Chapter Eight: The Stench of Death
CHAPTER EIGHT: THE STENCH OF DEATH
It was a dark plane, seemingly without time or space. Augury and Rex stood facing each other.
"Is this a dream?"
"Of course it is," said Augury. "Sit down."
At that moment, Rex fell to the ground. Even in this dream, Augury controlled all. Despite the fact that this was all happening in Rex's subconscious, he was totally at the mercy of this man hundreds of miles away. This was the scope of Augury's power.
"I saw what you did." Augury was infuriated, and this struck genuine terror into Rex. For Augury felt no mild emotions, only extremes. He had three modes: ecstatic, distant, and hopelessly enraged. "Why, Rex, why? Not like I don't already know."
The entire day flicked past Rex in the space of a second. He hated when Augury did that. There was no pain, but it was terrifying. As it happened, you felt insane.
"The torture of Bevan Emerit was not what I sent you there for. You are his guardian, not his boss."
"He doesn't deserve free will," said Rex through gritted teeth. "You have to earn it."
"Your definition of deserving anything is being of a higher social status than yourself, you arrogant bastard. One derives power from their subordinates, not their superiors!"
Rex simply stared at Augury, arrogant scepticism in his eyes.
"But of course, Rex. You don't learn. You're determined to make the lives of those in your power miserable. It's insecure and it's pathetic. There will be no more torturing either Emerit or Appleby."
"Yes, my Lord. I apologise."
"Not sincerely," said Augury scathingly. "But, nevertheless, there is a new development." He inhaled deeply, and his voice became calmer. "Charlotte Appleby is hiding something. Something dangerous. Chances are it's a secret of one of her old trainer's friends, but it hits me close to home. Somehow."
"I'll dispose of her at once, my Lord."
"You lack perception. Killing her will not kill the source – she only bears a vague secret. Appleby is terrified of you while she has something to lose. If you take her, she will not talk. You must be subtle, Rex. No open torture."
"Yes, Lord Augury."
"One more thing, Rex. Should you ever commit as grave an error as the one you just did… the Moonlight Squad will slice you in two."
"Sir – I think you should see this."
Sitting at a desk was a lanky man with auburn hair. The room was lavish and exotic, with many scientific mysteries and experiments on display. Behind him, his qualifications covered the wall. Readjusting his glasses, he asked, "What is it?" As always, Simon Gordon's voice had an air of superiority to it.
"Dr. Brown is… dead."
The Brain stood up. "What? Take me to him." His voice seemed to tremble a little bit, despite the fact that he was giving orders.
The security officer strode through a few corridors, Simon briskly following. Eventually, they came to an open utility closet with two police officers and several orange cones surrounding it.
Horrified, Simon mouthed a few things to himself. There was his childhood friend, his throat sliced violently, lying in front of him.
"Mr. Gordon." One of the police-officers approached him, wearing the standard black, padded uniform. He handed him an envelope, addressed to
the Brain of the Oligarchy.
"Ah, Simon. Was the death of your sister not enough? The blood that must be shed to protect your secret is terrible, wouldn't you agree? Perhaps you'd like to tell me the secrets of He who is Merely a Rumour?
"If not, more of your friends will die. And then, out of fear, you will flee, like you always do when a problem becomes too great. And, at that point, Augury will send his Moonlight Squad to execute you. I hope you don't mind the thought of dying alone due to the stroke of a pen by the one that you have sworn absolute dedication to.
"Sincerely,
Dagger"
Simon pocketed it. "Sir, we'll need to use that as evidence."
The Brain turned to the police officer, sneering viciously. "No you don't. This was a Dagger attack. He doesn't leave fingerprints on the letters. The sooner you hand this over to the Cloaks, the quicker this will be solved."
It wasn't because the letter would cast suspicion upon him – the fact that this was a Dagger attack would be discovered soon, anyway. The Oligarchs all knew about the resurfacing rumour of Lord Augury. So far, it was confined to these six individuals, but Simon knew that it would spread. Just like last time. He simply wanted this taunt to be private, unlike the last letter, which was circulated around his peers.
"Do you have reason to hide that letter? Guilt, perhaps?" Samantha Lincoln, escorted by two Cloaks, was standing behind him.
"Oh, what a surprise. There's death and a vulture arrives. Have you come to pick at the flesh?"
"Hand me the letter, Simon," said Samantha, a look of shock and hurt on her face. She kept up her caring façade, even toward other Oligarchs.
"You know perfectly well what it is. Your thirst for information is trumped by my friend's right to dignity in death."
"No, Simon." She lowered her voice. "This is precisely what he wants, and why I came here. If we start keeping secrets from one another, Dagger wins. Harmony loses. It's hard, I know, dear, but we're dealing with the stability of our country, here."
Gordon reached into his pocket and reluctantly handed the letter over. Not because he wanted to, but because he wanted to avoid the other Oligarchs forcing him to hand it over. "It's disgusting what some people will do over a rumour," said Samantha distantly.
Simon looked away. He had considered himself independent a week ago, someone who needed nobody. But with these murders, he was beginning to realise just how fragile he was. Even he needed people.
"We'll find him, you know," said Samantha, feigning empathy skillfully. "What can one man do?"
"I heard a tale, once," said Simon, turning away coldly. "I don't know whether or not it's true. Apparently one of Susan Adams's advisors asked the same question. The next week, he didn't show up to their meeting. She remarked, 'As you know, the empty seat was occupied by someone who asked what one man can do. He found out yesterday.'"
"Lord Augury, you wished to see me?"
It was the middle of the night, and a repulsively corpulent, sweaty man stood in a dark room before Lord Augury. He was a petty and contemptible man, and, above all, a bureaucrat. Most notably, he was the Nose of the Oligarchy, in charge of the military and open police.
"The stench of death runs rampant in the air, doesn't it?"
"Y-yes, Lord Augury."
"As you will have been notified of, another Dagger attack happened, this time on the friend of the Brain."
"What shall we do, my Lord?" His voice was frantic, almost hysterical. "It's only a while until he'll discover that I'm the one you employ."
"I suspect he already knows."
"Then why?"
"Because even Dagger can smell your fear, probably."
"I- I don't understand."
"You fear the death of your family and friends. You are visibly terrified. Even in public. You are no longer of any use to me."
"M-My Lord… I'm a bit shaken, b-but, I'm still an Oligarch! It won't be easy to regain that p-power."
"That's where you're wrong. You Oligarchs, for all your arrogance, can't even see what's right in front of you.
Every single Oligarch is under my control."
"Y-you're b-bluffing…"
"No, Francis. I'm not. The entire Oligarchy is merely an illusion: the word itself means rule by the few. This is not rule by the few. This is rule by the one. By me. Wake up, Francis.
This is an autocracy."
"Y-you're going t-to kill me, aren't you?"
"Yes. Don't forget, I have the power of telepathy. I know when someone is on the verge of cracking. And I'd rather it be your spine that cracks than your words."
Francis reached for a Pokéball at his belt, but Augury just laughed. "You're no match for me; you only have those Pokémon for show. Put up a fight, and I'll execute you more brutally than the Moonlight Squad would."
"M-my Lord… please, I can change-"
His begging words were cut short by the sound of his head turning three-hundred and sixty degrees. "Come out from the shadows, Gareth."
A very white faced, but bulky man stepped forward into the light of the crackling fire. "S-so much… power…"
"Yes, Gareth. And, as you just saw, my political and psychic powers are intertwined and inseparable."
"So… you'll make me the new Nose, if I agree to work for you?"
"Of course. And you'll be in a unique position: you'll be the only Oligarch who knows that I'm controlling the others. It was this secrecy that allowed me to rise to power amidst all this arrogance and self-importance. And now, ironically, it is this secrecy that is tearing my reign apart.
"As the Oligarchs expire, their uses ending, I will replace them with people like you, who know my true political nature. And then, I will restructure Torcra, so that I am not
He who is Merely a Rumour. I will rule. The autocrat."
Gareth simply stared at this man, astonished at his thirst for power and ability to attain it.
"Now, you have two choices. The first is to walk out of here alive, as my loyal employee. And the secret succession file will be opened, which will indicate you as the successor. The other is to die."
"O-of course, the former."
"Good. You will address me as 'Lord Augury', or simply 'my Lord'. You will not discuss me to anyone, unless I have sent them. You'll know who to trust after a while, but until then, if someone claims to be working for me, the seal will tell you."
Lord Augury opened his hand, and a small, black plate with an elaborate, twisting pattern embossed on it flew from the corpse's pocket. Augury twisted it in his hand, it glowing an eerie purple, fading slightly, and then glowing again.
Handing it to Gareth, he continued. "Ask if they work for Lord Augury. If they do, they'll reveal my seal. The seal will glow like you just saw, if held by anyone who the seal was not intended for."
"A glow? Why not put something dangerous in it, my Lord?"
"Because it is very difficult to instill that kind of power in objects, even for someone with my power. In any case, it will act as a warning to you. Please sit down, Gareth. I'd like you to tell me about yourself. Fully. Your past, your embarrassing moments, your dreams, your deepest fears."
"Why, my Lord?"
"The best way for me to be able to protect someone is to have formed a strong connection with them. The easiest way to form a strong connection is a heart-to-heart conversation. Anyone can tell you that." The words
heart-to-heart conversation seemed very out of place for Lord Augury. Especially in his terrifying, inhuman voice.
At that moment, two people in black cloaks and white, flat masks, strode into the room silently. Had it not been for the opening door causing light to escape into this dark room, Gareth might not have noticed. They walked to the corpse, and without acknowledging either Gareth or Augury, took the body away.
"And, my Lord, should I ever become... obsolete?"
Augury, already taking a seat, chuckled quietly to himself. "You'll retire comfortably into obscurity."
Looking at the body of his former boss being carried out by these silent, faceless people, he wondered whether that would really be the case.
