by M.C. O'Neill
***
The Na’rundi villa was a modest one-floor ranch, but large enough to accommodate the growing crowd that evening, Gonduanna and Atlantis had spared no expenses for a colonel and Tam’laa much appreciated the size of the place. Located just on the outskirts of downtown, it wouldn’t be too long before Ferd’inn and Mavriel arrived off the Loop Liner, providing that they didn’t have any run-ins with the authorities; earthly or otherwise.
“So, let me get this straight one more time before I really end up making a complete fool of myself and possibly harbor a worldwide suspect here,” Lord Na’rundi sat down on his divan and rubbed his broad chin. “You say you saw two of the Aldebarans swoop an MR/DD lad right up into the sky for no reason? I mean, that was the clincher for me, and I trust your judgment Tam, but I want to make sure I too didn’t just react to a mere accusation.”
“That is exactly what happened, Father,” she sat down across from him in their long family room as their fireplace smoldered a log. “On’dinn and I both saw it and heard it! There was still some time left before curfew and we saw the little guy trying to get home on foot. On’dinn suggested we give him a ride, but before I could act, two of those things touched down right in front of him and started making fun of him.”
“Yeah!” On’dinn cut in. “They were really being cruel and ridiculing of his condition for no reason, and then they just took him away! Right up into the night! It was awful and we could hear him screaming until he was so far up that his voice no longer carried!”
Tam’laa pointed with grim hesitation to the lonely wooden box on the coffee table before them. “And there is his lunchbox. The thing fell right out of the sky, right next to my coach! We overheard him say he worked at Managrill, but I don’t know which one. They’re all over the place.”
“Colonel Na’rundi,” On’dinn said with juvenile formality. “These things from those arks are bad news. I mean, they could have just been two bad apples, but I can’t say I’ve ever really trusted them.”
Lord Na’rundi’s ears twitched. “You are exactly right about that, On’dinn. Although those two did what they did, they may not represent the entirety of the Aldebarans. Every army has a few rotten soldiers. I cannot, being in my position, go pointing fingers around until I can get better facts. Definitely not against an entire planet! The general public is depending on their forces to save our hides and, so far, everything checks out that this is their honest intent. Considering the circumstances, we can’t let this out of the bag. No one would believe it, at least not if it weren’t all over the screens. You should have at least recorded this. It would take someone like Centeo or even Venn’lith Mitlan to get the world to believe that!”
“Sure,” On’dinn groaned. “I don’t see either of those two stepping up to that plate any time soon.”
“They have no reason to,” the colonel shrugged his big shoulders. “Until tonight, except for a few conspiracy theorists, the whole world loves these folks. They, I mean we, depend on them. What is the other option? Assured death by orc? Tam and I saw the transmission of the massacre. It would be terrible if those things got here and we were still on the surface.”
The two teens sat there and chewed upon Lord Na’rundi’s logic. They weighed that they take their chances living under a possible tyrannical boot of a superior species, or stick around and be killed by the fist of another tyrannical species. It boiled down to those two choices, they figured. Was death better, On’dinn wondered? Could he opt-out of the exodus and just wait around for the foul inevitable?
“As for Dee, I just don’t know,” the old lord grimaced in sad confusion. “When her mother told me what she did to Lith, I guess I just have a hard time believing that she’s completely innocent. But when I think that Lith would actually turn her spite toward Dee to sabotage the exodus - that is going too far. The worst possibility in that scenario is that she was put up to it. You kids have to admit, Dee is kind of naive. A real Mari’su.”
Tam’laa cracked a small smile at that. It was true, Quen’die might be persuaded with ease, but she wasn’t much of a rule-breaker. Whoever did put her up to it would have had to make a strong and very convincing attempt to get her to act upon such a weighty scheme, the maiden guessed. “You’re right about that, Father, but I still say she was set up, not put on.”
“Yes,” On’dinn joined. “And there’s no more Black Hood. I am almost sure of it. Once Travius was nabbed, that was pretty much disbanded.”
“Yes, On’dinn, but these kinds of organizations are loose and can find their way back into charter,” the old gold elf remained in concerned thought. “If there is a ‘Black Hood 2’ they may have absolutely no connection to Travius. Maybe they followed his preaching from afar, or maybe they just like the name! You have to remember, that freak was all over the screen before being busted. He had a pretty high profile and reached many, many people.”
Banda slapped his thick thighs and got off the divan. “All right, Ferd’inn and this Mavriel guy are coming over either way, and I think we should get their take on all of this before we begin making calls. I’ll be honest, I think this situation is a bit sketchy and I know I am sticking my neck out regardless, but I have made my decision.”
Tam’laa got up and grabbed the wooden box. “Don’t you think we should at least call a couple of the Managrills in the area and see if they have a disabled lad working for them and then let them know what happened?”
“They’d all be closed by now, Tam,” her father answered. “I understand that timing is important, but I can’t just go around calling all of the many Managrills and ask about missing employees. Just by having Ferd’inn over tonight, I am getting in way too deep here. I know; check the inside of the box for an address. Maybe his mother put it there in case it got lost.”
Tam’laa took her father’s advice with some apprehension. There was something so ghastly about peeking into this kid’s life. A bit relieved, Tam’laa found the box was bare of even crumbs. The lad must have kept his personal information on himself somewhere. Wherever he was. Her heart sank again for the little elf and she bit down on her tongue so that she would not become engulfed in her tears again.
“No dice, Father.”
“All right,” he nodded. “We’ll just keep it safe in the kitchen, and when I get more info on the matter, maybe we can start calling up in the morning.”
A tense half hour and quarter of a fire log later, the house rang out, “Colonel Na’rundi, you have visitors!” The three jumped in their places at the sudden swath to the silence. On’dinn almost dropped the small plate of fried tomato that Tam’laa had offered him with a squeak.
“Ferd’inn!” the colonel boomed upon seeing his old friend illuminated in the blue of the bug light. “I see you guys made it without getting arrested!”
Under usual circumstances, that would have been a lame witticism, but Lord Reyliss was worried, in all honesty, that he was being sought by the law just because his daughter was demonized the world over. “Thanks for having me tonight, Banda.”
Na’rundi nodded. “Not a problem. And I take it you are Mavriel, yes?”
Behind Lord Reyliss stood a very tall young elf with long blond hair. Even in the gloomy light, Na’rundi could tell this lad was somewhat different, and that oddity lay within the eyes. It was almost as if the elf knew so many things that he was rendered far wiser than his age. The discrepancy wasn’t entirely uneasy as Banda felt a small wave a calm wash over him for a moment. It was no wonder why his friend found trust and solace in this one and, considering his circumstances, Ferd’inn needed it.
“Ah, yes, Colonel Na’rundi, I am Mavriel,” he split a small smile.
“Well, it seems we have much to discuss tonight, and I suppose we might as well since I’m up for it and can’t get to sleep after all of this,” Banda beckoned the pair inside. “Can I get you something to drink? Maybe some fried tomato?”
