Cryo Knight: Lords of Valeria

Chapter One

The lawyer stared at Christian over thin wire-rimmed glasses and smoothed down his shirt for what felt like the hundredth time.

Christian stretched his neck which gave a satisfying crack. The lawyer fiddled with his pen. Perhaps he had never had a high security prisoner like Christian sat before him, wearing the too small prison-issue gray hoodie and sweatpants that stretched across his muscular six foot two frame.

Christian had never trusted these suits with their cocooned, comfortable lives. He could tell by one look that this guy had never held a gun; never watched as the life drained from a man.

The lawyer's eyes flicked over the scars on Christian's face: one from a bullet that had grazed the side of his head and a second from a fist fight that that cut into his lip.

He was used to these looks from civilians. He should take off his shirt and show the lawyer the two bullet marks that had earnt him his silver star medal.

Instead, he stared back until the lawyer looked down.

In Christian's hands the e-paper glowed. He read over the document again.

Dear Christian Lawson,

Re: Estate of James T. Lee

Our firm, T.C. & Sons LLP, represent the estate of your uncle, Mr. James T. Lee. Please find enclosed with this letter a copy of the last will and testament of Mr. Lee.

You are the declared heir.

Mr. Lee instructed our office to have him declared legally deceased should he be missing or presumed dead for a period of two years. Mr. Lee was reported missing over two years ago and remains missing today. We have obtained an order from the court declaring him legally deceased. As such, we are to distribute his property in accordance with his will.

Should you be in agreement with the transfer of his assets to you, we respectfully request that you sign this acknowledgment.

Sincerely,

J. William Buchanan

[PRESS YOUR THUMB HERE]

The signature thumb-print tab on the e-paper flashed a light green.

Christian's memories of his Uncle James flowed through his mind. He had, in all honesty thought his uncle had forgotten all about him by now. Uncle James had been involved in the tech sector and done well, so he'd often been busy. Christian hadn't seen the man in a decade.

As a kid, his uncle had been kind to Christian, and usually sympathetic towards his mother and her addictions. A distant, thoughtful man, big and broad like Christian but pudgy from office-work. They shared their Asian-Caucasian ancestry and they had the same dark brown eyes and thick brown-black hair. Christian always wore his hair buzzed short though it had grown out now courtesy of the cryojail.

From Christian's recollections, his uncle had visited him on his birthdays or holidays and always brought him books. He also remembered how the visits got less frequent and shorter over the years when suddenly the memory of one of the last visits came back perfectly.

"Think of the boy!" his uncle had begged his mother, practically crying and gesturing at Christian who must have been ten or so at the time. "For Christ's-sake if you can't pull yourself together for you, please do it for him."

"Screw you," his mother slurred.

"Let me take care of him. I'll give you whatever you need but you can't carry on like this."
"I said get out. You won't take my son and I don't need your lecturing!"

He used to hold resentment against all his mother's family as she got worse. It had felt like they had done nothing for her as she spun down the well of alcoholism. As he got older, he understood how they'd tried and failed, though it wasn't enough to warm his feelings for them.

He too, had eventually left her, taking up a gun in one hand and the flag of the republic in the other. He was sent around the world and used as a discreet blade of the republic. If he had wanted to be closer to her, he knew deep down he could have been.

The lawyer cleared his throat. "Mr. Lawson?"

Christian blinked, suddenly back in the little office and keenly aware of the annoying hum from the strip lights.

I need to get out of here.

He pressed his thumb against the e-paper and his uncle's house, belongings and small savings became his own.

"Thank you," the lawyer said. He took an uncomfortable breath. "And welcome back. Due to Mr. Lee's generosity you now have a home and even some credits in your account, though you may want to consider saving that for your trial."

"What happened to my uncle?"

"No idea," the lawyer said. "Here one day and gone the next. Police found nothing. It's lucky in some ways that you were in cryo, avoiding suspicion and all that. He didn't disappear alone. Another biomechanical doctor from his former company disappeared with him. The whole thing is a total mystery."

The lawyer smiled at Christian thinly. "You know, I understand you have a lot to process. But if I may be so bold, my firm would be an excellent choice to use in your forthcoming trial. I recall your case very well. I mean, it was all over the news. Terrible what happened, all those poor people not to mention our soldiers. But despite that, we could represent you. You're going to have trouble finding anyone else in the legal community that will touch you."

Christian swallowed hard. For just a second, he was back up in the Altai mountains. His boots crunching in the snow as he stepped through the bodies, their fingers frozen like frosted gnarled twigs, looking for the body of his love, Iryna. He took a breath, forced the image out his mind, and instead imagined how good it would feel to reach across the table, grab the lawyer's tie and smash his face onto the tabletop.

But he had no intention of going back into cryo so soon.

"I'll think about it."

"Of course. Here are the three items your uncle had in his lockbox at our firm." The lawyer reached into his satchel, pulled out a small box and flicked it open.

"This key-card is for the house. I presume this signet ring is some kind of family heirloom and finally this strange key. I am afraid I have no idea what it's for." The lawyer placed the three objects in front of Christian and flicked the box closed. He began packing his things away.

Christian examined the small collection in front of him. The key was strange, shaped like an asterix with eight-small points. He held up the signet ring. It reminded him of the family signet rings some of the officers from older families wore in the military. The crest on it was a shield with a hammer and a sword crossing each other. But it was no family heirloom. He'd never seen this before in his life.

Just what the hell did you get yourself involved with, uncle?

He slipped the ring on his right ring finger and it fit perfectly. He turned his hand to a fist.

Every part of his life had been a fight. With the trial on the horizon, it seemed like that wouldn't be ending anytime soon.

He scraped the items off the table, shoved them into his pocket and left.