Chapter 2
February 29, 0350 ATG (After The Gate)
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-It would seem money, no matter its’ form will always play a driving role in our society no matter the structure. It comes down to cost, risk and reward. If the reward out ways the risk, then the cost is worth it, but what happens if the reverse is true?
– Philosopher Nichole Fern. “Moral Judgments in Economic Risk”
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Erick stood in the doorway, ready to chew Jonas out for nearly costing him a brilliant… if very eccentric maid when he was met with a most welcome sight of Jonas, who was holding out a perfectly transcribed atlas. His anger was further displaced by the sight of Jonas’ personal journal, sitting next to the original copy of the atlas, which was sitting next to a second not so perfect copy of the atlas he had been presented with. It signaled one very important thing. Jonas had found it. He knew Jonas well enough to see the signs of that.
Erick took the atlas, using the pause in the forestalled conversation to come to piece together his approach. This news would make waves on the political scene, and given the scope of the possible find, Jonas would need him for what was to come. “You found it, didn’t you? What I mean to ask, is, are your sure?” Jonas walked over and dragged over a chair, and Erick did the same. “I’m very sure.” Jonas said, passing Erick the notebook. Erick looked through the notes and references. They were all from Preserving America and the atlas the archeologist had transcribed. It was then that an ugly truth hit Erick. It was more of a confirmation really. He was going to have to destroy his collection. Jonas must of scene the conflict waring within him, because he saw Jonas’ eyes soften. “Were going to have to dispose of my collection if you go through with this expedition.” Jonas nodded. “Yes, and I imagine the harder part is knowing that the other councilors are probably going to fight over the one book that survives.”
Jonas could see his words had an effect. Part of him wished he hadn’t said anything at all, considering the fact, that his goal was to work with his friend to set up and introduction and co-author a proposal for funding. Nothing could serve as a demotivator like hearing you would have to give up your most valuable possessions, and give a rival the last of said collection. He just hoped Erick could see the overwhelming benefits over shadowing the exponential loss, but Jonas wasn’t going to hold his breath. In the end, he needed the funding for this. Word of his venture would leak and his life would inevitably be in danger. That wasn’t the worse part. It would make everyone he knew a target. That included his family
He steeled his own resolve, reinforcing it with thoughts of how the find would better his’, his sister’s and his mother’s life. His father was no longer with the living, but Jonas knew that his dad would have approved of this decision as well. But, before Jonas could speak up, Erick surprised him. “Where’s Preserving America?” Jonas pointed to his bag. “I’m assuming that will be our sacrifice to the government. Well, no matter. It had to go at some point.” “Erick, are you ok?” Erick met his gaze. “I’m not going to lie, I don’t particularly fancy losing my personal library, but those nosy fucks are going to investigate me, and that means I’ll be under suspicion the moment they see the proposal for funding. You made some excellent points regarding that when last we spoke.” Jonas just nodded in both acknowledgment of that fact and in agreement of the consequences.
They sat down together and started working through the details of the plan, along with how they were going to scrub this particular crime scene free of all its’ incriminating evidence. It was no secret that the government delt harshly to those who hoarded knowledge, especially to this extent. In the end they settled on a plan they both agreed held the least risk. Jonas would receive a quarter of the pay for his services, and hold on to the reference book and the Poorly recreated atlas. After all, Archeologists were allowed to carry such things openly without persecution of the law, because that was part of their job. This also meant Jonas was going to have to disappear for longer than a fortnight, while Erick used the remaining amount of Jonas’ pay to grease some wheels. “I think I can do that,” Jonas said. “but how are you going so smuggle me out of the city unseen? Also, It's colder than a witch’s tit out there.”
Erick pulled out a local map of the county, and pointed at a trade rout, tracing it to some ruins of an old building used by smugglers. “I have a delivery set to arrive in 3 days.” Erick used air quotes. “Smugglers!” Jonas exclaimed in disbelief. “Just how dirty are you?” Erick just shrugged, not denying it. “My proclivities and extracurricular activities aside, you’ll hide out there with a months’ worth of supplies, and when the time comes, you’ll return a hero with my book and atlas along with your journal. Seek me out and we’ll work from there. Of course, you will have to do it through official means, as I’ll have had survived an assassination attempt, heroically saving my maid from a very planned fire to cover the assassins’ tracks.” Jonas was appalled when he heard Erick talk about this level of fraud and conspiracy to, and fully commit a laundry list of crimes so openly and in front of him.
“What?” Erick asked Jonas with an expression of befuddlement. “You are a bad man. What have I gotten myself into?” Jonas said in mock disbelief. “Oh, shut up.” The politician said with a glare. “Like it or not, were in this together. If I go down, so do you and vice versa.” “You got to be joking, right?”
Just as Erick claimed, a caravan of smugglers arrived carrying an assortment of paraphernalia. He’d always thought Erick was a straight shooter on the straight and narrow with his comment on the smugglers being in jest, and it was just Erick’s way of saying he needed more time for an idea. Sure, he had an illegal library, but it was actively serving to better society by Erick allowing him to use it for further discoveries, so that didn’t count. But this? This was on a whole other level. Jonas wasn’t sure he knew his friend at all.
A sudden clatter of a drooped crate brought Jonas back to his himself as drugs spilled out of the newly created opening, and suddenly Ericks threat wasn’t so funny anymore. He felt a hand land on his shoulder and Jonas jumped. “Relax, Jonas. You’re making these men nervous.” “Easy for you to say. Erick, I know I am no stranger to…“ He waved a hand at the potential crime scene. “this, but this just puts some things into perspective.” “What do you mean?” Erick asked with genuine interest. Jonas looked down in contemplation. “When we became friends, you warned me that this could be a very complicated relationship. I guess it never clicked until now. Erick let out a belly laugh. “Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha. Haaaaah… I needed that.” Jonas scowled. “I’m being serious, Erick.” “I know Jonas, but hear me out. I meant what I said about us succeeding or going down together. You were right when you stopped me before. I won’t tell you why, but I will say this. What we’re about to embark on is the stuff of legends. It is also the kind of venture that requires some ground work.” He looked Jonas in the eyes. “They will be suspicious of me, and we need to be smart. That means I need to stick to routine. The only reason you’re only now learning about my… extracurricular activities, is because- Well? It has become relevant to our current need.”
Jonas held up a dismissive hand. “I get it. My shattered world view aside, what’s next?” And Jonas meant it. His view of Erick was shattered, and it would take time for him to fully trust the man again. The only reason he was going forward with this plan of his, was because Erick was right. They would go down together. Unless. Unless Erick had authorities waiting at the rendezvous spot. But did he want to give up on his dream of finding the library of congress. Then again, Erick was showing trust by revealing his smuggling operation. Then again, Erick was the one in control not him.
Jonas heard snapping. “Jonas? Jonas!” “Look I won’t tell-” Jonas started to plead, but was cut short by the sight of his friend smiling and injecting him with something unknown. Jonas felt his legs start to give out and drowsiness flood over him as he collapsed and was caught by Erick before hitting the ground. Had he been betrayed? It looked like it. “You bastard!” That’s what he wanted to say, but he couldn’t. All Jonas could do was try to resist the drug, but all he could do was hang on to mere moments of consciousness. If he was going down, then he would use this time to take out the fucker. He reached for his gun but was unsure if he had the right thing. Was it the artifact his dad passed to him, or was it his actual gun. Whichever one it was, he felt electricity flow into it. But, it was all for nothing. He lost consciousness before the gun could even be unlatched and drawn.
Erick Breathed a heavy sigh of relief. Time seemed to slow as his friend’s hand reached for the gun. But when he grasped that odd artifact, Jonas fell unconscious. Maybe it was just him, but he could have sworn he saw the runic inscriptions glowing for the briefest of instances. “Well, if he didn’t feel betrayed before, he definitely does now.” It was a mistake to show Jonas this. He was always going to drug the man for the trip to come, but maybe he had misjudged his friend’s reaction to the plan.
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As Jonas was being lowered into a crate, he saw a man placing the lid on in preparation to nail it in place. “Wait a moment if you would. I need to place some additional items into that box.” The smuggler grabbed some nails and a hammer but waited patiently for Erick to do whatever he intended to do. Not wanting to waste the opportunity, he took out his pocket watch the atlas, along with the other items needed for the plan to succeed. Erick had one more item to give to Jonas. It was one he was reluctant to give, because if he did, there was no going back should it be taken the wrong way. Seeing the inpatients in the man’s expression, he slipped the note into the archeologist’s pocket. “Sory about the delay. You know what to do.”
He stood there as the smugglers got Jonas loaded onto the wagon the crates that were unloaded were swapped with crates filled with liquor and other assorted goods meant for Hoptonvill. It would pull in a nice sum as long as these men could get passed inspection, but there was little to worry about as long as Rachel could keep them in line. Just as he was contemplating her capability in this matter, the councilor heard the melodic voice of the smuggler. “This is gonna cost extra you now.” Erick looked up and met her piercing green eyes. “I know, and I trust you’ll get the job done.” Erick let the comment hang between them. The smuggler didn’t look happy to hear his unspoken implication. “Councilor, I don’t take kindly to threats. Now, who’s our contact in Hoptonvill?”
Jonas was jostled awake as whatever was transporting him had hit what felt like a bump. As he fought through the hazy fog that almost always accompanied interrupted sleep, he found that he couldn’t move. It wasn’t because he was constricted by the crate. No, it was to a point, but he should have been able to freely move his arms around. A little wiggling confirmed that much. No? He had been bound and gagged. The fact Jonas was still alive was a positive. It meant he had time to asses his situation. He was tied up. Probably for his safety, but maybe not. He was properly gagged. That was a common tactic for slave traders and smugglers. The plan called for smuggling him, but without knowing the time, he had no way to know how long they had been on the road, and thus no way of knowing the purpose of the bindings.
Taking additional stock of his confining surroundings, Jonas felt the all too familiar weight of a book on his chest. That was also a good sign. No slaver would risk being caught with a book, that meant he was being smuggled. A sigh of relief passed his lips. “Now to break out of these ropes.” Jonas mumbled to himself. He made sure there was nothing flammable in his immediate are with more investigative wiggling and curled a finger up against the binding. Once Jonas was confident, he was touching the intended ropes, he produced a small flame and began to slowly burn away at the ropes. It was slow going at first and a little cathartic. This wasn’t the first time he had been bound and boxed. The difference between then and now could be defined as social and nebulous.
He felt a slight burning sensation and it was then that Jonas realized he was almost through the ropes. It had been a solid hour since Jonas started burning through them, and it was good that there were small holes drilled into the box. Otherwise, he would have suffocated by now. After all, fire needed oxygen to burn. Suddenly, Jonas felt the ropes go slack and he pulled his hand free. The moment he did, A very soft and nearly imperceptible glow painted the crate wall. It was only after Jonas’ eyes adjusted that that he noticed it. Curiously, he felt around his side to try to find whatever was making that light. It didn’t take long to find, and its discovery led to a not so comforting realization. His gun was gone. But oddly enough, they left the rune inscribed artifact alone, which was odd. It did have a literal jewel in it. Jonas went to pull the free to investigate it when it shocked him.
Jonas pulled his hand back in reflex and smacked it into the box. “Fucking shit that hurts.” He quietly cursed. Once the pain subsided, he used the other half of his ability, and coated his hand in electricity. His air loom shocking him like this made no sense. Hell, his ability to produce fire and electricity didn’t either. So, who was Jonas to criticize the order of things, but this was fucking weird. Even for him.
Feeling confident in handling the thing, he gingerly and with caution, tapped it with a finger. When it didn’t shock Jonas’ already electrified hand, he gripped it and pulled it up to his eyes. The strange runes were glowing, and the longer he held it the brighter they were becoming. It was like the thing was reacting to his ability. No, feeding off it. Jonas would definitely investigate this later. For now, he needed to free his other hand. Jonas repeated the process that freed his first hand and another hour later, freed it. That’s when he heard one of the smugglers talking. “No really. The boss is going to make an example out of some archeologist.” One smuggler said. “Isn’t that dangerous. The client is a-” But Jonas didn’t catch the rest, as they were now out of earshot.
It didn’t take a genius to know who they were talking about. They were talking about him. “Well shit.” Jonas cursed for the second time since waking up. Hand still crackling with electricity he grabbed the glowing artifact. When he escaped the slavers, he had surprise and one exploitable fact. It was a fact these smugglers likely didn’t share… his life. Yup, he was a goner and all he had to assist him was a freakishly glowing artifact with some kind of writing he had no freaking clue about and some valuable historical documents. Jonas held the artifact up to his face and wished he had his gun. No sooner had that thought entered his mind, and a bolt of lightning blasted from the tip of the gun shaped thing and blasting the back of the crate open. Shards of wood and plasma shot outward in all directions.
Jonas looked through the hole to see several shocked smugglers who were all looking at another smuggler who was now lying dead on the ground. In one hand was a crowbar and in the other, was his revolver. Taking the initiative, Jonas knew what he needed to do. He needed to get that gun. Pointing the artifact at the smugglers he tried to fire it again, but nothing happened. That was to be expected. He wasn’t even sure how it had happened in the first place. Either way, it did have an effect. It caused the stupefied smugglers to take a step back. Their stupor was short lived, however, and they were no longer in shock from the sudden blast and were now reacting, but that collective step back was all he needed to sees his revolver and rapid fire the weapon with an old western trick. The first shot was a misfire, but the next four rounds fired off without an issue, each one proclaiming Jonas’ survival. That he would live. He heard the horses cry out a series of frightened whinnies and dash off with the wagon full of cargo. Jonas’s crate, however, fell off the back.
That was when he heard the rage filled screaming of the surviving smuggler. “YOU BASTARD! I’M GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU.” Turning around, he faced an enraged woman. Her face was red and twisted with rage. She was also holding her own revolver, and it was aimed at him. She laughed. “You really think I’M scared of you. Your empty.” That was true. He only had 5 shots in the cylinder, and one of those shots’ mis-fired. She had him dead to rights. “You know?” The smuggler asked with sickly venom. “Erick wanted me to drop you off in some old ruins, but he threatened me. I don’t like to be threatened. So, here’s what’s going to happen. I’M going to kill you. I’M going to find my horses and ship your lifeless body back to Erick.”
Jonas went pale. His line of work was a dangerous one, but he couldn’t bite the dust just yet. No, he still had a library to find. “Dammit! I can’t die like this.” Jonas inwardly cursed. There was nothing he could say that would stop his murder. He knew that much. This woman also didn’t care about the lost money or any possible threat to her life, which meant she wasn’t someone to trifle with. The smuggler’s finger began to squeeze, and on reflex he dove to the side and did the same. Her aim was slightly off and shot Jonas in the arm. The hammer on Jonas’ revolver clacked, and miraculously, if not so likely the bullet that failed to fire went off. The woman looked down at her chest and then back at Jonas. “Impossible.” The smuggler croaked out before collapsing into a heap, dead. “Well shit. At least I’m alive.”
That was the bright side to all of this. He was still alive. The bad part about this whole nasty affair, was the fact he was wounded and bleeding, and infection was not a mistress he cared to court on this adventure. Maybe the wagon had medical supplies. If not, It wouldn’t be the first time Jonas wasted a bullet or two to cauterize a wound. He had to find those horses and that cargo. After all, it wasn’t just the revolver they took, but his Atlas and pocket watch. He needed that atlas. Maybe not the pocket watch, but the atlas was a deal breaker. Pluss, sterilizing a wound with gunpowder fucking sucks. Gathering the book, he went back over to the dead smugglers and searched their bodies in hopes the other items were on them. His efforts were met with some success, however. The leader had his pocket watch, but the atlas was gone. He had to find them horses and get that Atlas back. Jonas looked at the watch. “Yep. No telling where I am, let alone how many days I’ve been out.”
The watch didn’t have a calendar function. That being a factor, the way he knew this, was the fact that the sun was in the same position as it was when Erick poisoned him. The thought angered Jonas, but what was done was done, and there were things that took precedence. Tracking down that run away wagon and getting back his atlas. “And then there’s this thing.” Jonas said to himself as he held the od gun shaped artifact in front of his face.
