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Double-Blind CH133
🕑 Added 2022-07-29 00:36:44 +0000 UTCAN: Chap for yesterday ended up being super long, even after I cutting it in two. Second chapter going up shortly. Enjoy the combined 5k wordcount.
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I was more confident, now, that I had Tyler’s trust. His wife had been in the region we’d saved, and whatever he and Miles had talked about, I was reasonably sure he didn’t suspect me. The man was careful, but he didn’t hide his emotions well.
Miles was another story.
I’d watched the way he worked first hand, knew a fraction of what he was capable of. And that fraction frightened me. Whether he possessed the hubris required to bring a suspect into an investigation was irrelevant. From now on, It was safer to assume that anything he said, any actions he took, were all part of a mind game.
Even if they weren’t.
Miles leaned against the wall behind him as Tyler began to speak. His voice was imbued with a unique gravitas that immediately quieted the crowd. “I’d like to apologize for bringing you all here on short notice. It’s a time of great hardship for all of us. While there’s no definitive estimate, there are estimates of casualties beyond two-hundred thousand. Nearly a sixth of the city’s population.”
The number made my head spin. I knew it was bad. Towards the end of the transposition, you couldn’t move a block without seeing a body. Usually more than one.
“There isn’t a single person in this room who hasn’t experienced a loss of some sort, whether it be great or small.” Tyler paused there to study the crowd, let his words sink in.
I angled my wheel-chair just enough that my extended peripheral encompassed the crowd. Some looked more crestfallen than others. Everyone was tired.
“Most of you saw the broadcasts. The one that occurred before the event, and the follow-up that aired a matter of hours ago.”
There was an angry murmur in response. Tyler nodded. “The powers that are driving this, seem to view our tragedies as nothing more than setbacks, our victories as the result of their “gifts.” None of us agreed to be a part of what’s happening. No one signed up for this.”
A few agreements were uttered.
“Divisions have already begun to form, as have alliances.”
“Are you fucking serious?” Someone said. It was a man from the Aesir group, caucasian, with long dreadlocks that extended below his shoulders. His arms were crossed.
Tyler paused, a flash of anger appearing for only a moment before he banished it. Instead, he extended an open palm. “Was there a question in the back?”
“Did you really bring us all here for a pussy-ass kumbaya pitch?”
Surprisingly, the Guild Leader chuckled. “Speaking of division.” A nervous laughter followed, and the Neo-viking turned red and sat down. “But no. As much as I’d prefer a large-scale alliance—and willing to consider a smaller alliance with practically any party present here today—that is not the purpose of this meeting.” Tyler took a deep breath and looked around, his face stoic. “There’s no telling how long this ordeal will last. After less than a month, our losses are catastrophic. If it continues at this rate, less than half a year from now, we will be obliterated.”
A heavy silence fell over the room.
“Everyone in this room is here because you understand the importance of banding together in times of crisis.” Tyler did a slow sweep, surveying the room. “I understand that there are conflicting objectives, differing methods and purposes among our groups. What I’m proposing is not a full-bore alliance. Simply an agreement. That in matters that pose an existential threat—disasters with a likelihood of high casualties, we act as one. Yes?” He pointed towards someone in the back.
Aa woman in businesswear and glasses in the LRE row lowered her hand. She idly spun a golden pen that had yet to touch the notepad beneath. “We’re not opposed to this sort of thing in theory. But if this meeting is about the Ordinator, we’re not interested. The overseer told us practically nothing about them. Not to mention, the footage shielded their appearance. We have better things to do than chasing bogeymen in the dark.”
Another murmuring bubbled up from the crowd. Some in agreement, others in dissent.
Tyler reached up, clicking a remote control. The first slide came up on the projector screen. It was one of the stills from region six of me standing in the center of the hellish landscape. He pointed to the figure. “What if I could tell you not only his name, but his objective? Give you access to the tools you’d need to identify him? Would that… hold your interest?”
The woman slowly inclined her head.
“Fair enough. Here’s what we know.” Tyler picked up speed. “Sometime in the first half of the transposition, nearly one-hundred-and-seventy-five thousand men, women, and children died. The surrounding city was transformed into what you see before you. If you’re keeping up with the math, that’s correct. Most of our casualties stemmed from a single region. There were no eyewitnesses that saw the actual transformation, so we can safely assume it happened quickly. Shortly after, a solo-user we’d previously encountered called it in to my associate. This User’s name was Myrddin, and as of this time, we believe him to be the Ordinator was referring to.”
“What did he look like?” Someone called out.
Tyler grimaced. “We believe Myrddin is in possession of either an item or ability that obfuscates his appearance. The result is subtle but effective. You might see him as tall and stern, while a friend standing next to you might see him as short and hispanic. Thankfully, this is not limitless. My associate spent a short amount of time fighting alongside him, and was able to identify him as the same person, though he looked entirely different.”
I watched, in a mix of horror and fascination, as Tyler recounted the events, touching on nearly every interaction we’d had during the transposition. He was careful to divert blame and suspicion away from the Merchant’s Guild when it started pointing that way, stating clearly that every other member of the merchant’s guild was accounted for. I had a feeling the only reason there wasn’t a world of suspicion being thrown my way was my name was on the Adventurer’s Guild’s roster, accompanied by the NPC class. Tyler was emphatic that there wasn’t a feat that could dupe this, with confidence that indicated he must have researched and cross-checked thoroughly.
If that was one of the key reasons I wasn’t suspected along with Tyler’s personal bias, I needed to find a way to totally absolve myself, and quickly. Because Ellison had managed the same thing with the Merchant’s Guild. With over a million people still standing, it was astronomically unlikely we were the only ones. And if that came out before I established an alibi that could somehow clear me after the fact, I was fucked.
The woman from the LRE raised her hand again, and Tyler called on her. “This is all very intriguing. But if Myrddin can change his appearance at any given time, I’m not seeing how it’s possible to track him down, let alone catch him.”
Tyler glanced back at Miles. “I think that’s my cue to let the professional take over.”
Miles rubbed his neck in an aw-shucks way as he swapped places with Tyler. He leaned down too close to the standing mic and cleared his throat. “Hi. I’m Miles. I come from a long and decorated history in law-enforcement. No need to get into the details, but I’ll be heading up the Ordinator Task Force in cooperation with the Adventurer’s Guild.”
It struck me that the shyness wasn’t an act. Miles wasn’t a good speaker. The natural, almost super-human charisma he possessed on an individual level seemed to leave him the moment he started speaking into the mic. Tyler outshone him significantly. It didn’t help that the crowd seemed less than thrilled to be speaking to a government official, considering how the government had done approximately fuck-all since the transposition started.
“Tyler did an excellent job bringing you up to speed on the actual events. I’ll briefly recount my experience, as it’s tied intimately with what I suspect Myrddin is after.” Miles struggled with the clicker, and eventually the image shifted to a still from the broadcast: Myrddin stooping to pick up on of the User cores in region six. “Not long after the dome became common knowledge, I was reassigned to what the men in charged called the necromancer initiative.”
Fuck.
All at once, I realized why Miles was so invested in this. Why Tyler felt he could trust him. They had something in common. Myrddin had duped them both.
“There was a certain subset of Users that killing people in mass. To the extent that local law enforcement picked up on it immediately and notified the proper organization, who, in true bureaucratic fashion, pawned it off on us.” Miles nodded towards the front-middle row that contained the DPD, Yulia taking up the corner.” He flipped through several slides, giving them a much more detailed rundown of the sewer necromancer that he’d described to me.
With one notable exception.
Miles went into detail on a necromancer’s lair. The concept of the lair itself reminded me of Kinsley’s sanctuary. According to Miles, the lair served a double-purpose as a combined workspace and hideaway for the User. And if the User died, the lair would remain solvent for an hour, then dissipate.
“We’ll come back to that.” Miles’ smirk faded. “Now, I had a feeling there was a necromancer involved. All signs pointed to it. Before we fully committed to the course, I warned Myrddin about the dangers a necromancer posed. He’d been nothing but cooperative up to this point, so there was no reason to withhold vital information. Unsurprisingly, this did nothing to dissuade him. I didn’t trust him, exactly, but it was in line with his prior motives—protecting the region and minimizing casualties.”
Miles nodded. “That’s correct. Though none of us had any way of knowing that at the time. We got separated during the raid. Our paths converged at the top floor of the building, in the necromancer’s lair. Myrddin beat me there and neutralized the threat. I only got there in time to see the aftermath.”
His green eyes flashed in something I couldn’t parse in time. It was almost giddy. “This is where it gets interesting. I’ve spent thousands of hours in various interrogation rooms. Taught electives at Quantico on the topic. There’s a certain art to it. You can’t always get a confession—some perps are too smart for that—but after a while you can easily spot the lies. Everyone has a tell. I say all this, so you can understand who exactly we’re dealing with. Because nothing about the events Myrddin recounted felt inauthentic. If anything, he seemed genuinely distraught over killing someone, justified as it was. Displayed all the markers of a person who’d gone through a truly traumatic experience.”
Miles thumbed the clicker, returning to the image of me standing in the midst of region six. “He was so convincing, that it wasn’t until everything came out at the end of the transposition that I started having doubts. Those doubts persisted, until I returned to the raid site on my own, finding it abandoned.
He thumbed the clicker again, and the familiar image of Vernon’s lair returned to the screen. “Seeing is believing. This was taken hours after the necromancer had supposedly died. I retrieved the alleged necromancer’s corpse and brought it to a colleague of mine, who performed an autopsy. He found that the victim’s wounds were inflicted post-mortem, and the actual cause of death was due to an overdose consistent with the drugs the necromancer was using on his victims. Anyone want to connect the dots?”
An uncomfortable murmuring followed as the various guilds conferred among themselves.
Yulia raised a hand. When she stood, there was a clear handprint bruise around her throat, and her voice was raspy. “Myrddin was probably already searching for a necromancer. Part of the reasoning for his actions at region six was to acquire leverage for when he found one. He likely cut a deal with the real necromancer and killed one of the hostages as a scapegoat.”
“Jesus Christ. He already had a region’s worth of cores at that point.” Someone muttered.
“Who would be capable of something like that?”
“This is disturbing and disquieting.” The LRE woman said, rubbing the bridge of her nose. “But if you’re experienced as you say, and he still managed to elude your suspicions, I’m how the rest of us are supposed to identify him.
“That’s a fair question. To answer it simply, power has limits. I highly doubt Myrddin conceals his appearance at all times. Which is why I called in a favor and had my colleague work up a profile.”
There was a rustling of paper, as two stoic-looking users at either side of the conference room began to distribute handouts. An uneasiness grew in my gut as the papers grew closer and closer, each person reading them.
Miles clicked to a bullet point slide. “We’re looking for a caucasian male. Age range between eighteen and thirty. Disadvantaged socioeconomic background, despite being highly educated. It follows that he’s mostly self-taught. Charismatic, but not necessarily in a way that makes him stand out. Exceptionally manipulative. Unlikely to form close platonic or romantic attachments. Generally, ruthlessness and an absence of moral compass goes hand in hand with these types, but you already know he’s shrewd and exquisitely deceptive. He’ll likely be going out of his way to conceal these aspects when he’s blending in. But they may bleed through when he’s pressed hard enough.”
My world began to spin, and I forced myself to take slow, steady breaths.
“It’s far more likely that he seats himself adjacent to powerful figures and institutions, rather than in a place of direct leadership, and has a tendency to show up at the right place at the right time, which will likely appear to be nothing more than happenstance.”
He knows. I’m fucked.
I reined in the panic strand by strand. Miles didn’t know anything definitively. Couldn’t know. Half a dozen people in this room alone probably fit that profile. However, our conversation hadn’t been a coincidence. He must have already realized that I shared some characteristics, though not necessarily how perfectly he’d pigeonholed me.
If I panicked now, it’d be all the confirmation he needed.
“It’s unlikely he’s an existing guild mate or member. Reiterating what Tyler said, as far as we’re aware, the roster system is for the moment iron-clad. There are Users who can shield their true class from other Users with identification abilities—“ there was a shocked gasp that went over the room. Apparently, that nugget of information wasn’t widely known yet. “—But none that we know of that can supersede guild rosters. If you know something we don’t, feel free to step forward.”
No one did. There was a natural pause, though, and I decided to use it to my advantage. I raised my hand.
Miles raised an eyebrow as he pointed to me, a small smirk playing at the side of his mouth. A silent challenge.
“And if we suspect someone of being Myrddin, what then? This profile casts a wide net. I’m sure you have some sort of plan in mind, considering what could happen if you don’t.”
Miles cocked his head at me, then looked back towards the crowd. “Matt raises a keen insight. As expected from the newly minted savior of Region Fourteen.” I found myself to suddenly be the focal point in of the room, as people glanced at me and whispered to each other. “Make no mistake, we need to handle this issue as soon as possible. If the Ordinator did, in fact, use the chaos of the event as cover for what happened to Region Six, it’s likely he’ll do something similar when the next event rolls around. Having an amped up necromancer in his pocket only exacerbates the threat. However, this is all theoretical. No one has seen Myrddin’s face. The last thing we need right now is for this to devolve into a witch-hunt.” He met my eye again. “If there is someone you suspect to be Myrddin, do not confront them directly. Simply log whatever information you have about the person, and forward it to my colleague. Please don't hesitate to add him on your social tab.”
The clicker made an audible noise, and the slide displayed a name in large text. Avinash Raju. “He’ll be first on the list.”
“And what do you intend to do with him?” The woman from the LRE asked. “I don’t mean to be callous, but these are desperate times. Someone with the power to level an entire region could be extremely useful, if they were brought to heel.”
An opportunist. I made a mental note to get her name from Kinsley later.
“Apprehension is the priority if we’re able to do so safely. That being said, we’re not going to take any chances.” Miles answered. “The adventurer’s guild has a method of power suppression, and the ability to confirm that an individual is, indeed, the person we’re looking for.” He glanced back at Tyler uncertainly. “However, the latter can only be used sparingly. So, we want to be sure before going that route.”
My focus dimmed as Tyler and Miles fielded more questions from the crowd, and I considered my next move.
