The census came in the form of a large shadow cast over the southern half of town early one morning. Terry’s step-father eyed its source uneasily through the kitchen window: a massive zeppelin propelled by two large, humming propellers. Terry imagined most of the Great War vets were having the same reaction to it. From their experience, the only purpose of these behemoths was to rain death from above.
To Terry, however, it actually looked benevolent. The whole balloon structure was covered in bright blue paint, brightly reflecting the light of the current sun. The only thing remotely unnerving about it was Skyfleet’s coiled, eastern dragon insignia plastered on the side. Though even that, having a bright white color with silver edges, didn’t seem too bad.
The zeppelin positioned itself over town square. Then, it began unloading cargo and personnel via a square lift that dropped from the bottom of its passenger and cargo compartment.
From there, the federal government pretty much took over town hall for their uses. Being a frontier town, its small, hundred year old, one story self probably wasn’t much to them, but they didn’t seem to mind. In fact, the government workers, from what Terry had seen, were friendly and in high spirits. The town welcomed them with open arms as a result, especially the small businesses eager for the out of town income.
They were also putting money into the working class’s pockets, as Terry noted when he saw a training session a number of locals were attending for the census. They were gathered at the largest table in the small coffee shop across from town hall, paperwork and coffee mugs scattered all over it. He overheard a little about what they were talking about as he ordered his morning brew.
“Remember, this is the first census in Silver Republic history,” their apparent leader said, a small dwarf woman with a strangely attractive beard. “Probably gonna be its most important, too. We are officially a welfare state now, and in order for that to function properly, we have to know what’s going on in all four corners, population numbers being the biggest. Yes, we have most of the paperwork from the old nation-states and dwarf holds, but most of the former was inaccurate even before the Great War. As I’m sure many of you know, the Founding Four nations didn’t exactly believe in funding their governments.”
“Sept when it came to guns," one of the new hires said. He was one of Terry’s step-father’s veteran friends, and his patched eye was all one needed to see to gauge his experience in the Great War. "Got money for war but can't feed the poor."
“That doesn’t even make sense in context, Jed,” another responded.
A third person shook her head. “I dunno. It sort of does if you think about it.”
The ‘leader’ chuckled. “That’s right. The census will help make sure government resources go to where they’re most needed. Including, for instance, how much to subsidize local farms. Or, in some cases even, how much food needs to be in Skyfleet aid drops. If anyone gives you trouble in the field, that’s a big thing to let them know.”
Terry grabbed his coffee as the training session went on. He wasn’t necessarily uninterested in the census, but right now he had bigger fish to fry.
As he made his way out of the shop, he paused as another newcomer to the town flagged him down. He was an older, dark-skinned gentleman wearing the black robes of the cloth: Father Sunny.
Terry had seen him around before. He had been in town for months now, staying at the small Foundationalogy church. According to Terry’s mother, who grew up in the faith, he was a traveling guest speaker of sorts, helping the local pastor, Father Green, give insights into the wider world.
Terry had found him nice enough, occasionally exchanging ‘good mornings’ and the usual niceties with him. He was casual enough that he actually liked just being called ‘Sunny’. Terry had heard he was quite curious, though: asking a lot of questions about the town’s history, up to and including about the former inhabitants. Terry supposed it was just him trying to take an interest in his temporary ‘flock’, though he did find it a bit odd.
“Mornin’, child,” the preacher said, his accent similar to those from the southern lands.
“Morning, Sunny,” Terry replied.
Sunny glanced at the table the census workers sat at, his expression neutral. “Looks like the g-men are here in force, huh? And makin’ friends.”
“Yeah, looks like it,” Terry nodded, taking a sip of his coffee.
“Wonder if some of em’ were here before,” Sunny said.
Terry raised an eyebrow. “Huh?”
“Heard there were some suited fellas pokin’ round a few years back,” Sunny said. “Odd bunch, from what folks say. Thought they might be government. Did you happen to see em’?”
Terry did recall hearing about several curious travelers in town around that time. Men wearing black suits with fedora-style hats. Like Sunny, they had been questioning the town folks about this and that, though apparently in a more sinister and forceful manner.
Terry never found out about what it was about. He wasn’t really in the mood for local gossip back then.
“No, I never ran into them,” Terry said, shaking his head. “Was… kind of being a shut in at the time.”
“Nothin’ to be ashamed about,” Sunny said soothingly, placing a bony hand on Terry’s shoulder. “We all need time to ourselves occasionally.”
“True enough,” Terry said tersely, before glancing anxiously at the town hall. He didn’t mind talking with Sunny, but he wanted to get things over with before he lost his nerve. “Sorry, don’t mean to be rude, but I gotta–”
“No problem, child,” Sunny nodded, removing his hand. “What is it you kids say these days? ‘Catch you on the flip side?’”
Terry gave him an awkward look.
“Damn, I butchered the hell outa that, didn’t I?” Sunny laughed. “I should probably just stick to ‘Builder be with you.’”
“I wasn’t going to say anything,” Terry chuckled. “But yeah, see ya!”
With that, he made his way through the double doors of town hall, and he couldn’t help but raise his eyebrows on what was inside.
The lobby of it had been turned into what could basically be described as a government outreach project. There were booths for everything: from one taking civic complaints (run by a young man who looked like he was about to laugh and cry at the same time), army and maritime navy recruitment (which were currently deserted), to finally…
“Hey, want a mint?”
Terry turned away from the origin of the voice. He actually still wanted to face it, but now he had the option of twirling about dramatically, staring that origin in the eyes, narrowing his own, and growling, “Benny.”
None other than Terry’s old friend turned foe was sitting behind the Skyfleet recruitment booth. He looked almost the same as when Terry last saw him, though with his brown hair cut shorter. Oddly, he didn’t seem to have any type of uniform on. When it came to Benny, Terry wasn’t even sure if he was breaking the rules or not.
“That’s me,” Benny said in his infuriatingly nonchalant tone. As he spoke, he stood up from his seat and waved the tin can of mints in front of Terry’s face.
“What are you doing here?” Terry grunted, pushing the can away.
“Needed extra credit at the academy,” Benny shrugged, placing the mints down before sitting back down himself. The small chair could barely accommodate his naturally large frame. “So doing this recruitment thing.”
“You?” Terry laughed. “Extra credit? Come on.”
“Yo, why you so salty?” Benny asked.
“Oh, I don’t know,” Terry snapped. “Does last year’s Homecoming ring any bells?”
“It was just a prank, bro,” Benny sighed. “You gotta learn to get over things, seriously.”
He paused for a second, looking away from Terry.
“Though… Homecoming isn’t the real reason, is it?”
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
He gazed back at Terry, and the two stared at each other for a moment. Terry with continued annoyance at the man, and Benny with his indifferent, blank expression. Finally, Benny broke through the silence.
“So, how we doin'?” he asked.
“Fine,” Terry grumbled. “How are things in Skyfleet? Your folks said you were really liking it.”
“Yeah, it’s pretty cool,” he said, sitting back in his seat.
There were another few seconds of awkward staring.
“In… what way?” Terry prodded.
“I mean, I dunno,” Benny shrugged. “I still haven’t gotten a ship assignment or anything.”
“Really selling this to me, Benny,” Terry sighed. “Truly, the recruitment ads have nothing on you.”
Benny immediately perked up at that. “Wait, you trying to join?”
“I was,” Terry said.
“Why, though?” Benny said. “I thought you were gonna do music stuff. Remember that banger you played at Homecoming?”
Terry shot him a death glare. Here Benny was bringing up that incident again in under five minutes. He truly hadn’t grown up at all, it seemed.
Benny didn’t even seem to think he had said anything wrong, since he quickly continued with, “Your singing wasn’t that bad, and you really knew how to play the piani. Guitar too, kinda.”
“Piano, and I don’t wanna talk about that with you,” Terry grunted. “Can you just tell me where I need to sign?”
Benny raised an eyebrow, before pulling out a stack of paperwork from beneath his booth and plopping it atop. “You mean just on the first page or…?”
“Oh Builder, help me,” Terry groaned.
It took Terry almost all afternoon to finish the sign-up process. Skyfleet seemed to want to know everything about him, from his ancestry to his medical history. A lot of it made sense, he supposed, though some of it, such as whether or not he had any adverse reaction to the rising of the Fallen Stars was just bizarre.
One he was unsure about was whether or not he had acrophobia, a fear of heights. The highest place he had ever been was a three story thrift mall in Bloomfield, and that was about it. He would just have to cross his fingers and hope that he wouldn’t be affected.
The only other thing that really stumped him was the section on what role he actually wanted in the organization. He hadn’t given it much thought beforehand. He sort of figured that that would be chosen for him. After all, that’s how it worked for his step-father in the Great War’s militaries. That didn’t seem to be the case for them, though.
It didn’t help that there were so many options, either. There were some careers that were to be expected, of course, like helmsman or engineer, and others he never would have considered like zilgling radio liaison and cosignius crystal balancer. Terry didn’t even know what kind of crystal that was, and he didn’t want to have to spend any more time with Benny by asking him, either; assuming he would have even gotten a straight answer in the first place, of course.
So Terry simply took the ‘haven’t decided’ option. He would have all summer to make up his mind, after all.
“Almost finished,” Benny said as they inched towards the bottom of the stack. “Just need to see your social security card.”
Terry glanced across the current piece of paper he was on, then back at Benny, blankly. “I don’t see where to write that down.”
“No, no, I mean I just need to see it,” Benny said. “You know, for a second.”
Terry rolled his eyes. “Shut up, Benny.”
“Yo, want a mint?”
“Shut up, Benny!”
Terry rushed through the rest of the paperwork, eager to get away from Benny. After only a few moments later he had signed the last dotted line.
With a deep breath, Terry pushed out his chair and stood up. “Well, it was… it was something seeing you again, Benny. Just not sure what. I’ll see you at the academy.”
“Yup,” Benny nodded. “See you.”
After that curt goodbye, Terry left his annoying former friend to his own devices. Yet despite all the ill feelings, Terry was still in high spirits. He had taken the first step in his life’s biggest journey, and there was no turning back now. All he could hope for was that Benny wouldn’t misplace the paperwork, intentionally or unintentionally. He supposed it depended on whether or not Benny had learned the boundaries on what an appropriate prank was.
Fortunately, his fears were quelled just two weeks later when he received a letter in the mail.
Skyfleet had accepted his application.
Both he and his mother were overjoyed at it. Her initial skepticism of the decision had melted away after she had read up on Skyfleet more. The massive info packet Terry had picked up at the recruitment booth certainly helped.
“This is going to be amazing for you, sweetheart, I know it!” she told him, placing his acceptance letter next to the information package on the table. “There are so many career opportunities. Look, they even have a bunch of music options! You need to look at the Orchestra of Lights. It says they’ve already played twice for President Mizzy herself! And the lifetime benefits you get, too…”
“Mmm, hope the Aunt Silva isn’t writing checks she can’t cash there,” his step-father grumbled, sulking in the corner of the room. “Brettan Army said we’d be set for life, too. Lied. Even when they got absorbed into the Silver Republic, you know how hard we had to fight to get just decent healthcare? Three thousand men spending three months camping out the People’s Tower in Axis Mundi. Told us it was cus of ‘resource shortages’. Hah, resource shortages my ass. Only shortage at that time was common decency.”
“Yes, Harry, we all know about the Bonus Boys,” his mother said, waving her hand dismissively as she looked over the info packet again. “Heard the story a thousand times.”
“Rude,” his step-father grunted.
“How they treated you was awful, for real, pa,” Terry nodded, earning a grateful look back from his step-father. “But like I’ve been saying, I don’t think Skyfleet is like that.” He then smiled slyly. “Though if they are, you’ve already shown us how to force their hand.”
His step-father returned the smile, before sauntering over towards the table. “You’re a good kid, Terry. I really hope you don’t gotta go through what we did. To be honest, after talking with g-men all month, the new leadership does seem to be on the level. Guess I’m a little jealous that you’ll be in better hands than I was.” He then cleared his throat. “Anyway, any idea what you wanna do? You’ve got the options for music.”
“Mmm, kind of,” Terry said. “It says I’d need to do ‘essential’ work for two years before I can do that. Doesn’t bother me too much. I was kind of hoping to actually be on a skyship for a little while. And I’m talking about an actual one, not just a zeppelin.”
He pointed towards one of the pictures in the packet. In it, floating above a grassy field was an object too impossibly large to be in flight. And to top it off, it did it with no visible means of loft. It truly was as if a maritime vessel had been taken from the sea and flung into the air, though it had some key differences in its shape: more rectangular and boxy looking, and slanted towards the front to make it more aerodynamic.
Terry had never seen anything like it in the real world. Zeppelins were an amazing sight in themselves, but they weren’t quite as magical or imposing. Their balloon super-structures gave away how they stayed in the air right away, while these were a complete mystery. He could only guess they had to do with the ‘cosignius crystals’ he had been hearing about.
And here he might have the opportunity to actually fly on one.
“Compliments of the dwarf holds,” his step-father said with approval.
“Huh?” Terry said.
“Skyships weren’t even on the drawing board until the dwarves joined up,” his step-father continued, before shaking his head. “By the Builder I’m glad they never got involved in the Great War. If they could come up with something like these in peace-time, imagine what could happen if they got pissed off?”
Terry shuddered at that, a flashback of his repressed nightmare from months back leaping into his skull for a faction of a second.
“Y-Yeah,” Terry gulped. “Who knows what could be made?”
“Oh, like the dwarves would ever hurt anyone,” his mother scoffed. “The census worker who came by the other day was a dwarf and she was just the sweetest thing! The whole thing about them being a bunch of cranks is nothing but tabaxi.”
“You’ve never beat one at a drinking contest before,” his step-father said.
“Have you?” Terry asked.
His step-father coughed slightly. “Well, no, but if I did, I’d probably regret it!”
Terry and his mother shared a laugh at that, his step-father joining in at the tail-end of it. He never seemed to like laughing at his own jokes until he was sure they were actually funny. After the group had settled down, his mother spoke up again:
“I saw a few zilglings in town, too,” his mother said.
“Yep,” his step-father said. “They were with Skyfleet, I think.”
“Oh, yeah!” his mother chirped, looking towards Terry enthusiastically. “They had cute little uniforms on and everything! Worker drones, maybe?”
“Literally,” his step-father nodded. “They had toolkits strapped on them. Probably going to do maintenance on the power relay.” He then smirked his wife’s way. “First time I’ve heard them be called cute, though.”
“They’re just big ants,” she shrugged. “Not spiders. If they were spiders this probably would have never worked out. But ant things? As long as they stay friendly, I could get used to them. Heck, I think I even heard them singing something! Good pitch, too!”
“All I know is they were kind of a menace during the Great War,” his step-father said. “The green ones - can’t remember their name - had a habit of sneaking into artillery camps at night and clogging up the guns. Used some kind of nasty-ass goop stronger than any glue.”
Terry’s eyes widened in horror. “Wait, does that mean they went, ya know, boom, when someone tried to shoot em’?”
His step-father shook his head. “Naw, there were fail-safes that kept it happening. Still didn’t make anyone happy, though. Honestly, I feel like the only reason we didn’t start hunting them was cus they did it to both sides. We didn’t know they were intelligent back then so we just thought it was some sort of weird instinct, but now… kind of wonder what they were up to.”
Terry shrugged. He had learned about the zilglings at school a little, but never about that particular aspect of them.
“Just…” his step-father said warily, looking towards Terry. “Maybe don’t mess with em’ when you get into Skyfleet, okay?”
“Sure, pap,” Terry chuckled. “Doubt I’ll have much to do with em’, anyway.”