Elemorts

Chapter XIII - Deadly Designs

Jayrock watched from his suite's balcony as the procession moved past the hotel's front gates on a red carpet. He watched in amusement as the same people, who stood civilly a few moments ago behind the barricades, now turned into a mob that pushed and shoved each other in an effort to jump the barriers like a bunch of hyper schoolkids. The guards struggled to keep them out of the way as a couple of black, luxury cars made their way down the carpet at a snail's pace, hounded by camera operators and reporters alike.

His mind went back to Heraclark, the Loogmort who had saved him from the choppy waters of the Great Unzayi Lake. Heraclark had told him about an actress whose name Jayrock had forgotten. Her posters were everywhere in the hotel, along with step and repeat banners of a tournament or something. Apparently, she had arrived.

Jayrock felt the bandage under his teal shirt on his chest. The medic had patched it up real good, and it didn't pain anymore. He had been worried he would have to go to a hospital — that would have attracted attention, and his VBP would have been taken as well. But Heraclark brought him here, to the strange Hotel Grande, where no one asked any questions. Fortunately, Jayrock had brought a counterfeit credit card with him on the mission to Karomoz since Gylith and he were supposed to infiltrate the spaceport as civilians.

Jayrock was still unsure why Heraclark had saved him or not outed him as the 'terrorist' who had caused all the trouble at the spaceport. The Loogmort had vaguely mentioned how someone like Jayrock could turn out to be useful to him on his mission.

The mission in question seemed to be to kill a certain man who had once killed his father. Heraclark had been gone since morning, and it was getting dark now. Jayrock wondered if he had gotten into trouble. Before he left, Jayrock had declared that to go all on his own without a proper plan was reckless beyond the point of sanity. "I should have let you drown in the lake," was the reply Jayrock got for his troubles.

"Come in, Petrolons," the dreaded voice boomed from Jayrock's transceiver, which lay on the railing. "This is Sandywick. Do you copy?"

Jayrock closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. He had been waiting for this, yet he did not have the energy to go through with it. Since the spaceport, he had been continuously wondering if he should allow himself to hope — hope that he would stand vindicated in the eyes of those back at Grebros. He wasn't even sure if he stood justified in his own eyes. Cliff was still dead, after all. What difference would anything he did make to that?

"Petrolons, do you copy?" Sandywick's voice disrupted his train of thought again.

Jayrock reluctantly picked up the transceiver. "Loud and clear, Colonel."

A long pause followed. The anticipation was killing Jayrock.

"Why are you not back yet?" Sandywick asked slowly.

"The spaceport is still a mess, sir. I was waiting for things to cool down."

"Hmm... that it is. At least the freighter is safely back home... and most of the crew."

Is that a compliment? Jayrock wondered. He was not sure how to respond, so he just said, "Yes, sir."

"Some of the crew isn't."

There it is, Jayrock thought. "They were dead before we arrived, sir."

"Yes, Gravelson told me so. Tell me, Petrolons, why did you not destroy the fuel tanks when I expressly ordered you to destroy the fuel tanks?"

And Gylith didn't tell you that? Jayrock mused. Jayrock recalled how bummed he had been when the arrival of that other spaceship had almost ruined their mission. In the heat of the moment, Jayrock had decided to drive up to it to stop it. The fuel tanks did not matter at all at that moment. But would Sandywick understand that? He doesn't want to, Jayrock thought.