Tortus Bay

1.15: Arresting Conversations

Golden rays of sunlight roused Henry from a deep and dreamless slumber. He was laying on a beaten-in leather sofa in an equally beaten-in living room, with mushroom grey walls and brown carpet. A chipped glass coffee table held stacks of tattered fiction paperbacks. They were roughly sorted out into Romance, Mystery, and pulpy Sci-Fi. A book titled The Alpha Alien Patrol Saves Jupiter... Again! sat on the stack closest to the couch.

He found it comfortable, and comforting, after more than a week in the sterile and barren environs of the Tortoise Shell Inn. The only other piece of furniture in the room was a striped yellow armchair, upon which sat a spotted lab mix named Bruce. The dog regarded Henry curiously, head tilted to the side. His floppy ears twitched.

"Good morning."

"Good morning," Niles replied, rounding the corner and making Henry jump. Sleep still pulled at the man's puffy eyes, and his hair stuck straight up on the left side of his head. He bore two steaming mugs. "Like tea? It's black, with raspberry and honey."

"Sounds great." He sat up, acutely aware that he was still wearing his outfit from the previous day.

Niles looked from one graphic mug to the other. "Do you want 'Judith with Holofernes' or 'Giant Squid Attacks City?'"

"I'll take the squid."

"Thought you might." He set the chosen mug down atop one of the more structurally stable stacks of books, and took his own back with him across the narrow hall to the kitchen. "I'm making omelettes, to thank you for the company last night."

A long night, during which they hadn't talked about anything. By the time they got Bruce settled down and Henry had apologized a hundred times for stopping by so late, exhaustion had taken them both. Niles insisted that he take couch. "Why were you up so late, anyway? If you don't mind my asking."

"I went down to talk to the sheriff. Had to stand in a line." Niles spoke loudly to be heard across the hall and over the clattering of pans and the subsequent cracking of eggs. "She didn't take me seriously. Didn't take a single note. She told me that everyone has their 'own theories,' and that she's 'investigating every angle.' Whatever that means. I was too anxious to sleep, after that. Until you showed up. It's good to have somebody who understands."

Bruce, belatedly recognizing that the target of his curiosity was awake, stretched his way out of the armchair and padded over to sit on Henry's feet. "Were you close with Mathas Bernard?"

"I was. The man could be a bit arrogant, but he put his money into what he loved. Not anything that he knew even the first thing about, mind you, but the things he loved all the same. Plus, he always took me on for catering jobs. Take a look at that bookmark beneath your mug."

Henry scratched Bruce on the head while he negotiated his hot tea to safety and pulled an aged photograph out from within the yellowed pages of Alpha Aliens. It showed a visibly younger Niles, chin round and eyes bright, grinning over an elaborately decorated birthday cake. Standing beside him, giving a thumbs up, could be nobody but Mathas himself. The man was dressed in a suit that matched the grey tone of his receding hair, and there was a serene—if somewhat distant—smile plastered on his face.

A small group of people fanned out behind them, including Beth, dressed in bright yellow, and her sister Lucy, who looked as insubstantial as ever. Crowded around them stood several other people Henry didn't recognize, but who all bore the distinctive jagged jawline and dominant brow ridge that marked them as Brihtes. Behind them were a varied assortment of others, hovering a slight distance away from the family. The bald man from the Anderson warehouse waved. Aria Bethel glowered at the camera, and beside her Patty wore a confused expression.