Confronting the Fallen (8 page)

Judge Hawkes looked at him in surprise then looked
back at the phone and laughed. His gloomy mood seemed to evaporate.
“Yes, I certainly do. One of my staff actually modified the
cell for me.” The judge tapped it a few times. “I think
I'd be lost without it.” The man put the phone back on the
desk, folded his hands and sat back. “But let's get back to the
business at hand, Christopher.” He stared intently at Chris.
“We have a lot to talk about, don't we?”

Chris sat up attentively. “Yes sir, I guess
we do.”

“I'm sure you have a thousand questions,
young man. We have a very limited amount of time though, I'm sorry to
say, so I hope you will ask the ones that are most important to you
first.” The judge smiled slightly. “As you may have
guessed, I have a lot on my plate and never enough time for
everything.” He sat up briskly. “But before I satisfy
your curiosity, I'd like you to satisfy mine, if you would. Would you
tell me how you got to Ottawa?”

Chris watched as the judge folded his hands
together on the desk and gave him his full attention. Chris had been
ready to ask the man a bunch of questions and now had to stop and go
back in his mind over the last few days. He took a deep breath.

“Okay sir,” he said. “It was a
pretty crazy day, for sure.” He thought it through again.
“Well, you were right about Talon. They were everywhere. The
bus station, the train station, the airport. Actually they almost
fooled me at the airport.” He went on to describe his frantic
attempts to escape the city and finally his dilemma, his feeling of
panic. And then, the moment of revelation. “It just came to me,
sir...grab a cab!”

The judge smiled and nodded but didn't comment.

“So that's what I did,” Chris
continued. “It took hours to find a driver willing to take me
to Ottawa, but I finally found a guy to do it.” He sighed. “The
cabbie wanted a lot of money up front, but he brought me. It was
early afternoon when we got into town and I was afraid that Talon
might trace me somehow or that they had followed me, so I got him to
drop me at a bus transit station, and managed to get a bus downtown.”
He looked at the judge. “I got lost a few times but finally saw
the Peace Tower in the distance and kept it in sight. And you saw the
rest. I just ran as fast as I could and made it in time.”

“You did indeed, Christopher. A very
resourceful feat. Well done!” The judge sat back and fixed
Chris with an intense look. “Now then, before I tell you more
about our operation here, did you have any burning questions you
wanted answered?”

“Yes sir, I did.” Chris hesitated a
moment then said quickly, “Before you left me in that house,
you said my parents were murdered. I want to know what you meant.”
Then he sat quietly and waited for the judge to speak, almost holding
his breath.

“I thought you might, Christopher. And no, I
did not say what I said to talk you into taking up the challenge of
coming to meet me in Ottawa.”

Chris was startled. It had not occurred to him
that the judge might have been using head games to convince him to
follow him out of town. But he just sat still and waited for the
judge to continue.

“First, I wanted you to know that I spoke
with your father a few years ago,” the judge began. He nodded
as Chris sat up in surprise. “Yes. My interest in ancient
religions, which is something of a family passion, led me to consult
with your father via email and once over the telephone. He was, as
I'm sure you know, one of the preeminent experts in this field. And,
as such, he was able to answer several questions for me.” The
judge smiled gently at Chris. “He was very gracious with his
time, considering his busy schedule. He cleared up some concerns that
I had and I will always be grateful for that. When I heard about his
death, I was more than saddened. A man like that, in his prime and
with such an intellect...well, the loss was tremendous, both to those
in his field and, of course, to you and your mother personally.”

The judge glanced down at some papers on his desk
and then back at Chris. “And then to hear that your mother had
passed away a few days later? Well, call me suspicious if you like,
but that did not sit well with me, Christopher. Not at all. So, I
made a few inquiries, had some people I know do some digging. And my
conclusion was that these were not accidents at all.”

Chris spoke up. “But I don't understand. Why
would anyone want to kill my parents? Two people who were basically
teachers? What reason would anyone have?” His heart was
pounding suddenly and he could feel his face getting flushed. Just
talking about it brought all the old feelings of loss and anger
flooding back.

The judge hesitated. “I don't want you to
take this the wrong way, Christopher. Because their deaths were the
fault of those who killed them, no one elses. But, we believe, they
were killed because of you.”

“Because of me?” Chris stared at the
man. “Me? I'm to blame? I'm responsible?”

“No, Christopher!” The judge spoke
vehemently. “As I said, you had nothing to do with it. You were
a child. But forces out there learned of your...potential, shall we
say, and took steps to get you alone and vulnerable.” He was
silent for a moment and then his voice warmed as he continued. “But
you rose above all that! You survived and learned and adapted.
Something I'm sure that they were not counting on.”

Chris thought for a moment. “Yeah, I
survived, I guess,” he said thoughtfully. “But that's
about it. And I may have learned, but what I learned,” he
looked pointedly at the judge, “was not to trust anyone.
Everyone wants something from you. Everyone has their own plots and
schemes. Everyone...is a potential enemy. That's what I've learned,
your honor. And I doubt if my parents would even know me now,
compared to the innocent kid I used to be.”

Judge Hawkes looked at Chris compassionately.
“Yes, you are a different person, Christopher. I won't argue
with that. But you have survived and that, at this moment, is what
matters most.” He smiled. “And I know you don't trust me
yet. Trust, like respect, must be earned. And I intend to earn
yours.”

“How?” Chris asked quickly, then he
flushed, realizing how rude that sounded. “Sorry, sir, that
came out wrong.”

The judge nodded. “I understand. I will earn
your trust, Christopher, by telling you the exact truth, always. I
will show you that I am a man of my word and I, and those who are
here with me, will stand with you against your enemies. That is the
way that trust is earned, young man.” He stretched a bit and
then settled back into his chair. “And I will start by telling
you why you are here. Although I've given a variation of this
explanation many times, as have some of my senior staff, it never
gets any easier, so I have found that the best way to explain the
situation is to simply come right out and say it.” He stared
intensely at Chris. “There's a war coming, Christopher. And we
need you on our side when it arrives.”

Chris was speechless for a moment and then,
confused, said “A war, sir?” The judge nodded but did not
repeat himself. “But what does a war have to do with me?”
Chris asked.

“It has everything to do with you,
Christopher. Well, you and the other young people living under this
roof.” The man hesitated and then smiled. “I'm sure your
father, a religious scholar, mentioned the prophecies from many
religions, the predictions of a coming apocalypse?”

Chris nodded, even more confused. “Yes sir,
he talked about it several times. He seemed amused by them mostly.”

“Yes, of course. I suppose most
logical-minded people would be.” The judge sat quietly for a
moment, seeming to gather his thoughts. “Every generation,
since before the time of Christ, has had people living in it who
believed that this time, in their time, the apocalypse would occur.
They believed it was the end times. And significant dates, such as
the turn of a century or of a millennium, have brought out even more
fervor in some of these so-called prophets. Naturally they have all
been wrong.”

“Why naturally, sir?” Chris asked.

“Because they were using the wrong reference
point, Christopher. Our calender is fairly arbitrary and I doubt that
the universe is bound to follow it.” He smiled at Chris as he
said this. “But the true reference was there for everyone to
see all along.” At Chris' look of confusion, the judge pointed
upward. “The stars, young man. The universe itself is telling
us what the future may hold. It isn't destiny, per se, but it is a
warning for those who know how and where to look for it.”

“And the universe is warning of an end to
the world?” Chris asked skeptically.

“In a way, Christopher, in a way. You see,
my ancestor, the Hawkes that built this house, did so after being
presented with evidence that he believed heralded the possible
apocalypse. He wanted solitude to do his research, away from the
distractions of London and away from prying eyes. And so he came
here. He built this house and spent the rest of his life researching,
studying, traveling, trying to confirm or disprove this horrible
prophecy.” The judge stood up, walked to the large window
behind his desk and stared out at the forest in the distance. “Each
of my forebears has continued this research. And now it falls to me
to face the coming storm.” He turned and looked intently at
Chris. “I'm hoping that you will join us in this.”

Chris was struggling to make sense of the judge's
words. A war? The apocalypse? He would have thought it was a joke but
looking at the man's solemn expression, it was obvious that he was
very serious. Chris took a deep breath.

“Sir,” he said, trying to sound
reasonable, “this is very...hard to believe. I'm just a
thirteen year old kid. What good could I do?”

“A fair question, Christopher,” the
judge replied. He looked at Chris intently. “We believe that
you have certain, shall we say gifts, that would be invaluable to us
in the coming conflict.”

“Gifts, sir? What gifts?”

“Well, let's call them talents rather than
gifts then.” The judge returned to his chair and sat down
again. “For instance, what can you tell me about the puppy?”

For a moment, Chris stared at the man blankly.
Then he remembered. “How do you know about that?” he
asked flatly.

“Christopher, you know as well as I that
there are few secrets on the street.”

Chris sighed. “Few that money won't buy,”
he said.

“True enough,” the judge agreed. “Some
of my people heard a rumor and pursued it. And someone told them the
story. But stories change with the telling, so I'd like to hear your
side of it, if you would.”

Chris thought back for a moment. “Yeah, the
puppy.” he said quietly. “Well, I guess it was about a
year ago. I was downtown, just walking, trying to decide if I wanted
to go to the library or the movies, when I passed this old guy.”
He glanced at the judge. “The old man was kneeling on the
sidewalk. I know most of the older street guys; mostly they're
harmless so I like hanging around with them. But I'd never seen this
guy before. Anyway, he was crying so hard that his whole body was
shaking.” Chris' tone hardened. “And people were just
passing by him. Walking around him, not even looking down to see if
he was okay.”

As Chris hesitated, the judge said quietly, “So
you stopped?”

“Yeah, of course. I mean, I just wanted to
see if he was all right, you know? And that's when I saw the puppy.”
Chris felt a stab of pain at the memory. “It must have been
maybe three months old or so, just a mutt. There wasn't any blood
that I could see, but it's head was all flat on one side. “ He
looked at the judge again, who just nodded encouragement. “I
figured the little guy had run off into traffic and got hit by a
bumper or something. That small, it wouldn't have taken much. And now
it was dead and the old guy was just hugging it to his chest, crying
like I've never seen anyone cry before. It's like he'd never seen
anything die before. But old like that, you'd think he would have
seen a lot of death, especially living on the streets. Wouldn't you?”
he asked the judge.

“Yes, I would assume so,” the man said
quietly.

Chris pressed on, caught up now in the memory. “No
one else saw him, no one else cared, so I had to do something. So I
just, just reached down and touched the puppy's little head.”
For a moment, Chris stopped speaking as he cleared his throat and
swallowed hard at the memory. “I was gonna say I'm sorry, or
are you okay but then, the puppy just...wiggled.” He looked at
the judge with wide eyes. “It give a bit of a yelp and squirmed
out of the guy's arms. Its head looked normal again. Then it ran
around, barking and wagging that silly little stub of a tail. I
couldn't believe it! And the old guy was just stunned. He stopped
crying and stared and stared at that dog. Then he yelled and grabbed
me in a huge hug and thanked me like crazy.” He shook his head
in disbelief, still staring at the judge. The man nodded, his
expression gentle and understanding.

“And what did you do then?” Judge
Hawkes asked.

“I just got the heck out of there. People
were starting to stop and stare and I didn't want to attract any
attention. I never saw that guy again, but I guess the story got
around somehow.”

“I assume that is also when Talon found you
again, Christopher,” the judge said.

“Found me again?” He looked at the
judge blankly.

“Yes. When you ran away after your parent's
deaths, they lost track of you. Your instincts were perfect. Thanks
goodness you ran.” At Chris' look, the judge said “Who do
you think killed your parents?”

Chris gasped. “Talon?”

The judge nodded and Chris felt a wave of anger
wash over him. But then the judge spoke again.

“And so, I assume that Talon heard the story
of the puppy.”