Chapter ten
Calgary was about this close to screaming in terror. He managed to tap the button to end the recording and save it, typing in "AAAAH" for a file name.
Oh god oh god oh god, he was screwed.
He was gonna die.
He was gonna fucking die.
He could hear Caleb getting up from his desk and walking towards the door, and that meant he had seconds- SECONDS- to think of a plan.
A bizarre thought popped into his head.
Squids use ink to escape predators, right? What do Calgaries use, then?
And the worst, stupidest, most ludicrous idea of all time flashed into his mind.
Fuck it, it would have to do.
Calgary stood up, stuffing his phone into his pocket and pulling out his wallet.
"FUCK YOU CORVUS!"
He came out of the closet screaming like a banshee, turning on a dime and bolting out of Corvus's office before Caleb had so much as got past the secretary's desk.
He ran flat-out, around the corner, taking the steps down to the first-floor rotunda two at a time, all the while fumbling with his change pouch's zipper. Somehow, someway, by the grace of the lord almighty, he managed to unzip the pouch just as much as he needed without spilling coins all over the floor, and dumped a handful of change into his free hand.
"STOP THAT MAN!" Corvus roared from the second-floor balcony, "GUARDS! GUAAAAARDS! ARREST HIM! THEIF! SPY! HE WAS IN MY OFFICE!"
"Gimme a fuckin' break..." Calgary muttered. The guards were standing in front of the first set of doors, and one of them had a terrifyingly large gun that he was in the process of cocking and aiming-
"EAT LOONIES, FUCKER!" Calgary roared, winding up his arm and throwing the fistful of cold, hard cash right in the guard's faces from five feet away.
The thing that must be said about coins is that they are surprisingly heavy for such small bits of metal. The other thing that must be said is that chucking a handful of the fucking things in a panic results in a wide spray of metal akin to the spray from a shotgun, albeit much slower.
And in Calgary's panic, he manages to hit both guards square in the eye, one with a loonie and one with a toonie. It wasn't enough to so much as bruise the eyelid skin, but the sudden sharp contact was enough of a distraction for him to bound through both sets of doors and leap down the legislature's exterior steps.
They gave chase seconds later, of course, but by that time Calgary was already sprinting across the legislature lawn with the keys to his truck in hand, and by the time they were close enough to open fire he was backing out of his stall as recklessly fast as he could get away with.
A bit TOO recklessly, as it happened, since he clumsily reversed straight back into a CBC news van, bending his rear fender a bit and setting off the van's alarm, but right now, he didn't care at all.
As the guards started shooting, he was already streaking down the road as fast as possible, tearing ass to anywhere but here.
He had to ditch his truck. They would know. They'd call the cops, ring up his plates, and arrest him.
He still had Alberta's spare keys in his pocket; and she was away at a conference, which meant the ol' Lawbreaker's Pickup would still be sitting on her pad, gassed up and ready to get his ass the fuck out of dodge.
Despite the gravity of the situation, Calgary couldn't help but grin as he pulled onto the road to Alberta's house.
He'd always wanted to drive that truck.
Meanwhile in Kingston...
Alberta smiled at Saskatchewan, internally relieved that the voices in her head seemed to go quiet in his presence.
"Hey, Sasky!" she said cheerfully, "So, how was the meeting?"
Saskatchewan stopped dead in his tracks. He had several questions, first and foremost of which was why in god's name his sister smelt like weed and burnt mushrooms.
Alberta caught the look on his face and sighed. "I was in BC's room, okay? I had to get her to sign something, and she was having one of her weirdass joint concoctions..."
It was only partially a lie; while it was true Alberta had had some herself, she had been in the room with the weed. She cringed- true to her word, she'd taken a hit of BC's joint, and...well. Weed she could deal with quite easily, but her sister had a habit of chopping up magic mushrooms and rolling them in with the marijuana, and those Alberta had never been able to deal with.
BC was kind enough to lead her to the sink and splash some water in her face by way of an apology, claiming to have forgotten the whole "Mushrooms make you trip out and see terrifying shit" thing. Alberta, for her part, took the paper and pen and used that as her excuse to bail on the whole sorry endeavour.
Saskatchewan shrugged. That he'd buy. It seemed credible enough.
"The meeting...went well." The farmer lied, knowing full well his sister could see through the practiced stoic face he presented to the world like it wasn't even there. He might as well have been wearing a sign around his neck reading "I'M LYING ABOUT THIS SHIT".
Strangely, Alberta seemed to have decided that she honestly didn't give a rat's ass about the lie, and continued on with her speil brazenly.
"I need you to sign this. It's, uh, a proposal. We're seeking approval to explore some, uh, sour gas fields in BC and, er, up in your north. Mine too. We're hoping to get some government backing on this, a grant and stuff...we also need approval from both provincial governments on the environmental side, 'cause we can't go breaking the regs... and the companies involved are hoping to hire locals to work on the project, which could give some jobs to the local First Nations and stuff."
Yeah, that...sounded good. The one thing Alberta could do with confidence was string meaningless oil-and-gas buzzwords together in a jumbled mess that only made sense until you thought about it.
Something which Saskatchewan picked up on right away. He knew his sister was just babbling, but the form she wanted him to sign...
"It's not from your boss, is it?" he asked pointedly. The moment of truth.
Alberta laughed nervously. "No, no, not at all. It's um, it's my proposal!"
Saskatchewan glanced at the paper. It was legalese. Great big chunks of legalese. The word 'hereby' every other word. Blatant abuse of the enter key. Numbers of provisions. And three lines to sign, two of which were already full.
If Alberta had written that proposal, he'd deep-fry his grey cup ring and eat it with potato chips on the side.
So her boss had written it. Corvus was up to something downright underhanded, and he was going to find out what. And then that fucker was in for a world of pain.
Saskatchewan needed to show that thing to Ontario, since the easterner was about the only one he knew that could decipher legalese. Somehow. Unfortunately, that would involve getting the form away from Alberta for long enough to take a clear picture of it. And to do that, he'd need to sign it.
Saskatchewan's mind raced as he wordlessly opened the door to his hotel room. He needed to sign the document, take a picture, and find a way to not be bound by its terms.
Think, Saskatchewan, think...
The only bit of Canadian law he'd studied thoroughly was the legal code surrounding personifications. Partly for his own ego (there was an entire volume dedicated to him) but also because he really had nothing else to do in the winter. He was a farmer who didn't have animals and didn't run cattle, so wintertime was his own to devote to whatever tasks he pleased. And he read a lot.
Saskatchewan cast his mind back to what he'd read. There was a core tenant that a lot of legislation was built around; he couldn't remember the exact wording, but...
...Proposals thus drafted in this manner and signed by the personifications in question in their own hand will be considered tantamount to House legislation and will be submitted to the Senate for review and approval, the exceptions being...
Saskatchewan started to walk to the end of the hotel room, keeping his back turned to his sister while he carefully switched the grey cup champion's ring on his right hand to the ring finger on his left. This was going to be the weakest defense in the history of mankind. This was so stupid.
He was screwed.
"So, will you sign it?" Alberta said hopefully, waiting patiently near the entrance.
Saskatchewan gulped.
"Yeah, lemme see it." He replied evenly, turning around to accept the paper from his sister. Alberta handed it over eagerly, and Saskatchewan laid it on the table, taking the pen in his left hand, and using his dominant right to pull his phone out of his pocket.
This was going to be a bit of a juggle...
Alberta was taller than him, so he held the phone directly against his torso as he signed it as slowly as possible. Trying to line up the photo one-handed while writing on a piece of paper was the sort of mind-mending bullshit that Saskatchewan usually tried to avoid, but, well, without this photo, he was fucked.
He managed to get it zoomed in and focused, and tapped the icon to take a photo.
CLICK!
Saskatchewan's heart skipped about ten beats. Fuck. Fuck. FUCK IT WASN'T ON SILENT FUCK-
"Sasky? Was that your phone?"
"I- uh, yeah. It, um...I went to update it the other day and it kinda messed up all the sounds." He lied, "It, um, makes that noise when I get a text now. I'll get it fixed when I'm back home."
He carefully stuffed the phone into his breast pocket, pulling his coat overtop to hide it.
"I, uh, I signed it." Saskatchewan said calmly, handing the paper back to her.
Alberta's suspicions melted away instantly. "Oh, awesome! Thanks Sasky, you really won't regret this!"
Saskatchewan grinned weakly.
Somehow I get the feeling that I will.
Meanwhile, on the QE2...
The Queen Elizabeth II highway was a multi-lane road connecting Calgary and Edmonton. The posted speed limit for the three-hour drive was 110 kilometres per hour.
Allegedly.
In reality, Albertans being Albertans, the real speed limit was somewhere between 120 and 160, depending on who was driving it that day. The one thing that was constant was that EVERYONE was speeding.
None moreso than the driver of a dark blue pickup truck that was weaving nimbly in and out of traffic with a responsiveness that would have embarrassed a sports car. The truck was a custom-built model from the ground up; the frame was made of the steel used in tanks, it had a cow-catcher cage in front of the grill and hood to keep animals from damaging the truck's blue bodywork. The engine had more horsepower than the driver would ever know what to do with, and to top it all off, the damn thing was Nitrous-boosted.
Alberta hated Ferraris, but she loved her truck to pieces.
Calgary was putting his foot to the floor, the blood ringing in his ears. He could feel Corvus on the horizon, a vast inescapable force that was going to get him, one way or another. The thought made him drive faster, terrified of getting caught by the man.
The keys swayed slightly in the ignition as he sped up and occasionally slowed down to pass by a cop at legal speeds; this part of the highway was patrolled by his police, so he knew where all the cops and the choppers were. It was a little unfair to the other drivers on the road; Calgary was speeding with all the cheats on.
AS he drove, the USB slapped gently against the other keys. He needed to get all the files off that thing offloaded, zipped up, and mailed off to the known universe as fast as possible, and then the recording on his phone. And then hopefully, that would call in Canada himself, or maybe the national guard, or just a regiment of really angry Mounties.
The only piece of good news was that Edmonton wouldn't be able to track him. Not this far south. The only person who'd be able to find him was Alberta, and she wasn't that far gone.
He hoped.
His phone started to ring, and he dropped out of warp speed and pressed a button inset into the wheel to take the call; Alberta's truck also had a car phone, and he had happily plugged his own mobile into it the minute he'd pulled out of her driveway.
"Helloooo, Cal speaking, who'm I talking to?"
"Hello, Calgary."
Calgary came extremely close to driving off the road and straight into the ditch, managing to right the vehicle's course at the very last second. His heart was cantering, eyes wide. No. No this wasn't...this couldn't be happening.
Who the fuck gave Premier Corvus his number!?
"I- Premier! What an, um, honour-"
"Can it, fool." The premier hissed, "I know what you took from my office. I know you were there. And one thing I have never been able to stand are thieves, boy."
The rage in the premier's tone had Calgary quaking. He spat the word "thieves" like it was a curse word; like it was a death threat.
"Only parasites steal from their betters." Corvus snarled, "And I despise all parasites. From the lowlifes on the street to the provinces in the east, and now, you."
Calgary shook
"I-I'm not a-"
"Quiet, idiot. You will learn what it means to cross me. You are a parasite, Calgary. A leech. A black fly. A worm. And if you weren't essential to my plans, I'd have you gassed out."
The city shuddered. "I-What- what are you going to do-?"
Corvus chuckled darkly.
"Why don't you ask your dear brother Edmonton?" he purred, "Say hello, Eddy."
Calgary half-expected to hear Eddy talking in some kind of emotionless monotone or something equally fucked up like that, but instead-
There was a faint click, and his brother...his brother screamed.
The screams went on for two seconds. Then three. Then five. A full seven seconds of listening to his brother in a kind of agony Calgary could scarcely comprehend. He'd gone pale, and numb, and he felt like he was going to throw up.
Yet there was rage, too. But before Calgary could open his mouth to howl at Corvus to stop whatever the hell it was he was doing to his brother, the screaming stopped.
And Corvus spoke.
"You can't run from me, Calgary. My slaves will find you. They will find you wherever you run. And they are coming for you, boy."
The line went dead as Corvus hung up.
A/N:
Since we seem to have a couple of international readers and since I strive for clarity of language:
-A loonie is a one-dollar coin, and a toonie is a two-dollar coin. They're both big fucking chunks of change and it would really hurt to get pelted in the face with them. Please don't get offended if you already knew that, I just want to make sure we're all on the same page.
This is probably the chapter where I should bump 'er up to mature, eh? Oh well.
Don't worry, it gets worse. :D
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