THE RING ACADEMY: The Disappearance, Part 6
VI. It All Goes AwryMalcolm
The kiss. Oh, damn. That kiss and the promise of what could go with it leached into Malcolm’s blood like fire. If he’d known - had imagined - he would have insisted on kissing Imogene way before this.
But he was the first to draw away because there were things Imogene didn’t know. He took a deep breath to clear his conscience, but it didn’t. And worse, he didn’t want to end that kiss just yet. He mapped her face, the pretty golden eyes with flecks of green he’d spent four years studying. The even olive skin with a tiny beauty mark above her lip, just to the right. Her heart shaped mouth which he knew had a smile that melted his heart when she did (though it wasn’t often). Her dark brows shifted over her eyes marking her confusion. He wanted to lean in and kiss her again, but she’d hate him for his lies of omission. He knew enough about her to know she would feel betrayed by his secret.
Malcolm stepped back, shoved his hands into his hair and turned away with another heavy sigh. “Stars,” he swore more to himself than aloud. “I’m sorry,” he said. “This is just too complicated.”
“Wait. What?” The sound of her voice now a part of the confusion.
He shouldn’t have kissed her. Shit. He shouldn’t have. It’s just he’d wanted to for so long. When she was mad at him and competing with him it was easier, but now that they’d found a place of peace, fighting his attraction for her was so much harder. He turned back toward her with the intent to plead with her and make her understand without revealing the truth. Not yet anyway. “I shouldn’t have. I mean - I’m not saying this right.” But Malcolm couldn’t get the words past the lump in his throat. She looked so shocked.
And embarrassed. He watched as her cheeks turned a becoming shade of pink. She crossed her arms as though reinforcing herself, as if she needed to protect her heart from him, and then turned away. “Oh. I see.”
“No. No, Ima,” he reached out for her. He urged her to turn and look at him, to see the truth about how he felt on his face, willed her to understand all the longing in his heart but didn’t have the ability to tell her yet, and hoped beyond all hope that when she did she wouldn’t hate him.
She jerked away from his touch. “Don’t.” Her eyes filled with tears and those, he knew, were enough to send her over the edge into not only loathing him but herself. If he knew anything about Imogene Sol, it was that she wasn’t weak, and tears to her were the ultimately display of weakness. Imogene hated to cry. She turned away.
“Ima, please,” Malcom pleaded to her back. “It isn’t what you think.”
Though as he tried to move her with his words, a shadow at the entry point of the covered mall drew his attention. A Federation officer - a high ranking Sirkuhl - walked toward them.
Both he and Imogene saluted the Sirkuhl.
Malcolm searched for his name. Lazzer. Lazzer. It rang a bell. A pretty loud one, in fact. What had his father told him on his last visit? Malcolm searched his memory. Something about old connections.
“At ease,” Sirkuhl Lazzer said. He moved to the seat across from where Malcolm and Imogene stood and sat down. Casually, he crossed his hands and his hands over his lap. It seemed strange to Malcolm - condescending and arrogant. The commander’s eyes moved from Imogene to Malcolm and then back to Imogene, his blue-eyed gaze intense. “I was under the impression that you didn’t get along.
“We don’t,” Imogene answered.
Malcolm refrained from any remark or facial expression. If he’d learned anything from his parents it was to know when to keep it neutral. Everything in his gut told him that right now with this commander, neutrality meant everything, though he couldn’t find the why in his memory.
“The group,” his father had told him, “needs your eyes on this Malcolm.” Group was code for the independent intelligence agency which his father and mother both secretly served on behalf of the people. Whereas the Federation - despite their claims - wasn’t always in line with the will of the star alliance, the IIA provided checks and balances, or hoped to in order to avoid another Dark War.
“She hates me,” he’d told his father.
“That’s beside the point. The mission is to secure her as an asset. The intelligence is that Sol is a target for something.”
“What?” Malcolm had asked him
“We don’t know, yet. Still trying to decipher and unravel the threads. Can you do it?”
Malcolm had agreed despite the conflict. He’d had a crush on her for years and didn’t reveal that to his father. It was stupid. All agents knew not to mix the job with what’s personal, and he’d done it on the first go.
Sirkuhl Lazzer scoffed at Imogene’s claim. “I’m sufficiently fooled then, Sol.” He stared at her and it unnerved Malcolm. It wasn’t the look of someone neutral but rather the look of someone one who knew something no one else did.
“I’m Sirkuhl Lazzer of the Fourth Order,” he told her announcing his name, rank and position.
The Fourth Order was the highest Law enforcement group in the Federation. And Lazzer the highest commanding officer in the order. While many officials watched the trials, this was the first to approach them. Was he recruiting them?
“I knew your father, Sol.”
Malcolm worked to keep his face impassive and focused on the greenery over the Sirkuhl’s shoulder. He knew Ima’s father? How? When?
“Forgive my impertinence, Sirkuhl,” Imogene stated her voice even and calm. “My father was a traitor.”
The man - narrow and wispy as a being, Malcolm thought - made a humming noise and nodded. “A shame really. I knew him from the Earth Omega Project before the Dark War.”
Old connections? Like his father mentioned.
“Look,” the Sirkuhl said and stood like a shot. “I’m not here for personal business or to catch up.” The sound of boots clomping against the pathway in the mall echoed through the tunnel.
Malcolm used his eyes to look past Imogene next to him at four Federation Police marching through the tunnel.
“This is a shame as well, but Imogene Sol, you are under arrest for the murders of Private third class Jorgie Mignon and Private second class Gayleen Fiord.”
That’s a pile of steaming bandon shit, Malcolm thought. Something was definitely wrong with this entire picture.
“What?” Imogene’s voice sounded shocked. “There must be a mistake. I don’t understand.”
Afraid she’d say something in her shock, Malcolm warned her. “Ima. Don’t say anything. Just Don’t.”
Sirkuhl Lazzer’s eyes beaded on him, as if to warn him into silence.
Malcolm couldn’t only wonder: Why was the highest ranking officer of the fourth order her, making an arrest of a first class cadet? This made no sense.
Sirkuhl stared at Imogene. “Both Mignon’s and Fiord’s remains were discovered outside of the Academy campus, along with evidence to link you, Sol, to the crime. You are being detained and tried by the Federation Tribunal in two weeks time. Anything you say can be used against you.”
An officer grabbed her arm roughly.
“Hey!” Malcolm wanted to jump in and fight, break the restraints, but he couldn’t help her if he was locked up. Now there was more to this puzzle except there were more moving pieces.
Lazzer’s eyes narrowed on him. “I suggest, Kade, that you stand down.” He turned back to Imogene. “You may contact representation for your hearing and if you can’t, then the Federation will provide you with one.”
She hung her head. Broken. It was the an Imogene that Malcolm hadn’t ever seen and his heart tore down the middle.
“Ima. I’m going to help,” he told her before they led her way from him.
Her eyes snapped open and she looked at him. She was still angry, or perhaps it was just hurt. “Don’t do me any favors,” she told him.
Lazzer chuckled. “Take her away,” he said.
Malcolm watched Imogene led away in restraints. The only way to help her was to prove her innocence.
Sirkuhl Lazzer studied him. “You are an up and comer, Kade. Glynn says you’d make an incredible addition to the Fourth Order.” He paused, and leaned back, his hands behind him. “But I know your family, Kade.”
“Sir?” he asked.
“You think your power and influence will be able to stop the Federation?”
“Sir? My family is proud supporters of the Federation. Both of my parents serve proudly in the Senate.”
Lazzer leaned forward right into Malcolm’s sphere of space. Malcolm didn’t move a muscle. “Yes.” He waited extra breaths just to remind Malcolm who was in charge, then said, “As you were,” turned on his toe and walked away.
Malcolm waited, paced in the mall for a good sixty seconds before he took off at a sprint. He need to find Tsua.
The kiss. Oh, the kiss was like a storm in the desert - a flash flood. Lightning flashing illuminating shadows and sizzling the world around them. Imogene hadn’t known, and if she had she would have insisted on kissing Malcolm way before this.
Malcolm drew away first, took a deep breath but didn't say anything. His dark eyes mapped her face and stopped at her lips. Imogene was sure he would kiss her again, wanted him to, but he stepped away, shoved both hands through his hair with a heavy sigh and turned away from her. “Stars,” he swore more on a breath than with the deep tone of conviction.
Confusion slapped Imogene. She touched her lips with her fingertips.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “This is just too complicated.”
“Wait. What?” His words weren’t connecting with the pace of her mind which was knee deep in the quicksand of the kiss. The residual electricity of the lightning strike still burning through her.
“I shouldn’t have. I mean - I’m not saying this right.”
This left Imogene with an assumption: he hadn’t been as affected by the kiss as she had been. This embarrassed her. She crossed her arms over her chest, stepped back and turned away from him. She faced the milsk blossoms and wished for a moment she could go back in time to when they looked prettier. Her face was hot with mortification. “Oh. I see.”
“No. No, Ima,” he grasped her elbow and tried to turn her to face him, but she jerked out of his hand.
“Don’t,” She said. Her eyes blurred with embarrassment and self recrimination. She knew better. She’d always known better. She had no wish to add to her shame. Malcolm represented everything in her world that wouldn’t work. He was male, first. Then he was from a powerful family. He had a name. Everything would come easy to him because of who he was. And everything in her life was like climbing uphill without reprieve. She’d known better than to nurture any feelings and she’d done it anyway.
“Ima, please,” Malcom pleaded from behind her. “It isn’t what you think.”
Movement drew her gaze. Standing at the entry point to the covered mall was a stranger walking toward them. His steps were slow and deliberate as if waiting, observing, spying (Imogene couldn’t be sure which) on what was happening between them. She wondered how much this figure - dressed in Federation Finery - had witnessed. He cleared his throat when he was a bit closer as if to warn them he was there, but it was a little too late.
She snapped to attention based on this stranger’s rank. “Sir.”
“Sir,” Malcolm echoed.
“At ease,” the older officer said and went to the bench where he sat. He crossed one leg over the other and set his hands in his lap as if out for a leisurely afternoon in the mall. Except he wasn’t because his human eyes danced between them assessing, curious, and something else Imogene attempted to identify. Contempt? “I was under the impression that you didn’t get along.”
“We don’t,” Imogene answered.
The commanding officer smirked. “I’m sufficiently fooled then, Sol.” He leaned forward just a touch and tilted his head.
She didn’t respond.
Neither did Malcolm.
“I’m Sirkuhl Lazzer of the Fourth Order.”
Imogene forced herself to remain still though every part of her wanted to collapse into a heap. The Fourth Order was the highest investigative group in the Federation. And this man was the highest ranking officer. Shit. Shit. Shit.
“I knew your father, Sol.”
Her eyes skipped to his face. He was about her father’s age, tall and lean. Narrow face though sort of handsome. His eyes were a piercing blue. She tried to adjust to the fact that this man was a high ranking officer in the Federation with her father, the rebel against the Federation. How would he know her father? “Forgive my impertinence, Sirkuhl, my father was a traitor.” It hurt to say it but was also necessary. She didn’t need anyone in the Federation questioning where her loyalties were.
The man made a humming noise and nodded. “A shame really. I knew him from the Earth Omega Project before the Dark War.”
She held her tongue. Before? Before her mother? Before she was born? How did two paths diverge?
“Look,” he said and stood so suddenly Imogene fought the urge to back up. “I’m not here for personal business or to catch up.” The sound of boots clomping against the pathway in the mall echoed through the tunnel. Imogene didn’t turn to look, remained still. “This is a shame as well, but Imogene Sol, you are under arrest for the murders of Private third class Jorgie Mignon and Private second class Gayleen Fiord.”
“What?” She stammered for the first time her body breaking its stance. “There must be a mistake.” She glanced at who was in the boots coming up the walkway, Federation Police with wrist cuffs and collar. “I don’t understand.”
“Ima. Don’t say anything,” Malcolm said. “Don’t.”
“Both Mignon’s and Fiord’s remains were discovered outside of the Academy campus, along with evidence to link you, Sol, to the crime. You are being detained and tried by the Federation Tribunal in two weeks time. Anything you say can be used against you.”
An officer grabbed her arm roughly.
“Hey,” Malcolm snapped.
Lazzer’s eyes stopped on him. “I suggest, Kade, that you stand down.” Then to Imogene. “You may contact representation for your hearing and if you can’t, then the Federation will provide you with one.”
Her wrists were bound.
Tears burned her eyes and as she closed them, tears she didn’t want started. Be stronger she coaxed herself. Be stronger, but she was so tired of being strong. Her life had been mapped out the moment her father and mother had turned traitor. It was a miracle she’d even made it to The Ring Academy. A nobody with a horrible past. She couldn’t afford the clothes on her back, how could she afford representation? It was a lost cause. The Federation would provide her representation on their dime. That meant one thing: Carnos. Glynn had made due on his threat, but she’d won. She and Malcolm had won the first trial. There were still two more. How would she ever prove her innocence?
The cuff was wrapped around her throat and the retraining cord attached between her wrists and neck.
“Ima. I’m going to help.”
Her eyes snapped open. “Don’t do me any favors,” she told Malcolm.
Lazzer chuckled. “Take her away,” he said.
She allowed the police to lead her away, her eyes on the ground in front of her feet. As much as she wanted to fight, she didn’t have anymore left in her.
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