DUALITY: The World of Lies (5 page)

“Pfff… it’s a tiny little moon,” she blindly
re-asserted in the face of all his evidence to the contrary. “You
are a tiny little moonman from a tiny little moon.” She started in
to laugh at her own words, with her laughter begetting more and
more itself, as though it were hysterically funny. Naturally Aru
did not join in, but patiently held a sardonic smirk on his face
until it abated.

“At least I come from a celestial body that
knows which direction it’s supposed to turn and where its poles are
supposed to go,” he remarked in reference to Occitania’s slow
retrograde rotation and the extreme variance between its axis and
its poles.

“Oh no, you wouldn’t dare!” she challenged
him, giggling in mock horror.

He indeed dared. “It’s only fitting how its
inhabitants mirror the qualities of such a confused lumbering
imbecile of a planet.”

“Oh, you rascal, Aru! Only someone raised in a
bloody arid hellscape could speak such evil of my beautiful and
cherished homeworld….” she lashed back, reminding herself of one of
the oldest joke out there on the subject and putting it forth at
once. “How does a Calidonian know he’s arrived in Hell?” she went
on, leaving only the briefest pause before he could try to preempt
the well-known punchline.

“He doesn’t!” she spat out
prematurely.

“Because he’s surrounded by Occitanians?” Aru
simultaneously countered.

Mei hit him playfully, that cad! Clearly
pleased with his rejoinder, he smiled and laughed with her, at
least to the extent his noble-born and military conservatism
allowed.

He really was so clever and
humorous… and
so
handsome. There was something about knowing that you could be
atomized into non-existence at any given moment that made all the
baggage seem inconsequential. She liked this feeling. It reminded
her of her cadet days at NavCenter, where she’d been fast-tracked
through the program to be commissioned under Captain Psyron of the
Kinetic Dream, the daring handsome captain of Fleet fame –who only
ever answered to himself. She was starry eyed in love before she
ever set foot on deck. And in her thirteen years of service beside
him, they had become iconic as inseparable lovers traversing the
Taiji and leaving tales of daring valor in their wake. They had
surely done all that, but in the day to day space could be quite
boring, and over the years the crew members had fallen away til
only they two remained. Aru had even broken off his family-approved
engagement to the daughter of another elite Calidonian house in
light of their unofficialized, yet widely-known and remarked upon,
relationship.

This was what she’d been missing, more than
the sex, more than the glory: this simple happy companionship.
Maybe that's all there really is to love, just being able to joke
around.

“Speaking of nightmarish fiery hellscapes…”
Aru said. “Let’s see where your brief stint at mission command has
taken us. System: full display, real scale, orient to forward
vector.”

Since the Kinetic was a centrifuge, it was
constantly spinning, so the last command was standard to orient
their view in the direction the ship was moving toward rather than
any point of the 360 degree plane they might be randomly facing at
a given time.

All sides of the tubular gray utilitarian
primary bridge suddenly burst forth in the vivid full-scale visual
spectrum view in real-time as it was received from the ships outer
shield ring sensors. It was Mei’s favorite mode of display because
it felt like standing bare in space, free and shipless. The full
scope of the forward display was taken up by the colossal form of
Ignis Rubeli, the Red Star, its surface bubbling and broiling
before them. The weaving strands of plasma twine shifted about the
surface by the whims of magnetic storms. It was breathtaking.
Though she’d seen such solar images before, never had she actually
viewed them whilst within the star, and that made all the
difference in how richly one experienced such a sight.

She reached for Aru’s hand and it gently
reciprocated. She rested her head on his shoulder and felt happier
than she had in ages.

“Kinny, raise bridge temperature 2 degrees,”
she ordered. “I’m a bit chilly.”

“Yes, Commander.”

Aru chuckled at her attempt to defy the
searing sea of flames. “I think more than anything this occasion
calls for… ice cream!”

“Yes! Yes yes yes yes yes!” Mei agreed
giddily. She ordered up mango ice-cream with pineapple syrup from
Kinny, her nickname for System. Aru joined her with that same old
tropical nut-blend selection he never deviated from. They whiled
away the time, talking like the old days. They spoke a familiar
fare of family happenings, political gossip and going-ons, and
playful banter as they tore through the crown of Ignis Rubeli and
on into its fiery depths. It surely was a vision of Hell, but to
Mei, this moment felt more like Heaven.

E
xhausted
from the prior night's events, Gahre would meet no bed. They did
not even offer him food. Their eyes had lit upon the rifle, and
they had demanded it at once. Gahre, still as yet unaware of how
the authorities would interpret his actions, surrendered the rifle
and began to relay his account aloud in public, but the authorities
were having none of that. He was whisked away to a detention room
and questioned repeatedly over the events. After giving his account
to Elder Panthus, then to Sheriff Janker, then to the Ranger
garrison Commander Throjos, and once more to man he knew not at
all, he lost all patience and attempted to set out for a
long-overdue meal and the comfort of his bed. To his utter vexation
the sheriff ordered him legally detained. He knew the two town
deputy officers personally, so when they apologetically approached
him and attempted to grab his arms on either side, he shoved them
off with only half his strength, which was still enough force to
send one sailing into the wall of the detention room with a marked
thud.

He faced the next man, but there was no
challenge from him. He grunted and strolled out from the detention
room, past the guards in the main hall and out the door into the
midday streets of town in a direct line to Mythor’s
Tavern.

Gahre was warmly greeted therein. He politely
but firmly dismissed the curious patrons and their queries and took
solitude at a dark corner table. “Lamb,” he ordered, “a full rack.
Salad, bread, water and a pitcher of milk.”

He sat in to wait, salivating, wanting for his
meal and felt his anger rising. He had been compelled to retell the
events four times over while the tone of their questioning became
ever more accusatory. Had he not just brought them one of the most
wanted criminals in the realms? He never imagined such a reception.
They had attempted to detain him by force, as though there were
more to tell, as though he were a criminal himself. It was
intolerable foolishness, and he fumed over it til the dishes came,
one by one in quick succession. Mythor, the proprietor, delivered
them himself and told Gahre that in light of his brave deed, the
rumors of which had spread like wildfire through the town, he would
dine on the house. Gahre made his best effort to decline and offer
up his coin, but Mathor would have none of it and pressed his
insistence. Gahre, just wishing a fast resolution to the matter,
thanked him and briskly took up his utensils. As he prepared to dig
in, a cacophony of bootsteps thudded their way into the tavern,
made their way through, and surrounded his table before the first
chunk of the hot fatty lamb juice could soak into his tongue. With
no small hint of annoyance, Gahre set down his food and went still,
refusing to look up at them.

“Begone!” he told them. “I’ve given you a full
and truthful accounting. There is nothing more to it, and I am done
with you.”

“It is not that simple,” returned the Sheriff.
“You, Gahre Aurori, Son of Danu, have been found, by your own
confession, to be in willful violation of the Law on at least four
counts. We are hereby arresting you on the charges of…”

Gahre scoffed. “Confession? I gave you no
confession! I gave you testimony detailing the happenings of the
last eve, which resulted in the apprehension of an infamous bandit.
I admit to nothing unlawful or dishonorable on my part, nor am I
willing to hear it.”

“Stop this nonsense, Sheriff! The boy’s deeds
were noble,” came the voice of a patron Gahre could not quite
identify, followed by more affirmative calls from the other guests
and staff.

“Be that as it may, this man is in violation
of four counts of felony. His defense may be relayed to the
magistrate, who has been summoned from the capital and should
arrive within the week,” Sheriff Janker bellowed back at them with
all the authority he could muster. “Until then, the boy is to be
detained in the town jail.”

This announcement elicited a round of jeers
from the patrons. Realizing he could soon be parted from it, Gahre
took a large, succulent bite of the lamb, hastily savoring it
through the distraction, then hurriedly swallowed and took
another.

Mythor approached the ring of men, bypassing
the Sheriff and addressing Elder Panthus directly. “Venerable
Elder, surely this is unnecessary!”

Old Panthus seemed conflicted himself but
insisted that he could not interfere with the due process of the
Law.

“Read the damn charges then!” challenged
Cherles the Barber from his barstool and probably well into his
cups. This was echoed by more calls from the other patrons. “Yeah,
read the charges!” “Let’s hear them!”

Gahre, who was now stuffing his face with food
as fast as physically possible, nearly spit it out when he heard
the first of them.

“You are hereby charged with assault with a
deadly weapon, resulting in grievous bodily injury.”

It was enough to divert his focus
away from his food and directly into the Sheriff’s shifting eyes,
and he shrunk under Gahre's fixation. “He is a notorious and
wanted
highwayman
,
Sheriff!” Gahre shouted with half his mouth full.

“Nonetheless, you ambushed their
company.”

“A company of brigands gearing up for assault
on the innocent!”

“You could not know their intent. If this were
a matter of self-defense, the law would be on your side. But it is
not. You crept upon a party who was unaware of your presence and
ambushed them with lethal force. You fired first and drew first
blood.”

“I did rightly acertain their intent!” Gahre
stood up abruptly knocking the table back and causing a pitcher of
milk to drop and shatter on the floor. “They were positioned on
high ground below a ridge, camped there for days or more waiting to
strike on that wayhouse. Indeed from that vantage they were
scouting the wayhouse, whereupon last eve the merchant family
lodged. I saw them sharpening their sabers and donning armor. There
was no question as to their intent. It was perfectly
evident.”

“It was suspicious, surely. But that brings me
to the second felony I must charge you with: Unlawful Vigilantism.
You are neither a lawman nor a ranger, and thus have no authority
to apprehend suspected criminals.”

“I am a junior Ranger. And does Har Darox not
have a bounty on him? Is he not a wanted brigand, accused of murder
and defilement? Does his likeness not hang in every township and
outpost from here to the opposite ends of the world?”

“Junior Rangers have no so such authority to
detain folk. In fact I believe as a junior ranger you are trained
for such contingency and did not follow protocol. Isn't that
correct, Master Ranger Throjos?”

Throjos cleared his throat and answered
carefully. “The protocol a junior ranger is deemed to follow upon
the sighting of criminally suspicious circumstance is to
immediately report his observations to the nearest township or
garrison outpost. He has no more authority to apprehend suspects
than any civilian, which is to say none at all. That said, however,
Sheriff, the boy is of age and we were, and still are, of mind to
offer him commission to our ranks.”

“Which means nothing under the Law. So you
would agree, would you not, Master Ranger, that the boy acted
outside the Law having as he did options other than committing
deadly assault?”

“Surely he did not follow protocol, Sheriff.
To be truthful his account belies belief. A young man with no prior
combat experience ambushing and successfully capturing three
hardened bandits. I think we need to look at….”

“He’s a bloody hero is what he is!” hollered
Cherles raising his stein. More onlooker affirmations followed.
Townsfolk were coming in off the street now, and the tavern was
quickly filling to capacity.

“Hear this, Sheriff!” Gahre stated to all.
“The nearest outpost to the wayhouse is over ten kilometers east
along the highway, further than this town. Had I headed out for
either, those bandits surely would have carried out their violence.
I sprung an ambush using stealth and cover of darkness, not in my
own self-defense, but in the preemptive defense of the innocent
boarders below who would otherwise have surely been set upon. And
why would I not use such tactics? I faced greater numbers and
weaponry, and so pressed every advantage at my disposal. I stand
righteously by both my judgment and my actions.”