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It was a cloudy Saturday, and Joey was waiting at New Lisbon Central Station. The city was not the country's political capital, but it was certainly the heart of the economy. It wouldn’t be an understatement to say that this city was the world's financial heart, pumping life-giving sirenia to the rest of the planet.

The majestic station had lines upon lines of railways that linked it to the rest of the continent. Adjacent to the station were the Aquilae Airport and the New Lisbon Port. They were all neatly designed and impressive constructs. Unlike other cities that kept building new atop of new, this city had practically appeared from thin air a hundred and fifty years ago when the formula to make sirenia was discovered, and commercial exploration of this lake began.

Joey looked up at the giant clock at the center of the three mega transportation structures. Rendezvous Clock, as it was called, marked ten fifteen in the morning. When people wanted to meet up, they often met there, hence the name. He appreciated how horses tied to the giant clock crank went about their daily march to wind up the giant timekeeping behemoth.

The commissioner had told him to come here to pick up the ambassador from the Science Academy. He thought back to the conversation. When asked why, he had said, "This is a weird case, and you're the weirdest investigator I have. You're a good fit for this assignment." He still wasn't sure if this had been a humorous jab or if the commissioner thought him weird.

He checked the dark plaque on which he had written in white chalk the name of the invited investigator, Professor Lincoln. It was very impressive that the mayor could get a member of the Science Academy in New Lisbon within a week of the incident.

Since he knew the train on which Professor Lincoln would arrive, rather than waiting at the Rendezvous Clock, Joey waited patiently at the platform to which the professor would be arriving any minute now. He felt something tug his trousers.

“Mr. Constable, can I see your badge?” A little girl with two ponytails and a cute lime green dress was calling for his attention. A few steps away, the constable spotted the girl’s mother lovingly smiling, watching the little girl ensure she was well-behaved and polite. The constable slightly bowed and touched his hat in greeting. The mom nodded and gestured an apology for the girl’s boldness. Joey crouched to be at the same eye level as the little girl.

“Of course, ma'am. I'm Constable Joey. What’s your name?”

“I’m Eliana, but my friends call me Lilly.” The girl turned the constable's badge over in her hands, entranced by it. “One day, I'm going to be a constable too!”

“Are you? That’s fantastic.”

“Are you here looking for bad guys or thieves?” She accusingly pointed a finger at one other child standing next to the girl’s mother. “My brother stole my cookie from me earlier and called me ugly. Can you put him in jail?” The girl’s brother hid behind his mother, realizing his sibling was accusing him. Joey laughed at how adorable this situation was.

“Well, I don’t think your little brother has a criminal record. Why don’t I let him go with a warning this time?” Lilly smiled triumphantly at her brother.

“Can I draw on your chalkboard?” The constable spared a glance at the time on Rendezvous Clock. There were no signs of the train either. He could spare a few minutes. “Sure, Lilly. Here is some chalk. Go ahead.”

Seeing that the constable wasn’t going to arrest him, Lilly's brother towed his mother along and curiously tried to make out what his sister was drawing.

“I'm sorry, officer. Are the children bothering you?”

“Not at all, madam. Entertaining law-abiding children is my favorite part of the job. Waiting for someone?”

“Yes, officer. My husband. He is coming back from a business trip to the capital. The children are very excited to see him. Isn’t that right, children?”

Lilly excitedly drew on the chalkboard with the chalk. “Tony, you will never guess what this is!”

“Hmmm… I need to see more.”

Joey looked over the girl’s shoulder to try to make what she was drawing. Was that an octopus? He could make out a spherical shape with one big eye in the middle. Tentacles or roots coming out of it. What in the world was this girl drawing?

“I know, Lilly! It’s Ambyssus!”

“Ah. You’ve got me. Your turn, Tony.”

“Ambyssus?” Asked Joey to the children. There was that word again. He'd been hearing it more and more lately. “What is an Ambyssus?”

The children looked at him, surprised.

“Constable, you don’t know who Ambyssus is?” Asked Lilly, disbelief in her voice.

“Constable, Ambyssus is a very smart cookie!” Added Tony, excitedly.

“Why does it only have one eye?”

“Because one is more than enough. It’s a very good eye."

"Yes, constable. Ambyssus has an eye for business.” The constable chuckled. What a rich imagination.

“What about these things? Are these roots?”

The children burst out laughing. “Of course not. These are his fingers.”

“But his fingers are different from ours. It’s something more like tentacles.”

“How many fingers does he have?”

“Isn’t that obvious? As many as he needs.”

“Did they come up with this story on their own?” inquired Joey from the children’s mother.

“Oh, it’s just a bedtime story that we always tell them. Didn’t your mother tell it to you, constable?”

Strange. “No. I've never heard it before.”

The train whistle blew in the distance. The train was almost here. “Excuse me, children, I am going to need that back. It was nice to meet you, Lilly, and Tony. You be good now. Otherwise, Mom and Dad will come to the constable's office, and I'll need to have a word with you.

“Yes, Mr. Constable,” the children replied in unison.

Joey wiped the octopus-like drawing from the board and wrote again in bold letters, ‘Professor Lincoln.’ He held it up so that the professor would be able to spot him. The train stopped, and passengers started exiting the cars. Long-lost friends hugged, and families embraced. Joey witnessed the reunion of Lilly and Tony with their father. Soon, they were excitedly telling their dad a story while pointing at the constable. Joey laughed. Kids.

“Excuse me, agent. I am Professor Lincoln.”

Joey looked down. A middle-aged woman in a long coat greeted him. She had blue eyes and black hair. Her attire was simple and discreet but tasteful. She held a suitcase in each of her hands.

“Welcome to New Lisbon, Professor. Please, call me Joey. Let me help you with those bags.”

“Thank you, Joey. You can call me Esther.”

*

After Geoffrey returned home from another undercover incursion to the city, he first bathed himself in the lake. There was a certain stench that the slums had. Urchins and thieves could practically smell outsiders. Geoffrey had made sure that his whole ensemble would allow him to fit into the streets, but he now had to go back to what he liked to think as his real self, a wealthy businessman.

In the lake's clear transparent water, Geoffrey enjoyed incomparable tranquility. The most pervasive feeling in his heart was that he wasn’t alone. As he relaxed in the lake, he took big gulps of the lake's water to quench his thirst. As he did, flashes of certain images came to his mind. Scenes from recent recurring dreams. They should have been scary or disturbing, given that they were so strange and alien, but Geoffrey felt no fear or repulsion, only nostalgia.

After Geoffrey had returned to the parlor, shaved, and put on a fresh set of clothes, he found his secretary busily navigating her chaotic organization system.

"Debbie, when's my next appointment?"

"At 11:00, sir. Shirley from the Bank is coming to see you."

He held his silver pocket watch in his hand. Holding it soothed him. He checked the time. He still had thirty minutes until his next appointment. He supposed he could relax a bit and paint.

"Ha. Wonderful. That gives me plenty of time. I'll be in the office."

Geoffrey went into his office. Today was a cloudy day, which gave the lake a grayish look. Through the other window, he could see the vacuuming parlor. They were working on a batch of balatees.

First, Geoffrey went to the little mini-bar he kept in his office. He grabbed a bottle of apple cider and opened it. Then, he took a flask he'd filled with lake water earlier and poured its contents into the bottle. He poured himself a cup and tasted the fruity drink.

Geoffrey searched the drawers of his desk and grabbed the brushes. He mixed the paint to get the right color and turned toward the painting, like a swordsman about to meet his opponent. He'd been under so much stress lately that he needed these rare moments of solace and relaxation.

Facing a white canvas, he decided to try to paint Ambyssus's eye again. The hardest thing about painting was imprinting an emotion in something static. And this was a challenging emotion he was trying to convey. The one eye should capture Ambyssus’ intellect and guile while showing his respect for the game's rules. It should capture its majesty and obliviousness.

As Geoffrey painted the eye that looked beyond the depths and surfaces of the lake and onto the rest of the world, a small part of his mind wondered why he had become so obsessed with this image. He had always taken enough pleasure in reproducing the work of others. Why had he so fervently begun trying to paint his work all of a sudden? And where had he dredged up this image? Why did he see this image in his mind’s eye every night when he slept or every day when he drank water from the lake? When had he even started to only drink water from the lake or bathe in it? Where had he heard of Ambyssus before? When had he become such a creative painter and underhanded businessman? Even as parts of his mind tried to weave the thoughts together and build up panic from the strangeness of it all, a soothing mental song from the lake’s depths unfastened his concerns and tied them into bolder grander plans.

After a few minutes, Geoffrey paused, admiring his work in the painting. The eye now conveyed outrage at even being considered scary and violent. This was a harmless creature, the eye said, one that lived for business and profit, not for bloodshed and barbarity. See me as the ocean, the eye said, for like me, it is big and deep beyond your imagination, yet you fear it not. It’s there to be surfed, harnessed and traversed. So am I, said Ambyssus’ eye. The painting showed the eye focused on the outside world while ignoring the herds of dugongs and manatees that graced the upper lighter corners of the painting, for it didn’t care. It didn’t mind the company if it was poorer than him.

Someone knocked on the door.

“Mr. Geoffrey, Shirley from the bank is here to see you.” Joey checked his treasured watch, a beloved gift from his mentor. It was 11 o'clock already? He completely lost track of time whenever he painted.

“Please let her in,” said Geoffrey as he carefully put down his brushes and clumsily took off the apron he had put on before he started to paint. He had arrived at a meeting with paint smudges on his clothes more than once.

Shirley walked herself in. She was wearing a smart business suit and held a briefcase. She was in her thirties. She wore her brown hair in a ponytail and had intelligent eyes and a professional smile.

“Shirley, come on in. Come on in.”

“Jeff,” greeted Shirley. From the tone of her voice, Jeff could tell that she was not happy with his letter. "Well, Jeff, let me tell you that I was skeptical that you could pay off your debt so quickly. I have to say that my manager at the bank was very happy with us." Looking around at the office, her eyes were drawn to the painting Geoffrey had been working on. She forced herself to look away. "What I won't be able to explain to my manager," she continued, "is that you want to make an even crazier investment right after you've just finished paying off your ludicrous debt."

"Now, now,” reassured Jeffrey, "you know I'm good for my word. I've just proved that to you. If anything, our last business exchange helped me build rapport with your bank management. Let me tell you, I can guarantee that I'll be able to pay this loan off in about a month. As you know, I've been taking payments in animals, and you can take all that as collateral.” Geoffrey stood up and calmly headed toward the window facing the lake. His herdsmen were bringing in some of the manatees given to him as payment for using his vacuuming parlor. Geoffrey stretched out his hand toward the event unfolding before them. “As you can see, I'm not going out of business anytime soon.”

Shirley stared at Geoffrey.

"You look different, Jeff."

"What do you mean?"

"You've always been a good business person. You've always had a good eye for business, but you have this voraciousness now. Hunger for more."

Geoffrey reached out for the drink's cabinet and poured out a glass of apple cider in a cup.

"Here, Shirley. Please have some."

"Thank you. She drank the cup and stood dazed for a few moments. After losing an invisible battle, she finally yielded.

"I'll see what I can do, Geoffrey. I'll get back to you as soon as possible. I need to bring this up to management. This is no small amount you're borrowing from us.”

"Of course, of course. Perfectly understandable. Yes. I know that it sounds scary. But don't forget that I've just finished paying a loan that you thought was impossibly risky in less than a week. Please believe me on this. I'm going to make your bank even richer. I'm willing to pay back with interest, as I mentioned. Discuss the rate. Try to negotiate it down as much as possible but get me that loan. I need it."

"Very well, Geoffrey. I will see what I can do."

"That's all I ask, Shirley. As always, it's been a pleasure." Shirley stood up, turned around, and left. Seeing that Shirley left, Debbie knocked at the door. “Sir, two merchants that have bought oil from the estate came here to meet you.”

Slightly annoyed by the mention of the next guests, Geoffrey's answer was curt and dry. “Alright. Please let them in. I'll give them a tour of the facilities.” The pirate lord had come through and had secured sales channels by which he could get rid of all the oil he had hoarded and that the market thirstily craved. He wouldn’t ruin the game, though. It all had to be within the boundaries of the law.

Unfortunately, for things to be legal, it was necessary to disclose the identity of the oil's seller. In case of an inspection of the cargo, the appropriate paperwork was essential. Geoffrey didn’t mind it except for the fact that all merchants somehow thought they could have access to an unlimited supply of oil by getting in his good graces. That was not the case.

But Geoffrey would need these connections later on, and he would have never been able to get in touch with some of these people if it weren’t for the pirate lord’s schemes. Tiresome and draining as it was, he put on a professional smile and went to greet his guests so that he could give them a tour of the estate.

*

“Are you sure you don’t need more rest, Professor? It was a long way from the capital.”

“It’s fine, Joey. I took the night train precisely so I could arrive and start working immediately.”

The remark caused a little twinge of envy in Joey. He always had a tough time sleeping on the train. He had brought the professor to her accommodations in the Aurum Hotel, but she had insisted on leaving the bags at the reception, not even bothering to check-in. She wanted to get started as soon as possible.

“As I told you earlier, professor, the Commissioner has assigned me to provide you with as much assistance as you need during your investigation.”

“I appreciate that, constable.”

“So, where would you like to go first?”

“I would like to go straight to the lake, if possible.”

She didn’t waste any time.

“Of course, right this way. We can take one of the precinct’s locomotives. If I recall correctly, Dr. Link's boat should return in a few days, but they're already ready to receive you at the camp they've set up near the shores of the lake."

"If it's OK with you, I would like to take a look on my own before I meet the local scientists."

"Very well," Joey considered pensively. Was the gap between the Science Academy and the rest of the scientific community so large, that the professor didn't even want to hear what her colleagues had to say?

Anyway, his assignment was not to judge but to treat the professor like a queen, using the commissioner's words. If the professor wanted to check things independently, they could go just walk the lake shores. Thoughts of Geoffrey came to him. Maybe he should take the professor to visit his estate. After all, it was close to the city, and he could take the locomotive there. Besides, he had felt something strange the last time they met. Bringing an emissary from the Science Academy to make his old friend sweat might be a good idea. He just had to make sure he didn't tell his wife about it.

"How about this? I have a friend who owns a ranch. Would you like to go there instead?"

"That sounds perfect."

As Esther entered the cab, Joey checked the boiler and refilled it with sirenia. Joey appreciated how well-situated the hotel was. It was near a crossroad where three different lines intersected, allowing quick access to almost anywhere in the city. Joey climbed up into the green and brown locomotive and started it. The constable picked the purple flag and waved it while leaving the yard. They started heading toward the lake.

As the journey began, Joey observed the professor. She had a rucksack from which she took several newspapers. Looking at one of them, he saw the logo of the Aurum Hotel in the corner. She had asked for these at the hotel reception. Smart. A good way of getting a feel for the city's situation in the fastest way possible. Hotels usually kept copies of the most important newspapers for guests.

She went through each of them. He noticed how they went back a week. The incident happened five days ago. Right now, she was going through the newspaper from yesterday. The front page read “Barrel of Sirenian Oil at Record High Prices.” The constable angrily sighed.

Despite the Mayor’s constant reassurances that a deal had been made and that there would be no cuts in the supply of oil, he couldn't stop the buyers from rushing to the market and panic purchasing the barrels of oil stored. The mayor had been forced to limit the number of barrels that could be purchased daily, and the prices had soared even higher. Yesterday one lot of 50 barrels had been sold at a record price of 300 dollars apiece.

As the professor read and Joey was lost in his thoughts, the journey progressed swiftly. They were soon outside the city and heading toward Geoffrey’s estate. It would still take them one more hour before they would get there. Professor Lincoln put down the papers and signaled she was ready to speak.

“So… any theories?”

“Theories will come later, and so will questions. You are a competent detective and a brilliant investigator; otherwise, you wouldn’t be assigned to accompany me. I feel, however, that right now, a fresh pair of eyes and an unbiased opinion is the greatest contribution I can provide. Let’s go to the lake and check on the situation, and then we can exchange impressions. Deal?”

Joey nodded. A few moments later, he heard a train whistle.

Ch. 7 - The Loophole

INDEX

Ch. 9 - The Painting

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