Forgery of the Phoenix by Michael Angel

Author:Michael Angel
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Publisher: Banty Hen Publishing
Published: 2016-07-30T21:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Three

Forging the messages didn’t make sense at all.

Unless whoever it was wanted to fool Korr. It was meant to make him take action. But was that action to summon me out to the Vale of the Seraphine? Or was it to do something else?

I realized that I didn’t trust Korr enough to confront him with my suspicions. It wasn’t that he had done anything outside of species-centric snobbery, but it seemed obvious that he was single-mindedly fixed on one thing: the survival of his people. I suppose that I couldn’t blame him for that.

My phone rang, startling me. The number on the display screen told me that Naomi was on the other end of the line, so I scooped up the receiver.

“Dame Chrissie,” I said. Then I nearly bit my tongue as I realized my slip-up.

“Dayna, it’s Naomi,” came the brisk reply.

Luckily, Naomi hadn’t caught my error. ‘Dame’ and ‘Dayna’ probably sounded just similar enough to miss if one wasn’t paying attention. Thank my lucky stars for that one.

“Naomi, I was just planning on calling you.”

“Yeah, I heard. I’ll let you know when Shelly shows up, okay?” The sound of rustling papers came over the speaker. “I figured you were holed up in your office and wanted to make sure you didn’t miss the meeting.”

“Um, thanks. What meeting?”

“The department heads are calling an all-hands meeting about that incident with McClatchy, Sims, and the rest.” I heard her take a breath. “I’ve been hearing rumors about what they’re planning to drop on us. All I can tell you is...you’re not going to like it.”

I hung up the phone and then headed out to the OME’s main conference room as soon as I could. The elevator on my floor was down for maintenance, so I had to take the long way around to the stairs. I ended up arriving at the tail end of the crowd that had filed into the conference room. Clutching my folder in my hand like a good-luck talisman, I sort of slid-walked my way towards the side of the room.

Luckily, I found an unoccupied seat at the end of a row about three down from the back. I had to crane my neck to see the department heads as they gathered to one side of the stage, but it was easy enough to make out the big silver screen the facilities people had set up next to them.

Whispers of curiosity and concern ran through the crowd. Everyone had heard of the shooting that had taken place, and they sure as heck had to deal with the traffic the last couple of days. Conversations faded away as the Director of the OME, a silver-haired woman with a pinched-looking face, stood and walked to the front of the stage. A lapel mike glittered from where it had been clipped to her dress.

“Everyone, thank you for joining us,” she began. “I’ve just been informed that the extra security surrounding the OME will be withdrawn by early this afternoon. However,

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