Hunting Wolfe

Earth Records

Just five doors down, our attention is drawn to a modest plaque engraved with 'Darlona, Earth Records.' The gleam of artificial light dances off its surface, giving the impression of having been polished by a careful hand, not long ago. "Do you mind if I go first?" I ask Caydon. He doesn't answer, just holds out his left hand and steps back. I pause, one hand on the doorknob, and take a deep breath. This is it, I'm finally going to learn of Wolfe's fate. Be it good or bad, I will finally know.

"You okay, Rain?" Aceon asks, laying one hand on my right shoulder.

"Yeah. It's just...what if it's bad news?" I ask, staring at the door. "What if, my journey to find Wolfe ends here? Then what?"

"Then you will have an answer...you will have closure."

"But, without the hunt for my brother, who am I? This desire to find out what happened to Wolfe has consumed the past three years of my life. Without it, I'm lost, without a purpose."

"So, you will do like everyone else who's journey comes to an end."

"And what's that?"

"You will find a new purpose."

"It's not that easy, Ace."

"Isn't it, though? When I left the CIAS I couldn't imagine what I would fill my time with. I spent the last two hundred and fifty years of my life serving my people. I found a new purpose and so will you."

"What purpose is that?"

"Originally, I had planned on meeting a nice woman, getting married and having ten or twelve children. But then my youngest sister calls me and tells me she needs a favor. And she begins to describe her best friend, her honorary sister, who is on a mission to find her missing brother. How could I say no to that?"

"I hate to cut all this mushy business short," Caydon interrupts, "but we are in a time crunch. Remember the men hunting you down? We may have lost them temporarily, but they will find us, again."

Aceon's hand slips gently from my shoulder, and i once again take a deep breath, taking in the stale, controlled air. The door swings open into a small 10 x 10 room that greets me with an almost palpable plainness. Its stark, antiseptic environment mirrors the corridors outside, their harsh, artificial lights glaring against the pristine floors. However, an attempt to infuse some warmth is noticeable. The walls come alive with photographs of people and places, each frame a burst of vitality. To my right, a desk cradles a collection of these pictures, and more are perched atop an antiquated, cumbersome computer.

Lush, green plants dangle down, their tendrils softening the room's sterile edges, and a plush pink rug binds harmoniously with the gently draped pink curtains. The jarring contrast nudges my attention toward a small woman partially concealed behind her computer. Locks of brown hair fall around her face, echoing the deep color of her inquisitive eyes that glance above the display. A steady tapping breaks the silence, as her long, crimson nails rhythmically drum upon the desk.

"You have a window in here?" I ask, my voice filled with a mix of curiosity and surprise.

A face peers at me from behind the old computer. "No, of course not!"

"But the curtains..."

"Are simply there to add a homier feel to this office. It was too clinical, too stuffy. How they expect a person to work in such conditions is beyond me." She waves one hand around as she talks.

"But they are moving!"

"Artificial wind." Caydon whispers.

The little woman sighs heavily. "Oh honey, you haven't left Earth before today, have you?"

"I've been to the moon!" I say defensively.

"The Lunar Station? The one where military people go to catch a shuttle here?"

"Yes."

"Pft. That doesn't count. Let me tell you something. They discovered a long time ago, the powers to be mind you... that if they wanted to increase productivity, they had to make people feel as if the real world lay just beyond their little 10 x 10 office. They added holographic windows and artificial wind. It wasn't the greatest help in the world, but combined with my," she waves her hand once more, "homey touches, I feel like I'm still back on Earth." She closes her eyes and breathes in deeply. "They even added that dirt scent you can smell."

"Are you Darlona?" Aceon asks in a gruff voice.

"What?" she asks, opening her eyes. "Who wants to know?"

"Of course she's Darlona," Caydon says, "Who else would be locked up in this office?"

"Yes, I'm she. Why? Why are you here? What do you want?"

"I'm looking for my brother. He went MIA about three years ago. I just need to know where he was sent." I say.

"I'm awfully sorry to hear that but I'm afraid you wasted your time. I can't help you. Now, please leave." Darlona says.

"But I..." What does she mean she can't help? Everyone says she can.

"Take a left, then another left, and hit the elevators." She disappears behind her computer again, and I can hear the steady clicking of fingernails on a keyboard.

"We are not leaving until you help us." Aceon says.

"Goodbye." She says.

"Help us now..."

The clicking stops and she peers around the computer. "Or what?" Aceon doesn't answer, choosing instead to stare her down. "Do I look afraid of you, big boy? I may be shorter than all three of you, but your idle threats don't frighten me."

"No, no, we aren't interested in a fight." Caydon says, throwing up his hands to indicate surrender. "And he, will be quiet from now on. I promise."

"Fine. Because if he speaks again, we are done talking." She glares at Aceon.

"Look, we heard from Zardonia that you could help."

"Oh, Zardonia, sent you." She's quiet for a moment. "Zardonia is a good woman, helped me out of many a tough situation. But it doesn't change the fact that I can't help. There's a passcode locking all private information. If I'm not transcribing information, the files are locked."

"Oh." I say disappointed. "Guess I'll never find out what happened to my brother."

"Would it happen to be a six-digit passcode?" Caydon asks.

"Yes. How did you know?"

"Would it be, 654631?"

"I don't know. I would need the service member's name and year of enlistment, first. And then I could attempt that code. I only get one try. If it's wrong, then I get a phone call from my boss asking why I'm snooping."

"It's Wolfe Johnson. Year 2543."

"Fine. But only because I owe Zardonia a favor." She starts talking so fast I can't understand her. The fingernails resume their clicking on the keyboard and in a moment, she asks, "What was that number, again?"

"654631." Caydon says.

"That's it." She says. "Now give me a moment to read over his records."

"How did you know that number?" I whisper.

"That military guy, Aceon won over. As we walked away he called it out. Figured it was important, so I memorized it. Guess it was a good thing I did."

"Okay, let's see, he was sent to...oh..." she trails off.

"What?" I ask.

"He was sent to Tenebris." She responds.

"What's that?" I ask.

"A planet with only four hours of daylight, and twenty-four of darkness."