by E.E. Blake
~
Dwain gazed out the window into the dark waters below, and a sharp chill went up his spine. For an airship engineer, the hedgehog strangely hated flying – especially over the Gabriel Sea. He didn’t know why.
It would be a few hours yet until the crew would reach Garia, and Dwain was more than happy to reach land again.
As Dwain passed the telescreen in the room he shared with Sol and Felix, he noticed Prime Minister Lablanche rise to a stand at an ambo, as camera-flashes behind the live feed’s source went off in his face.
“Sit down or get out of the the way!” Sol whined from where he lay on one of the cots.
Dwain murmured an apology and sat down on the edge of the bed Felix occupied; the old hound was curled on his side, snoring like he was bulldozing a whole forest.
“There has been a grave disturbance in the lands to the west,” said Prime Minister Lablanche as soon as the excited reporters calmed down. “Four days ago, the Alliance arrested a lone bandit who was snooping around Doblah Region. Three days ago, the bandit escaped custody and now wreaks havoc all across Vida.”
“Oh no,” Dwain gasped under the explosion of audience chatter over the telescreen.
“It’s about time he said something about it,” Sol ranted.
“Prime Minister, has our planet-wide peace treaty been broken, then?” one of the reporters asked.
“Possibly,” Zoot replied, staring ahead with a hard-set jaw. “I don’t want my people to worry. This blasphemer to Doblah will be found, and he will be executed before a court.”
“What’s he even done that warrants a death sentence, anyway?” Dwain asked Sol from over one shoulder.
“He killed a bunch of Alliance troops on his way outta Doblah, remember?” Sol said.
“No, I mean – what did he do to get arrested in the first place?”
The black-and-brown long-haired feline offered a helpless shrug from where he lay.
Dwain looked back at the telescreen, just as another reporter piped up.
“Prime Minister! Prime Minister, over here! What does this threat mean to the safety of Vidians everywhere?”
“Everything is under control,” Prime Minister Lablanche assured. “As of now, I have sent additional Alliance units to the various outposts across each continent. While this blasphemer to Doblah is armed and incredibly dangerous – I can assure you there is nothing to fear. I will not put my people in harm’s way.”
Dwain went to get a drink from the standing bar on the other side of the room.
He said the bandit was in the west … Does he mean Galheist Region? The hedgehog wondered. Regina instantly came to mind. Galheist wasn’t large at all, made up of only four major boroughs: Keeto, Altas, Condor, and Padora; as well as Sharktapus Beach and the desert of Menyard.
Dwain looked at the clock hanging above the telescreen. Regina’s day shift would have just ended two hours before. He went to the phone and dialed Regina’s number – but no one picked up.
A dark feeling overcame Dwain, but he shook his head to dispel his worry.
She’s fine, he told himself. She’s probably just out, or in the bath, or something.
“Prime Minister Lablanche! Do you know who this escaped bandit is?” asked a third reporter on the telescreen.
Prime Minister Lablanche went quiet – and after a moment, he leaned over the ambo with hands clutching either side, and said, “…A heretic, of course.”