Episode 047

                “Well, I’ve found complaining about it really helps.”
                                Scud, Scud: The Disposable Assassin

                Aaron leaned against the elevator walls, his eyes closed. His watched showed half past eleven if he even bothered to look at the metal band at his wrist. But as he leaned against the wall, he breathed deeply. The rumblings of the elevator, the nearness of the walls, the whole situation momentarily soothed him. For just a moment, he found peace.

                The bell chimed.

                The door opened.

                Aaron was standing in the very center of the door; his eyes hard and cast forward. He stepped out into the small office space, unbothered by the dim lights or the late hour. Alone, he turned to his right and started walking. His hands in his pockets, he seemed almost determined to keep his trench coat close to him, as if it was armor against the strange office-world he had entered.

                He made his way through a seeming maze of cubicles and rows of workstations, finding his way back to the third section of offices. He stopped at the metal door and knocked.

                There was no response.

                “What the . . .” He said, shaking his head. He looked around, at the numbers on the doors next to him. Fifteen and seventeen were right where they needed to be. He held up his hand, a touch of hesitancy in his mind, but he knocked again.

                There was no response.

                “What’s going . . .” Aaron stopped. His hand threw to his face as he hit his head. “Of course.” He exclaimed with heavy annoyance. “That idiot’s the head of the Hand now. He probably moved his office over there.” He shook his head.

                Grumbling, Aaron turned back the way he had come.

                “Okay.” Sydney said with interest, sitting across from Armand in Roland’s car. “So, what’s wrong?”

                “Everett told you about Armand’s little run-in with Morgan, right?” Roland said, navigating the car through the city streets.

                “Oh.” Sydney said slowly, with a knowing expression.

                “Have you decided where you’re going to stay?” Ledger asked, from the front seat, obviously trying to change the subject.

                “I’m going to be staying with Edgar for a few weeks, until my application at the university goes through.” Sydney said, still looking at the fuming Armand, as if appraising him.

                “You’re going to go back to college?” Roland asked.

                “Yes.” Sydney said. “But I’m going to be teaching this time.”

                “Teaching what?” Armand asked, looking over at the girl.

                “Women’s Volleyball and a few history courses.” She said dismissively. “Now, what’s this about Morgan kicking your ass?” She looked up to the front. “Maybe I need to go have a few words with Mr. Brandywyne.”

                “No no no no no.” Roland said, gripping down on his steering wheel for emphasis. “I am NOT driving to that man’s house. Not at this hour. Uh-huh. Sorry. Ain’t no way. Ain’t no how. Ain’t no ever.” He exclaimed.

                “You’re not afraid, are you?” Sydney goaded with a grin.

                “Yes the hell I am.” Roland said. “Sweet Jesus Mother Mary. That boy seems to hate knights with an undying passion and he’s got a bad enough temper to boot, doubly so when it comes to us. I am not going to tempt fate by going by and poking at him with a stick when it’s nearly midnight.”

                “Coward.” Ledger grumbled.

                “You just need to drive me by.” Sydney said. “I’ll go talk to him.”

                “No.” Roland said. “And besides, if we do, we’ll miss the movie. They don’t give late tickets to midnight showings.”

                “Movie-schmovie.” The woman in the back said. She turned to Armand. “So, tell me about this fight you guys had.”

                “Here it goes.” Ledger said, situating himself comfortably into his seat.

                The elevator doors opened and Aaron stepped out into the large metal hallway. The solid light ceilings illuminated the sub-terrainian hallway with clinical clarity while the dark marble floors only seemed to reflect the light back at the eyes.

                As Aaron stepped out, he saw two guards standing in front of the main doors within sight. Aaron sighed. He already didn’t like where this was going. The head of the Investigator’s Clan walked up to the two guards, watching them ready themselves.

                “Good evening.” He said. He glanced down at his right arm as it held his trench coat, noting the time on his wristwatch. “Or morning pretty soon, I guess.” Neither of the guards smiled. Aaron smiled inspite of himself, trying to ease the moods of the two, drugged men. Between their beady eyes, their hyped-up looks, or the unnatural muscles and veins bulging in their necks, he couldn’t tell what made them seem more unearthly.

                “I’m here to see Phillip.” Aaron said.

                “I’m afraid that we can’t allow that.” Said the guard on the right.

                “You don’t have an appointment.” Said the guard on the left.

                Aaron’s left eyebrow went up. “I’m the head of the Investigator’s Clan. Since when did I need an appointment?”

                “Without an appointment, I’m afraid we can’t let you in to see him.” Said the guard on the right, barely moving as he spoke.

                “Okay.” Aaron said, with an easy gesture. “Fine. Sure. Okay.” He straightened his jacket and stood up tall before the two guards. His smile disappeared. “I am Aaron, the Head of the Investigator’s Clan for the Brotherhood of the Sun. I’d like to make an appointment to see the Head of the Miracle Worker’s Clan. I’d like to see him in about thirty seconds.”

                “We’re not at liberty to affect the Leader of the Hand’s schedule.” Said the one on the left, almost looking over Aaron’s shoulder, not even making eye contact.

                “If you’d come back during the regular office hours . . .” Started the one on the right. But he never finished.

                Aaron turned violently away, storming back down the hallway. He stepped into the open elevator door, letting it close.

                The two men heard a loud bang as the doors of the elevator dented slightly.

                “What a minute.” Sydney said, her held tilted down in disbelief. In the foyer of the movie-theater, popcorn and soda in her hands, she looked directly at Armand, Roland and Ledger behind her. “He stopped you from attack the Brotherhood?” She asked.

Armand nodded. “Yeah.” He said, sounding more than a bit embarrassed.

She suddenly spun around to look back to Roland and Ledger, a shocked look on her face. “And neither of you two did anything to help out?”

                “Well,” Roland started.

                “It was a bit complicated.” Ledger explained. “You have to have read all about it.” He said clearly, unbothered by Sydney’s distress. “You have to have.”

                “I did, but still.” Sydney looked back at Armand. “He fought a knight. He hurt a knight. He insulted a knight.” She looked back at Armand. “Oh, you have got to kick his ass.” She protested. “It’s not just personal or honorable or that stuff. It’s knights’ business.” She looked from Armand to the trio with a shaken expression. “I think all three of you should take his ass down.”

                Roland sighed. He looked over at Ledger. “What do you think?”

                Ledger seemed to only give it a moment of thought. He glanced at Sydney, then to Armand. Finally, he looked back at Roland. “I’m strangely comfortable with the idea.” He said.