Three
Stepping from the ESED building, the city's energy was a stark juxtaposition to the corridors he left behind. Vendors shouted their wares, the air thick with a fusion of pollution and fragrances from street foods and the melodic cacophony of unknown dialects. Usually, Mo would relish such sensory delights, but today, with the long journey to Eclipsis and Harlon's words echoing in his ears, it was sensory overload.
He had selected a nondescript hotel in the Industrial Zone for his base of operations. Central yet unassuming, and equipped with the necessary quantum relays. Keeping a low profile, he tucked his badge away into his coat and made his way there.
The hotel’s lobby was alive with chatter. Checking in under the cover of an off-world consultant, Mo retreated to his room. The space was functional, yet stark. His routine began with a practiced ease. He set up his workspace and activated his Q-Pad, its screen casting a soft blue glow in the dim room. He activated his credentials, ensuring his network was shielded by UEA's unbreachable encryption. As he prepared to immerse himself in his work, a realization of fatigue swept over him. It had been a long flight from the Nexus mainstation to the system, then another long flight from the system hub to Eclipsis. As he thought back, he realized it had been almost a full cycle since he last slept. Sleep, however, proved elusive; the datavault drive's silent presence on the desk loomed in his mind, a reminder of the weighty task awaiting him.
Three restless hours later, as best Mo could estimate, he succumbed to the inevitable. He couldn’t sleep, not yet. Seated at his desk, he inserted Harlon's datavault drive. This action unleashed an onslaught of data across the Q-Pad's screen.
The enigmatic figure known as "the Unbound," leader of the Ascendents, loomed large, yet details were scarce. His influence, however, was evident throughout Eclipsis, and Mo had felt it during his brief exploration of the city. No known identity, no photos. A ghost, for now.
A recurrent symbol then caught his attention in the holo recordings from the last known locations of each victim. The emblem was foreign, very dissimilar from the cult’s known crescent iconography. In the case of Elara Vox, it was on the car, conspicuously painted just behind the rear window on the lower right side, marked with intention.
It was there again, in Dr. Caldwell's file, then in Senator Renard’s, and finally in Dahlia Thorne’s.
The symbol was constructed around three distinct spirals, each emanating from a different point. The spirals weren’t continuous; they were punctuated by an array of tiny symbols; they looked like dots and dashes. The configuration hinted at some kind of script, or perhaps a coded language. At the spirals' convergence, a pronounced void stood out—a perfect circle of deep black. The symbols were painted, or maybe inscribed, in a dark, inky black. The intricacy within each symbol suggested a method beyond manual human effort.
While the design was captivating, it was its sense of depth that truly arrested his attention. It possessed an illusion of motion, the spirals drawing everything into the void. Its precise placement at the sites of each disappearance, combined with its absence from any known databases, elevated its importance.
He wondered if the ESED had even conducted an investigation at all. How could Harlon not have mentioned it? The symbol didn’t match any of the cult's recognized insignias, nor was it archived in the extensive UEA records. Mo identified it as a lead, but there was something else, too—a personal intrigue.
Hours merged into a blur on Eclipsis, with no rising or setting sun to separate things. As he sat at his desk, combing through pertinent details about the case, his focus inevitably drifted every few minutes or so to the intricate spirals of the symbol displayed on his Q-Pad. For whatever reason, it distracted him.
Having completed his preliminary analysis of the data, Mo was ready to venture out and tie it all together. He decided to start with the last known location of Elara Vox. At a local production plant near the lot where her car was found, he observed the workers and approached a supervisor, a short but burly looking working class man. After a brief casual chat about the factory's output, Mo steered the conversation towards the case. The supervisor's eyes narrowed, instantly pinpointing Mo as a so-called ‘agency-man’ despite the absence of a badge.
“Who you with eh?” the man barked at Mo.
Mo subtly lifted his badge from his coat pocket and showed the supervisor before putting it back away quickly.
The man nodded and looked at Mo with distaste, but he wasn’t about to get himself into trouble with the UEA. "Vox? That corp bitch?" he spat with contempt. "Heard about it, I don't know nothin. But, honestly, can't say I'm in mourning."
“Why’s that?” Mo inquired at the man.
“Corps, man. Enforcers push quotas on most production around here. The ESED just does what the corps want. And we,” he pointed to himself and then waved his hand toward his workers, “We fuckin pay the price, don’t we?” he added.
Mo took out his Q-Pad, displaying the symbol. The supervisor leaned in, eyeing it skeptically.
"I don’t really know what I’m lookin at," he muttered dismissively. He abruptly turned back to oversee the floor, signaling the end of their conversation. Mo pocketed his Q-Pad. This wasn’t much help.
He wandered a bit and found himself standing at the edge of the abandoned lot adjacent to the plant, the site of Elara Vox's disappearance. He activated his OptiViz, scanning for any biological traces or anomalies. Despite his meticulous search, the lot yielded scant evidence. Considering several cycles had passed since the incident, Mo hadn't expected much, but it never hurt to look.
He called for a car and headed back to ESED headquarters to examine the vehicle from which Ms. Vox had vanished. In the lockup, he scrutinized the car. The symbol was gone, cleaned off. He concluded his examination without revealing his interest in the symbol or its conspicuous absence to the ESED staff.
Mo left the lockup with more questions than answers. The symbol’s removal either pointed to a cover-up or an attempt by the cult to hide their tracks. Either way, it solidified the symbol's importance in his mind.
