Saturn Police: Introduction and Chapter 1

INTRODUCTION: In the Auditorium

"Reality is always more complex than the way it is presented. All of you gathered knowledge from universities, from the army, from the streets. None of that matters here. In this place, things work differently. The rules could not be more simple: I make the decisions, you carry them out. If you fail to meet my expectations, you will be dismissed without pay. If you still have any doubts left, I request that you stand up and leave. Right now."

A man in uniform with greying hair examined the crowd in front of him, looking for signs of surprise, insecurity, or anger. This year's course seems exceptionally dispassionate. He wasn't fooled by that impression. They may appear disciplined, but inner discipline is a different story entirely. Half of the recruits dropped out throughout the year; half of the rest wouldn't pass the final exams.
            "The special unit for combating political crime exists to handle extraordinary threats to the citizens of the fifteen republics. Right now, the biggest threat to our state, to our federation, has both a name and a symbol."

A symbol appeared behind the speaker's back: two hands locked in a handshake, against a background that resembled a cogwheel.  

            "Breakthru! This is a name that is mentioned everywhere and at any time. But who are they? What do they want? The answer depends on whom you ask."

            A tall, thin woman with straight black hair appeared on the screen. Her face was frozen in a cold expression. Dressed in a green dress and wearing heavy makeup, she looked young, attractive, and determined.

            "Pricilla Aja leads an opposition party bearing that name. She argues that Breakthru has clearly defined goals, which include lifting the sanctions imposed on Drakarino, promoting cooperation between the planet and other independent states, and opening their gates to Drakirian immigration. Breakthru exists, according to her, to promote international human rights, justice, and equality. I possess neither the rhetoric abilities nor the charm that Ms. Aja has, and I don't share her points of view on The Federation's foreign policy. But all of that is irrelevant. It is not the reason why we focus most of our resources and attention on her organization." 

            The next image to appear on the screen was a caricature of Aja, portrayed as the mythical Medusa. Her snake-hairs were concealing swords, poison bottles and what looked like rockets. Her mouth was open, and the words "peace and progress" came out of it. Some of the recruits giggled.

            "That is no laughing matter! Be aware. Breakthru would have been no more than an opposition party without its underground wings. The organization's official activities are used as a platform to fund, organize, and provide juridical support for shadow operations. Smuggling, illegal immigration, money laundering, blackmail, abductions, terrorism… The list goes on and includes every offense in the book, and others that are not yet in it. Breakthru's connections with other organized crime networks are a complex system of reciprocal relations that my intelligence department investigates and documents."

            Maps of the Republics appeared on the screen, and in front of them, secret connections between various organizations stretched across the planet like spider webs. The interactive chart presented many layers of information. As the speaker pointed at a certain area on the map, the webs around it disappeared, leaving a more detailed purple net.

            "As you can see, the net presents the centers of activity for Breakthru's underground wing. It is a detailed map based around evidence collected this year. Unfortunately, despite the great resources that I invest, our operational achievements are not easily reflected in the courts. The party succeeds, again and again, at concealing its connections to Breakthru's illegal activities on the planet. This kind of professionalism can only be achieved by having a strong patron like Drakarino."

The maps disappeared, replaced by an image of a man with a face void of expression. His pale face looked inhuman, far too symmetric, as if formed of wax. The speaker started marching back and forth in front of the audience.

"Aja is a mannequin. The truth is that she effectively has no responsibilities but public relations. The dominant persona in the organization is this man, known as Sollar Lithin. Do not be bothered by not recognizing his face. He keeps away from cameras. A true shadow persona, a man with no past. Nevertheless, there are several things that we managed to find out about him: he was born on Drakarino in a wealthy, powerful family. In other words, he was born into a life of violence and corruption. Like every Drakirian with his social status, he survived several assassination attempts and spilled much blood before reaching his current position. His age is uncertain, somewhere between 32 and 37. He obviously makes an effort to disguise it. Evidence points to a sociopathic persona with sadistic tendencies. A dangerous man indeed, and a great specimen nurtured by the socio-political order in Drakarino. 

"When it comes to Aja, she denies any official ties to Drakarino, but it becomes clear to everybody who examines the scope of activity and number of activists associated with Breakthru that its budget far exceeds any non-profit organization on this planet. The problem is, and always has been, proving it. Our efforts to cut the organization off from its budgetary sources are largely unsuccessful. Of course, the legal war is proceeding, with no end in sight. This means one thing is certain: we must strengthen our field presence. And this is why you're here…"

"Mister Setor! Is anything I said funny to you?"

The speaker's cold glance rested on one of the recruits, a young man with an amused expression, who was whispering something to his fellow beside him. The expression on his round, stubbly face became slightly alarmed.

"No, sir."

"Look around you and remember where you are. Bad discipline is the worst epidemic and it has no place in this fortress."

"Y…Yessir, I understand."

The speaker nodded and continued his lecture.

"I am certain you learned a thing or two about the war in school, so I will be brief. I never aspired to be a great teacher, but I cannot talk about the current international order without reminding you how the age we live in came about. It has not been too long since mankind scattered from its origin, planet Earth, but that sure hasn't taught us to keep out of each other's business. The era of discovery and heroism did not last long, and about the time when the atmospheric conditions on the first colonies were able to sustain immigration, certain states on our planet of origin started showing citizens the door. Some offered generous rewards to prospective colonists; others preferred a tougher approach and started exiling everybody who they didn't fancy at the first opportunity.

"Of course, not all new colonies were willing to open their doors. Our land that we call Neo-Saturn took in quite a lot; Others reached Grimyuan, or Edox Quadro. Those whom nobody else accepted ended up in Drakarino. Drakarino was, and still is, a nasty planet with rough atmospheric conditions that are hardly able to sustain human life, and the colonists took in just about anybody. Chances for survival were slim, and with human resources that were… Well, let us just say that the political order that developed became no more than a platform for power battles, where violence and corruption prevail.

"Despite the difficulties, Drakarino received little outside support. People were too busy taking care of themselves, believing in the virtues of self-sufficiency. Naturally, the colony felt abandoned and deprived of the resources others had, and started investing in the most profitable, quickly growing market: forbidden goods. First, they took over the smuggling market for goods banned in select states, but later they gathered enough courage to launch trade in internationally banned goods. They started producing advanced weaponry and accumulated an impressive capital. The sanctions imposed on international forums were bogus. Everyone boycotted Drakarino, yet behind the scenes everybody continued buying their goods. So, the planet grew and expanded.

"Now, the major conflicts started over new colonies. Drakarino didn't play by the rules. In their defense, nobody fully kept the rules; rules, after all, are hard to enforce in an age of expansion. But Drakarino quarreled with everybody, and the more arms they produced, the more it strayed away from interplanetary codes of conduct.

"The next step was several small states joining Drakarino in secret alliances. From this point, it became clear we were on our way to a total confrontation. We can argue until sunrise how exactly the story unfolded, but the general outline is clear: A Drakirian ultimatum to the Oakes-Petrov Corporation; refusal; Drakirian takeover, followed by a declaration of war by Earth and Saturn. We sustained the biggest casualties, of course, because we showed the strongest resistance. Earth's resistance was sporadic. They were disunited, even somewhat sympathetic to the enemy. In any case, the Drakirians were far more careful on the Planet of Origin with its complex political arrangements and neutral states. Earth neglected their military industry, thus becoming dependent on our arms shipments. We had technologic advantages but severe manpower shortages sent our wartime economy deep underground. Drakarino's illegal weaponry took out our people like flies. After seven months, we had no choice but to declare a one-sided ceasefire. The high command decided to evacuate our forces to Earth, where they could make a bigger impact.

"It was a tough choice, but a correct one. Our technological knowledge coupled with Earth's superior strategic skills turned the tide of the war, and after two years of fighting, the Drakirians were driven away from the territories they occupied on Earth. Another year was required to liberate Saturn. When our forces returned, the saw the price that we had to pay. A price that we still are paying today."

The photos of devastation flashed on the screen. Bombarded factories; Abandoned residential areas; ruins of once magnificent public edifices, a poor reminder of what they had been before the war; contamination that turned vast parts of the republics uninhabitable.

"We recovered since, as well as we could. But I knew the planet will never be as safe as it was before. The ceasefire conditions did not resolve our disputes with Drakarino. Despite restoring our colonies, we remained more or less at the same point where we were before the war. So I organized a group of officers and security experts to discuss the possible solutions to the law and order problems born out of the post-war despair and moral crisis. Under a constitutional act of parliament, we created The Special Unit for Countering Political Crime, SUNCOP. From the very first day I was assigned more work than I could handle. I gradually expanded the unit accordingly. Today, SUNCOP has over ten times more agents than I was initially allocated, with regional departments located in eleven of our fifteen republics."

For the first time, the speaker allowed himself a short, careful smile.

"I hope none of you is here for the money. It is true that I pay more than any other security organization. But I also demand much more. Those of you who successfully complete your examinations this week, think of it well before signing your contracts. Good luck on your final exams."    

Chapter 1

In a wide office, surrounded by thick white walls and a tall ceiling, a man in his forties with greying hair sat behind a large desk. He quickly flipped through newspaper articles, dedicating no more than a couple of seconds to every headline. He spent no time reading commentary, as only news reports deserved his attention. Sounds and videos were attached to articles, but he usually ignored them as well.

            Very few papers received any attention from him. Yellow journalism is useless, containing more ads than content. Culture, entertainment, sports; none of it interested him. But when it came to politics and economics, he knew everything. He must know everything; and clean, precise information was crucial. There were few papers that could provide it, and he chose only the best.

            He was known to most people as Red. An influential, well-dressed man. The only clothes in his closet were uniforms and expensive suits. The cheapest one of them was worth five hundred units.

            His appearance was quite gruesome. A severe injury left his face badly burned and scarred. Despite reconstructive surgery, his skin remained reddish and wrinkled. His blazing eyes were artificial, special lenses that restored his vision after he lost it at an unbearably young age. Nevertheless, he was strong, as healthy as his age allowed him, and stood on his feet. This was far beyond his expectations twenty-four years ago. And yet, he was tired.

            He got used to living with chronic pains and exhaustion. He was using stimulants to overcome sleep deprivation. Clearly, he could not go on like that forever; ultimately, his body would give in to all that pressure. But until then, he must go on. Because nobody else could do his job right.

            Red was the commanding general of SUNCOP, the Special Unit for Countering Political crime, a security agency established to fight against terror organizations and organized crime. Red was one of the officers involved in SUNCOP's foundation, and was its first and only commander, for twenty-three years. He was the highest authority in the unit, the man who says the last word, and sat on his chair for an unlimited tenure, thanks to a unique law making his dismissal virtually impossible.

            His name alone made many people uncomfortable. The popular media was not his friend. Few on Saturn appreciated him for his work, because very few knew what exactly he was doing. Many others felt sick of him; or loathed him.

            For him, this was routine. He chose a hard, unrewarding job, was at peace with the dangers and his shady reputation, and allowed only one force to guide his actions – his personal morals.

            The United Republics of New Saturn, or simply Saturn to its citizens, was a relatively developed and wealthy planet. Its economy was based largely on exports of plentiful raw materials. Politically, it comprised a federation of highly-industrialized states, and its population was relatively large, despite its gloomy atmospheric conditions. An upper class of industrialists and businessmen maintained an isolated existence from the majority of middle and working-class people. Since the war, it had seemed like the class gaps widened, adding to differences in quality of life between different regions of the planet. The biggest cities suffered from crime that the state struggled to control.

            Small criminals never bothered Red. Cleaning the streets was not his goal in establishing SUNCOP; that was what the police were for. His role was to catch the big sharks; sharks that by now reached the size of great blue whales, and they were threatening to swallow the planet whole.

            Red turned off his screen and closed his eyes. He started breathing slowly, trying to clear his mind of thoughts. He was trying for ten minutes, to no avail.

Opening his eyes, he pushed the intercommunications button.

            "Border, please get to my office with any reports available, ASAP."

Inside the enormous compound that served as the SUNCOP headquarters, in a tiny apartment comprised of a bedroom, a bathroom and a kitchen corner, was a young man, wearing shorts and an undershirt.

            The apartment, effectively not much larger than a single room, was identical to hundreds of other agent residences in the compound. To him, this was a home, and even though others would find it odd, he felt more comfortable here than in any other place; he felt like he belonged here.

            His name was Dan; a SUNCOP field agent and a student at the academy. It was a rare arrangement, almost impossible in any other case; SUNCOP employees were not allowed to have additional occupations to their roles in the unit. It was only allowed by a special approval from Red, the commanding general. Nevertheless, Dan did not consider himself particularly lucky in that regard, and preferred to invest more time in his SUNCOP assignments, while neglecting his studies, and causing much displeasure to his father. He was taller than average, with a short black hair and attractive facial features. He was strong and agile, polite, and had a sarcastic sense of humor. He got used to hearing compliments about his great potential, his talents and quick learning abilities. His fast promotions caused other agents to raise their eyebrows in doubt; but the suspicions had no place in his case, because those who knew Dan well enough acknowledged that his talent and successes alone allowed his promotions. And those who knew Red well enough would say the tough commander wouldn’t even promote his own son unless he deserved it.

            Dan's look was fixed on a screen filled with technical information, texts, charts, interactive models. Every little detail was carefully explained. At the screen's edge, the colorful symbol of the Technological Academy of Violetfort was visible, a place that Dan visited no more than several times a month. Virtual lectures were a solution for students who couldn't attend a lesson for whatever reason, but when a student failed to appear in the classroom throughout an entire course, lecturers would consider it irresponsible, sometimes even disrespectful.

            Dan did not agree. The academy was not the place for him. He found it hard to concentrate on the lesson comparing various methods for producing energy, as his mind was set on the almost hopeless battle that Red led against the forces spreading chaos across the planet. The number of detainees brought into the headquarters kept growing, but that had no effect on serious crime, which kept growing.

            The most reasonable decision that he could take right now is to go to bed and compensate for three sleepless nights that he spent conducting field work. But not much time is left until the exam, and he could not afford to fail it.

            Unwillingly, he pulled out a box filled with blister packs. Inside each one, nine tiny chips were neatly packaged. He pulled one of the chips out and placed it on his tongue. Careful not to swallow it, he bit into it, feeling a slight tingling sensation. Then he spat it out into the incinerator.

            He hated using these, but it was a necessity. He knew that without these aids he wouldn't be able to concentrate. Red didn't know that he's using them, and he better not know. He sure wouldn't be happy to hear it, although being angry about it is quite hypocritical of him. Dan knew that he's using more powerful chemical aids than his, with an alarming frequency.

            In a few minutes, Dan felt calmer. His tension faded and the study materiel rearranged itself properly in his head. The words on the screen made sense again. He sighed in relief. For several hours into the night, his blue eyes moved across the screen and the information was absorbed smoothly, free of worries and fears.

The place where Jesse Setor contemplated about his odd destiny was a bench inside an inner courtyard, in an open space with well-tended trees, flowers, and a fountain. The newest recruits at SUNCOP were surprised to discover this island of tranquility at the very heart of the grey concrete headquarters complex. Jesse was disgruntled. He was free again, but only technically. He was allowed to enjoy limited freedom as long as he performed his duties right. It felt like an invisible chain was tied to his leg.

            But there was also an opportunity here. For the first time, he has a job with true responsibility, a challenge, a purpose. He had no place on this planet; everywhere he went, he could expect nothing but pointless arguments, never-ending threats and dramas, like living in a movie by a lousy director. The planet is utterly rotten, he thought. If only he was born on planet Earth… Everything is different there. An extraordinary person like him wouldn't need to waste his life hopping back and forth between the dirty streets and the slammer.

            He passed his hand through his hair, feeling what's still left of it. He missed his long red hair. But the hair was deep in the past now. 

            "Giosèran?"

            He turned around. Behind him was an agent his own age, smiling politely. Jesse stood up and shook his hand.

            "That's my name. But only on official documents. Don't like it, it's too Saturnian; Everybody calls me Jesse."

            "I'm Dan. Red said you're partnered with me now and that I should make sure you're all set for action."

            "Alright." Jesse nodded. He examined the young man standing in front of him. "To be honest, I expected someone… Nevermind."

            "Older." Dan smiled. "I'm sure you'll find out I'm as good an instructor as the more experienced agents here."

            "Don't be offended. I just didn't expect that from Red, you know…" He shrugged without finishing his sentence.

            "He said you're here on probation."

            "Yes. If I make any trouble, they throw me back in jail."

            "How did you end up there in the first place?"

            Jesse was surprised. Why is he asking that? Red must have told him. Exaggerated tact? Or is he interested in hearing his version of what happened?

            "I helped my friends rob a bank."

            Dan chuckled. "Some friends. And how many years did you get?"

            "Twelve."

            "Uh-huh. Then how did you end up in here?"
            "I got into a fight."

            "And then they decided that you're too dangerous for the other prisoners and that only SUNCOP can keep you in order."

            "Sort of."

            "Well, it could have been worse." Dan yawned and took Jesse's spot on the bench.

            Jesse felt a bit baffled by Dan's apathetic response. "Wasn't my fault." he insisted. "They attacked me. I was defending myself."

            "And you came out unharmed?"

            "Some scratches, some bruises. Those idiots ended up with broken bones."

            "I understand that the robbery wasn't your fault, either."

            "No. Not my idea, at least. I was pressured to go along with it. I was a fool and I regret it. That's why I'm on parole."

            "You cooperated with the investigators. That's why the other convicts wanted to break your teeth."

            "Hmph. Why would you ask if Red already told you everything?"

            "He hasn't. Didn't bother explaining too much, he only told me to hold you on a short leash. The rest are my deductions."

            Jesse looked at him with contempt. Dan seemed calm, almost indifferent. His disinterested gaze wandered between Jesse and the trees around him. What a pretentious attitude…

            "I don't owe you anything." Jesse mumbled. "I do things my own way. I'm here by my own free will."

            "Excellent. As long as you make sure this is indeed the case and you're not just convincing yourself."

            "I have my ways to convince people of my seriousness."

            "I'm at your service. You can try and convince me at the hand-to-hand combat arena on the third floor."

            Dan looked serious this time. He stood up, waiting for an answer. Jesse didn't expect such a development, but decided to play along. If this place is going to be his home for the next five years, he'd better start establishing his status here as fast as possible.

            "Alright. Give me half an hour and I'll be ready."

Hand-to-hand combat training at SUNCOP was performed in battle suits, that were also used by agents on their field work. The suits combined offensive and defensive functions, adding power to body movements while blocking shocks from enemy attacks. These black suits were designed by the newest developments and standards that Red acquired from the army. The only identifying marks on them were silver-colored emblems of The Federation, on both sleeves at a shoulder's height: a sphere surrounded by three wide rings.

            Jesse felt odd the first time he wore the suit. He never wore uniform before, besides the prison garbs. He felt different, like another person. For the first time he felt like he belonged to something bigger and more important than himself, and something about it felt right.

            "Do you want to take score?" Dan pointed at the control box of their arena. The arena was only a small part of a larger gym on their floor.

            "A real battle keeps no score. You fight until your rival falls."

            "You have the right attitude."

            They took their places and Jesse attacked first. He delivered an array of swift punches. Dan dodged easily, repelling the hits without miss. He stepped carefully in the ring, waiting for his rival to make a wrong move. Not long passed until that happened, and as Jesse strayed from his pace, Dan hit his abdomen. The strong shock pushed him back. Dan proceeded to land more punches, and Jesse struggled to block them before retreating away and taking a moment to recover.

            When he attacked again, he was more cautious, trying to identify gaps in Dan's defense. He failed to find them, and was hit more by not focusing on his own defense. Jesse felt that he was losing energy, and tried to kick his opponent's legs. His kick was swiftly blocked, and a second later Dan's powerful kick knocked Jesse off his feet.

            Dan gave him a hand, helping him stand up again.

            On the second round, Dan switched to offense. Jesse managed to deliver some hits, but was hit more. This was when he realized that Dan is matching his fighting pace to his. He's not even making an effort. This annoyed him. Focusing the energy still left in him, he attacked Dan with aggressive, rapid punches. As Dan was blocking, Jesse leaped at him, trying to take him down. To his astonishment, the leap and his weight advantage weren't enough; Dan dodged and then pushed him to the ground, holding him down with his hands behind his head. Dan's hold was as painful as it was humiliating. When Dan released him, Jesse got up, breathing heavily.

            For the third round, Jesse decided to wait. Two can play this game, and he let his opponent take the initiative. Dan moved forward without hesitating. Within a single step's distance, he jumped high into the air, with acrobatic skill, and missed Jesse's head as he dodged by only an inch. Jesse managed to hit him with a counter-kick, flinging him several feet away. Dan recovered quickly but not fast enough, and his opponent gained a chance to punch away at him as his blocks failed. Dan was hit hard but stayed standing, and as Jesse exhausted his energy, started striking back.

            The battle continued for several more minutes. Sometimes it seemed Dan is losing his advantage, but he didn't leave an opportunity for Jesse to rest. Jesse's defenses weakened, while Dan's strikes stayed equally fierce. Jesse lost his breath, and the next punch in his chest made him crash down on the floor, breathing heavily. For a moment, his vision faded.

            "Have you had enough?"

            "Alright… you won." He coughed.

            Dan helped him to his feet once more. Jesse took another minute to pull himself together.

            "May the devil take you! Where did you learn to fight like that?"

            "It takes a lot of practice."

            Jesse couldn't believe what happened. He was barely trying! When Jesse was one of the best fighters in his class… Back in the Arches Quarter nobody dared mess with him…

            "Now I start getting why Red teamed you up with me."

            "Don't be surprised. You're in SUNCOP now. Standards here are higher than the ones you got used to."

            "Can't argue with that. Now when I consider it, I don't know why… but it somehow makes me feel… Reassured?"

            Dan folded his hands over his chest. "If that is the case, you're in the right place."

            A deep feminine voice was heard behind them. "Quite a good battle, Dan! Your new partner knows how to fight." A tall, muscular woman with a short haircut, wearing short training clothing passed by them on her way out, without waiting for a response, and winking at Dan.

            Jesse's gaze followed her figure until she left the gym.

            "Who is she?"

            "Claire. One of the top-ranked field agents here. Extraordinary abilities. Sparred with her three times, lost every one of them quite quickly. I advise that you keep your distance."

            Jesse bent over, checking how much he is in pain. Not too bad, he decided. He took worse beatings than this.

            "Hey Dan… What would you say if we sat down to discuss our new partnership in a… Less formal environment?"

            "I think that it's a great idea."

The research center reserved for professor Globe by Red was in a hidden quarter of the HQ that permitted access for authorized persons only. Most of the workers and agents were unaware of its existence.

            Mercury Globe was running around for two years seeking out funding for his artificial intelligence research. The field enjoyed a considerable interest in universities; but even though five years passed since the Duncan-Wenger Law, that forbade any research in the field, was repealed, investors weren't too eager about it. Everybody was certain that the law would be reintroduced following the same trend of accidents and public opposition. After two years of rejections from both private investors and state organizations, Globe, a leading expert in robotics, was penniless and almost reached the conclusion that his brain would be just as useful smeared across his department's floor at Sectosec University.

            His salvation came from an unexpected place. He was sitting in his lonely flat, wondering where to go when the phone rang. On the other side he heard an authoritative voice calling from an unidentified number. He was told that SUNCOP is interested in his research and was invited to a meeting at the HQ. There, the enigmatic commander Red waited for him and was brief in his explanation. He promised him a wage much higher than the university could afford to pay, but made him sign a contract that required secrecy and absolute loyalty to his demands. Red's conditions made Globe grit his teeth; but the alternative was bankruptcy, so he signed the contract with a shaking hand.

            Now he was sitting in the laboratory especially designed for him and worked on constructing a multi-functional robot, the biggest and most complex project that he ever undertook. He employed only five other experts that assisted him. If it was possible, he would have worked alone, but insufficient knowledge in certain fields demanded involving more people in the project. Red was a tough, but fair employer. He severely reprimanded Globe when he failed to show him clear signs of progress, and nevertheless paid in time and paid him well, usually without disturbing his work.

            The project continued for two years, and was nearing completion. Globe took no vacations. D.R.B. Prototype 1, as he called it, was a first of its kind multi-functional robot, a breakthrough in the field of artificial intelligence. Armed with some of the most advanced weapon systems, it was built to make decisions as fast a human, thanks to the vast database of information available for analysis and application at the speed of light.

            If the project succeeds and is accepted in Saturn's conservative society, he could be a billionaire. Otherwise… He didn't like to think of what would happen otherwise.

            Red generally visited the laboratory himself to check the progress of his project. He often emphasized that it was his project, not Globe's, making the professor uncomfortable, but reminding him of his priorities.

            "Professor! You look awful." As usual, Red walked in unannounced.  "Look at yourself! When was the last time you slept? Do you think I'll give you any bonuses for it? Go to sleep now!"

            Globe smiled. He was indeed very tired. But the commander liked to taunt him.

            "I think I lost the sense of time, Mr. Justice. It is hard to tell if it's day or night in this place."

            "There is an invention that could help you with that. It's called a watch, ever heard of it? Very useful! Progress report, go."

            "The project is in its final stage. Weapon systems are in order. The armor is still incomplete. I'm waiting for the delivery of Zinmarium from Ironhill."

            Red frowned. He did not seem happy to hear about the professor trading with Ironhill using SUNCOP's budget, right under his nose.

            "You know my opinion about trading with that planet."

            "Yes, but this is a legal and transparent transaction. The company has a federal mark of credibility. You are also aware of the monopoly the planet has on production of high-quality Zinmarium."
            "Is there no local alternative to Zinmarium?"

            "I'm afraid not. The technology won't work in a satisfying manner if the armor won't incorporate Zinmarium."

            Red nodded. He wasn't convinced, but he couldn't reprimand the professor for not taking his political views into account.

"I want you to consult me the next time regarding this kind of business. Remember to update me regularly on your progress."

"Have a nice day, Mr. Justice."

The professor looked at Red as he was walking away. Notwithstanding his balding head and less than impressive height, he was trying to hide all signs of his age. He walked quickly, his back was stiff, his hands intertwined behind it. Globe heard of some medical conditions that Red suffered from; chronic back pains was one of them.

He avoided undergoing the extensive treatment that he required, resorting to painkillers, a temporary solution that became a routine. That's how he was, suffering quietly, hiding his problems, never allowing them to distract him from his work.

Jesse pushed his way to the bar through the crowd inside the dance club. Dan followed in his footsteps, keeping some distance from him. Jesse pointed at two empty seats by the bar. The loud music made it difficult to hear anything.

"Jesse!" A blonde-haired young woman welcomed him at the bar with her mouth wide-open in surprise.

"Well, hello there!" They hugged each other and Jesse sat down by her side.

"How are you here? I thought you're in jail!"

"Not anymore, as you can see."

"You bastard! Should have known you won't stay there for long."

"Lori, this is my friend, Dan." He turned a switch on the bar and the music around them became softer.

"Nice to meet you, Dan, I'm Lori." She smiled.

"Nice to meet you too." Dan smiled back.

"Dan is a security man, a SUNCOP agent."

Lori pretended to be impressed, but Dan was quick to deny.

"No, no. He's joking. I'm just an ordinary student at Violetfort."

"Don't be modest, Dan. Lori really appreciates the people watching over us. Don't you, Lori?"

She nodded. Her glance examined Dan from head to toe. He felt somewhat uncomfortable.

"Enough, Jesse. That's not necessary. I'm a student, I study energy."

"Well… If that's what you're saying, who am I to argue?" Jesse laughed and ordered the three of them a round of drinks.

Dan gulped down his drink in a minute, turned away from the bar, and started looking around the club. Beyond the crowd, he noticed a man standing in the corner. Occasionally, people from the crowd came over to him, and it appeared like he is handing them something. Jesse was chatting with the young woman, but her gaze sometimes wandered off to Dan, who paid no attention to her.

There was something hypnotizing about the rhythmic movement of the crowd to the loud music, the flashing lights, the shapes and the holographic figures appearing above the dancers' heads. They live the moment, when the outside world does not exist; the big city, the republics, the politics. Nothing but the music mattered here. Music was reality, and with their consciousness clouded by the wonders of modern alchemy, they had no doubt that what they experienced here was the truth.

"Am I right, Dan?" Jesse turned his face to him.

"What? Hmmm… Sorry, I wasn't listening. Please excuse me, there's something I need to do."

"I see. Be careful there." Jesse laughed and turned back to Lori.

Dan crossed the dance floor towards the suspicious person in the corner. His colorful clothing and beard made him easy to recognize. Not even trying to blend in the crowd, Dan thought. As if he has nothing to fear.

"Do you have anything to offer me?"

"Depends. What do you want?"

"Something strong. The strongest you have."

"I have Grumo. One pill, and you'll be off for about three hours. It has a good effect, as long as you're not a paranoid."

"I was thinking of something more special than that."

"Like what?"

Dan looked around, making sure no one is eavesdropping on them.

"Red vinegar."

"That's expensive stuff. You don't really need it. Take some Grumo, it will do the job."

"Grumo is not my thing. I've got the money. Do you have any or are you wasting my time?"

"Three hundred for seventy milliliters. Show me the money."

"How can I tell you're not pulling my leg? Show it to me first."

The bearded man pulled out a vial with a red liquid from one of the pockets in his colorful jacket. He opened the lid and raised the vial to Dan's nose. A bitter, sharp odor was coming from it.

"This smells diluted. You must take me for an idiot."

"Pure Erdusin. My word. Don't want it, don't buy it."

He was about to return the vial to his pocket when Dan snatched it from his hand. Dan launched his leg forward, and before the bearded man could even make a sound of protest, he was already in a horizonal state, while Dan was tying his hands with handcuffs that he pulled seemingly out of nowhere.

"By force of my authority as a SUNCOP officer, I am arresting you under the charge of selling illegal, dangerous drugs. Any attempt to resist arrest… Well, don't even try it."

The dancing in the club stopped, and in a minute, everybody stared at Dan and his arrestee, being led by him towards the exit. Jesse left his friend and chased after them as soon as he realized what was happening.

"Dan, what the hell are you… What are you doing? You're not even on duty!"

"A SUNCOP agent is always on duty. I'm not going to allow our friend here sell Drakirian poison to our finest boys and girls."

"That's not something you do! They won't let us in here again!"

"Not the worst disaster, if you ask me."

Dan pushed a button on a bracelet on his left arm, generating a hologram with his agent's card in front of him. He showed it to the doorman who blocked his exit. Despite the arrestee's protests, the doorman moved away after seeing Dan's certificate.

"That's not how I thought tonight would end." Jesse sighed as they were leaving. "Definitely not so fast."

"Sorry. Should have told you that's not my favorite way to spend an evening in advance."

Dan pushed his prisoner, who refused to walk fast enough and wouldn't stop swearing.

"Don't worry darling, we won't keep you for long. We just need you to tell us who sold you the Erdusin. Once this is done, we transfer you to the police, and they'll decide what to do with you."