They were on the road this time because, George said, it was the wagon route for the silica shipments. They met the wagons of their entourage at the junction where the road turned to Manley City. Everyone gathered in George’s tent that night while he recounted the events in the village. As promised, he left out the private business details. But he did mention they found the source of the pernicious democracy teaching. He explained it was critical he and Fortis pursue the leads.
This meant going to the capital city to consult some officials. Lisa smiled at the idea of returning to her childhood home, where her parents had immigrated before she was born. The twins were happy to be back on their assigned duty, with possible adventure in the offing. As Lisa busied herself with domestic chores, the four men stepped outside.
They climbed a nearby hilltop and sat in small circle in the tall grass.
“So we have thus far,” George was counting on his fingers. “An apparent ranger captain trying to get off-planet. He spouts this nonsense about democracy and centralized government. But nobody knows who he is, and the rangers deny missing any captains.
“Further, this fellow flew on a glider, and added a balloon fired with hydrogen cylinders. The glider included reeds, which we can’t explain, but apparently grow somewhere on Misty. We know there are some parts of Misty not too well explored except by the rangers who take prisoners out to the North Islands.
“We have a fellow who has for quite some time been delivering the highest grade silica ore on the planet to a Manley glass plant. Richard says it was a family connection through some aunt, and has been going on for as long as he can remember, so that’s at least fifty years. None of the other mines come even close, and no new ores have been discovered for mining in over a hundred years.
“Somebody previously employed at said glass plant was exposed in depth to the democracy garbage. Seems he got his hands on a military computer device left by the last foreign visitor to Misty before Fortis. The technician probably went to the North Islands, but we don’t know. We should be able to get something on him from the sheik’s archives.”
They sat silently for a few minutes. It was Stanley who spoke, “Something in the North Islands is not what we have been told.”
Fortis and George stared at Stanley, then each other.
Three days later, George was earnestly explaining why it was so vitally necessary he access the clan archives without disturbing the sheik. The official in green and dark red robes was having none of it. However, he allowed there was no need for a formal introduction and so forth. He left George waiting a few minutes, ducking behind a curtain of the tent which stood as vestibule over the one stone building in the city. A moment later he wordlessly motioned George alone to follow him.
Fortis replayed the known facts in his mind repeatedly, but nothing new would rise from his intuition. It was not simply gaps in the data, but very large gaps. There was no apparent pattern from which to extrapolate. The only thing was the obvious conclusion the rangers were hiding something. Somehow, it didn’t help to make the hour go by any faster, and the twins seemed almost asleep on their feet.
When George emerged, he had bundle wrapped in dark green fabric. He paused, staring back at the curtain through which he had emerged. His face was a complete blank. After some moments, he turned without a word or gesture and walked back in the direction they had come from the outlying village for visitor’s tents.
For the longest time, George sat staring at the bundle in his lap, sitting in a folding chair under an awning extension on his tent. Finally, he called Fortis and the twins to him. He motioned for them to pull their chairs up close. He rolled back a part of the cover, exposing a black fabric.
“I’ve been commissioned to investigate the ranger station up the coast a ways. Evidently the Council had planned for such a thing.” He covered the black fabric again. “Do you recall, Fortis, I told you I didn’t know all the Council knew?”
Fortis nodded.
“Part of that was no knowing why my own clan was under suspicion. It began to seem reasonable when I realized this strange business might be connected to our glass plant. What I didn’t know was the same fellow who brought the ore would then disappear with a ship load of food and other goods, but nobody registered his trading anywhere else.”
“So he was the go-between for some secret supplier of the silica ore, exchanging it for food and common goods,” Fortis volunteered.
“And” — with some emphasis — “he was the third generation doing this same thing,” George explained.
“And,” Fortis mocked gently with a smile, “our thief was three generations ago.”
George grinned. “The thief disappeared from the records when he was turned over to the rangers.” He paused a moment. “Along with a female prisoner shipped out at the same time.” Another pause. “A very naughty young woman caught in adultery. Her intended husband exercised his right to plea for clemency. Seems he was utterly smitten by this very pretty girl. The rangers didn’t report them dead, or lost or anything at all. No other clan received them on probation.”
“A breeding pair. But does that justify auditing the rangers?” Fortis asked.
“We have records of missing equipment. But the records we have for that ranger station don’t collate. It’s not at all rare to lose stuff on the rough passage between two ends of the desert belt to the North Islands, but it appears someone has made changes to the equipment records to hide a pattern. Instead, we have a much larger pattern which is broken.” George held up one finger. “And some of it was recent.”
“So maybe if we see the original records, it will help us clear up this disturbing business of flying rangers nobody knows,” Fortis smirked. More sedately, “Assuming I’m included.”
George stood up. “Boys, the recruiting mission has been suspended. I still need some alien expertise,” looking pointedly at Fortis, “and our bodyguards.” The twins smiled.
