DARK ROADS
“Hello, darkness, my friend,” Gary Locke whispers, half prayer and half plea.
He turns on the lights to his chambers and steps inside. His shoulders heave and slump, as he forces himself to relax. He creeps from room to room, turning on every light, reassuring himself there are no attackers on his home turf.
Returning to the kitchen, Gary pulls a beer bottle out of the fridge, cracks it open, and takes a long swig. You’re gonna end up giving yourself an aneurysm if you don’t learn to accept the reason for the Complex, he reminds himself.
“It’s not my fault,” he says out loud. “I’m surrounded by those I called the enemy a year ago.”
When he reaches the living room, Gary takes off the black button-up shirt with UAS emblazoned on the right shoulder. Uni Ama Security, the PI firm he works for, provides these uniforms to its personnel. After a moment’s consideration, he takes off his white T-shirt and gun belt, dropping them on the floor. Muscle ripples under taut, tanned skin as he lands with a thud on his couch.
“R-Toc, TV on, channel thirty-four. Set temperature up to seventy-seven degrees,” he calls to his apartment AI.
A screen on the far white wall hums to life, and a human newscaster from planet Raxu emerges from the static. Gary stares at the television, but the stories being reported don’t matter. Seeing the cities he fought for still standing calms his senses.
Absently scratching his right arm, he feels the roughness of the scar running on his forearm, and looks down at it. During the war with the Metas on Raxu, Gary fought an array of demons. Many of the protections Humans had at their disposal to use against them were runes drawn in human blood. Figuring out he would need to use his own blood while on the move didn’t take long.
Several runes are displayed on the front door of his apartment. Some have begun seeping into the white paint and need retouching. Gary reaches into his pants to grab his pocket knife, when a beep goes off in his right hand.
“Who is it, R-Toc?”
A soothing, robotic voice replies, “Climintra Master Sergeant Temera Wiles is attempting contact, Gary. Shall I set up holographic capabilities?”
“Yeah. Go ahead, R-Toc.”
Invisible beams digitize a 3-D model of Gary’s boss three feet from his position. The tall, black woman has a stern but beautiful face. Her uniform is on, still sharp, and her eyes take in everything without being obvious. Gary fought with her on Raxu and couldn’t have asked for a better leader in the bowels of hell. Now she’s a big muckety-muck at Climintra headquarters and oversees PI units Uni Ama Security here at the Complex. She’s the reason Gary has this gig, and, considering his condition, he thanks the hell out of her for it.
“Hey, Suge, looks like you were thinking of resting up a bit. Afraid that’s not in the cards for you.” Temera smiles.
“I clocked out for the day, Master Sergeant.” Gary holds up his beer. “I’ve been drinking. Can’t this wait till mornin’?”
“No. We’ve got a one-seven-one-nine red. You’re the only one I trust with it. Details are already sent. Get on it now.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Don’t give me any of your infamous lip, Sergeant. Wiles, out.”
The digitized model disappears, leaving Gary to his work. He throws his clothes and gun belt back on, then hurries over to his computer and pulls up the information the Master Sergeant sent him. It’s a Code Red—high level, important persons involved.
Reading through the files, Gary learns who the important person is and nearly drops his beer: Princess Amarie Vanyarin, the Elven ambassador here in the Complex. Two threats have been leveled against her—one written, one video. The person calling for her protection is Prince Erihstoll Habbernock, Fairy Prince and also an ambassador in the Complex. According to the files, the two are scheduled to be married in four months.
Gary takes a moment to watch the short video. On the screen, a black-hooded figure points at the camera, making sure the viewer can see brown fur and razor-like claws distinctly in the low light. The voice coming from beneath the hood is raspy and jagged, as though Seldova Com, or regular English as Humans know it, is not a language often used by the speaker.
“Prince Erihstoll Habbernock, Ambassador of the Complex, betrothed of Princess Amarie Vanyarin, listen well. All know you shall receive guaranteed kingship of the Fairies upon marrying. I vow to you, should you bind yourself to her, both of you shall die. Princess Amarie Vanyarin, your efforts to create peace with the Human filth has marked you as a prized target. The Complex cannot save you. Humans cannot save you. Peace cannot save you. Death comes for you, girl. It cannot be stopped.”
The video ends, and an imperceptible tremor cuts up Gary’s spine. Princess Amarie Vanyarin is one of only a handful of Metas speaking in favor of Humans. Most Metas still want us sent out of the Seldova System, if they want to see us alive at all. Even after the truce, extermination squads still roam the three Meta planets in this system. If Vanyarin dies, there is a good chance the other spokesmen will be cowed into silence . . . or outright rejection of an entire species will occur.
Gary smacks the microchip hidden in his right hand. “Call Master Sergeant.”
Temera Wiles’ hologram appears a few seconds later. “So, you all caught up, Suge?”
“Oh yeah. I’m going to need a kit, Temera. The whole deal.”
Temera’s eyes widen and her mouth drops open. “You know that’s not permissible in the Complex, Gary. Even Climintra are allowed only—”
“Do you want her to stay alive or not, Temera? I’ve only got so much blood to put into runes, and there’s a half-dozen demons alone that aren’t bound to it. Add the fact that they may not send demons at all, and that’s a lot of weaponry I don’t have. She will die without a kit, and you know it.”
Temera nods. “You have a point. I’ll see if I can get a full kit teleported here. Ama Seldova won’t like it, but now the politicians need to worry about one of their own. Be careful, Suge. Looks like the Complex is gonna be a wash.”
“Not yet, Temera. We’ve got a dark road in front of us though. The two of us managed to cross the last one.”
“Too true. Get on over to Princess Vanyarin’s home. She’s housed in the jungle biome. She’s going to need you, Sergeant. Wiles, out.”