Insect Charter: Arrow's Divide Chapter 6 part 2

Once outside the main office, Marion walked behind a part of the building that faced away from the street. She lean herself against the worn wall, and looking at her watch. She then heard a low voice from near-by. The whispers of a deep feminine voice filled the darkness with unseen dangers, as the voice too was a presence that carried mystery. Her eyes moved towards the void, where she saw a figure came out from the shadows as if it was a stalker creeping along the walls.

 

“Howdy, seems my eyes have the pleasure of seeing ya’ again girl,” said the figure in an abrupt tone. Marion said nothing in reply, as she resumed to lean against the wall. Looking up she inhaled the night air, before she turned to look back at the figure. The dim ember light now outlined the figures silhouette. The bars on the windows drew small lines across a rodent’s face.

 

A thick trail of smoke glided its way around long whiskers, leading to a cigarette that was more of a burning smokestack. She had white fur that nearly turned gold in the ember light. Dark green eyes sparkled like the emerald pinstripes on her trousers. Flowing amber colored hair veered wildly under her hat as though a cork was about to fly off the bottle. She wore an unbuttoned coat of faded yellow with a dark green collar. Underneath the coat, polished irons glowed in the same vibrancy as the large bandoleer of brass and lead around her chest.

 

“Evening…” Marion stopped as the odor of smoke clouded her thought. The figure unmoved by Marion’s discomfort continued, “Sorry if I be prancin’ without a-care after our little escapade. Now I don’t hold caution to what Baranov be spoutin’, but chasing ‘em fools was nothing but a-road of trouble. Of course that bird be as stubborn as the day his beak sipped the syrup.”

 

Marion said nothing her eyes glanced at the figure before she tilted her head down.

“Oh I see girl, eyes of scarlet cannot hide what ya’ don’t say. Word be words, and I don’t have to know that ya’ went and gone done some’n bad. Tell me girl… what ya’ be hiding behind that flat smile that I ain’t already heard in the reports?”

 

Scoffing Marion tilted her head up, “I ain’t gonna take no lecture from some yella Podunk spouter! I know what I did. Without fuss Iron Press, tell me whom they be? That I know my Iron wasn’t pressed without burden?”

 

“Girl, in my line of profession, kill’n folk can be horrifying or fun dependin’ who they be. I’ve done my share of work prior to our meetin’. Considered me unmoved by the weepy-eyed girl ya’ exhibit. But that ain’t why Baranov keeps the likes of ya’ around. Even in the face of uncertainty, it takes one of hidden potential that even a fool with the blessing of heathen god cannot bend to the likes of ya’. Even then, ya’ done got the short straw girl. Turns out that picture you found, has some scary eastern fools attached to it. Once I’d familiarized myself with that them picture. Seems my mind wasn’t foolin’ when I said I had some history with one of its members.” Iron Press said as she took another drag from her cigarette. 

 

“How scary are we talking? Ostsonne Staaten (Eastern Sun States), Antennomac, United States of Palm?”  Marion said in rapid succession. Iron Press held up her hand, “Middle one. Turns out they be university types ya’ don’t want poking around. Real spooky like.”

 

“University?” Marion said in an expression that carried a tone of laughter.

 

“I’d reckon. Now the school in that photo ain’t even real. I ain’t talk’n about no backdrop and such. The place and name “Cleere” doesn’t even exist, except in concept. What my contacts found back east is interestin’ however ambiguous. Cleere is what ya’d call a secret student corporation. If you ain’t familiar with this type, it typically comprises a body of members with ties to other schools and organizations from all over the world. However they have little to no contact with each other directly expect through a representative whom oversees the group and its activities. Senior members rarely interact with anyone but their representatives. Conversely “nearly” everyone in the photo grew up in the Western Antennomac region of Hanover that I’d almost suspected it was just another aristocrat organization playin’ mask. Yet again “nearly” is the word.

 

Now the thing is, none of ‘em in Cleere lived near each other as all grew up in separate cities and towns. Even social status be all over, that ya’ could blindly draw lines and still would be no closer then if ya’ spent months trying to find a correlation. I would have suspected they shared a connection to nationally, typical for a corporation. These types of groups always have their own goal and positions in society. Some often work to better the world or nation. Others are proxies or spies for their government while abroad. Think of it as this, “You have the youngest and brightest minds in one location, that a little cozying on up might yield future benefits or attention.” “Even the powerful business elite has their programs and scholarships for their own ends. With so many known and unknown corporations operating among each other, it helps to have someone on the inside to see what’s happening inside these groups. Thus ya’ have groups existing among groups. Which alone could carry an unknown goal. Though I’d add it is often a less than elaborate one. Typically national interest is what most groups want… maybe. You know how nationalist those eastern states be. Even them renowned Student Corporations are known for this.

 

Cleere is something else all together. It’s an independent organization separate from the Colleges Foundations as it is a group that works inside many of its organizations.

Now, this Mr. Z character you described is drawing blanks in my networks and other connections. Since we do not have an image to go off, let alone his body was taken from the train before it could be examined. Not to mention a bat in these parts, foreign or otherwise is too common to narrow down whom he really was. The Pin he wore drew another blank.  Based of what you told me I would have thunk he would have been the leader while Mr. Mandez was the representative for the group, as it seems your bullet scrambled the brains of the operation that it’s up in the air as what they could be planning.

 

 

Conversely, Joshusa Thame better known as his alias Carlos Mendez, is that “Nearly” bit I mentioned. Lived most of his life in Los Alamos, until he attended college in Alberni. Had connections with the University Affairs Foundation. Never was a full-fledged member of the organization. Upon his return home however he became a go-to for groups wanting to operate in the colonies following Südkonferenz (South Conference) in 66’. While he worked for the many corporation factions during the scramble he preferred working for the Cleere group over the seasons. Think of him as a their personal expert in colonial affairs. If there were a connection to the group in that photo, then it would have come from his father. His father, Dr. Emil Bahr was born in Hanover and was a member of the Antennomac Student Corps at the university of Rouen. Dr. Bahr was a relatively unknown Germologist when compared to the other minds from that region. About all that he is known for was his discovery in the cause of “Timbers Fever” in 55’. So my best bet is that his father’s connections are what drew him to the Cleere group. His relationship to Charely Bleser is unknown other than “best friend”. His relationship to his younger brother Wilhelm is also unknown. 

 

When I saw the name Wilhelm Bleser in that photo, things began to spin. While I never knew he was apart of the Cleere group. I only knew him when he was in the student corporation “Ivory Castle” and his time in “Cutthroat”. The first group played in the shadows for the kicks and giggles while the second was the real deal. An even interesting bit I found out when I start poking to see what has become of the second group. A trusted source of mine told me Cutthroat changed “management” in recent seasons. Now none of the its representatives or senor members died like you’d expect during a take over. Nevertheless all of its younger members stayed with the group during the transfer of power. They’ve since fallen under the rule of “The Midnight Society” an umbrella of organizations lead by Montague.”

 

“Montague?” Marion said in a confused manner, as the name had been thrown around her mind without any meaning since hearing it.

 

“Ain’t it kinda strange wouldn’t cha think? I know that surprised me too. That alias has been going around the League for sometime. Montague first appeared nearly ten seasons ago, following a series of gruesome murders at the 68’ Alexandria World’s Exposition. Never caught the killer as they disappeared without a trace. Then in 72’ Montague reappeared, this time killed several known university fellas. You could say they priced the Vaile of the Universities. Since 74’ Montague made waves in both the Scholar and Criminal underworld back East with their Midnight Society. From the Antennomac, Ostsonnereich (Eastern Sun Empire), USP, and the Citrus Isles, They have been rumored to have been engaging in all matters of villainy that their goal still remains unknown. Now them being all way out here in the Barren is too strange.”

 

  

“Hmmm… big time shines be at the doors now. What does Baranov think of the matter?”

 

“He handled that matter as well you think a drunken owl would. The ones you turned to paste kept the Owl happy, it’s the one you didn’t get that has him paranoid to the point that he has been keeping the lid of who they are, between us. The down low, if ya’ get my meaning girl? Now I have no idea of Montague’s role in the West is, but their associate Mr. Book brings more to the table on his role here. Wilhelm Bleser also known as Mr. Book is the one that got away. He has since gone dark following Powell, so his whereabouts are unknown. I still cannot believe he’s here. He had been making his own waves before Montague’s takeover of Cutthroat in 75’. What he has been doing since is unknown at the moment.”

 

Iron Press growing tried of talking then asked Marion if her months of research in Rubin yield any fruit. Marion in tone of uncertainty said, “Rubin he’s something, never met a Jack like him. Got those lustful eyes that would make some young fool fall for him, but danger lurks like the juice of a passing vapor mix after dinner.”

 

“Yeah I’d seen him walking out of the ward, kind of hard to miss a figure of note. Coppa’ Gal was rather uppity upon her departure. Strange one, don’t know too much about her, though my mind has been on Cleere. Regardless of her, did he agree to help?” Iron Press asked

 

“Help? I assume so… I am caring for his young'un for the next few months. He and Copper Maiden leave tomorrow, as do I. Our insurance policy, in case the jack gets any ideas. I must admit he was more upfront than with most folks.”

 

“Ooooh, Insurance policy ya’ll make it sound official.” Iron Press raised her hands in a ghostly fashion, though her comical effect was elevated when she dropped her cigarette on the floor. She gave pause, then reached down to pick it back and place it back in her mouth.

 

 

“What about you? Don’t you have a standard to maintain your trade?” Marion said

 

“Oh we in the Journalism league get our share of standards. Though ya‘ wouldn’t notice after the humiliating display of journalism following Padrón. It be a mockery to our livelihood. Still say what you will, our ears or antennae be closer to seeking truth than a pistol to the neck.” Iron Press said to Marion, her glance caused Marion to look down. Resuming she says, “Blood spills by gallon, and the hand that points towards it tires to hide its own mess. So we take a step back to look and see the puddle near the river. Baranov needs an eye from afar for we know where the River leads.”

 

“River?” Marion said in a laughing tone.

 

“Could be” Iron Press was then cut off by Marion, “You know I ain’t being fooled. Don’t trust him, even if he holds a sense of honesty. Someone like that don’t just come back to settle old grudges. There is something else about him, I have heard enough stories about him, yet there are gaps in places and his story. When I listened to him talk about Tuxpan, I get a feeling that he’s hiding more than he is letting on. If the Terror of the Barren wanted him dead she would’ve sent more than just a couple pokers to deal with an old scum like him. I would have bet she would have been gone all the way to Baja to see him killed. That is until she got caught up in terrorizing Pattern. She’s is being monitoring by them, so I wouldn’t have no idea what she is actually doing in Jalisco. Regardless of her, my aim aside from watching the young’n, is see where and how Kosse got his hands on the Black Dust Stone.”

 

“Black Dust Stone”

 

“The black mark, when Copper Maiden emitted that word it suddenly put the old jack on alert. All my time working on this project I never heard of such a thing as I was tasked in finding Rubin. I’ve heard of Snowfall enough times that I now loathe winters.   

I heard Mr. Z mention that he was staling Affairs from snooping that I strongly suspect he’s trying to hide skeletons, either from himself or a group within the organization. Perhaps Affairs doesn’t even know about the stone and just think he died in a random case of student infighting. With all that’s happening, it seems like we should pay a visit to a University Affairs branch office. See if there’s any abnormal activity going on between student corporations in the Barren then I bet there’s good chance they would be keeping a keen eye on it.”

 

Iron Press now stood with more interest, “I’ll drum up some ideas on where to go, though I’m going need more time. My contacts in the East have been rather silent. They were not about to fully talk about such groups over the wire, even with amount of code phrasing it took to decode the messages. Still Baranov is less sympathetic towards delays. So I must take an immediate leave.”          

 

“Fine, fine” she paused “I could meet them personally.” Marion said

 

“No need, I will be trailing behind after I meet with my contacts.”

 

“Behind?” “Baranov got you tailing me now? He’s that spooked?” Marion asked.

 

“Yes Girl, those spooky fellas could strike again. I bet Mr. Book is itching to get his hands on you again, but there is something else afoot. Don’t know what it could be, but something big is going on. Even I have been on the need to know basis from the Owl. However fear not, you shall hear from me again when the time is right. Have a safe travel on those dusty roads.” Iron Press gave Marion a smug expression that caused her to retract from the wall before retaining her self-control.