The Conciege
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August Intruder- Chapter 34- Cerebus' Great Grand Daughter
🕑 Added 2024-03-03 06:57:35 +0000 UTCMelmarc sat, nervous, in a wide waiting room, black envelope in hand.
Around him was the constant hustle and bustle of men in uniforms and half-dressed men and women, with clothes that either showed too much or hid almost nothing at all. Some men were dragged in with their pants hanging far too low, or wearing singlets that showed off too many tattoos.
Each time, the men walked or were dragged through glass sliding double doors, and into the building.
Not for the first time since entering and having his seat, Melmarc wondered just how busy he was going to be for his three weeks mentorship.
After his registration at the government office, he’d met up with Ark outside.
Ark had been eager to go home, but Melmarc had stalled him for a bit. It wasn’t the nicest thing of him to do, but he’d taken advantage of his brother’s susceptibility when it came to him.
There was a part of him that was hoping to see someone.
When the person that came out, maybe ten minutes after him turned out to be a boy, he was ready to call it and go home.
“Waiting for someone?” Ark had asked in the taxi home. “Made a new friend while I was out?”
Melmarc wasn’t even sure he could call her a friend.
She’d come over to talk to him, and she’d been nice. But she’d also suggested that she’d only done it because of how nervous he’d looked and his constant foot tapping.
She also has a boyfriend, he’d thought.
And she was also the daughter of two very powerful people.
Maybe it’s for the best that I didn’t see her.
They’d gotten a mail in their emails later that night. It carried basic details of their mentorship program.
It also carried their government booked flight ticket, their two-day government paid hotel booking, the location of the free shared living apartment they would share with other Gifted who would also be around for their own mentorship program, and a government pre-booked ride to the hotel then to their destination of mentorship.
The government had spared no expense.
When Melmarc had walked into the precinct building, he’d made his way straight to the information desk where he’d met a motherly black woman. She was on the corpulent side, with big lips and wide eyes, and her uniform fit her a bit too tight.
From the way she answered him, it was like talking to an aunt he hadn’t seen in a while but could tell loved him to the moon and back. It was sweet and unnerving to get such a feeling from a stranger.
“You just sit right there, hun,” the lady had said, “and Detective Alfa will be with you in a minute.”
A minute had turned to ten.
Melmarc’s phone buzzed in his pocket while he was waiting and he pulled it out. He picked and placed it against his ear.
“Have you met your mentor yet?”
Melmarc smiled at the excitement in the voice. “Not yet, Ark. You?”
“Yes, and it’s awesome.”
Ark had been posted all the way to Utah, to serve under a Delver whose name Melmarc couldn’t remember.
“He’s got the Gunslinger class,” Ark went on. “And he’s big. Like really big. Probably seven feet tall.”
Melmarc doubted the man was that tall, but said nothing. The last thing he wanted to do was ruin his brother’s excitement.
There was a short pause where Ark said something Melmarc didn’t catch to someone.
It lasted for about a minute before he returned to the phone. “How was your hotel?”
Now that was a conversation Melmarc could get behind.
He adjusted on his seat, and slipped his envelope into his back pocket. The seat was one of those long four in one metal seats. It had lost its soft padding at some point and was now all metal.
It was uncomfortable.
“The hotel was nice. Almost gorged myself on room service between last night and this morning.”
“Ha!” Ark laughed. “That’s why they keep calling you the good one. You almost gorged yourself? I gorged the hell out of myself. I ate like a Lord.”
There was a short pause during which Melmarc could just picture his brother’s smile.
Then Ark finished the statement. “I ate like a Demon Lord.”
Melmarc sighed, but was smiling. “When they tie you to a stake and start burning you, I’ll make sure I’m half-way across the country.”
Ark laughed. “Joke’s on you, Mel. I’ve got fire resistance. And fire control.”
Melmarc peeked over at the officer at the waiting desk. She was preoccupied talking to a couple who looked sad.
“Anyway,” Ark said. “Try to gorge yourself when you get back to your room today. It’s your last day before you go to that shared apartment and live with the people that will become your friends for the next three weeks.”
Melmarc wasn’t sure about that. It was the same thing Ark had said about high school, and he’d only ended up with two friends.
“Alright, Mel. Got to go. Gunslinger’s calling me. Do you know they call him cowboy over here? He walks around with the hat and two gun, and a freaking lasso hanging from his waist. I swear if this is not as fun as he looks, I’m enslaving him when I achieve world dominance.”
Melmarc laughed as his brother hung up the phone. It was good he was making Demon Lord jokes. It proved he was fine.
I really hope he doesn’t get in trouble for smuggling Spitfire across the country.
There were no rules against familiars since the only familiars apart from Dragon-knight’s dragon were summons.
It had been Ark’s argument when he was packing Spitfire. The demon had been surprisingly calm when he’d smuggled it into a box of his own with a few clothes and told it not to make a sound.
Melmarc had worried for the creature’s discomfort, but it didn’t seem to mind.
Maybe I should’ve asked about it, he thought.
Melmarc waited another few minutes. At some point it was beginning to feel like the nice lady at the front desk had completely forgotten about him. Maybe she was even ignoring him.
But Melmarc didn’t want to think that way. She had been very amiable. And she’d had very little time to herself since he’d been directed to sit and wait.
Maybe she thinks I’m just here for the sake of being here?
That wasn’t right. He’d handed her his envelope with the letter and everything. She had to know he was a Gifted here for a mentorship program.
Don’t they get a lot of Gifted for mentorship programs?
It was a legitimate worry. There were police departments that didn’t have a Gifted department. No detectives to handle Gifted related problems or the likes. At times like that, they either solicited help from the nearest precincts that did, or contracted with any resident Gifted they felt met the criteria for the job.
Precincts like that wouldn’t have Gifted coming in for mentorship programs since there were no Gifted to mentor them.
But this precinct had Detective Alfa. She was popular for her work as a Gifted detective, and had done a year as a Delver before joining the force.
She was popular enough that if she had moved to a new precinct, the internet would know. But Melmarc didn’t, and he hadn’t checked.
What if this was, in fact, a new precinct. What if she was their first Gifted detective and the nice lady at the front desk really didn’t know what to do with him, and had just called the next best person who was now taking forever to arrive.
He unlocked his phone and went straight for the internet.
Nope, I’m right.
Detective Alfa hadn’t changed precincts. This was where she worked out of and had been working out of for the past few years.
Melmarc raised his head from his phone and looked at the lady at the waiting desk. Now he was feeling odd.
He watched her for a whole minute during which she answered only one person before going back to her computer.
Not once did she even glance at him accidentally. And while he might be far from her, he was still in her line of sight. You’d think she’d be checking up on the teenager she told to have a seat.
Another ten minutes later, Melmarc was tired of waiting. And was slightly frustrated. The lady had kept him seated for almost thirty minutes without a single update or acknowledgement that she was still aware of his presence.
Melmarc got up from his uncomfortable seat and made his way to her.
She was currently talking to two teenagers so he stood behind them, creating a queue that had never been there before. From the little he caught, the teenagers, both male, were reporting a stolen phone.
The lady was as amiable to with them as she had been with him. Her questions were quick and concise. She gathered as much details as she could in as short an amount of time as she could.
“One last thing,” she said to both boys with a smile. “Are any of you Gifted?”
Melmarc was puzzled. That was an odd question to be asking people when they were reporting a missing phone. What did being Gifted had to do with anything phone related?
“It’s just a routine question when we get reports like this,” she said with a gentle smile. “It helps the police narrow down a few searches, prevents redundancy.”
That puzzled Melmarc more. What did redundancy have to do with anything?
One of the boy’s nodded. “I’m Gifted. I got registered last year.”
“Mhm.” The lady typed away at her computer. “Alright. Just wanted to get it all in.”
She turned and did something Melmarc couldn’t catch from behind the boys, then handed them a piece of paper.
“Come back in two days and use the second entrance. Give them this when you come back. It’s the code to your case file. You should have a result by then.”
Melmarc wasn’t sure how to feel about the whole thing. In fact, she was still so nice and worked that he was worried that coming up to her would somehow intrude on her work.
If the envelope had come with a way to contact Detective Alfa, this entire process would’ve been a whole lot easier.
When the boys walked towards the exit, Melmarc occupied their space.
“Uhmm, excuse me.” He brought his envelope from his back pocket again. “I’ve been waiting for a while now, and I just wanted to know if—”
“Thalisa!” someone bellowed angrily. “Thalisa!”
The lady smiled at Melmarc and he noted a touch of satisfaction in it. “Oh, here comes someone to take you now. Do have a wonderful rest of your time.”
She turned back to her computer, and it was as if he never even existed.
A lady with short blonde hair stepped in from behind a pair of sliding double-doors that led deeper into the building.
She wore a brown trench coat over casual clothes.
Melmarc watched her approach from behind the transaparent doors. When she got to the doors, they opened on their own, and she walked through without pause.
When she got to Melmarc and the lady, she came to a halt.
“Do you have one of my people waiting out here, Thalisa?”
She was staring angrily at the lady so Melmarc felt it was safe to assume that the corpulent lady was Thalisa.
Thalisa looked up at her. “I’ve not kept any of your people waiting, detective.”
Melmarc’s jaw almost dropped.
He had been waiting. He’d been waiting for thirty minutes.
The lady groaned in annoyance. “I swear to God, Thalisa. One of these days a police officer is going to shoot you in the back.”
Thalisa snorted, all her friendliness gone. “That’s why I never turn my back around your lot.”
Melmarc’s jaw did drop this time. He didn’t want to believe he was witnessing what he thought he was witnessing.
The detective opened her mouth to say more, then looked at Melmarc as if noticing him for the first time.
Her eyes panned down to the envelope in his hand, and her face turned livid. “For fuck’s sake!”
Melmarc wasn’t sure if she was angry at him, the envelope, or Thalisa. One thing he did know was that she definitely didn’t hide her emotions.
“How long have you been waiting, kid? I take it you’re Melmarc Lockwood.”
Melmarc nodded. “I am. And I’ve been here for like thirty minutes.”
The detective turned a scowl on Thalisa. “And why didn’t anyone come get me?”
Thalisa looked up, as if seeing Melmarc for the first time. “He’s one of yours? How was I supposed to know? Everyone knows that you use the other entrance for every Gifted related issues.”
Melmarc couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He’d shown her the envelope. Told her he was here to meet the detective in the Gifted department. She’d read the envelope.
Was he missing something?
The detective looked like she was going to pop a vein. She snatched the envelope from Melmarc’s hand and practically shoved it in Thalisa’s face.
“How many fucking teenagers do you know that come into this precinct holding a black fucking envelope.” She closed the envelope so that the broken seal, slowly worn out from age, was almost as one. “How many of them have the fucking seal of the Department of Gifted Affairs?”
Her voice was loud enough that some of the officers going about their day had stopped to look.
Thalisa looked at the envelope and shrugged. “I had no idea what it was. It was just an envelope with a broken old seal. I thought it could’ve been anything.”
At this point, Melmarc just wanted to be done. He wanted to take his envelope and be led to Detective Alfa. He hoped the lady with them was Detective Alfa. He hadn’t seen a picture of her before, or if he had, it was so long ago that he couldn’t remember it.
“You know what, Thalisa?” the detective handed Melmarc back his envelope. “Fuck you! And I hope you stub your toe and get teethed by an Asian.”
Thalisa smirked. “That’s verbal abuse, detective Alfa. You could get written up for it.”
Alfa clicked her tongue and turned away. “Good luck with that, fatty.”
That one got a frown out of Thalisa. “You better prepare your defense, bitch. I’m going to be filing a report for hate speech.”
Alfa gave her the middle finger. “File it where the sun don’t shine.” Then she turned to Melmarc. “Come with me, Lockwood.”
When she headed for the glass doors, Melmarc followed behind her.
The doors opened for them and they walked through. The detective led him down a clean hallway and they avoided uniformed officers and felons ini cuffs. They cut through a room full of cubicles and countless stacks of papers with a multitude of people just trying to get through the day.
The detective ignored everyone, returning greetings only when greetings were offered.
Melmarc followed, all the while wondering about what had just happened. He knew there were people who discriminated against the Gifted, but he hadn’t thought he’d be witnessing a scenario so soon. Or become the victim of one.
His curiosity got the better of him, and when the detective led them into a less populated hallway, flanked by white walls, he spoke.
“She seemed nice in the beginning.”
He didn’t have to explain, because the detective replied. “Snakes seem nice in the beginning when they look like nothing more than green grass.”
“Is she having a bad day?” he asked, hoping for a positive response but not expecting one.
The detective snorted. “Any day a Gifted arrives in front of her is her bad day. She’s a Gifted-hater, through and through.”
They got to a new set of doors and Alfa stopped with a hand on one of the doors. It felt like they were about to head into a completely different part of the precinct building.
“The only reason she still has a job here is because she’s the daughter of some douche who knows some douche that probably slept with some douche.”
That’s a lot of douches.
Alfa pinched the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger and let out a calming breath.
“That wasn’t fair. I’m sure the people she knows could easily be good people. No reason to believe everyone she knows and the people they know are douches.”
She turned to him and held out her hand. “Sorry for the late introduction. I’m Detective Firdausi Alfa, and I’ll be your superior mentor for the duration of your internship with us.”
Melmarc shook her hand. It was a bit small in his, but she was also shorter than him, so it wasn’t too surprising. “Melmarc Lockwood. I’ll be in your care.”
Alfa shook it once, dropped it, and looked at him funny. “Naïve and polite. I’ll really miss that when your internship is over.”
Melmarc wasn’t sure how to react to that, so he opted for something he just remembered.
“Two boys came in earlier to report a stolen phone,” he told her. “When the lady at the desk finished getting their statement, she asked if they were Gifted.”
Alfa sighed. “One of them was, right?”
Melmarc nodded. “She gave them something on a paper and told them to come back in two days and use the second entrance. She said it was their case ID.”
Alfa nodded as he spoke.
When he was done, she ran a hand through her hair. “I’m guessing you want to know if their case will be worked on or want to see if there’s a way we can make sure it is.”
Melmarc nodded again.
“Sorry to disappoint you, Lockwood, but there isn’t. Thalisa probably deleted their entire statement the moment she found out one of them was Gifted. Whatever she gave them was probably random numbers. When they come back, they’ll end up with us and we’ll have to do damage control and pretend and ask questions all over again.”
She let out a tired sigh. “That woman just keeps giving us more work than we deserve.”
For a moment, Alfa looked older than the thirty-five years the internet claimed she was. Melmarc felt bad for her.
She could really do without all the excess work. From what he knew about Gifted detectives, they weren’t really detectives. They were a legal form of super heroes. They went to active crime scenes where the culprit was breaking boulders with their bare hands or flipping cars over with summoned waves of water. He could still remember a case from years back where the criminal had been terrorizing the town with summoned familiars that looked like dinosaurs.
The police force had lost eight Gifted detectives that night before bringing him under control.
People had begged to have the criminal killed in the most brutal way possible, but the government had taken a strong stance against it. They said that was vengeance, and that despite the losses, their duty was to uphold justice not enact vengeance.
Detective Alfa pushed the doors open.
Melmarc was introduced to a completely different place. He was sure they were still in the same building as he walked in behind the detective. The floors were made of black tiles and polished to a reflective shine.
The walls were the same white as the ones outside, but these were spotlessly clean. Either those who worked in this part of the building were extremely clean or they had the entire place maintained regularly.
As Alfa led Melmarc he had a question in mind.
“What do you mean superior mentor?”
Alfa gave a simple shrug. “Don’t worry about it. All you mentees have the same question when you first come in.”
Melmarc did his best not to worry about it. Chances were he would find out what it meant eventually. Left to him, he thought it was like a program where he would report to someone else who would in turn report to her.
After a short, silent stroll through the empty hallway and through another set of double doors, Alfa chuckled.
“I swear you’re worse than the others.”
Melmarc paused. “What?”
“Friendly piece of advice.” Alfa gave him a quick look. “Never play poker. I don’t think you can hide your expression to save your life. If you’re really that curious, I’ll just explain how it works. The others have been around for a while so I think it’ll just bore them to hear it all over again.”
Melmarc didn’t think he was really that curious about what a superior mentor was, but he wasn’t going to turn down a free explanation.
It turned out that he was right. Detective Alfa was a superior detective which meant she had a team of her own that reported to her. So she couldn’t go around mentoring everybody. And every month she had at least nine mentees assigned to her.
So they’d created a system. She was the superior mentor, while those that reported to her played the role of the base mentor. The Gifted were coupled with one of the detectives that reported to her and the detective would give her whatever feedback they felt was necessary.
It didn’t mean that she was out of the picture, however. If a Gifted had an issue with their buddied mentor, her door was always open to hear them out. And if a mentor felt something was not working right, he reported the situation to her and she would step in for whatever reason.
The summary of what he and the other Gifted he was yet to meet would be doing didn’t seem so bad. The detectives often went on patrols, which was very rarely, and they were required to head out with them.
Melmarc would be Melmarc Lockwood, junior detective. And he would get his own badge and everything.
In situations where there was a Gifted crime, depending on the scale they would be required to play damage control. While whatever detective or detectives were present, the Gifted mentees would ensure civilian safety. They would make sure no one was killed by falling debris or misfired skills or civilian sheer stupidity.
Based on his class and skills, he might be required to take on some extra tasks. But Alfa assured him that he had nothing to worry about on that note.
“Most extra tasks usually involve visiting CI’s who are too low in the chain of importance or their handlers just find annoying.”
Alfa didn’t seem bothered by it so Melmarc wasn’t. Though he felt that warranted a bit more worry. If confidential informants were anything like they were in the movies, maybe he should be worried.
When not under important work for the Gifted department, they would be allowed to go on patrol with the police officers that roamed the streets.
As unheard of as it was, according to Alfa, there were often scenarios where officers on patrol ran into active crimes only to find out that one or two of the culprits were Gifted. Popularly, they turned out to be in the F to D ranks.
But despite how weak those ranks seemed to a Gifted, they remained deadly enough to those without classes.
Melmarc had worries as they finally stepped into a busy room. It was the size of a normal detective office with a few tables and a lot of papers. There were people seating at desks having different conversations.
The floor was the same marble black, polished to a reflective shine this section of the precinct building had everywhere. The walls were a pristine white. The only mess in the large room was the papers stacked haphazardly on the desks.
Melmarc and Alfa stepped onto a raised platform as they walked through the door. It was guarded by a balustrade that went down on both sides where there were stairs that came down to normal ground level.
One of the men, a blonde raised his hands in greeting to Alfa and she ignored him.
As they walked down, Melmarc presented his worries. Alfa had an answer for each one.
What happened in dangerous situations when a Gifted wasn’t physically powerful enough to withstand heavy damage?
Such a situation would be a careless miscalculation on the part of the detective in charge of the Gifted. According to her, as long as the Gifted gave honest responses regarding what they were capable of, they would be assigned accordingly.
“It would be stupid to give an Intelligence type a job for a Strength type. Imagine giving a Weaver of gas the job of a Beastmaster. I’d sue myself if I was guilty of that. And my husband won’t let me live it down.”
Melmarc wasn’t sure if she’d mentioned her husband to see how he would react to it or if it was merely a simple sentence her husband just happened to be a part of.
Unsure of which one it was, he said nothing on that. Instead, he posited his other worry. It was less a worry and more a curiosity.
“What happens if a portal opens when we’re on a job?”
Alfa paused halfway down the short stairs and looked at him. “You obviously do not enter it.”
That was obvious enough. At least Melmarc thought it was. He might’ve waited a little too close to danger on their school trip in case his help was needed, but he wasn’t so in a hurry to help that he would enter a portal just like that.
I’m not stupid.
When his silence lasted long enough, Alfa added: “There are protocols in place for such scenarios. They are rare since most portals only open in unpopulated areas. But they are not unheard of.”
“What’s the protocol?” Melmarc was standing on the same step she was and couldn’t help but notice just how much of a difference in height he had on her.
She barely came up to his shoulders.
“Well,” she said, then resumed her descent, forcing him to follow, “in situations like that, you will have a communication device you will use to report to your superior. Now, I don’t know if you’re one of those Gifted who are aware of when a portal opens, but if you are, then you will have the extra task of alerting your superior when you sense one.”
Melmarc didn’t really see the benefit of that. There were too many Gifted who had the awareness, if he was to believe uncle Dorthna so he didn’t see the point to it. And even if there weren’t that many in the precinct, what was the benefit of him alerting his superior? They were part of the law enforcement but they were not Delvers.
They had no business entering portals.
“And before you ask why.” Alfa stepped on ground level and took a detour towards one of the table, “please understand that a portal could always appear right smack in the middle of a residential area. Or some fool could wander over to where a portal was and decide to be a fool about it.”
Melmarc knew a few stories about such a situation. There was a man in Alaska who’d wandered too close to a portal.
A portal’s effect on normal people varied very greatly. Gifted were not affected by its presence, but normal people could experience odd phenomenon ranging from a temporary skill or class to instant death.
The man from Alaska had allegedly frozen to death instantly.
Melmarc wasn’t sure how much of the story was true, but there was a frozen sculpture oddly resembling a man at Alaska so maybe there was an actual story there.
“Come on,” Alfa said, pointing at an enclosed office on the other side of the room. “We're this way.”
Melmarc looked around them as he followed her. There were grown men and women living through the hustle and bustle of life. But there were also teenagers hovering around, doing one or two things or simply staring.
“I thought this was where we were heading.”
Alfa made a dismissive gesture. “Not at all. Everyone in this room is Gifted, but most of your mates you see aren’t here for the mentorship program. Just simple internships.”
………………….
The enclosed office turned out to be a miniature conference room which wasn’t much different in design from what Melmarc was now beginning to call the Gifted department of the precinct.
It had a large oval table with sixteen seats that were currently occupied by ten people. Among them were six people who were his age and the remaining four who clearly worked in the department.
Each of the detectives wore casual clothes, simple, with their badges hanging on them in different ways. Some wore theirs around their neck, dangling from a chain while others had it strapped to their belts.
Of the four, one man stood out. He wore an entire three-piece suit, complete with a black hat and stared uninterestingly at his phone.
Melmarc took note of the teenagers in the room as he walked in. Two girls were in the midst of three boys. One of the boys was an Asian. He had his cut to a buzz cut and wore glasses. Another looked like a typical jock in high school. The third had dark skin and looked like someone a scout would think of as a prospect for basketball.
His height reminded Melmarc of Eroms while his width reminded him of Delano.
One of the girl’s had her hair held back in a pony tail. She was a brunette and was smiling at her phone as if she’d just heard something funny.
The other girl was African. She had a round face and wore her hair in short braids that stopped at her shoulders.
She was the only one who’d been watching the door even before they stepped in.
There was a lectern at the head of the room, just at the wall near the entrance, and everyone sat facing it. Alfa walked up to it and stood behind it.
Melmarc stood at the door at first, after closing it behind him. He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to take a sit.
After a beat, Alfa gestured for him to join her.
He did.
“Alright everyone,” she addressed the rest of the room. “I’m sorry we had to have such a long pause as I’m sure most of you have cases you need to get back to, and shenanigans you would rather be involved in than this.”
One of the detectives raised his hand. He looked in his late thirties to early forties with receding hairlines.
“Why’s the kid late?”
“He ran into cerebus’ great grand daughter,” Alfa said easily, not even trying to hide her disgust.
The detectives in the room let out easy laughs while the teenagers remained quiet. It seemed Thalisa’s discrimination wasn’t new to anybody.
“Which one?” another detective asked. She was a Hispanic woman with her badge pinned to the left breast of her brown leather jacket.
“Thalisa.”
There was cheering among the seated detective and Melmarc watched money switch hands for a moment.
Had they suspected that he was late because of what had happened.
“I really thought Mercy was manning the waiting room today,” one of them grumbled. He looked like the youngest of them. “I saw her at the table earlier today when I went to get a file from Janet.”
“Alright, everyone.” Alfa knocked on the lectern to get their attention. “Simmer down. We’ve got our last mentee with us so we can all continue. It’s unfortunate since I’m sure you’ve picked out the teams you want already, but we’ll have to go again.”
A detective raised his hand.
“Yes, Nan.”
“We actually haven’t,” Nan said. “Everyone wanted the Warrior, so it kind of ended up in a bit of a clusterfuck.”
Alfa’s eyes moved to the tall dark skinned boy, and Melmarc assumed he was the Warrior. He couldn’t blame them for the disagreement. The Warrior class was a strength type and was one of the best classes to have in a combat situation. Their class alone gave them extra points to Strength, Agility, and Dexterity.
They were a versatile class strictly designed for combat situations.
Truthfully, Melmarc had expected it to be the jock.
“Alright,” Alfa said after a moment. “Then I guess there’s no worries. So, for the sake of our liberated new colleague, I will ask that we re-introduce ourselves.”
There was a groan from one of the detectives that was pointedly ignored by everyone.
Melmarc stood beside Alfa while the detectives introduced themselves. No one stood up or did anything really coordinated. Each detective simply raised their hands, gave their name, class and rank.
It turned out that two of the detectives were C-ranks, one was a D-rank and one was a B-rank with a Class that wasn’t combat related in any way. Their classes weren’t unique but they were sufficient for the job and only one was a strength type. Two were Agility types.
The teenagers were a completely different set.
“Name’s Jeremy,” the one that looked like a jock said easily. “I’m an A-rank Lancer.”
That was already off to a good start. An A-rank was an amazing rank by any standard. That the precinct already had one meant that a lot of the detectives would already be eyeing him.
The Asian boy raised his hand.
“I’m Takeda. C-rank Marksman.”
Marksmen were similar to Gunslingers. Their class gave them an edge in ranged combats. They were especially deadly with guns… obviously.
The African girl went next. She gave a wide smile that showed her teeth and had a touch of embarrassment in it.
“Olatunji Oluwapkelumi.” She said her name slowly. “Oluwakpelumi is spelt with a P and no K. I’m a B-rank Invoker.”
That was a lot to take in. For starters Melmarc took a moment to wrap his mind around how her name was pronounced. How was there supposed to be a ‘P’ and no ‘K’ when she pronounced it as if the two letters worked side by side? Then he took in her frame. She was on the smaller side with even proportions. She was full but he wouldn’t call her athletic. But he wouldn’t call her nimble either.
For some reason, though, he hadn’t expected her to have an Intelligence based Class.
When she dropped her hand, the second girl raised hers.
“Samantha. C-rank Caster.”
The tall boy in the warrior class went last. Even seated, anyone could tell he was tall. He had the long legs to show.
“De’andre. B-rank Warrior.”
Melmarc turned to Alfa when everyone was done. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but he was expecting something.
“I’m a B-rank Enchanter,” she told him unceremoniously. “Your turn.”
Melmarc was suddenly nervous. His palms were beginning to feel sweaty, even though he knew they weren’t. He was reliving his worry of how he would be received when they heard his class.
They’ll either like me or they won’t, he concluded. Nothing I can do about it. And I can always put in for a redeployment if it gets bad.
He placed his hands behind him, clasped them together. “I’m Melmarc Lockwood. B-rank Faker.”
He watched the expressions go through the people in front of him and almost winced. A lot of things could be said about their reactions, but one thing was certain: They weren’t very pleased to be working with a Faker.
Well, except the man in the three-piece suit. He actually looked up from his phone at Melmarc’s introduction. A smile split his face and he slipped the phone into his pocket.
He sat forward and placed his forearms on the conference table, suddenly interested.
Melmarc tried to remember his class and rank.
Isn’t he a B-rank Sage?
Melmarc dug around in his head for what the Sage class was capable of. One of the things he could remember was that almost all Sages had eidetic memories. They could remember everything they’d ever seen.
It wasn’t much of a superpower in a sense, but it was at a level people were terming manaric. They could even remember the form of someone’s skill. Whatever that was.
Apparently, someone’s skill having a form was a Sage thing.
Alfa took over the meeting almost immediately.
“Alright, then. We’ll be doing things a little differently this time around,” she announced.
“What do you mean differently, Boss?” Tony, the detective with the receding hairline asked.
He was a C-rank Ranger.
“Usually we draw lots or make our picks in order of accomplishments for the year.” Alfa folded her arms over her chest. “This time, however, the picks will be random.”
“Oh God, no,” Ximena groaned. She was the only D-rank.
“Oh God, yes,” Alfa replied sarcastically. “Now, I don’t have to explain why I’m doing this, do I?”
Melmarc didn’t think she needed to. Obviously, if she allowed them pick, he was going to end up being that kid that was picked last and reluctantly on the sports field. The one no one wanted but someone had to grudgingly accept.
He was actually grateful for Alfa’s idea. But he also wasn’t very sure he wanted to be working with someone who would feel like he’d been forced on them.
Not like I have a choice.
He was already drafting his letter of appeal to the government for a redeployment in his head.
The man in the three-piece suit drummed his fingers against the conference table, drawing everyone’s attention. He’d introduced himself as Naymond Hitchcock.
“You have something to say, Nay?” Alfa asked.
“As a matter of fact, I do.” He stopped drumming his fingers on the table. “How about I get first pick? I promise everyone will be happier for it. And if they are, I get a second pick as a reward.”
He looked between everyone as if waiting for their permission and not Alfa’s.
“You don’t get to pick, though. Remember?” Alfa said. “I assign you a mentee, and you work with them. That’s how this works for you.”
“Besides,” Ximena said, looking back at Naymond. “Don’t you hate having mentees? If I remember correctly, you said they were like overgrown puppies without the cuteness.”
Naymond shrugged. “What can I say, people change. So what do you all say? We’re a democratic country so let’s be democratic.”
The other detectives turned to Alfa.
Alfa sighed.
“All of you remember that he’s only a consultant, right?” she asked, as if simply for the sake of asking.
Melmarc looked at Naymond again and realized he was the only one without a badge on display.
Did he not have one?
Naymond wiggled his brows at Alfa. “What’s it going to be, detective? We can solve the equation of the elephant in the room with just one word.”
Melmarc found himself hoping Alfa was a democratic leader. He wasn’t sure why she was so hesitant about allowing Naymond pick. In fact, something told him it was for a good reason. But at least Naymond looked like he wanted him. It was far better than working with someone who didn’t… right?
Please say yes.
Alfa bowed her head in defeat. “Alright, yes. But you only get a second pick if everyone’s pleased with the first. I was going to saddle two of you with two mentees anyway.”
Naymond clapped once in theatric satisfaction. “Then I’ll be more than happy to have Mr. Lockwood on my side. Does this please the room?”
There was a chorus of agreement from the other detectives.
“Good.” Naymond smiled widely. “And for my next trick…”
Alfa groaned.
“…I’ll have dear Ms. Olatunji Oluwapelumi without the K.” He said the name too easily for someone who had just heard the name for the first time.
Judging from the surprise on the girl’s face, it was safe to say they didn’t know each other.
For some reason, as pleased as he was to work with someone who actually wanted him, Melmarc couldn't shake the bad feeling that was slowly creeping up on him.
I'm sure it's notihng.
At least he hoped it was nothing.
Comments
Ctaethaway
What does this line mean “Fuck you! And I hope you stub your toe and get teethed by an Asian” Does it have some in world significance?
Steven Beal
thanks for the chapter
