Demoran glistens in the morning sun. G Grimmock Pulutra stands at the expanse of windows before his throne, eyes darting about the southern lands. His belly rests against the ornate carved stone, occuluding the mixture of gemstones nestled inside. Ahead of him, dawn casts its fingers wide over the plains and distant mountains. Faint shadows of caravans and groups traversing the lands point west as the sun creeps over the edge of the world. Grimmock chuckles with a rumbling from his belly as a crow and cardinal dance in the windows outside. “A bad omen.” The voice echos in the air, sounding of stones hard pressed and drawn across one another. Grimmocks eyes dart to the right, but he does not give away the trembling in his eyes. “How so, Shadow?” Grimmocks eyes return for the aerial display. The smaller and agile cardinal flits and dives impacting three crow, but the midnight black feathers seem unruffled. “A cardinal and a single crow. The battle beteeen hope and death.” Shadow leans his thick arms toward and rests the full length of his beard outside the window, and his chin into the palms of his hands. “The eternal struggle l, not one too many don’t think to see as the inevitability of death.” The course was of his voice halts as a smirk appears beneath the salt and paper beard in his face. He leans further forward to watch as the cardinal begins its descent, having lost in its daring battle against the crow. “ I see. Though to some a single crow is an omen of change. Or good luck. “. Grimmock steps are labored, size battling against his very movement. His waddle carries him back to the thone where he hoists his ample rump back o to the seat. “Perhaps this is a sign of good things to come.” “Irony that you’d look to the south and see hope. Greater dancers loom in the north, Steward. “. Shadows voice is raspy, ominous tones leading his turn toward the throne. “Some would argue that there is greater dangers alredy in Demoran, Theif. “. Grimmocks tone stops the Shadows approach. He raises a heavy brow, a moment lost before resuming his steps. Arriving at the throne, hr rest and elbow on the stone arm rest and pat’s the belly of the steward like a dog welcoming his master home. “And might you be amongst these “some” of which you speak, steward? I feel as though after all this time, and all the rewards you’ve consumed from our endeavors, that you’d be wise to avoid such … accusations. “. Grommock winces as a small blade slides through the silk fineries and bites into the tender skin of his stomach. Blood begins to pool in the silk and darken the deep green robes. “Of course not friend. But to what do I owe this pleasurable visit?” Grimmocks done rattles out of his throat, his hands reach to apply pressure to the wound. “The threat to the north. And a favor to the south. There is much work to be done. “ the shadows voice flattens, uncommonly cold like the air that suddenly ripples in through the southernmost windows.

Brady was back again, standing on the sidewalk outside the old cottage with his bag at his feet, but this time the bag was an expensive titanium suitcase and his feet were shod with expensive and warm boots. He was a long way from the twelve year old orphan who had been dumped here by an overworked social worker so many years ago; thirty years to be exact. He took a deep breath, taking in the smell of the pines that bordered the property and noting that the caretaker had kept the old place in excellent care. The smell of a log fire enveloped him, and he stood there almost expecting Aunt Mattie to open the door and yell at him to come in, it was cold outside.

Mattie was gone; had been buried a few years ago and this small cottage and his memories of the old woman who had stepped up to raise him were all that remained. His life had gone places that poor young boy could never have envisioned in his wildest dreams, but now Brady needed a place to disappear for a while. He longed to figure out why he was so unhappy with his life given he had everything he had ever imagined and even more than that. So here he was, back in Wellmore, back in the cottage, back to where he had run away from. The time would come in the next days when he would find Mimi and they would talk and he would face the demons, but for now the fire called to him and he needed quiet and rest.

Then he’d work it all out. Maybe.

Vast whiteness stretched out like a blank page. Percolating with excitement, Myrtle Two Axes sat upright in the hover sedan, afraid to wrinkle her new uniform. Looking out the vehicle windows, she was reminded of the vintage postcards of deserts back on Olde Earth. As a little girl she had liked the dizzying colors of the tropics and feared the dark of the thick forests. As she grew older Myrtle was drawn to oceans of sand with life hidden in its secrets. Cold and bright these were the words that summed up Enceladus. She was in awe. Myrtle had spent so much time weaving the innumerable joys of their new home to get her son Django excited about their move that Myrtle had begun to believe her own stories. The reality of this moon was a strange thing.
She returned to the view whizzing past. The horizon was a taut rubber band. There were no trees, no bushes, no clouds, no liquid water. The landscape was an unturned clear face of ice with eruptions of large bluish domes. There was domes of emerald green hydroponic farms and suburbs. Androids built the houses that would one day become the dream homes of the future. When they were landing on this moon, her son dubbed it Planet Fishbowl and pulled on his headphones. Myrtle swallowed down her lump of regret.
Then she did what she always did. She began making lists. What do I know? They wanted me here. The Board of Regents had reached out to her directly asking her to apply to the Chief of Police position for the new colony. The interview process went smoothly. She knew the local crime stats and resources available to her department. The salary was generous, the housing, pleasant. The Governor had greeted Django and her at the station and the Chair of Lightbearer Mines had sent her a honest to God basket of fruit. Myrtle had researched and researched. She knew everything that could be known about her new job except why did they want her here?
The hover had stopped. She had arrived. Myrtle didn’t know how long she had been siting lost in thought but the vehicle’s NavSat voice sounded a little impatient. She approached the primary sealed doors and was scanned. Noiselessly, a series of metallic doors slid open for her. The building had the vibe of warehouse that had been recently renovated as a high end hotel. She strode into the Security Central Complex. A desk sergeant smiled up at Myrtle from her desk. Welcome to Planet Fishbowl, she thought. In her dress blacks with her hat tucked under her arm, Myrtle smiled back. Police officers and detectives 
“Long time,” a familiar voice rang out behind her.
The politeness drained from her lips. Myrtle steeled her spine and slowly turned to face the last person she had ever expected to meet again.
Myrtle said, “No see.”