Justice Keepers Saga - Books 13-15

Chapter 3-2

Slade despised Hunter for his continued resistance. The virus was supposed to have broken him, but Hunter had refused to give his enemy the satisfaction. She had to give him some credit for that. Twice now, she had been impressed by Hunter’s strength. His willingness to kill Leo had been a pleasant surprise, his refusal to bend to Slade even more so. Hunter was no ordinary enemy.

And he could be a powerful ally.

She was lost in those thoughts when a man appeared to her, a tall and lanky fellow with curls of white hair and a neatly-trimmed beard. An avatar of the Inzari. One of their telepathic projections. She could almost sense the creature conjuring it. “You languish in this place.”

Sitting back against the couch cushions, Isara tapped her cheek with one finger. Her playful eyebrows climbed up her forehead. “When one is presented with limited options, one makes the best of a bad situation.”

The stranger scowled at her. “Your services are required.”

“I’m sure.”

“Do you intend to break our covenant?”

Standing up, Isara laced her fingers and stretched her arms above her head. She let her mouth fall open in a yawn. “I cannot help you when you deliberately undermine my efforts on your behalf.”

“Explain yourself.”

“Slade,” she growled. “He’s become a liability.”

The stranger held her gaze, never moving, never blinking. Idly, she wondered why the Inzari had chosen this form. It wasn’t the face of anyone she knew. When the silence stretched on, she realized she wasn’t going to get a response.

Isara strode around the small coffee table, planting herself in front of the stranger, facing him with iron resolve. “He was a valued partner once,” she said. “But he has grown unstable. You know this.”

“He still serves his function.”

“A broken tool cannot serve its function,” she insisted. “Slade was never the same after you disciplined him. His obsession with Jack Hunter consumes and diverts him from our mission. This clone that he has created is but the latest example. He has wasted your precious resources on a petty vendetta.”

“He has opened the SlipGates, just as we wanted,” the Inzari countered. “He has started a war, just as we wanted. He has engineered a final conflict, a symphony of death that will provide us with the data we need. The one you call Slade has achieved every goal we have set before him. These minor distractions are of no consequence. He claims the rewards of faithful service just as you do.”

She suspected that might be their answer. If Slade wanted to toy with a young Justice Keeper, if tormenting Jack Hunter provided him with some amusement after two thousand years, what difference would it make? The Inzari were willing to indulge his eccentricities as long as they got what they wanted.

It was time to change their mind.

Isara paced a circle around the man, like a predator on the hunt. “Slade no longer cares for anything except inflicting pain on his enemies,” she whispered in his ear. “He is distracted, and sooner or later, he will slip.”

The Inzari did not reply. It seemed she had gotten their attention. Perhaps they had noticed the same failings in Slade, the same obsession with settling old scores.

“What you need,” she said, “is a servant who believes in the work. One who comes to you willingly.”

“Is that you?”

“I am one such,” she admitted. “But there is another. A young man of incredible talent. We should bring Jack Hunter into the fold.”

The stranger paused to think it over. He didn’t move, didn’t flinch or react in any way. He just stared vacantly at the wall. “Previous attempts to do so have failed,” he said at last.

Covering a smile with one hand, Isara shut her eyes and chuckled. “That’s because you haven’t provided him with a sufficient inducement,” she replied. “Hunter still thinks that you’re nothing but aliens with advanced technology. It’s time to disabuse him of that foolish notion.”

“How shall we do that?”

“By restoring to him that which he has lost.”

Bil Hendril walked into his office, briefly shutting his eyes against the glare that came in through the huge, floor-to-ceiling window. It was a gorgeous, sunny afternoon in Denabria. Summer was in full swing. If this were any other year, the city would be bursting with street festivals and concerts, but the war had left a cloud of gloom that no amount of sunshine could dissipate.

The blinking, red light on Bil’s SmartGlass desk reminded him that he had a call waiting. He had been in the middle of a meeting when the comm-system started squawking at him. This was one conversation he would prefer to have in private.

“Answer call.”

A hologram appeared in the middle of his office, resolving into the image of Jeral Dusep. The Prime Council was a man of average height, copper-skinned with short, black hair. “Director Henril,” he barked. “I don’t like it when people keep me waiting.”

Placing a hand over his heart, Bil bowed his head to the other man. “Is there something I can do for you, sir?”

Dusep started to pace. His hologram remained planted right where it was, but you could see his legs moving. His face was a mask of fury. Bil prepared himself for a tirade. “I’m calling to inform you that the Council has decided to remove you from your position as Chief Director of the Justice Keepers.”

“The Council has decided,” Bil muttered. “You mean you have decided.”

youThe hologram rounded on him, and once again, Bil braced himself for an explosion that never came. Dusep bit back whatever it was he had intended to say, visibly calming himself. “You must have seen this coming, Mr. Hendril,” he began. “You’ve been unable to subdue the more radical elements in your organization.”

That was an understatement.

In the last three months, more than seventy percent of the Keepers on this planet had defected. It wasn’t just the Denabrian office. Keepers all over Leyria had followed Jack Hunter’s example, starting resistance cells and attacking military installations. And they had plenty of support from within the military. It only took one officer to leave a SlipGate open or to leak the access codes to a cellblock.

Dusep was doing everything in his power to take control of the narrative, to spin these defections as random, isolated incidents, but people were getting wise. The news wouldn’t stop talking about it. Depending on a paper’s editorial slant, these rogue Keepers were either traitors who put the entire planet at risk or heroes standing up to a corrupt regime. From what Bil had read, most of the public sentiment was with the latter. Leyria might have voted for Dusep in a moment of panic, but the people had quickly tired of his authoritarian tendencies.

Of course, the Prime Council was too stupid to realize that. The more resistance he got, the harder he tried to c***k down, which only made people detest him. A vicious cycle if ever there was one.

“Sir,” Bil said. “I don’t have an organization. There are maybe six Keepers who show up to this building on a regular basis, and I don’t dare send any of them on missions against their friends. I’ve had to supplement my staff with officers from OPS just to make sure someone feeds the prisoner.”

haveDusep grunted, staring off at something Bil couldn’t see. “Yes, well, that is no longer your concern,” he said. “You are being removed as chief director because your position is no longer necessary. As of right now, there are no more Justice Keepers. The Council has voted to revoke their legal authority.”

“Sir,” Bil protested. “We do have a prisoner here. A prisoner who – I might add – has not had the benefit of legal counsel. We can’t just shut down the building and leave him in his cell to rot.”

notDusep shrugged. “Shoot him for all I care.”

Taking control of himself – anger would accomplish nothing – Bil stepped forward so that he was nose to nose with the hologram. “Sir,” he said coldly. “You are the Prime Council. You cannot ignore the law.”

“The law is what I say it is!” Dusep fumed. “Traitors have no rights here! In fact, I order you to execute the prisoner. If he isn’t dead by tomorrow morning, I will have you declared an enemy of the state. Do you understand?”

Thrusting out his chin, Bil narrowed his eyes to slits. “I am in no position to carry out an execution,” he said. “I have been relieved of duty, remember?”

It was a pointless argument – he wouldn’t do it even if he had the full authority of chief director – but any excuse to say no would do just fine. Dusep had become unhinged. It was time to remove him from office.

“Get it done,” the Prime Council hissed. “Or I will see to it that you spend the rest of your life rotting in a cell.”

The hologram winked out.

Bil dropped onto a nearby sofa, resting his elbow on the couch arm and pressing his palm against his forehead. “‘Get it done,’” he muttered. “Just go and murder someone in your care.”

“The Prime Council has become a bit erratic, hasn’t he?”

When Bil looked up, he was confronted by the sight of a handsome young man standing in the door to his office. Tall and well-built with a tanned complexion and thick, brown hair, he wore the confident smile of a man who knew he always had a winning hand. He had a beard of short stubble and brown eyes that seemed to stare into your soul. Women were probably swooning over this guy left and right. “Forgive the intrusion,” he said. “I was hoping to speak with the chief director.”

Bil stifled a yawn with his fist, squeezing his eyes shut. “That’s me,” he mumbled, forcing himself to stand. “But this is a high-security area. I would like to know how you got in here.”

“I’m afraid your staff isn’t quite what it used to be.”

“Still, they should have asked you to wait at the front desk until-”

“It’s fine,” the man said with a wave of his hand.

And it was.

His presence was as natural as the sunrise, as harmless as a sleeping kitten. Bil was starting to wonder why he had ever objected to this fellow walking into his office. It had been the height of rudeness. “What can I do for you, Mr…”

“Never mind that,” the man said, marching across the room. He paused at Bil’s desk, staring out the window at a quiet city under the blistering sun. “You have someone in one of your detention cells.”

“That’s right,” Bil replied. Why was he volunteering this information so readily? Civilians weren’t supposed to just walk in here and start asking questions about prisoners. He should be protesting this, shouldn’t he?

“We have to let him out.”

“I…” Bil searched for the words. “No… You can’t…”

“Oh, but I can,” the man said in a calming voice. “And you are the reason why, Director. I never would have gotten in here if you hadn’t driven all your Keepers away. Now, if you please, I will need your handprint and your access code.”

Razor sat on his bed with his back against the wall, his legs stretched out across the mattress. It was dark. He rarely turned on the lights these days. The gloom seemed fitting somehow. He couldn’t recall how long it had been since the last time someone had paid him a visit. He marked the days by the arrival of his meals. The door would open just long enough for someone to collect his empty tray and leave a full one in its place. Always when he was on the opposite side of his cell. He was quite certain that they watched him to be sure.

He shut his eyes, the back of his head resting against the wall as he drew in a slow breath. None of this mattered. Slade would come for him when the time was right. Razor would have the glory he deserved. That was the promise of the Inzari, and the Inzari kept their promises.

They kept their promises.

keptHe did wonder why Melissa had stopped coming. It had been over four months since the last time he had seen her. Was she on a mission? Was she still alive? No one would tell him.

You’re kidding yourself, Aiden whispered.

You’re kidding yourself, Razor silenced the voice of the man he had once been, the wretch who had failed. That man was dead, and ghosts had no power over him. The tightness in his chest, the sweat on his palm: all just figments of his imagination. Slade would come for him. Slade would come for him.

wouldThen why hasn’t he come already? Aiden pressed.

Then why hasn’t he come already?Clenching his teeth, Razor tossed his head about. “Shut up!” He forced himself to stand up and pace across the room. “Keep your useless opinions to yourself!”

He just had an excess of energy; that was all. He would feel a hundred times better once he burned it off. Then Aiden would fall silent, and Razor wouldn’t have to think about…

It’s been months. Slade isn’t coming for us. He was just using us to kill his enemies. Can’t you see that?

It’s been months. Slade isn’t coming for us. He was just using us to kill his enemies. Can’t you see that?Razor stumbled, slamming both hands against the wall. He stood there with his head hanging, breathing hard. “Keep your damn opinions to yourself.”

You can’t hide from the truth, Aiden said. In here, it’s just us and the truth. Sooner or later, you’re going to have to face it.

You can’t hide from the truth,In here, it’s just us and the truth. Sooner or later, you’re going to have to face it.Spinning around, Razor pressed his back to the wall. He slid downward until his bottom hit the floor. And then he sobbed. “What’s the truth?”

The truth is that our obsession with power and prestige has cost us everything. We had someone who cared about us, and we pushed her away. We allied ourselves with a criminal, with a monster. He used us and then discarded us because that’s what monsters do.

The truth is that our obsession with power and prestige has cost us everything. We had someone who cared about us, and we pushed her away. We allied ourselves with a criminal, with a monster. He used us and then discarded us because that’s what monsters do.Tears welled up as Razor pressed the tips of his fingers to his forehead. “No,” he whimpered. “No. The Inzari are gods! You have seen!”

Grow up, Aiden sneered. Stop clinging to that fantasy.

Grow up,Stop clinging to that fantasy.“You have-”

The door slid open, and light flooded into his cell, making his eyes smart. Razor scrambled into the corner, hiding from that fearsome glare. He couldn’t see – it was too bright – but he could sense the man who had come to see him.. “My goodness,” the stranger said. “You are in a sorry state.”

senseare“Who are you?”

“No one of consequence,” the stranger replied. “Get up, Razor. Your prayers have been answered. Today, you walk free.”