TCB Part 46: Epilogue (Cont.)

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Higgs woke to the sound of the breakfast bell. He stood up from his pallet and stretched like a cat. He hadn’t grown accustomed to the pallet, or the cold gray walls. He’d learned to live with the constantly burning oil lamps that lit his cell day and night. The smell had made him ill at first, now it was just a part of the background noise of the jail where he’d spent the last three months.

No trial had been held. He supposed these sorts of things didn’t require a trial so much anymore. He was fortunate that he hadn’t been sent to a work camp as a Technologist sympathizer. He wasn’t a sympathizer, though the recent events did nothing to endear him to the ruling party. Three months in jail without trial did that to a man. Still, he wasn’t about to press for a speedy trial. He was caught red handed, and there’s no way that a trial would improve his situation.

He stood by his cell door and waited for the jailer to flip the lever that would open the lock. He’d spent a lot of the time thinking about his life and where he went wrong. He’d thought his plan had been perfect. It was the little mistakes that did them in. When Charlotte ended up off the airship, she got the attention of the farmer who drove her to the city. When a hefty reward is offered, a poor farmer takes notice of the suspicious young woman he found near the site of the crime. A taxi driver tends to notice a pretty girl, and he’s quite likely to notice her suspicious behavior even more.

The door opened and Higgs began his habitual walk to the dining hall. Of course, if it was only Charlotte, he wasn’t sure that she would have given up the rest of them. She was a woman of principles, unlike Everton L. Montebanque. Judging by how quickly they were caught, he suspected that Everton had cracked immediately. He may have even run to the investigator on his own. No, Higgs suspected that it was the threat of what would happen to him if they labeled him a Technologist. They’d have had good reason to do so. Higgs couldn’t blame him for wanting to make a deal, but he wished it hadn’t cost so much for everybody else.

Higgs was in line to get his breakfast when a guard called his name from across the room. He approached ominously and grabbed Higgs by the upper arm. He roughly led Higgs into a windowless room with a table and two chairs. He pointed at one of the chairs and told Higgs to sit. He complied and the guard left the room, locking the door behind him. Higgs stared at the two-way mirror in the wall across the room. He wondered who was on the other side. Was this when he would finally be sent to trial? Or worse?

The city’s police chief walked into the room and sat in the chair across from Higgs. He was a short, overweight man, who compensated with bravado and a tough façade. “You’ve got some friends in high places, you know that, Thurmond Higgs?”

Higgs sat silently, not seeing any reason to respond to the clearly rhetorical question. He simply sat, hands folded in front of him at the table. His face showed no emotion as he looked the other man in the eye. He would accept his fate, whatever it was.

“I hate that you’re going to get away with this. You should know that I’ve got my eye on you, Higgs. Every step you take, each conversation you have, every moment of your life, we’ll have people watching you. I suggest you find a new place to call home.”

Higgs didn’t react visibly, but he responded calmly. “I’m afraid I don’t catch your meaning.”

“The charges have been dropped. You’re free to go.” The chief stood and walked toward the door. He stopped when he got to the doorway, then turned around slowly. “Oh, and this was left for you.”

The officer tossed an envelope, which landed on the table across from Higgs. He picked up the envelope and put it in his pocket. It was heavier than he expected. He followed a guard out of the prisoner block and into the police headquarters. He signed a few papers and then walked into the city, a free man again.

He breathed a deep breath, and for the first time in his life, the smell of the city seemed sweet and fragrant. Little had changed in his time in the jail. The abandoned skyscrapers still loomed overhead while plump, white airships carried passengers across the skyline. Smokestacks still pumped endless streams of smoke and steam into the air, keeping the economic engine of the city alive and thriving. He was certain that the city beneath the city functioned the same as always. He knew that he could never re-enter that society, not in this city, perhaps elsewhere.

He remembered the envelope in his pocket. He pulled it out and turned it over. The ornate letter L of the wax seal was not one that he knew offhand. He opened it and pulled out the paper inside. The note was short: Whatever the cost, it was worth it. Thank you, my friend. Box 38

There was a key in the envelope. He examined it, and noticed the Victorian Bank logo engraved on the side. He smiled as he walked across town toward the bank. Perhaps everything would work out for the best in the end.