The motto engraved across the front of the Æthereal Ænforcement Ægency read Enforce Order Care. This confused most people who stopped to read it. Some believed it was a promise to both enforce order and care, while others argued that, despite the grammatical lack of direct objects, the motto presented three separate directives: enforce, order, and care. The seldom-remembered truth was that the word “care” was added at a much later date as part of a rebranding strategy, following a series of embarrassing and extremely fatal investigative blunders. It was met with fierce resistance, despite being the only measure adopted from the 76 recommendations proposed. Ultimately, however, the change did little to alter the widely acknowledged reality that the only thing most officers at the Ægency truly cared about was enforcing order.

Av’enna remembered the change. She opposed it then, and she opposed it now. She did not think it was a good idea to soften the Ægency’s image. The veneer of order that gave structure to the Backend was already stretched so thin that it could break at any moment. It was easy to say that the Ægency should be gentler, but that was a consideration you only had time for when you weren’t out there trying to give law to the lawless. It was the kind of thinking she had given up long ago.

The lower levels of the Junction only reinforced what Av’enna believed. They were chaotic and dangerous. The surface was tolerable, but as soon as you dipped below, the city revealed itself as the stagnant swamp it truly was. She could not get her bearings down here. Everything looked the same: dingy and cluttered.

After learning about Marigold’s predictable deception, Av’enna hurried back to the apartment, only to discover it empty. She and other officer she had called down spent the subsequent hour canvassing the area to little effect. The creatures that might’ve seen something wouldn’t talk, and the creatures that would talk hadn’t seen anything. Some knew of a frog living nearby, but most seemed surprised to learn she was a Caretaker. Nobody had seen her with a human. The very suggestion provoked gasps.

After several fruitless conversation, Av’enna went to meet up with Pete, who was finishing up his own pointless conversations. He sauntered over to her and shook his head. Without a word, Av’enna pushed off the wall she was leaning against and walked with him back out into the streets. She had called Pete in on his day off because he knew the Lower Junction better than most. He knew most places better than most. He had been around forever and was still refusing to retire, something about wanting to add to an already considerable pension.

“How do you think they did it?” Pete asked.

“Subjects and objects, Pete. How do I think who did what?”

“How did the Caretaker send you a fake radio transmission?”

It was an interesting question, but ultimately pointless, typical of Pete. He was always focusing on the unimportant details and missing the bigger picture. That’s why she outranked him, despite spending a fraction of his time in action.

“It’s not important. It won’t get us closer to the human.”

“It will if there’s someone on the inside helping them, or if they have some way of interrupting our transmissions.”

“What’s important now is finding out where they were heading. Let’s try the building across the street.”

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“Come on, it won’t make any difference. They’re gone,” Pete said.

“We don’t know that.”

Pete looked at his watch. He pushed his glasses further up his snout. “It’ll have to wait. It’s break time.”

“What do you mean, break time?”

“Union regulations. I’ll go radio the others.”

“In the time you take for your break, they could escape the Junction altogether.”

Pete shrugged. “I don’t make the rules. I just make sure they’re enforced.”

Pete may have had his uses, but he was proof of another truth that Av’enna had long known: the biggest threat to the Backend was not the cataclysms they were routinely called on to quell, it was apathy, indifference, and above all, a generous helping of incompetence.

*

They were sitting at an outdoor cafe in the middle of a dilapidated market, where residents scurried about to waste what little money they had on things they did not need. Erika, Mai, and Enoch had already grabbed seats by the time Av’enna and Pete arrived. Then there was the normal half hour of prattle before Pete decided to draw Av’enna into the conversation by actually discussing something of relevance.

“So, why do you hate the Caretaker?” he asked.

“I don’t hate her. We used to be friends.”

“You used to have friends?” Pete said.

Av’enna rolled her eyes.

“It was a long time ago,” she said. She swirled the remains of the coffee in her cup.

“So, what happened?”

“Nothing happened. We grew up and grew apart.”

The others continued to look at her. Clearly, this would not be good enough.

“You know who she is, don’t you?” Av’enna asked.

“A Caretaker, right?” Erika asked.

“Not just any Caretaker. When her father retires, she’ll be the Caretaker.”

This impressed Erika, Mai, and Enoch, but Pete was unfazed.

“So, you hate her because she’s rich and important,” he said.

“I don’t hate her, Pete. Look, when we were at school together, she used to promise that she would never become like her father. We promised each other we would make something better of this place.”

“And?”

“And let’s change the subject. It’s not relevant.”

“Yes, sir,” Pete said, holding up his hand in a mock salute before returning to his coffee.

There was another call over the radio. A real one this time. They had intercepted a call from a guard down in the Old Administrative Quarters. He had reached out to some demon at the Bureau. The wiretap unit picked up a call over the Bureau’s private phone network and explained that he had spotted a frog and a human making their way down toward the Archive. This was everything that Av’enna needed to know. She ordered a unit be sent over to the Bureau to question the demon and ended the call.

“Who was that?” Pete asked.

Av’enna explained the call.

Pete considered the information carefully. “Why would your friend take a human to the Archive? Even if it wasn’t forbidden, it’s a dead end.”

“Well, Marigold always thinks she knows better than everyone else. I expect that’s the case now. The human was due to be processed, so she must think that’s a bad idea,” Av’enna said.

Now it was Mai’s turn to jump into the conversation. “So, maybe she has a hiding place somewhere.”

It was a possibility. Av’enna liked Mai. She was sharp and confident, not like Enoch and Erika, who just sat there waiting for the more senior officers to order them around.

“At the bottom of the Core?” Av’enna said. “I doubt it.”

“There’s an old way down from there, you know,” Pete said from behind his coffee cup. He took a sip and smiled smugly over at Av’enna.

“What do you mean? Down where?”

“Down, down. The forest, the Hollows, the Old Road. Most people don’t know about it now, but there’s a way down through the Archive. Could be your friend went that way. Could be that your friend is looking to escape the Core completely.”

After a long moment of silence, Av’enna exploded out of her chair.

“Alright then, you heard Pete everyone. Back to work,” she snapped.

Mai and Erika stood up to join her. After some hesitation, Enoch did as well. Only Pete remained sitting. He looked up at her and tapped his watch. “Five minutes,” he said, taking a rebellious sip of coffee.

Av’enna wondered if there was any way to expedite Pete’s retirement. She reached into her pocket and slammed some money down on the counter.

“File a complaint with the union,” she said.