Creyson Parthy & The Trojan Attack by Richard Bailey


  Chapter Three

  ‘The Offer’

  I swung the door open with a smile, ready to welcome whoever had knocked so sturdily. My smile vanished, and I stood flabbergasted staring at Minister Drake.

  With the exception of my grandfather, I had no ties to the government, or any high power organisation for that matter, so the last thing I expected to find when I answered my front door was the High Darlon Council’s Public Representative staring back at me.

  “Good morning,” Minster Drake said in a slow, drawling tone. “Is this the unit of Talsen Trent?”

  “Yes. No. It was. Sorry. He passed away a phase ago. I live here now.” My initial thought was ‘This is it. Pack your bags they’re kicking you out.’ I was almost certain he’d come to order me to vacate the unit.

  “So you’re Talsen Trent’s grandson, Creyson Parthy?”

  “Erm, yes?” I sounded like I was asking a question rather than answering one.

  “Excellent,” was his delighted response. “I’m Minister Drake, Public Representative for the High Darlon Council.”

  Drake was tall and lean. He carried himself with an air of self-confidence, almost an arrogant superiority that is often unseen in Valirons. His mustard coloured suit was crisp and immaculate, but it hung off his slender frame making the tailored outfit look slightly scruffy. His features were sharp and pointed, and his skin almost grey. His dull granite face appeared so stern I doubted he was even capable of a smile. But it was far more than just the Minister’s appearance that made him stand out in a crowd. His voice, in my opinion, sounded... odd. Drake spoke like a Valiron attempting to sound like a native, as if he were acting out a role and the script was foreign to him. Every word that escaped his mouth seemed peculiar; only subtle things, a slight mispronunciation here, the wrong intonation there; and I’m almost certain I saw concentration in Drake’s face when he spoke. Why someone so different from the masses would be assigned the position of Public Representative was beyond me.

  In comparison, I was your average Valiron. Standing at just under a metre and a half in height with straight, dark brown hair that flopped over my forehead; round, plump features; a reddish glow to my skin; a stocky frame that filled the clothes I wore; and a cheery smile that was practically a permanent feature. Always ready to apologies; assured but never conceited. All of this made me a typical depiction of my people.

  “I do hope this isn’t a bad time?”

  “Actually, I was just getting ready to watch…” I stopped. You don’t tell a member of the council you’re too busy to speak. “No sir, not a bad time at all.”

  “Good.”

  This was followed by an awkward silence. We both stood unmoving for what felt like an eternity, but I’m sure in reality was only a few seconds.

  This was the first time I’d met Minister Drake in person, and I was taken aback by his daunting appearance. I always knew the Public Representative was tall, but I wasn’t prepared for him to be a giant. He was an imposing figure standing at nearly two metres, possibly taller. Although I’d seen him on the viewing terminal, nothing could have prepared me for the genuine article.

  Thankfully, Minster Drake broke the silence. “May I come inside?”

  I kicked myself for not having invited the Minister into my home. It was a terrible lack of courtesy, and I was mortified by my tardy hospitality.

  “Oh, erm... Of course, yes.” I stammered, attempting to hide my embarrassment. “I’m sorry, but I’m... I’m a little surprised, sir... Not in a bad way, just well... surprised.” I needed to shut up. “Please, won’t you come in?” My face was more than a red glow by now. I moved to one side and gestured the Minster to enter.

  “Mind your head.” Even as the words escaped my mouth, I regretted them.

  Drake frowned. “Thank you for the advice.”

  Having limitations was one thing, pointing them out was rude; my second mistake. No doubt the Minister was well aware of his shortcomings. Forgive the pun. My ceilings weren’t especially low; in fact, they were a standard height, but at that moment my unit felt like a toy house. I wondered how many times the Minister had heard the phrase ‘Mind your head’.

  Drake ducked under the doorway, which led straight into the living area.

  “You have a delightful home.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “Very… tidy.”

  “I just cleaned.” I didn’t know why I told him that.

  Although there was adequate head room for any normal Valiron, Minster Drake remained slightly hunched to prevent his head brushing against the ceiling. I observed the Minister’s rather uncomfortable posture.

  “Would you care to sit down?” I asked, motioning to a snug chair loaded with grey and white pillows. I wasn’t entirely sure he was going to fit.

  Minster Drake was clearly relieved by the offer. Throwing the cushions to the floor, he squeezed himself into the tiny seat. It was almost comical.

  “Thank you, Mr Parthy.”

  I forced a ‘you’re welcome’ smile and then took a seat opposite the Public Representative.

  As I stared at him, my dreaded imagination sprang to life. What if he wasn’t Valiron? But if he wasn’t Valiron then what was he? Who was he? Perhaps he was sent to infiltrate the government, or perhaps he was created in a lab in an experiment to test the boundaries of genetics. I snapped out of my imaginary landscape and I scolded myself for having such ridiculous notions. My people are logical and rarely give in to whimsical thoughts. My imagination had landed me in several sticky situations in the past. Overtime, I’d learned to subdue my inventive mind and blend into society, but Minister Drake was unable to hide his differences. I sympathised with him; going through life knowing he looked and spoke so differently from everyone else must have been difficult.

  “Mr Parthy?” the Minster asked, visibly concerned.

  “Sorry?”

  “You were staring.”

  “I am? I mean, I was?”

  “Is something wrong?”

  I recovered quickly. “No. Nothing at all. Drink? As in, would you care for one? The kettle’s just boiled.”

  The Minister seemed to deliberate the question in his mind before answering.

  “No, thank you.”

  “Okay,” I said, grabbing my mug and taking a quick gulp of my own lukewarm beverage.

  There was yet another awkward silence, but this time it was broken by an all too familiar sound.

  A roaring blast vibrated through the unit. I’d heard the sound thousands of times before, but I was already tense in present company; I almost jumped out of my skin. The Trojan Device had activated as it did six times a day, every day; regular as clockwork.

  The deafening clatter and vibration was a combination of thousands of Trojan Devices the length and breadth of Valiros activating at the same time.

  My heart began to pump faster. Most people had learned to ignore the disturbing racket that literally caused the floor to tremble beneath their feet, but I felt different. The sound resembled a heavy piece of machinery being forcibly dragged across the roof of my home, and the tremors felt as if they were capable of ripping our little world apart.

  One of the problems with having an active imagination is it sometimes takes you to a dark place of fear and panic. When I was small these events had terrified me, and my mother often found me hiding under the bed or cowering in a corner. She explained that the Trojans couldn’t hurt me, but it was difficult to believe her when it felt as if our unit was falling down around our ears.

  “They keep us safe,” my mother once told me “That’s all you need to know.”

  After less than twenty seconds, the devices deactivated, and the unit was plunged back into the previous awkward silence. I wasn’t sure which state I preferred.

  “Are you well Mr Parthy?” asked the Minister with yet more genuine concern.

  “Yes, erm... of course. Fine,” I babbled, not wanting to appear childish; after all, I was pr
actically entering adulthood at almost two cycles old.

  Drake continued to stare with an expression of worry; he was unconvinced by my assertion. I obviously looked as nervous as I felt.

  “Do the Trojans make you nervous?”

  “You’d think I’d be used to it by now.” I quickly changed the topic. “Sir, I don’t wish to sound rude but... why are you here?”

  The Minister processed my words before answering. “I was an acquaintance of your grandfather. Shortly before his passing he mentioned you.”

  The Minister shuffled in his seat, noticeably uncomfortable in a chair that was far too small.

  “Did you know him well, sir?”

  “He worked in my office. Over the cycles I had the honour of having many late night conversations with him.”

  I was still grieving my grandfather’s passing and revelled in the opportunity to talk about him.

  “Were you close?”

  “Work colleagues more than friends. And you?”

  “After my mother… disappeared, my grandfather took me under his wing. He taught me the ways of the world, encouraged my imagination. He never said much about his work, but I’m surprised he never mentioned knowing the Public Representative personally.” I realised how offensive that statement sounded. “Not to say you weren’t important to him, sir, I’m sure you were. It was probably just...”

  “It’s quite alright, Mr Parthy. I would have been more concerned if your grandfather had mentioned me.” I found his statement puzzling. Why would my grandfather have needed to hide his work associations?

  The Minister continued. “His loss came as a great blow to us all. His illness was incredibly sudden.”

  “It was, sir.”

  “We were extremely unprepared, and we have yet to fill his position.”

  I wasn’t sure why, but my stomach turned.

  “Which leads me to the purpose of my visit. After several lengthy discussions with the High Darlon Council, we arrived at the conclusion that the best replacement for your grandfather would be you.”

  My stomach no longer turned instead it was flipping over.

  “Me?”

  “Yes. Officially, you would be listed as my personal aid.”

  The word ‘officially’ was disturbing. I couldn’t help but wonder what my unofficial title would be.

  Mr Tide’s words rang in my head ‘Know your limitations.’ Did I want to leave my current job? I didn’t even know what being a personal aid entailed. I had to think quickly; the last thing any Valiron wanted to do was upset the High Darlon Council.

  “Thank you very much for the offer sir, but I already have a job with Clint and Tide, the law firm.”

  “Yes, we know,” uttered Drake, more to himself than to me. “We have already spoken to your employer, a Mr Tide, and he has agreed to terminate your employment, with immediate effect.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Is that a problem?”

  “It’s just…” I didn’t know what to say.

  Decisions were being made without my consent. This was my life; surely it should be my choice where I work. I wasn’t sure if I should have been flattered or offended. Was I so expendable to ‘Clint and Tide’, or had the High Darlon Council applied some undue pressure on the aging lawyer? This encounter was getting odder and odder. I pondered if it were possible my grandfather played some larger role within Valiros, more than I’d ever conceived.

  I felt the Minister’s eyes bearing down on me as he waited, eager for my answer. This was all too much. I needed to buy some time; consider the offer.

  “Can I have a few days to think about it?” I asked as tactfully as possible.

  “No.” The response was quick and concise, knocking me off balance. That single word seemed to convey an array of emotions, one of which I determined to be desperation. It swiftly occurred to me that this impromptu visit was merely a formality. I was in no position to refuse the offer as the decision had already been made.

  Minister Drake spoke again, only softer this time. “I’m sorry to be so blunt Mr Parthy, but it’s vital that we fill this position as quickly as possible. I need an answer now.”

  There was little I could say. I’d been backed into a corner with no hope of escape. He wasn’t asking, he was telling. I accepted my plight.

  “Of course sir, it would be an honour to work for the High Darlon Council.”

  “Good. Splendid.”

  There was a noticeable change in the Minister’s face. No longer appearing desperate, instead he seemed...relieved. But there was more to his expression, I sensed a hidden agenda disguised behind an unattractive attempt at a smile.

  “When would I start?”

  The Minister squeezed himself out of the chair with considerable effort. Once again I was astounded by his height.

  “Meet me at first light tomorrow morning outside the High Darlon Council building.”

  “Tomorrow? Yes sir.” I replied with less eagerness than I intended.

  The Minister smiled again. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but there was definitely a hint of deception behind that harmless grin.

  “Excellent,” Drake responded enthusiastically. “Thank you for your hospitality.”

  He began to leave but stopped and turned back to me.

  “Oh, there is one more thing, Mr Parthy. You were there, at the medical unit when your grandfather passed, correct?”

  “Yes sir.”

  “Did he say anything?”

  My mind drifted back to that dark day and my grandfather’s final words ‘Trust no-one. He’ll try to be your friend, mislead you, but his only alliance is to the darkness.’

  “No.” I lied. “Nothing.”

  “Right. Then I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Good-bye, sir.”

  And without another word, Minister Drake strolled quickly out of the unit.

  As I watched the towering figure leave my home something caught my eye. A glint highlighted by the lights above; a shiny little sparkle off a device in Minister Drake’s ear.

  I closed the door behind him with a sense of relief. This feeling was rapidly sucked out of me the moment I realised I would have to tell Zeal.

 
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