Meliora - Emanate - 07

[lady_mab]

Lionel Darcy

My phone goes off in my pocket, and Rhys’ obnoxious ringtone echoes over my music. I tap the earphone’s button to accept the call. “Hey. Where are you?” 

“I just got here.” 

“Oh. You’re later than I expected.” 

He snorts. “Where are you?” 

“I’ve been patrolling this line trying to find either you or one of my classmates.” Rhys just getting here would certainly explain why I hadn’t been able to find him. Zoné is so loud and awkward that I thought I would have had no problem locating him by now. 

“I’m out front. Is there seriously a line?” 

“Yeah,” I say as I stroll towards the main part of the restaurant. “I think they’re letting people in two at a time, and then waiting until they’re done. Talk about inefficient. Ah, I see you.” 

Rhys head turns, though his eyes glance right past me as he scans the restaurant. “Where--” 

I hang up without replying, and I watch him frown at his mobile for a few seconds. 

Then he spots me, and the frown deepens. “You could have at least said hold on or see you soon.” 

“That would have been pointless, because you’d literally be hanging up as I’m standing in front of you.” I jerk my head in the direction of the line. It meanders down a hall that branches off into the meeting spaces. “It’s in the same room as last time.” 

He makes a noise as I start to walk. “We can’t just cut in.” 

A part of me wants to ask why not? but I know that it won’t actually make me feel any better about having been snarky. ”I know. I said I’m trying to find a classmate.”

“Right, Liala mentioned that.” 

I bite down on the inside of my cheek to keep from letting the retort fly. There they go, just further adding proof that they were probably talking about me ‘being irresponsible’ behind my back. 

“You really need to keep that place cleaner, you know,” Rhys is saying, the well rehearsed scolding rolling right off his tongue. “It was nearly impossible to find one of her inhalers--” 

My feet freeze mid stride and I whirl around. There’s a pain in my chest as my heart clenches. “She had an asthma attack?” 

He’s not as concerned as I think he should be. “Nothing that bad. A bit of coughing got out of hand. She’s fine. But the fact remains that there should be an inhaler readily available.” 

“Okay, yeah, we’ll worry about the state of the apartment later. You know, when we’re not busy doing whatever this is.” My eyes finally land on the person I’ve been looking for. 

I realize now that the reason I couldn’t find him before is that he’s practically rolling down the hall as the line inches forward. There’s none of the usual energy hanging off of him. Crouched at his side, shuffling as he rolls, is a girl with shockingly bright pink hair. It’s pulled back into two buns, clashing with the olive-green fur collar of her vest. 

I stride up to them, Rhys trailing along behind. “Hey. Zoné.”

His head swivels up in my direction, and a grin lights upon his face. He clambers to his feet in a chaotic struggle of limbs. “Lio! Heya, did you just get here?” 

The girl rises as well. She must be his partner. She’s got a rather flat nose and narrow eyes -- which, upon closer inspection, look to be some sort of dark purple. Where does Zoné even find half the people he’s friends with? Some of them I can tolerate in small doses, but they’re all a strange combination of people when together. 

“I’ve been here a bit. Just had to find Rhys.” I pull my bag around and reach inside for the laptop. “Here. It’s not much, but it will suffice.” 

Zoné reaches for it, and I wonder if I shouldn’t have given him such a thin one. “Thanks, man! Just let me know what I can do for you, yeah?” 

I study the girl at his side, only to find that she is doing a silent study of me and Rhys. “This your teammate?” 

He turns to her with a wide grin and frames her head with one large hand in a strange sort of presentation. “Yep! This is Jun. Met her like, two whole weeks ago at the start of summer school. She just moved here. From China!” 

Her smile is small and embarrassed, and she holds out a hand to me. Her grip is short and firm, belying a sort of professionalism that I wouldn’t have pegged on a friend of Zoné’s. “It is very nice to meet you,” she says, voice soft and accented. Definitely not someone I would picture being friends with the boisterous kid at her side. 

“Lianel Lions, Rhys Darcy.” I point between myself and my brother, having to remember at the last minute to use my nickname for Meliora. I turn to look back at Rhys. “They’re the ones that Lysander is an Informant for.” 

“Oh, that’s right. He mentioned that he had found someone on the list when I showed it to him.” Rhys pushes his glasses up his nose. “I take it you’re his students?” 

“I am!” Zoné raises a hand excitedly. “Nice to meet you. Hey, where’s your sister?” 

It takes me a second to follow his line of thought. It’s more like a hyperactive puppy than it is that of a normal human. “Dude.” I cross my arms over my chest as Rhys makes a noise behind me. “Will you stop asking about her? It’s kind of creepy. Also, I’d rather you not mention that here.” 

Rhys puts his hand on my shoulder. “Be nice.” 

Across from us, Zoné laughs and holds up a hand to defend himself. “Sorry, sorry I’m just so used to seeing the two of you together. But Lianel, huh?” 

“That’s who was invited.” 

He opens his mouth, and I brace myself for more questions to come tumbling my way. But Jun reaches out and rests her hand on the crook of his elbow. 

When he looks down, she shakes her head ever so slightly. 

There’s a beat as the line shuffles forward, distracting Zoné and Jun. Rhys and I shuffle along with them. 

“I looked into that person for you. Every route I could think to take, and everything checks out so I’m not too sure what you wanted me to look for. I pulled his work address and some places he frequents.” I wave vaguely at the computer that he grips and shrug at Rhys’ pointed cough. He knows what I mean by ‘every route’. “It’s all on the laptop for you.” 

His partner offers a smile of thanks as she pushes Zoné along before her. He’s already scrambling to open the laptop to find the information, even if there isn’t a lot of it. “I take it we’ll see you in there? We’ll save you a seat.” 

I want to tell her that she doesn’t have to, but Rhys is guiding me in the opposite direction and answering for us. 

“That would be most thoughtful. It was a pleasure meeting you.” 

And with that, I’m guided to the end of the line for a few jerky steps before I can regain my own functions. I straighten my posture and adjust my bag where it hangs over my shoulder. 

Rhys keeps pace quietly at my side until we find the end of the line and take our place. "I recognize that girl from the first meeting." 

"Oh?" I never quite prodded Rhys for what he thought of the meeting a week ago. I thought it was a good idea to sit apart -- partly because I didn't want to sit with him and give him more opportunities to be the older brother, mostly because we could watch from opposite sides of the room. 

I saw him come in, but I made sure to avoid him. Took a seat across the room, listened to the oppressive silence of the other participants as they absorbed every word. 

"She sat at the same table. I recognize the hair color." He shrugs, brushing it off as we finally fall into the end of the line. There are still a few people moving in behind us, so at least that talk with Zoné didn't set us too far back. "Interesting that she happens to be on Lysander's team." 

"Small world, I guess." I shrug as well. Then, as we move forward a few silent feet, I turn back to him. "Do you regret not getting Lysander to be our Informant?" 

Rhys focuses on the line of heads. "Not really. Kaito made a very convincing argument." He trails off, leaving the sentence hanging in mid thought as I wait for the follow up. 

When no further explanation comes, I scrub my hand across my face and sigh. "You don't have to do what he says every time he flirts with you." 

His hazel eyes jump in my direction, narrowing at the corners. He looks like he wants to get mad, but all he does is press his lips together into a thin line. "Not like that, git. He runs a nightclub. A better hub for information than a history teacher."

In all honesty, I hadn't even considered that. I just didn't want to work with one of my potential teachers, even though I've got nothing against Rhys' friend. I just think that Kaito's cooler. "Does this mean that we can have team meetings at his bar?" 

This earns me a smack in the back of the head, though the darkness vanishes from his expression. "No. You're still too young." 

"Oh, come on. We turn seventeen in February, he's your best friend -- he'll let us in a few months early!" 

He wants to argue, to keep telling us no you can't because I said so, but then he makes a strangled noise of frustration. "I do not want you or Liala going there after seven in the evening, do you understand me? He is not allowed to serve you alcohol or lord help me, I will have his license suspended." 

A laugh makes its way out of my mouth, surprising both of us. "You would do that to your employers?" 

Rhys sniffs disdainfully and glances at me down his nose. Unlike his usual down the nose stare, this one is more for posturing. "I will not work with a client that serves alcohol to minors." 

"By a few months!"

"All the same!" And then his shoulders relax and he smiles. I'm so distracted by the fact that we actually managed to have a civil conversation without Liala around for once that I don't notice that we're at the front of the line. 

Both of us sober up as Chuck stares down at us. He's sporting a similar name badge to the first meeting, though it could also very well be the same one. The rest of his suited up apparel is pretty cookie cutter secret service stuff. He even has the sunglasses and a wired earpiece to complete the Old World movie star bodyguard effect. 

He looks down at us, towering several inches above everyone. "You will proceed directly to the table on your left. Register your team there, and take a seat when you are finished." He stands aside, and it's more like a boulder being rolled away from the entrance to a cave than a man moving. 

Rhys and I step into the darkened room. Each of the tables has a small lamp in the middle. To our left, there is a desk with a bright light clamped onto the side to illuminate the workspace. We approach the man at the table, who has been given the glorified data entry position for the day. 

The man looks like he's enjoying it ten times more than the normal data clerk, and looks up with a sharp frown and tired eyes. "Names?" 

I notice that he's not wearing a badge like his counterpart. But he does have the same secret agent vibe. Secret data clerk agent. "Lianel Lions," I say, wondering if he's going to ask us for an ID. "And this is Rhys Darcy." 

He taps a few things on his tablet. "And your Informant?" 

Rhys steps up. "No Kaito. Or Kaito No, I don't know how he might have it registered." 

The man's frown turns into a darker line than before. He types at the pad, then flicks through the data before finding what he wants. "Owner of Temple Fusion?" 

There's a slight pause before Rhys nods. "The one and only." 

He hits a button and then points in the direction of the tables without even looking up at us. I suppose I should be grateful for that much. "I am registering instructions to your phones now. Please inform us if you need to change numbers at any point during Meliora. Your Informant will be sent an invitation of their own. Remember that you cannot involve others beyond your Informant that have not been invited. This includes coworkers, classmates, and even family. Until then, take a seat. The Program Manager will be here shortly." 

Not even family? 

Rhys and I exchange a quick glance, unease floating between us. A strange need to call that out. I wonder if there had been issues before us that facilitated the need to bring this up. 

Of course we can’t say anything to each other. That’s going to have to be a conversation tabled for later. 

We move without further prompting. Despite the dim lights, it doesn't take much effort to find Jun's pink hair in the otherwise dull sea of bowed heads. I think about avoiding their table, but Rhys spots them as well and points them out to me. 

Jun and Zoné look up as we sit down alongside them. "Glad you could join us," she says politely.

"I'm hungry and there's no food here. So I'm hungry and a little upset." Zoné drums his fingers over the closed surface of the laptop, glancing around restlessly. 

She doesn't seem to share his same sort of light hearted posture. "You didn't have any trouble, did you?" 

Rhys and I hesitate. Beyond the fact that now the words ‘no family’ are running circles in my head, the whole thing was rather painless. "No,” I say slowly, carefully. “Did you?" 

It's her turn to exchange a meaningful glance with her partner. Zoné stills long enough for me to realize that something is wrong before he's fidgeting again. He waves a hand indifferently, passing off whatever was meant with a, "Naw." 

That's a terrible answer, and Jun doesn't seem to be too pleased with it either. But she doesn't make the effort to expand upon her initial question, so I don't push it. 

It's not too long before the haze of light from the hallway vanishes, and then the lights on our table start to dim. It's the signal that everyone is inside that will be allowed to participate, and that the Program Manager will be on stage shortly. 

At my side, Rhys takes out his tablet and pulls open a new document. Of course he would take notes during a meeting like this. 

Lights flare to life, and a chorus of surprised and disgruntled murmurs rise up from the room. The glare fades to something more manageable, and when I blink my eyes to clear away the remaining spots, the Program Manager is standing center stage. 

Like last time, he is dressed in a well pressed three piece suit. His bald head reflects the overhead light with a perfect matte finish. The smile he offers us is congenial and professional. 

Not to mention, noticeably and painfully staged. 

“My fellow citizens,” he intones. 

I’m really beginning to hate that phrase. To my left, Jun shifts uncomfortably in her chair by a degree. 

“You are here because you have made the difficult choice put before you. To get to the bottom of the truth is no small task. We would wish to congratulate you on your role here in Meliora, and to the unknown future that waits for us.” He pauses, and is rewarded with an awkward scattering of applause. People aren’t sure if they’re supposed to clap. 

Perhaps if Chuck held up a sign that says “(APPLAUSE)”, he might be more likely to get the response he is clearly looking for. 

The lack of a roaring cheer doesn’t seem to bother him, though. “The fact that you are here lets my team and I know what sort of people we will be working with over the next few months. As I speak, my assistant is already evaluating and categorizing your teams.” 

There is a muffled sound of confusion rising up from the tables. I glance around at the others sitting with me, and catch Zoné’s eye. He arches an eyebrow, though it’s a question that doesn’t really demand an answer. 

I can’t remember if he mentioned ‘categorizing’ us at the last meeting. What is the point of that? Is the pursuit of truth not a blank score board these days?

On my right, Rhys scribbles notes on his tablet. I’ll have to ask him later if there was anything about ranking the teams, and what sort of benefit that will even provide ALICE. 

The Program Manager could be working for an advertising business associated with ALICE. It could be an elaborate marketing ploy to gather data on our interests. 

“As my assistant mentioned when you registered, your Informants will receive an invitation to a meeting of their own. We are here now because I want to answer any remaining questions you might have before we start.” 

Several hands go up, mine included despite Rhys’ wide eyed look of horror. I ignore him and start talking before anyone else. I want to ask about the family thing, but it will call too much attention to us. I focus on his words instead. “Why rank us before this game begins?” 

A small tilt to Patrick Mercer’s lips forms at my question. “Straight and to the point. Well, my boy,” he begins, and I’m already bristling at his words. “I will admit with equal candor that not everyone will receive the same information or the same sort of events to participate in.” 

“Why not?” Jun calls, having to cup her hands around her mouth to be heard. 

“Because the playing field will not be fair, and it is up to you to make it so.” He nods his head, hands folded professionally behind his back. “That is how we will decide who is worthy of a way out of this city. You must prove to us that you deserve this spot more than others, and so some of you must work harder for that attention if another team outperforms you.”

Unrest ripples through the crowd. 

Zoné and Jun are whispering to each other in hushed voices. I can’t hear them over the general hum of the crowd. 

Rhys taps on my shoulder to get my attention. “Between this and that warning from earlier… We’ll have to be careful.” 

“Why?” It’s a stupid question, and I wince as it falls from my mouth. I’m just so used to arguing with him that it is second nature. 

He gives me a look that needs no explanation. “We can only rely on Kaito to take us so far. And then there’s Lia--” 

“I know. I got it.” 

Rhys frowns, but it’s not directed at me. He settles back into his chair and taps his stylus against his tablet in thought. 

Up on the stage, Patrick Mercer holds his hands out over the first few rows like he’s bestowing a benediction. “Silence, now. Please. We are almost done here.” 

It takes another few minutes before everyone falls silent. Even to the point where I can feel the collective tension as we all hold our breath, waiting for the final word. 

“From here on out, I shall no longer be the one sending messages out to you. Any information that needs to be relayed will be sent to your Informants from my assistant.” He waves a hand at the back of the room, and there is a general chorus of bodies shifting in chairs to look behind them. 

I had already taken a peak earlier. The light on the desk is off and there is no trace of the secret data entry agent who had previously been sitting there. Undoubtedly, he’s already off reviewing the data. 

My mind reels at what sort of things he must be categorizing. Credit cards, insurance, retirement plans, medical records. Potentially, they could gain access to all of this and more. 

I wonder where Rhys and I stand -- where Lianel Lions stands in the grand scheme of the assistant’s database. I wonder if it will be enough to keep us from getting booted. I still don’t know what it would mean for us to be related. Will that be something we need to avoid, considering we were both invited, or will it be detrimental to our team down the line?

“Any final questions should be given to your Informants.” Patrick has returned to his casual stance, hands clasped before him instead of behind him. “They can, in turn, bring them to their meeting. We will monitor you closely, but do not expect much by means of direct contact with myself or my team.” 

He starts to move off the stage without any further sort of indication, but hesitates before he can get too far. There is a beat where he gathers himself and waits until he is certain that all eyes are back on him. “I would like to wish you all the best of luck, and I look forward to the following months.” A smile, warm and surprisingly genuine, flits across his face. He tilts his head back and for a moment, his face is awash in the overhead light. “Work hard: The truth is at stake.” 

The lights go down so suddenly that shouts rise to take their place. Even the little nebulas on our table have been extinguished. 

It takes several jittery heartbeats for them to slowly return. When they do, the stage is empty. This apparently takes more people by surprise than I really think it should, sort of expecting the dramatic theatrics after everything, but that doesn’t stop them from issuing forth a few more shouts and muffled exclamations. 

The other three pairs at our table rise and leave, talking quietly to themselves. Zoné and Jun are on their feet as well. Her lips are pressed into a thin line, and the uncharacteristic seriousness has returned to his features. 

“We’re going to head out,” Zoné says, jerking a finger in the direction of the door. “School tomorrow and all that.” He pats the computer under his arm and lets a grin flash in thanks before he moves to cut a swath through the crowd -- Jun trailing expertly in his wake. 

Rhys puts his tablet away and sighs when I look back at him. “We should keep in touch, but I need to go as well.” 

“Work and all that?” 

“Hah. Yeah.” He waits for me to get up as well. “We’ll discuss it with Liala further.” 

“Let me know if Kaito has anything to say after the meeting.” 

Rhys’ brow quirks a degree. “He would tell both of us if it’s important.” 

A breathless huff of laughter escapes me. “That’s not going to stop him from telling you the bulk of the details, though.” 

“I’m not sure I follow your logic.” 

“Whatever, Rhys. Don’t worry about it. One of us will text you later, okay?” 

The look he gives me this time around I’m not too sure how to interpret. But he lets whatever is on his mind slide and we make our way out into the warm evening.