CHAPTER 9

Rue Disappears

 

 

They come out of The Dome, and his communicator signals a voice message, which a quick glance reveals Kia called. He did not find an opportunity to call her.

The group begins to disperse. They walk down the hall, and she leans over to him and asks, “Are you going to contact her?” The expression on her face and the cocked eyebrow indicate the correct answer is NO.

“She left a message and asked me to contact her. I need her to help me get through World History, and she requires my tutoring to pass Micro Mathematics.”

“Whatever…” she says, as she turns and goes in the opposite direction at a brisk pace.

“I thought we planned to get some ka…” Jadan’s voice trails off as he realizes she is gone.

Relo glances at him with sympathy and says, “Women are complicated, and so are affairs at work.” The underlying tone of Relo’s voice is—why didn’t you realize the implications? “You come with me, and we’ll go to the Opaque Frat House and get a sample drawn for the blood test. Let’s get done before the day turns to total chaos. You do and I’ll get the formal invitation prepared.”

Rue is fuming when she opens the door to her room. She cannot believe her eyes. Someone broke in and ransacked the place. Horror replaces her immediate anger, and her emotions go spiraling out of control again. She needs his arms around her and his commitment and support. She scans the room and finds two of her data recorders missing. Her thoughts race as she tries to recall what is on them. Do they contain anything incriminating—then she remembers.

They part company, and he dials Kia, hoping to catch her before she leaves for class. The communicator buzzes once and she says, “I suffered waiting for you to call. I missed you. When can I meet you—what’ve you been doing—?” She rambles on.

“Wait a minute—wait a minute.” He tries to get control of the conversation. “Where’re you now?”

“I just left my room headed to my first class—why?” she asks.

“Do you think I can convince you to cut your first couple of classes? I want to be with you.”

“Okay—uuh—meet me at the Student Social.”

“How about I meet you at your apartment?”

“Okay, but give me an hour to straighten up. I didn’t expect a guest, and I overslept this morning.”

“I need to talk with you now, and I promise not to do an inspection of your quarters. Okay?”

“I’ll be home when you arrive and leave the door unlocked—come on in.”

He runs across the courtyard. His mind is in chaos—the bugs—Rue—Opaque—Kia. How many things can he juggle? He arrives and finds the door unlocked—he eases inside. “I’m here.” He walks to the center of the room.

“I’ll be out in a second—take a seat.”

Jadan elects to stand and nurse the nervous sensation in his stomach. He waits with apprehension for her to appear.

She does and she is ravishing. She pulled her blond hair back and secured it behind her left ear with an azure ribbon. Her long-sleeve shirt is a shade of blue that highlights her eyes and unbuttoned low enough to show some cleavage. Dark shading above her eyes further accentuates them. She applied a hint of beige to her pale, flawless cheekbones and hot pink to her lush lips. Her dark-blue skirt is snug making her shape more noticeable, and the above knee design allows him to evaluate her beautiful and shapely legs for the first time. She is barefoot.

They walk toward each other and meet half way.

“You don’t go to class dressed like this?”

Kia does not answer. She responds with a flirtatious giggle.

He places his hands around her back at her waist and pulls her to him. They stand and gaze into one another’s eyes until he bends over and kisses her with passion. She melts into his arms and reciprocates. The excitement rages and they begin to nibble the other’s lips and tongue. Jadan’s hands are massaging her back and shoulders. He slips his hands down her back to her hips. She reaches behind and restrains him. A few seconds later, she releases them and places her hands behind his head. He can sense the increasing pressure on their kiss as she pulls him to her…

 

Jadan is lying on his back with her on his left shoulder. She is on her side with her fingers tracing zigzag patterns on his chest, face, and neck. Her finger circles the scar on his chin and then moves to the one on his cheek. “How did you get these?” she whispers.

 

MASTA BHRIL’S OFFICE

 

He paces the floor as he reads the latest progress review from The Dome. Lack of progression would be more appropriate. The pressure is mounting, and to his chagrin, the Federation Party is demonstrating a hands-off stance. The project is political, volatile, and he needs a scapegoat.

Kahnn betrayed him. His long-time friend permitted the job site to get out of control and failed to inform him. Betta allowed the chancellor to blind-side him.

His relationship with Connee is icy to say the least. He holds suspicions, because he does not understand the change in their relationship. Perhaps I spent too much time with the political campaign. He is alone—and abandoned.

His assistant buzzes. “Yes?”

“Dr. Marshon is here to talk to you, sir.”

“Send him in.”

The door opens, and he enters. The expression on his face tells him something is wrong. Trying to lighten the mood, he stands and approaches him. “To what do I owe the pleasure, Doctor? Please, take a seat.”

The doctors reconsider and decide for Marshon to meet alone.

“You asked me to form a team and go to The Dome to try to resolve the problem of the missing data.” He stares with intensity into his eyes. “The effort caused hardships on my staff, students, and me, but I agreed to do as you asked. My group was working with diligence trying to determine what may be an impossible situation, and I assumed you selected me because you believe me to be competent and most of all, truthful.”

“Yes—I chose you because I trust you are knowledgeable, capable, and yes, trustworthy. What’s this about?”

“Who placed listening devices in my room at The Dome as well as the rooms of my students? The chancellor summoned Dr. Bilden to come to the job site and evaluate the timing to replace all the documentation. His room got violated too.”

“You mean to tell me your room is bugged?” He appears to be shocked.

“Yes, my room contains surveillance apparatuses.

Silence prevails as Marshon waits for him to respond, and Bhril tries to make sense of the situation.

He realizes his problems are more serious than he thought. “I assure you. I'm unaware of bugs in the rooms, but I’ll get answers. How did you find them?”

“One of my students found them.”

“Which one…?”

“I’ll not reveal the student’s name, but I’ll tell you the room at The Dome got plundered. To make matters worse, someone ransacked her apartment on campus, and two personal recording devices disappeared.”

“They contained information I assume?”

“The student didn’t say.”

“You better find out…”

“The content of the recorders isn’t important. Why are we being spied on?”

“I’m not sure—I assure you. I’m not involved, but I’ll do what I can to find out.” The chancellor is at it again. “I want you to go back to the project and continue work as if nothing happened. Be careful what you say.”

“NO, SIR—my team and I aren’t going back to The Dome. I fear for my safety and the well-being of my students. I’m through with the venture—you’ll need to get someone else.

“Will you reconsider if I provide undercover bodyguards for you and your group?”

“No.”

 

KAAMREN’S HOUSE

 

Lee and Kaamren finish dinner and put the baby to bed. They plan a quiet romantic evening with a carafe of Premium Vino. The bottle is a rare and expensive vintage they saved since their unification. A fire burns in the fireplace, and gentle music plays from speakers placed at strategic locations around the room. A candle flickers on the table in front of the sofa. He grasps the corkscrew and opens the bottle pouring a glass for each. He reaches for the remote control and begins to dim the lights. The mood is perfect. He turns the music down a bit, puts his hands behind Lee’s head, and pulls her to him with gentleness. Their lips meet and—the communicator buzzes.

“I thought you turned the thing off.”

“Let the call go to messaging,” he whispers as he nibbles on her ear. Moments later, the beep sounds as the message begins to record. Both listen.

Rogg Jasen speaks without identifying himself. “Rue is in grave danger. We need to get her to a safe haven now, but I can’t find her, and she isn’t answering her calls. I used the locator system at the ministry, but I’m still unable to locate her PIC. Either she masked—” Click. The recorder times out.

They exchange puzzled glances.

“What’s she gotten into?”

“She found some listening devices in her room at The Dome. She told Marshon and checked his room. She found bugs in the rooms of the others. Then she and the doctor got stupid and destroyed the items in his and Bilden’s quarters. The next day while they worked, someone let themselves into her room and rummaged through all her things.” He reaches for his glass and takes a sip. “Back at campus, she found someone ransacked her apartment and stole two recorders.”

“What’s on them?”

“The contents are unknown.”

“Who do you think bugged the team?”

“Assume I'm given three guesses… Jerka, Jerka, and Jerka. We’re sure he ordered a ‘Dirt Dig’, but we acquired no information of who is on the list, but we are sure who is at the top.”

“What does the chancellor hope to gain from all this?”

“He wants revenge and control—in that order.”

“We need ideas where she might be?”

“I don’t, but I need to make several calls now to alert Opaque and, without exception, The Conversant and The Commission. Anyone seeing her must get her out of sight.” Reality is sinking in, and Kaamren’s concern is obvious to Lee.

He activates the communicator and waits.

“Hello.”

“Call me back on the encrypted line.” He hangs up.

Moments later, Kaamren answers on the speaker. “Jaan, a serious problem presented itself. I received information from Jasen telling me Rue’s in danger. He’s been trying to locate her but can’t find her. Her PIC is masked. Hit the secured network with the facts. Anyone who sees her, get her out of sight, and let me know at once.”

He turns to her with a frown on his face and whispers, “Well, that puts a chill on the evening, and I can do nothing now but wait.”

 

Two days pass and still no Rue. Jadan tried without success to reach her unaware she is missing. He is on his way to Dr. Marshon’s for a briefing. The team failed to talk since he met with Bhril.

He walks in and scans the room. Everyone is present except her. “Is she coming?”

“I hope so,” the doctor says. “Like you, she missed the follow-up two days ago.”

“I hate to be the one to bring the bad news, but she’s missing,” Relo says.

“What do you mean?”

“She’s gone,” he says. “When we returned from The Dome, she found someone ransacked her apartment… she didn’t take the intrusion well, and she got upset. She didn’t give any indication she intended to go anywhere.”

“The same when she called me. Did any of you meet or communicate with her in the last two days?” Marshon asks.

They exchange glances, and all shake their heads.

“Do any of you speculate where she might be? This is serious. Is she close to anyone—friends with whom she might be? Where’s her family?”

“Rue’s an orphan. Her parents abandoned her as an infant, and she has no knowledge of them. Many believe her to be the result of an unplanned pregnancy, and her mother refused to acknowledge or submit to the mandatory abortion. She lived in a series of foster homes. I’m no doubt her closest friend, except perhaps Jadan,” Relo says.

All eyes turn to him. “I didn’t talk to her after our meeting when we returned from The Dome. We parted company because I made her angry.”

“What upset her?” Surtat asks.

“Personal…”

“A lover’s spat I bet,” says Kraymer.

Written in the Articles, termination of illegal pregnancies takes place up to the point of natural birth. However, once born, the child lives, but severe punishments await the parents.

“They found Rueef behind a large planter inside the Emergency Entrance to the Bozza Provincial Hospital. She appeared to be about ten days old. Her mother dressed her in a beautiful handmade gown and matching bonnet. She wrapped her in a quilt made of the same fabric,” Relo says. “To give her a good start in life, her mother ensured she got the health promoting colostrum. An emotional handwritten note pinned to the garment said, ‘please, take care of my little girl.’” Jadan’s queasiness and fear overcome him.

Rue may well have had a jealous tirade. It’s not like her to walk away from a challenge, but someone might have kidnapped her.

“If any of you find or talk to her call me at once,” he says. “Will you accompany me to her apartment? I’m acquainted with the manager, and he’ll let us in. We can search for evidence of foul play without which security won’t accept a Missing Person Report for ten days. She’s an adult.”

Relo turns to him and says, “They abducted her.”

“They…who?”

“Whoever’s been bugging our rooms? I suspect we’ve been under surveillance for some time and no doubt, still are. I’m worried about her. Some bad people may be holding her considering all that’s happened.” He contacts Marshon to update him.

“Hello.”

“We left Rue’s room. She went home after our return from The Dome. She called you and me and told us about someone trashing her room. Almost at once, after those calls, someone locked her apartment. Jadan and I went in the last time. Her clothes appear to be in place, and her communication device is on the desk, but she left without a trace. We’re afraid she’s been kidnapped,” Relo says.

“Come right over and don’t talk to anyone. I’ll call Bilden and the others. They can come over also. We must develop some plans. I’m concerned. We're all in danger.” A quiver in Marshon’s voice reinforces his fear.

They hurry through the underground walkway to his office.

“The rest should be here soon,” the doctor says. “First, tell me again what you found at her apartment. Did you find signs of a struggle?”

“Hard to say for sure, since someone ransacked the place. I’m not sure we could tell if a fight took place,” Jadan says. “What’s going on? I’m frightened.”

“I am too,” says the doctor. “I’m not sure what’s happening. This might be easier if I did. I wasn’t able to tell if Bhril lied or not. He seemed sincere when he denied any knowledge of what happened. He appeared surprised and angered when I confronted him about the bugs. I don’t think he knew.”

“What are we going to do about Rue?” Relo asks.

“I’m not sure. Joanz, the Director of the Ministry of Law and Order, is in the pocket of the Jerka. Involvement by the chancellor in connection with the surveillance and spying, he will be no help at all. In fact, he’ll be an obstacle. We need to find someone in the government we can trust—but who…?”

“I might be aware of someone,” Relo says. “I’ll do some follow up and ask if the individual’s willing to assist.”

“Who are you thinking about?”

“Can’t say. I’ll need to get need to get permission from the individual before I reveal a name—sorry, sir.”

“I understand. The person might be putting himself in grave danger.”

 

Several hours of intense and often emotional discussion pass, and the team and the doctor failed to develop a satisfactory plan. In desperation, he decided to make another visit to Bhril’s office. He says to the students, “I want you to go with Kraymer and help him with his work on the organic circuits. I’ll send for you later.”

“Why bother?” Jadan asks.

“Safety is in numbers. From this point until further notification, we’ll stay with each other as a unit, for security. We can’t be abducted if we’re together. I manage a conference suite in my department to house visiting faculty members from other universities. The facility contains a bathroom, three bedrooms, a meeting room, and a kitchenette. I’ll order food brought in for a seminar. The time is here for a lengthy staff discussion with several of my professors from Southern Bozza University.” A hint of humor lightens Dr. Marshon’s mood. “At 1500 hours, I want you to accompany one another to your apartments. Fetch clothing and toiletries for five days. Furthermore, bring your computers and any documentation or notes from The Dome. Make Kraymer’s apartment your last stop and wait until I call—come straight here.”

“Can we make our family and friends aware where we’ll be?” asks Surtat.

“No—you should tell them you’ll be away for at least five days, and you’ll be out of communicator range—nothing more. Your stay here is secret. Relo, when you guys leave his apartment. You're responsible for making sure no one follows you. I’m not sure how you’re going to accomplish the task, but somehow I believe you can.” He and Rue are part of something bizarre. They are exceptional, skilled, and wise in areas of mystery and intrigue.

 

BHRIL’S OFFICE

 

“I’m sorry, but Masta Bhril isn’t receiving anyone today. He’s instructed me to keep his agenda clear. You must make an appointment and come back later.” The aide turns away and shuffles papers.

“Ma’am, I don’t mean to be rude, but we’re going to meet with him if we’re forced to break the door down. I hope you understand the urgency of this visit.”

The agitated assistant presses the intercom. “The doctors are here for a conversation with you. I told them you didn’t want to be disturbed, but they’re threatening to smash down the door. What shall I do?”

“Send them in.”

They march into the office and slam the door. “One of my students is missing, and I want information if you’re involved.”

“Perhaps she decided to take a trip.”

“I didn’t say she. Come clean, and tell us where she is. I’m telling you—nothing better happen to her.” Veins are protruding on the red face of Marshon.

“Did I say she?” He retracts “An automatic expression—I can say he or they. I am unaware of a missing student. Why do you think someone abducted her?”

“She disappeared more than two days ago. She left her communicator in her room, and all her clothes appear to be in place. Earlier, she called to tell me someone broke into her room, ransacked the place, and stole two recorders. All we can say is she vanished, and evidence indicates she didn’t leave on her own,” he says. “She is a member YOUR project, Bhril. I expect your full cooperation in getting her back.”

“I’ll make some calls and determine what I can find out. What’s he doing here?”

“I’ll tell you. I went to The Dome in good faith to resolve some major problems. I received threats and treatment like a petty criminal, and I don’t intend to take more. I want to tell you first hand—I’m through at the project before I started.” Dr. Bilden’s anger escalates.

“You asked us to go back if you provided undercover bodyguards. The answer is not NO, but HELL NO,” says Marshon.

 

AN ISOLATED LOCATION

 

They escort him to a room with concrete walls, a single door, and no window. On one side of the room are a table, two chairs, and a spotlight. On the other, is a solitary chair, to which they tied him, and the light is shining straight into his face. He realizes two individuals sit at the table, but he cannot make out their faces because of the glare.

“Mr. Kahnn,” a man with a deep voice says, “we’re going to ask you a few questions, and you’re going to give us correct answers. This should be a painless process, but that’s up to you.”

The second man says, “The chancellor’s quite upset about the disrespect you showed him when you stormed into his office spouting warnings. He sends several messages. One, this session never happened—don’t make yourself appear foolish by saying the contrary. Two, he didn’t appreciate the disrespectful comments—uuh—innuendos you made about his relatives. Three, you’ll tell us what you think you learned that’ll embarrass him or his family. Four, he wants dirt on Bhril, and you’re going to be the source.”

“You go to hell—and take the chancellor with you.” Betta yells across the room. Moments later, an electric shock causes every force in his body to react. He jumps with such violence him and the chair fall backward.

“Point one, do you understand this meeting never took place?” the man with the deep voice asks.

He does not respond at once. A few seconds of silence, and the man administers another jolt. Kahnn’s muscle contractions are so violent he slides about a meter across the floor.

“Do you comprehend this little get together never took place?”

His vision is blurred, and his ears are ringing as he fades into a semi-conscious state.

“I guess we need to give him a little time to think the situation through,” says the second man, “Let’s get a drink.”

 

Betta boarded the MagnaTranz on his way home from work, and the two men approached from the rear, one on each side. One man pressed a sharp object against his back, the other whispered, “Don’t turn around. Keep your mouth shut, and you won’t be hurt. One shout and your left kidney will get ventilated—clear?” the man asked in a whisper.

He nods.

The three exit the train at the next stop, and as they walk away, a hood drops over his head. They shove him into an awaiting AeroBus and drive him quite a distance. They made so many turns, and he loses his orientation. They park at what he believes to be a vacant warehouse from the echoes as they move about.

 

He begins to recover and realizes the critical nature of his dilemma. I’m going to die if I don’t do what these thugs say. They’ll kill me if I do cooperate. I must escape—that’s my lone hope—but how?

He analyzes how the ropes intertwine, but footsteps are in the corridor. They stop at the door, and the sound of metal keys in the lock echoes in the cell. The door opens, and the men return.

“Appears to me the last shock put him under,” says deep-voice. “Get some cold water and let’s wake him up.” He leaves, and deep voice raises him and the chair to the upright position. Feigning unconsciousness, he slouches in the seat. With his head hanging down, he opens his eyes in a squint viewing the man’s feet. The man is huge he decides and is wearing a pair of custom-made dress boots polished to a high sheen. A unique decorative metal emblem adorns the outside of each at the ankle.

The man returns with a bucket of water. He begins pouring the ice-cold water on the back of Betta’s neck. Determined not to move, he realizes life-or-death rides on his ability to endure the chill. Deep voice grabs a handful of hair and lifts his head. His eyes are open. His pupils rolled back in their sockets, and saliva runs from one corner of his mouth. The man shakes his head back and forth and side to side. In frustration, he slams his head forward, and his chin hits his chest hard enough to make his neck pop, but he remains limp and appears unconscious.

“Damn, the last electric charge may’ve been too much. The chancellor will bust our asses if kill him,” The man with the deep voice says.

“Let’s go get some dinner, and give him time to recover. We’ll tell him he died trying to escape, and we atomized the body—uuh evidence.”

He listens as the two men turn off the lights and lock the door. He shivers as the cool air hits his wet body. Fate provides an unexpected effect. The water soaked into the rope’s fabric, and the fibers begin to relax and stretch. He works with fervor until he gets enough slack to slip one hand free. In a matter of seconds, he frees himself, turns on the light, and stands for a time waiting for the circulation to return to his hands and feet. Betta walks over and attempts to open the door with no success. The heavy-metal door was dead bolted from outside. A survey of the room reveals no way out. He must attack the two men when they return. He finds no other way—but how?