Arkhe

99AE

Lucerana

Prevailia

Alexander Bloodworth

Arkhe

 

                “Oh no, you’re not going anywhere!” yells Alicia’s voice, “You still have a lot to explain.” 

                What’s going on, why is Alicia yelling?  What time is it?  I open my eyes and look at my watch which rests on the table besides the couch.  Six-fifty eight.  Ugh.  It’s too early for this.  I sit up and rub my eyes.  I have to say.  The couch is not as comfortable as my bed, but I feel my sacrifice is worth it. 

                “You don’t understand,” barks Max’s voice, “I need to go.  I don’t have time for stories.”  Max is back.  Took him long enough.

                “Max, did you just get back?” I ask, still groggy from a full night’s sleep.

                “Boy, why are you sleeping on the couch?” Max asks, completely disregarding my question.

                “Long story,” I reply.

                “Well I wish I had time for it,” Max announces, “But there’s a lot of work that needs to get done and it’s urgent.”

                “Well it can wait,” snaps Alicia, “You’ve been putting off this story for twenty-five years, it can’t wait any longer.”

                “Listen girl,” barks Max.  Again, I’ll emphasize anger is out of character for Max.  “The Decorian army is on our border, they haven’t invaded yet, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t likely.  You know whose job it is to deal with stuff like that?  It’s my job.”

                Alicia argues back, but my head is filtering out the words.  Decorian army?  That sounds like war.  Rexrode said he was trying to avoid war.  This isn’t good.  I don’t think I can get anything out of Max though while Alicia is berating him like this.  I grab the remote that’s on the table next to the couch and turn on the TV.  If the situation is as dire as Max makes it out to be, then the news should have something on it. 

                I don’t have to flip through any channels either.  We don’t watch TV that often, and when we do, it’s the news. 

                “… And this is the reason Decorian officials have given for their presence on the border,” announces the news anchor.  “The Decorian research facilities right here in Lucerana burned down yesterday.”  As the anchor says this, pictures flash of the facility, both before and after the fire.  “Officials concluded the fire, which resulted in the deaths of many of the workers, was an act of arson.”

                I hear the door slam behind me.  Presumably Max has left now.  Looks like Alicia will have to wait for our story.

                “Officials along the border state the reason for the Decorian mobilization is a missing suspect.  The Decorian officials who investigated the fire yesterday concluded it was an inside job.  Those responsible are a group of individuals who worked at the facility.  The missing suspect is Tamara Liberty, a twenty-four year old researcher at the facility.  She is also believed to be the ring leader of the operation.”  As she says this, a picture of Tamara flashes on the screen, but I don't have time to believe what I’m seeing.  No they, can’t.  She was framed!

                “We have to turn her in,” says Alicia, turning my attention away from the television towards her.  She speaks in a cold calm and collected voice, the kind of voice that hides anger, fear, and uncertainty.

                “No we can’t,” I reply.  I reply with conviction.  “I won’t allow it.”

                “Alex, she is wanted for arson,” argues Alicia, “And on top of that, it looks like war will break out if they don’t get her.”

                “But they’re wrong,” I snap back, “And I know it.”

                “Don’t let your infatuation cloud your judgment,” barks Alicia.

                “Infatuation?” I ask.  I’m getting angry.  Anger doesn't come easy for me.  I look down and see my note pad, a convenient little fit into this conversation.  I grab it and hold it up as a centerpiece for my argument.  “How about you look through my notes and tell me how likely it is she did it, huh?” I yell. 

                “I’m sorry,” comes Tamara’s voice from the door way, “I heard all the screaming, is something wrong?”

                “Is something wrong?” barks Alicia, stomping over towards Tamara, “I’ll tell you what’s wrong!  You couldn’t stop at trying to steal my brother away!  You had to burn down a facility murder a dozen people and almost start a war with our freaking country!”

                “Calm down!” I snap at Alicia, stepping between her and Tamara, “You’re being irrational!”

                “I’m irrational?” Alicia asks as if she’s offended, “It’s all over the freaking news!”

                “No,” I reply.  “You’re irrational because if you just shut up for a second, I can tell you they confessed they would scapegoat someone.  They didn’t tell me who, they just said someone.”

                “And who is that?” Alicia asks.

                “Christian Rexrode!” I answer.  The name thundering from my mouth wipes Alicia’s expression off her face and I swear I feel Tamara shudder at its utterance.  “Yeah, that’s why he wanted to meet with me yesterday!” I explain, “He knew I was a good detective, he knew that I would be able to conclude whatever they pulled would be incorrect.  That I knew that they were framing someone.  He met with me to ask if I could back down knowing they were scapegoating someone, and I told him I could.”

                “But I don’t understand,” says Alicia, “What would they have to gain from framing an innocent person?”

                “Not having to go to war,” I reply.

                “Really?” asks Alicia, “Cause from what I see, that doesn’t seem to be effective.”

                “From what Rexrode told me, the Decorian army would be here by now had he not intervened,” I answer. 

                “Wait, they’re not saying I did it? Are they?” asks Tamara, finally piecing together all the information.

                “Yes they are,” answers Alicia.

                “But I didn’t do it,” protests Tamara.

                “We know that,” I answer, “Don’t worry, we’re not going to turn you in.”

                “Pfft, like hell we’re not,” intercedes Alicia, “Do you want to start a war?”

                “Where’s your sense of justice?” I ask.  “She didn’t do it, I can prove it, hell, I’m pretty sure all the research you did yesterday tells you how unlikely it is she could have done it.”

                “But is holding her here the best course of action?” Alicia asks, “Do we risk war for one person?  Why don’t we say we have her, so the army on the border can cool their jets, and then we can worry about justice.”

                “Do you honestly think if we give her up to the Decorian authorities that we’ll be able to plead our case of justice?” I ask, “It would be a Decorian trial, we have no voice in a Decorian trial.”

                Alicia opens her mouth to speak, but then realizes she has nothing to say.

                “Besides,” I add, “Keeping her hidden here is only slightly illegal.”  Alicia gives me a stern look as if to say, ‘did you really just say that?’  “Alright,” I reply, “It’s one hundred percent illegal.  But we can’t just give her up.”

                “Well then, what do we do?” asks Alicia.

                “I haven’t figured that out yet,” I answer, “I guess we just need to sit around and wait for something to happen.”  Almost if on cue, like some cheesy pre-planned plot device, my phone rings on the table next to the couch.  Isn’t that convenient?  “I take it, that constitutes something happening,” I say.  I walk over and pick up my phone.  Number restricted.  I wonder who this could be.  “Hello?” I answer.

                “Hello,” replies the voice on the other end of the line, “Is this Alexander Bloodworth?”

                “Yes it is.  Who is this? I ask.

                “Alex, this is your Prevailian Chairman, Murphy Patterson,” replies the voice.

                Yes, this definitely counts as a cheesily convenient plot point.  “Mr. Chairman, I heard yesterday that you were keeping tabs on me,” I begin, “But I never expected you to call.”

                “Yes, I realize this might all be unexpected,” explains Murphy.  “But concerning recent events, I find it necessary to meet with you.  Do you happen to be free at the moment?”

                Alright, more meetings with national leaders.  My bizarre trip isn’t yet over.  “Yeah, I’m free at the moment,” I reply, “But you have to understand sir, even had I been busy I’d make the time to meet with you.”

                “Good,” says Murphy, “Because there’s a car waiting downstairs for you, can you be ready in five minutes?”

                “Um, yeah?” I answer.

                “Good, we’ll be meeting in the State Building,” Murphy replies, “See you then,” and the line clicks dead.

                “Get dressed,” I tell Alicia turning to face her, and then I realize she is already dressed, “Alright, I’ll get dressed.  We’re meeting with Murphy Patterson.”

                “About what?” Alicia asks as I walk past her to my room to get some clothes.

                “I don’t know,” I reply, “He didn’t say.”

                “What am I doing?” asks Tamara.

                I pause for a second to contemplate.  “I’d say that considering the current situation, you shouldn’t be touring the city, try to find something to watch on TV.”

                “What’s TV?” asks Tamara.

                “Alicia, I need to get dressed, can you handle this?” I ask.

                “Sure, why not,” Alicia replies.  She’s not okay with Tamara staying here still.  But that’s not much of my concern at the moment. 

                What does one wear when meeting the Prevailian Chairman?  Well what am I? A detective.  Alicia’s not wearing anything special, so why should I?  I’ll just wear what I normally wear. 

                I walk back out of my room.  It seems they’ve found something to watch.  It’s one of those Makaroy Taylor movies.  “Oh, no not another one of those.”  I protest.

                “What?” asks Alicia, “You told me to find something for her to watch.  I thought this would be entertaining.”  

                This is the problem with entertainment today, franchises.  I think it’s something like Makaroy Taylor seven or something they have on.  The entertainment industry just keeps cranking them out though.  The guys like it for all the action, and the girls like it because the lead actor is ‘hot.’  In my opinion, the only good one was the first one.

                But then again, that’s because they based the first on true events.  Makaroy Taylor is an actual person.  It was something about a rogue company from Laissez trying to assassinate a Prevailian council member.  Makaroy managed to stop them.  In the movie, it’s an actor playing Makaroy, but in real life, Makaroy holds a position called the Prevailian Arkhe.  That’s Greek or something standing for leader, or something.  The point is, it’s an actual position detailed in the Prevailian constitution.  It’s the closest thing to a legal action hero I think there’s ever been.  The job of the Arkhe is to investigate threats to the Prevailian council, and protect them at all costs.  Other than that, the only requirement is to as public as possible about it and be a symbol for national pride.  Makaroy is still the reigning Arkhe.  There’s something in the constitution about additional roles of the Arkhe if war is ever declared.  I’m fuzzy on the details.  I got sick of politics when everyone started trying to shove it down my throat. 

                “Whatever,” I answer, “If fluff is what you think she should watch, then, let her watch fluff.  But we need to go, there’s a car waiting for us outside.”

                “Wait, before you go,” interjects Tamara, sitting up from the couch, “I have something for you.”  She walks back to my room and brings out three necklaces with pendants, almost identical to the one she has.  “I thought you might want something to carry your orbs in.  I thought this would work just fine.”

                “Where did you find the materials to do this?” asks Alicia, popping her orb into one of the pendants. 

                “No time to explain,” I protest, popping my own orb in, “I don’t know how long they’ve been waiting.”  I grab Max’s orb, which was resting on the counter and pop it into the third pendant and stuff it in my pocket.  I adorn the necklace with my orb in it around my neck.  “If you get hungry, there’s food in the fridge,” I mention.

                “Okay, and thank you again,” says Tamara as I push Alicia out the door.  I lock the door behind me. 

                “Makaroy Taylor? Really?” I ask Alicia once we are on our way down the hall.

                “What?” she asks, “I thought she’d want to see some men with actual good looks for once.”

                “Oh, ha ha.  Very funny,” I say without a smirk on my face.  We make it outside and a car is waiting right outside the door.  This isn’t just any car though.  This is Murphy Patterson’s personal limo.  He sent his personal limo.

                “Mr. Bloodworth I presume?” asks the chauffer, “I was told I was only picking up you.”

                “Really?” I ask.  I hadn’t realized the invitation was only with me, “Well, my sister is coming too.  I’m sure you have room right?”

                “If that’s what you request,” says the chauffer, opening the door for us.  The back of the limo is vacant.  No eight year olds to chat with this time.  The chauffer closes the door after Alicia gets in, and begins to drive it towards our destination. 

                “I wasn’t invited?” Alicia asks.

                “I thought you were,” I reply, “At least I assumed you were.”

                Alicia crosses her arms and looks away from me.  She’s not happy.  She doesn’t seem to be content with anything that’s been going on.

                “Look, sis, I can’t control what happens,” I begin.  “I know these last two days are abnormal to say the least, but at the end of the day you are still my sister.”

                “Yeah, for how long?” she asks turning to face me.

                “What kind of question is that?” I ask, “Forever, nothing’s going to change that.”

                “Not if the world keeps bending to meet you whim like this,” Alicia replies.  “Why is it that you end up meeting all these important people while I get left out?  And on top of that, I’m losing you to a wanted criminal.”

                “Wait, hold on,” I interject, “You don’t actually think that Tamara would get in the way of what we got?”

                “You wouldn’t understand, you’re blinded by your infatuation,” she says.  “And don’t act like you’re not, because I can tell.  You’ve never acted like that before.  And she likes you too.  It’s just, seeing that and realizing that I’m all alone.  I don’t want to be that third wheel, and I don’t think you want me to be that third wheel either.  I am afraid that I’ll lose you.  That I will just be your sister by blood, but lose the bond that goes with that.”

                “I won’t let that happen,” I assure her.

                “I knew you were going to say that,” she says, “But I don’t believe it.”

                “You’re being ridiculous,” I argue.

                “Well, maybe I am,” she admits, “but it doesn’t seem so irrational when you’re in my position.”

                “It’s been one day, nothing’s happened,” I begin, “She gave me a hug, that’s it.  I’m pretty sure that doesn’t even constitute as a kindergarten romance.  And besides, how are you so sure she likes me?”

                “Well you’re a likeable guy,” she responds in avoidance to the question.

                “Shut it,” I say, “You know what I mean.  ‘Like’ like.  Infatuation, taking two scoops of ice cream down the road to diabetic hell.  How do you know?”

                “Wait, what was that last one?” Alicia asks.

                “I made it up,” I reply.

                “Well it doesn’t make sense,” she argues.

                “Of course it does, now answer the question,” I urge.

                “Two scoops of ice cream down the road to diabetic hell sounds more like gluttony, not lust,” she comments disregarding me. 

                “I don’t care if it makes sense.  The point is that you are playing stupid,” I conclude, “Now just answer the damn question.”

                “Feminine intuition,” she answers.

                “That’s a bullshit answer,” I reply.

                “What do you want me to say?” Alicia asks, “Do you want me to say it’s the way she looks at you when you talk?  How she never seemed to look away, how you always held her attention?  Or how about every time when you weren’t looking she was fixing her hair?  Trying to ease out her appearance and then immediately snapping back when you’d look her direction?  Oh, wait.  I think you’d prefer this morning when you were defending her she was blushing more than I thought possible.”

                “I would find all those much more sufficient, yes.” I reply. 

                Alicia just gives out a huff and turns away from me again.  I guess there’s no pleasing her at the moment.  I’ll just have to wait this one out.  

                The car stops, and the chauffeur comes around and opens the door.  Alicia shuffles out, and then I.  We’re at the state building.  This is where the Prevailian council meets.  Murphy Patterson does some of his business here, like when he meets with the council.  Most of his work happens in the Emerald Mansion, which also serves as his house as long as he is chairman.  To contrast the architecture of Prevailia to that of the PRD, the State Building also has a staircase up to the front door.  But, here the building doesn’t make me feel inferior.  In fact, it feels welcoming.  I’m not an architect, so I can’t place my finger on what exactly it is that creates such a dramatic shift, but there is a noticeable difference.  Now the only problem is we seem to be at the public entrance.  The part of the building they show to tourists and school children.  I thought we’d be going in a side entrance or something. 

                “Where do we go from here?” I ask the chauffeur.

                “I am instructed to tell you to wait inside the lobby,” he replies, “The Chairman is in a meeting at the moment.  When he finishes his meeting, he’ll have someone come find you.”

                “Thanks,” I say, handing him a generous tip.  

                “Thank you,” says the chauffeur.  He gets back in the limo and drives off. 

                “I guess we just have to wait inside,” Alicia states, walking up the stairs of the building.  Without saying anything I follow.  We make it to the front doors and enter.  There, security has a line set up.  It’s a whole metal detector deal.  Sort of a precaution to people trying to blow the building up.  We’re cops though, we don’t have to go through security.  Alicia and I flash our badges to the first security guard in line.  She acknowledges us, and pulls back the portable railing to let us through. 

                That’s the thing about law enforcement in Prevailia.  The saying goes, 'you might not always be at work, but you are always on duty.'  Alicia and I are sworn act when necessary whether we are working at the moment or not.  Thus we are also allowed to carry our firearms in public places like this. 

                “Does this remind you of school?” I ask Alicia.

                “A little bit,” she replies.

                The last time I was here, we were on a school trip.  I think it was eighth grade, but I’m not sure, that was long ago.  The part of the building that’s open to the public is a great big round room, sort of like a dome.  Around the edges are exhibits displaying various bits of Prevailian history. Documents important to the government, such as the constitution, are on display.  Three doors also line the perimeter of the room.  They lead back into the state building where the government stuff gets done.  Or in the words of a disenfranchised public, nothing gets done.  Ha, that’s a government joke.  Those doors only open from the other side, unless you have a pass to get inside.  Occasionally council members and other officials make visits during breaks in their work day out here.  Occasionally means during election season. 

                “This place is a façade,” Alicia states.

                “You haven’t seen façade until you’ve been in a Decorian building,” I reply, remembering the embassy.

                Shrieks come from the other side of the room.  Not shrieks of terror, but more of the kind the typical teenage girl makes when a rock star makes an appearance.  A crowd of people begin forming around the door in the far right of the room.  Someone has emerged from it.

                “It’s Makaroy Taylor!” shrieks Alicia in excitement.  When I said officials only make appearances during election season, I really meant unless you’re Makaroy Taylor.  As the Prevailian Arkhe, he is required to keep a high public profile.  These sort of public spectacles happen all the time around him.  “Do you think I have enough time to get an autograph?”  She asks me.

                “I’m not going to stop you,” I reply, and before I’m finished speaking, she is off to assimilate into the crowd of gawkers. 

                Makaroy Taylor is one of those people who manage to build up legends around themselves.  As sort of the country of Prevailia’s resident badass, things that fall on his official record include, but are not limited to, thwarting an assassination attempt on a Prevailian council member, single handedly taking down a counterfeiting ring deeply imbedded in the Prevailian bureaucracy, stopping a hostage situation on a bus he just happened to be passing by, bedding a reported three hundred women annually, and receiving millions in condom sponsorship money.  Things attributed to his legend, but not confirmed as fact, include, but are not limited to, wining a cage fight with a pack of wolves and a bear using nothing but his fists, being able to deflect bullets with his rock hard pecks, foiling a bank robbery using nothing but a banana, and fathering over one hundred illegitimate children.  Makaroy is such a pop culture icon, a band by the name of ‘It Came from Earth’ released a single in his honor detailing the more ridiculous embellishment’s that surround him titled simply, Makaroy Taylor.  As if to broaden his legend, the single stayed at number one in the charts for a staggering three months.  The song has managed to make it into almost every single one of the Makaroy Taylor movies. (It wasn’t in the first two, considering the song wasn't written yet.)  The rest of the album the hit single was on, titled Decorian Democracy, didn’t receive as much praise.  That is a shame, because I liked that whole album excluding the Makaroy song. 

                No Makaroy, I will not be your fan boy.  You have enough fans already.  Seeing as how the focus of the entire room is on the so called ‘badass’ it makes it easy to spot anything else going on.  And sure enough, out of the door on the other end of the room from the instant paparazzi, a familiar face emerges.  It’s that Dr. guy.  Devivo.  What is he doing here?  Better go find out. 

                I shuffle towards Devivo, “Dr. Devivo,” I call out. 

                Devivo looks around to locate the source of my voice.  When he locates me he stops so I can catch up.  “Ah, Detective Bloodworth,” he says in a way that suggests we are old friends.  “I see you are making a visit to your nation’s capital.”

                “I happen to be here for a meeting,” I reply, “Why are you?  I thought you’d be trying to get a foot hold here, considering the policy your country holds.”

                “Oh, but you are mistaken,” answers Devivo, “That policy does not apply to me because I was the head researcher.  What I had to lose was the research I was conducting.  What those traitors to the state had to lose was their citizenship.  Everything requires a punishment.  I had mine and they had theirs.”

                “Alright, cut the crap,” I say, “You and I both know those people were framed.  You admitted it to me yourself, ‘none of the workers in the facility could’ve been responsible.’”

                “A temporary block on an inevitable war,” Devivo replies.

                “What makes you say war is inevitable?” I ask.

                “Last night someone destroyed the servers holding the data from my facility," begins Devivo, "Now I hold the only copy.  Whoever wanted to destroy that data isn’t going to stop just because someone else is taking the blame.  I wouldn’t put it past them to make another huge incident out of the whole ordeal.”

                “If you think you’re in danger, why not go back to Decoria?” I ask.

                “Oh, but it doesn’t matter where I go,” Devivo answers, “They will hunt me down anywhere.”

                “So why tempt another international fiasco?” I ask, “Is war worth it?”

                “To tell you the truth, I don’t care,” Devivo replies, “If the people after my research want to wake the beast to do so, let them.”

                “It sounds like you want war,” I conclude.

                “No, I am indifferent,” he answers, “But others might desire for war to take place.  Just be careful with what you decide.  It only takes a few careless mistakes to start a fire.”

                “That much is true,” I agree.

                “Now, I’m afraid I must be going,” says Devivo.  “I have another meeting to attend.  If you feel compelled to contact me, I will be staying at the Decorian embassy for the rest of the week.”

                “I’ll be sure to look you up if I have a question,” I reply. 

                Devivo turns and begins to walk towards the exit.  Something about him just doesn’t feel right, and I can’t shake it.  I feel like he knows what’s going to happen next and just won’t tell me.  But then again, it might just be me.

                I turn to see if Alicia has emerged from the Makaroy Taylor club.  No, the crowd only seems to be growing.  Typical.  Something catches my eye though.  A lone person away from the crowd, walking away alone.  He’s wearing a sweatshirt with the hood up as if to obscure his face.  Now I’m not someone to profile, but this is the sort of situation I have to watch.  Where did he come from? He doesn’t seem to be coming from the crowd.  He doesn’t see me.  Let’s see what he does. 

                He walks right past me.  It seems as if he is walking towards Devivo who is making his way to the exit.  It doesn’t seem to be, it is.  This punk is trailing Devivo.  That’s not good.  Devivo said they were still after him.  If stuff like this were happening, I’d be paranoid to.  I begin following the man, and then I notice him pull a gun out of his pocket.  Red flag.

                “Freeze, LPD,” I shout drawing my own gun and aiming it at the punk.  He turns and points the gun at me.  There is a split second as he takes in the situation.  He realizes that whatever he was trying to accomplish has already failed.  He drops his aim and begins running for one of the doors to the interior of the building.  I chase after him, but he happens to be closer.  He whips something out of a pocket and slides it in front of the door scanner.  The door opens for him and he makes it inside and manages to close the door as I grab on to the handle.  Now I’m locked out.  He got away.  I slam my fist on the door out of frustration.

                “Step aside officer, I’ll take it from here,” says a deep voice from behind me.  I turn to see Makaroy Taylor brandishing his signature sawed off shot gun, because as Makaroy says, handguns are too small.  He swipes his card on the door and it opens.

                “Don’t you think it would be better if we worked together?” I ask as he steps though the door in front of me in no hurry.  The perp isn’t anywhere in sight.  “If we split up we’ll find him faster,” I argue.

                “I told you I got this,” barks Makaroy stepping ever so calmly down the hall.

                The door closes behind us.  Alicia must be out in the lobby still.  “Well, sir, I feel compelled to help, whether you want me to or not.”

                “Look,” says Makaroy, continuing his march forward, “If you want to snoop for this guy, be my guest.  I don’t think you have what it takes to handle it.”

                “Is that a challenge?” I ask, “Why don’t we make this a competition then, if I find him first, then you have to admit you’re wrong about me.  If I’m wrong then, I will admit that you, the all mighty and powerful Makaroy Taylor are in fact, god.”

                “Your funeral,” replies Makaroy. 

                “Fine then,” I say.  I charge ahead and make a right at an intersection in the hallway.  Makaroy’s a jerk.  Some kind of national symbol he is.  I knew there was a good reason his whole empire disenfranchised me. 

                This place seems deserted.  Maybe the public is right.  Maybe nothing really goes on here.  It’s possible.  The thought crosses my mind that if some uninformed security guard finds me running down the hall way with a gun drawn, it might end badly for me.

                I come to another intersection and now someone has a hold of my arms.  It’s the perp.  He’s trying to force the gun out of my hand.  I know exactly how to throw him.  I take a step back, and his grip pulls him with me.  Now that he’s off balance from colliding with the corner, I push forward tipping him off his feet.  He lets go of my arms and lands flat on his back.  He flips over and tries to crawl away, but I land my knee in his back, grab a hold of his arm and put him in a hold.  Yeah, I know it’s not a standard police maneuver, but sometimes you got to improvise. 

                “You’re lucky,” I tell him, “I don’t happen to have any handcuffs today.  Looks like I’m holding you here until some come my-“

                I stop mid-sentence as something metal pokes me in the back of the head.  Something like a gun barrel, a double barrel. 

                “Let him go,” comes the distinctive voice of Makaroy Taylor.

                “Is this how we play, Makaroy?” I ask, choosing not to move yet, “You don’t have to be that much of a sore loser.  I thought we were going to be friends.”

                “Shut up,” he barks, “I wasn’t playing your game.  I was trying to keep you from getting involved.”

                “Do as he says,” mumbles the perp.

                “Shut up boy!” shouts Makaroy, “This whole situation is FUBAR because of you!  I mean, did you have to pull out your gun in front of the one guy in the room not distracted by my fiasco who also happens to be a cop?”

                “Oh, so that’s why you’re not playing nice Makaroy,” I deduce, “You behind this plot to kill Devivo.  Tell me Makaroy, have you started any fires recently?”

                The two freeze for a moment, caught dead by my accusation.  “He knows too much,” mumbles the unnamed perp beneath me. 

                “I know, I’m not that stupid,” barks Makaroy, “We have to kill him.  I just got to think of the right way to do it.  If I shoot him now, they’ll know it was with my gun.”

                “Point the gun away from my brother’s head!”  I can’t see what’s going on behind me, but I presume that Alicia has shown up and has her gun pointed at Makaroy. 

                “Sis, your timing is convenient, but how did you get back here?” I ask, “I thought the doors locked from that side.”

                “Your little hooded friend dropped his counterfeit key card right by the door.  I’m surprised you didn’t see it before,” answers Alicia, “I wonder if Makaroy here created it for his little friend? I think so.”

                “Oh, it’s the fan girl,” laughs Makaroy, “Just five minutes ago, you were swooning over me.  What changed?”

                “You pointed a gun at my brother’s head!” shouts Alicia, “Now, say another word and I’ll castrate you with bullets!”

                “Sis, please tell me you’re aiming at his head,” I ask.

                “Ha,” laughs Makaroy, “This is quite the standoff.  If anyone makes just one wrong move, then half of us are dead.  All it takes is someone to fire.”

                On cue with the last word spoken by Makaroy, the perp’s arm begins to heat up.  Heat up to the point that it burns my hands and I jump back in shock.  The perp rolls over, and before I know it, there’s a huge ball of fire in my face.  The perp slips out from under my knee, and I hear Alicia get knocked backwards behind me.  I then get knocked forwards as Makaroy pushes through me and the flames consuming my face.  And as about as soon as that all happened, the flames disappear, and Makaroy and the perp are gone.  An alarm starts buzzing, and the sprinkler system turns on in the hallway.

                “Are you all right?” asks Alicia staggering over to where I sit getting soaked by the water sprinklers. 

                I feel my face.  I don’t feel burnt.  “Did you see that fire?” I ask, standing up and turning around to face her, “That was right in my face.  I should be dead.  Do I still have my eyebrows?”

                “Uh, yes,” she replies, “And look,” she says, pointing to my chest.  It’s coming from the pendant I’m wearing around my neck.  The one with the orb in it.  The orb is glowing green.  The light is shining through my shirt.  I pull the pendant out and the light only gets brighter. 

                “What do you suppose that means?” I ask.

                “I’m not sure,” Alicia replies, “But that thug had one of those orbs too.”

                “Really?” I ask.

                “Yeah, it was glowing red right before there was fire everywhere,” she answers. 

                “What did the letter say these were?  ECDs? Elemental control devices?  I believe it.”  I answer.

                “Do they all blast fire in people’s faces then?” asks Alicia.

                “It’s possible,” I answer, “But I believe they all do something different.  That’s why they all glow different colors, and they glow when they’re activated.  But then again, Tamara’s seems to let you see what color the orbs are when they aren’t activated.”

                “But then again, that’s all guesses,” concludes Alicia.

                “Yes, all guesses, but we don’t have much else to go on,” I say.

                “So switching the topic, what was that all about?” asks Alicia.

                “Oh, that guy I chased,” I explain, “He was going to try and kill Dr. Devivo.”

                “Dr. Who?” asks Alicia.

                “Dr. Devivo,” I reiterate, “He was the lead researcher for the facility that burned down yesterday.  He’s one of the people who asked for us to be on the case.  Point is Makaroy was helping this thug by causing a distraction.  So when I chase down this thug, Makaroy shows up behind me and admits he’s playing on the thug’s side.”

                “So wait, did you conclude that Makaroy and the thug are responsible for the fire yesterday?” asks Alicia.

                “Well, I did ask them about it in a round-about way.  They did sort of admit it by claiming I knew too much and that they had to kill me, so yes I’d say they did it.  We also seem to have found the way they did it too.  One detail the fire marshal told me is that no accelerant assisted the fire and the fire seemed to start in multiple locations all at once.  I have a feeling that orb doesn’t use an accelerant.”

                When I finish my conclusion the sprinklers turn off, but not soon enough.  I’m drenched.  A whole line of suits begin pouring down the hallway.  They must be Prevailian secret service.  They pull and aim their guns towards us.  Alicia and I raise our hands, but not before I pull out my badge.

                “It’s okay, we’re cops,” I announce.  Doesn’t do anything, they still aim towards us.

                “Lower your weapons, they’re supposed to be here, lower your guns,” shouts a voice from behind all the suits.  He pushes his way to the front.  “They might have shown up a little early, but I think what they just saw here will save me some time explaining.”  His burning red hair is so distinctive.  It is none other than the Prevailian Chairman, Murphy Patterson.  The suits all lower their guns.  “Though if you had managed to detain them, we would be out of this mess.”

                “Sorry sir, they brought fire, lots of fire,” I reply.

                “And you brought your sister,” Murphy adds.

                “At this point,” I begin, turning to Alicia, “A more than worthwhile investment.”

                “Alright, I guess she has earned her stay,” answers Murphy, “Follow me.”  He turns and walks down the Hallway, Alicia and I follow, and the multitudes of suits cover our rear.  “This room will do fine,” announces Murphy.  He opens the door and lets us enter first.  “Please take a seat,” he offers.  This is the Prevailian council chamber.  I know it only from photos, but it is unmistakable.  This is where the Prevailian council meets on a regular basis.  At the moment, it is empty except for the round table around which the council sits. 

                Alicia and I sit down, Murphy grabs a chair and turns it to face us.  “Now, Alex, I think you’re smart enough to figure out why you are here, why I recommended you for the case yesterday.”

                “It’s because even if President Rexrode decides to scapegoat a few people to avoid war, the real suspects are still out there and they aren’t finished.” I conclude.

                “Correct,” says Murphy, “Now normally, with this sort of issue, I’d put Makaroy Taylor on the case.  That brings us to the second issue-“

                “Makaroy is the Issue,” I conclude.

                “I’ve suspected for a week that he’d gone rogue,” Murphy admits.  “And what you witnessed just now confirms my suspicion.  I just now revoked all of Mr. Taylor’s Arkhe privileges.”

                “Are you asking me to track them down sir?” I ask, “Because unfortunately I need there to be an official investigation for me to do that.”

                “First,” begins Murphy, “Between you and me, it’s Murphy, not sir.  Second, I am aware that you are not legally allowed to pursue this case in your current position.”

                “You wouldn’t be suggesting that I will be switching positions soon would you?” I ask, “Is this why I’ve been on your radar?”

                “When you were in high school,” begins Murphy, “You took a standardized test, the PPA, along with every other kid in Prevailia.  This test has no bearing on the future of most students.  It is a way to catalogue the personalities and proficiencies of every Prevailian citizen in case of future need.”

                “Yes, I’m aware,” I say, “Those results appear on background checks on potential suspects.”

                “The test serves one other purpose though,” Murphy explains.  “The position of the Prevailian Arkhe is of the utmost importance.  The role belongs to the best Prevailia has to offer.  The test helps determine that, and for a while you have been on the top of that list.”

                “Me?” I ask astounded.

                “Yes,” replies Murphy, “Your sister wasn’t far behind you, but as far as the top of the list goes, it’s you.  On top of that, your police academy records got added on.  You are a physical match for the job, as well as an excellent police record, you are the best candidate.”

                “But the position is only open for one person, correct?” I ask.

                “That’s the idea,” Murphy answers.

                “Then that’s where we have the problem,” I say, “Everything I am, everything I do, it’s made possible by Alicia here.  Now your tests don’t say that, but I do.  I assure you that I will be incapable of the duties of Arkhe if my sister is not at my side every step of the way.”

                Murphy leans back in his chair and ponders what I’ve said for a second.  "The constitution states only one person can hold the position of Arkhe," he begins, "There’s nothing I can do about that.  However, the way the Arkhe carries out his duties are up to him.  So this is what I propose.  You accept the role of Arkhe, and you can hire your sister as assistant Arkhe, co-Arkhe, whatever.  I can see to it, that she receives the same privileges, clearances, and salary as you do.”

                “That plan sounds alright to me,” I say, “How about you sis?”  I turn to Alicia and see that her eyes are glassy, holding back tears.  But these are happy tears.  I can tell.  She was hesitant when hearing about my job offer.  But when I defended her, when I said that she is everything that I am, it only reinforced the Idea that I am going nowhere.  A few well-placed words displaced all her concerns.

                “I think it’s a perfect plan,” she answers smiling.

                “Good,” says Murphy, “I then officially declare you, Alexander Bloodworth, the new Prevailian Arkhe.  And your sister, er-“

                “Arkhe as well,” I finish, “I want her to have the same title as me.  Even if it’s different on paper, she is my equal.”

                “Okay, fine,” Murphy stumbles, “Whatever you just said.”

                “Is that the most official ceremony we get?” Alicia asks.  I think she only just now feels privileged to talk.

                “Well at the moment, there doesn’t seem to be time,” Murphy explains.  “As you can see, war is still likely if we don’t get this situation under wraps.”

                “Just how dire is the situation,” I ask.

                “At the moment it’s stable,” explains Murphy.  “Christian Rexrode tells me that he has no control over where the Decorian army moves in his own country.  But he can keep them from crossing the border.  He went back into the PRD this morning to, as he said, ‘yell at an over-provocative general siting bullshit reasons for mobilizing his troops.’  He left his daughter here in town at the Decorian embassy to have a stellar reason to tell his parliament not to go to war.”

                “What about the suspect the Decorians are asking for?” Alicia asks, “If she doesn’t appear, is that going to affect anything?”

                “I don’t think it will,” Murphy answers.  “But if Makaroy manages to pull any more stupid stuff then war may be inevitable, so you two better get cranking.  Here, follow me.  I’ll get you punched into the system.  Do you have any leads on where they might be headed?”

                “I have a hunch,” I reply, “But to be sure, I think we’re going to have to hear a story from our uncle first.”