This idea popped into my head this morning, and instead of writing part 5 of The Long Walk Home, I decided to write this.
Originally, I thought it would only be one part, but it will be more effective as two. I really love this and think it is one of the most well-written pieces I have done, so far.
The water was cold upon diving into the pool, but a few laps helped him grow accustomed to it. Swimming was a part of his morning tradition; wake up, get something to eat, catch up on some local news, and then make a coffee, catch up on the main news stories from wider Confederation Space - "A Hauler Was Attacked By Pirates Near Thetis," "Independence Treaty: Another Colony World Wants To Break Away," "War: Arms Manufacturers Require Conflict," "A Looming Crisis: The World of Heriotic In Trouble - The Arachnids Who Produce Luxury Wears May Be Going Extinct."
The Last story was a 'what if' scenario, presented as an immediate threat to drum up some engagement. The arachnid creatures native to Heriotic were the main reason that the world was ameliorated, turning it from a farm colony to a high-end fashion powerhouse. Some of the top designer brands of Confederation Space operated from there. Most who wore those kinds of brands did so as a way of flaunting their wealth, or lack thereof, after paying the ridiculous prices demanded for the wears.
Lien Harcrow was never one to indulge in frivolous spending. Not on something as pointless as clothes anyway. He was much more interested in putting his money into things with real value, shares in big businesses and corporations, real estate, and of course, his moderate fleet of speeders - of which he had one for every day of the week, not that he would fly them that often. He had a run-around ship that was his main mode of transportation, and the others were more or less for special occasions; intended to be looked at, and looked after, until one day he might sell them, truth be told, he knew he'd never willingly part with any of them.
His wife on the other hand loved the idea of clothing, and would always note what someone was wearing, and she was up-to-date when it came to the latest and greatest pieces that anyone whose anyone should have in their collection. Her eye for fashion got her the job of a personal shopper, and since gaining clients she was often times out parading the high streets. As they say, when you love your job you'll never have to work. Lien thought to himself with a smile. Never a truer statement was said, the house made her happy, but it didn't give her continuous joy, neither did the dates at high-class restaurants and eateries, nor did the off-world trips. Everything became stagnant for her after a while, until shopping became her main passion; the best thing she ever did was find work in it, and never before had she greeted him with a smile as often as she did now.
He would always end his morning routine in the pool, and then a shower. The waters helped to wash away bad news, and would often give him time to ponder good news. Other than that, it was relaxing; feeling the muscles in his legs, chest, and arms grow tighter as the laps continued.
Lien rested an arm on the water's edge; holding himself suspended. Wiping the water from his eyes, and blowing away the excess liquid from his lips he decided to push himself. One more lap.
Cutting through the pool he grabbed handfuls of liquid, dragging himself closer to the end of his routine. Lien was tired, not that it would stop him. He didn't focus on the end of it, instead, he did what he always did in these situations. One more stroke, one more kick, one more pull. He never counted more than one, never told himself it was thirty, twenty, or even ten. It was always one away, and then one after that. Before he knew it, he was there, resting on the opposite wall, blowing away water, and clearing his eyes. In the back of his mind, he wondered if he would push for one more lap.
"Go until you can't anymore, then go some more." He always heard the voice of his drill instructor when it came to any kind of physical activity. Back when he was a Cadet, the drill instructor was in his forty's but didn't look it. In fact, Lien was shocked when the man died not too many years ago.
"Enjoying your swim?" A familiar voice rang out, echoing through the tiled walls of the room, dragging Lien from his daydream.
Startled, he let go of the wall, plunging into the water he tried to stay above, upon reemerging he saw who it was.
Mr. Voight was a walking ghost of a man. Pale, with wispy long dark hair - bald spot constantly covered by a hat, wearing a dark suit, that only helped to wash his face out further. He always looked sick, and even when he smiled there seemed to be some unknown treachery in his eyes. Lien owed everything to Voight - all he owned, every asset, everything.
"Dry yourself off. I'll wait for you in the kitchen." Voight said, before carefully turning around and walking to the fogged-up glass door. He stopped for a moment and looked back. "Don't keep me waiting too long."
"Do I have time to wash the pool water off me?" Lien asked, but without responding Voight left the room, leaving Lien alone with nothing but the sound of an echo as the door closed.
He walked into the kitchen, and Voight was standing in the corner; a brooding shadow, out of place with the immaculate and sterile white background.
"Please." Mr. Voight waved a hand to the table he stood behind. "Take a seat."
Lien walked to the end of the table - the side closest to him - and as he sat down Mr. Voight strode on air, slowly taking up his position at the head of it.
"It has been a while. I apologise for my absence." Mr. Voight said and as he finished, he rested his hands on the table; boney things that he joined together. "I trust you have had enough to keep yourself busy in the years since our last encounter."
"I have. Life has been good, with ups, and downs, but mostly, it has been normal." Lien replied, looking down at his own hands resting on the table; which were looking somewhat pruned from the water.
"It's time for you to do something for me." Mr. Voight said, without taking his eyes off Lien. "I trust you remember the terms of our arrangement?"
Lien threw his mind back to the time before all this. Back when he was struggling in a low-paying job, with nothing to warm his life apart from the dreams of a future deserving of someone like him. It was then that Mr. Voight found him, and offered a way up the ladder. "Nothing is free. When it's time to pay me back, I will let you know." It was a warning that concealed a threat, and ignoring the queasiness of his stomach, Lien agreed.
"I remember." The words fell out of his mouth cold, and bitter.
"You have a dinner coming up in the next few days, with candidate Taron Kint." Lien must have let an uncertain look slip out, which caused Mr. Voight to let lose a smile. "Oh, yes. I know about that."
The meeting was going to be kept out of the media, not entirely secret, but Taron said, "Don't tell anyone about this, I'd like to keep it under the radar." Lien told no one.
"If I may ask. How did you hear about that?"
"Shadows stretch before me in all directions and touch everything." Mr. Voight was still. His face, straight.
Mr. Voight took a small container out of his pocket, which rattled as he set them down on the table. He then unscrewed the lid and took one small white pill out of it and placed it beside the container, closing the lid.
"During your dinner, I want you to slip this into Taron's drink." Mr. Voight's voice sent a chill down Lien's spine.
"Wha.. Why? What is the pill?" Lien stammered, clambering for the right words, hoping that this was some sort of joke. Knowing Voight, however, he knew it was not.
"Don't worry, it is untraceable. It affects the heart and disguises itself as a cardiovascular episode." Voight picked the pill up, inspecting it, and showing it off to Lien as he spoke. "Do this, and you need not worry about any further re-payments. You can relax, settling back into all of this." Mr. Voight raised a hand, waving it to the kitchen, and in essence, he was presenting Lien with everything that he knew as being his life.
"He'll die?" Lien shook his head lightly and Voight nodded slowly. "But, why? Why do you want him dead?"
"Taron has been causing trouble. He is running on the grounds of an open-borders policy between Confederation Space and Free Space, along with this, he wants to return Bon-Alis to Free Space, and is also advocating for independence groups throughout the territory." Voight placed the container back in his pocket, leaving the pill on the table. "None of this would be a problem, but, he is gaining a lot of support from the people and has become a nuisance."
Voight stood up, and straightened his jacket.
"Wait, I can't do this. I won't." Lien tried to reason. "There has to be some other way to pay." He was sweating, and the perspiration increased as he looked up at Voight.
"I have nothing else I need from you." Mr. Voight shrugged, and something in the way he said it made Lien feel uncomfortable; questioning his own life expectancy. "Your wife is doing well in her work. Personal shopper, isn't that right?" Lien nodded slowly. "A good friend of mine is her top client. A friend of mine who is yet to repay a favour."
"I can't assassinate a candidate, in public." Lien said, and as he did he had a glimmer of hope that perhaps Voight could be reasoned with. "Is it so bad that relations with Free Space improve? We are at peace."
"Peace isn't something we receive through wishes. It is not something bestowed upon us. It is earned." Voight took a step forward, edging closer to Lien. "It can be earned with a battalion of men and women. A fleet of cruisers. In this case, a pill in the right drink."
Lien swallowed hard, and felt as though his throat seized up. "I don't know if I can." His voice was a whisper in the void.
"You have killed for peace before. That hell, that chaos. The fate of many things rests on your shoulders. Dissidence turns to Civil War very quickly, and Taron is the spark that will light an inferno if left unchecked."
Mr. Voight headed for the door to the kitchen, allowing Lien to stew. He stopped just shy of it and slowly turned to clock eyes with Lien's stare. "I do so hope I am not disappointed by the end of your dinner with Taron."