BLADESTORM

8.Paris Shoes & Aplot Fardel

Chapter 8: 94.7 the River Knife Radio DJ Announcement

SOMETHING GONE WRONG.

PARIS FOUND A LEAK IN APLOT'S PLAN.

ONCE THE PUBLIC DISCOVERS, HE WILL BE DESTROYED

THIS SUMMER, HE WONT LET THAT HAPPEN

WHAT PARIS KNOWS EARNS HER

A ONE WAY TICKET TO THE ICE MACHINE

SHE WAS THE HOTTEST CUBE IN THE FREEZER
NOW SHE'S OUT BEHIND THE WHEEL

ON THE RUN FOR HER LIFE

SOUND LIKE PARIS COULD USE A FIX!

Int. Fardel Enterprises. Day

Paris stood before Aplot Fardel with bad news, and she could feel the weight of it bearing down on her. "We ran tests exactly as you approved," she began, choosing her words carefully. "We gathered technical difficulties leading to an accumulation of silicon dioxide in a conversion tank. It regrettably leaked, damaging the machine, crystallizing the roof."

Aplot Fardel's expression remained stoic, but his eyes turned, betraying his hidden concern. "Oh, Paris," he sighed. "A crystal palace?" He raised his eyebrows with suspicion and nodded in disagreement. "What is the cost of information when we can't trust what we hear? These days I get the feeling my job is containing the spread of misinformation instead of addressing my Design. Have faith, Paris. It is my experience that when you raise problems that are not in your best interest, you should simply keep your mind on your inner work and leave matters of Fardel security to me. No need for panic. Paris, I'm sure you understand."

Paris understood and turned around to leave. There was something more pressing that she needed to discuss and before she delayed any longer, she thought otherwise—he's not going to believe a word that she says, anyway.

Aplot stopped her. "Before you go, there is one more thing." She hesitated, bracing herself for Aplot's question. "It has come to my attention that today a Wanted Pitch from the Music Guild broke into the Ice Machine."

Paris' eyes narrowed ever so slightly. "Go on."

Paris hesitated for a moment, debating whether to reveal the truth. She knew the consequences could be severe.

"Listen carefully, Paris—the sanctity of your everlasting soul depends on it," Aplot's voice grew somber. "Did you have any personal contact with this Pitch?"

"No, I didn't," she finally admitted. "Well...we didn't—I was with Jason. But the Pitch dropped a book when he leaped over the fence and disappeared."

Aplot Fardel's expression remained unreadable as he leaned back in his chair. "Low Coherent Informa does not suit you, Paris, but it is for picking up that treasonous songbook that you have been selected for Refinement." Aplot revealed Windy's songbook.

Paris's heart sank as she realized the gravity of the situation. How did he get his hands on that book so fast? "No. I found it on the ground," she protested.

Aplot Fardel raised an eyebrow. "These are Recipes for the Sounds to be Pronounced. Guild members write authentic songs that are administered like medicine. They are called Fixes. Can you imagine if every member at Fardel Well could refuel just from listening to a song?" He waited for an answer, his gaze unyielding. "We would be out of business. Fortunately, I have intercepted this document...no harm done. This is very dangerous information. One can never be too careful in times like these."

Int. Ice Machine. Day

Paris returned to the Ice Machine Control Room, her mind racing. She needed to warn Jason. As she entered, she couldn't contain her fear and anxiety any longer. "When the Pitch broke in," she began, her voice trembling, "he dropped his songbook. I didn't tell you because you shouldn't get involved. I thought it was just an old notebook, but I was wrong! It's full of music and danger! Aplot knows. I don't know what to do. He didn't believe me. The Ice Machine leaks."

Ice crystals built up at the base of the machine. Jason used a broom and pan to sweep up and dump them into the trash. He turned away from Paris. His face betrayed his naivety. "All I ever wanted to be was a Pitch for the Guild," he confessed in a low voice. "My inner work is in the best interest for my everlasting spirit. That's what Aplot told me. So, I joined the Fardels instead. I knew the book was in your desk. I couldn't help myself. I just had to look."

Paris's eyes widened with disbelief and betrayal. "It was you!" she exclaimed, her voice trembling with anger and hurt.

"I sang one of the songs in the book," he admitted.

Paris struggled to comprehend the magnitude of Jason's actions. "Why are you doing this?" she begged, her voice filled with desperation.

Jason's face contorted with a mixture of conflicting emotions. "Your soul is lower than mine, and I still love you. That doesn't make any sense!" He turned to the door and shouted, "Windbreakers! In here!"

The Windbreakers, Aplot Fardel's private police force, entered the room swiftly. Paris was outnumbered and overpowered. Soon, she found herself hooked up to the Cryo-Apparatus, her limbs restrained.

Aplot Fardel entered the room, his presence radiating authority. He stopped Jason with a single gesture, his gaze cold and calculating.

As Aplot Fardel prepared to initiate the Cryo-Apparatus, Paris's voice broke through the tense silence. Why are you doing this?" She demanded, disbelief evident in her eyes. Aplot spoke in a measured tone . "Because the answer is extremely simple. I'm going to let you find it on your own time. Of course, you'll have all the time in the world during your process of refinement."

Paris' anger turned to realization, and her eyes widened in shock. "God dammit, Aplot! Your brother betrayed you! He secured a loan against the inventory in the Ice Machine. The Ice Machine is broken! The crystals are all over the floor. Jason's throwing them in the trash! Do you even know what they are!?!"

Aplot Fardel's demeanor remained calm and composed. "The main objective of crystallomancy is to help you understand your difficulties and begin to change them."

Paris's voice grew more fervent as she fought against her restraints. "This is criminal mismanagement!" she cried out.

Aplot Fardel's voice took on a solemn tone. "Dust has covered your discernment, and before the dirt spreads further, there should be no perceptions left unclear or measurements misunderstood."

"You're mad!" Paris's voice wavered with a mix of anger and desperation.

"While it is true that freezing your soul and preserving your Nature Essential in a crystalline form may seem to imply that I am your enemy, this could not be further from the truth," Aplot declared, with a steady gaze. "We are here to live happier and healthier lives. To do that, we want to preserve your Essential Nature and contain your energy whose market value is increasing by the minute."

A sense of dread settled over Paris. "Take care not to undermine the fruit of your own refinement," Aplot continued, his voice unwavering. "Paris Shoes, you have been charged."

Aplot Fardel pushed the red button. Paris vanished in a puff of cold vapor and out from the ceiling fell a crystal shard. Surprised, Aplot catches it in his hand and holds up the crystal to the light. "Impressive."