Sao watched the door close and heard the lock click. Footsteps petered out, the elevator pinged softly in the hall and finally, Delta was gone. Breathing out all the air he had in him, Sao let his shoulders sag. Eager to drop back into his chair he made his way back to the office, and came face to face with Rai's wolfish leer.

“Bell Hospitality Group, huh? Central’s premier ‘celestial peace resort’. Tell me how you got out of that one.” 

Sao held his palms up in surrender and, remembering policy, Rai backstepped quickly.

“I was never a resident, Rai. I was invited to dinner at the place, a one-off occasion. It was a goodbye gathering for Delta, the night he left the Central Police Record staff.”

“And Mr. Delta left Central Police to become Bell’s full-time managing partner, coincidentally taking a bunch of the young archivist crew along with him. I did hear about a little cult recruitment incident in the records department years back, I didn’t realize you were one of the targets. Four of the five wound up quitting the force to join the so-called ‘Group’. And this Delta guy, you seem close. Exceptionally close.”

His tone had devolved to schoolyard heckling. Sao smiled politely. “You sound like you saw something scandalous today.”

“He got a handshake.”

The penny dropped. It felt more like a boulder. Sao opened his mouth, closed it, and opened it again somewhat gingerly. “You're right. I didn't even think - the reason, though, is I’ve known him a long time - since my first day of training the Records department. I used to keep my mouth shut for trust exercises, handshakes and the like. Those occasions resulted in a lot of dashing to and from the bathroom. This continued until the chief reformatted disclosure and harassment policies. But by then I’d overcome my fear of... some of them. Delta was very apologetic when he got the update, a lot more empathetic than the other managers. So yes, I'm somewhat comfortable with him. The trust exercise worked, a bit, however uncomfortably.”

“Like you underwent some forced exposure therapy.”

“If you want to call it that. To be honest, I think we all know now that unconditional trust shouldn't actually be demanded from a band of office drones.” Sao folded his hands, ashamed for some reason he couldn't quite discern. “Closing that gap just got me roped into a ‘recruitment’ dinner. I really did respect Delta, and despite only knowing him a few months, I was sad to see him go. But I got the feeling Sigma was far more important to him than any of us at HQ. Sigma and Delta are old friends, they grew up in the same neighborhood. Both were orphans... Bell’s reputation aside, it’s seriously impressive that Sigma has built such a fortune from nothing.”

“Did you get to meet Sigma at your little dinner party?”

“Yes. A perfectly charming character. I found him almost more engrossing in person than in any of his film roles. Not that he’s bad from the clips I’ve seen, but… he has a very unique brand of intensity. 'A furious sleepwalk,' some critics call it.” Sao laughed at Rai’s expression, which had several unique qualities of its own. “You mentioned Wings of Steel. I forgot he was in that. I remember him best for that romantic biopic, Best of Love. That's the one got him nominated for an award. He played a lovesick storyteller in one of the bar scenes, a man so heartbroken he could no longer move on his own. His character was based on a real, live performance artist from the 90s.”

Rai took to romantic biopics like a noxious gas, wrinkling his nose. “My grandma - dad’s side of course - was in Wings, so that’s what came to mind first. And you say he’s ‘charming in person’. Did you find him especially, uh, convincing?”

“How so?”

“You know. How did the charismatic Group Founder address his potential acolytes?"

“This may disappoint you - I didn’t get the full pitch. If there was one. The reason for the other four clerks deciding to join as residents is as much a mystery to me as it is to you. I left the dinner early.”

“Aha. So reversed: how did he drive you off? Say something off-color?”

“I’ll be honest, I don’t remember the night all that well. It was two or three years ago - so, before the unlawful raid took place. Let me see... Delta and I, and four of our friends from the third floor of Records, took a taxi from HQ to Bell Lodge after work. The residents - there were just a dozen or so at the time - greeted us at the gates, fitted us with Bell’s special slippers and showed us around. We had drinks in the main courtyard, in front of a large fountain. Then there was a mini-tour of the grounds; we took a look at the main wing of rooms, and Sigma’s management house - a rustic little cottage - and travelled the flower corridor, which was sort of the vein that ran from section to section. As a resort it might sound tropical - water fixtures and colorful flowers, but there was something woodsy about the place. We emerged from the final arm of the corridor to a dining area, a set of camping-style wooden tables. The meal was being prepared by some caterers. We had soup, a savory jelly for the appetizer, then roast pigeon, which I thought was strange but it was very well done-.”

“Okay, was the pigeon what tipped you off?”

The remark would have irked Sao more if he was not already kicking himself internally. His memory was not warming up to the occasion. It was the same irritation he’d felt at the end of that very night. All he was recalling were echoes, just as mocking and unhelpful as they’d been three years ago. If you aren’t even sure what you saw, what do you expect me to do about it?

“The latter half of the night is hazy. I do remember in the end that I phoned a friend and concocted some excuse to leave. This was a little before dessert was served. Sigma and Delta walked me to the gate but we didn’t talk much.” Sao shrugged. “I left in a hurry. The following week, the four colleagues who had also been invited tendered their resignations to police HQ.”

“So the miracle conversion happened after you left.”

“I suppose. The most striking speech I remember was Sigma giving flak to the sci-fi genre. Not long after that, I decided I had to leave.” Sao had no idea why that little aspect out of all the night’s events remained lucid.

“Hm. But you got me with something. Caterers. Residents, leaders, and caterers. For some reason, I hadn’t considered the place having normal staff. Bell’s legally a hospitality company, so they’d need cleaners too.” Rai clawed a hand through his hair. Its greasy sprawl had not been helped by the lingering oil in the air from lunch. “Central HQ - actually, one guy I know at HQ who talked my ear off over it - was always so doomsday about Bell that I was thinking of a ‘people go in and nobody ever comes out’ scenario. Got me all overexcited, but I guess that would never make sense. It’s a resort in the middle of Central. A cult leader and one college buddy can’t run that kind of thing on their own.”

Sao waited for Rai to get up, stride back to his seat. Interrogation over.

“But that doesn't clear everything up. it’s still pretty culty. People devoting their lives to this… celestial thing. Even on behalf of Delta, you haven’t denied it.”

“I’ll admit, it is a little eerie losing four coworkers to the place with little to no explanation. I read up on it myself after they left. Nobody seems to be trapped or threatened to stay. Most of the residents still have jobs, go on holidays, and nobody’s ever found signs of schedule restrictions or prayer requirements. There have been investigations, reporters and tourists who visited Bell with no ill effect. In fact, the ratings are rather good for a boutique operation. They freely interacted with the residents and found them far from mistreated--”

“Except that the working residents are just about entirely devoting their salaries to Bell. Sure, Sigma organizes the big handouts once in a while - maybe they’re hoping it’ll come their way - but have you ever looked at the beliefs they’re touting in the meantime?” Flopping onto his oversized chair and firing up both monitors, Rai pulled up the Bell website. The banner photo of the fountain backed by a trellis of orchids struck Sao with its plainness, its total lack of grandeur. While attractive enough, the photographs didn’t do the place justice. He knew this even with his memories a blur.

Rai navigated from the photos to a long scroll of text.

“‘Bell Hospitality Group Lodge, Resort and Commune Resident Agreements,” Rai read, “Point 13: All contribution goes towards the return of, and universal peace on behalf of, the Bells as administered by the management.’. And Section 4: ‘The Bells are members of a non-earthen race and therefore may not be held responsible for terrestrial use of funds.’ Non-earthen?”

“Aliens. I’ve heard.”

Rai was ready to make him hear it again.

“He has some special kinship with these supposed alien beings from his childhood, they’re the intended ultimate beneficiaries of the funds, and what he named the Group after. When Sigma opened the lodge, he gave a speech in front of the press and got onto this long tangent regarding UFOs. Saw them as a child, one took his old babysitter, and he hopes intergalactic peace may one day help him find out what happened... It got taken for a joke at the time, and it still looks like a poorly-written marketing stunt that he just stuck with. But it’s stayed on the website. He claims to have four ‘Bells’ residing in the grounds.”

“Ah.” Sao picked at his remaining noodles, now lukewarm. “That’s right. I saw them at the dinner.”

“You what?”

“That’s how sci-fi films came into play. When we were being seated, Sigma placed four rocks in a case by the table and he began to talk about how these little creatures, now dormant, had come to him as a child and eventually helped defend him against some rogues from another planet. He lost a friend in the process -”

“Rocks.”

“Maybe they were rusted pieces of metal? The light did bounce off them a bit. As for being Bells, they didn’t seem the right shape, but they did make some sound when he set them down. Not bell sounds, but some rattling.”

“Did he look like he was bullshitting? Was anyone buying it?”

“I don’t--” Sao frowned. “I don’t think he was. But then, Sigma’s an actor. I can’t speak for the others, maybe they saw more. Maybe that’s what convinced them. Perhaps the rocks woke up at the end of the night.”

He’d expected Rai to sneer, even laugh. It all sounded absurd. But in the gap between whirring monitors, he could see Rai grinding his teeth. “No. Remember, Sigma said the Bells have been asleep since he was a kid.”

“Er. Right.”

“Okay, let’s forget the zany marketing for a minute. The way you talked about that recruitment dinner, made me think of the raid. A year after you dodged recruitment. Cops took down the gates looking for that Indigo woman.” Click, click. “And the reports - no offense - were a complete disaster.”

“No offense taken. I didn’t write them.” Sao scuttled his chair up to Rai’s desk. “The raid was unauthorized, it’s little wonder...”

“What I mean is the quality of the reports. The holes in the story. Witnesses are one thing, but why didn’t the officers get even the most innocuous basics? Look at this.” Rai brought up two dense pages of text, one on each screen. “This one says that Ms. Indigo was found and secured around 7:00 in the evening. But another says 9:00. What the hell is that?”

“Different officers, confirming different times?”

“Yea? How about this - three of the officers noted, very clearly, that the raid happened on a clear starry night. A strange detail to bring up, unless you considered it important, or especially clear. But all the others reported cloudy skies, the main detective who stayed late even reporting that there was a drizzle. The official weather report that night was cloudy with a chance of rain. These were officers who arrived at the same time. The entire case is full of inconsistencies, but the strange thing is, each detail is noted by at least one other person, meaning no single person at the raid can be marked as a liar.” 

Rai drummed the side of his desk, his eyes flitting over the reports.

“Indigo’s sister wasn’t the first to call police with worries about Bell inducting friends or family. It was just the first to be given such serious treatment, because she was a middling-popular singer. Unfortunately, jumping at the chance to raid the place, and then botching the record-keeping, killed HQ’s desire to look into Bell further. I read these files over a dozen times trying to find a reason to recommend pulling their financials, to remove Indigo for her safety, to arrest whoever’s in charge, but came up with nothing - not because of the sanctity of Bell, but because the records are such a mess. Sigma could be chopping up residents and feeding them to illegally-bred crocodiles, and this paperwork fiasco would still ensure a difficult day in court. If it were allowed to get that far. You know how anal the chief is about paperwork.”

“That is bizarre.”

“Yeah. I was glad to just get that trash fire off my desk. A bunch of firings happened afterward. Like I said, the chief hates it when the papers don’t add up. He was especially hard headed in those years.” Rai quickly swept aside that can of worms. “Then, two years later, Delta comes in with this story about Racer. So I take a look at the internal reports and what do I see, within a minute of reading?”

Sao squinted. A neon blue thumb thrust at the screen. 

“‘Clear skies’. ‘Stars’. No! It was rainy - there’s a picture of the scene right here, and here, and the weather report says downpour. Wet mud was the reason they were able to find footprints. But two of four cops decided, ‘oh, this weather is swell’. And here we learn Racer did not turn up for dinner that night - but here, we get two witnesses who say they saw him leave the dining area!” Rai slapped his flickering hand back down to the table. “The concluding statements of the murderer being a stranger were only made based on photographic evidence, reviewed after the fact. Because nobody had their head screwed on right at the scene.”

“Wait.” Sao pressed a hand to his chin. “Mismatched reports, again? Some foul play on the part of the police?”

“If that’s true, the problem could be bigger than we realize. The officers involved this time were totally different from the ones in the raid.” Rai slid aside to let Sao absorb the full spectacle for himself.

The victim had come from the dining area toward the fountain when he was assaulted…

Enormous walls of text made him sleepy. With two monitors, how did Rai resist the impulse to lay his head down on the desk? Sao’s eye grazed over to a similar line on a second report.

The body was lying face down in a pool of blood with the resident rooms to the path behind and the fountain to the path ahead. Crowd of five adults and one child…

One child…?

“I want to take up Delta’s offer to have a poke around Bell.” Rai said, capping the remains of his lunch and shoveling tissues into the grimy plastic bags. “Something’s definitely up, with the place, with the people, hell, maybe even their finances - how do we know Delta told us the truth about that?”

Sao was fairly sure long-standing friendship and intuition were not acceptable answers.

“Whether or not Delta’s taken in by the UFO peace doctrine, Sigma’s supposed childhood enlightenment, the return of the Bells or whatever, it sounds like he’s got practical doubts: thinks the people are turning on the management, saying things are so bad an old man would kill himself to get away. Maybe their dues are being used to pay off the police.”

Sao was motionless.

“Potentially simple, although we’ll take precautions anyhow. Even if we come out with nothing, it can’t be much worse than the last two attempts to ‘investigate’.” The rustling of plastic bags came to a halt. “I guess the final question is, are you okay with it?”

“It sounds fairly straightforward. I do hope that my reporting is satisfactory this time around, as you said...” Sao tried not to look at the half-page of notes (and scribbles) on his desk from their meeting with Delta.

Which Rai had no interest in. “I mean, are you okay with us using an old pal like this? Delta came to you for a favor, to get something off his chest, and I’ll use that as an excuse to get the place shut down if it comes to that.”

“Would it stop you if I objected?”

“Well.” Rai rolled his eyes to the ceiling as if the cobwebs would provide backup. “I might have a hard time strolling up to the gate and asking to be admitted alone. Delta’s your friend, not mine. I’m not exactly the kind who can woo a crowd of strangers. Whereas you seem to have a bunch of them in the palm of your hand after visiting just once.”

“I’ll join you, of course.”

“Good. You’re always useful for this kind of thing.”

“Thanks. You know, Rai, I admire the - ah - clarity of vision you have to say such things.”

“There’s nothing clear about any of this. Clarity is what we’re trying to find.” The red, sunken eyes came back down. “Ugh, this is one of your meditations isn’t it? Meditate on those flubbed reports if you’ve got the time. I’m getting more coffee.”

A smile eked its way across Sao’s face, in spite of it all.