Chapter Two - Mixed Messages

The transport moved steadily along, the interior completely quiet. Erik was at the controls, watching boredly out the front window as he drove. Adam was in the passenger seat, having been asleep for the past few hours. In the back, stretched on a padded bench, was a sleeping Tarss. Seth, sitting near one of the tiny windows, appeared to by idly watching the countryside go past. Closer observation showed him to be keeping a close eye on their guest. Mel sat across the vehicle from him, a large black box on her lap, and headphones clamped to her ears, slowly turning a knob on the box's top, scanning communications channels.

A snore came from the front passenger seat, causing Erik to glance sideways in annoyance, muttering something about 'waking the dead.'

"Give him a nudge," Mel said, looking up. "He just caused interference with the scanner, doing that."

Looking back over his shoulder, Erik frowned. "Really? That's weird - only something subsonic should interrupt the signal."

"Uh, Erik . . . watch the road," Seth reminded him, looking uneasily at the older boy.

"Oh . . . right."

Looking back down at the scanner, Mel turned the dial back. "I don't know . . . right when he snored, there was a burst of static. If it wasn't interference . . . ." She jumped abruptly, eyes widening in surprise. "Got it!" Her thumb depressed a small button on the scanner's top, a red light coming on. "Recording."

Getting up, Seth crossed to her, dropping into the seat on her left. "Put it on speaker." Quiet sound filled the space as Mel took the headphone jack from it's port. The soft 'sshh' of static was the prevalent noise, with only snatches of understandable words scattered in between.

"-come........too late....now. For.........-lan to........we must.....on." The voice was male, to be sure, but unfamiliar to any of the Defenders awake to hear it. A second voice, also male, started in on the tail of the first, sounding considerably more harried.

".......possible! We........ources.......!"

".......we..ha.......the.....tion............anned.......ind........procu..........or.......ery...ad.....lear?

There was a pause, filled only with static. "I think we lost it," Mel said quietly, reaching for the recording cutoff. Just before she touched it, however, the second voice spoke again.

"......es, sir. Un.....ood."

A click was the first voice's only answer - he had disconnected. Knowing there would be nothing else coming, Seth reached over and hit the cutoff. "Odd little exchange," he mused. "Did you get anything out of it, Mel?"

She bit her lower lip in thought. "Not from the audio . . . . I can write up a transcript and see if there's anything I can put together, but don't get your hopes up."

Stretching, briefly, he reached out, giving her shoulder a squeeze. "Sounds good, but it can wait until tomorrow. Get some sleep."

Flipping the scanner's switch to the 'Off' position, Mel set it on the floor with a yawn. "You don't have to tell me twice. 'Night, everyone."

An hour later, Seth woke Adam for his turn at keeping an eye on Tarss, switching places with the other boy. Settling down in the passenger seat, he glanced across at Erik. "How are you holding up?"

"Just fine," the red-haired boy answered, good-natured as ever. "I caught a nap while waiting to be called in to the extraction point."

Closing his eyes, Seth relaxed at last. "All right. Wake me if anything interesting happens."

The transport trundled on through the night, with it's passengers either asleep, or awake with their own thoughts.

. . . . .

She sat almost perfectly still, the only motion coming from her eyes, which tracked back and forth across the page in front of her. Afternoon sun came through the window, ignored for now. A frustrated frown creased her forehead - things were not going well.

The door of the room opened, the three boys as well as Tarss stepping inside. Mel looked up, the frown disappearing. "Sorry, guys. I haven't got much yet." She waved a hand at the paper on the table. "With the static cutting out most of the conversation, there's not a lot of recognizable words."

Seth leaned over to look at the scattered words of the transcript. "Hmm . . . Erik, is there something you could do to the recording, make it easier to figure out the words?"

"Maybe," the other said slowly. "I thought about trying it last night, but I didn't think there'd be much; nothing is going to get us the whole thing."

"I just need enough to be able to piece it together," Mel said, getting to her feet. Her eyes turned to Tarss. "But for now, I do have something that Mr Speaker might be able to help us with."

Tarss tried to back away, only to bump into Adam. "I-I've told you all I know!" he protested. "There's nothing else that I have to say that would be of use - "

"When we're done, we'll tell you," Mel cut him off, starting to get annoyed. "Got it?"

". . . Yes, ma'am."

Taking the transcript, she held it up in front of Tarss' nose. "The frequency that this came in on is at the top - are you up on the latest government communication protocols?"

Tarss took the paper, skimming through the contents before focusing on the frequency. "Well . . . every caste has it's own private frequency, and it's used only by those operating directly out of the appropriate Consulate. To complicate it further, anyone with access to the frequency has their own extension."

Erik frowned in thought. "So a Peacekeeper in Arboth can be on the same basic frequency as one in Stiltown, but each with a way to reach him personally?"

"Exactly." Moving to the desk,Tarss picked up the pen Mel had been using. "Let's see now . . . . First two letters . . . three after that . . . and the three after that . . . ." He paused, scribbling furiously. "Yep. Your comm came out of Dakor, from the Questioner's Consulate in Yangorod."

"How do you figure that?" Erik asked, moving up beside him.

""The frequencies used by the government are coded," Tarss explained. "The first two numbers give the first two letters of the province." He pointed to the frequency number. "A four and a one, see? D-A. Dakor. Then, you get the next three numbers - they code for the city."

Seth's eyebrows lifted. "They actually numbered every city in RaDos?"

"Just province capitals, trade centres, places of governmental interest," Tarss answered distractedly. "Purely for communication reasons, you understand. Anyway, your next three digits - three-five-nine - code for Yangorod, put on the list because . . . ." Here, he glanced sheepishly at Seth. "Well, because there's an old Defenders' dojo near there. The Councilors figured you might try to head there at some point, and thought it'd be an opportunity to hook a shadow agent onto you."

"Admissions of subterfuge and conspiracy aside," Adam said, "how many places did the Council number?"

Tarss rubbed his chin. "Well . . . only as many as there are three-digit numbers. 100 to 999."

"And you have them all memorized?"

"Before I became a Speaker, I worked as a comm director in the Government Capital," as the proud answer. "Anyway, the last three numbers of the frequency tell you what Consulate it belongs to. In this case, seven-one-five is the Questioners."

"Wow . . ." Erik said, impressed. "That's pretty amazing - I mean, to come up with a system like that, not to mention putting it into play . . . ."

"Is there a way to figure out who our mystery Questioner was talking to?" Seth asked.

"Not from this one frequency," Tarss said, shaking his head.

Silence descended on the room, all eyes on Seth. After a moment, the dark-haired leader turned to Adam. "What do you think? You're the bureaucracy expert."

Arms folded, the other shrugged. "Depends. I think we could probably pull it off, but Tarss might just get in the way. I can't think of a reason we need him for this."

"Now hang on a second!" Tarss blurted worriedly. "What are you going to do with me?"

"Well, we'll leave that as a surprise."

. . . . .

The inn's dining area was brightly lit, the four Defenders gathered around a table close to the door, midway through their meal. After some discussion not long after the breakthrough with the frequency, it had been decided Tarss had, in fact, told them all he could be expected to.

"So how far out of town did you take him?" Erik asked, glancing between Seth and Adam.

"Only about ten klicks," the thief answered. "From where we dropped him, it's two klicks to the next town, so he'll be trying to call any buddies he has to come get him."

"Or us," Seth added seriously. "We'll be fine here for the night, but we need to head out right after breakfast."

Mel frowned. "You're thinking we should go to the Questioner's Consulate in Dakor?"

"I don't see why not," he answered with a shrug. "It's the first good lead we've had in weeks, and finding that Questioner will save us a lot of time working our way up the governmental foodchain."

"He's got a point," Erik said. "From here, it shouldn't take that long to reach Yangorod. Three days, if we don't stop."

"How do we find the Questioner once we get there, though?" Mel asked, folding her arms on the tabletop. "Yangorod is a big city - it could take months to find one particular person."

"The trick is getting inside the Consulate without getting caught," Adam said. "Any records we'd want would be in the main computer, which would be accessible from any terminal in the building."

"Yeah, except that every terminal would have a password protecting it," Erik put in. "If they follow standard government security procedures, then each computer will need a general password to sign in. After that, every person has to have a personal password to access their private files."

Seth sighed, running a hand back through his hair. "We've got three days to figure out a plan - for tonight, we'll get a good sleep, and start fresh tomorrow, once we're on the road to Yangorod."