Private Emil Balan took a deep breath again of night air, wishing it had been dialed just a shade colder this evening. His hopes for an easy evening weren’t likely to be realized, and his night shift wouldn’t likely end until a good half-hour after the sun rose.
Balan liked being on the private security detail- the pay was better than starting out with the gendarmes, and Gareth was a better boss to have than Chief Inspector Kai. Gareth tended to stay up in his tower rather than inspecting his men. And the tower, still secure in its place behind Balan, wasn’t likely to need Balan’s help to be defended any time soon. His sturdy, one-man bunker was more than adequate to hold the line against those who would try to force their way into the doors of the lift behind him, and try to enter the anteroom to the Galantine unauthorized.
So, the detail here could be boring at times, true. But at least there wasn’t the stress his friends had to deal with. The hardest part of being here, Balan had to admit, was staying awake once the chrono started reading into the small hours of the night.
Still, a tablet kept him alert most nights. The occasional inspection by others on the Morgan payroll helped time pass faster on other occasions. Not much to keep in fighting trim out here, so there wasn’t much needed to do even if Lord Morgan himself walked across the large field or landed in a ‘horse or a personal aircar.
That was why it was so unusual when Balan saw the figure emerge from a landed ‘horse a good quarter mile away, and start walking towards him.
It took a good fifteen minutes for the person to be within speaking distance, but Balan felt it was as good a moment as any to make his presence known.
“May I be of assistance?” Balan said as he emerged from the small, trim bunker/office at the door of the lift.
Dallas Morgan, heir to the Galatine, smiled wide.
Carrying a cloth sack over his shoulder, Balan noted, already writing the Incident Report in his head, bladeless sword hilt magged to his belt.
“Absolutely!” the person said, smiling. Even with the field lights, in the darkness it was difficult to see his face fully. And the roar of the engines made it difficult to hear or easily place his voice, though it did sound familiar.
Male, caucasian, short brown hair, disarming smile. Caution advised… It had been Balan’s unfortunate experience that those who wanted to be his friend quickly usually had an ulterior motive in mind.
“Absolutely,” the fellow said. He was a shade older than Balan, who’d just celebrated his nineteenth birthday. “I’m here to inspect my family’s Mech. What’s the procedure to pass through?”
“Pro-procedure?”
“Yes, my most excellent guard! Here’s my identification…” Dallas held up his wrist and touched a button on his bracelet. A blue hologram of Dallas’ face appeared, along with steaming lines of text giving Dallas’ birthday, age, education, place of residence…suddenly, a few flashing line of red text began to file underneath Dallas’ picture and Dallas snapped the pic shut immediately.
“Whoops!” Dallas said. “Sorry, that was, ah, private family business. Now, about that inspection?”
“Um- well, ah- I have to…”
“Of course, of course you need to clear it! But you see…what’s your name again?”
“Balan. Private Balan, of Morgan Private Security De-”
“Yes, oh, great! I - wait, did you say Balan? You’re Balan? That Balan?”
“Um- I don’t think there’s any other…”
“Well, this is an unexpected honor, sir! I’ve been hearing a lot of very good things about you from my Pater, Lord Texas Morgan!”
“You- Lord Morgan mentioned me?”
“Yes sir, Private Balan! He’s been very impressed with you for a while now! That’s part of the reason he sent me here, didn’t you know?”
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“Um- nosir.”
“Well, Private Balan, I'm sorry you didn’t get that eMemo,” Dallas said, putting his arm around the younger man’s shoulders and steering him towards the bunker, “but that’s just the kind of thing my Pater wants me to tighten up around here. You see-” Dallas looked around at the empty lot - “you see, your commander, the fellow at the top floor, up there?”
“Commander Gareth?”
“Yes! Him. I knew him when I was a little boy, but between you, me and the dome, Gareth’s been having some…” look around again, “some trouble in his personal life.”
“Commander Gareth?”
“Yes! Hard to believe, isn;t it?”
“But- he’s always on time. He always nods to me when he comes on shift, and he’s never late!”
“Well, that’s good to hear! I’m glad I can report that part of things hasn’t fallen apart yet. Look, Balan, I can tell you like the old guy as much as I do. He fought alongside my Pater when the Corporates attacked- did you know that?”
“Yessir! They told us about it in school, sir!”
“And well they should have! Well, I can’t give details, but I’m here to do a surprise inspection of his office. If it’s in disarray, then we can leverage him to get the help he needs. Makes sense?”
“Well, I guess it does- what’s the next step, then?”
“I just need you to authorize me to go up there, without checking with Gareth first. If he’s doing great, then we have no issues and keep doing as we’ve been doing. If he’s, ah,” Dallas mimicked tipping a bottle towards his open mouth a few times, “then he’ll get the help he needs to keep this position. But, in the meantime, we’d need someone we could trust to fill his shoes.”
“Do you mean…my folks’d be so proud!”
“Absolutely! Well, now, I don’t have that kind of authority, of course. But I would have a good reason to recommend you to my Pater. And, like I said, he’s already talked about you so many times!”
“Are you sure about that?”
“Absolutely! ‘Oh, Dallas!,’ he’ll say to me at the dinner table,” Dallas paused to look at Balan’s feet, “Dallas, you forgot to polish your boots again! Why can;t you be like Private Balan? Every time I check on him at the lift doors of the Galatine, his boots are shined to perfection! Dallas, why aren’t you on time for our function? Private Balan hasn’t been clocked in late for six months or more!”
“Well, and I thought no one noticed!” Balan said, so excited that he didn’t notice that the revving engines of the ‘horses and transports had stopped in the distance, or that his terminal was frantically flashing red lights that were lighting up the interior of his one-man bunker.
Dallas saw, though, through the window. He took him arm off the private’s shoulders, now standing in front of Balan. Making sure Balan’s back was to the bunker, Dallas put both his hands on Balan’s shoulders and looked the younger man in the eyes with the sincerity of a priest to his parishioner in the confessional.
“Well, Balan my man, they do! Or at least my Pater does! And If you’ll just punch whatever button you need to push on your tablet [no, don’t go into your bunker- Gareth wil see], to get me up there without warning Gareth first, you’ll see just how appreciative my pater can be…”
#
“He’s not here, Sir.”
Speaking while driving his aircar [the last of his gendarmes who called it a ‘horse’ ended up directing drone traffic for a week], Chief inspector Kai looked at the frightened expression of his subordinate on his wristcom and thought about ripping his face off. Thinking better of it, as he always did, he kept his quiet and passive as he asked his next question. “What, exactly do you mean by that, Sergeant?”
“He’s not here at the Port, sir. I have men at literally every gate, we’ve checked every office, desk and bathroom there is. None of my men have reported seeing him, sir. Unless he’s hiding in a piece of luggage, he is not inside the confines if this building.”
Kai was about to give his next spiel, when the port itself came into view.
And, standing sentinel over the port, was the Galatine.
“He couldn’t…” mumbled Kai, “could he?”
“Sir?”
“Send a small squad to the Galatine. His transport dropped him off there, and unless Lord Morgan’s son is engaging in a very surreptitious walk in the very early morning hours, he is in this area. Is that clear, Sergeant?”
“Yes, sir.”
Kai clicked off and changed course from the landing pad to the well-lit robotic figure that had been a well-lit cultural fixture for the entire city for over a generation. I sincerely hope you aren’t going to do what I think you’re going to do, young Dallas, he thought heavily. Or the consequences for you, me, and a whole lot of people are going to get very, very severe.