Mere Immortal: Chapter Thirty-Two

Solace aims to recover the lost prototype. But who took it?

Chapter Thirty-Two

Zella Mills - Naguela

Zella jerked forward at the back of the truck. Joe Halili pumped the horn with his fist and kept it there, responding to a driver ahead who stopped to make a turn with no prior signal, causing him to slam the brakes. “Tonto!” Halili yelled.

Khloe wiped herself with a paper towel in the front seat. “Now I’ll have coffee stains all over my shirt.”

As the driver veered off, Halili pressed forward. A renewed silence enveloped the truck, their minds captivated by the same unspoken thoughts. The news had reported that the American government was putting the Seers under discipline after their latest stunt. Their recent appearance in Naguela fueled the theories that America had something to do with Secada’s death. The government had no choice but to respond by forcing the immortals to take the heat. It was a small victory. One that meant nothing in the grand scheme of things. In 2044, the attention spans of people were so shot that public awareness faded when events receded from the limelight. Meaning that the Seers’ could easily re-emerge months down the line with a new public image. As long as COG and the Seers were still allowed to bully and oppress innocent people, Solace’s work was not over.

For now, they were burdened by a more pressing issue. Zella knew that the disappearance of the EnigmaCore wasn’t her fault, but she couldn’t help but feel bad for Raul. Especially now that she had an idea of who snatched it.

Zella felt indebted to Raul for the disruption of his deal. His generosity in offering her, Dr. Calloway, and Marina not just freebies but also connections to cutting-edge technology, had transformed him from a mere arms dealer into a link to her past. She had known Raul since her youth, under the guardianship of Dr. Calloway and Marina. In many ways, he understood her more than even Solace.

This thought led her mind to Marina. Where could she be? Zella mused. She had been trying to connect with Marina since the day before, hoping for a casual catch-up, but her calls remained unanswered. It wouldn’t be surprising if Marina had switched her number again, forgetting to inform Zella – a pattern all too familiar. It took Zella back to the time after she first left Brazil; weeks of futile attempts to contact Marina, only to receive an out-of-the-blue call from her, blissfully unaware of her oversight in sharing her new number.

Her smart watch beeped. She tapped it and took the call, hitting it a second time to activate the loudspeaker. “Raul, what’s up? I have you on speaker.”

“You really think you can get the prototype back to me?” he asked her.

“I’m looking into a lead right now. On my way there, so I’ll keep you updated.”

“Who is this lead, Zella?” he asked.

“I can’t tell you that. But if it checks out, I’ll do my best to return the prototype.”

Raul sounded like he was smoking. Zella had rarely heard Raul so tense. “I’m trusting you, Zella. This is an important deal. And I know that the redhead on your team doesn’t want it back in my hands.”

“You’re not wrong,” Khloe replied.

“Who’s that?”

“This is the redhead speaking. I still don’t want that thing in your hands.”

“And I’m supposed to believe you had nothing to do with stealing it?”

“Theft isn’t my style. Actually, I’m more worried about whose hands it may be in now,” Khloe said.

“Cool it,” Zella intervened. “We can talk about the ethics of the EnigmaCore another time. Let’s focus on getting it back.”

“You do this for me and I’ll owe you a great debt, Zella,” Raul said. “And listen, Redhead…”

“Her name is Khloe, actually,” Joe snapped.

“Khloe, whatever. Listen up, I thought about what you said. I believe once the EnigmaCore is ready for general use that there will be many outspoken voices. That is why we are going to put together a committee that votes on the use of the technology. I want Solace to be a part of this committee. If you return the prototype to me, you have my guarantee that I’ll get you onboard.”

“Sounds good, but let’s focus on the getting it back part,” Zella said. “We’re almost at our destination.”

“Zella,” Raul called. “Are you going to the independence festival in a few days? We should meet there.”

Zella glanced at Khloe and Halili up front. They hadn’t discussed whether to attend yet. Joe Halili spoke up. “We’re going.”

“Then I’ll see you all there,” Raul responded. “Call me if your lead checks out, Zella.”

The call ended, allowing the three of them to indulge in their thoughts for a moment. “We’ve been meaning to take you out, Z,” Joe said. “I was hoping we wouldn’t have to talk business through the whole festival. You need to know what it’s like to enjoy yourself for a change. Gotta give ourselves time to enjoy the finer things in life. That way, we remember what we’re fighting for.”

“I could use a break,” Zella said. “Once we handle this Enigma situation, we can focus on letting our hair down.”

Khloe looked back at Zella from the passenger seat. “I’m not sold on this committee vote idea that Raul is proposing. I mean, let’s say the three of us are on this committee. We’re just three votes. They can design it in a way where we’re easily outvoted. I’ve seen countless instances of lobbying and voter manipulation in my line of work. Raul’s committee is not a solution.”

Zella’s head throbbed. She wasn't exaggerating when she said she needed a break. Her mind, overwhelmed, struggled to keep pace with the rapid succession of events lately. In this instant, her world narrowed to only what lay directly before her eyes.

Joe Halili parallel parked the car across the street from the abandoned ball court. Zella glanced at her watch. She was twelve minutes late, but it didn’t matter.

Khloe’s eyes followed Zella as she made to open the door. “Remember what I said before, Z. You can’t go on trusting everyone.”

Zella hopped out of the truck without a word and crossed the street to confront who they now knew leaked the photos to Elaine Rowe. The same person who had later stolen the EnigmaCore prototype. “Sorry I’m late,” Zella said, her steps navigating through the tangle of knotweeds sprouting through the cracks in the concrete.

Chi yawned. “You kidding? I barely just woke up. Surprised I made it here on time,” she said, casually sipping from a neon-hued energy drink, the can as hefty as a neoprene hand weight.

“Why, Chi?” Zella asked. “Couldn’t you talk to me first?”

Chi placed the drink down on a bench. “I’ll explain myself, Zella. I owe you that.”

Zella was all ears.