The Trial of the Ghost

Chapter 17: ...And Know Your Enemies

Rox knew the easy part would be getting in. Some polite chatter with the receptionist about doing work when the office was quiet, and he was in without suspicion. Now, the hard bit. Acting as if nothing was wrong, or weird, or going on.

He kept his society smile plastered on his face, the one he usually reserved for cocktail parties. It was an easy mask to fall back on.

Was it just him, or was the elevator exceptionally slow today?

Ding. Third floor.

Ding. Fourth.

Ding. Ding. Ding. On and on again with what felt like a minute between each chime until he finally reached the top floor, the one with his office and with his father’s.

He walked to his office and set up. First of all, he needed to make it look like he was working. So, he pulled up his spreadsheets, making notes on a legal pad with his nearly empty pen. Once it ran out, he looked around his office.

No pens. He’d made sure of that last week.

So what choice did he have except to go to his father’s office for a spare pen? Really, it was only logical.

He put on a dramatic sigh for the cameras and bugs he knew were planted in his office. He pushed his chair away and slugged himself over to his dad’s office. He kept his hands out of his pockets. No need to draw attention to the flash drive hidden there.

He rifled through his father’s pens, deliberately clicking one–the one he knew put the obvious cameras on a loop and turned off all the secret cameras and microphones in his father’s office. Sometimes, his father needed to have a meeting where nothing got recorded. And today, his accidental clicking of that pen was his cover.

He selected a normal pen then fished out the flashdrive. He wasn’t even going to risk getting the password wrong, so Rox plugged in the flashdrive, watching it light up red.

Red was hacking. Yellow was downloading. Green was done. Corla had explained it before he left the day before.

Nothing left to do, he went back to his own desk and continued taking notes, keeping an ear out for the elevator’s ding. He didn’t think his father was coming in today, but it was his company. Always a risk.

Half an hour passed with him only hearing his own breathing and the scratch of his pen against paper.

Another half hour passed. He was safe. No one had come. He needed to check on the flash drive.

He put away the legal pad and got up again, for all intents and purposes, the loyal son returning a pen he no longer needed.

His footsteps partially muted by the rug, he approached his father’s door. He pushed it open as gently as he could.

But, sitting in the chair at the desk, was Pakeldan Thuelar, smiling a sickly sweet smile at his son as he fiddled with something in his hand.

“Hello, son,” Pakeldan said causally, like discussing the weather. “Close the door please.” Rox did immediately. “Now, what have those friends,” he spat the word as if he was describing the vilest of criminals, “of yours been getting you into?”

“Good morning father,” Rox replied, a look of polite confusion spreading across his face. “I’m afraid I have no idea what you’re referring to.”

“This.” Pakeldan extended his hand, showing off Corla’s flash drive.

Rox’s heart skipped a beat. “Father, are you quite well? That’s a flash drive. A normal flash drive.”

He laughed, loud and hard. “You know, one might think that, but it’s actually a clever little device made to copy all the files on a computer. I found it plugged into my computer.” He grinned at Rox. All Rox saw was a jungle cat hissing before striking. “Imagine what would have happened if I hadn’t caught it in time.”

“It’s good you did. That could have been disastrous for the company.”

“Indeed.” Pakeldan nodded. “I was reviewing security camera footage, when, what should I see but a loop on my office camera of my son coming into my office over and over again to rummage through my pens. He never leaves, the footage just resets and he comes in, the exact same way every single time.”

“That is odd,” Rox replied evenly, cursing. Of course, the loop was from footage within the last minute. His father always used it when he’d been doing nondescript work for the last minute. Not when he just enters his office. That would be obvious. Still, maybe he could bluff his way through this. “I did come in for a pen earlier. Mine ran out.”

His father raised his eyebrow. “And you had no extra?”

Rox chuckled self deprecatingly. “No, unfortunately. I must have lent them all out and forgotten to get them back during the week. Silly me.”

“Very silly,” Pakeldan agreed with a monotone.

“I actually came over to return the pen.”

Rox approached the desk and handed his father the pen, very aware of how he was holding his breath until his father’s fingers curled around the very ordinary black pen.

Pakeldan looked up from the pen, maintaining eye contact as he put it away. “Well, son, borrowing a pen isn’t a crime. So, you heard nothing? Saw nothing? I believe you are the only one here.”

“No, sorry father. I was absorbed in work. Whoever this was must have been quiet.”

Pakeldan gestured for his son to sit. Rox did, hoping he didn’t sink into the chair opposite his father too quickly. Pakeldan opened his computer and typed in a password. Rox couldn’t even see the keys pressed.

“That’s very unfortunate,” Pakeldan added, “that you saw nothing.” He turned his computer around. “Fortunately the camera just over the elevator did.”

The image on the screen was indeed from a TI security camera. It was a perfect view of Rox plugging something into his father’s computer.

He’d forgotten to close the door the first time he’d come inside. Rox watched himself finish with the flash drive, grab a pen, then walk out of the office before turning left into his own and disappearing from sight.

Pakeldan had it queued up to play over, and over, and over again. Each time, Rox felt more and more blood leave his face.

“I must admit,” Pakeldan said, still infuriatingly casual, “I am astonished. You hired a hacker without my notice.” He grinned, almost proud. “That is impressive, you should be proud of yourself for that. But, Roxeldan,” The grin turned back into that of a jungle cat about to pounce, “you do have a long way to go before you can spy on me without my knowledge.”

Pakeldan shut his laptop. “Now, here's what’s going to happen. You are going to tell Allelosin La’dyliap you’re moving back in with me. I don’t care what reason you give to him, but you will not tell him it’s under my orders. Next, you will drop this foolish investigation you have. I don’t expect you to persuade him to drop it as well, I doubt anyone could, but it would be nice if you tried, okay?”

Rox said nothing and Pakeldan sighed. “I won’t ask where you got your flash drive,” He held it up again, “but you will not pull a stunt like this again. However, for your first attempt gathering intel, not bad, seriously.” He grinned again, all steel and malice. “But next time, Roxeldan, I expect you to do better.” Pakeldan reclined back into his chair. “You are dismissed.”

Roxeldan stood and nodded to his father. He didn’t argue, he knew better. He strode to the door and heard the crunch of plastic and circuitry, Corla’s flash drive smashed. He was grateful his back was to his father; it mostly hid his wince.

The next day, Rox made his way to Kra’s apartment early. Allelosin met his knock. The other man grinned as he held the door open further.

“Hey,” Alle greeted. “Come on in.”

Rox didn’t reply. He could barely meet the reporter’s eyes. The door shut behind him and Allelosin yawned. Rox turned in time to catch him stretching. He was wearing a casual shirt and sweatpants. Rox hadn’t even known Alle owned sweatpants.

Probably a new addition since the fire.

All the clothes were new additions since the fire.

Still, Rox couldn’t deny it wasn’t a bad look on him. His normal clothes–black pants, white button up shirts, black suit-like jackets, nice faux leather shoes–had made him seem dangerous, like his edges would cut you if you approached the wrong way. But this… sweatpants with a rope drawstring and a baggy t-shirt, his coiled hair still a bit of a mess, he looked approachable, soft, someone who’d never ferret out your secrets and use for their own again.

Weak. Rox didn’t like this gentleness. Allelosin had lost his sharp edges; they’d been sanded away to curves as smooth as a sunflower’s petal. All his grit had turned to the softness of a sparrow’s feathers. That was useless to him.

“Coffee?” Allelosin asked, disappearing into the kitchen. “Tea?” There, Los turned on the faucet, readying some water for his own tea. “Anything with caffeine?” he called out. “Astrakael, Rox, it’s early. What are you doing here so early?”

“I just need to talk to you. Is Kra here? Corla?”

“Well,” Los put the water in the microwave, “Kra is out on a walk and Corla is still sleeping. She’s dead to the world, so while I can wake her if you need me to, I’d rather avoid it. Do you need me to get them?” He groaned, grabbing a tea bag. “Kra never answers her phone when she goes out. Honestly, I’d rather deal with Corla than track her down.” He took down a cup. The one labeled ‘World’s Best Reporter.’ It was technically Kra’s, but Los had hijacked it since staying here. “At least with Corla, I just need to jump back once she’s conscious enough to hit me.”

“No, I just need to talk to you.”

Los grabbed his water and started pouring. “Oh great. Take a seat then, I’ll join you in a moment.”

Rox shuffled to the couch and sank down. He took in the room. The bright colors, the plants. He had a nasty feeling he’d never see it again.

He could easily see what came next. He’d give Los his news, then he’d be kicked out. They’d be so angry they’d never want to see him again.

Oh, well, that was what happened when you failed.

Allelosin approached with a mug and sat opposite to him. “So, what’s going on?”

Roxeldan focused on the wooden table. He took a deep breath. “I… I went to TI yesterday, but the flash drive couldn’t do it. It couldn’t hack him.”

Alle nodded, infuriatingly pretending to be understanding. “Okay, so give it back to me and Corla can try again. It’ll have something on it so she can improve. We’ll try again.”

“I… um…. I don’t have it. I threw it in anger and it’s permanently damaged. Crushed actually.”

“Crushed?” Alle’s skepticism began showing.

“Crushed,” Rox confirmed.

“Alright. We’ll figure out something. I’ll talk to Corla tonight and if you come over tomorrow, we can talk strategy.”

“Alle,” Rox looked up, “I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep doing any of it.”

“What?” Allelosin sputtered out, only barely managing to swallow his tea before spitting it out onto Rox’s face. “Why?”

“It’s my father, Alle, he just…” Rox threw his hands into the air. “He can’t be beaten. No matter what we try, we’re going to fail and I can’t put up attempt after attempt, just hoping he won’t catch me and throw me in jail.”

“Roxeldan, your dad is human. He’s not an omniscient supercomputer, and don’t repeat that in front of him. He doesn’t need more bad ideas.”

Despite himself, Rox’s lip quirked upwards. “Sure. He’ll never hear it.” It was an easy promise.

“But the point is, investigative journalism is a long process. It can take years. We failed here, so we won't give up. We keep going and trying no matter how long it takes until he slips up, then we get him. He’s only human, he will slip up. We stop trying and he’s won. He gets away with it. Don’t you want to bring his crimes to light?”

“Of course I want to Alle! But your methods don’t work. He’s too big, too powerful to be taken down. And if you were smart, you’d realize that.”

“There’s no other way, Rox.”

“Then whatever my dad is, he’s not human. We can’t treat him like- oh whatever, I’m done, okay? I’m just done with all of this.”

Allelosin blinked then nodded. “Okay, Rox.” He grinned, seeming friendly. “I’ll convince you, you know, to rejoin the crusade.”

“I really doubt it.”

Rox reached into his pocket and took out the slip of a check in there. He placed it on the table. Alle’s eyes went from the check, to him, to the check, then back to him again.

Voice low and measured, Allelosin asked, “What is this?”

“I’m not going to room with you anymore. I’m getting my own place. It’s time. This,” He gestured to the check, which Alle regarded as if it was going to bite him, “should be precisely what every bit of furniture in the apartment was worth at the time of the fire. It should be an adequate assistance in buying new furniture for your new one.”

Once again, Allelosin’s eyes darted between the slip of paper Rox knew he should just pick up and accept, and Rox’s blue eyes.

“Are you serious?” he finally said.

“Completely,” Rox assured him. And since Alle looked like he wasn’t about to start talking any time within the next hour, Rox stood, nodded to Allelosin, said, “Good day, then,” and left the apartment.

When Kra came back from her walk, she found Los still there, still staring.

“Los?” she called, relieved to see him stir slightly. That ruled out him being turned into a living statue. “What are you doing?”

“Oh,” he replied absentmindedly. “Nothing.”

Kra sat down next to him and nudged his knee with hers. He tossed her his ‘I’m not actually annoyed at you, but I am Allelosin La’dyliap so I must appear annoyed’ look. Her eyes snagged on the check in front of him.

“Los, what’s that?”

It took some coaxing, but he slowly relayed the story, all of it. And then, Los was off, ranting, “I mean who does he think he is? Doesn’t he know quitting means that Thuelar will have more time to harm vulnerable people and those people can’t just wait for him to up and die? Honestly.”

“You’ll figure it out. You’re one of the smartest people I know.”

He sighed. “But Thuelar Incorporated was like a fortress. Two years investigating and my only contact is Rox. I’ve gone through everything public a million times, looking for any discrepancy and there isn’t one! It’s too good! I needed Rox. He was my inside man, and now what? I’ve got nothing.”

“Los, that’s bullshit.”

He rounded on her. “Did you just swear?”

She raised her eyebrows. “I swear. Just not often. Anyway, back to my original point, you do not have nothing. You have the Ghost. Once we take care of whatever it is Thuelar has brewing right now, I am sure she will be plenty willing to help.

“What’s more, Rox is likely just frustrated from no results. We’ll talk to him next Zaday and he’ll be more willing to listen to reason once he’s had some time to calm down. Okay?”

Los took a breath and nodded. “Okay.”

Kra beamed. “You are not out of options, blazing-heart. You never are.”

“Thanks, sunflower,” he replied, grinning right back.

Next Zaday, when Zraytena turned up for dinner without Rox in tow, Allelosin knew something was wrong. When she started asking about the new apartment, how it was treating both of them, and making slightly passive aggressive comments about how they could have let her plan a party for it, he knew something was really wrong.

“Zrayt,” Los interrupted, “I haven’t moved in yet. And Rox isn’t going to be my roommate.”

“Then why did he move out of my apartment?” she asked, confused.

He shrugged. “No idea. He did mention something about getting a solo apartment last time we spoke about it.” Which had been the last time they’d spoken. Rox had gone strangely silent this week. Not that they texted often, but still, weird. He usually asked what Kra was planning for dinner before coming.

“And where is he?” Corla inquired groggily, looking around as if he might be hiding behind a sofa. “He should be here by now.”

“I’ll text him,” Los offered.

Twenty-five minutes passed and he received no answer. Los kept trying, again and again. He tried to call, but Rox didn’t answer. It had gone from odd to worrying to panic inducing, especially after Zrayt’s calls and texts went unread as well.

“Kra!” Zrayt yelled. “Can you call him? He always answers for you.”

“Yeah sure!” she yelled back, taking the lasagna out of the oven. “One sec!” She put it on a cooling rack and slipped off her mittens before slipping her phone out of her pocket. She signed in, but before she could text or dial, her eyes snagged on a notification. “Oh no.”

Los, Zrayt, and Corla were piling into the kitchen before she could properly click on the article.

“What happened to Rox? Is he alright?” Zrayt demanded.

“It’s not Rox,” Kra replied, scanning the Dip article. She looked up and said, “It’s Sava Shipping.” The stupid company that ran half the private shipping in Emlytos, whose workers had been picking a new city to strike in every month since the previous summer. “A new city is on strike. Ours.”

Los sighed. “Kra, that’s not an ‘oh no.’ That’s an ‘oh fuck my fucking life.’”

Most of the shipping down in a city that didn’t just rely on it, but wasn’t far from slipping into utter chaos? She really couldn't help agreeing.

Sagely, Kra replied, “Oh fuck my fucking life.”