The elevator crawled to a halt and Gemini sprung out onto a sprawling, crowded floor. Groups of her fellow rangers congregated before viewing panes or chattered into communicators or wandered along aisles between rows of desks. Most everyone was dressed in distinctive grey and navy uniforms, while Gemini was still wearing her dusty fatigues. Normally she would have changed before she went up to Hanaway’s office. Not today. The story she had to impart was too important to waste time following protocol. So, all she could do was paw at her messy hair and zip up her flak jacket as she skipped around a couple of rangers who looked like they were heading out to the field.
“Hey, Gem!” one of the rangers called as she approached. “Nice collar today. Cockatrice eggs. Looks like you’re going to top the leader board again. Three times in a row.”
“Thanks.” Gemini didn’t stop. “More luck than judgement.”
“Well, I wish I had more of your luck, that’s for sure.”
Gemini waved over her shoulder and kept moving. She liked her co-workers and was generally well-liked herself (despite some petty jealousies from some of the older guard), but she had no time to chew the fat, and she quickly reached the metal stairs leading up to the senior offices, climbing them two at a time.
As she reached Hanaway’s office, a gnome in a senior uniform bustled out of the door and almost bumped into her. He hopped back and looked up with bright, gimlet eyes set in a wizened, bearded face. “Ah!” he said. “Ranger Sohn! When did you get back?”
“About five minutes ago, sir.”
“Cockatrice eggs, right?” The gnome had a merry lilt in his voice. Gemini had always liked Commander Fulk.
“Yes, sir. That’s correct.”
“Word is you were sailing a little close to the Kromor space border there for a while.” The commander raised an eyebrow at her.
Gemini offered a small smile. “Seems I was fortunate to have caught up with them before they drifted out of reach.”
“Hmm,” the gnome mused. “You do seem to have a lot of fortune on your side, Gemini. You sure you’re not part leprechaun?”
“Not as far as I’m aware, sir.”
Fulk’s eyes twinkled. “You here to report to Hanaway?”
“That I am, sir.”
“Must be eager. Haven’t changed into your uniform.”
“No, sir.”
“Alright then. But be warned. Hanaway’s in another of his moods.” And with a nod, Commander Fulk scuttled on his way leaving Gemini to jerk down her vest, as if this made much difference to her appearance. She approached the door to Hanaway’s office and rapped three times. Stepping back, she then heard a humourless voice call out, “Yes?” And Gemini gathered herself before opening the door and stepping into the office.
At first, Gemini didn’t see her superior. The chair behind his broad desk was empty and there was no one standing at the window offering a commanding vista of bleak surface of Genek IV. That view was a reminder of why Gemini was glad she was a Sweeper. After all the colourful places her job had taken her to (even amongst the bright constellations of deep space), the seat of the Ranger Patrol was always a depressing disappointment. Shrouded in shadow due to its distance from its sun, Genek IV was little more than a windswept rock spinning in the far reaches of space. Indeed, the only reason Gemini could see beyond the perimeter of the Ranger Head Quarters at all was because of the garishly lit landing platforms with its constant flow of moving traffic. Yet Genek IV’s strategic importance could not be overstated. For not only was this the sole planet in the Aetorean System that had been claimed by humankind upon their arrival over a century ago, but this was also where the Thresholds were situated. Gemini could just make out the edges of the Toran Ridge, the home of these strange, alien doorways just a mile or so away from the strip. Gemini felt a faint prickle of unease. She was not alone, either. Most everyone who had seen the Thresholds up close always returned with the same ill feeling. It was odd, but it went beyond their miraculous ability to defy the immense distances between galaxies. Rather, like the deserted Narinill Plains that were situated just on the other side of the Ridge, there was a spooky quality to the place that defied understanding. And then there were all those stories of ghosts out there in the howling dark…
“Ranger Sohn…”
Gemini quickly switched her eyes away from the window to a wardrobe in the corner of the room. She heard Hanaway’s voice, but didn’t see him until he emerged from behind the open door. He was adjusting his shirt collars and fussing with his buttons. Hanaway often spent so many hours in his office, he sometimes slept in an adjoining room and changed his clothes while he was here. As long as she had known him, Gemini still had no idea where Hanaway lived or whether he had a significant other to go home to.
“Section Chief Hanaway.” Gemini slipped her hands behind her back and stood to attention.
Hanaway sauntered to his desk. He was a big man with a moustache and greying hair at his temples. Gemini knew her boss had once been a Sweeper like her. Almost twenty solitary years running missions in the depths of space undoubtedly influenced an individual. In Hanaway’s case, it seemed to have made him taciturn, ill-tempered, and humourless.
“When did you get back?” He didn’t afford Gemini his full attention, idly scanning read-outs crawling across the viewing panel on his desk.
“Just a few minutes ago, sir.”
“Uh huh. Even so, you didn’t think to change into your uniform?”
“I wanted to see you straight away. On a matter of some importance.”
Hanaway sniffed. “Is that right? More important than a recent haul of a thousand cockatrice eggs?” Finally, he looked up. “Congratulations, by the way.”
“Thank you, sir.” Gemini detected little warmth in the praise. “And yes, more important than that.”
“I see. Well, that would explain your eagerness to come to my office in your fatigues. Not that it seems to stop you bending the rules at every turn. Like your coordinates when you intercepted that Space Runner. A good five hundred leagues inside the dwarfish border I understand.”
“Well, I thought, under the circumstances, sir…”
“…You’d ignore a patrol regulation.”
Gemini had been prepared for a little flack, so said, “Sir, my intention was to make sure those eggs didn’t reach Xoros. I may have slightly overstepped the mark, but I balanced the damage that would be done against putting a few dwarfish noses out of joint. Besides, I doubted anyone would discover my presence on the wrong side of their borders anyway. As it happens, they didn’t.”
“So you hope. It’s only been a few hours since you intercepted the craft. Who’s to say I won’t receive a communication from some dwarfish official demanding to know why the Ranger Patrol is contravening their border regulations?”
“I expect that would only happen if someone from our own side leaked that information, sir.”
Hanaway grunted. “You’re so sure you weren’t picked up?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Because, contrary to popular belief, it’s not your head that will be on the block if this gets out. The rules are there for a reason, Sohn. You should know that better than most.”
Gemini balled her fists behind her back. She also anticipated that Hanaway would somehow make a reference to the one big mistake of her career. He always seemed to find an excuse to do so, even after all this time. Yet it still stung to be reminded almost every time she walked in the office.
“My point is,” Hanaway went on, before Gemini could reply, “you seem to have the luxury of not worrying about the wider implications. But the border restrictions also come under the Kharg-Rillion Covenants just as much as the Preservation Initiatives do. And it’s a fact, is it not, that you still have to let the dwarfish authorities know you are crossing into their territory, and what you’re up to, before boarding any merchant vessel? That’s no matter what your suspicions.”
“I’m fully aware of the rules, sir. But there have been instances of our co
mmuniques being intercepted by duergar raiders right across the Outer Rim. I felt it important not to run that risk. If the eggs were simply handed off to the duergar…”
Hanaway held up a hand. “I don’t think you need to lecture me about dwarfish internal affairs, do you?”
“No, sir. Of course not, sir.”
“I’m just giving a warning, that’s all. At this rate, that luck of yours is going to run out. And when it does, I’ll be damned if I’ll end up taking the fall for it. I’ve worked too hard for too long a time to get where I am today. I’m not going to compromise my chance of any further advancement because of one hot-headed Sweeper who thinks they have nine lives. So…the long and short of it is, indulge in any more risks like you have today, even if you arrogantly think the pay-off is worth it, and I’ll see you up on charges. You’ll spend the next few months in the depths of the archive halls trawling through stolen licence numbers, got it?”
Gemini tightened her fists.
Hanaway glared. “Do you understand what I’m telling you, Ranger?”
“Yes, sir,” Gemini replied stiffly. “I do, sir.”
“Very well.” Hanaway lowered his big frame into his chair. “So, what’s this news that’s so important you couldn’t be bothered to change into your uniform for me?”
Gemini paused. Commander Fulk had only been partially correct. Hanaway wasn’t just in a bad mood, he looked like he was cruising for a fight. So, she would have to step carefully with this. “Sir, I’ve happened across some very alarming information while I was scouting the Space Runner. Something I think you should know.”
“Really? And what’s that?”
“There’s going to be a dragon slaying, sir. On Terevell.”
Now, finally, Hanaway seemed to focus. He lifted his chin sharply. “What?”
“I found a fragment of a memorandum on the Runner’s internal systems. The traffickers had only had time to partially encrypt it before they abandoned ship, so I think it was genuine. There’s going to be a hunt on Ilmaris. Probably within the next few days.”
Hanaway hadn’t blinked. “A dragon slaying?” he said. “In Ilmaris?” He didn’t sound like he believed it.
“Yes, sir.”
“And this was from a memorandum?”
Gemini nodded.
“And where is that memorandum now?”
Gemini had tried to make the lie as simple as possible. After all, there was no way she was going to tell Hanaway the truth of how she had received the information. It was bad enough that she’d let eight pixies with records as long as her arm escape after perpetrating a very serious crime.
“Well?”
“It’s… It’s gone, sir.”
“Gone? What do you mean, ‘gone’?”
“It was scrubbed before I could sift through most of the details. A virus deleted most of the fragment before I could fully decrypt it. But I was able to ascertain the confirmation of the hunt, as well as some partial border codes linked to a tracking device.”
Hanaway leaned slowly back into his chair.
“And do you know who this fragment was from?”
“That I can’t be sure of. Although, it seems whoever was trafficking the cockatrice eggs helped to secure the forger used to create the permit code. That’s how they knew it was going down.”
“But I don’t suppose you know the identity of the forger either?”
Gemini shifted slightly. The way Hanaway was intently staring at her was making her increasingly nervous.
“I told you, sir. I only managed to briefly glimpse the message. But I believe it was genuine.”
“You believe it was.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Well, last time I looked, we based strategy on evidence, Ranger, and not on assumptions.”
“Yes, but I have evidence, sir.”
“Do you? I thought you said the memorandum was destroyed.”
“I mean, I saw it, sir. With my own eyes.”
“And based on that, you want me to do… what exactly?”
Gemini faltered. “Well, it seems to me if this is true, and we do nothing, the High King will want to know why. Killing a dragon in a Terevellian territory without approval from the authority of the region is a direct contravention of the Kharg-Rillion Covenants. Shouldn’t we at least send a patrol down to the surface?”
“You really think that’s a sensible use of Ranger Patrol resources?”
“Excuse me?”
“Did it ever occur to you that maybe you were meant to find that memorandum?”
“Meant to…?” She frowned. “Why?”
“The crew were pixies, Sohn. That’s what you said in your prelim report, wasn’t it? You found evidence of the manifest in their language on the ship?”
“Correct, sir.”
“You know what pixies are good at, aside from breaking trafficking laws? Making mischief, Sohn. Hoodwinking. Leading the authorities on wild goose chases. I’m surprised you were so taken in.”
Gemini couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “But this wasn’t some kind of trick, sir…”
“How can you be sure?”
“The dragon activity on Terevell for one. Everyone’s seen the reports. It’s moved into populated areas. It probably came down from the mountains. Which means it’s established a lair in low-land areas, and that would make it a lot easier to find and kill.”
“That in and of itself is not evidence that a hunt is taking place.”
“But, sir…”
“Look,” Hanaway interrupted impatiently. “It’s quite simple. The memorandum was probably a distraction. Misdirection. A means to divert your attention while the crew could put as much distance between you and them as possible. And the lie was good enough to let them get away.”
“Except it wasn’t a lie,” Gemini muttered, unable to keep the note of defiance out of her voice.
Hanaway’s face darkened. “Based on what? A hunch?”
Gemini opened her mouth but closed it again quickly. She couldn’t very well tell Hanaway that she hadn’t discovered a memorandum at all and was instead relying on the testimony of one of the most untrustworthy beings in the galaxy.
“Well?”
“Well…Based on experience, sir.”
Hanaway looked Gemini up and down critically. “Really? And my experience counts for nothing, is that what you’re saying?”
“Sir, what could it hurt to send me down to Terevell to make a preliminary investigation? If there’s nothing there, I’ll stand corrected and happily acquiesce to any assignment you want to put me on.”
“I think you should happily acquiesce to any assignment I want to put you on anyway, Ranger. Seeing as I’m your section chief.”
“But what does it matter if I just go down and take a look around?”
“Because I say so!” Hanaway snapped, loud enough to attract the attention of a couple of rangers passing by the door. “Damn it, Sohn! When will you realise, you’re not in charge here? I am! You realise I could throw the book at you if it’s proved you let a crew of traffickers escape because you weren’t paying attention to your job, don’t you?”
“Yes, sir. Of course.”
“So, you’re barking up the wrong tree here, understand? You were duped. And I have to make a judgement call every minute of every day as to where my resources are best placed. Not to mention the political implications. There’s a delicate situation going down on Terevell. The last thing I need is for one of my rangers to throw themselves into an already difficult situation and make matters worse. Now, I’ve spent too much time listening to your little story as it is. Take a standard twenty-four hour leave. You look tired. And come back tomorrow morning refreshed. Then you’ll be assigned your next investigation.” Gemini hesitated. Hanaway raised his eyebrows again. “You hear me, Sohn?”
“Yes, sir. I did, sir.”
“Very good. That will be all.”
Reluctantly Gemini stalked from the room.
2<
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Gemini stood on the balcony overlooking the communications centre, the hubbub bleeding into the background. Part of her wanted to storm back into Hanaway’s office and tell him what a pig-headed idiot he was. But she also knew he had a point. The situation on Terevell was delicate. Ever since the Preservation Act had come into force, Terevell had become more and more insular, largely due to the High King’s influence. This was no surprise. His seat was in the World Tree, and the very soul of the planet. It meant that he had more power than the other kings and queens of Terevell, and he had long argued the planet should be returned to its natural state before humans had arrived in the Aetorean System. He’d even used Earth as a cautionary tale. Humans, he’d said, should never be left to roam the galaxy unchecked after what they had done to their own planet. Such reasoning had a lot of sympathisers. Even the Free People’s Assembly had only offered partial resistance when the Border Gates were suggested.
But Zerian was not all he seemed.
“The Zealot King,” Gemini murmured to herself. That’s what some of his own people had called him, at least the ones who had been exiled from the planet. It might have simply been bitterness, of course. It was common knowledge that elves relied on the magical waters of their planet for their long life, and to be banished from their beloved Terevell was not only an unbearable grief but a dwindling, tortuous death. At least in comparison to those they left behind. And yet, if any of the rumours were to be believed, Zerian was not simply a champion of the delicate equilibrium the World Tree seemed to provide. He was also an elf given to fanatical ideologies—even at the cost of his own people. Which was why, when the dragon had first appeared in Ilmaris some years ago, he had done nothing to save them. The divine will of the Soul of the World, he’d said. It was not his place to interfere.
Not that Gemini could be sure quite how accurate such reports were. As far as she was aware, Zerian was an elf of great deportment and fierce intellect. And whatever the whispers about his adherence to the philosophy of Balance, a dragon hunt had far-reaching consequences. It could weaken the very foundations of the Kharg-Rillion Covenants, and the Ranger Patrol with it.
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