Chapter 6: 05: INFECTED

The war room where Arbiter Kip Madsen held the guild review exuded a solemn air, and the company leaders of the Hunter’s Guild matched the serious mood. Madsen ran the seven directors and their guildmaster, Admiral Heywood, ragged for ten solid hours. The stiff cushions of their seats provided little comfort. Elias rarely interacted with the other guild members during the year, but shared a grudging camaraderie with them during scathing Union reviews.

General Olet wasn’t present, though Elias felt Olet’s influence through Madsen’s overbearing handling. Instead of focusing on the destruction of hunter warehouses by hidden enemies, Madsen pressed Elias to review Silatem’s entire operating history since the start of his tenure at age 21. Even with that detour, Madsen assured them that ten hours instead of twelve was excellent time.

The best part of the day came from the rare but welcome glances of Rose Desjard, who sat in a tiered row within the observation deck. Surrounded by light keyboards and projections, the equipment cast her sultry features in a luminescent glow. Every so often she’d pause her work and offer Elias a furtive smile. The attention alleviated a few seconds of his misery.

“You lost control of your facilities, that much is clear.” The arbiter’s delivery turned blunt, his own patience seeming as extended as the guild members. An animated graph displayed a sharp upturn in their supply numbers. “46% rise in production requests over the past quarter, like you’re stockpiling weapons as fast as you ruin them.” Madsen gestured toward the data. The red initials DIF marked their destroyed-in-field ratios. “These numbers are public record, and our residents can see the killing power you store. Polls suggest they find your inventory alarming.”

Elias met Madsen’s gaze from across the war room table. He and the others provided valid evidence that the surge was out of their control, but Madsen still blamed them for the disarray. Elias regrouped persistence, reiterating what they’d already said.

“Your Honor.” His rough voice boomed in the quiet. “Our compounds were targeted in your sector, but you refuse to engage political crime. Seems you’re the one who’s lost control.”

Hodges, leader of domestic hunting company Veratec, joined in with a snort. He rubbed the dark growth bristling his jaw. “A thousand anti-war loons protested outside our locations. Coincidentally, our facilities were attacked days later. As Mr. Pendergast states, the answer's in your face. You won’t look.”

“I lost enough gear to train two thousand men. Those were for the Oasis Desert Guard, one of Silatem’s—and Union’s—greatest allies against wildland cults.” Elias tapped his fingers against the smooth surface of the table. “Thanks to our extensive supply network, we met our obligation, though I have zero confidence in Union security while these issues persist.”

A gruff man called Tota, the leader of Iron Shield, chimed in after. “I find the handling of this unacceptable, Arbiter. Our facilities are waiting bait. I refuse to get hit again.”

Elias pointed between himself and Madsen. “I’ll force action if needed. Your lack of urgency screams incompetence during a time of peace. That’s the last headline Union wants to battle over.”

Arbiter Madsen’s fingers skirted over the table’s light panel. He signaled for Rose to mark the accusation. She manipulated a keyboard as her dark gaze flitted to Elias.

“Complaint noted, Mr. Pendergast. MOJ’s aware of the brewing unrest. Anti-hunter sentiments escalated to vandalism, but that’s no reason to sue your ally. We launched investigations as soon as you reported the attacks. If you force the matter, you’ll face years of countersuits. Don’t waste Justice’s time.” He adjusted his sleeves with prim affect. “Our residents don’t care why you need to replace the weapons. All they see are the numbers, and those terrify them.”

Hodges slouched in his seat. “If residents knew half the shit we stopped from reaching Union—”

“Language, Director,” Madsen interrupted. “You’re on the clock. Decorum’s required.”

Hodges clenched his teeth, glaring holes through Madsen. “Fine, Your Honor.” He continued in a tight tone as Rose made notations on the outburst. “If residents were aware of…half the infectious outbreaks we stopped from reaching society, they’d call us heroes. Might even throw a parade. _‘Thank You’_ would be nice to hear sometimes.”

“Mr. Hodges, zero percent of that’s a ministry concern. Your sentiments are better suited in a company log, or a diary. Gentlemen—” Madsen’s attention skirted over the guild members. “There’s a jet waiting to take me to Capitol City, where I’ll present your dismal statistics to the trade council. That’s my Happy Harvest. I’d like to get on that jet today.”

Admiral Heywood, seated left of Madsen, rubbed his eyes after remaining silent during the exchange. “Please, Arbiter. Deliver your summary. We’ve reached a stalemate.” He scanned the men seated at the table. “Defense is ready to close, unless someone has something to add.”

“Good.” Madsen straightened in his seat, closing his projections. “Union’s raw materials can be put to better use than weapons of destruction. Your performance reflects in Defense statistics, which means you represent Union first. You’re expected to correct these ratios by Y-00.”

Elias coughed at the deadline. Madsen noticed his concealed chuckle.

“Mr. Pendergast?” Madsen flicked on his professional smile. “Something to add?”

Elias paused, inhaling the washed scent of polished wood in the war room. His thoughts skirted over the two hundred and fifty-seven thousand denizens who dedicated their lives to Silatem, forsaking other residencies. They depended on him to maintain their success, and every move of his had to be made in their best interest. However, the human part of Elias pushed against Madsen’s burden.

“Tell us how to correct the trends without addressing the problem.” Elias gestured at Madsen with a listless hand. “The people we’re meant to protect are attacking us. If we defend ourselves, someone might get killed. That scandal’s worse than our numbers.”

The leaders stirred at a warning that had remained unspoken. Director Jackson of Eagle Eye frowned, leaning back in his seat. “You can’t expect us to stay competent with your roadblocks. As guild members, we’re obligated to play by your rules, but this is senseless and dangerous.”

Millburn, director of Apex and seated adjacent to Jackson, nodded at his words. “We could end this today if MOJ had the guts. Union Intelligence knows who the culprits are. We can’t ignore extremists because they’re residents—we’ve been through this already. Haven’t we learned our lesson?”

Tota returned, shaking his head at the connection. “That damn flower-power group is behind this. What are they called? Monkshood.” He tapped his finger against his jaw. “They’re in the headlines every week, complaining we're not kind to the parasites. What’s next—demands to hire and suit up an infected bastard? Ridiculous.”

“Aye.” Calladan, seated beside Wallen and Yardley, nodded. All three ran the smallest and newest domestic arms of Northern’s hunter program, the guild recruits called Bloodhound, Nightstrike, and Citadel. Calladan’s ruddy face gleamed with light sweat despite the cooling fans in the war room. “Monkshood Militia—we caught them sneaking bots past our shields. Some kind of hazing process. They left burnt-up plants as a threat.”

Millburn’s glare narrowed from the other end of the table. “Monkshood’s not a house plant. It’s poison. These types are advertising what they are.”

Tota addressed the silent Madsen. “Your Honor, I’m sure Monkhood’s broken ordinances that Justice can investigate. Save everyone some trouble—and money.”

“No.” Madsen cut him off with curt speed. “Monkshood runs celebrated community centers from Northern to Central. The actions of several malcontents doesn’t allow you to hassle a legitimate movement.”

“What’s next, Your Honor?” Heywood’s heavy brows lowered as yet another tense disagreement brewed. “We guarantee help when guild members suffer in Union. It’s why they bother to form companies and follow our rules.”

“You know the process.” Madsen ran a hand through his combed hair with visible exhaustion, a satisfying sight for Elias. He should feel as exerted as the rest. “It’s not as simple as breaking down a door and beating everyone in sight. We’ll solve this according to law.” He struck his gavel against the war table’s platform, calling an end to the meeting. His beady stare trailed over the faces of the executives. “Do what’s necessary to prevent another of these reviews.”

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

Millburn laughed with sour jest at Madsen’s advisement. “No problem. We’ll let parasites infect the slums and look the other way for a while. Clean house afterward. That’d justify our increases.”

“Barbarous.” Madsen scoffed at Millburn’s dark humor. “I’ll take that tasteless joke as a product of stress. Another show of mercy.” He waved his finger in a circle, signaling for Rose to end her part of the ordeal. She flicked off her tools at once and stood to gather her items. “I don’t know the details of how your kind operates, but remember—your partnership with Union can never tarnish our intergalactic mission. We may be lost in this vast universe and lost for good, but Union still represents our home planet. We’re the pride of Earth. Best of luck while you search for solutions. Good day.”

The arbiter exited through the sliding doors. Rose followed with her bags, glancing at the hunters. Elias followed her departure until she disappeared and rubbed his jaw, mind churning in multiple directions. He turned toward the other executives who were barking at Heywood.

“Horseshit!” That was Millburn, and Calladan followed next.

“You won’t do anything, will you?” Calladan scowled, straightening his guild pin. “You’re protecting Union first. That’s why they assigned you that seat.”

“Fix this, Admiral.” Yardley pointed at Heywood. “I want Nightstrike to make it past Y-One-K.”

“Gentlemen.” Heywood held up a hand to slow their avalanche. “You deserve a settlement for your losses. That’s not in dispute. CDPD can’t handle the rabid threat alone and with RedSect growing every year, you’re necessary to Union security. I’ll make sure your value’s recognized. For now, keep moving.”

Tota folded his arms, pattering a dry laugh. “So, eat shit, you mean.”

Heywood sighed. “I don’t like it either.”

Hodges anchored a sedasig in his mouth, surveying the other guild members. Smoke filtered from his nose and mouth. “Happy Harvest, lads. Fuck this.”

Heywood stepped aside to allow Hodges and the others to leave. Elias also separated from the group, and the lights from outside washed the men in a fluorescent glow as they exited. Once they were gone, Heywood sealed the room and approached. Elias acknowledged the change in format with a nod.

“El.” The admiral dropped formality, stepping into the identity symbolized by the black shield. “Hunt in your region. Strict discretion, Alpha-5.”

Elias scowled. Alpha-5—the simplest case of parasite control. Calling the target infected was more bureaucracy than actual danger. “Don’t tell me that, Shawn. You promised intel, and offer entry-level pest control. Silatem might be suspended, but I’m not desperate.”

Heywood interjected. “I classed this operation that way to avoid attention. Alpha to avoid excess oversight, 5 to shield you in case of escalation. Give me credit.” A glimpse of the admiral’s joviality returned. “How often have we walked this road?”

Elias gestured for Heywood to continue. “I’m listening.”

“I’ll bonus you myself to make the numbers look right. Bend every friendly ear to lift your suspension.” Heywood’s stare remained unbroken. “Tells you how serious I am.”

“All right.” Elias and Heywood shook hands. “Intel transfer logged. We’re official. Brief me on the host.”

“Case isn’t from UIA.”

He heightened with surprise at the reply. “Oh?”

“Client’s Home Base.”

“Home Base?” Elias paused. The CDPD administrative wing—he felt tempted again to walk away. Assignments from Home Base were a pain to manage due to Civil Defense’s tedious rules.

“I don’t do maid service for cops. Give this to one of your Union arms.” He gestured at the door “Yardley’s hungry for new assignments, and CDPD prefers domestics anyway since they’re residents.”

“I’m hiring you because I trust you. This one’s a matter of Union security, and I know you’ll remain impartial.”

Elias screwed his face at the thought of the police force in blue interacting with his hunters. “Why Home Base? They’re not related to guild business outside of contracted hunts. Usually, we’re the one’s tailing their lead on investigations, and they’re holding tight to their details.”

“CDPD suffered the same attacks as the guild. Their losses are being buried by Defense superiors.”

“Ha. The general’s branch is blocking Civil from acting.” Elias nodded as thoughts swarmed. “Madsen made it seem like only hunters suffered.”

“That’s all he’s cleared to discuss. Everyone’s ordered to stay quiet, and it’s easier to blame a scapegoat than risk causing mass panic.”

Elias remained cold at the quick change of details. “Someone on our side’s involved if the ministries are pulling rank.”

“Interesting take.” Heywood’s expression blanked. “Confirmation would clear up this issue, so I need verifiable data to present to MOJ. Are we clear?”

“Clear.”

“Excellent.”

Elias glanced at his COM, tempted to shove his own investigation into motion despite the suspension. “Monkshood might still be involved since they’re active while this is happening.”

Heywood clasped his hands together. “I’m sure you’ll find something we can review.”

“Tell me everything.

A map projected from Heywood’s COM that highlighted a spray of locations in Northern. “Home Base discovered three ambushes over the past ten years. One hit happened last month, which coincides with our troubles this quarter. Home’s willing to make this about hunting parasites for results.” His shrewd gaze lingered on Elias. “You’ll handle this.”

“Aye.”

“Service weapons went missing during the blasts, and investigators found only structural debris. Someone deactivated the alarms without a signature, which requires high level supervisory access. Home Base found security footage looping the same thirty seconds on review. Assignment patterns led to a potential insider. UIA needs you to pay him a visit.”

Elias absorbed the information with a distant stare. A gleaming metal falcon, Union’s crest, hovered above the war table as if watching them. His oldest role as a covert killer for Union Intelligence, one he’d held for as long as he could grasp a weapon, resurfaced in Heywood’s implicit command. “I don’t hunt humans anymore, Shawn. This sounds like a setup. I’m president, with a company to think about, one that hunts rabid bloodsuckers. How’s this about parasites?”

“He’s infected.” Heywood’s statement echoed in the war room. “You’re not cornering a human, technically.”

“He’s infected?”

“Aye. Pinged our radars. His headcount belongs to a hunter. That hunter is you.”

Elias rubbed his jaw. “What’s his stage?”

“One. He flagged while passing a discreet shield. Let’s visit him while he’s got his faculties.”

“Stage One.” Elias frowned. “Mostly human. Bet he doesn’t know he’s infected, and indulges in biters. He’ll be a weird one.”

“We’ll tackle this head-on.”

Elias glanced at his COM, acknowledging Heywood’s transmission. “What else?”

“Name’s Willem Grimley, a senior security analyst for CDPD Northern. He oversees surveillance records for the territory with notable A-level access. The drain of supplies was gradual, hidden within reported damages.” Heywood chuckled. “More of a whimper than the bang these criminals used to hide the crimes.”

“Grimley. Piece of shit.” Elias grit his teeth as he sifted through the details of Heywood’s map. “Get my suspension lifted. I need full access to my records. If I find out Union supervisors are involved in my losses, this’ll go straight to Olet’s desk. Maybe I’ll make an appearance, too.”

Heywood clasped his hands behind his back. “Let’s stop the flow of weapons and sniff out Grimley’s partners.”

“Will I need a squad?”

“You’re enough on your own, but you can bring a mission navigator to streamline gathering samples. An extra muzzle always helps, while a standby vessel provides a clean exit. I’ll authorize all the above.”

Elias shook hands with Heywood again to launch the start of the hunt. Heywood clasped Elias on the shoulder.

“Time your arrival for when Grimley gets home. He’ll be easier to surprise.”

Elias detached his mind, preparing for action. “Yep.”

“You might make it to your mother’s fundraiser if this goes well. The young priestess sings at the tail end, and she’s got a stunning voice like Kazrut. It’ll be a treat.”

“Right.”

Elias removed a sedasig from his jacket, staying behind in the war room after Heywood left to enjoy the burn of synthetic chemicals. The formulas hit much milder than the real bites he’d suffered on the field.

Secretary Rose waited in the shadows when he exited after his private moment. He heard the click of her heels when she appeared.

“You, again.” His demeanor was stiff, since more important matters weighed on his mind. “Can’t get enough.”

“You’d think that.” She chuckled softly. “You’d say that.”

“Slow down, Ms. Desjard. I lose interest fast.”

“I arrived before you; I’ll leave after you. I’m authorized to be in this space, like you.”

Elias wagged his finger. “Not authorized to be in my space.”

“Is there a difference?”

“Yes.”

She lowered her gaze, and her dark lashes brushed against her cheeks.

“I apologize. I crossed your boundaries again.”

“You did. And my opinion of myself is perfect.” Elias exhaled smoke. “It’s why you’re here.”

“You’re so clever.”

Elias glanced at the shadowed hall that led to the lift. “Thought you and ol’ Kippy were desperate to leave.”

“He exaggerated.” Rose toyed with the buttons of Elias’ jacket. “Kip’s annoying.”

“I bet.”

“Where are you off to?”

“Work.”

“Work?” She heightened with surprise. “Is that what you call your mother’s fundraiser?”

“Fuck.” He snorted. “You really are watching me.”

“She must have invited you. It’s an important milestone.”

“Don’t tell me you want to tag along.”

“God, no.” Rose snorted as well. “In public? Headlines screaming I’m your latest flavor aren’t a turn-on.”

“Sentiment goes both ways.”

Her tiny figure pressed against his as she nestled closer. “So this is about the warehouses. You hunters work fast. You, Elias, are the best.”

“I’ll repeat myself,” Elias said. “None of your fucking business. You’re way too interested in your job.”

“I admit I’m a go-getter, but I can take a hint.”

She lingered, and Elias thought of their encounter earlier that morning. He shrugged. “You’ve got time to kill.”

Rose nodded.

“Ten minutes. Quick.”

“Dirty.”

“Can you handle that?”

“I’ll bend you over something.”

“Great.” Her fingers grazed his waistband. “Where will you take me?”

Elias glanced at the row of offices shut for the holiday and guided her to an empty room. “Place is deserted. Here’s good.”

“Not worried about surveillance?” She looked at the ceiling as if searching for concealed bots. “Someone finding us?”

He touched her chin. “This is the penthouse, starlight. Special rules.”

“Ooh.” She cooed as he nudged her inside. “The penthouse. Bet you say that to all your women.”

“Prefer not to say anything.”

She snickered. “Let’s start that now.”

Elias leaned down, guiding her face to his, and she craned to meet him, arching in her heels. Rose Desjard, Arbiter Kip Madsen’s secretary, was the softest thing he touched for a while.