Tss 3: Night's Son

Bobby learns the truth about his father and the legacy left to him.

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Chapter 02

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Legacy

Now, I don't consider myself an insensitive person, and I have a high regard for life. However, I also believe some people should be removed from society with extreme prejudice: child molesters, rapists, and people who don't use their blinker among them. Okay, I'm joking with that last one. Anyway, my father's death gave me more of a feeling of relief than one of sadness.

Yet, as I sat in the lobby of Kingsley, Nowell, Issa, Geirbrandt, Holland, and Thomas, I felt a pit form in my stomach. My hands grew sweaty, holding my extra-large triple-shot vanilla and caramel espresso—the barista gave me a funny look when I ordered that for some reason—and I began to wonder if I was underdressed for the occasion. I'd stopped off at my dorm to shower and change out of my party clothes but went with a simple t-shirt and jeans. As people walked in and through the lobby, I only counted one other person not wearing a full three-piece suit, and he delivered breakfast.

"Mr. Brody?" The receptionist called. From her tone and the sour twist of her lips, I gathered it wasn't the first time she'd said my name. "They are ready to see you now." The woman was more handsome than pretty, and I couldn't help but notice how much of her cleavage was on display. My eyes would have zeroed in on her chest under normal circumstances, but I wasn't in the mood. Blame on the lack of sleep, the uncomfortable position of coming to this fancy office to discuss the will and testament of the man I hated most in the world, or the incredible sex from last night.

I followed her directions down a hallway lined with pictures of court cases and news articles. I didn't know how old this firm was, but judging by some of the images, it went back at least as far as the camera. From the lush carpet, marble columns, and finery, they must be doing well for themselves. How much had they cost my dad? Money that could have gone towards making my mother's life less hard, no doubt.

I located the conference room I was directed to and found two men already seated inside. One was bald, his light black skin reflecting the overhead light. He was a heavyset man with a triple chin and moobs bigger than Charlotte's. The other man couldn't be more opposite. His almond-shaped eyes spoke of Asian heritage, other than being blue. He had thick black hair, parted on the left, and was beanpole skinny. He also wore a thin goatee, where the black man was clean-shaven.

"Mr. Brody, nice to meet you," the larger man stood and offered his hand. I took it as he met my eyes, looking for something. After a firm shake, he turned to his partner. "I am counselor Peter Lancel, and my partner is counselor Alie Luu."

"Allie?" I asked before my brain had time to filter. Wasn't that a girl's name?

"Alie," the man pronounced with a little more emphasis on the long 'i' sound. Despite his obvious annoyance, his voice was deep and rich. Coming from the thin man, it caught me off-guard. "It is a perfectly respectable name where I'm from."

I almost asked where he was from since I didn't detect an accent, but the other man cut in.

"I'm sure you have a lot of questions, Mr. Brody, but unfortunately, there are a few formalities to be met before we may proceed." Mr. Lancel indicated that I sit on the other side of a large, oval, mahogany conference table before sitting down next to Mr. Luu. I noticed a thin manilla folder as they pushed it across to me with a pen. "In there is a form I need you to initial and sign."

Curious and wondering why they needed signatures before anything else, I opened the folder. Inside lay a single sheet of legal-sized paper, partially folded at the bottom to fit inside the folder.

"What's this about?" I asked, picking up the pen but making no move to sign the document. "I thought I was here to hear about my father's will."

"Yes," Mr. Luu said, meeting my gaze with his sharp blue eyes. "But there are a few formalities, first. His will has some proprietary information in it that we must protect. There were also some stipulations in his will, and signing this document was the first. It's all quite standard and ordinary for our clients."

"It's merely a non-disclosure agreement," Mr. Lancel broke in with a genial smile. "All it says is that you agree not to discuss anything you learn here today. You're more than welcome to read it over before signing, of course."

"And if I don't sign?" I asked, not liking the secrecy from the beginning. Their reassurances that this was 'standard and ordinary' had my hackles raised. "I mean, if I'm getting anything from my father, how would I explain that to my friends? I'll be learning what's in his will, right? I can't be expected to keep

everything

a secret."

Mr. Luu grimaced, but Mr. Lancel kept his innocuous grin as he answered. "We will, of course, let you know before such information is presented."

I took a moment to glance over the form and couldn't make out anything that seemed out of the ordinary. The spot to initial said that I was here of my own free will, and my signature claimed that I agreed with the document. I inked both of them, then slid the folder back across the table.

Mr. Luu smiled for the first time as he verified my signature, then set the folder aside. Mr. Lancel bent down, then huffed as he lifted a much thicker folder and put it on the table with a thunk.

"Thank you for your understanding," Mr. Lancel said, his voice and face losing his grin as he continued. "I understand this must be a difficult time for you, and we usually would wait until after the funeral, but as I mentioned before, your father's will had some stipulations in it."

"There are also matters concerning his death that precludes a proper funeral," Mr. Luu interjected, his voice crisp and clipped. "And our time is concise after recent events."

"Yes, well, we'll get to that," the large black man kept his gaze on me as he spoke. Despite his obese frame and genial attitude, I got the distinct impression he watched my every move and word. "Please bear with us, as again, I'm sure this must be difficult for you. We have some questions to ask you, and then we can read the will."

I looked between the two men, debating telling them what a dirtbag my father was, and decided to hold back. With a firm this large and offices all over the place, they probably never met Asshole Brody Sr. Wait... Does that make me Asshole Brody Jr? Ah, you know what I'm getting at! Discretion is the better part of valor and all that.

"I barely found out this morning," I tried to sound contrite and depressed. "With everything else going on in the world, it's a sad time for many."

"Yes," Mr. Lancel said, nodding his thick and jiggly head. "Our firm is quite busy after yesterday's events. Quite busy, indeed. Now, as I said, we have some questions to ask you before we can proceed to read the last will and testament of Bernard Oscar Brody. Please don't think of this as a quiz with any right or wrong answers, but we need to know what kind of a man you are before moving forward."

Despite the calm in his voice, I knew there was more to whatever they were about to ask me than they were letting on. And while I was by no means a lawyer, this seemed highly irregular. It also didn't escape my notice that Mr. Lancel was playing good cop, while Mr. Luu played the opposite role. Perhaps it was their actual personalities—goodness knows Lancel looked like he took life easy, while Luu remained strict—but I couldn't help but feel like I stepped under a microscope when walking through the door.

"Go ahead," I nodded, still trying to sound as if my father's death weren't something to celebrate.

"I'm sure you're familiar with the—what's the new legal term—Lydenese, and how they are beginning to integrate into our society. What is your view on them?" Mr. Luu asked the first question, reading from a paper. Both men prepared to write as I thought that over. "Please don't take current events into account with your answer."

Should I be honest and tell them the truth?

I wondered. I couldn't tell what answer they were hoping for with their question, though the last made it seem like they liked the freaks.

What does any of this have to do with my father, anyway?

Thinking back on the few times he visited my mom and me, I couldn't remember him ever saying a kind thing about them.

"I don't know how I'm supposed to ignore their recent actions," I said, figuring I should be honest, even if it put me on some freak-hater register. "They're dangerous. How many people have to die or be hurt before everyone sees that?"

Neither lawyer spoke as they made notes. I couldn't even read their facial expressions.

Mr. Lancel asked the next question. "This next one is purely hypothetical. Just answer the best way you think you would behave. You're walking through a forest when you hear someone scream. You run to see what's happening and find a bear getting ready to attack an injured man. You have no weapons on hand. What do you do?"

I didn't hesitate before answering this one. "I'm guessing that the man can't escape very fast on his own. I also suspect that I could sneak away and be just fine, but it would mean leaving the man to die. As such, I would grab a stick, or a rock, throwing it at the bear to try and get it to chase me. Hopefully, I could lead it away and allow the man time to make his escape. I'm pretty fit, and as long as I'm careful, I should be able to escape the bear."

This time I caught both men nodding their heads as they wrote. They then spent the next thirty minutes asking questions on various subjects. While many were pointed, some were imaginary scenarios but gave me no indication of what they wanted to hear. Many also included the issue of the freaks

Finally, they put their notes aside and nodded to one another. It was Mr. Lancel that spoke. "We already know your father only had one child, you. At the risk of giving you more information than you want... Shortly after your conception, your father was involved in an accident at work that rendered him sterile." He opened the thick folder and rifled past countless forms before pulling a single sheet out. "As his sole heir, it is our sad duty to dispense of his worldly goods to you, Bobby Brody—you have no middle name, correct?"

I nodded, and they both looked at the single sheet of paper. From where I sat, I couldn't see how much was written on it. I couldn't help but wonder what information I was supposed to keep secret. So far, all they'd done was ask me a bunch of questions. And despite their claim of being in a hurry, they weren't rushing things along. I was more confused now than I was when I first walked in. I felt more like I went through a job interview than to find out if my good-for-nothing father left me anything worthwhile. While the chair I sat in looked and felt expensive, it wasn't comfortable, and I eyed the clock, wondering how much longer I'd have to endure this.

"What we're about to reveal is what you signed the non-disclosure agreement for," Mr. Luu said, and I felt my pulse quicken. They waited for me to nod before moving on.

"What do you know about the work your father did to earn a living?" Mr. Lancel asked.

I thought back on what little I knew. If he could afford lawyers like these, he seemed to be wealthy and was rarely ever around. That about summed it up. "Not a lot," I admitted. "I think he traveled a fair bit and made good money, but that's about all."

"Your father was a good and righteous man," Mr. Lancel spoke into the silence following my words. "He did God's work, fighting for what's right and protecting the innocent."

"You make him sound like a warrior monk or something," I half chuckled. Their description of him didn't fit with what few memories I had. A holy man wouldn't abuse my mother and all but ignore me. I never got any Christmas presents from him, and if not for the monthly child support and scholarship money, I'd think he didn't know I existed. Of course, monks also couldn't afford expensive lawyers, either.

"You are half-right," Mr. Lancel said.

I waited for him to clarify, but it was Mr. Luu who spoke up.

"What do you know about the holy order of Paladonic Knights?" Both men regarded me as those words slowly made sense. I'd swear neither one breathed as they waited for me to answer.

My mind raced as I tried to decide on how to answer. I knew the Knights fought against the freaks and the government recently labeled the P.K.'s as a terrorist organization. Was that why I was here? It seemed odd that they would want to meet me so soon after my father's death. And those questions they asked... Were they really my father's lawyers? Were they saying my father belonged to that organization? Or were they trying to see if I'm a Knight? If my father was a P.K., what did that mean for me? Their phrasing seemed to support the group, but was that a trap? Were they really my father's lawyers? If they weren't, then I severely misjudged why I was here.

Glancing between the two richly suited men, I decided to stick with being honest. "I don't know much about them, other than they fight the Lydenese. I understand that Wyoming's attack was a battle between the Knights and the Lydenese, but no one knows who set off the bombs. On the one hand, what strategic value does Wyoming have for either side? On the other, how did either group get that kind of destructive power?"

"Great questions to ask," Mr. Lancel said. "What I can tell you is that your father was a Palidonic Knight. He fought his whole life to protect humanity, and he was in Wyoming when the Lydenese set off the bombs. Countless innocent women and children died in that attack."

"You're here today to see if you want to follow in his footsteps," Mr. Luu added. "General practice is to approach an heir after they have completed college. However, due to our recent losses, we are coming to you earlier. Your answers to the questionnaire show you would be a good candidate. Your own questions show you're a man who knows how to use your mind. We have your college transcripts here as well. Please remember that regardless of your answer, what we've discussed must remain confidential."

I didn't miss the fact that they were all but calling themselves Paladonic Knights. Sitting back in my chair, I tried to keep my face neutral. Even so, I'm sure the way my hands twitched under the table or the fact that I couldn't meet either of their eyes showed how nervous I became. I'm pretty sure it requires some permission from me to get my transcripts, so the fact that they had them meant that they had some pull with my college. They were revealing quite a lot to me and trusting in that agreement. The Knights were labeled as a terrorist organization, and I'm sure there is a reward of some kind for turning them in.

A reward that would set me up and help my mom out.

But they fought against the freaks... And some of the conspiracy theories around campus said that the current political administration was in bed with and selling America to those monsters.

Join the Paladonic Knights? Me?! I'm no fighter.

My mind ran in circles. I was great at sports, playing basketball and football, and decent at e-sports, but that didn't make me a warrior. I was only supposed to be here for my father's will. This wasn't supposed to be a job interview. Now all those questions made sense.

"I can see you're a little surprised," Mr. Lancel said. I was more than a little surprised. "You should know that there are more to the Paladonic Knights than warriors. We all do our part. I'm certainly no specimen of physical prowess. But just because we don't fight those vile creatures doesn't mean our role is any less important."

I continued to stare between the two men. I didn't know what to say. It also dawned on me why they were so adamant that I sign those documents before we started. They couldn't have it known that such a large law firm was made up of an alleged terrorist organization. I only came here to hear my father's will and hopefully get enough out of it to help my mother. Not... not

this!

"What about my father's will?" I asked, pointing to the paper in Lancel's chubby hands. I hoped to change the subject and get time to think. I didn't like the freaks or appreciate them invading my country, but I didn't want to fight them.

"Everything your father owned belongs to the Paladonic Knights," Mr. Luu stated. "As a Knight, his bills were paid, to include taking care of you and your mother. Regardless of your decision today, your education is already paid for. However—"

"If I don't join the Knights, then all of that is cut off," I said, finishing for him. I didn't appreciate where that put me. Both men continued to look at me as though the decision were obvious. Join the Knights, and they would handle all my finances. My mom would continue to be taken care of. Walk away, and I walk away with nothing but my education, and my mom would be even worse off. Sure, I could try and get a job right out of college, but I knew the chances of landing a decent job on my own were about the same as winning the lottery. Compounding the issue, they'd made it clear that I needed to make a decision today.

No pressure or anything,

I thought with a sneer.

Make a decision on the spot that will affect the rest of my life. Become a communist in all but name, fighting evil and protecting humanity, or forge my own path and see where that gets me.

As the silence stretched on, I realized I didn't have much choice. Sure, my education was taken care of, but that was no guarantee that I would make enough to help my mom out. She was in her late forties and still waiting tables. She had no retirement and no skills for a better job. The woman raised me on her own, often sacrificing to make sure I had what I needed because the stipend she received—apparently from the Knights and

not

my deadbeat father—wasn't enough.

Drawing in a deep breath, I let it out slowly before speaking. "Where do I sign?" Both men nodded as though it were the only reasonable answer I could give. I realized as they opened that thick folder once again that, in the end, my father did leave me with something; a legacy to follow in his footsteps.

But that didn't mean I had to be the terrible human being that he was.

"You don't have to decide today what your responsibilities will be within the brotherhood," Mr. Lancel stood and took my hand in his pudgy digits after I finished signing countless forms. I didn't even take the time to read them; I was too numb. "Another of our associates will take you downstairs, where you will officially swear in. You'll also be shown some perks of being a Knight and some of the duties and responsibilities inherent for everyone."

I'm not going to lie. The next few minutes were a bit of a blur that I don't remember. I'm not trying to hide anything here. One moment the two lawyers discussed my bright future and how I'd make significant contributions to the cause. The next thing I remember was walking down a hallway, following some broad-shouldered guy into an elevator.

What had I just agreed to? Was I now a terrorist? Would I be expected to kill other creatures? It was one thing to despise the freaks and what they represented, but another to think they expected me to fight and possibly

kill

them.

I realized my guide was talking to me and decided I'd best pay closer attention.

"—will be your reward once you complete your first mission," The man's voice droned as though he'd said these words many time already today. "Now, if you'll step into this room?"