The Prince & The Popstar

Move Along

"Such a heart that will lead you to deceiving
All the pain held in your
Hands are shaking cold"
— The All-American Rejects

     Meanwhile, back in Verastoria, The Prince tried to escape his swirling, overpowering thoughts concerning his father by diving into R.F. Kuang's satirical novel, Yellowface. However, as he read, King Alexander's voice thundered in his head:
     "I know exactly where you've been these last months. You decided to chase a worthless dream and ignore your responsibilities here in the kingdom. You chose to be a dancing monkey, a cheap facsimile of someone who actually has talent. You opted to forgo practicality and instead became nothing more than a disappointment."
     Vincent did his best to shake it off and continue forward, but he simply couldn't focus. That's when he heard a hasty knock on his quarter's doorframe.
     "Who is it?" The Prince asked, setting his book on an upside-down milk crate.
     "It's Samuel. I have an update for you; we have some significant findings for you to look over. Do you have a moment?"
     Vincent walked over to the entryway and slid the curtain covering to the side. "I don't just have a moment. For you, I have several. Show me what you've found."
     On the second level of the main treehouse, Henry was surrounded by stacks and stacks of loose-leaf notebook paper with scrawled, illegible notes, several tablets running a number of data-mining programs, and pictures cut out from back issues of The VLG. His large hands typed feverishly on his HP laptop, which was set up with a number of external hard drives and extended display monitors, taking up most of the space on their game table.
     "We have a solid lead," Henry said with his distinct, blank expression. "Salchester may be elusive, but no one in this day and age can truly disappear. Everyone leaves a trail; You just have to find the right stone to turn over."
     "And I'm guessing you've found the stone," Vincent inferred.
     "That we did, Your Highness," Henry replied. "That we did."
     Henry turned his laptop around so Vincent could see exactly what had been unearthed—a bevy of project files from several restricted projects that traced back to one name: Salchester. Vincent pressed his index finger on the touchpad and began scrolling through the seemingly unending information that these files held. One thing was obvious: Salchester was a futurist who leaned into advanced, bleeding edge science. It took The Prince 20 minutes to absorb everything, which was impressive, but not at all surprising. The crucial details were imprinted on his mind, ready for recall at a second's notice.
     One project stood out from the rest. It was an experiment which utilized advanced biotech engineering, an experiment called "Aurora". According to the data file, it began in 2005 and it focused on an idea presented in a doctoral dissertation which elaborated on the concept of cryonics. In layman's terms, it's the practice of preserving humans at cryogenic temperatures.
     The last document Vincent went over was a shipping manifest that originated from The Houston Ship Channel. It cited the date—February 21, 2020—and, according to the document, it had an approximate weight of 5,130 lbs. All of the other details were either locked or redacted.
     "February 2020," Vincent thought out loud. "That's right around the time when COVID broke out in The States. It would have been so easy to slip between the cracks and anonymously pass through security checkpoints. I remember reading an article online about how the shipping industry was pure chaos during that time. So many things were overlooked."
     "We most certainly need to find exactly what was overlooked," Samuel stated, seated at the game table with his hands folded in his lap.
     "You don't think it's some kind of weapon?" Henry asked the puzzled prince.
     "No, I think it's more like equipment necessary for their Aurora Experiment," Vincent replied. "But, I mean, the shipment's only a little over 5,000 lbs. I would think that whatever they needed would be considerably heavier."
     "Perhaps you're both wrong," a sweet, melodic voice spoke out.
     "Ava," The Prince said, looking over at her, standing at the top of the stairs. "Please, come over and tell us your thoughts on the matter."
     "Well, there are several things that it could be—maybe a unique, rare element of some type which powers the experiment or even light-weight materials needed for a confinement box, in order to protect the ones driving the experiment. And you also need to take something into account."
     "Which is?" Henry asked.
     "What if Salchester meant for you to find this information?" Ava asked. "What if this is some elaborate ruse to distract you from what's really happening? This man is immeasurably intelligent and he's probably a multi-step thinker. Don't you think he would make sure that the cards he held were shielded from prying eyes?"
     "Fair point," Vincent said. "But, that doesn't take away from the fact that we need to locate Salchester. If we're not careful, he just might slip through our fingers again. That just cannot happen. That would be completely unacceptable. He needs to be stopped."
     "But, Vinny," Henry said. "We don't have enough information to triangulate his position. All of these files, every single one of them—they don't contain an origin point."
     "Aye, but the shipping manifest has an identification number. If we can gain access to The Houston Ship Channel's mainframe, we just might be able to see where it came from and where it's going."
     "Okay, but how do you plan on getting that kind of access?" Ava wondered.
     "I suppose we'll have to track down someone high up on the totem pole," Vincent replied.
     "Eugene Tyson Joules, The Fourth," Samuel stated.
     "What?" Ava asked, unsure if she heard him right.
     "Tyson Joules' family owns one of the oldest shipping companies in all of America," Samuel explained. "He would be able to provide us with the necessary access to the mainframe."
     Vincent furrowed his brow. "No, no. I'm not getting into bed with Tyson Joules. That would be absurd."
     "Ask yourself," Samuel replied. "Is there really any other choice?"
     "Samuel has a point," Henry said flatly. "Who else would be able to get what we need?"
     Vincent pursed his lips. "You know who will be thrown by our actions, don't you?"
     "Of course," Henry retorted. "But, even he would admit that there's really not another way. This is the course of action we must take—pride be damned."
     "He's not going to like this one bit," Ava said as she tapped her fingers on the tabletop.
     "He's really not going to like the fact that we need him to get to Tyson," Vincent added. "When did you speak to him last?"
     "Yesterday," Ava responded. "He's been under a lot of stress, trying to move forward with his career. He wants to revisit the theater, so all of his focus is on that."
     "Are you two okay?" Vincent questioned. "I mean, the distance has to be rough."
     "It is," Ava immediately answered. "And the time zones—they make everything feel so impossible. Sometimes, we go for days without talking. I mean, there's text messaging, but even that's difficult. His schedule is remarkably demanding and sometimes, all he has time for is a quick hello and goodbye. It's... it's... taxing."
     "I'm so sorry," Vincent said, placing his hand on Ava's busy fingers, getting them to stop tapping anxiously. "I know this is asking a lot, but do you think you can get him to help? We need him. This is the only option we have."
     "I can try," Ava replied. "I can't say I'll be successful, but yes, I will do whatever I can to persuade him. I know it's incredibly important that we bring Salchester to justice. He's capable of doing so much damage."
     "Exactly," Vincent said. "We need to strike now, while we still can. We can't let him continue with his experiment. I know that nothing good can come from what he's doing. Call it 'instinct'."
     "And that experiment is only one of the many things on his plate," Henry said. "There's no telling what else he has lined up. The repercussions could be devastating."
     "Not only devastating, but possibly catastrophic," Samuel mentioned.
     "Well, we know that whatever he's doing, he's been doing it for a while, flying below radar," Vincent explained. "The fact that he's been able to circumvent the system is, quite frankly, impressive. Everything he does is deliberate; it's not a matter of luck or chance. He's far too smart to gamble. When he does something, he wants to have the comfort of certainty."
     "Here's our chance to throw a wrench in his plans," Henry said, holding out his cell phone for Ava to take. "I sure hope that Rufus feels the same as we do."
     Ava took the phone and entered Rufus' number on the dialpad. "I think you all are overestimating my influence on him."
     "I don't think you realize how much of an influence you actually are," Vincent replied. "You're the only one that will be able to reason with him. This, I'm sure of."
     "Well," Ava said, exhaling. "Here goes nothing."