Protector

by Luke Norris

  He walked to the door where he’d left a long narrow box, about the length of his forearm.

  “A new addition?” Lenat raised his eyebrows and sucked on the kiss fruit. Excellent, our arsenal is severely lacking. He thought to himself, as he watched Krin bring the item over to the incidents table. He cleared away space for the box, pushing the files of ‘new incidents’ to the back. This was important, he could tell by the way that Krin was coddling the box.

  Krin tore away the tape and opened the box, revealing cloth packing around the long item.

  “Will you do the honors Lenat?” He proffered the item reverently in front of himself.

  Lenat put his drink down. He could sense that this would be something special. He took the offering and they both crowded over it as Lenat pulled back the material. A shining chrome blade revealed itself. Lenat’s eyes were wide as he uncovered the hilt to reveal a green gem in the handle.

  They turned to each other, and whispered in unison, “Quando’s sword.”

  It had the stamp ‘Made in Shem’ printed on the base of the handle. Lenat didn’t pay attention to that. “How did you come by the… artifact?” he asked reverently.

  “I found a Sheman merchant in my search for an older edition of Tales,” Krin said, “and he had this. He assured me it’s a limited edition. I’ve been saving for it for six months.”

  “How much was it?” Lenat asked, “It must have been a fortune.”

  Krin went slightly red, “he assured me it was limited edition,” was all he gave in answer.

  Lenat noticed something, looking at the handle closely.

  “The gem of power fell out, so I had to glue it back in,” Krin admitted.

  Lenat could see the small amount of hardened glue at the edges of the Quando’s green gem of power. “Krin,” he said solemnly, “It’s magnificent!” He carefully positioned it on the table. “Shall we do an inventory check of our full arsenal?”

  Lenat retrieved the small handgun they had acquired a year ago. It was an old weapon, and he couldn’t guarantee that it still worked since he had never actually shot it. He placed it on the table. Then the twenty-two bullets for the weapon which were in a small box. The last item was some throwing spikes that they had found in a novelty store in Naharain center.

  Lenat carefully positioned the items next to each other. He picked up his drink and sucked through the straw, examining the Readiness Kit.

  They stood there in silence. It didn’t need to be said that the new addition, Quandos sword of power, was the centerpiece. If it ever came to a battle, it would surely give the wielder extra abilities, bravery, dexterity, speed… attracting their own Sadrina.

  Krin retrieved the newest edition of Tales of Quando and placed it next to the sword. They stood there slurping their drinks, lost in thoughts of grandeur for several more minutes.

  “You know what this means?” Lenat said, still staring at the green gem. “We will have to incorporate the sword into our tactics during training.

  Krin nodded, turning the pages of the comic to one that showed Quando wielding the sword against an extraterrestrial foe. On the following page, he stood over the slain enemy extending his hand to Sadrina. She wore a silver skin-tight suit and held a gun of her own.

  They turned the page back to examine the sword strokes that Quando employed. “You do the honors, Krin.” Lenat gave him the short sword. “Let’s use the manikin.”

  He dragged a wooden post from the corner of the room. It had been wrapped in foam and dressed in a brown shirt, and a red sash draped over the shoulder to look like a Naharainee government official.

  Krin took the sword and attempted some swings at the practice manikin. It was clear he’d probably never performed a hacking motion with any tool in his entire life. He managed to make a few small holes in the material. After a few swings, he handed the sword to Lenat rubbing his elbow. Lenat examined the pages again before taking the weapon and attempting his own hacking swings, he didn’t do much more damage than Krin.

  “Okay, good training,” Lenat said, five minutes later. He was heaving for breath and had his hands on his knees. “I think we should devote some more time to study.”

  Krin readily agreed, and they sat back down at the incidents table and pulled the newest edition of Quando closer.

  “Let’s go from the beginning,” Krin said, “I’ve only read this edition twice.”

  For the next hour, they sat over the comic, ardently studying Quando, and only turning each page after absorbing every detail.

  “Have you had to use your training lately,” Krin enquired. “On any, you know… Naharainee officials?”

  “Dozens of times already,” Lenat replied. “I was leaving the store earlier, after picking up rations, and a group of men descended upon me from across the road.” Lenat looked down into his drink before continuing. “I had to dispatch them all, there was no other way. There were probably ten of them,” he slurped his kissfruit, eyes down.

  “I had the same situation yesterday,” Krin confided. “I used Quando’s spinning lunge to avoid capture and take down an opponent.”

  “Good choice,” Lenat said. “Quando’s spinning lunge is ideal for up to five adversaries at once. It wouldn’t have worked in my case, because I had to fight so many at once.”

  “That’s true,” Krin admitted, turning the page. “Look here, at this sequence,” he pointed to the first image. “Quando is charging the extraterrestrial, but he has no weapon.”

  “Yes.” Lenat agreed, “But here comes Taiko, he has the sword of power, and he throws it to Quando, and he catches it in midair.”

  They both stared, in wishful awe of their hero’s athletic prowess. “Readiness”

  “Quando uses the weapon,” Krin narrated, “and cuts off the arm of the enemy, but it only angers it. Sweet Verity, it must be strong. He’s about to be killed by the extraterrestrial. Look it has him by the neck.”

  Lenat narrated the next image. “The extraterrestrial puts a foot on Quando’s chest and points the gun at his head.”

  Krin turned the page carefully. They both knew what was on the other side, but Lenat didn’t interrupt, there could still be new lessons to be learned. They studied the images zealously, savoring each image.

  On the next page was the image of Sadrina, silver and beautiful. She was descending through the air, down on the extraterrestrial, with a blaster gun in her hand. She dispatched the enemy, rescuing her partner in the nick of time. She held her hand out to Quando on the ground, her skintight grey suit glistening.

  “Sadrina.” They both said the name religiously.

  Lenat looked at Krin, “See, that is the kind of attack sequence that works.” He told his skinny friend. “The trifecta, working together.” They were both silent for a while, before Lenat added, “Well, we work as a duo now that we don’t have Neith. Maybe we can adapt it.”

  “Let’s run it together,” Krin suggested. “I’ll be Taiko first, and you play Quando.”

  Lenat walked over to the manikin and placed the loose shirt sleeve around his neck to represent being held as Quando had been.

  Krin took the small handgun and sword from the table. He was in position. Lenat started struggling trying to free himself from the extraterrestrial tyrant. “I’ll never give up you fiend,” he told it defiantly, wrestling with the loose shirtsleeve.

  “Lenat!” Krin yelled over the battle, pretending to shoot the weapon at the manakin, “the sword of power.” He tossed the sword awkwardly to Lenat, whose eyes became wide at the rotating steel blade coming toward him. He yelled and jumped out of the way. The weapon landed on the floor, the sharp tip embedded itself solidly into the wooden floorboards, so it stayed upright shuddering.

  They both stared with wide eyes at the quivering sword.

  Krin broke the silence. “I think we should study some more perhaps, this is quite an advanced move.”

  Lenat nodded silently and walked back to open the comic book. They quickly became ani
mated again and lost in the battles of their hero.

  They had been looking through different incidents for an hour or so. It was all the usual suspects; people who were under the influence of the government control, or any photos of the president they could compare with older ones that confirmed he was an imposter. There were no conclusive ones so far, but it was just a matter of time.

  “I have a new incident I would like to submit to the incident library,” Krin said formally, pulling the next file off his small pile. “I overheard a woman talking to her husband, on the Tashka west bank by the ferry terminal. She swore she saw something strange, and described an aberration on the water, and then two men disappear behind it. Her husband dismissed it as a trick of the light and told her to stop pestering him. But I observed the place for a further forty minutes where the woman indicated to and can confirm there was an aberration in the air. It was similar to the shimmering created by heat. I did not see the men disappear with my own eyes, but the distorted air did rise into the sky.”

  Lenat nodded solemnly, all incidents were to be taken seriously. This was most likely another faction of the Naharainee government conducting undercover experiments.

  “How many times did the anomaly repeat?” Lenat enquired.

  Krin paused. “Just once,” he admitted.

  “They are being cautious,” Lenat said narrowing his eyes. “This is even far beyond what we thought they were capable of.”

  “Do you think it’s possible that its something else?” Krin’s brow was furrowed in consternation. “Not the government?”

  People disappearing physically into a shimmering object did sound next level, magical even. Lenat thought about this and looked at Krin as realization slowly dawned on both their faces. They turned simultaneously to the newest edition of Tales of Quando. It was still open on the page where he stood with Sadrina above the slain body of alien they had defeated. The red skin on its face visible. They both stared at the image for several seconds before whispering together, “Extraterrestrials.”

  “It’s the logical answer,” Krin continued. “Maybe not everything can be credited to the government. Some of it is extraterrestrials for sure.”

  “For sure,” Lenat agreed. “We have to get the word out. We have to go public. They have to know that we have extraterrestrials in our backyards. You know what I’m thinking.”

  “Channel seventeen?” Krin asked

  “Channel seventeen,” Lenat confirmed.

  *

  “You're assigning them to me aren’t you?” Renshaw already knew the answer. He also knew he looked like he’d just been dragged across the Tashka mud flats. He was unshaven and hadn’t had a haircut in far too long. He didn’t require the smug stares from his director and assistant to remind him of the state he was in.

  Hell, sending him to interview the conspiracy twins was confirmation enough how low things had sunk. It was a job normally left for new recruits as an initiation joke. Every year the conspiracy twins had some new far-fetched connection they’d made. His inauguration, with the ‘crazy two’ had been the lizard man it the Naharainee forest. That was many years ago. What had they invented now?

  Even this assignment could not put him in a foul mood. He was leaving. He was done with channel seventeen and his boss’s narcissism. Nobody really took this station seriously, as a credible news source. His boss seemed to be frustrated when Renshaw didn’t display the humiliation at being put on such a case. With his experience as a senior reporter, he should have been mortified. It was a kind of final punishment or revenge, but Renshaw wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

  “You take this far too seriously,” Renshaw told him. “You actually think people watch seventeen? Once my notice period is up I’m going to work for an agency with integrity, a respectable one not like channel seventeen. I’ve had offers from channel six and eight already.” He lied. The director knew it too. Bastard.

  Renshaw drove to the bridge to make his way over toward the East Bank. He would meet the camera crew there. A bunch of interns probably. He knew the way. Just like all the other freshies, he’d interviewed with the conspiracy twins as his induction. He’d actually found it funny back then. Hell, It was still funny to watch the newbies have to interview those two loons. But years later, after all the serious work he’d contributed to the profession, to be put on a case with the ‘crazy two’ was decidedly not funny.

  That’s what you get for blowing the whistle, he scolded himself. Arif had the whole network in the palm of his hand. Renshaw had counted on the mysterious disappearance of the Zewka baron, and the absence of funds flowing into the station would have given him some protection in being a whistleblower. Well, that theory had backfired spectacularly.

  Renshaw accelerated unconsciously, zipping past the boat sheds and warehouses along the banks of the Tashka. It was such an ugly river. Yellow murky water, he’d heard that in Shar the water was crystal clear and flowed between the buildings. He lived in this shithole. He speed past the sheds, lost in his thoughts. Suddenly a ball rolled out on the road. In front of Renshaw’s vehicle.

  Ponsy’ hammer! He tried to break, but it locked up sending him into a sideways drift. He couldn’t pull the vehicle around, it was out of his control. It slid sideways riding up over the curb. The crash scattered a group of young boys who were forced to jump out of the way as the Renshaw clunked to a stop against the brick wall of a warehouse.

  “Hey, you damn kids,” Renshaw yelled at the youths, as he got out to survey the damage. They stood in a line, laughing at him like a panel of miscreant judges. The ball that had caused him to swerve came to a stop by his feet. He’d teach them to watch what they were doing. Renshaw knew it had really been his fault—he’d been speeding. That didn’t stop him from picking up the ball and kicking it over the small fence into the brown water.

  “What the hell man?” one of the large youths shouted, running toward him. “You almost run us down, and then you kick our ball away.”

  Renshaw saw the fist coming an instant before he felt it connect with his eye socket.

  “Ah, that’s just fantastic,” he looked at the swelling on his cheek in the mirror, as he drove the last few hundred meters to his destination. The eye was red and had already begun to show the telltale signs of deep bruising. By the time he was on air it would be a ripe plum.

  He pulled over behind the crew. They were unpacking the filming equipment from the large channel seventeen van. One of the girls waved at him as he parked, and faltered at seeing his bumper, which was completely stoved in.

  “What happened…” she asked, trailing off as Renshaw hopped out and she inspected his face. He slammed the door behind himself. She seemed startled. Sweet Verity, how young was she? Had he looked so fresh when he’d first started at the station?

  “Koedi is with the two researchers,” she continued, “setting up the correct angles and lighting.”

  Researchers? Okay, this girl was obviously a real newbie.

  “He’s our camera guy?” Renshaw asked. “Got to get that lighting right,” he added sarcastically. “Wouldn’t want this to come across as unprofessional.”

  She looked slightly insulted. To be fair, he had also taken this assignment seriously when he began. Well, the least he could do is keep his comments to himself, no need to prematurely burst her bubble. That would happen soon enough of its own accord.

  “Alright,” he sighed. “Lead the way.”

  As Renshaw rounded the corner, he choked back a laugh. The boy Koedi was setting up around the two interviewees. He was so focused on his equipment that he seemed totally oblivious to how the two looked.

  Lenat, the chubby one, had an open vest on with no shirt underneath. His white stomach protruded proudly. He had slicked his black hair flat, so it fell forward down to his eyebrows. And what was that on his hip? It looked like a toy sword from where Renshaw was standing. But upon close inspection, yes it still looked like a toy sword. Why was he sweating profusely? It wasn’t
twenty-three degrees.

  His tall blond friend was the visual antithesis. He wore a large white t-shirt that was draped over his gangly frame. He wore a leather utility belt with small domed compartments.

  Ponsy’s hammer. This would be funny if he weren’t about to conduct an interview with them in a few minutes.

  The girl that had met him earlier came bustling up to him with a hot beverage. “Freshly brewed Shar Tea, Renshaw.” She handed it to him with dutiful eyes.

  She’s obviously familiar with my work, he thought as he sipped the drink. Bitter. Far too bitter. He spat out the mouthful. “It just needs a little sweetening.” He carefully poured some of the contents on the ground to make space in his cup. Then taking a small flask from inside his coat he topped up the drink and winked at the wide eyed intern. Normally, he wouldn’t do this at work, but he was meant to be in the prime of his career and found himself about to interview the conspiracy twins for the second time in his life.

  “Alright Koedi,” he said. “Let’s get this farce wrapped up so we can all do something better with our time. How much longer do you need?”

  Koedi was affronted, but as he looked at Renshaw properly for the first time, he noticed the man’s black eye. “What happened to you?” after receiving no answer, he hurriedly added, “five minutes.”

  Renshaw left the demoralized looking interns and walked over to the conspiracy twins.

  “Any more lizard-man sightings, Lenat?” he asked, with raised eyebrows.

  “There have been twenty-five sightings since our Channel Seventeen report on the Naharainee reptile humanoid,” Lenat replied seriously. “I will admit that there was a spike in sightings after that report that we deemed… dubious,” he cleared his throat. “Several women claimed their husbands were the, ah, lizard-man.”

  “Ah ha,” Renshaw wasn’t listening to his answer, he was distracted by the man’s attire. “Are you really wearing that on camera?” He indicated to the toy sword on Lenat’s waist.

  “It is important that people know we are equipped for this new threat,” Lenat mumbled. Krin was standing next to him, nodding along solemnly. “Would you like us to run through the incident files with you before the live interview.”