Chapter 20: Intimidation Tactics

“Are you all alright?” The man asked with a gravelly voice. The words of concern came as a shock to Ezra after the man’s violent display.

Glass crunching behind him signaled Milo’s arrival from the back of the store. “What the hell happened?” Upon seeing the man in the street holding a gun he froze.

“Is anyone injured?” The man inquired again.

Ezra scanned the small store and saw no one dead but the man against the counter. “No,” he replied. “I don’t think so.”

There was still so much he wanted to know. This man didn’t seem like a bad person. Something more was going on. “Why did you do this?”

“I’m not your enemy.” The man replied.

Voices of guards came from a distance as people parted about a hundred paces down the street. The man glanced in the direction of the crowds, and suddenly he was in front of Ezra. Ezra almost fell back as the man snatched the coin pouch at his side. “Think of it as payment for saving your life.”

Before he could grasp his senses, the mysterious man was back in the street. Only a second later he was further away.

“Did he just?” Milo asked.

“Yeah.”

“Well, after him! That’s all of our money.” He slapped Ezra on his back and went sprinting out of the store.

A teleport skill. There was no way they were going to catch up. Plus this man seemed to know the city a million times better than they did. The guards were closing in, and they would likely ask questions. They didn’t have time to answer them. Ezra stumbled onto one foot as he slid through two unaware pedestrians. Regaining his balance, he continued the chase. Heart pounding, eyes desperately searching for the man in a gray coat, and mind racing for solutions Ezra ducked under a pair of men carrying a long crate.

Milo tapped his shoulder, “He’s up there. On the rooftops,” he panted between gasps for air.

There’s no way we’ll reach him now. Ezra bit his lip as he looked for a way up. Unless, he thought as a plan began to take shape.

Ahead, a vendor in a red jacket offered various ores. Rushing past the people surrounding the stall, he grabbed a black and rubbery piece of ore, and the stall owner called after him. Keep looking forward, Ezra reminded himself. He didn’t love stealing but hated the thought of being stolen from more.

He tossed the piece of Decrite to Milo.

He looked at Ezra bewildered. “What am I supposed to do with this?”

“Use your skill to chuck it at him.”

“Might as well throw a pillow at him while I’m at it.” Milo squished the ore between his fingers.

The man was nearly out of sight, and the shouting behind them wasn’t getting quieter. “Just trust me. You throw it I’ll do the rest.”

Milo gave Ezra one last sidelong glance and massaged the Decrite into a sphere. Taking a deep breath, he raised his arm, and the rubbery substance soared through the air unimpeded by anything that would pull it back down.

Ezra focused on the speeding black dot and considered the futures it could experience. One action. One item. Thirty seconds. After they had unloaded the Decrite at lighthouse three, he had stayed a bit to watch them put it in the processor. With a slow application of pressure, the ore had turned to liquid in seconds. Wouldn’t the opposite be true the other way around? It still only takes a few seconds. He imagined the action of rapid compression. Time-scale.

The lumpy sphere Milo had shaped hardened into a perfect ball and struck the man’s left shoulder blade. He was coming up on a break between two buildings as he stumbled and slowed down. A Tarkin-tram was speeding by through the gap. That’s his next target. He doesn’t have the momentum to make the jump so he needs the tram. But he’s not teleporting. Why not?

“Get the Decrite back!”

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“Still got it,” Milo called back as he pulled the ore towards him.

“Time-scale,” Ezra whispered as he watched the tram begin to travel backward. Suddenly, it felt like the wind was knocked out of him. Too big? Too much, Ezra wondered as he felt his grasp on the tram slipping.

A few passengers were flung to the front of the tram as their momentum conflicted with time. Above them, the man was holding his shoulder as he lept from the building.

“Shit!” The man shouted as he frantically grasped for a ledge that wasn’t there.

His body disappeared in midair but then reappeared as he slammed into the side of the other building. Milo and Ezra rushed towards the man as he tumbled towards the ground. The man twisted his body and curled his legs to brace for impact, as he fell into a thin metal canopy. The sheet of metal collapsed with a crackling thud.

The tram sped past as Ezra released control of his skill, and they both stared at the disoriented man before them. He rubbed his ashen stubble and slowly raised himself from the wreckage.

“I’ll give your money back but not here.” The man said as he rubbed his forehead and wiped a streak of blood from his lips.

Milo raised his arm, ready to throw the ball of Decrite again, but Ezra put a hand on Milo’s forearm as they both realized the approaching shouts behind them.

“Ok, lead the way,” Ezra replied.

The man clumsy got up and placed a hand on a metal support as he regained his senses. After a deep breath, he took the lead. They darted down alleyways, each one thinner than the last, as the chaos behind them faded. After the man seemed satisfied, they stopped in an alleyway thinner than two people across.

The same tired look Ezra had seen outside the weapons shop made the man seem older than Ezra suspected he actually was. After a moment of fishing around his baggy trousers, the man produced a brown felt bag. He jingled it in front of them to prove its authenticity and casually tossed it Milo’s way.

“Is that all?” The man grumbled.

Milo opened the bag and smiled at the sight of silver coins. “Yeah, that…”

“Wait, I have some questions to ask,” Ezra interjected. “What were you doing at the weapons shop? You said you’re not our enemy. Who is?”

“And your name,” Milo said trying to muster an interrogating tone.

The man sighed, “This is why I can’t stand unalloyed. Thinking they have the right to know everything.”

“You almost got us killed and then stole from us. I think we have the right to know something.” Ezra leaned against a building in an attempt to block the man’s exit.

Silence stood between them like an invisible wall until the man broke it. “It’s Wilfred, and I wasn’t the one about to get you killed. If I didn’t show up, you would be dead.”

“From the man with the briefcase?” Ezra folded his arms and continued to glare at Wilfred.

“Who else,” Wilfred responded, stunned that such an obvious question was being asked. “That man works or worked for Faulpher-tek. Not directly but he’s connected.”

Milo jumped in before Ezra could continue to ask another question. “But why would he want to blow up the weapons shop? Faulpher-tek makes weapons. It’ll be stupid for them to blow up their customers.”

“Because the retailer isn’t selling what they want. You’re from the first layer, right?”

Ezra nodded. He decided not to question how Wilfred knew.

“There are plenty of restrictions on weapons down there,” Wilfred explained and unholstered his vibro-crystal gun. “If I wasn’t a registered sky-seeker, I wouldn’t be allowed to have this outside a testing hall or Terra observed ranges. Similar rules apply up here, but since more sky-seekers live in Subterris the restrictions are looser. Yet, Faulpher-tek still thinks they’re not loose enough.” Every time he mentioned Faulpher-tek the word was imbued with silent rage. “So, to answer your question, it’s a petty intimidation tactic. Nothing more. Nothing less.”

“Great chat, but I’ve got to get going.” Wilfred made a move to shove past Ezra, but Milo blocked his way. “What’s your problem kid?”

“You still have half our money.” Milo stared him down with bold determination as he stuck out a hand.

Wilfred rolled his eyes, took a handful of coins from his pocket, and firmly placed them in Milo’s palm. “Satisfied?”

“Sure,” Milo grinned as he funneled the coins back into the bag.

Before Wilfred could fully exit the alleyway, Ezra spoke up. “So, is Faulpher-tek the real enemy?”

“One of many. Who knows what allies they have.” Wilfred shoved his hands in his coat pockets and turned back one last time. “If you ever meet a man named Marlaove, tell him old Wil is still waiting.”

Suddenly, Wilfred disappeared. Probably his teleportation skill again. Ezra was kicking himself for not asking about that.

“So where to next?” Milo asked.

The name Marlaove faded into the back of Ezra’s mind as he remembered his true goal. Marcus was still out there somewhere, likely getting more powerful as they spoke. I need to be strong enough to face him. Ezra looked up with resolve in his eyes. “The Morltin test is on this layer. Why don’t we go take it.”