Mana Pool Snippets - The Job

Part 2

Twenty paper notebooks. Check.

My father's functioning voice recorder. Check.

Memory recording device from the Archives. Check.

Handful of pens. Check.

Plenty of pure water for me and guest. Check.

I was sure that I had everything. Things looked good that next morning, I smiled without worry for the first time since arriving. I had a job to do, and I take my interviews seriously.

It was an hour later that I began to worry that Jaruka had not shown up and Ketho and Mr. Dunne went out to find him. I understood that he lived at a site in a dropship of some sort.

I waited for another hour, staring at the door, and eating my remaining protein cakes. I wished I had some fruits or root veggies, but customs is stringent these days. Terra Firma wine interested me still, but I had five hours left for my nanites to settle in my system. Waiting never agrees with me.

Half an hour passed by. What's taking them so long?

My run-ins with Halcunacs have become less and less frequent in the past decade. You've heard of their Trade and Traveler Embargo, I suppose? Oh right, humans and terrans are reading this too. In short they restricted their own people from leaving Viro outside of special circumstances. Trade with neighboring worlds became infrequent every month, visitation rights from other worlds were restricted, and that was within seven years. Halcunacs are a superstitious species; it is a mystery their magical customs slowly dwindled in importance. The plant-animal hybrid magical species, quite rare in the galaxy, lost communes with their planet's living deity. The culture's clan leaders and politicians, including Galactic Councilman Rajda Algon, swore an oath of silence explaining why outside their planet, and all further learning lead to dead ends.

I wanted to know—besides Terra Firma's predicament—why his people were acting this way. Face it, this is the first Halcunac to ever make a serious, if not a political, problem with the Protection Act. If there weren't any answers, those rumors of Viro pulling out of the Republic could become true.

Another hour passed with me scribbling a few theories into my notebook on so many theories. I was ready to throw my notebook as the door was kicked wide open hitting the wall.

"Found him," Ketho said. "It wasn't easy getting in the ship, but luckily, Denverbay gave me the shield's override codes. We found him passed out in a corner hugging an unmarked hooch bottle."

Ketho and Scott held Jaruka up by his arms, his legs dragged behind him. Long, unshaved and wooly wood-like skindreads hid his face.

"Ketho, please knock! I almost hit you!" I put my notebook down on the table. "What do you mean passed out?"

They came in and dropped the Halcunac on the floor like bad-butchered meat. Scott gasped for air and said, "Friggin' hell, I think he gained some weight."

"Terran strength. Still human after all," Ketho said. "Rare enough to see his kind way out here."

"Kind?" I asked.

"No honor dread." Ketho pointed at the exposed stump behind Jaruka's head. "This guy's dry. Except for what he drank."

"Honor dread?" Scott asked.

That was interesting at the least. The stump was healed, but it had to have been sliced or burned off. So barbaric for his people, what kind of sick person did that?

"He's been like this since?" I asked.

"Yeah. Jaruka's been depressed ever since he parked that ship next to the lake. It's tough watching him but what else can we do? He refuses help, especially from Katie."