Nina arrived at the museum just as it was opening, her trunk in one hand and her notebook in her front coat pocket. She rang the buzzer on Linesley’s office door with purpose, and when it opened, the professor didn’t look at all surprised to see her.

“I see you’ve come fully-prepared,” he said, nodding at her trunk as he welcomed her inside. “So, I suppose there’s no need to ask if you’re still sure?”

“None at all,” she replied. “I’m ready to go.”

“Very well, but before you do, we have a few things to discuss.”

“Of course,” she said, taking a seat on the couch, ready to give the professor her full attention. “Let’s get started.”

They spoke for several hours at length about the details of the project, what had already been collected, and what was still needed. Linesley provided her with a collection of notebooks to record her research and a schedule on which to make her field reports.

“The small things are important too,” he said. “Don’t think we just want the general facts on government and industry. Remember to speak with the people.”

Then they talked about Linesley’s colleagues.

“I’ve made a list of their travel routes for you,” he said, indicating the map he’d drawn on. “If you want you can try and meet up with them in their last known location and exchange data. I also want to hear from you at every stop along your way.”

“Do you want to me send those updates with the Post as well?”

“Actually, I’ve got something better,” he replied getting up. The professor reached into a draw of his desk and pulled out what appeared to be a slightly bigger than palm-sized mirror bordered in a kind of purple metal. “Given the circumstances, the uh, importance of the project, the board of directors agreed to allocate some more resources to our department. So I commissioned a pair of these communicators.” he said. “It can transmit text through speech and record still images in colour. It’s really quite amazing what arcane technology is capable of these days.”

“How do they work?” she asked, immediately curious.

The professor ran his thumb over the surface of the mirror and it shimmered like he'd dragged it across the still surface of a pond. Arcane symbols appeared in the wake of the ripples, quickly morphing into letters just big enough for her to make out.

‘Submit Message,’ the words said.

“Testing,” said Linesley clearly. “Testing connection.”

The words appeared one by one as he spoke them, then another mirror that she hadn’t noticed before, lit up on the desk. Linesley picked it up and handed it to her. The back of the mirror was bowl-shaped, and she suspected it contained the crystal that provided the device its power. The words the professor had spoken were glowing brightly on its surface.

“That’s amazing!”

“I expect you to contact me every day.”

“Of course,” she promised, stowing the mirror in her coat pocket. “I won’t let you worry about me.”

“I trust you, I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t.”

A knock on the door interrupted their conversation.

“Ah, there’s one more thing as well,” said the professor excitedly, as he got up to answer it.

A young man was waiting in the doorway, and entered at the professor’s request. He wore a wide-brimmed leather hat on top of brown hair with a scraggly fringe. He had a stubbled chin, and clenched an unlit cigarette between his teeth. His green eyes were unusually vibrant, but he had tired circles under them. He had no travel gear with him, only a small leather hip pouch strapped to his belt, next to a holster carrying a large, dark, wood-accented handgun.

“I felt a bit uncomfortable letting someone with no previous experience wander off into the world on their own,” said Linesley. “Risk here has many years’ experience with survival skills and traveling in all climates. He’ll be your guide and travel expert on your trip.

“There’s no need to worry, he’s from a mercenary guild with a very trustworthy reputation. His morals are above reproach.”

“You’re sure about that?” she asked, looking the scrappy mercenary up and down. He looked more like some street thug than any kind of professional escort.

“Don’t worry princess,” said the mercenary. “I wouldn’t fuck you if you were the last sheila on earth.”

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“Well now I just feel so reassured.”

“Now, now,” said the professor. “There’s no need for such things. We’re all adults, and we’ve got jobs to do.”

“Yes of course,” she said, inclining her head to Risk. “I apologise for my behaviour. My life is in your hands, Mr. Risk.”

The bodyguard seemed taken aback. “Yeah, ah, just Risk is fine,” he said, nervously tugging the brim of his hat down.

“So,” said Linesley clapping his hands. “You’re all packed, so I assume you’re ready to go immediately?”

“Oh yes,” she said. “I am more than ready to hit the seas.”

“Seas?”

Nina pulled her notebook out of her pocket and flipped it open. “Even back when my plan was just a holiday, it was never my intention to just blindly wander the continents. With a job to do, I think it’s even more important that I take a structured path and leave no stone unturned.”

“I thought I was supposed to be the guide.”

“I came in the top percentiles in cultural studies,” she said. “What do you think made me want to travel so much in the first place?”

“What’s your plan, then?”

“Nyuesi,” she said. “The eastern continent is rich in history and culture. There are few humans there other than tourists, so there should be lots of new information to document.”

“Very well,” said Linesley. “When you arrive, you should start by asking for Professor Khetari. She went east for her part of the project; she’d be a good one to catch up with, if you can. I’ll call ahead and get you some tickets on the first ship I can find heading east.”

“I’ll send you a message as soon as we arrive.”

“See that you do,” replied Linesley. He hesitated, before taking Nina’s hands in his. “I’m so glad you decided to do this, I’m really grateful…”

“Don’t be,” she said. “This is something I want to do, for me as well as anyone else. My future starts here, and I’m going to grab it with both hands.”

With that, she took up her trunk, and strode out of the professor’s office, her bodyguard at her heels.

Nina and Risk rode in a small private carriage down to the docks. As they road, she busied herself with the files the professor had provided her, reading through them in greater detail. It was intimidating to be following in the footsteps of such well-established explorers. Risk sat next to her, watching the world go by out the window.

When they’d met in the professor’s office, she had assumed the bodyguard had left his things out in the hall, or downstairs with the receptionist but when they went out to catch their carriage, he’d got in with nothing but the clothes on his back. Even Nina had her school trunk.

“You sure you’re not going to take any luggage? I’m happy to make a stop somewhere if you need to pick something up.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, waving a dismissive hand. “I got everything I need. I travel all the time for work. I can’t be luggin’ massive suitcases around with me.”

“Well as long as you’re sure,” she said, then smiled. “It must be nice to have the chance to go on a vacation like this for your work.”

“Isn’t this your job too? Should you be thinking of this as a holiday?”

“It’s true that I will have a lot of work to do on this trip,” she agreed. “But I’ve been thinking about traveling like this for the past five years of my life, and I almost very nearly had to give it up.”

“Parents not pleased?”

“You have no idea,” she said, running her fingers over her family ring.

Risk followed her gaze and frowned. “You might want to hide that, by the way.”

“What, this?” she asked raising her hand. “This is my family ring and—”

“I don’t care what it is,” he said bluntly. “It’s a big chunk of silver that screams ‘I’m wealthy, please rob me.’ I’m responsible for your safety and I’m telling you to put it away.”

She’d worn it for less than a day, but she read the sad truth in Risk’s words. It would hurt not to be able to wear it, but hurt far worse to have it stolen. With a sigh, she slid the ring off her thumb and stowed it away in a secure compartment of her trunk. The carriage was silent for the remainder of the trip, both passengers staring out their respective windows, lost in their own thoughts.

At the crest of the last hill, Nina could see the expanse of the ocean spreading out in every direction, surrounding the cape head that held Pheras’ busiest port. Ships from all across the world were docked here, from luxury cruise ships, to tiny fishing vessels, taking and leaving passengers and goods of every kind, from every place you could imagine.

Trade ships from all corners were anchored here, with stalls hawking the latest imports and treasures from across the continents: fine silks and fresh spices from Nyuesi, exotic fruits and animals from Guraan in the south-west, and the newest fashions in clothes and furniture from the Crystal City. If you could reach it by water, you could find its wares at Port Pheras Royal.

At the security gates, Nina showed her passport, and Risk his guild ID, which had the same authority. The handwritten note from the professor directed them to Dock 12 in the Old Port.

Risk’s eyes narrowed. “Wouldn’t trust boats out of the old port,” he said, as they walked the creaking boards of the ancient jetty. “Everyone decent uses the new side.”

“I’m sure it was all he could get on such short notice.”

“Well don’t complain to me if you get abducted by pirates and sold off in some eastern brothel.”

“Isn’t that why you’re here? To make sure that doesn’t happen.”

“Can’t make no promises. Not when you’re dealing with faces like these.”

He jerked his head at the boat they’d just passed. It was an old wooden vessel, held together, it seemed, by scrap patching and a prayer. A stack of loudly-screeching iron cages sat on the jetty, next to a couple of rickety tables laden with a mismatch of oddities. About half a dozen burly men were milling around the deck and gangway of the boat, loading and unloading more cages and crates of who-knows-what. For such a suspicious outfit, their boat seemed to have quite a few customers.

“Smugglers,” he noted, not bothering to keep his voice down. “With Nyani pups by the sounds of what’s in those cages. Fashionable exotic pets for the super wealthy. You’re looking at five hundred to a thousand gold crowns each, minimum.”

“And the guards are just blind, then, are they? Smuggling is still illegal the last time I checked.”

“Pftt, no one cares in the old port,” he said. “Besides, most of the jetties and warehouses down this way are owned by the kinds of people who’d rather the guards not come around.”

“Great,” she said, sarcasm dripping from her tone.

“And this is where your boss saw fit to get us a ride east,” he said with a grin. “You sure he’s not trying to secretly sell you off somewhere?”

“He’d be a fool if he was. I’m a Sterling, he’d never make it to the bank.”

“A little louder next time,” said Risk. “Don’t think all the scum heard you.”