Eddy Linie’beck

Just over one year later 20th of Thraous 11:25 A.M.

                “Martha Ethel, the woman who along with ex-governor Allan Ethel allegedly killed her husband, Matthew Latheil after he had discovered that she was allegedly having an affair with Danny Borind, her son’s friend. Martha Ethel’s series of trials are about to begin in the Mids District court, while Allan Ethel is being brought to the Nexus District to stand trial before Lord Governor Adam Philip Serkin.” The news woman droned on and on talking about the sensational news that the Governor and his sister had committed murder on the television in Rick’s small, dark, dusty apartment. He had dozed off while trying to finish all the paperwork on the Mike Ethel case that he needed to get to the station in the morning. It was about a week past the deadline and the Chief was getting impatient. “As part of Martha’s sentence, she is required to pay the rest of the money she had agreed to give Detective Rick Arthur Estle.” Well, that was good news, he was in desperate need of money. Part of the reason he had been late finishing his paperwork was that he had agreed to try and find a lady’s cat for 2 G, that “two-hour case” had turned into a two-day case.

                Rick flexed his hand cracking knuckles before picking up his pencil and finishing his summary of the recordings he had taken during his time investigating. “On a lighter subject Mr. Kite’s Circus is coming out of the off season and will be setting up in Mr. Kite’s fairgrounds. They will have both new inventive attractions as well as old favorites, which I for one cannot wait to exp-” he shut the television off with the click of a button before bending back over his paperwork.

                As the Guardian’s light lit the windows of Rick’s apartment with a calm cool yellow, he finished the paperwork with a final period finishing. With a sigh of relief, he slid the papers into a leather bag, poured himself some Seffalon Rum, and attempted to brush out the wrinkles in his clothes with his hands which soon proved fruitless. Moving towards the door, he sees the Guardian’s glow begin to darken, a howl splits the air as wind screamed off the ocean, shutters begin to slam and doors not fully closed swing wildly. He looked towards the drawer that contained his and Alice’s gold Guardian pendants he then turned and stepped into the hall way.

He walked slowly; shoulder bowed as he moved down to the exit. He did not bother with grabbing an umbrella, when storms came off the Upper Sea, they came with such a ferocity that nothing you could do short of an airtight rain suit would keep you from getting wet. Stepping outside the normally white sky had turned black and tumultuous as if massive snakes writhed beneath a black sheet, the wind buffeted him to the point that it took every muscle in his body to walk. The streets were desolate, most people were hiding inside because when the Guardian was hidden, the demons were said to be at play. Those that were out were openly carrying pendants with the Guardian’s symbol, a circle with two spears piercing it, praying for their lives. Rick received a few quick looks, and some of the people avoided, self-conscious he touched his empty wrist, the place Alice had always worn hers.

                From the shelter of an overhang to another apartment building someone began a slow beat on a bass drum and began singing a child’s little rhyme:

Fear not child

The Guardian is here.

Look above!

The Guardian is here.

Do not cry.

The Guardian is here.

We are protected when.

The Guardian is here.

Fear my child!

When the Guardian hides

Demons Dance

When the Guardian hides

Stay inside!

When the Guardian hides

Evil may befall us.

When the Guardian hides.

                With the final flurry of notes from the drum finished echoing through the too still city fat raindrops began to ride the wind sideways off the ocean down river and between buildings, Rick put his head down, shoving him from behind causing him to stumble. His coat was buffeted left and right as though someone had a hold of it and was trying to drag him to and fro, and the wind whistled in a monotonous, monotone scream in his ears. Slowly Rick began to hear a voice over the whistling. “Rick!” It was a high-pitched whiney voice. “Rick! Thank Nexan I caught you!”

                Rick looked at the man and his mood immediately soured. Bright blue dyed hair, a pink shirt and a purple dri’dell, a traditional skirt for men on the Seffalon Isles. He was also very round with a square head. He had a pendant of the Guardian as well as a Red and white striped Tiger, the symbol for Mr. Kite’s circus, hanging from his neck. “Over here!” Rick yelled pulling the gaudy man into a small shop whose sign read Hoid’s Haberdashery, filled with various inauthentic, ‘exotic,’ headwear. The white haired owner lay prostrate on a green and black rug facing The Nexus, pendant clutched in hand. “Seffalonese?” Rick whispered so the prostrate man wouldn’t hear, motioning at the sopping wet blue haired foreigner.

“Uh, yes sir, my parents fled when I was young.”

“so you people do not worship, Sar’tchan?”

“Many do.” He glanced at the prostrate man before trying to lower his voice further, “Often it is not safe to openly worship something other than Nextian and the Guardian. The Special Guard took my parents for heresy, and I do not wish to follow their fate.

Rick took a drink from his flask. “I am sorry to hear that. I would have expected the Government to give special protection to refugees,” Rick looked out the window, “Though I suppose I’ve never witnessed my government be so gracious.” He turned back and focused his eyes on the gaudy man. “Anyway, what is it that you wanted?”

“Why do you not wear the pendant, especially in this weather?”

“That’s why you were yelling at me?”

“No, no, I have official business from Mr. Kite, but I indulged your curiosity, so I just ask you do the same for me.”

“I… I still believe in the God above and the God below, I simply do not wish for their, or specifically his,” he points upwards, “protection.”

“Why?”

“I indulged as much as you I believe, get on with the official circus business.”

                “Fine, fine, fine, as I said Mr. Kite sent me…"

                “Right.” Rick nodded.

                “…Eddy Linie’beck I am the gray man caretaker. And I may have had one escape.”

                “A gray man?” Rick reached up to his eye piece to begin recording the conversation an inexplicable jolt of joy passed through himself as he remembered being elated watching the handlers act daringly towards the gray men risking life and limb. Yet simultaneously, he felt repulsion and hatred for the treatment of the soulless husks.

                “…be necessary, we will be paying extra money for no police eyes.”

                “What will be necessary?”

                “Won’t be necessary, recording won’t be necessary. Are you ok? I had heard some mentions of your mental state…”

                “I am fine.” Rick growled out, “but I…I do not want the money, they are dangerous and an abomination, go to the police I do not want your money.”

                “Are you technically on the Job, right now?”

                “I am.”

                “Then why did you take a sip from your flask a minute ago, I doubt the contents are just nice, nutritious water.”

                “What is your point?”

                “The police know you drink on the Job, but they ignore it for now, most likely your friend is protecting you. But if an official complaint were to be lodged against you, they would be forced to act, something I am sure Chief Pierson would have no issue doing.”

                Rick rubbed his temple “Fine, I will find your missing Gray Man and not involve the police.”

                “First you must meet with Mr. Kite and get the rest of the details.”

                “I will be by after dropping off the Paperwork.”

                Eddy smiled, “Then I will see you later.” Turning, he shoved open the door and plunged into the raging storm.

                With a groan and a glance at the still prostrate figure Rick shoved his way out the door and continued the trek to the station.

                After what felt like an eternity, struggling through the storm he came to the beige metal doors to the police department, that he shoved open with his shoulder. On the inside the station had an unfriendly cast, dull brown carpet, painted white cinderblock walls, and cheap, mass manufactured furniture made from faux wood, cheap metal, and cloudy glass. In front of him sat a long table, with a receptionist who looked like she was in the middle of sucking a lemon. He smiled at her, “I’m here to drop off my paperwork for the Ethel case.”

                “Mhm…” her fingers clacked annoyingly against the Data Hub Monitor. “You are late, step into the Chief’s office.”

                Rick groaned, he had never been the most well liked when he had been on the force, his single minded drive to catch criminals and make sure they were prosecuted to the full extent of the law made him a bit of an outcast, in that most joined due to better pay than most other jobs, and a bit of a bully complex, fortunately when he was paired with Brick they actually got along, even if Brick wanted to do things the easy way more often. As he walked through the communal area the police either ignored him or glowered at him. The one relief came when…

                “Hey!” a voice boomed from across the room, looking up Rick saw Brick just exiting the Chief’s office. “It’s about time man!” Brick ran up while he was in the process of clipping his badge to his uniform. “The chief is so hot under the collar I could probably cook an egg on his face.”

                Rick laughed nervously, “as long as my detective license isn’t revoked, I should be fine.”

                “My man,” Brick slapped him on the back, “I interceded for you, he may be mad, but he knows an asset when he sees one.”

                “Thank you, sincerely.”

                “You are welcome sincerely. Well wish me luck, got a new kid going on patrol with me, hopefully I won’t need to be arrested for murder by days end.”

                “Well, don’t do that, this department does not need to lose their best officer.”

With a nod of the head Brick said “don’t forget about this evening when I go on break”

“I won’t” Rick promised before turning towards the Chief’s door. Steeling his nerves, he pushed the door into Chief Pierson’s office. A simple office, a few books, on real wood shelves and a few medals, one from the Lord Chief of Police and another from the Lord Governor rested in places of prominence. The Chief had his back to Rick, staring out the window white with rain. Quietly Rick laid the papers on the Chief’s desk the stepped back.

                “Do you know what our job is?” the chief asked, not turning.

                “To serve and protect.”

                “No, to uphold the government, and by extension the faith.” He turned in his chair. “The Lord Governor called me, the very one who awarded me that metal for outstanding service towards Nextian himself. To ask me why we arrested Governor Ethel, the man I report too, and the man directly under the Lord Governor himself. I was forced to explain your meddling, and by the grace of the Lord Below, he is understanding, I was asked to step down so that my son cannot take my place. Now the Lord Governor can elect someone of their choosing. This is a mess, we had a good deal with the local Governor, we looked the other way, he slipped us extra funds meant for other projects. But with his acceptance of bribery revealed, to do nothing would ruin public perception. Now The Lord Governor will be hand picking a new Governor and the Lord Chief a new Chief, this district, which has managed to stay under the radar of the Nexus District will now be receiving their full attention.”

                “I cannot say I am sorry, without rules there would be anarchy.”

                “The High Priest and all those below him are embodiments of law, are embodiments of rules, Governor Ethel may have been far below, but he still held that power.” He picked up the legal papers Rick had brought, threw them in a solid metal trash can then threw a match in after. “We must work damage control to keep public opinion of the one true religion up, so the secretary, Sandy, has taken your information and typed up a slightly altered version one with the Governor being a secret heretic, in fact, the technology we have has gotten so advanced we can change the content of the videos, the faces people are making, and the words they are making to such an advanced degree no one can tell. With this incriminating evidence the Special Guard is sure to intervene and insure he and perhaps his family never see the light of day.”

                Rick balled his hands into fist, “Why do you tell me this?”

                The Chief leaned forward, “I want you to know that I am letting you play detective. So, stay in your lane. Find lost cats, arrest druggies, prostitutes, heretics, and anyone not agents of Nextian and the Church. You are dismissed.”

                “But…”

                “Dismissed.”

                Rick, knowing his face was a storm of emotion he marched out of the precinct.