Chapter 4 – The Seeds are Sprouting
It was almost 9'o'clock in the morning, and Rikriel was being outright beaten. Guy beamed at his continuing victory, and Rikriel patted him on the back. Other people were with them, criminals mostly, although they were sparse and kept mostly to themselves. Rikriel couldn't help thinking about how much he was enjoying himself despite his circumstances; even the recreation room was untouched by recklessness: the carpet was a clear blue and the walls unstained silver. Rikriel wasn't surprised at this higher standard of criminal living; he was again reminded of his old Diplomacy classes. Crime had always been behind the scenes of this pristine city, and most that tried their luck were dealt with personally by the hired men of their victims. Perhaps Ode was trying to make a point, sending him to a public prison, although Rikriel failed to see what exactly he intended. The prison itself reflected the city and Rikriel was glad to know first-hand that whoever ran Esthar was too proud to even let the criminals suffer in destitution.
Guy potted the final ball.
"That guy that brought you in, that was Mr. Ode, right? He runs that science company near the Airstation?"
Rikriel looked up, his green eyes glared at Guy's blue for a moment, a sign of recognition. Guy weaved around the pool table and threw himself in to the sofa that sat directly before a small television. He patted the space next to him and sank back. Rikriel sat down with decidedly greater care, but had to spend a good few seconds readjusting his position in order to achieve some semblance of comfort. They both let the air out of their lungs.
"I heard he's had some kind of falling out with the big guys, I mean, you know, the president and whoever's in that palace of his. I wonder what he could have done that was so bad, slept with his sister, maybe?"
Rikriel faked laughter, and quickly realised that he was as bad at doing so then when he was a teenager. Guy seemed not to notice, and for a moment Rikriel let the man slip out of his attention. It must have been about Ode's supposed involvement in the black market, and his allegation of treason. No doubt Ode would do everything in his power to appease the government, and Rikriel deduced that it was the very reason he was being put in the hands of Esthar. Rikriel crossed his legs after sitting more upright.
"See? There. Looks like he's got more than just the government on his back."
Rikriel turned to the television screen and concentrated.
"Public protests have erupted outside the main headquarters of the Belhelmel Medical Research Foundation as patriots and concerned citizens voice their anger at the CEO, Mr Westin Ode, who earlier today was accused of illegally manufacturing a Galbadian weapon by an anonymous letter sent to Esthar Today. The letter contained several parts of a schematic for some kind of missile, seemingly proving the claim. The president was unavailable for comment."
He leaned towards the display, his brow creasing and his eyes becoming wider. There was no file, how was this possible? There wasn't anything on that computer, Rikriel hadn't achieved anything, so how was everything now public? He bit the inside of his cheek and wondered, but there was nothing he could think of that showed itself as any kind of solution.
A guard entered the room, attracting a few glances from the other criminals but getting nothing from Rikriel, at least until his name was called.
"Rikriel Rezier?"
Rikriel immediately stood up, Guy following close behind.
"Your bail's been paid; there are a couple of men waiting to escort you outside the premises."
For a few seconds nothing registered. At least on the outside, nothing continued to register. Rikriel made a cursory sweep of the room, making sure that nobody had cast a Float spell on him. Of course no magic was allowed here, but for a brief moment he felt as though he could have banged his head on the ceiling. He simply nodded and followed the guard outside, stopping only to regard Guy and make eye contact with as many other prisoners as possible before he left.
"This just in..Gal…..is…..osed..o.b..readyi…..oop…"
As the guard had said, two men were waiting outside; two dark shapes that contrasted with the brilliant blues, greens and yellows of a city Rikriel now held in much higher esteem. They were wearing suits and looked like pleasantries were alien to them. Rikriel smiled sheepishly at them both, but his faced switched to neutral when he was only responded to with scowls. The guard made a point to announce his leave to the suited gentlemen before disappearing behind Rikriel's view.
"In the car."
It was really more of a van, Rikriel thought; black, big and with tinted windows. He decided that he would be surprised if the translucent blue roads could actually support this hulking vehicle. He climbed in and saw that the two escorts had followed him in to the back, sitting opposite him and maintaining their supervision. The euphoria of having an unknown future again wasted almost instantly then, turning into more of an apprehension and with each possibility less preferable than the last.
"Who…who are you?"
"Employees of your boss, Mr. Rezier. You'll be pleased to know he is still your boss."
Rikriel's insides recoiled, he wasn't sure if it was the reaction to good news or the fact that the car had lurched into motion. It must have been both.
"Why would he…"
"Listen." The left man sounded too brutish for Rikriel's liking. "I'm not sure what you did, but now Mr. Ode's calling for you, personally.
"The protests…that…that wasn't…"
"We know that already, Mr. Rezier. While you were running errands, the men that hired you acted out their own plan. They stole some research and built this lie around it."
Rikriel looked out the window. Shooting past were the tiers of roads, silver curves and yellow pipes that characterised Esthar as the most advanced and futuristic place in the entire world. Blue bulbs crowned various parts of the city and there was nowhere that the emblem of Esthar couldn't be seen. He raised his hand to shield his eyes against the sporadic bursts of reflected light that the city was notorious for among the locals. In the distance was a building far larger than that of Belhelmel's, or indeed any other, perhaps worldwide. The silver arched entrance, the puffed discs that circled it; the Presidential Palace had the remarkable feat of being impossible to not attract attention and admiration from all that entered the city. Even in spite of Esthar's dubious history, Rikriel doubted that there was a person alive who didn't marvel at the wonders of architecture this place could produce.
"After your capture, Mr. Ode received a letter from the ones that claimed to have hired you. They were asking for his resignation, but as you can see our boss gave in to no such demand. And while I'm sure your friends are feeling quite good at the moment, it didn't take us very much time to discover everything we needed to know about them."
Rikriel shuffled in his seat as if it would grant him superior hearing. He turned to face the man opposite him. He had spent many hours lying in prison, trying to get a logical answer as to his kidnappers' identities, and so he was now suitably intrigued.
"So who are they?"
"Three brothers: Enrin, Yurger and Riscah Callas. Their father worked for Mr. Ode, before he decided to start an alcohol problem. Of course Mr. Ode wouldn't allow such a risk as a drunk employee, so he was quickly asked to leave. Mr. Callas committed suicide 10 days later, leaving behind a family that hadn't otherwise prepared any means to survive. This was all around 3 years ago, so they certainly took their time, although I can't say those 3 years did them any good."
He could remember their faces clearly as Rikriel closed his eyes. He hoped that somehow they would come to know Rikriel's pity for them; even though they knowingly sent him to capture, he could understand their obsession with vengeance. For Rikriel, those doors closed a long time ago.
The car slowed to a halt, and Rikriel was beckoned outside. Before them rose the celestial structure of Belhelmel's headquarters and his current place of employment. It stood out from the surrounding structures in a display of conviction, it's tower ended abruptly to a flat roof and flags waved from high above bearing the logo of Esthar's premier research institution, behind only Odine Laboratories. The protesters must have all left, as the sun dwindled in the west. The lift on which the three had placed themselves floated downwards to the building's entrance. The courtyard was sprinkled with sculpted fountains, lining a large pathway to colossal doors. The reception area had taken Rikriel several weeks to become accustomed to. It was certainly large enough to induce vertigo for the inexperienced visitor; the walls, and in particular the golden symbol of Belhelmel dwarfed the reception desk and the woman behind it. She ignored the group as they passed through and quickly picked up the familiar route from a couple of nights before.
There was a small, dark mark on the burgundy carpet outside Ode's office, but they all missed it as they entered. Rikriel's boss, sitting at his desk, wasted no time in shooing the two suited men out of his room with a vicious gesture. Their departure left Rikriel and Westin Ode alone.
"Sir." Rikriel began, shoving his hand down and reminding himself for the hundredth time that salutes were no longer required greeting.
"Please…just, just sit."
Rikriel paused before complying; he eased himself into the chair that was turned out for him and rested his eyes on his superior.
"Thank you for…"
"Save the gratitude. Please."
His mouth closed.
"Rikriel Rezier. That is you, isn't it? You…were in SeeD once, weren't you? You were part of SeeD. It says so on your record. SeeD."
"That's…that's right." Rikriel drummed his fingers once, and only quietly, on the edge of the desk. He narrowed his eyes; what he hoped was too slight to notice. This man before him was not like the Westin Ode he had ever seen, not in almost ten years of employment. This man was starting to look pathetic.
"You saw the news, didn't you?" He asked, his voice cracking, higher pitched than it should have been. "Everyone did. I…I didn't care at first, you know? Just a few stupid kids…it was just a few stupid goddamn damn damn kids!" He suddenly slammed his fist on the table, Rikriel held his hands to his chest, and Westin fell over his desk, his head joining with his hands. He was quietly sobbing.
"Stop that. Stop crying." Rikriel chest heaved. He had just snapped at his boss. His hands planted firmly on the desk and he leaned over.
"Stop crying right now. You're acting like a child." Rikriel's voice was full of bitter venom, and with each word his back shuddered. Westin looked up over his damp fingers, and Rikriel withdrew slowly back to his chair.
"You would be the same…in my position, Rikriel. You have no idea what they're going to do, what they're already doing, what…what they've already done!" He shoved himself back into his hands. "They hired SeeD to kill me, they're coming for me. They lied to them. I'm not a traitor, Rikriel! I'm not a damn traitor!"
Rikriel couldn't speak. This man was now an infant before him, a fragile broken shell that was clearly incapable of handling any further chances for his own survival. He just stared at this man, seeing himself. Westin threw his arm up and grabbed Rikriel by the shoulder, his eyes shined with tears, but he looked angry.
"I've just been doing what we agreed. Every country needs military research; it damn well doesn't mean there's a war! Those bastard brothers…now the whole world thinks I'm a traitor, they're already blaming me for war, you know that? Do you?"
Rikriel stood up and backed away, letting Westin's hands drop to the desk. Rikriel's face wrinkled and his fists tightened to the point of drawing blood.
"So what I am here for? Why did you call me?"
Westin rose up and tossed out his arm; his hand shaking as he pointed.
"You're SeeD, you know their secrets! For Hyne's sake, you know them, Rikriel! You need to protect me from them!"
"And then I just go back to prison, is that it?" Rikriel knew that Westin would be more than willing to bargain rewards, given his current situation.
"No no no, of course not! I'll give you a promotion, uh, a raise, whatever you want! You need to do this for me, please."
Rikriel stood there, looking at him, considering his face, his predicament, his promises.
"Don't go in to hiding, don't make it look like you're scared. I'm sure your reputation has had enough trouble for now."
Westin held his breath in a gasp and scurried over until his was right beside Rikriel. He looked up with the bulbous eyes of surprise and his mouth hung open.
"Does…that, that means you'll do it?"
"Yes, yes."
Rikriel continued to speak with Westin now clinging to him as though his death was from an immediate fall. He was now sobbing again, digging his head into Rikriel's shoulder, getting his t-shirt wet. It was too hard a grip to escape from. He sighed to himself.
"If they were hired today, they'll be here today."
"My men got hold of a copy of the contract just before I sent for you. It was only released a couple of hours ago, and they're being dispatched from Garden itself, and Garden's back at Balamb, so, so we still have a while, right?"
"They might be coming through FH, but these types of missions usually mean that Garden will deliver them personally. I'd give them three hours."
Ode's breath slowed.
"Good, that's good to hear, still a few hours. And I've read the report, it's just a small team, so it should be easy to take care of."
"When they arrive I'll try my best, and my best is all I can promise, to convince them to leave, but there's...just one thing I need before I can do this, Mr. Ode."
"A..anything. Anything at all!"
Westin released his grip and stood back as Rikriel brushed himself down in disgust. He then looked up, rubbed his eyes and nose and scrubbed at his shoulder.
"My edgeblades."
