city of anarchy

chapter fifteen

Then there was another phonecall.

Yvonne answered, just as Agent Avgi ended her call, the usually set expression on her face showing the quickest glimmer of surprise.

Agent Yvonne put her own phone to her ear.

'Yvonne? This is Agent Paul. We're at the Clue Street address.'

She had forgotten all about it. 'You're at Clue Street?' she repeated for the benefit of the room, putting the phone on speaker. 'You took your time.'

'Yeah, we think a police vehicle was trailing us. It took us a while to lose them. We had to make most of the way on foot.'

'I see,' said Yvonne. 'Did you find anything useful? Anything left around that we can follow up on?'

'You could say that, yes,' replied Agent Paul. 'There's a dead body lying on the floor. Except for that, the place is completely empty. The corpse looks weird--mangled. We've been unable to determine the cause of death, but he looks like he haemorrhaged all over or something. It's pretty disgusting.'

Agent Avgi's eyes had been watching the phone like it was performing an unexpected trick. She looked up at Yvonne. 'What has Clue Street to do with any of this?' she demanded.

'I'm sorry, Avgi; I completely forgot to tell you,' said Yvonne. 'Back at the hospital, I had been talking with Hermes about his internship. This Clue Street address was the place he was interviewed. I thought I'd follow up on it, but honestly I wasn't expecting anything.'

Avgi looked Hermes' way--he nearly flinched. 'Very well,' she said, and turned back to the phone. 'Have you not been able to identify the body?'

'I'm afraid not, Agent Avgi. We checked his clothes--he has no form of identification on him. However, there is a mark on his right hand: a tattoo, by the looks of it. The only one on him. A simple circle, solid black, fairly large. Definitely hasn't been inflicted by the killer, because it's not fresh. Though neither is he.'

'Thank you, Agent Paul.' Avgi ended the call.

'Beans,' she said, 'how much of our databases are still intact?'

'We have most of the stuff backed up on disc, which I brought with me, because I'm such a forward-thinking, model employee. Everything but the last month. You ant me to crosscheck? It might take a while.'

'Do it,' said Avgi. 'Yvonne, you must make your way to the Kogen building before we suffer any more delays.'

Yvonne nodded. 'I'll go on my own,' she said. 'Keep it as low-key as possible.'

'Alright,' said Avgi. 'The rest of you--' She smacked the desk. '--wake up! Stay alert, before I staple your eyes open! Agent Ian, keep things organised. I'm going to see the Mayor.'

'What are your names?' asked the man on the throne.

Neither of them had the courage to reply. They had nobody to address; it was like talking to the air, or a ghost. The visible limbs were merely extra machinations that made the whole thing more unnerving than it already was. Holly kept waiting for him to shift in his seat and reveal himself--any other part of himself, even if it were just an eye. But though he shifted, the shadows remained firmly in place.

She blinked, rubbed her eyes, blamed the fog of the alcohol and glanced again at the man whom they had earlier pursued. He offered no consolation; like the others who stood next to and opposite him, he was half-obscured by the lack of light, though they were not hidden so impenetrably as their master on the throne, and anyway he merely reminded her of more spectacle she had no explanation for.

Then she realised what else was unnerving, apart from the fact that they had been brought into a small, dark room by people whom they did not know: on top of everything else, she felt suddenly as if she and Eugene had somehow become a part of a mystic ritual. And she did not like to think what else such a thing might entail.

'You're not going to answer?' pressed the man.

'Who are you?' Holly asked instead.

The hands gripped the throne and the feet shifted as if the man were leaning forward, but still no more of him appeared. 'I did not say you could ask questions of your own. Though I might give you such a privilege if you co-operate. Your names, please.'

In half a drunken bravery, Holly tried to make herself taller and said, 'Holly Hazzler. And this is my associate, Eugene Quirkor. What do you want from us?'

'What do you want, Holly Hazzler?' came the voice. 'You are, after all, the ones who came here.'

'We like to dance,' said Holly, knowing that her statement fell flat on its face before the grin of their earlier acquaintance.

'Of course, I know why you're here,' said the voice, brushing aside her reply. 'Vann was intrigued by your pursuit and he directed you here. Vann has a good eye for potential recruits.'

'What are you?' asked Holly. 'Some kind of cult?'

'The Dark Circle is a club--but we have behind the scenes a very... special membership. I would be willing to offer you both a place. Just as I offered Dorz and Russ. The process is simple enough--'

'Wait,' said Holly. 'Dorz and Russ? They were working for you?'

The man in the shadow seemed to lean back, satisfied. 'Dedicated followers. They firmly believed in our cause. Their initiation was merely waiting for the success of their mission--'

'You made them kidnap me?' Holly cut in, the anger in her suddenly rising.

'Unfortunately, it seems,' the voice continued calmly, 'they panicked. They took matters into their own hands, having severed all contact as the mission demanded.'

'So your Dark Circle wanted a look around the Facility, and you sent Russ and Dorz and made it so that if anything went wrong, they'd be screwed but it wouldn't come back to hurt you?' challenged Holly, feeling herself sober up as her fury at their unjustified entanglement boiled to the surface again.

'They knew exactly what was demanded of them. As I have said, they were dedicated to our cause.'

'But they were incompetent,' said Holly. 'They kidnapped me because they'd got it into their heads that I could somehow incriminate them, and then Dorz told me too much. And then I escaped. Vann doesn't have as good an eye for recruits as you think.'

Vann's grin dropped from his face. Holly was rambling, but she was enjoying her attack on what had so far been, she felt, a very smug treatment.

'So you gave them up to the police?' he enquired.

Holly's defiance momentarily faltered in a returning guilt. 'Yes,' she said, more quietly. 'They had kidnapped me.'

'But the police already had a suspect in custody. What possible reason would they have for accepting your story?'

'We had evidence!' declared Eugene, breaking his silence. 'Evidence that proved that I was not responsible for the blowing up of the Conceptual Realisation Facility, as I was so ridiculously accused!'

'Ah. And what evidence would that be?'

'Wait,' said Holly, stopping Eugene's reply. 'Don't tell him anything else. You've had your fill of questions,' she said to the throne. 'You know our place in this story. Now I want to know yours! Why are you hiding? Why don't you show yourself?'

The man leaned forward again, this time further than before. The shadows seemed to stretch from the throne as he moved, seemed to shift physically. No matter how many times Holly blinked, the illusion was not broken.

Then he asked, 'And what makes you think there is any more of me to see?'

Eugene stared.

'That's ridiculous,' said Holly.

'Is it?' said the thing on the throne, and somehow, the darkness shifting, she detected the vague shape of a head tilting inquisitively to the side. 'Is it also ridiculous that a man should fall from a great height and hit the ground nearly unscathed?'

'Yes,' said Holly. 'It fucking is.'

'Tell me then, Holly and Eugene, why you felt the need to return to your former place of captivity? You had earned your freedom, after all. What possible reason could you have had for your return? Could it not be that you are interested in learning more about all the things friend Dorz was telling you? Have you, I wonder, reason to believe in our cause after all?'

'No,' shouted Holly. 'No! You're all freaks and I'm leaving. Let's go, Eugene.'

She about-turned and pulled Eugene with her. His head did not turn with the rest of his body and he remained gazing wide-eyed at the invisible man.

The other figures in the room revealed themselves; Vann's weaselly grin blocked her path just as she fixed her eyes on the door. 'Don't be so impolite,' he jeered. 'We have not finished speaking.'

Holly glared at him. 'Don't make me hurt you,' she said.

Vann was pushed to laughter; he looked darkly at her from beneath his brow, his grin a white crescent beneath his tilted, shining forehead. 'I'd really like to see you try,' he said.

Holly's eyes narrowed. She turned fiercely to the shadow-man. 'How many of you bastard thugs does this city need? We don't want to be a part of whatever freakshow this is! The only reason we went back to Dagger Road was for some help; some answers--not some fucking mystic in a high-chair! I already lost a friend for getting involved with people like you! I nearly lost Eugene, too! All we want is to find out why the police are trying to kill us over that video recording that Dorz never should have shown me, so we can, you know, stop them trying to kill us! The last thing we need is more of this crap!'

There was a pause. Then the shadow retreated back into his throne, his arms still resting.

'The police have acted more brazen than I had expected,' he said thoughtfully. 'Too much power in one place, as I have been saying all along. Our cause is now more important than ever.' Holly detected his head lifting. 'We share the same cause, Holly Hazzler. Your mission will, unfortunately, not be as simple as you'd hoped, but should you join us, should you fight for our cause, Commander Brutt may be stopped. And you may have your revenge.'

Holly, now completely sober, studied the darkness where she thought his eyes should be. Eugene had not stopped staring, and now his bright, brown eyes were wider than ever.

'And what exactly is your cause?' Holly demanded.

The arms gestured expansively. 'To let the truth be known to everyone. To make them all ready to see it. I am only hiding because I must--what the members of the Dark Circle achieve can only be achieved in this way. It is a state of affairs brought about by those who are keeping all the power to themselves; a system we wish to subvert. You are more fortunate than you think, Holly Hazzler--you and Eugene have the chance to be among the first enlightened.'

Holly said nothing. She heard Eugene exhale; he was transfixed.

Behind her, Vann's manic grin was broader than ever.

'The truth began behind the walls of that Facility,' continued the shadow, resting his arms again. 'We can deliver it to the world, Holly--but first, you must tell me what you have seen of it. You must tell me about that video recording.'

'The Dark Circle nightclub. Skirmish Street.'

Agents Avgi and Yvonne listened to Beans' message from their respective vehicles, heading in opposite directions, phones open and transmitting on the seats beside them.

'What about it?' said Avgi, her eyes on the road.

'It took a lot less time than I expected to find anything useful,' explained Beans, 'but something came up in the logs for routine cataloguing three months ago. The tattoo we found on the body's right hand matches the distinctive mark worn by the private members of that club--we can take it to be a very literal symbol. We had them flagged for possible gang-related activities; a brief investigation didn't really yield anything, and they were deemed insignificant enough to pay no further attention, but they've been on our records ever since.'

'I see,' said Avgi. 'Beans, inform Agent Ian that he is to take a handful of Agents to this nightclub to investigate. Tell him to take Hermes. And remind him to be cautious: we do not know what we are dealing with.'

'Will do,' said Beans, ending his side of the call.

'Avgi,' Yvonne spoke, 'I am at the Kogen building now. I will call you as soon as I find anything.'

'Alright, Yvonne,' replied Avgi. 'Stay alert.'

'Yes, Avgi.'

Yvonne's car pulled in to the car park and slid into a parking space, stepping out. The night air had a cold nip to it and blew at her hair.

She looked up the ultramodern glass wall of the tower: the front face curved sleekly back and gave the building an elliptical, semi-circular shape. Governor Electa Grieve lived right at the top, looking out over the city.

Yvonne grabbed her phone and tucked a gun into the lining of her trousers. She strode towards the entrance, her black blouse fluttering in the breeze, her pale face illuminated by the glaring light ahead.

She pushed open the glass doors of the entrance, each one emblazoned with the building's stylised lion logo, each facing the other. The doors peeled away from their frames with a soft, sticky sound, let the wind blast its way into the lobby, then heavily swung closed again.

Then Yvonne paused, flicking her hair back behind her ears. At the other end of the shiny floor, well-dressed attendants stood behind a desk, eyeing her casually.

She extracted her Agency identification from her pocket and showed it to them. 'I need the access number for the penthouse suite,' she said.

The young man behind the counter ogled. 'I'm sorry, ma'am, but Governor Grieve explicitly requested that e not let anyone in under any circumstances--'

'There may be an attempt on the Governor's life,' Yvonne interrupted him. 'Please do not waste time. Is she in?'

'No, ma'am,' said the attendant. 'She's been out all day. If you'd like, I could call her--'

'No,' said Yvonne. 'The threat concerns her penthouse specifically. She will of course be informed, but the suite must first be checked, with haste and the least inconvenience to herself. The code, please.'

The attendant looked flustered, but gave in to her icy stare. 'Three eight seven nine,' he told her.

'Thank you,' said Yvonne. 'I will go up alone. It may not be safe.' The attendant nodded, exchanging a worried glance with his fellows.

Agent Yvonne held her stare for a moment longer, then walked to the lift. They would no doubt try to contact Grieve and notify her of the situation, or if the security in the penthouse was at all substantial Grieve would somehow be alerted anyway, but Yvonne would have enough time to get in and get out.

And, she told herself, if the attendants had deliberately given her the wrong code, they would have no faces by the end of the night.

The doors of the lift slid shut behind her and she ascended.

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