Ben Archer Page 13

  He and Tike jogged to the nearest bus stop where they took the first bus to the Lonsdale Quay in North Vancouver. There, they hopped onto the Seabus that crossed the short sea arm to the City of Vancouver. Ben and Tike hopped onto the Skytrain heading to Burnaby, where he reached his apartment block. It felt like an eternity since he had last seen the low-lying, three-story building with twelve apartments.

  The boy hesitated, knowing there could be danger. He hid behind some bushes on the other side of the street, carefully scanning the area. Five minutes later a police officer walked out of the building, got into a police car, and drove away.

  “We’re in luck!” Ben whispered to Tike. He ran across the road to the back of the building, carefully making his way to the end until he was right below his own bedroom window.

  “Wait here, Tike,” he ordered. The dog sat down obediently.

  Nimbly, Ben grabbed onto the drainpipe, climbed onto the windowsill of the downstairs neighbour, and checked no one was inside. He pulled himself up until he reached his window. It opened smoothly as the lock had broken many years ago and had never been fixed. Swiftly, he dropped into his bedroom and looked out the window, making sure no one had seen him. Only Tike stared up at him, tail wagging and tongue lolling.

  Ben scanned his messy bedroom. He hopped across the room, avoiding a dirty plate, his Xbox controller, a bicycle helmet, and comic books. He failed to notice a football hiding under the hanging sheets of his bed. He kicked it accidentally with his foot. It rolled across the room and struck the door with a thud. Ben froze and listened for any noise coming from the apartment. All he heard was his thumping heart. He let out his breath in relief.

  He grabbed an old backpack and stuffed underwear, socks, trousers and shirts into it. Next, he crept across the hallway into his mother’s room, scanned it for any danger, and packed some clothing for her as well. He opened all the drawers hurriedly, searching for an extra asthma inhaler his mother might have kept tucked away. He found nothing.

  Once the backpack couldn’t hold another thing, he closed the zip, placed it on his shoulders, and left the bedroom to continue his search. A movement at the end of his mother’s bedroom made him jump before he realized it was only his reflection in a mirror. He wanted to kick himself.

  Pull yourself together!

  He stepped into the corridor.

  The man with black hair streaked with grey stood at the other end of it, waiting for him. He held up an asthma inhaler. “Looking for this?” the man taunted.

  Ben’s heart sank like a stone. He recognized the neatly dressed man from the funeral reception he had found handling his grandfather’s telescope.

  The man took out a badge with a picture ID. “James Hao,” he said, presenting himself again. “Inspector James Hao, from the Canadian Security Intelligence Service. I thought you might be needing this at some point.” He waved the inhaler at Ben before putting it into his trouser pocket. “I think you and I need to have that chat now.”

  Not on your life!

  Ben rushed into the bathroom, shut the door, and locked it. Not a split moment later Hao banged against it, shouting, “Open up!”

  Ben heard him call for reinforcements. He opened the bathroom window and threw the backpack out, narrowly missing Tike below. Ben had a leg out the window when he looked back, struck by a sudden idea. He jumped back into the bathroom and opened the drawers, frantically searching through the brushes, toothpaste, hair dryer and makeup.

  At the very back, in a corner, he found something he hadn’t expected to find but took anyway. It was his mother’s engagement ring–the one Ben’s dad had given her before he died and which she never wanted to wear. He shoved it far into his jeans pocket, then kept on searching. Ben was shocked to hear a banging on the apartment’s front door. He heard Hao open it and several voices flooded the apartment. He searched the drawer desperately, one last time. At the last minute, his fingers curled around something familiar.

  Got it!

  He pulled out his mother’s spare inhaler, feeling exhilarated. Holding on to it tightly, he dashed to the window and began to climb out. But all his hopes crumbled when the door crashed open. Hao rushed in, followed by another police officer.

  Desperately, Ben threw the inhaler out the window just before they grabbed his arms. He shouted, “Fetch, Tike! Find Mom! Hurry!”

  The two men pulled him back, Hao yelling down the corridor to another police officer, “Follow that dog!”

  Down below, Tike was bouncing around wildly in circles. As soon as he saw a police officer appear from behind the building, he grabbed the inhaler between his teeth and darted back in the direction they had come.

  The nimble Jack Russell ran as fast as his little legs would carry him. Even though he quickly lost the police officer, he charged on as if he was being pursued by hungry hounds. Being a smart dog, he did not have any trouble finding his way back to the Skytrain that he had taken with Ben over an hour ago. This took him back to the Waterfront Station where he zigzagged past commuters down to the pier of the Seabus. He slipped into the ferry that crossed the Burrard Inlet back to North Vancouver, then waited for the bus to Deep Cove to open its doors to let in passengers. When a little girl pointed out the dog to her mom, Tike scurried to the back of the bus where he lay down under a seat, shivering uncontrollably, his mouth painfully wrapped around the inhaler.

  By the time Tike got off the bus at Deep Cove, he was no longer running. He stooped low with his head down. He only stopped once to drink thirstily from a dripping water fountain before heading slowly to the marina where he found the motorboat safely tied up to the pier. The dog hopped into the boat, then sat down on the driver’s chair. He looked around expectantly. When no one showed up, he dropped the inhaler at his feet, his tongue lolling.

  The faithful terrier waited patiently for his master to appear until exhaustion took over. Then he curled up on the seat, his legs carefully wrapped around the precious inhaler as he closed his tired eyes.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Black Carpenters

  On the first floor of the Vancouver Police Department, in a small, windowless room with one table and two chairs, Ben waited. Although his heart fluttered with worry, he found himself distracted by a movement at the edge of the table. A carpenter ant crawled along its metal surface before heading down a table leg. Ben watched as it made its way to the floor before scurrying on towards the door.

  If only I were your size…

  In his mind’s eye, Ben became the insect that darted over the gigantic floor, reaching the slit under the door, the brightly lit corridor, the elevator, the way out…

  The door whipped open, and Inspector James Hao entered. With one colossal foot, he crushed the ant, making Ben jump as his vision of freedom went dark. The inspector sat down opposite Ben in his neatly pressed suit and perfectly trimmed hair. He dropped a file on the desk while scrutinizing Ben as he flipped through the pages. He picked out a couple of pictures which he slid across the table.

  Ben stared at them, puzzled. One picture showed pieces of glass, while the other had an enlargement of a fingerprint.

  “Seven weeks ago,” Hao began, “We recovered all evidence from the crash site that took place near your grandfather’s property. At first, we couldn’t figure out what these pieces of glass were doing in the middle of the field. When we put the pieces together, however, we realized it was the lens of a telescope with the faint trace of a fingerprint on it.” He pointed to the picture on the left. “The fingerprint turned out to be yours.”

  He studied the boy for a while before continuing. “We believe you were there, on the night of The Cosmic Fall. We believe you witnessed everything, yet you did not come forward with Ryan Archer, to provide your version of facts and, perhaps, invaluable information to national security.”

  Ben fidgeted in his chair, distracted by an ant that was tickling him on the leg. He was at a loss as to what to reply.

  “This isn’t a game, boy,” Hao gro
wled. “Our country, our very lives may be at stake. It’s imperative we find out if the culprits behind The Cosmic Fall are a risk to our nation, to our planet! I don’t know what game Ryan Archer was playing when he failed to mention your involvement. Were he alive today, he would have been arrested for interfering with an ongoing national investigation. So if he told you to keep silent, you had better think twice about that!”

  A heavy silence followed. Ben cleared his throat. “The thing is, I can’t remember anything. The doctor says I have amnesia…” he lied weakly.

  Hao didn’t look impressed. He took out another picture. Ben gasped as he saw the image of himself talking to Mesmo at his grandfather’s funeral.

  “I see your memory is already improving,” Hao said bitterly.

  Ben stared from the picture to the inspector, then back again, his face drained.

  “I want to know who that is,” Hao said. “And you’re going to tell me.”

  Someone knocked loudly on the door. Before Hao could respond, a bald man with an authoritative look stepped in.

  Twisted eyes!

  Ben turned white as a bedsheet and shrank into his chair in shock.

  Connelly did not heed him as he turned to Hao, saying, “I need to talk to you outside.”

  “Not now,” Hao replied impatiently.

  “This is urgent. It can’t wait.”

  Hao tapped a pen against the table impatiently, then got up, gazing down at Ben as he closed the button of his suit jacket. He gestured towards Bordock, presenting him to Ben. “This is Agent Theodore Connelly. He’s been an invaluable asset on The Cosmic Fall case. While I step out, I suggest you work on recovering your memory, kid. You wouldn’t want to get into more trouble than you already are in.” Hao left the room, oblivious to the long, cold glare that Bordock threw at the boy.

  The door closed, leaving Ben on his own again. His skin crawled, and his head exploded with questions.

  What is Bordock doing here?

  If he was frightened before, now Ben was terrified.

  ***

  “What is it?” Hao hissed impatiently at Connelly, as they moved down the hall to avoid being overheard by the police officer placed in front of the room where Ben was being held.

  “The Representative for the Children and Youth office is sending a lawyer to defend the kid,” Connelly said in a low, urgent voice.

  “A lawyer?” Hao exclaimed through gritted teeth. “I don’t have time to deal with lawyers! How did they catch wind of this so quickly?”

  “The office is automatically flagged when youth under the age of eighteen are arrested,” Connelly explained.

  “We can’t have a lawyer poking around!” Hao said angrily. “We need to get a clearance from High Inspector George Tremblay and transfer the kid to the Dugout as soon as possible!”

  Connelly insisted, “The local police are talking. They think we’re drilling an underaged witness without giving him proper representation.”

  “The local police can say anything they want,” Hao retorted. “This is a matter of national security! They have no idea what we’re up against! No, the CSIS has precedence in this matter! I’ll set all hounds loose on anyone who so much as approaches the boy.” He pointed his index finger at Connelly. “I’ll have Tremblay sign the transfer papers. That will allow us to override any questions from meddling lawyers or the RCMP. In the meantime, you keep an eye out. Make sure no one enters that room!”

  “Wait!” Connelly cut in urgently as Hao walked away.

  “What now?” Hao snapped.

  “I have an idea that might convince Tremblay to speed things up.”

  Hao blinked at him. “What are you talking about?”

  Connelly opened one side of his suit jacket, revealing a transparent vial that jutted out of his inside pocket. It contained a syringe and blood collection tube.

  “We need to take a blood sample from the boy and have it analyzed,” Connelly said.

  Hao held up his hands to hide the contents of Connelly’s pocket, glancing around to make sure no one had seen them. “Are you crazy?” he growled. “Not here, not now! There will be time for that later.”

  “No, hear me out!” Connelly urged. “I read in the files that the other witnesses had abnormal levels of lead in their blood after The Cosmic Fall. If the boy’s blood matches that of the other witnesses, we’ll have more undeniable proof that he was present. Besides, who knows what else we might find. Are we even sure he is who he says he is?”

  Hao shook his head. “You’re jumping to a lot of conclusions. A blood sample at this stage is out of the question. If the boy talks to anyone…”

  “He won’t talk.” Connelly interrupted in a convincing tone.

  “That’s beside the point,” Hao continued. “If something like this were to get out we’d lose our jobs faster than you can blink.”

  “I’d lose my job,” Connelly corrected. “I’ll take the sample. If word should ever get out, I’ll take the fall. I’m acting on my own. You’re not aware of anything.”

  Hao stared at him, unconvinced.

  Connelly insisted. “All I need is five minutes. Just think, if the blood reveals anything out of the ordinary, we’ll be able to get all the clearances we need.”

  Hao looked around nervously. “All right,” he said finally. “You have five minutes.”

  Connelly nodded, then turned away.

  Hao called him back, “For the record, I don’t like your methods. They’ve proven effective so far, but you’re on your own on this one. This conversation never took place.”

  Connelly nodded before heading to the interrogation room, while Hao took the elevator to the fifth floor where he began making phone calls from his makeshift office.

  ***

  Ben ignored a second ant that crawled slowly across the table. Instead, he had his hand clamped feverishly onto his wristwatch, praying silently for Mesmo to appear. To his dismay, the door opened, and Bordock stepped in.

  The boy and the bald man glared at each other. Fine sweat pearled Ben’s forehead as he cowered deep in his chair, feeling like a trapped animal.

  Without a word, Bordock shoved aside the second chair with his foot, then took out the transparent recipient, which he placed on the table. The ant scurried away. Carefully, Bordock opened the vial to take out the syringe and blood collection tube.

  Ben’s eyes widened. “What are you doing?” he asked fearfully.

  Bordock removed the plastic wrapping from the syringe, answering, “Taking a blood sample.”

  Ben shook his head in protest, unable to speak.

  Then, the alien pulled up the sleeve of his own, grey suit jacket and, still looking at Ben, pricked his own arm with the needle. Slowly, dark alien blood filled the syringe. Once he had filled it up, he pulled out the syringe, inserted the needle into the blood collection tube and transferred the thick liquid. He then stuck a small label onto the tube, writing on it with a black pen. BLOOD SAMPLE-BENJAMIN ARCHER.

  “That’s not my blood!” Ben croaked. “Why did you do that?”

  Bordock finished wrapping everything up again. “To make sure they have a reason to keep you,” he stated coldly.

  “Why?” Ben whispered, barely able to speak from fear.

  Bordock placed the recipient back in the inside pocket of his jacket. He squinted at Ben with his unnatural eyes, which changed from green to honey-brown. “For some reason,” he said, “wherever I find you, I find Mesmo. So, as long as you are here, I am confident he will be joining us at some point.” He straightened the front of his jacket, and added, “And if he doesn’t, then the CSIS will find him for me.”

  Outside, in the corridor, they could hear Hao arguing loudly with a woman. Bordock’s eyes narrowed threateningly. “You know what I’m capable of,” he hissed. “I wouldn’t say anything if I were you.”

  In that instant the door flew open, revealing a woman with blond, curly hair and modern, black glasses. She stared up and down at Connelly in a cond
escending way. “You! Out! I won’t have anyone talking to my client.”

  Ben was glad she didn’t notice the lethal look Bordock gave her as she placed a briefcase on the table. Addressing Ben in a business-like manner, she said, “You have the right to remain silent, Ben. You don’t have to answer any of these men’s questions. I’ll be doing the talking for you from now on. My name is Barbara Jones. I’ve been assigned by the Representative for Children and Youth to represent you.” As she clicked open the briefcase, she added, “In other words, I’m your lawyer.”

  She turned to face Connelly and Hao. The latter was seething at her from the corridor. “That will be all, gentlemen. You’ll be hearing from my office when I’m done.”

  She closed the door on them. Both men walked away with quick strides.

  “Did you get the blood sample?” Hao asked angrily.

  “Yes,” Connelly answered.

  “Get it analyzed ASAP! We need to put a stop to this right away,” Hao barked.

  ***

  Barbara Jones sat down. “It’s Benjamin Archer, right?”

  Ben nodded, taken aback by this sudden shift of power.

  She flipped through some documents in a very thin file, then pursed her lips, dissatisfied. “Well, they didn’t leave me much to work with. I only have a home address and that you avoided questioning by law enforcement.”

  She closed the file before staring at Ben over the rim of her glasses.

  “So,” she began, showing interest in him for the first time. “Let’s hear it.”

  Ben stared at her with his mouth open, “I…er…what do you mean?” He was excruciatingly aware of Bordock’s proximity.

  Barbara Jones moved forward in her chair, accidentally crushing a carpenter ant with her arm as she leant on the table. “Look, honey, my office had me move my schedule around just for you because you are a minor. I’m here to defend you, ok? That means that whatever you did, you can tell me. My job is to get you out of here as soon as possible.”