“What now, Sunbearer?” Rolf asked, not hiding his annoyance. After suffering another long sleepless night, he had little patience for Sunbearer’s nonsense.
“I told you! And you didn’t listen,” the mayor’s face flushed red like a plump tomato. Though behind his bluster, Rolf saw the fear in his eyes. “Minister Loffie is dead—murdered!”
“Murdered?” Rolf had better things to occupy his time than humoring the mayor’s paranoid delusions. Late last night, someone had spotted a person fitting Rocke Ralss’s description in the suburbs. Before this unwanted interruption, Rolf had planned to follow the lead personally. “I visited the scene myself. There was no evidence of foul play.”
“Just as the Konquellian assassin intended! Who’s still not in custody, Rolf!” Sunbearer said with barely controlled rage.
“Nitao Hiancaing? We figure he’s lying low until the heat dies down, likely still in Ralss’s company.” Adrift with nowhere to go. It made sense they’d stick together. “No one saw anyone matching the Konquellian’s description around Loffie’s house around his death.”
“Incompetence! You underestimate him. You’d better have him arrested by the end of the week, or I’m replacing you with someone else.” With that blatant threat, the mayor hung up.
“End of the week?” That was only two days away. Didn’t the mayor know about the established procedures? Rolf didn’t appreciate the threats, either. “How about I replace you instead?”
But Rolf dampened down his temper. It was an odd coincidence that Minister Loffie died the day after some major defense plans had gotten stolen. His highly tuned cop instincts argued that there was a connection.
“A closer examination of the scene of Loffie’s accident wouldn’t hurt.” He might have dismissed it as an accident too quickly. “Phú, call Halkken into my office.”
“Yes, sir!” the AI assistant said in her usual perky tone.
After he’d invited her to a Vipers game, Phú was acting more like her normal self. Who knew AI liked baseball? Phú said she enjoyed the element of probability in hitting the ball and how a player’s individual stats influenced the game. She claimed to have a 94 percent certainty about the game’s outcome just by reading the roster. When pressed, she refused to reveal who she predicted the winner would be.
“Yes, Chief?” Halkken asked after entering.
“I want you to follow this lead on Rocke Ralss’s possible whereabouts.” While he wanted to investigate himself, the defense minister’s case held more importance. Rolf handed over a data stick with the relevant information.
Halkken nodded in understanding, pocketing the data stick in his jacket pocket. “Understood. I’ll see what I can uncover.”
“Good hunting,” Rolf said as the sergeant departed.
“Should I come along and help?” Phú asked, desperate eagerness entering her digitized voice. She sounded like an eager child begging her parents for some toy at the store.
“Go on.”
“Yes!” The AI vanished from her screen.
Although Rolf might have needed her assistance with the defense minister case, keeping his subordinates happy and productive was more important. Besides, he preferred to investigate old school style, anyway. If there was any foul play in Loffie’s death, he’d find it.
---
“And the Chief insisted you come along?” Halkken asked, dubious.
“Of course, you big meanie. How can you be so selfish?” Phú said, throwing a fit on his police car’s desktop screen.
This earned a laugh from Halkken, giving his new AI partner a thumbs-up. “Very well. Welcome aboard, partner!” With his own partner, Dagou, in the hospital after complications from bladder surgery, he’d appreciate the company.
“Yeah, let’s grind Ralss’s bones to dust! Make him suffer for daring to defy the UOP!” Phú said.
“That’s the spirit!” Halkken inserted the data stick and scanned its contents. Besides the witness testimony, it had a blurry picture of someone who matched Ralss’s description. The subject wore a gray hoodie, obscuring his features further.
“Phú, can you clear this up? It looks like our mutual friend, but I can’t be sure.”
“Sure, give me a sec,” Phú said. After a minute, the blurriness cleared, revealing the face’s features.
“So much for our lead,” Halkken said, leaning back in his seat. The photo’s blurry figure showed full lips and a crooked nose.
“I give a 5 percent chance this is our subject,” Phú said, just as dubious. Her mood turned gloomy. “Now what?”
“We keep looking,” Halkken said, undeterred. Investigations were always rife with setbacks. He drummed his fingers against the dashboard. “Phú, can you read through all the video data taken since Ralss’ escape?”
“What? No! Not by myself! That’d take weeks! We’re talking about thousands of cameras with dozens of hours of footage each!”
“If I recall, wasn’t the phony prophet seriously hurt by a guard robot? Any sign of him at any hospitals, legit or otherwise?”
“Wait.” Phú went silent for a heartbeat before speaking. “No one of Matthias Daliven’s descriptions was admitted to any hospital, even the back-alley ones. Though, a private back-alley doctor isn’t an impossibility.”
“Hmm. They’ve gone into hiding? The consequences for their holy man’s wellbeing be damned?” He was missing something, some hint that would guide them to the right trail. Halkken slapped the tabletop, startling Phú.
“Of course. She would know!”
“Sorry? Who?” Phú asked, somewhat baffled.
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“The power of darkness! It can peer past the veil.” Halkken grinned, ear to ear. “The fortune-teller, Babaka. I’ve used her on previous cases. She’s never wrong.”
“Uh, I was hoping we’d use a more scientific method of finding the criminal scum,” Phú replied, but Halkken was too excited to notice. With lightning-fast fingers, he disabled his car’s auto-drive system and took the steering wheel with both hands. Halkken loved to drive and cackled as it sped to life. With lightning speed, it swerved between two cars, wheels squealing.
“Are you crazy? Are you trying to kill us?” Phú said. But Halkken ignored her, accelerating as he took a sudden right turn. He was the law. Who cared about a couple of traffic violations? Especially when destiny awaited them?
---
Tires squealed as his vehicle slid into place, just avoiding slamming into a fence. Halkken beamed as he spotted their destination—a mid-sized house with a thatched roof and a white picket fence. But unlike the other idyllic UOP houses lining the block, this one had unique lawn decorations. Pale gravestones sat planted deep into the lawn. Spiderwebs clung to the branches of the trees, shadows hinting to the monsters who spun them. A skeleton chattered in eerily as it hung by its neck from a rope attached to a tree branch.
“Hey, wait a minute,” Phú said from his phone. “Those gravestones are plastic! And that skeleton is plaster of Paris!”
But Halkken hushed his AI partner. “You’re ruining the illusion!”
Candlelight cast eerie shadows in the house’s dark corridors as the door creaked open. Halkken passed a row of pumpkins as he entered, each with a twisted, tormented face.
“Welcome, visitor. Come to seek your future?” A wizened, creaky voice said from everywhere, yet nowhere. “I warn you, you might not like what you learn.”
“Hello again, Babaka. I have come for your advice in a case,” Halkken said, all boyish enthusiasm. He loved this house and its spooky interior. It put him in the mood for a good ghost story.
“Ah, Halkken. Enter. I will give you the advice you seek,” the voice replied.
Halkken marched forward, already knowing where to go. He ducked under some cobwebs as he entered a far room.
Inside an almost pitch-black room sat an elderly figure dressed in rags huddled over a crystal ball. The years had left deep crags across her features, her wild silver curls seeming to possess a life of their own. Incense permeated the room as Halkken took a seat across the fortune-teller.
“You need me for a case, you say?” The woman’s wrinkled hands hovered over her crystal ball.
Halkken pulled a picture from his coat—the profile picture of his target. “I am searching for this man, Rocke Ralss.”
“I will contact the demon, Behealzbub. His dark powers will guide me to the person you seek!”
“Who?” Phú asked, somewhat muffled by Halkken’s coat pocket.
“The dark god Behealzbub, the true master of the world. The Sovereign is only a usurper. He was jealous of the dark god’s majesty. He used an underhanded tactic—a poisoned gift given in false friendship—to steal the demon’s power for himself and claim a title that didn’t belong to him.” Halkken explained.
“Right,” Phú said, unconvinced. “Except that story matches none of my records about the legends of the Sovereign or—”
“Hush, she’s starting,” Halkken said, finger over lips.
“Behealzbub! Oh, mighty Behealzbub! Grant your servant your wisdom!” The candles flickered as the fortune-teller’s cadence increased in intensity. An eerie moan echoed through the room. Babaka waved her arms wildly, her movements becoming more frenzied. “Find this man, Rocke Ralss! Let a curse be upon him. May he not escape your grasp, Great One! Oh, greatest of demons!” After unleashing an unearthly cry, the room went dark as Babaka collapsed.
“And what happens now?” Phú asked, breaking the silence.
“In a hill, you will find him!” Babaka said, suddenly leaping to life as the light returned to normal. “But only when the wolf howls! Present an offering of tulips as you spin around six times to a tall man wearing a fancy suit. Then, the path will become clear.”
“Huh? That made no sense whatsoever!” Phú said in protest.
“Thank you, Babaka. The Vladus Police Department always appreciates your help,” Halkken said, ignoring his partner. “We will pay you in the usual manner.”
“And I’m always happy to help you with your investigations, young man,” Babaka replied. “Come back anytime. You’re always welcome.”
Phú looked ready to explode with more protests, but Halkken lifted a finger to forestall her. “I will. Until we meet again.”
“And there we go, a new lead!” Halkken said, pleased with himself. Finally, the case was taking shape—a jigsaw puzzle with its corner pieces done.
“What a bunch of hogwash!” Phú said, fuming as Halkken pulled his phone from his pocket. “What a waste of time!”
“Trust me. This will work,” Halkken said as he approached his car. “Babaka hasn’t failed me yet.”
“Fine.” But it sounded like Phú wanted to swallow her own tongue. “Just do whatever you want. I’m searching surveillance data.”
“Good idea.” Halkken nodded, saying, “A back-up plan never hurts.” He mused over the fortune-teller’s words, wondering what hill she meant. Vladus was a hilly city. There wasn’t one particularly famous hill or anything.
“There is a flower shop near a hill near where I live. Might that be it?” Halkken said, nodding in satisfaction. It seemed a logical place to start. He was already one step closer to apprehending the devious murderer!
---
“Fool.” Sunbearer closed the connection, uttering a curse. As usual, his idiot police chief failed to understand the gravity of the situation. The fact he didn’t immediately realize Loffie’s death was a murder in disguise proved his utter incompetence! Next election, Rolf wouldn’t be the police chief. He would guarantee it.
A chime from his console interrupted his brooding thoughts. Sunbearer composed himself, giving his best winning smile as he answered his secretary. “Yes, Midion?”
“Sir, the Prime Minister wishes to speak with you,” Midion said from a speaker.
Finally, someone intelligent to speak to! “Patch him through.”
“Cal, how are you?” Prime Minister Lux Luciest said, his smile radiant as the sun.
Luciest was a heavy-set man of upper-middle years. Despite this, however, his auburn hair only had a dusting of gray. He projected youthful energy. Luciest was like gravity itself, always the center of attention whenever he entered a room. It amazed Sunbearer how the man seemed to remember everyone he’d ever met, even if it’d only been a brief encounter. Luciest greeted even the briefest acquaintance like an old, dear friend. The Prime Minister was a rare leader and the reason for the UOP’s current prosperity.
“It’s been hectic with Minister Loffie’s tragic death, but I’m managing,” Sunbearer said with more candid honesty than he’d usually use. The Prime Minister had a talent for drawing out the truth from people.
“Yes, I heard. Poor Polk. He was a hearty old guff. I’d almost expected him to outlive us all,” Luciest replied, his tone solemn.
“He would have if he wasn’t murdered,” Sunbearer said, his tone dark.
“Ah, so you’ve had similar doubts about his accident. The timing seems a little too convenient,” Luciest said, considering the matter in his usual measured way. “I’ve doubled security on myself, just in case. I requested the other Ministers to do likewise until the situation settles down.”
“Situation?”
“We’ve all heard Matthias Daliven’s dire pronouncements. It’s all my wife has been talking about. I met Matthias once at a rally a decade ago. He seemed like a sturdy, steadfast fellow. Honest too. A likable sort, the type people listen to.”
“It surprises me you give the ravings of an ex-filing clerk any credence.” Was the Prime Minister superstitious?
“I don’t. But many do. Including the Ottomon population. They are angry, Cal. The prophecies are fueling their resentment and desire for revenge.”
But Sunbearer only gave a derisive snort. “The Demons are a rabble, easily squashed.”
“Yes, but we can’t underestimate the possibility of violence. Violence that will be difficult to quell. So far we’ve been lucky they’ve only been protesting, and only a small minority have turned to terrorism to achieve their goals.”
“It’s their religion. It forbids violence.” And a useful tool to keep them obedient sheep.
“Yes, we are lucky in that regard, but they won’t stay silent forever. We have 21 days until the Day of Promise. We must take action to keep the peace.”
“Chief Rolf is searching for Matthias Daliven to arrest him.” Though, in his usual incompetence, he had yet to apprehend him. “Law enforcement is vigorously stamping out any trouble. Though…” A thought occurred to Sunbearer. “It wouldn’t hurt to have a military presence ready on the Day of Promise.”
But the Prime Minister seemed unsatisfied, tapping his fingers on his desk. “I’m fine with ordering martial law, but still, I worry.”
“The Demons aren’t the problem! We might have foreign agents working against us!”
“That is a distinct possibility,” Luciest said with maddening calm. “There are reports Vanderfall has mobilized its military. For training exercises, they claim.”
“Do you think they might strike on the Day of Promise, taking advantage of the civil unrest?” And what about Konquel? They were another unknown. While a small country, they had an impressive military.
“It’s possible. I’ve been talking to General Xander about it.”
“Don’t worry about the capital. I will make sure it stays protected.” Vladus would endure, no matter the cost. A light flashed in Sunbearer’s head, an idea that’d solve all his problems.
“That’s good to hear, Cal,” Luciest said with his trademark smile. “I’ll leave it to you to protect Vladus. Do what you think is best. Sorry, but I must run. I have a meeting in five minutes.”
“I won’t keep you then. Don’t be afraid to keep in touch.” After some farewells, Sunbearer’s monitor went black.
“Midion, please contact General Xander. Make an appointment sometime tomorrow. Tell him it’s important, vital.”
While the Vanderfall and Konquel situation might be beyond his immediate control, the Demons were a different story. He’d show them their prophet’s Day of Promise was an empty dream. This would also address a problem that’s been plaguing the city for decades.
“A clean Vladus, free of filth!” Sunbearer delighted in the thought.
He’d force out the entire slums, threaten violence or even death on anyone who’d dare defy the order. It won’t stop there. Anyone of Demon heritage would no longer be welcome in Vladus. If they weren’t in his city, they couldn’t riot on the Day of Promise. Some people would die, but it was a small cost to pay to keep his city safe and clean. The UOP and Vladus would stand forever, that was his solemn oath.