Realms of Sci-Fi

The Barkers

The library was lavish and comfortable with richly colored cherry wood on the walls and soft leather covering the overstuffed chairs. The fireplace crackled softly in the background behind the ticking of the large clock dominating the opposing wall. The eastern wall was nothing but a circular window looking out over the clouds of the upper atmosphere. In the distance far below, the speckled browns of the city of Smithhaven could be seen, small puffs of white emanating from the various smoke stacks of the factories.

Attired in a dark suit matching the brown of the chair in which he sat, Darius Belford looked across the rim of his teacup at his guests, appraising them with a critical eye. After a moment of silence and a careful sip of the hot liquid, he set the cup down on its matching saucer with a soft clink.

"So, what brings you to me?" Darius asked.

"As you may or may not be aware, Anvil Forge Traders has been having trouble with our shipments," said the man to Darius' left, introduced earlier as Mr. Caruthers, head of business operations for Anvil Forge Traders. Caruthers removed his monocle for a moment and polished it with a handkerchief he pulled from the front pocket of his black, pinstripe suit. "Our investigations have only been able to determine that those responsible are the Benjo."

"Indeed?" Darius questioned. "Why would the Benjo raid your airships? They've never ventured north of the Southern Spires, and no one has bothered them in their homeland. What's changed?"

While waiting for a response, Darius leaned over and dipped a knife into a jar of Bit O' Jam, spreading the strawberry paste on a piece of buttered toast. He took a bite of the toast with a satisfying crunch and chewed it slowly while considering the situation.

"We're unconcerned about their reasons for becoming savage, and frankly, we don't really have the time to care," answered the second of his two guests. Founder of Anvil Forge Traders, Milton Kleinfeld's graying hair and full mustache gave him the look of an old man, but the fire in his green eyes showed he'd lost none of the tenacity he'd possessed in his youth. "The Benjo are taking lives and cargo, and we're hoping your organization can stop it."

"The Barkers are explorers and adventurers, not an army," Darius countered after swallowing his bite of toast.

"Most of your people are former military," Milton pointed out. "We'll pay all costs plus one hundred thousand. One way or another, these raids must end if we're to stay in operation."

Darius wiped his fingers and mouth with a white linen while hiding his excitement. No one but the Benjo had ever fully explored beyond the Southern Spires, and the chance to investigate the unknown while removing a force of pirates was too good to pass up.

"Gentlemen," Darius said as he stood. "We accept your offer and will start at once. The Barkers are at your service."