Gareth St. John Dankworth. Field Agent of the Earth Force Sky Patrol.
Gods, that sounded awesome. And looked even better. He had finally made it. He was a Field Agent now. Lawman extraordinaire. Respected across the entire Solar System.
Gareth stared again at his reflection in the wall mirror of his quarters. He was at The Arsenal, Sky Patrol’s base in the Earth/Moon L2 point, over beyond the dark side of the moon. Affectionately called Shadow Base One.
His new uniform was amazing. Still the black riding boots and white hotpants of a Sky Patrol Agent, but now his maroon tunic finally said Field Agent. Three white rings around the big, stylized SP in the center of his chest, offset by gold buttons up both sides of the bib and the gold wing-protectors on his shoulders like short fins.
He tugged the tunic down a little, settling it a little tighter beneath the black, Sam Brown belt. He ran a hand back through his curly, blond hair, just getting long enough to blow in the wind, so it was probably time to get it shorn again, as it had reached the maximum length that the regulations allowed.
Field Agent.
Damn, he looked good.
Best of all, he could finally propose to Philippa, after they had both waited for so long, both of them staying chaste and pure, until he could make it all the way to Field Agent and they could be married. Gareth reached a hand down into his pocket and pulled out the tiny, leather pouch he kept with him at all times.
From inside, he extracted the gold ring with the single, white diamond in the middle, surrounded by ruby and gold stones representing Sky Patrol. Tonight was the night. He’d catch a shuttle over to the Earth/Moon L1 point in an hour. She was working as a research assistant for her father these days, at Earth Force Headquarters, so it would be easy enough to take her aside after dinner, during a walk along the Promenade overlooking the Moon’s bright side, and propose to her properly.
He was a Field Agent now. All that waiting would be over, and they could finally become man and wife.
He smiled at the ring, tucking it back into the pouch and stashing it in his pocket.
Not long now.
A sound brought his head up.
It was a strange humming sound, almost imperceptible, hovering right at the point of audibility. Almost as if a fly was trying to sneak around the room behind him, but wasn’t succeeding.
Gareth looked all directions with a concerned scowl on his face. He was in his personal quarters at The Arsenal. Nobody ever came in except the cleaning crew, so the room was as pristine as his bunk had always been in school, bed made so taut that a shilling coin could bounce a foot high.
Except that the room had taken on a golden hue. Odd.
There was nothing wrong with the lights. They still put out the perfect, crisp white of the fifth generation organic diodes, but the air itself was turning golden.
Bizarre.
And now something faded into existence across the room, like a film of fog melting, only run in reverse. This mirage appeared to be the source of the gold, and it was growing, both in size and intensity.
Panic woke up at the back of Gareth’s brain. He had always been noted for his bravery and leadership, but today, those parts of his mind seemed to be having second thoughts. There was no science he could think of that explained a portable whirlpool suddenly appearing in the air in the middle of his cabin.
Maybe it was time to do something.
A wind came up suddenly, inside his cabin at the center of a space station, ruffling his hair as greedy fingers began to pluck at his soul.
His soul?
Very much not good.
Gareth sprang into action, like the hero he had always been. He raced to the door, keying the internal telephone system and picking up the headset.
“Base Operator,” a woman’s bored voice answered.
“This is Field Agent Dankworth,” he said, voice struggling to remain calm. “Cabin 24-575. Something’s happening in my room. Something bad.”
“Could you be clearer, Field Agent?” the laconic operator replied. It sounded like maybe she had one hand up, inspecting her nails as she spoke.
“I’ve got an emergency here, miss,” he yelled, feeling those golden fingers begin to caress his back.
The wind was stronger now, tugging insistently closer to the hole in the universe that was growing over in the corner.
Hole in the universe?
“Please state the nature of your emergency,” she replied, maybe reading from a script now.
Gareth tried to think of the right words, but the pull of the tempest was too great now. Fight it as he tried, the force literally dragged him across the cabin, stretching the cord of the handset until it was pulled right out of his hands, falling to the wall with a thunk as Gareth’s legs went numb.
Looking down, his lower half appeared to be fading out of existence, right at the event horizon of that golden light. The golden fingers crept up his nerves, pulling him under with grim determination.
Oh, shit.