December 23, 9:40 am (LA time)
Ema Skye hated planes. She hated the rush to get to the airport, the push of humanity and the cramped-like-sardines seats hurtling hundreds of miles above the Earth with a habit of shaking violently at a moment’s notice.
But most of all, she hated the prices on in-flight bars. Skyway robbery, she’d griped as she slammed her money on the counter. ‘That’s just our business model’ the poor air hostess with the bizarre tiered ponytail had begrudgingly said.
She still paid for it, making her the clown of capitalism in today’s little midair pantomime. Not one to waste an expensive drink of dubious quality, it was halfway done by the time she’d re-entered the passenger section.
When she finally returned to her seat from getting her drink, she found Prosecutor Blackquill and Detective ‘Halblicht’ talking– but the conversation immediately dried up when Blackquill turned to greet her.
“Whistle sufficiently wetted, Investigator?”
“Not on your life,” she drawled, before glancing between them. “Glad to see you two haven’t given me a locked cabin mystery while I was gone….the bar’s overpriced.”
She tipped her drink back.
“No mystery there,” Simon drawled. “I believe I told you I owed you a briefing– would you like that now?”
Halblicht meanwhile was stroking his chin absently. “A locked room mystery on an airplane… that would be a pickle..”
“Don’t worry Halblicht. The Goddess of Justice already saddled Chief Prosecutor Edgeworth with that one. I don’t think she’s fond of too many repeats. Makes her seem unoriginal.” She snickered as she dropped into her seat.
“Hold on, hold on!” Simon shooed her with both hands as she sat down. “I didn’t tell you to sit down! Athena– Gumshoe– trade seats with us for the moment!”
“Funny you think I’d take orders from anyone, Simon.” Ema snorted as she stayed sitting for a second– just to make a point, before she stood with a wave of her free hand.
Athena sat bolt upright, blinking in surprise from where she’d half fallen asleep with the same travel catalog Robert had been looking through on her face. “Wha..?? OKAY!”
Simon gave Athena a thin smile, as he shuffled out of his seat, and pushed her gently toward where he had been sitting.
“Entertain our new friend the detective for a few minutes while I bring Investigator Skye up to speed, would you?”
Halbricht smiled awkwardly. “No need to play musical chairs on my account.”
“Mind your own business, Half Wit,” Simon snapped.
Athena bit her lip, before she snapped a goofy salute Simon’s way.
“You got it, Simon…” she glanced at Robert with a smile that Ema thought may have been a bit too friendly given the circumstances she’d already started deducing together. “I don’t mind at all!”
Ema supposed it was better than the alternative, she thought as she inched out of the yawning Gumshoe’s way and towards the now vacant seats.
Once Gumshoe and Athena were out of the way, Simon settled down in one of the vacated seats and made himself comfortable, gesturing for Ema to do the same.
“Thank you for indulging me, Investigator.”
Ema settled in and raised her glass.
“Sure, I may be a pain in the ass about orders, but I like you. Besides, I’m curious how close I’ve gotten to the root of this little mystery.”
Simon leaned on his hand and tapped his temple. “Well then, investigator, why don’t you sum up your perception of the facts for me.”
“Detective Halblict is obviously ‘’’Bobby Fulbright’’’, it’s unmistakable. He doesn’t even look that different…he hardly acts different, either. And the name’s the most obvious pun I’ve ever heard in my life.”
She looked down into the lingering amber liquid of her dreadfully shallow pour of whiskey. It was mingling with too much melting ice, despite her asking the stewardess to please restrain herself.
“And we all know who Bobby Fulbright really was. I saw the live trial. I saw his face rip to pieces and saw that bullet tear through the air. Which means he survived, but he isn’t locked away for life in a dark pit, which makes me think that someone with a stake in the investigation offered him a little deal. He’s more useful out here than in there, after all.”
She tipped her drink back, and continued thoughtfully. “my money’s on Edgeworth. Pretty sure he’d done the same thing before, too. If you want my evidence, look at this little trip of his. He’s the one behind it, he’s the one organizing this little venture, meaning he’s the one who’s given the ok to haul an international assassin around in a funny, if handsome, new coat.”
Simon was quiet for a moment, and rubbed his jaw, nodding.
“My my, investigator, you really are sharp as a tack. There’s hardly even anything left for me to tell you.”
“There’s a reason they call me a prodigy.” Nobody did, but if she told enough people that they did, word would get around. She tipped her drink back. “It’s all just basic deduction and recognition skills, anyway.”
Simon’s sardonic smile pulled at the edge of his mouth with what might have been annoyance.
“Yes. He hasn’t done much to change his appearance. Or his name. It’s.. irritating. Obviously we know he could have done a much better job disguising himself.”
“Given everything we were told at least. Kinda weird he’s clung so hard to this.”
She glanced across the aisle. “Maybe it’s the lack of prep time. Maybe he needs a few weeks to get in character and he just went with the old one outta convenience. He’s an expert espionage agent, sure, but maybe his work ethic’s shit.”
“I don’t know.” Simon’s lips pursed. “I was interrogating him just now about his made up ‘Halblicht’ persona, and I’ll admit, even as someone familiar with him and familiar with psychology it was difficult to tell what was made up on the spot, prepared, reused, or ugh– honest.”
Ema rubbed her chin.
“…now ain’t that interesting.” she murmured, before she finished her drink. “Maybe he just really likes the role of the happy go lucky idiot cop? I mean, admittedly, it’s a good one. I only narrowly passed it up for the chance to be a ‘grumpy, snarling pain in the ass’ instead.”
Simon glanced across the aisle to where Athena and Bobby were talking.
“I’ve been told he doesn’t ‘like’ anything,” he murmured.
“…I dunno if that’s true.” Ema shrugged her shoulders. “I mean, maybe, but if that’s the case the guy’s got a miserable life ahead of him. This miserable thing we call life’s a little better when you got things to look forward to, or something you enjoy.”
She chuckled “like how I ‘like’ my whiskey after work, and I ‘tolerate’ Klavier when I’m not thinking about pushing him in a wood chipper for being a glimmerous fop.”
“Obviously,” Simon drawled with some amusement, though he didn’t take his eyes off of the detective across the way. “But that’s for human beings like you or I. You said you saw the trial– do you think he’s human? The way we are? Do you think he was hiding emotions, or if he truly has none the way we think of them?”
It was funny, Simon talking about hiding emotions. He was good at it himself– but Ema was a very observant woman. She’d worked with “Fulbright” in the department, and she’d seen him and Simon together over the last year.
“Uh huh.” Ema leaned her head against the seat with a sudden wish they still allowed smoking mid-flight.
“I’ll be real with you, Blackquill. I’m not a psychologist like Athena. I dunno if he’s ‘hiding emotions’ or if he’s got any that’re real the way we understand them. Sometimes I wonder if anyone experiences the tricky bastards the same way at all.” She closed her eyes. “But I know what you’re hoping I’ll say.”
Now he turned to look at her, and there was a dark, almost hostile look in his eyes, like when he was grilling someone in court.
“I beg your pardon?”
Ema cleared her throat and began to speak, gesturing vaguely with her hand as the words tumbled from her mouth, not caring about the danger of his dagger stare.
“I think he’s as human as any of us, Simon Blackquill. Having seen the man in action, I’m certain at least some of his feelings had some kinda shred of genuine feeling to them.” She looked sidelong at him. “You two were close. It’s only natural to hope that there was something genuine there.”
Simon’s gaze was withering, and he had gone even paler than usual.
“The man was my jailer,” he hissed quietly. “And he was an idiot– or more realistically, he was playing the fool. And he played me for the fool. If I have any reason to desire for him to have any emotion at all, it’s so that perhaps in the depth of the night he can feel some guilt for what he’s done. The lives he’s taken, and the people he’s hurt.”
If that was all it was, then Simon Blackquill probably wouldn’t look so ashamed of himself. But maybe that wasn’t polite to say to his face.
Ema Skye held her hands up.
“Don’t shoot the messenger,” she gave him a wan smile. “…look. I hope so too. He hurt some people I’m pretty fond of, yeah? I just hope that it wasn’t all fake. ‘Bobby’ and I were pretty good friends back at the office. And he was your parole officer for a whole year.”
She shrugged her shoulders.
Parole officer. And more. She could tell that much. But then again, she knew how complicated feelings could be in their lines of work…messy and convoluted and full of as much animosity and struggle as there was love and intimacy.
Simon rubbed his jaw and some of the color returned to his face. “Yes, of course. I tend to forget… you and Gumshoe were his friends that whole year, too, I imagine. If nothing more than as co-workers… It’s difficult to think about for you? That it was all a lie?”
“We got drinks together,” Ema grumbled. “Laughed. Joked around. He gave me fucking relationship advice. Hah. yeah,I’d call him a friend, I guess.”
She crushed the plastic cup in her fist after downing the watered down dregs of her whiskey now that the ice had melted. “It pisses me off…it hurts. I thought I was done with people I thought gave a shit lying to my face.”
Back when Lana had been locked away and she took steps to put up enough walls around her to keep it from ever being an issue again.
“I see,” Simon murmured. He looked rather downcast. “I’m sorry if what I said about my hopes for his emotions hurt you, then. I was thinking only of myself.”
Ema couldn’t blame him for being bitter. And she couldn’t exactly blame him for being cagey about the source of his bitterness, either. Society wasn’t exactly smiling brightly on relationships like the one she guessed they might have had even when they weren’t between inmates and jailers who were actually spies.
She bumped his shoulder with hers.
“Don’t worry about it, Simon.The whole situation sucks.”She ran her hand through her hair with a low hiss of breath. “it sucks, and it’s frustrating and it drives me to fucking drink. And Blackquill, I imagine it drives you to worse than just that.”
“You aren’t wrong,” he murmured. “Everyone should be very glad of my marvelous self control or else we’d have the world’s most obvious locked room mystery– as you supposed.”
“I think you’d destroy Athena if we had to throw you back in the slammer, Simon.” Ema prodded him with her finger. “So keep that self control going. Just wish it wasn’t such an awkward nightmare, at least.”
Simon looked over at the ‘detective’ again. “Unfortunately for all of us, Investigator. I think the awkward nightmare is just beginning.”
December 23, 9:45 am (LA time)
“Entertain our new friend the detective for a few minutes while I bring Investigator Skye up to speed, would you?”
Halbricht smiled awkwardly. “No need to play musical chairs on my account.”
“Mind your own business, Half Wit,” Simon snapped.
Athena bit her lip, before she snapped a goofy salute Simon’s way. “You got it, Simon…”
“Nice salute, Ms. Cykes,” Halblicht offered.
Athena flushed pink, dropping into the chair with a cheerful smile and a shrug of her shoulders.
“I picked it up somewhere, Detective. From an old friend.” Her smile twitched a little as she said it, but she forced it down and settled into her chair. “Hope you don’t mind the company. Simon seems to want to talk to Detective Skye alone for a bit…so you’re gonna be stuck with me!”
“Who would turn down such charming company on such a long flight?” he asked with a smile. It wasn’t exactly a ‘Bobby Fulbright’ smile, pleasant as it might have been. It was a little more restrained, and gracious, and Athena didn’t feel any particular emotion from it.
Widget flickered a little nervously on her chest, and she quickly raised her hand to shut it off with a cheerful smile.
It was interesting…if complicated and heart-rending…to suss out ‘Robert’ and his emotions. To get used to these new expressions on a face she’d seen fall apart on the witness stand. Somewhere in the depths of her mind, she remembered the noh mask gleaming in the moonlight.
“Well, well…aren’t you a charmer.” she brushed her fingers through her ponytail. “Flattery’ll get you everywhere, Mr. Halblict! Especially into a little extra therapy…if you’d like it?”
“I don’t especially think I’m in a position to turn it down,” he bantered blithely. “Besides, I’ve heard you’re an expert. Should be an interesting way to pass the time.”
“Exactly what I was thinking!” She swiped her fingers, and brought up her AR display. “I’m court-approved…and known for making breakthroughs you wouldn’t believe.” She looked at him over the fluttering blue of her screen.
The chart was, at the moment, completely dead. Nothing registering on the mood matrix.
“I saw some of your technique on tv the other night,” he said with that gracious smile. “Exciting stuff.”
“Yes…” her voice trailed off. “That was an exciting trial, wasn’t it? Probably my hardest yet…from the emotional interference, nearly being convicted, all the way to my patient.”
Her fingers traced the display thoughtfully. “…What did you think of ‘the Phantom’ when you watched it, Mr. Halblict?”
“Interesting question, Ms. Cykes.” There was a subtle blip on the matrix– so fast and light that she barely caught it. Sadness. And anger. “For a supposed international super spy, he seemed a bit pathetic at the end.”
“We all do when we’re backed into a corner. Even the sturdiest wall can show cracks when pressured.” Athena said slowly, making sure Widget was recording. “And he was a man who’s entire life had been training him to lose all emotion. ‘Discarding emotions’ means having no dams in place to deal with them when they leak through the cracks. No way to mitigate or handle them.”
“Is that so? I got the impression he was probably just some hired thug. You know– Like James Bond. Did I miss part of the trial?” Halblicht’s face was impassively curious, but the mood matrix registered a brief flicker of confusion– and happiness.
“Maybe…” she registered and logged them with a sheepish smile. “It was a really long one…it seemed like it’d never end. I worried that, too, at the time, but I think there’s far more to it than that. Don’t tell anyone I said that, yeah? It’s hush hush.” she said with mock conspiracy.
“Hush hush,” he repeated– and suddenly there was Bobby Fulbright’s grin, and ‘happiness’ pinging full blast on the mood matrix, while frustration sat at an almost imperceptible low ebb. He snapped a little salute. “I can keep a secret or two!”
“I know you can, Bobby.” Athena felt tears stinging the edges of her eyes, as she flashed a bright smile of her own, saluting him back. “I can sense it about you. Which is why I’m comfortable trying to share some of my thoughts on it with you, you know?”
It was strange…talking in circles around the truth. Plausible deniability on conversation, speaking to him as if he didn’t know–cheerful smiles masking the undercurrent of frustration and fear.
“I appreciate it a lot, Ms. Cykes,” he said, smiling that silly, bashful smile smile of his, and weaving his fingers nervously together. “I know I can be a little bit difficult to talk to. Prosecutor Blackquill seems very uh…. annoyed about it. Haha!”
The mood matrix pinged a wild series of emotions– another almost incomprehensible surge of large jolts and tiny ripples.
Athena’s heart skipped briefly, and she closed her eyes for a moment , before she paid extra attention to them.
“And how’s that make you feel, Robert?”
“How’s what make me feel, Ms. Cykes?” His smile grew stiffer, and the mood matrix stopped registering again.
“How’s that make you feel?” she said again, quietly. She looked up at him with her brow knitted and her smile tight. “Feeling difficult to talk to…having Prosecutor Blackquill annoyed at you…having to deal with my questions? How’s it feel.”
“Well,” he said slowly, and rather thoughtfully. “I don’t think that anyone enjoys feeling like they’re annoying someone they’re talking to–”
Before Athena could answer, he spoke again, almost like he was interrupting himself. The mood matrix pinged happiness, and once again, a low frustration.
“–no that’s not true,” he chuckled. “Prosecutor Blackquill absolutely likes annoying people he’s talking to. Uh… I get that sense anyway! Haha!”
This time, Athena could actually feel the wave of at least seemingly genuine amusement.
She laughed pleasantly along with him.
“You’re not wrong about that! …I mean, I know he likes annoying me, too. It’s how you know he likes you.” She tapped on the mood matrix, trying to calm the tremble in her hands. “You seem of two minds about it, though.”
He rubbed the back of his neck, still grinning bashfully. “I suppose you could say that’s true. Uh, metaphorically.”
The mood matrix shifted again, a note of worry coming in strongly.
“Metaphorically.” She said slowly, taking note of the worry.“Tell me about that?”
Robert adjusted his glasses, and the emotions on the mood matrix all dropped down to almost nothing again, a bare glimmer of worry still shimmering.
“Well, I’ve only just met Prosecutor Blackquill. I suppose I don’t yet know how I feel about his personality.”
Athena looked down at the matrix instead of at his face.
“You’ll get used to it, I think. He’s a good man, who’s been hurt a lot. He can be sharp…sardonic, fond of his own jokes, but it’s just his way of guarding himself. He’s a modern samurai, after all.” She tilted her head. “…I notice your emotions tend to fluctuate wildly.”
“Is that… particularly unusual?” he asked, pushing up his glasses.
“Somewhat,” she laughed into her hand “…though I guess I can’t throw stones.”
He chuckled, a light, rough chuckle, very unlike Bobby Fulbright.
“I guess we have something in common then, Ms. Cykes.”
She gave him a smile. it wasn’t a happy one, and its sympathy was tinged with the heavy memories of 7 years of pain and doubt–.and hard work. Hard work to study psychology and law to save Simon– hard work to learn to understand how she felt and how to project those feelings in ways others could understand…and hard work to try to survive the memories of that night.
“More than you know, Mr. Halblict. I…I expect more than you know.”
Suddenly, both of them noticed that Simon had come to loom over the seat at the end where Gumshoe was snoring.
“I hope I’m not interrupting,” the prosecutor drawled.
Athena had just enough presence of mind to notice the flutter of emotions– fear, and joy– on Halblicht’s chart.
Athena logged them, and dismissed the screen with a bow of her head. “Sorry Simon. We were just talking about analytical psychology.”
“Ah, a heady topic.” Simon smiled and it was almost a sneer. “I’m not sure Halblicht is up to it– I hope you weren’t bored.”
Halblicht grinned again, and laughed. “You’ve sure got my number already, Prosector.”
“I was entertaining myself. He’s pretty fun to bounce off of….interesting guy, you know?” She rubbed her neck “…you want me to move?”
Simon leaned heavily on Gumshoe’s chair, and shrugged. He pushed his fingers through his hair. “If you’re comfortable, I’ll slink off somewhere. But it’s a long flight– but if you’re having fun…”
Athena felt a curious mix of emotions from Simon, even without the mood matrix’s help.
She looked up at him with a smile, fidgeting with the ends of her hair. She still had her ears, after all…and she could hear the outpouring of mingled emotions in his tone.
“You don’t need to slink, Simon, geeze. What are you? Myriam?”
“Hah! Not quite,” Simon huffed, his smirk pulling across his face.
“Although, if you get back in your seat, prosecutor Blackquill, you will be boxed in, eh?” Bobby– Halblicht grinned.
Simon made a disgusted noise. He grabbed the lapel of the sleeping Gumshoe’s coat.
“Detective,” he huffed, shaking him. “Go keep Ms. Skye company and make sure she doesn’t spend her whole paycheck on overpriced cocktails.”
“GAHGAHGAHHHHH PAL!!” Gumshoe shouted as he was yanked directly out of the depths of sweet dreams. “MAGGIE COMM–oh, Prosecutor Blackquill, sir!!” he snapped a salute…and the edge of his hand whacked Simon’s cheek. Simon was caught off guard by the sudden move, and reeled.
“Glkk!!”
Athena felt her chair move as Halblicht suddenly surged forward– and then froze, as if he’d stopped himself mid-motion.
Gumshoe jolted back, his hand lowered sharply.
“s…shit. Sorry sir. My bad. You can dock my pay, sir, I’ll tell Mister Edgeworth.” He glanced at Halblicht with a grimace before he slunk back “just an accident, pal. Sorry.”
Athena’s heart raced in her chest, her fingers tightening around Widget for a moment as the movement rocked her chair…she didn’t quite settle when it stopped.
Simon rubbed his cheek, and shook his head. His other hand had gone to the area of his belt where his sword would have been, and remained there.
The whole scene had the air of a strange kind of standoff. Tension lingered thick enough for Athena to feel it.
“My fault for waking you, Detective,” Simon grumbled. “You can apologize by giving me your seat.”
All that from a little accidental knick with the edge of a man’s hand from a startled wake up…the tension overwhelmed her own emotions, leaving her wide eyed and silent as her breath took on a quiet shudder.
Gumshoe bowed his head in repeated apologies, before he hefted himself up and away. She could hear the tension…and the embarrassment and frustration…in his tone as he slipped to the other aisle.
Simon slipped into the vacated seat and the cloud of tension finally seemed to dissipate.
“Well. That was stupid,” Simon drawled. “I should have expected it.”
Athena watched Halblicht shifting back into a more comfortable position in his seat, and adjusting his tie– she noticed him and Simon watching each other, and they both looked away.
“Ah…” Athena managed a vocalization, wincing briefly at how loud it sounded, before she laughed nervously. “….it’s Detective Gumshoe….gotta e-expect foibles along the way, right?”
She sagged in her seat, feeling all the more awkward by the second.
So much for Simon– now Athena was the one boxed in. Prosecutor Blackquill on one side, and the strange “Detective Halblicht” on the other.
She took a deep breath, powering Widget down entirely with a flick of the switch as she managed her biggest smile.
“But hey…you know, we’ve got a while to go yeah? Who’s up for a travel game!”