RED SHOES

Inside a log house sitting on a hillside a little girl was dreaming of a pair of red shoes. Outside, the wind was howling, blowing snow onto the front porch, and filling the ruts in the road that ran before the house. Downstairs, her mother fretted. Her father had left the house to travel to the nearest village in search of presents for his family. He had loaded his wagon with logs for people’s fireplaces and a fair amount of kindling which he hoped to sell before the first heavy snow. It was getting dark as he headed home, but with the wagon empty save for a few small purchases, he could drive the horses at a faster pace. He was a league from home when the snow started to fall.

Upon his arrival home, he unhitched the horses, shooing them into the stable while he pushed the wagon into its shed. After brushing off the snow from the wagon, he went to the stable to tend to the horses. Outside the snow continued to fall at a faster rate. Once done with settling the horses into their stalls for the night, fitting their blankets and providing them with food and water, he headed toward the only light visible to him.

His wife met him in the kitchen, helping him brush off the snow and encouraging him to rest by the fire while she served up a bowl of stew and a small boule. Awakened by the creaking of a hinge, the little girl who slept in the loft above the kitchen made her way down the narrow winding stairs. She rushed across the wooden floor and flung herself toward her father. He picked her up and settled her upon his knees. “Papa,” she squealed, “what did you bring me?”

“Dumpling, shouldn’t you be in bed?” he replied. She pouted in response. “I did bring you something, but I’m afraid that I left it in the wagon out in the shed. You’ll just have to wait for morning.”

“Go on, now, back to bed,” her mother chided as she set down the bowl of stew for father’s supper. The little girl pouted briefly before kissing her father on his cheek, jumping down off his lap, and climbing back up the stairs to her loft bed.

By morning, the wind had died down and the snow had blanketed the rutted road. A breakfast of porridge and warm milk awaited Dumpling when she arrived in the kitchen. Her father had already left for the stables to tend to the horses. She sat quietly eating her porridge while her mother cleaned up the dishes from earlier. Occasionally she would glance toward the door whenever she thought her father might be returning with the packages from the village. Outside, her father went from the stable to the shed to retrieve the sack from the wagon. He hung it on a peg while he loaded up the wagon with more wood for his next trip into town. Feeling the cold, he trudged back to the house to warm himself up, forgetting the sack much to his daughter’s disappointment. “I’ll bring it in soon enough, Dumpling,” he promised as he headed out the door again.

After her father left for the day, Dumpling helped her mother clean the breakfast dishes, drying each piece carefully and placing them on the table in neat stacks. After she finished, her mother sent her to the front parlor. While the mother tidied up the parent’s loft, Dumpling sat in a large upholstered chair to read one of her story books. She waited for the sound of her mother’s sewing machine before tucking away the book and skipping across the room.

In one corner of the room, on a small round tea table, sat a large snow globe with a wooden base. Sitting beside the base of the snow globe was a large brass key. Dumpling inserted the key into a hole in the base of the snow globe She wound the key until it stopped, then turned around to face the room and waited for the music to start playing. She slowly started to dance around the parlor twirling and leaping about in time with the music. She continued to practice her dance until she grew tired and hungry. She grabbed a small piece of bread from the kitchen and sat down again to finish her storybook. When she heard her mother coming down the stairs, she quickly ran to the kitchen to brush the crumbs into the fireplace.

Her mother grabbed two bowls and ladled some soup from the pot. Dumpling smiled while she inhaled the steam rising from the bowl. She could smell the carrots and onions and knew that somewhere among them were the sweet roots that her mother called parsnips. She took her time eating, happy to find mostly parsnips in her soup. After finishing, she helped her mother with the dishes as she always did. As the sun began to set a second snowfall began. Her father arrived soon after, shaking the snow from his coat and hanging a sack on the coat pegs before kneeling down to greet his daughter. Dumpling hugged her father and kissed him on the cheek. “What’s for supper, Dumpling?”

“What did you bring us?” she replied.

“Well, let me see,” he stood up and took the bag off the peg. He opened the bag and peered inside it feigning surprise as he pulled out a rabbit. Handing it to his wife, “I believe that is tomorrow’s supper.” Reaching inside the bag again, he pulled out a large white feather. “I wonder what this could be from,” he said winking at his wife.

“It is a goose?” Dumpling guessed. “Please let it be a goose.”

Reaching into the bag, her father pretended to be searching for something. “It has a long neck, much too long for a chicken.” He pulled the bird out of the bag. “Would you look at that! It is a goose,” he exclaimed.

Dumpling clapped with glee at having guessed correctly. “Is there anything else?” she leaned in toward her father. “Maybe something for just me?”

“Maybe,” he replied, “after supper. Dumpling pouted briefly, then offered to help, but her parents sent her into the sitting room to read a book or play with one of her dolls. While she sorted through the contents of the chest of her playthings, her parents went about preparing both the rabbit and the goose for the upcoming meals. Worried that someone might forget her favorite vegetable, she made a foray into the kitchen to gather a large bundle of parsnips for the rabbit stew. After dropping the bundle on the table, she skipped happily back to the sitting room to play.

After dinner, Dumpling’s mother announced, “I have something for you upstairs. We’ll go get it after we finish cleaning up here. Your father will help so you won’t have to wait long to get your present.” Dumpling swallowed the last piece of parsnip on her plate and proceeded to lick it as clean as possible. Her fathered smiled at her as she handed him the plate. Dumpling helped her mother clean the dishes while her father scaped the leftovers into the soup pot. When they finished all the work, her mother escorted her up the stairs to her parent’s loft. “I know how much you love to dance. I made you a dress for dancing in.”

“Oh, mama, it’s perfect,” Dumpling hugged her mother. “May I put it on now?”

“Of course, otherwise I would have just brought it down for you.”

After donning the dress, Dumpling and her mother went downstairs to show her father. “Look, papa, it’s a red dress just like the ballerina wears.” Her father smiled and nodded, then showed her what he was hiding behind his back. “Red shoes! Oh, papa, they are just what I wanted.” She took the shoes from her father and put them on. Walking over to the snow globe she raised a leg into the air. “See,” she said, “don’t I look just like her?” Putting her leg down, she picked up the key and wound the music box. “I have a present for you,” she turned to face them as they took seats in the sitting room. As the notes from the Waltz of the Flowers filled the room, she began the dance she had been practicing all month.

2: The Skip Trace

(1)

Solara was barely through the door to Director Rale Moth's office when he spoke to her. "We have a default on a small cargo vessel out of Astrid. I've already sent the file to you. This is fresh and should be easy."

"I have other plans. Can't this wait? Or maybe someone else can take the job?"

"You are the only one with a ship large enough to bring in the cargo hauler. And no, it can't wait. You'll just have to put your plans on hold."

Solara sighed loudly. "Fine." She turned and stormed out the door. Returning to the Banshee, she broke the bad news to her new co-pilot, Hippolyta Jens. Solara liked Jens. She wasn’t afraid to express an opinion or make a suggestion. She also wasn’t afraid of Solara popping up suddenly out of thin air.

"The Eldritch Cartel isn't going anywhere. Let's earn our pay." Hippolyta wasn't in a rush to return to Eldritch space anyway. She had recently escaped from the Cartel, and it nearly got her killed. The Harbinger had saved her and given her a job after returning the other escapees to their homes. Her home was long gone, destroyed by the Cartel. But she felt at home on the deck of the Banshee

Solara opened the file on the skip and sent it to the big screen. The cargo ship was little more than a glorified moving van, small enough to fit into the Banshee’s main cargo hold. The owner had rather pretentiously named it Laissez-Faire. “Heh,” Hippolyta remarked, “that name alone should have been a warning that the owner would default.”

“Our job is to recover the cargo. Failing that we impound the ship. Trans-Galactic Indemnities insured the cargo for thirty million standard credits.”

“Not exactly chump change. Where do we start?”

“We start with the client. We should arrive at Astrid in an hour. Memorize the manifest. We’ll be out of the ship for a while. The less we carry, the better. Stunners only.”

(2)

Astrid was an Earthlike planet roughly the size of Mars with two major cities. A private collector had contracted the Laissez-Faire to move several works of art from his personal mansion outside of Bergen to a museum in Odessa. The shipment never arrived. Their first stop would be the client’s mansion to verify that the objects in question were missing from his premises. Phillipe Lucian was waiting for Solara’s arrival in his private office. “I hoped that our next meeting would be under better circumstances. Remy didn’t give us a moment alone the last time we met.”

“Remy was trying to keep me out of trouble. He said that you collected exotic artifacts and feared that I would end up locked away in one of your vaults.” allow me to introduce my assistant,” Solara nodded to the red-haired woman standing next to her. “Hippolyta Jens, meet Phillipe Lucian, our client.”

Hippolyta extended her hand. “Pleased to meet you, Mister Lucian.” Phillipe glanced down at her long fingernails and submitted a weak handshake in response.

Phillipe had gathered together all the necessary paperwork regarding the arrangements made with the Sunshine Museum in Odessa for a showing of selected works of art from his private collection. “I’m more interested in the arrangements with the shipper. Did you oversee the loading of the art onto the Laissez-Faire?”

“Yes. I crated the items myself and oversaw the loading of every crate into the ship’s hold. I have a copy of the manifest signed by the shipper.”

Solara sat down at the desk and shuffled through the paperwork making mental notes as she examined each one. There was nothing on the manifest that she hadn’t seen during an earlier visit, and she had already spotted a few empty spaces that the objects had once occupied. “Everything appears to be in order.” Solara smiled, “Let’s go, Hippolyta. It’s time to check out the shipper.”

(3)

The office of Laissez-Faire Shipping lay on the outskirts of the city near the local rail hub. The locked office was empty when the two women arrived. Except for a lone vehicle parked at the far end of the hangar, the place looked abandoned. Solara transported the two inside the cluttered room. While searching the desk, Solara noticed that there were multiple unanswered messages on his desktop. Solara played them while Hippolyta searched through the file cabinet. Most of the messages were from the Sunshine Museum and Phillipe Lucian asking about the shipment. The most recent message was from a debt collector. “Listen, Mister Bobby Jones,” the message stated, “your payment is way overdue. You promised to repay it soon. Well, it’s soon and we are coming to collect.” Solara added the debt collector to the list of people to interview.

Hippolyta found corresponding paperwork for the shipment in the files and had just placed them on the desk when the message started to play. She recognized the voice as someone from her past. Someone that she hadn’t told Solara about.

Solara opened the interior door leading to the hanger. Before she could step through, a man with more teeth than hair appeared in the doorway and forced her to back up. “Where’s Bobby?” the grinning gunman demanded.

“He’s not here, Moose,” Hippolyta replied. “And put that toy away before you hurt yourself.”

“Hippo?” he lowered his weapon. “I thought you was a goner. Word was the Cartel offed you.”

“Well, I’m back now. And my friend and I are looking for Bob Jones and his ship.”

“His ship ain’t here. He owes a lot of credits on some bets he made that didn’t go his way. Boss said to take the ship if he didn’t pay.”

(4)

Back on board the Banshee, Solara entered the flight plan filed by Bob Jones for the Laissez-Faire into the navigational computer. The anti-planetary rotation sub-orbital arc would pull some serious gravitational forces requiring both women to strap into their seats. It was essential to follow all standard safety protocols during the flight. As an added precaution, Solara linked her flight recorder to the nearest Trans-Galactic satellite. The Banshee completed the hop without incident. Noticing that the Banshee had flown close to the TGI satellite, Solara requested a download of all observations made by the satellite in the past forty-eight hours. She planned to review the footage after her visit to the Sunshine Museum.

The Special Exhibit Curator, Edvard Munich, was waiting for Solara and Hippolyta at the Sunshine Museum main lobby. He walked them back to his office to discuss the missed delivery of the loaned artifacts. “We should be opening the exhibit by now but, as you know, it never arrived.” He gestured to two guest chairs. “Please, have a seat,” he said before sitting at his desk. “I understand that the artworks were insured with Trans-Galactic by Phillipe Lucian. Our museum also has a policy indemnifying us against loss. If we cancel the show, the museum stands to lose a great deal of money.”

“And our job is to see that no one loses,” Solara asserted. “We would like to inspect your paperwork as well as the preparations made to secure the gallery against theft.”

(5)

Upon returning to the Banshee, Solara started her review of the data from the satellite with Hippolyta acting as a second set of eyes. She started with the radio intercept between the Laissez-Faire and Astrid Space Traffic Control. Bob Jones made the usual clearances and narrated his ascent until transmission abruptly ceased. A short conversation with a records clerk at Astrid STC confirmed that it was Jones who broke the transmission.

The optical data was next on her agenda. Both women watched as the ship changed from being a small dot to suddenly disappearing. The clerk at Astrid STC had been kind enough to relay the optical data gathered from six other satellites. “Boss,” Hippolyta suggested, “how about we run all seven together? Maybe we’ll see something we’re missing.” Solara had the Banshee’s computer synchronize the video streams. After a few run throughs, she rearranged the satellite views on the big screen. Hippolyta used the visual data to construct a three-dimensional representation of the images. Both women watched as something unseen swallowed the small cargo hauler.

Solara made another request of the clerk. She asked for all available radar and infrared data from any satellites watching that area of space. The clerk sent her four sets of each type. An hour later, they had a rough visual of the ship that swallowed the Laissez-Faire. All that they had to do was track it down and recover the stolen articles.

It was time to take the case to the Constable Corps. Tracking the mystery ship was going to require accessing data from both civilian satellites and Constable Corps monitoring stations. That also meant bringing a Constable on board the Banshee.

(6)

The trail led the Banshee into Eldritch Cartel space. The Eldritch carrier appeared to be adrift, but the Eldritch had shown that they were not above subterfuge. And it wasn’t easy to fool Solara. But the situation had piqued her curiosity. She slipped off her boots and grabbed a few weapons, just in case, before translocating to the damaged vessel. A foul odor informed her that something had damaged life support. Hippolyta informed her that a scan of the ship showed no life signs except for a single faint heat signature in the cargo hold. A quick check confirmed that its crew had abandoned the ship with the Laissez-Faire still contained in its hold.

Solara found Bob Jones holed up in a compartment not far from the bridge of the Laissez-Faire. Despite his weakened state, he still managed to point a weapon at her. She approached him slowly, giving him a chance to see that he was in no danger. Bob stared at the approaching mallow-skinned being. Her voice was surprisingly human as she spoke to him. “Mister Jones, I’m here to rescue you from the cold. My ship is nearby. I can take you there.”

“But what about my cargo?” he asked.

“I’ll also recover your ship and its cargo. Trans-Galactic doesn’t like to pay out on large claims. That’s why they sent me to find you and your shipment.”

“Trans-Galactic?” He stared into her hazel eyes. “You’re her, aren’t you? The Harbinger.”

“I prefer to think of myself as the galaxy’s best skip tracer, but yes.” Solara reached down to help him to his feet before jumping back to the Banshee. Once back, she handed Jones over to the constable.

Freeing the Laissez-Faire from the alien carrier was not going to be easy. The ship had lost power and that meant that opening the doors would be a challenge. The Laissez-Faire was also without power, but the Banshee could easily winch it out of the carrier and into her own hold. Except the carrier doors wouldn’t open without power. Solara needed to know more than she had gleaned from her first physical contact with Jones, which was next to nothing because he was so focused on her. She grabbed his arm. “Tell me everything you know about the carrier.”

“I don’t know anything about it,” Jones lied.

“Tell me everything you know about the attack that led to it being abandoned,” she tightened her grip on his arm. “I guarantee that lying to me again will be a painful experience.”

Jones winced. “I don’t know much. They chatted about a strange ship appearing. It fired something at them, then the power went out. I tried to restart my engines, but I couldn’t. Everything was frozen.”

Solara smiled and released Jones. While Jones massaged his sore arm, Solara grabbed a weapon from her armory and disappeared. Hippolyta noticed Jones interest in the armory, “Don’t bother. You’ll be out for days.”

“Do you read minds too?” Jones backed away from her.

“No,” the Constable laughed, “she’s speaking from experience.”

Solara waited inside the carrier’s cargo bay, lying prone on top of the Laissez-Faire, looking down at the bay floor, anticipating the bump that would raise the ship off the deck. Once the Laissez-Faire was free of contact with the carrier, she would jump the ship into the Banshee. It was a risk to transfer that much mass, but it was what Trans-Galactic paid her for. Hippolyta maneuvered the Banshee into position parallel to the carrier’s cargo decking. A short burst of the thrusters would result in a hull bump. She took a deep breath before tapping the screen. “Here goes everything.” Although Solara completed the transfer is under a minute, the interval felt like hours to Hippolyta while she waited for Solara to return to the Banshee’s bridge. Just before she lost consciousness, Solara was able to return to the bridge of the Banshee.

1: The Harbinger

(1)

Solara appeared suddenly aboard the doomed yacht, wrapped her arms around the nearest crewmember and just as suddenly disappeared. With its engines offline and its life support compromised, the luxury yacht had drifted into the gravity well of a small moon. There wasn’t time to launch the SRS Banshee and capture the ship before impact. Solara was their only chance of survival. As the powerless luxury yacht plummeted toward the surface of the small moon, Solara continued to rescue its eight crew members, depositing each of them within a confinement element attached to the modular freighter Exodus. Seconds before impact, Solara had safely transported the last members of the yacht’s crew into the module.

Solara was transporting the prefabricated prison cell to Central Station for the Constable Corps. The CCS Sentinel was escorting the shipment and had been closely following the Exodus when the two ships detected the distress call. The yacht Fancy Squirrel claimed it was under attack when the Exodus and the CCS Sentinel arrived. The CCS Sentinel pursued another ship that was fleeing the scene while Solara set out to rescue the Fancy Squirrel. Besides having the ability to translocate, she also was a contact telepath. And it was information gleaned from the Fancy Squirrel's crew that troubled her.

(2)

Captain Hippolyta Jens performed a head count of her crew. Satisfied that everyone was safely onboard, she turned her attention to their host. Although the female looked outwardly human, it was obvious to Captain Jens that she wasn't. The woman’s ability to translocate limited the number of species to which she might belong. There were only half a dozen corporeal species with that ability, but only one that resembled humans - the Harbinger. Seeing her host standing outside the cell, Captain Jens raised her voice in protest. "Why are we being treated like prisoners?"

Solara turned to face the human who accosted her. The speaker was a stout female with a mop of red hair flowing from the top of her head down to her waist. Her green eyes made her look more alien than Solara. She smiled at the woman. "You aren't prisoners."

"We are in barred cages. If we are not prisoners, then what are we?"

"Guests," Solara sighed. "There are no other quarters on this ship."

"Then unlock the doors," Captain Jens demanded.

"They aren't locked,” Solara replied. Captain Jens reached forward and pushed against the door. It didn't budge. Before she could protest, Solara laughed. "Try sliding the door to the left." When Captain Jens tried again to open the cell door, it slid open coming to rest silently against the cage bars.

Captain Jens stepped out of the holding cell and extended her hand. "Please accept my apology for my behavior. My ship was fired upon for no apparent reason and left to drift into that rather large asteroid."

Solara declined, stating "Your anger is understandable, but I did not fire upon you. We are currently in pursuit of the offending vessel. If you wish, I can drop you off at the nearest human station."

“I’d prefer to maintain the pursuit.”

“And your crew?”

“My crew does what I tell them to. You’ll get no disagreement from them.”

It wasn’t entirely truthful to say that they were guests in the hospitality sense. Although they could leave the locked cells and intermingle, they only had access to the module’s amenities. Solara had stripped them of their weapons and the means to communicate outside their confines. The holding area had no access to the rest of the ship. She also had lied about the pursuit believing that the less Captain Jens knew, the better.

Confident that she had securely confined her passengers, Solara made her way down the main corridor aboard the cargo ship Exodus. She unlocked the clamps securing the salvage and reclamation ship SRS Banshee to the Exodus. Disengaging the SRS Banshee, she took the salvage vessel down to the surface to examine the debris. She was particularly interested in the cause of the engine failure. The very low level of infrared emanating from the intact engine core confirmed her suspicions. Someone had shut down the ship's engines setting it adrift. She scraped the surface of the moon where the debris field was, collecting a layer of moon dust in the process.

A records search revealed that the Fancy Squirrel was an unregistered ship. Using an infrared laser, Solara examined the layers of paint on a hull fragment. The ship had recently been repainted and renamed. Beneath the freshly painted word " Squirrel", she could clearly read the letters "ng Duck". Checking her employers' records, she found the Flying Duck listed among missing ships presumed stolen by pirates. Solara was glad that she trusted her instincts with its crew when she brought them aboard. She sent a summary of her findings in an encrypted data packet to her employer before informing the Constabulary about her passengers

(3)

While Solara dealt with rescuing the crew of the damaged yacht, the CCS Sentinel took chase after the fleeing ship. Although the Constable Corps cruiser could easily have overtaken the smaller corvette, Captain Remy Lucian wanted to follow it back to their base. They shadowed the small craft as it made port at a small asteroidal outpost.

Captain Lucian checked the registry files to see if it was a licensed listed outpost. It was and seriously overdue for an inspection. Lucian opened a communication channel. "Attention, Groddy Haven, this is the Constable Corps Enforcement Division. I am Captain Remy Lucian in command of the CCS Sentinel. We are coming in to inspect your records. Please prepare for our arrival."

The port manager at Groddy Haven put down his bottle of scotch and wiped his chin before replying. "This is Groddy Haven. We'll have our records ready for your arrival. How soon will that be?"

"Our shuttle should arrive within the half hour."

"Acknowledged," the port manager replied. He flicked off the radio and took a final swig of scotch before capping the bottle and stowing it away. "Damn bluecoats," he muttered as he started to organize the box of slips that he had been ignoring since the last inspection. He had hoped that the authorities had forgotten about the outpost when the time for the latest inspection passed without a visit from the Port Registration Bureau. He could handle those paper pushers. Bluecoats were another matter.

The port attendant who met the shuttle wasn't sure how to greet the Constables. He stood stiffly at what he assumed to be attention and saluted the three men who exited the craft. Captain Lucian laughed, "at ease, please. We're here to see the port manager."

The attendant relaxed. "Of course. Master Braxx said to show you to his office as soon as you arrived." The three constables followed the young man up the six flights of steel stairs onto a metal deck outside the port manager's office. The man tapped on the reinforced glass window before opening the door. "Master Braxx," he cleared his throat, "the Enforcers have arrived."

Braxx was still sorting through the box of docking slips when the three officers entered his office. "I see that you are a little behind in your filing," Captain Lucian commented. "Perhaps my two officers can finish sorting out your records while the two of us have a chat."

Braxx looked up from his papers and sighed. Tossing the papers that were in his hands onto the desk, he stood up and crossed the floor. Holding out his hand, he smiled. "Where are my manners? Of course, I welcome the help. My name is Silas Braxx and you'd be?"

"Captain Remy Lucian. Is there somewhere we could go to get out of the way of my officers? Perhaps talk in private?"

Braxx opened a door that led to a back office full of file cabinets and old boxes. Braxx moved the boxes off two upholstered chairs before offering one to his guest. "What brings you to Groddy?" he asked as he sank into his chair.

"I was escorting the freighter Exodus back to Central Station when she bolted on us. I don't suppose you've seen her lately?"

"The Exodus?" Braxx wrinkled his brow. Shaking his head, he replied, "no, not a hair."

"Perhaps you've seen the Banshee?"

"If the Banshee had wandered into port half the ships here would have left. That Harbinger is scarier than you bluecoats by parsecs."

There was a knock on the door. "Enter," Captain Lucian responded.

"Sir, we've just received word that the Banshee has the crew of the Fancy Squirrel in her hold and is on her way here."

Captain Lucian nodded. "Thank you, Ensign. Let Captain Solara know that we will greet her when she arrives.” The ensign nodded. “You're dismissed," Captain Lucian waved toward the door.

"Well, I guess that solves your problem." Braxx wore a confident grin, certain that he could persuade his guests to leave. When the men returned to the outer office, they found that the constables had properly sorted and matched the docking slips to the transmission records. The constables had also made notes of the various ships that had made port since the last inspection.

"It certainly looks like our work is done here. Thank you for your time, Master Braxx." Captain Lucian shook the port manager's hand and followed his men out the door. As they boarded the shuttle, he asked what they had found.

"The ship we are after is the Suleiman. It's currently still docked here."

"Then we wait for it to leave."

"Sir, why did we tell them about the Harbinger?"

"Because most pirates consider us to be a nuisance. The Harbinger, on the other hand, scares the hell out of them. And her coming here should cause the Suleiman to bolt."

By the time Captain Lucian's shuttle returned to the CCS Sentinel, word had spread throughout the settlement and the crew of the Suleiman had made their way back to their ship. Captain Lucian waited until the Suleiman had set course before following. "Where are they going?" he wondered aloud.

"It looks like they are headed back toward the Exodus," the helm officer replied.

"That doesn't make any sense."

Captain Lucian ordered the helm to increase velocity to overtake the Suleiman before it could intercept the Exodus. He hailed the ship. “Suleiman, this is Captain Remy Lucian of the Constable Corps ship Sentinel. Reduce your velocity and prepare to receive a boarding party.” The captain of the Suleiman responded to Captain Lucian's demands by ignoring the hail and increasing their velocity. When the disobliging ship arrived at the crash site, the Exodus was gone – well on its way to Central Station with its cargo. The CCS Sentinel arrived at the moon a short time later.

The Suleiman was scanning the surface of the small moon looking for debris. “You’re wasting your time,” Captain Lucian messaged the smaller vessel. “By now, Captain Solara has offloaded the remains for examination by the Constable Corps and Trans-Galactic Indemnities. You can file a claim for the remains back at Central Station.”

“Where is this Central Station?” the captain of the Suleiman replied. “We are new to this region of space.”

“Obviously,” Captain Lucian muttered at the sight of the alien on his screen. “We’ll escort you there, Captain... do you have a name?”

“I am Skipper Spicebush. We will follow you.”

Captain Lucian nodded in reply, hoping he had not insulted the alien captain. After cutting off communication with the Suleiman, he ordered course set for Central Station. “Keep the shields charged and the weapons on standby.”

(4)

Captain Jens huddled with her crew after they had spent hours examining their quarters looking for a means of escape. Although there didn't seem to be a way out, Hippolyta was convinced that there had to be one, but they just couldn't see it. The plan was to fake an injury to draw the ship captain into the confinement area and force her to let them out. Once free, they would take over the ship. It seemed simple enough. It had worked for them in the past.

Hippolyta underestimated her host. As the crewmember lay on the floor of the confinement module, Solara scanned him remotely. Projecting an image of herself into the module, she scolded her passengers. "Nice try, Captain Jens. Unfortunately, you tried to fool the wrong person. You are aboard the freighter Exodus, inside a new secure holding module that I am transporting to Central Station. I've kept the Constable Corps waiting long enough for this delivery. Although they weren't expecting it to house prisoners until after its arrival."

"I thought you said that we weren't prisoners," Hippolyta charged the hologram only to find herself on the back end.

"You weren't at first. Then I discovered why your ship was unregistered. Possession of stolen property is a criminal offense in this region of space. I'm obligated to turn you over along with the evidence carried in a salvage module." With that, Solara snapped off the projector.

The Exodus arrived at Central Station without her official escort. Solara assured the Constable Corps that Captain Lucian had a good explanation for his lateness, which he would offer on his arrival.

Solara transferred the modular holding unit with its occupants to the section of Central Station which the Corps controlled. She then piloted the Exodus around to another section of the station owned by her employer, Trans-Galactic Indemnities.

Director Rale Moth had Solara’s initial report of the salvage open on his desktop when she arrived at his office. She smiled wanly and settled into an upholstered chair, crossed her ankles and leaned back. She stared at the ceiling while waiting for the inevitable string of questions. Moth said only one word, “Well?”

Solara uncrossed her ankles and sat upright. “At first, I intended to only recover samples, but everything about the crash seemed off. I scraped the surface and recovered all of the debris. After reviewing the recording of the crash, I made an effort to recover anything that might have strayed off course. My updated report should be available soon, if it isn’t already. Nothing and no one are what they seem.”

(5)

The room was fairly austere except for the large triangular table in the center. Each side accommodated three representatives of the parties with extra seating available for any witnesses that they might bring with them. Halbert Finney, Regional Manager for Trans-Galactic Indemnities, sat in the central seat. Sawyer Pine, Chief Constable, sat to his left while Violet Darner, TGI chief Claims Investigator, occupied the seat on his right. This trio would serve as the arbiters of any dispute that might arise.

Rale Moth, Director of Recovery Services for TGI, flanked by Solara Kydd and Captain Remy Lucian stood off to the side conversing in low whispers while waiting for the arrival of the other party. “They claim that the crew of the Fancy Squirrel stole an artifact from them and are demanding that we return it.”

Solara shook her head. “I thoroughly scanned the debris for anything out of the ordinary. I even conducted a physical search. I found nothing unusual.”

“Kydd,” Rale wasn’t usually this familiar, “are you absolutely certain that you didn’t miss anything?”

“Absolutely. I scanned everything. That’s how I found out it was the Flying Duck and not the Fancy Squirrel. We own the Duck having paid out on that policy. I’ve already notified the Constables of the yacht’s ownership and submitted a record of the evidence of its provenance. The Constables conducted their own scan as confirmation.”

The alien delegation arrived wearing environment suits. It was hard to discern their features through the dark screens over their faces. The bulk of the suits slowed their movement as they entered the room. Sitting at the table did not appear to be an option. Their commanding officer approached the table and introduced himself through the mechanical device attached to his suit. A robotic voice announced “I am Skipper Spicebush. I speak for the Eldritch Cartel. We seek recompense and the return of our property.”

“What property?” Rale Moth spoke after stepping forward to the table. Captain Lucian and Solara joined him standing at the table across from the aliens.

“We seek the ship that was stolen from us and the return of the criminals who took it.”

“Ah, there we have a problem.” Director Moth responded. “The ship was indeed stolen, but it belongs to Trans-Galactic,” he paused briefly and smiled, “or rather what is left of it does.”

“The criminals on board...”

“Are our problem,” Captain Lucian interrupted. “They were apprehended in our jurisdiction after having been discovered to be in possession of stolen property.”

“We demand that you give them to us,” Skipper Spicebush raised his right arm. His crew behind him raised theirs as well. Solara smiled at their violation of the weapons ban. It gave her license to act on behalf of her employer.

“You might want to reconsider your position. These beings have zero tolerance for slavery. As it is, you have admitted to piracy by demanding the return of a stolen vessel. I suggest you put away your weapons and leave before they impound your ship and place you under arrest. And if you insist on making that difficult, I could end your lives – painfully.” Solara delivered her message telepathically at a strength sufficient to convince the Eldritch to honor her request. When the Eldritch lowered their weapons for no apparent reason, Captain Lucian looked down at Solara’s bare feet and smiled.

 

Grey Space

 Elder Glennan was teaching astronomy to his fresh-faced class of eager young students. They hastily scribbled their notes onto their digital slates, making drawings of the various star clusters. One of the students pointed at a dimly lit area on the stellar chart floating in front of them. "Elder, what is in that grey area? It looks deliberately obscured."

 "That is because it is," the Elder answered. "It is a place that no one dares to go to. The few that have gone have never returned. The last transmission sent from there was a distress call from a ship that no one ever heard from again. Too many rescue ships have been lost there that we no longer bother to send any."

 "No one goes there then?" a ginger-haired squeaky-voiced male student sitting in the back of the classroom asked.

 "No one with any sense goes there, Young Dragan. Just the foolhardy who think that maybe they will be the ones to survive," the Elder replied.

Determined to know more about the Grey Space on the stellar maps, Dragan Aeris spent his spare time researching the ships and crews lost in the Grey Space. Most of what he found were unverified reports that seemed little more than rumors. The only verifiable report was a final log transmission referencing a port of call just outside the Grey Space.

***

 Carpathia, a small mining colony, had established itself as a trading outpost as well as a shipping port for its unrefined aluminum ore. Dragan found passage there on a freighter transporting food and supplies to the colony. To earn his keep, he took a job as a mechanic repairing the mining drones. It paid well enough for him to rent a small apartment close to the port and covered his daily meals.

 He spent his time off work exploring Carpathia and learning as much as he could about Bauxite Industries. The owner of Bauxite, who traced his family back to the Carpathian Mountain region on Earth, established the settlement. The company remained privately owned despite offers from other mining companies. Newcomers who were willing to work were always welcome at Carpathia. Tourists, less so.

 Dragan slowly earned enough trust from the old-timers to ask questions about the missing ships and their crews. Few were willing to waste their time answering his questions. One of the old men asked him to come take a close look at a star chart. Pointing to the Grey Space on the chart, he said, "Here there be monsters." Dragan could hear muffled laughter coming from the others in the room.

 "What kind of monsters?" Dragan dared to ask.

 "The kind that will eat you alive if you go there." His foreman replied. "You are too valuable as a drone mechanic for me to even allow you to entertain such a thought." Dragan hadn't noticed the man enter the room, but he took Stalker's words to heart. Dragan wouldn't go there, but his curiosity drove him to look for other ways to get the answers he wanted.

***

 Jawn Stalker was responsible for maintenance of the mining drones that would drill for and gather the ore in the nearby asteroid field. He thought he knew everyone that worked for him better than they knew themselves. When the message came down that an engineer from Aeris would be modifying one of the mining drones to explore beyond the known asteroid field for potential sources of ore, his jaw dropped. The engineer in question was Dragan Aeris.

 It had taken considerable time and money to build the long-range probe drone that Dragan would send into the Grey Space. Bauxite was interested in that area of space as well and saw to it that whatever parts Dragan needed, he received. He would have to arrange time on one of the remote-control units for the mining drones, but there was a lull coming up due to meeting ore quotas early. He would have to modify the unit to increase its range. It would need more fuel than the standard mining drone for its journey.

 Dragan settled into the chair of the remote station and flicked the power switch. The remote connected immediately to the drone. The drone floated momentarily in the bay after the hatch had opened. Dragan fired the drone's primary drive launching it out of the bay toward the mining asteroids. A few minutes later, he made a course correction and sent the drone catapulting toward Grey Space.

 Several hours later, the drone sent a ping back to the remote station to mark its distance from the border of Grey Space. Dragan began recording the drone's progress as it neared the mid-point of its journey. It took longer for the images to resolve as the drone flew farther from Carpathia.

***

 Seemingly abandoning his project, Dragan hitched a ride out of Carpathia on a freighter carrying ore to a refinery in his home system. From there, he travelled on a shuttle that ran between the refinery and the settlement of Sylvan. From Sylvan, he found passage on a produce transport headed for the Aeris Shipworks. He spent the lengthy voyage studying the data from the mining probe.

 Loaded inside the images the probe had sent back was data regarding mineral and ore content of the various large bodies that the probe had passed. Dragan filtered that information out to clean up the images recorded by the probe. The visual data revealed unexpected shifts in the stellar field ahead of the probe, but it had served its purpose by revealing the absence of a clear threat. Or so he hoped.

 Dragan spent some time visiting with his friends and family before moving on to Phase 2 of his plan to explore the Grey Space. His engineering and mechanical skill had all been part of his training to succeed his father as head of the largest shipbuilding corporation in the mapped universe, Aeris Ironworks, Inc. Part of his internship at Aeris involved designing and building a concept vehicle.

 Dragan named his concept the Aeris Stellar Explorer Drake. He had equipped the small ship with a modified P2P drive. Unlike the Point-to-point drive units used primarily by the military, his P2P drive took seconds to initiate transport instead of minutes. His Navigational Computer rivaled the military NavComs in computational accuracy. The Drake had two seats at the forward control deck and two passenger seats just behind them. Using P2P drive negated the need for sleeping quarters, but he included a small galley and a mess table in his design.

 Tanner Aeris was eager to show off her final project to her brother. She was leaning against the hull of the small interceptor when he arrived in the Aeris family's private docking bay. Dragan was surprised by her short hair and lack of freckles. There wasn't much opportunity for sun-bathing at the Astronautical Engineering Academy. It explained why he had missed her at dinner the evening before.

 Tanner stood up and ran to greet Dragan, throwing her arms around his neck and giving him a tight hug. "I've been waiting since forever," she complained. "What took you so long?" Dragan grabbed her shoulders and held her at arm's length. She was as tall as he was and had the same ginger hair and freckles that he did. "I see that you've redecorated," he joked, nodding toward the small ship parked beside the Drake. She grinned back at him. "That is the Aeris Bolt Fighter. Dad says that the military is interested in it, unlike your little toy over there."

"Don't underestimate my 'little toy'. I'm taking the Drake out. If you ask nicely, I'll let you ride shotgun." He pressed his palm against the side of the ship and a hatch suddenly appeared. Tanner's eyes widened. Her curiosity now piqued, she smiled sweetly. "Dear brother Dragan," she implored, "May I please come along with you on your joyride?"

 Tanner followed Dragan through the hatch and sat in what she presumed was the pilot seat. Dragan smiled as he sat next to her and placed his hand on the glass console. He slipped a short metal rod into a slot located below the console. A few minutes later a partial map of Grey Space appeared. “Is that where we are going?” Tanner asked.

 “Check the star field,” Dragan replied. “We are already there.”

 “How? You didn’t even open the bay door.”

 “Didn’t need to. That the nice thing about P2P drive. One minute you are here the next minute you are somewhere else.”

 “Speaking of here, where are we?”

 “Grey Space. Using navigation data from a probe sent there weeks ago. Don’t worry, we’re safe. No monsters detected.” Still, Dragan kept the shields raised and the AI on alert for unusual movement in the area.

The Armored Division

Thirteen large metal balls fell into the surf causing steam to rise as the cold ocean water cooled their exterior shells. The balls slowly rolled ashore onto the rocky beach, at some point unfurling like an armadillo and revealing the soldier within. At first glance, the soldier would appear to be a machine due to the mask covering the face and the metallic suit worn by the soldier. Deeming the atmosphere to be breathable, each of the thirteen removed their face plate long enough to purge their air supply of stale gases and refill the tanks inside their armor.

They climbed slowly up the embankment and stopped to survey the landscape. The leader of the squad turned to face his team. "This place looks very much like home, but it feels different somehow. Still, it shouldn't be hard to track the Demon with Two Hearts."

"Careful, there, Commander. I also have two hearts. Finding the fugitive and returning him to Gaia is not going to be easy. He has been terrorizing innocent worlds. Your troops are the finest trackers, but we have ways to disguise our true selves from others. We cannot hide from our own kind. That is why I am here." The speaker had removed her helmet. Her amber eyes had closed to narrow slits in the ultraviolet glare radiating beneath the grey sky.

"Quite right, Wisteria. There are none finer than the Armored Division of the Gaian Defense Corps. Still, our armor seems to be a burden on these rocks. There appears to be a cavern nearby where we can store them. Keep your sidearms, men. But keep them hidden. We don't want to scare the locals."

Wisteria let the Gaian troops help her shed her armor. She was relieved to be free of it, but it had carried her through the Great Tear. The Gaian Commander had not questioned the coordinates that he had been given, and she hoped that he wouldn't. Her true mission had nothing to do with capturing a fugitive. It was her own escape that she had planned and that meant sacrificing her status quo for an uncertain future.

Commander Galen kept a watchful eye on Wisteria. He didn't entirely trust the Visitant. They had a history of meddling in the affairs of others. This fact made it easier to accept that Wisteria was indeed chasing one of her own for causing great mischief on innocent worlds. But perhaps, she had another reason for her strange path to this distant and unusual world.

The Visitants had abandoned their home and their population had dwindled to the point where the Galactic League had declared them an endangered species. Although Wisteria had been raised on Gaia, she was still adept in the Visitant ways. And she longed for her freedom from the constant oversight of the Gaian bodyguards. She had one advantage on this expedition. Unlike the Gaian troops, she was not tethered to the travel spheres. All she had to do was exceed their reach and everything, troops included, would return to Gaia.

There was no "Demon with Two Hearts", but it served to create a mission urgent enough to allow her some input in where to look for this mythical monster. Wisteria preferred to think of herself as a Ranger, but her freedom of movement was sorely hampered by beings that knew little of what she was. She wondered at times what they made of her pale blue skin, her lack of hair, and her azure eyes that looked much like those of the felines on Gaia. She marveled at the variety of skin, hair, and eye colors among the Gaian people.

The group marched for the better part of the day hoping to encounter signs of civilization. As the planet's star began to drop below the horizon, the Commander ordered an encampment near a stand of trees. A portion of survival rations sufficed for the evening meal before everyone settled in for the night. Galen kept a watchful eye on Wisteria until she fell asleep, then bedded down for the duration.

A strange growl emanating from the bushes woke Wisteria. She peered into the dark stand of trees. The creature was rather small for a feline, but it was hissing at her by the time she was close enough to see it clearly. She hissed back. The feline seemed confused at first then fled into the woods. She spent the rest of the night scanning the bushes for other creatures that might be a threat.

Commander Galen was surprised to find Wisteria still at the campsite. "I thought you'd be long gone by now."

"I couldn't leave. Something woke me, a small feline, but it ran off. I stayed up in case it returned. But it gave me time to think."

"And?"

"It's time to go back through the rift. I don't want to be more alone than I already am and that is what I would be if I ran away. Maybe we could find more of my kind somewhere? I'd feel less like an artifact."

"Isn't that why we are here?"

"I lied. I thought I wanted to escape, to run away. But I really want contact with someone like me and I won't find that here."

Commander Galen laughed. "But that is exactly what you will find here. Did you really think that I would allow you to risk my team on some strange world? This world is where your people have been settled. Your original home was lost over time. We found a new one for your people. It's time for you to join them."

The Strand

Alabaster woke at the crack of dusk, that moment when the sunlight warming where she slept began to recede from the depths of the cave and the air began to cool. She slowly dragged herself outward as the sun's rays faded. It was near the end of the day, and they would soon arrive bringing their offerings. Not everything would be to her liking, but she accepted all of it as gracefully as she could manage.

She could not remember how long it had been since landing on this strange shore. Her memories of home were starting to fade. She had grown old among strange creatures who revered her almost as much as they feared her. Once in a while a small group would brave the darkness of her lair to poke and prod her. They measured her temperature at various orifices. The sampled her body fluid and attempted to ascertain her mass. Somehow that seemed long overdue, as if they had lost interest in her. And quite frankly, she had grown quite tired of having her sleep interrupted by the ordeal.

The Rook

Thomas Raven had just finished his education and has time to explore the world before his apprenticeship. The young mage went down to the local seaport and took up residence at the Gull & Pearl. Many a sailor came to the public house to have their fill of ale and whatever stew was in the pots for the night. It was there that Thomas learned of the Rook. It had once been part of a castle on a mountainside midway between two kingdoms, but the castle had long since fallen into ruin. A dense forest surrounded the remains of the castle, a single rook. A narrow road cut through the forest passing by the rook.

Thomas was intrigued by the mystery of the Host who would put up travelers for the night. There were few who had braved the woods at dusk and fewer still who had accepted the generosity of the host. Of those who had stopped, their accounts of the host's appearance varied considerably. An old man described a comely young maiden who tended to his aching bones and helped him into bed for the evening. A young man described an old woman who reminded him of his recently passed grandmother. The young man spoke of how she fussed over him in much the same manner. A woman with several unruly children spoke of the gruff matron who frightened her rowdy offspring into being quiet and still for the evening by threatening to "feed them to the dragon" if they continued to misbehave. "Whatever your needs, the Host will attend."

In the morning, Thomas secured passage across the Great Sea to a fishing village in the Low Kingdom. There he spent a day in another alehouse, the Mermaid's Tail, where he heard more stories about the Rook and its mysterious host. A small band of travelers intended to leave in the early morning hours with plans to spend the night at the Rook. Before their parents hustled the children off to bed, the innkeeper gathered them by the fireplace to tell them a story.

"Once upon a time," the owner of the Mermaid's Tail Inn began, "there was a grand castle that stood on the hillside halfway between the High Kingdom and the Low Kingdom. It stood for several thousand years as a waystation welcoming travelers and offering them a safe haven for the night. This was a time when terrible beasts roamed the land. One could often hear the howling of a banshee, the screeching of a gryphon, or the roaring of a fierce dragon during the night if one stayed at the castle. 

There are many stories of how the castle fell into ruin. Some tell tales of a terrible war between the High and Low Kingdoms with the castle caught in the middle. This war subjected the castle to constant bombardment until the walls fell. Some tell of a long siege by barbarians which killed off the people who lived there. A few claim that the castle inhabitants merely abandoned it during a harsh drought or a fierce blizzard. Others tell of a mighty dragon seeking vengeance against the lord of the manor. No one knows what the true story is anymore. Little remains of the once mighty fortress, but a few fragments of wall and a single tower looked after by a single caretaker.

A path through the forest passes by the rook and many a traveler has spent the night there. Stories of the generosity of the host have spread far and wide, and many visitors travel the forest just to spend a single night at the rook. Perhaps we have such a traveler among us this night." The old man winked at Thomas who had gathered with the children. "Remember," the old man continued, "it is very important not to break the rules of the Rook or the host will ban you for life, leaving you to the beasts that roam the forest at night."

Other travelers at the inn added their own experiences to the story. "I saw a comely maiden, barely a woman when I passed through there last," an old man muttered. "Nonsense!" a young man replied, "she was a wizened old woman who reminded me of my granny." Thomas, the young mage, listened intently to the various descriptions of the host. Her hair ranged from golden silk to silvery gray. Her eyes from dark pools to bright blue. Her lips as pale as her skin or a ruddy red that more than matched the rosy apples of her cheeks. Eventually the tales dwindled, but Thomas was already set to follow the caravan. The travelers were soon off to bed to prepare for their early morning start on their trek up to the High Kingdom.

On the way up the mountain, the travelers began to sing a Low Kingdom hymn praising the Lord of the Manor. Thomas learned the words well enough to join in. He did not understand the need for the song until they approached the Lord's stronghold. The archers at the top of the castle ramparts lowered their arrows and allowed the group safe passage. After they had safely passed by the walls of the Low Kingdom's castle and gone farther up the hill, they stopped singing. A few hours along, they stopped for a rest. There was more talk of what to expect when they arrived at the rook. A few hours further along, they stopped for lunch and gave the children time to run and play.

The small caravan of travelers stayed quiet once they had entered the forest. As the light of day began to fade, they arrived at the base of the tower and waited. It was not long before their host appeared and introduced herself as Drake. Thomas wondered what the others saw when they looked at her. She appeared as a woman about his age with Thomas hair and green eyes. Although her skin was pale, her lips and cheeks were ruddy. It was an enticingly beautiful veil that he would take the time to pierce later.

A short stout furry man who called himself Bolt, safely tucked the wagons and horses away in a nearby stable. After the travelers left the stable, Bolt barred the thick wooden doors with heavy wooden beams securing the stable for the night. The host led the guests around a short stone wall to the entrance to the tower and waited for all of them to enter before bolting the door with a heavy metal bar. She gestured for them to sit at the table and offered each guest a bowl of stew and a chunk of bread. In spite of demands for seconds, she never seemed to run out of either.

Drake led the travelers up the circular stairs offering the first level to a small family whose mother was with child. They continued the climb until all the guests settled into their rooms. Thomas was the last to receive a room, one near the top of the tower. He settled in, closing the shutters against the night air, and lighting a small fire in the fireplace. He was too excited to sleep and spent the time reading. Once he was certain the everyone in the tower was asleep, he would appease his curiosity.

As midnight approached, Thomas made his way down the spiral stair to find the host. Upon arrival he saw a small dragon curled up asleep in the middle of the room on the large circular table where he had supped earlier. A few moments later, a man came down the stairs. "Shh," Thomas warned, "Let's not wake our host."

"But I need something from her," the man protested.

"What, pray tell?"

"My wife is with child and bothered by the chill air. I came for an extra blanket."

Before Thomas could take a step, the dragon had pointed a claw at a cupboard not far from the bottom of the stairs. Thomas quietly strode to the cupboard and retrieved a blanket. Before he could leave, he noticed that the dragon had two fingers extended and drew out a second blanket. He gave the blankets to the man, who thanked him before heading back upstairs to his quarters. Thomas turned back around to find a young woman standing where the dragon had been. Drake smiled at him before stepping off the table and crossing to the stairs. "I need to secure the tower. There is something unnatural in the air tonight and I must protect my guests." She pointed toward the ceiling, “Lavender will guard the door.” The hovering dragon slowly settled on the floor and put on her most menacing face. Thomas burst out laughing before regaining his composure.

“I’m sorry, I thought you and the dragon were one.” Lavender huffed in response. Drake laughed.

“It’s time to secure the castle. I need to alert the others, although they may have sensed it already.”

 

 

Daywalker: After the Fall

Officer Grey Walker was given the choice of administrative duty or paid leave. He chose to take time off while the disciplinary board investigated the incident at the old City Standard building. After a visit with an old friend, he learned that he had been the victim of an imp's prank and was likely being stalked by the imp.

Grey sat in the corner of the coffee shop reading a copy of the local paper when Lucas Marshall joined him. "You're not supposed to talk to me," Grey cautioned.

"I'm not supposed to talk to you about the incident, but nothing says we can't discuss the weather," Lucas countered.

"It's still a bad idea," Grey shook the newspaper and raised it in front of his face. "Have they interviewed you, yet?"

"That's why I'm here. They already have my statement, so I figured there was no reason to keep avoiding you."

Grey lowered the newspaper. "How's the rookie working out?"

"She's smart. I was worried she couldn't keep up, but she's more than a match at times." Lucas ordered a cup of coffee. "What have you been doing in your time off?"

"Playing cat and mouse with an imp. She keeps showing up everywhere I go. Duncan says that she has attached herself to me. I'm beginning to wonder if she's real or if there is something seriously wrong with me. I managed to get an appointment for a brain scan. It wasn't all that hard to talk the department shrink into ordering it."

"What if they find nothing wrong?"

"What if they find something wrong? I'm too young to die. Seriously, either way, my career is over."

The four-person disciplinary board sat at a long table. Grey sat in a chair opposite wearing his uniform. They had spent the better part of an hour passing papers and chatting among themselves. Finally, the Chief of Police spoke up. "Officer Walker, we have read your report on the incident at the City Standard building. We have also interviewed your partner and other officers present at the scene. The crowd that you spoke of in your report consisted of a few individuals who worked in the building across the street. Every one of them contradicts your account. In light of this, would you like to alter your statement?"

Grey stood up to address the board. "I do not wish to amend my statement. In fact, I have decided to resign as a police officer. There are extenuating circumstances that inhibit my ability to be effective as such." Grey placed his shield and his service weapon on the table before leaving the room.

As Grey walked down the hallway toward the elevator, he spotted his stalker following him when he turned a corner. She had been following him all week, but every time that he turned to confront her, she disappeared. He was beginning to question his sanity. He had devised a plan to draw her out, to force her to come to him. He was counting on her not wanting to lose the object of her affection.

Grey took his time cleaning out his locker, leaving behind those few objects that he carried that were city property. Several of his colleagues took time to pat him on the back, wish him well, and tell him how much he would be missed. He knew that in a week or so, most of those officers would have forgotten him. He was hoping to avoid his former partner. Lucas and he were fierce competitors at the academy but became fast friends after being paired upon completion of field training.

Lucas was worried about Grey, who seemed quieter than normal. He followed Grey to the City Standard building and watched him make his way back to the roof. The building had been prepped for implosion. The windows and doors had been removed and any useful fixtures. The only thing barring entry was a locked chain link fence with barbed wire strung along the top. Lucas watched as Grey tore open a section of the fence before entering the building. He followed Grey up to the roof.

Grey went to the back of the building where an empty parking lot stood between two abandoned buildings. He stood there looking down, waiting for something. Lucas was about to intervene when she appeared, suspended in the air. Suddenly, Grey ran to the edge of the roof and jumped. Lucas sprinted to the roof edge and looked down to see Grey and the woman arrive safely at the bottom. Grey grabbed the woman tightly. "Take us back to the roof," he demanded, "or I will break something." A few seconds later they were back on the rooftop. "Lucas, come meet our mystery woman." He turned to the young woman, "tell me your name."

"Am... Amber...gris," she stammered.

"Ambergris?" Lucas asked, "What kind of parents name a child after whale vomit?"

"Imps," Grey smiled. "Only creatures lonelier than nightwalkers."

Amber struggled against Grey's grip on her arm. "Let me go," she demanded, but her influence failed to get her released. "I'll make your friend walk off the roof." she threatened.

"You do and I'll break your neck," Grey countered.

Amber pouted for a few minutes, then asked politely, "Please, let me go."

"That's better," Grey replied. "But only if you promise to stop following me."

"I can't do that," Amber said, "But I can get you your job back."

"If I'm stuck with you, I'm better off without it." Grey released the imp then turned to Lucas, "You can stop worrying about me. I'll be around. I promise."

Daywalker: Under a Bridge

Beneath the Hill-to-hill bridge, a homeless camp had taken root. Most of the homeless were new arrivals in the city. Among them, about half were Extranormals and few of them trusted law enforcement. Grey Walker drove his SUV down the narrow-paved road that bordered the river until he arrived a few yards short of the overpass. He had come looking for an old friend, hoping to get some information on someone who may very well have cost him his career.

Grey was aware of the dangers of walking into a camp like this. He had left anything of value locked in his SUV. The key dangled around his neck on a chain. As he neared the camp, he tucked the key inside his shirt. Most of these people were honest, but he had been working in law enforcement long enough to guard against those who weren't. At the edge of the bridge's shadow, a large figure stepped forward to block his way. "Move out of my way, troll, or I will move you." The troll's laughter was cut short when Grey kicked him on the side of his head. By the time the troll recovered, Grey was on the other side of him still being trailed by the pickpocket who hadn't had the chance to ply his trade.

As the small pale hand reached into Grey's pocket, Grey grabbed the waif by its wrist. "Lucky for you, I'm on leave or I'd be slapping a pair of cuffs on you." The waif tried to pull itself free, but Grey had a tight grip. "I'm looking for a friend. I heard he was hanging out down here helping people. His name is Duncan. Any idea where I might find him?" The waif pointed up the slope toward the top of the bridge. "Thanks," Grey said as he released the waif and started up the hill.

The shade beneath the bridge grew darker with each step upward. Grey's eyes gradually adjusted allowing him to focus on his old friend. Duncan had changed little over the years, but he was twice as wide as Grey remembered and completely devoid of hair anywhere on his head. Duncan was smiling and busy clearing space for Grey as he approached. Grey sat where he was instructed, on the ogre's knee, and laughed as he bumped his head on the bottom of the bridge. "What brings you here?" Duncan asked being careful not to let his voice boom in the confined space.

"Yesterday, I was attempting to rescue a possible jumper from a building. Just as I grab hold, she pulled us both over the edge. When I landed, she was gone, vanished on the way down. The only person who remembers her is my partner who was on the roof with me at the time. I can't make any sense of it. I was hoping that you could help me."

"That's a lot to unpack, but I think I can help. I just need to ask a few questions. Before the fall, had other people seen this jumper?"

"Yes. She had caused a traffic jam from all the gawkers blocking the street."

"When you grabbed her, did she grab you back?"

Grey paused for a moment. "Yes, she grabbed my wrist before leaning backwards over the ledge. I thought that I had a good footing, but it didn't seem to matter."

"I think your jumper was an imp. They are strong as oxen, can vanish and appear at will, and can sense things about people even after they have left. They can also influence people making them forget things."

"Like being on top of a building all morning?"

"Exactly."

"But my partner wasn't affected."

"Are you sure that's really your partner?"

"I'm not sure I know what you mean..."

"Imps can influence what you see, what you remember, and sometimes how you feel. They are mostly solitary creatures, but once they make contact, especially physical contact, they become attached to the person."

Grey came looking for answers and walked away with more questions. As he pulled away in his SUV, he thought he saw the woman from the ledge looking down at him from the bridge. She was smiling.

Daywalker: Out on a Ledge

In the early morning hours, as people were coming to work at the building across the street from the old City Standard building, a small figure appeared perched on the rooftop ledge. The nine-story building was scheduled for demolition in the coming weeks and had been securely padlocked to prevent entry. Which made it all the more puzzling how the young woman pacing along the rooftop ledge got there. At first, no one noticed. But gradually, a crowd started to gather to watch her occasionally teeter on, but not fall from, the rooftop. By midday, the crowd of onlookers had filled the street below blocking traffic. This was the complaint that police officers Grey Walker and Lucas Marshall were responding to when they arrived on the scene.

Several other units had already responded to the call and were busy redirecting traffic around the area. Grey and Lucas had to park on a side street a block away from the crowd and walk in to where they had gathered. All of their faces were raised to the sky and many of them had their hands clasped as in prayer. "Are they waiting to be raptured?" Lucas joked.

Grey glanced up to see what they were looking at. "Dispatch, we need a fire rescue team and a Crisis Intervention officer at the old City Standard building. There's a woman on the roof ledge." Turning to Lucas, "we need to get this crowd out of the street. Any ideas?"

The arrival of the Fire Rescue truck was enough to move most of the crowd onto a sidewalk. Lucas and Grey started to herd the people standing on the City Standard side to the opposite sidewalk. Once the area was clear, the firefighters set up an air mattress in front of the building. The Crisis Intervention officer notified Grey that he would be delayed. The woman had been up there for several hours, and the crowd was reluctant to disperse.

"Lucas, I need you to hold the fort."

"What have you got planned, partner?"

"I'm going up there to talk her down."

Grey headed down an alley toward the back of the building. Every door and window at street level had been boarded up and padlocked. The lower portion of a fire escape had been removed making it out of reach for a normal person. But Grey wasn't a normal person. Lucas came running down the alley in time to see Grey leap into the air and grab the third-floor railing of the fire escape. "Seriously?" Lucas yelled up at Grey. "You couldn't wait to give me a boost?"

Grey pulled himself up and over the railing onto the landing. He looked down at Lucas and smiled. "Bring the car into the alley. I'll wait for you." Lucas stared for a moment before shrugging his shoulders and running off for the unit. True to his word, Grey had waited for Lucas to pull the car into the alley. Grey was hanging upside down from the third-floor deck of the fire escape. "Grab the emergency chain ladder and toss it up to me. I'll hook it on for you."

After climbing to the rooftop, the two officers separated with Lucas acting as a distraction trying to talk her down from the ledge while Grey crept up on her and pulled her to safety. At least that was the plan. Grey moved slowly at first being as quiet as possible while Lucas spoke to her. "Hello," he shouted. "My name is Lucas. What's your name?" She didn't answer, but she did turn to face him. "Oh, good. You can hear me." He took a step toward her. "What's your name?" he asked again. She turned her face back to the crowd below and extended her arms. Concerned that she was about to jump, Grey rushed toward her and grabbed and arm. As he attempted to pull her back onto the roof, she twisted her body. Grey was surprised by her sudden move and was pulled off the roof as she fell backward away from the building.

Several minutes later, Grey landed on the air cushion that fire rescue had deployed. The crowd that had gathered slowly dispersed. And Grey was being read the riot act for his "stunt". The young woman who had stood on the roof ledge had disappeared during the fall. No one at street level remembered her, despite having watched her a good part of the morning. Grey was afraid to ask Lucas about her, but it wasn't necessary. "It was weird," Lucas commented. "Halfway down the building she just disappeared, like she had never been there."

"You remember her?"

"There was something creepy about her, makes her hard to forget."

Daywalker: Inside the Freak House

Delivering a prisoner to Special Lockup always made Officer Grey Walker uncomfortable. Most Normals wouldn't enter the place. Officer Lucas Marshall opted to remain in the car while Grey took the prisoner inside. Grey signed in with his palm print before escorting the shifter to his holding cell. He unlocked the specialized handcuffs and shoved the man inside the virtually escape proof cell. The cell door latched shut as soon as Grey was clear. Grey stood for a moment to watch the prisoner test the confines of his cell. The prisoner could pull his disappearing act all he wanted. Grey made sure that the cell was marked as occupied. On the way out, he informed the office that he had just locked up a shapeshifter for attempted robbery.

Back inside the car, Lucas sighed with relief. "What was that for?" Grey asked.

"Oh, you know, I'm always afraid that you'll go in there and they won't let you leave." Lucas laughed nervously.

"Me, too, partner. Me, too," Grey muttered.

As they drove away, Grey remembered the one time that he had been locked up there. He had just turned sixteen and his schoolmates had managed to get their hands on a case of beer. It was his first time out drinking with his schoolmates and they cheerfully passed him a fresh can every time he finished the last one. When he needed to pee, he chose to relieve himself on a nearby car that was blocking the alley. It wouldn't have been so bad, except the police car was occupied at the time. He probably would have outrun the officer chasing him if he hadn't been certifiably drunk. The officer didn't know that Grey was a daywalker at the time. He took Grey to the Special Lockup with the intention of scaring him straight. It worked.

Grey shared a cell with other drunk Extranormals, one of which was a belligerent troll, who was half as broad as he was tall and covered with a thick coat of brown hair. The breath of a troll is bad enough, but when combined with alcohol, it becomes absolutely foul. Most of the other cellmates kept their distance from the troll. But the beast had cornered Grey and was looking for a fight. That was the day Grey discovered that he was more than a fast runner.

Deciding that he couldn't take any more of the troll's foul breath, Grey raised his feet off the floor and kicked the troll in the belly. The beast was sent sliding on his ass clear across the cell. The troll picked itself up off the floor and charged at Grey, who dodged the creature's fists as they hit the cell wall. Before the troll could gather its wits for the next attack, both it and Grey were tasered by the guards.

Grey woke up in a cell opposite that of the troll. Both had been sentenced to another night in Special Lockup because of their fight. The cells in which they were locked were secured with both self-latching and deadbolt lock mechanisms. The bars were barely two inches apart making it nearly impossible to pass an arm through. Instead of iron, still a standard in Normal jails, the bars securing the prisoners and the bed frame were made of heavy steel.

Grey and the troll stared at each other for several minutes before the troll broke out in laughter. "What's so funny?" Grey shouted at the troll.

"I got my ass kicked by a mere boy. That don't happen often," the troll smiled. "You got a name, boy?" he asked. "Mine's Duncan Riddle."

"I thought trolls didn't give out their names," Grey replied.

"You've been reading too many fairy tales, kid," Duncan laughed. "C'mon, I know you got a name."

"It's Grey," Grey replied. "Grey Walker."

"Well, Grey Walker, I'm pleased to meet you. What did you do to get in here, Grey Walker?" They talked for hours. It was the beginning of a long friendship and the only time that Grey was locked up in the Freak House.

As the two police officers pulled away from the Special Lockup, a call came through requesting their assistance at an abandoned building scheduled for demolition.

Daywalker: Down a Blind Alley

Officer Grey Walker chased the robbery suspect for six city blocks before finally cornering him in a blind alley. Or at least he thought so until he arrived at the dead end to discover that the suspect had mysteriously vanished. He could hear his partner arriving behind him, out of breath, and sweating profusely from the hard running he had done to finally catch up with Grey. 

Officer Lucas Marshall was in peak physical condition. He ran marathons in near record time and had been a sprinter in both high school and college. But he couldn't keep up with Grey, who was faster and stronger than any other man on the force. It annoyed him because Grey didn't work out. But Lucas knew that he was lucky to have him as a partner. Resting his hands on his knees, Lucas looked up at Grey. "How in the hell did you manage to lose him?"

"Good question," Grey replied looking up for any fire escapes that the suspect might have used. Turning around, he noticed that Lucas was standing on a metal grate. "Maybe he went down, as there is no way he could have gone up and there's nowhere to hide in the alley itself."

Lucas bent down and examined the grating. "I don't see how. This grate is bolted in place."

"Let me have a look at it," Grey said as he approached.

Lucas backed off the grating. "Knock yourself out, partner."

Grey worked his fingers around the iron grate and gave it a gentle tug. It didn't budge. When he pulled his hand out, he noticed a small coating of slime stuck to his fingers. He stood up and wiped it off on his pant leg. "Next time, Lucas, follow in the car. It's a long walk back to where we parked it."

Lucas shrugged. "Well, I expected you to have run him down sooner. Never expected him to get away from you." Both officers started the long walk back to their vehicle parked at the convenience store six blocks away.

As they turned the corner exiting the alley, Grey stopped and grabbed Lucas by the arm. "I'm going back down that alley. I want you to go get the car and come back with it. I have a hunch about where the suspect is hiding and if I'm right, we'll need the car to take him in." Lucas deliberated for a moment before agreeing, then took off at a light jog back to the car.

Grey stepped back into the middle of the alleyway and started a slow walk toward the dead-end. He closed his eyes and listened to the echoes of his footfalls. As he neared the end of the alley, he could hear the rapid heartbeat of a cornered animal. He sniffed at the air and encountered an unusual scent wafting off a nearby wall. Something or someone had tried to sneak past Grey. Before it could move further out of the alley, Grey reached out with his hand and grasped it firmly by its neck. When he opened his eyes, the nearly invisible captive struggled for a few minutes before finally conceding defeat. Grey lowered the boy to the ground and released his grip.

"The dude you were chasing," the boy stammered. "He just oozed down the sewer grate." Keeping his eyes to the ground, the boy asked, "What did the slimebag do?"

"Held up a convenience store, or at least he tried to before my partner and I showed up."

"What were you doing in the alley?" 

"Hanging out," the boy replied. 

Grey grabbed the kid by the chin and stared into his eyes. "Have you ever seen him before?"

"No," the kid answered without hesitation. "And you know I ain't lyin', 'cause I'd be a fool to lie to a vamp."

Grey smiled. "Relax, kid, I don't bite. Sounds like my partner just arrived with our ride."

"You takin' me in?"

"Of course, I am. You didn't think I was stupid enough to fall for that story about the grating, did you?" Grey grabbed the kid before he could run away, shoved him face first against the nearest wall and handcuffed him. Grey shoved the shapeshifter into the back of the vehicle. He took a seat next to his partner. "We're taking this one to special lockup."

"The Freak House?" Lucas asked as he glanced back at the passenger. "What's so special about this one?"

"He can't decide what to wear," Grey replied smiling.