Sitting within a slow-moving carriage was an aged man. He had a head full of long white hair and a beard like a dragon’s. He wore a set of grey traditional robes which, along with the rest of his appearance, gave off an erudite air. A black octagonal pendant hung from around his neck, complimenting his scholarly look with a hint of mystery.
Most notably, however, was that everything from beneath the right knee was missing. In an organic shin’s place was a prosthetic metal leg with a red ruby encrusted near the top.
The man shut the notebook resting on his lap, stowing the pen and concealing both beneath his flowing robes. He faintly shook his head, as if troubled by something.
“Lord Aelfred, we’ve arrived,” reminded the driver.
As he spoke, the carriage came to a slow stop, jolting a few times due to the rocky road. Aelfred grunted as he stood, opening the door with a kick from the prosthetic.
He had arrived home to the city-state of Baelmont, the leading state within Biphrium in the field of biological research. Aelfred took in a deep breath of Baelmontian air as he gazed upon the ornate city gates, allowing a smile to emerge upon his wizened face.
After decades of research and study, the scientists of Baelmont had engineered several artificial species of flora and fauna with the purpose of combating the adverse effects of rapid industrial development. The bright and colourful patterns of these specimens also helped to break up the clinical white and grey monotony of the otherwise drab city.
Aelfred stepped down, breathing deeply as he walked. It had been many centuries since he’d lost his lower leg. The limp he used to walk with was now almost entirely unnoticeable.
He nodded at the driver and handed him a coin for his services. Though he had always paid the driver well, this last tour had been longer and more arduous than the rest. The driver had risked more than just his property and life in accommodating him, so a tip was more than well deserved.
“My lord, would you fancy feeding the bicorns?” The driver asked cheerfully.
“Of course,” Aelfred chuckled, receiving the basket of assorted vegetables with one hand.
The beasts responsible for pulling the carriage were a good example of Baelmontian ingenuity. Though similar in stature to ordinary horses, they were covered from head to toe in metallic scales as opposed to the usual leather. This provided an improved level of defensive capability, able to turn sundering strikes into glancing blows and to deflect small calibre gunfire.
The bicorns weren’t only powerful defensively, but boasted a strong offensive profile as well. Instead of hooves, they wielded lethally sharp claws coated in various bacteria. If the initial injuries weren’t enough to kill, then the ensuing infection would be the final nail in the coffin.
To support this, their legs had become more muscular and dextrous, able to articulate in ways unnatural to the basic equine form. Of course, for every advantage was an equal trade off. Bicorns were slower than natural horses on flatland and plains, more expensive to raise and difficult to breed.
Of course, due to their legs, they were much better at navigating rugged terrain.
But what concerned Aelfred was not when he could arrive somewhere, but ensuring he did. With two bicorns pulling the carriage, each the equal of two dozen expert fighters, let alone the driver and Aelfred himself, petty thieves and roving bandits had much to dissuade them.
Surprisingly, however, the bicorns were omnivorous - consumers of both flesh and feed, and generally docile in nature. To suit this, their forearms sported hooked opposable thumbs, allowing them to both strip flora as well as access grubs hidden away beneath the bark of trees and logs.
This adaptation was particularly useful for longer travels - one could lay pasture almost anywhere and ensure their mounts did not starve.
Aelfred stroked the scaly head of one of the bicorns as he fed it a carrot. The creature hissed appreciatively, while the other tried and failed to snatch food from the basket.
Once he finished feeding them, he returned the basket, admiring the city once more. Many different breeds of megaflora spiralled across the walls and much higher into the city, creating a level of verticality which many cities across Biphrium and even the whole world, lacked.
“It has been too long,” Aelfred sighed.
“Indeed it has, sir. Welcome home.”
From beneath a nearby tree emerged a younger man, considerably younger. He was accompanied by a retinue of honour guard dressed both colourfully and smartly.
“Ah, Peregrine. You look very smart,” Aelfred complimented, “how long have you been waiting?”
The man in question glanced at his wristwatch. As he did so, he raised his arm to the extent that Aelfred could easily identify the crest of the house Forsyth emblazoned upon his shoulder.
“Not long,” Peregrine lied with a smile.
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“I’m a week behind schedule and you’re still so courteous, you’re a real lady killer,” Aelfred joked, directing his gaze to the crest of nobility marking the younger man’s attire, “Congratulations on the marriage Peregrine - or should I say, Lord Forsyth?”
Peregrine dipped his head modestly.
“Even with my status in both the military and the scientific field, Lady Anne’s parents, siblings, cousins and extended family were all reluctant to allow the marriage.”
Aelfred patted Peregrine on the shoulder, “Had I expected such little resistance, I would have returned home sooner. You should have sent a messenger to tell me about the wedding.”
Peregrine shrugged and smiled helplessly, “I did, but you were too fast. The messenger hasn’t returned yet.”
Aelfred snorted humorously, shaking his head.
“In any case, those down-on-their-luck aristocrats are lucky to have you. Even if it’s just a political marriage, you’re not losing out,” he consoled.
Hearing this, Peregrine smiled. Despite the Council of Human Embetterment, the CHE, being the highest governing body in Biphrium, with its scholars being granted status on par with, if not surpassing princes of olden days, the still-surviving nobility carried unfounded pride.
To the uninitiated, Peregrine and Anne’s marriage appeared to smoothen the already strained relations between the scholarship and nobility, but in reality, it served only to exacerbate pre-existing differences.
Clack clack.
The sound of crisp footfalls heralded the arrival of inspectors. Aelfred and Peregrine both turned to look and when they were within speaking distance, the former gestured to the carriage with one arm.
“Greetings, gentlemen. The goods are in the back - be careful, some of them bite.”
The lead inspector came forward and shook hands with Aelfred first and Peregrine second, in order of seniority.
“Welcome back, Lord Aelfred. This won’t take long,” He then tapped the arm of his companion, “Swanson, go ahead and give it a brief look.”
“Aye sir.”
In the end, when he said 'brief look’, he really meant it. Inspector Swanson didn’t even lift the drapes covering the cargo, merely giving it a cursory glance before signalling the OK.
The inspectors quickly left.
Aelfred and Peregrine boarded the carriage.
“To my lab, please,” Aelfred instructed, then turned to look at Peregrine’s honour guard.
“Only room for two I’m afraid. You’ll have to jog back.”
Under their astounded gazes, he shut the carriage door and reclined back in his seat. In contrast, Peregrine sat firmly upright on the edge of the chaise.
“I’ve held numerous exchanges with genetics experts over the course of this last tour. I have both living proof of my concept as well as several samples of resonating materials,” Aelfred informed, “All that’s left is to take a leap of faith.”
“Have you submitted your paper to the CHE?” Peregrine inquired.
Aelfred waved his hand dismissively. With the project at a vital stage in its life cycle, any disruption could prove to be ruinous. Submitted papers would need to undergo a lengthy process of peer-reviewing before public publishing, just enough time for an overzealous board member to usurp and commandeer the project for themselves.
“Definitely not. Even with the live proof of concept, if it’s not human, it can easily be attributed to another project. Due to the complexity of the matter and the field of genetics as a whole, the entire subject is opaque to both laymen and other experts,” Aelfred reasoned, “Whomever starts disseminating misinformation first has the greatest advantage and I alone do not stand a chance against the CHE.”
Peregrine nodded slowly, “While you are correct, I cannot be your sole supporter. There’s only so much funding I can draw upon from the military.”
Despite his warning, Aelfred remained visibly relaxed, even going so far as to cross his good leg over the prosthetic in a leisurely manner.
“Indeed. But fret not, I have the perfect place to acquire more funding from.”
Peregrine raised an eyebrow, “Do tell.”
Aelfred grinned wolfishly.
“The CHE.”
Instinctively, Peregrine wanted to tell his senior to stop joking around, but the more he pondered, the more it made sense. While the chance of a member of the CHE engaging in intellectual theft wasn’t high, as long as something was groundbreaking or revolutionary enough, attempts would be made.
The only reason such a corrupt practice was tacitly allowed was because most of the decision makers on the CHE’s board benefited. To acquire an invention submitted to the CHE, a board member would have to make concessions to the other presiding members, an act of largesse. While the CHE nominally forbade plagiarism and intellectual theft, things were not that simple.
But that was where Aelfred’s true genius lay.
“You plan to control the thief? Strike a deal beforehand to ensure you retain final control of the project?”
Aelfred shrugged noncommittally, “While that is the initial plan, I haven’t gotten in contact with anybody from the CHE just yet. I’ve drawn up a shortlist of potential candidates here.”
As he spoke, he procured a notebook from within his robes, swiftly navigating through the pages until he found the one with a triple folded corner.
“Worst comes to worst, we can always take hostages,” Aelfred joked as he passed the book.
Peregrine received it with a slight smile and scanned the list thoroughly, his expression changing imperceptibly here and there.
After an initial look, he glanced up at Aelfred.
“Do you have a pen I could borrow?”
Peregrine marked various names on the list one by one. He quickly returned both pen and book to their owner.
“In my opinion, only one of those candidates is of any use. The rest are feasible, but carry far too much risk,” he warned, leaning back into the chaise and looking out of the window with a thoughtful expression.
“In truth, I agree. But in case anything had changed while I was away, I didn’t want to cut off too many options before understanding the current political climate,” Aelfred explained, “but why didn’t you consider Rashid Ashgar?”
Peregrine returned the question with a helpless expression.
“He’s in jail for releasing experimental specimens without permission, indirectly responsible for the near-extinction of several species of fauna and severe damage to the ecosystem.”
Aelfred’s expression turned dark. From memory, Ashgar had always been a reliable and well thought of man. Such an impulsive action was uncharacteristic.
“From the times I worked with him previously, he never gave off that sort of impression.”
“Indeed, I would not be surprised if there was a bigger plot behind these events,” Peregrine concurred.
The two continued to chat for a while before the carriage slowed to a halt once more. As they disembarked, Aelfred felt his good mood returning as he admired the clean and orderly streets of the Eastern district.
“You must be excited to see the live specimen.”
Peregrine nodded, walking with hands behind his back.
“Certainly more excited than I was for my wedding.”
Rolling his eyes, Aelfred unveiled the cargo, revealing several neatly stacked containers, all tied down by rope. In the centre was a significantly larger one of 2 metres in width, height and length. It was black in appearance and mostly isolated from the outside world, with only a few pinholes to facilitate the passage of air and nothing else.
“Behold.”