The General’s office had an austere if modern décor, very similar to the rest of the Empire’s buildings; gray walls, glass desks, and chairs with minimalist design. Today, it was immersed in darkness, illuminated only by the glare of two holographic screens suspended onto the mainboard.

The general did not receive him with the military salute, as usual, he did it sitting in his chair and with his hands clasped on the desk.

Benetnash was a man with a little more than half a century of life and had more achievements in his military career than Rigel could ever have hoped to accomplish in a millennium. Nature had endowed him with a blessed body for hand-to-hand combat, and he had taken advantage of it, sculpting it over the years to instill fear and respect alike.

His past actions on the battlefield had made him a living legend among his admirers and detractors, two things he seemed to collect wherever he set foot. He was considered almost a living symbol of the Empire, with as much representative power as the scarlet shield with the winged white horse, or the armored Grenadiers.

No one had seen the general perturbed in any way, shape, or form; which increased his halo of a tough man. It was impossible to tell what his thoughts were by judging his expression; a problem Rigel was facing right now.

During the few seconds they were silent, Rigel made use of his knowledge of body language and tried to figure out what the general had in mind for him, but he couldn’t draw any conclusion based on the expression of the husky old man.

Benetnash’s face seemed to be made of stone; always serious. His mouth was turned into a wide line contoured downside, and the dimples on the sides of it remarked his bad mood; nothing out of the ordinary. What was scary were his eyes; those two icebergs glowed icy in front of the screens’ lights; they were crystalline holes for a lot of hypotheses.

Benetnash stood up and smoothed his impeccable uniform.

He wore a suit similar to Rigel’s, but crimson and beige instead of green. He wore a coat buttoned down to his waist and then open to the sides; epaulets with gold fringes on his shoulders, and about five different medals-shaped decorations hanging from his chest, next to the Army shield. Attached to his belt, there was a long, thin sword in its holster. Although the weapon was a symbolic element in the attire—no one used them anymore, everyone would rather use a laser gun over a blade—Rigel had heard Benetnash loved his sword, and that he often unsheathed it, polished it out, and sharpened it.

Maybe he intends to use it today, the Detective Colonel thought.

The sturdy general approached Rigel, touching the handle of his sword.

“You and I both know what happened in Bellatrix, Colonel Beta,” he said.

Rigel remained mute, with his eyes in front, thinking about how to escape if what he was fearing become true.

“And you and I know that this will happen again,” Benetnash continued.

Rigel cleared his throat. “What do you mean, General?”

Benetnash fixed his eyes on Rigel’s. “Don’t play stupid with me,” he said. He pressed a holographic button on the light screen of his desk, and a video started running.

Rigel paled. His dark skin seemed to have lost its melanin completely, drained from the shock.

It was the missing sequence Stanton, the operator, was talking about. Stanton had shown him footage from surveillance camera number three, where Broga was shown going towards Level 5. This must have been camera number five’s recording. The quality of the video was just as bad as the rest, but here there was a blonde woman standing at the warehouse’s door, facing the Cyclops, and behind her, a young man dressed in an imperial soldier uniform.

Rigel did what he’d never done: he stepped back. His little eyes were stuck on the image of the blonde girl. Malin. At least, that cleared up one of his doubts: Malin had joined Juzo.

“You still love her, don’t you?”

The General’s statement sounded like a question and caught Rigel by surprise.

In the few seconds since Benetnash had set the video running, a thousand things had gone through Rigel’s mind. From the idea that his career and life had come to an end—along with Stanton’s and so many others who would fall with him, accused of betraying the Empire—to the infiltration of Juzo and Malin into Bellatrix barracks, and the uncertainty of whether they had crossed into the other continent or died at the hands of that crazy android. But he had never, ever imagined hearing what he heard; let alone coming from who it came from.

“Because of the way you look at her,” Benetnash added.

Rigel, mute.

Without changing his lapidary countenance, Benetnash withdrew his eyes from the colonel and watched the video for a few seconds; then he paused it. The noise image of Malin facing the android got frozen in front of him.

“Malin Marie Viveka,” the general said; and Rigel believed he detected in that rough, cold voice, traces of pride and longing. “My only daughter, the Rowdy One.”

Benetnash pivoted towards him with a hand resting on his sword’s handle.

“I should condemn you for what you’ve done,” he said. “Or perhaps I should kill you right here, now.”

Rigel didn’t move. His breathing fastened, and a cold sweat ran down his back. If he took a wrong step, the general could interpret it as a sign of hostility, and the last thing he wanted now was for the snake to jump on him. Damn it! The old man was a fighter and an incredible strategist; if that man decided to attack him, even when he was twenty years younger than him, and all that goes with it, he had little chance of getting out of the office alive. And of course, if he did, there were the two Grenadiers right outside to put an end to his misery.

“When you were my little Marie’s fiancé, I came to appreciate you as a son,” Benetnash said. Now there was contempt in his voice.

The surprises kept raining over Rigel, like ice stalactites. The general felt emotions, after all. What would Marie have said if he told her about that? First, she would have told him not to call her Marie again because that’s how her father used to call her; she would have demanded him to call her by her first name, Malin, and then she would have told him he was crazy or that he must have heard wrong because the grumpy old man only appreciated the army, not his daughter.

“I’ll put an end to this situation,” Benetnash said.

And the phone in the office rang. Beep, beep, beeeeep.

The general threw a grunt at the device, hoping it wouldn’t ring again.

Rigel held his breath.

Beep, beep, beeeeep.

Benetnash placed himself in front of the phone, and angry, he picked up the wireless tube and pressed it against his ear:

“What?” More than a question, it was a bark. “I ordered not to be disturbed.”

He heard the shy voice of an officer on the other end, “I’m sorry, sir, but I have an urgent message from General Alcor; he insisted I deliver it to you.”

Benetnash growled again. “Go ahead,” he said.

“The Imperial Council summons you to the command balcony in the Assembly Hall,” the voice announced. “General Alcor needs you to take care of a special task.”

“What task?”

The officer’s voice faltered for a second as if he hesitated to be the one to tell him the news.

“What task, soldier?”

“We’ve restored communication with Bellatrix and they’ve just sent us their last detailed report, sir,” the officer said. “According to it, the attack on the facility had the purpose to use the Auriga Mother.”

“Something else?” the general asked.

“Sir, my orders were—”

“What else, soldier?” the general insisted.

“Bellatrix’s surveillance cameras were jammed, sir; and who’s accountable for it has not yet been identified,” the officer continued.

“What you’re saying is stupid, soldier. There’s no need for a camera to reveal who did it. It’s obvious the one who used the Auriga was the one who murdered our soldiers.”

Rigel gulped. Although he didn’t know what was going on, according to that last sentence, he knew the general was lying. Was he protecting him? No. Benetnash was protecting his daughter, his little Malin Marie.

The voice on the phone wavered again before answering the general.

“No, sir. The Auriga registered the crossing of five other people besides the Cyclops android.”

Rigel saw the intrigue sprouting from Benetnash’s face, like drops of water on a damp wall, and he got infected with it. What the hell did they just tell the General to make him look that concerned? What was going on? His heart galloped up. He tried to reconstruct the conversation with the few words he was hearing, but it only made him even more anxious.

“Specify,” the general ordered.

“The identity of those who got into the Lavra Geyser is not known,” the officer continued on the phone, “but the computer log revealed the Auriga was used twice tonight, with a nine-minute interval between one crossing and the other. The first time, it was crossed by two people. Then, a virus caused the central system to collapse, and the portal became inactive. But then, the machine started working again… by itself.”

“By itself?”

“Yes, sir. According to the technicians, the virus introduced was Alpha type. It should have kept the transporter off for days, but… a boost of Red radiation turned it back on.”

Benetnash’s heart froze. Red radiation and the Eddanics were always a sign of trouble.

The officer continued:

“It was reported that two prisoners escaped during the brawl and met with the Cyclops at Level 5. We have identified both of them, however, they were accompanied by an unidentified woman. We believe she is a Code Red Eddanic who used her…” The voice muted for a moment, as if he were looking for the right word to say it. “She used her powers,” he said, “and erased the Alpha virus, reactivating the Auriga for a second dimensional-crossing. General Alcor thinks she’s controlling the android and wants you to take care of her capture and questioning, and to take that android out of service.”

Benetnash cleared his throat.

“Tell the Imperial Council I’ll meet with them shortly,” he said and cut off communication. He looked at Rigel. “You know something about what’s going on here; am I right?”

Rigel nodded.

Without taking his eyes off of Rigel, the general opened his desk drawer and took something out.

For a second, Rigel thought it was the gun the general would use to kill him.

“Apparently, your sentence will have to wait,” Benetnash said, and threw what he had taken out to Rigel.

Rigel caught it in the air. It was a tiny phone.

“This...?” he was intrigued.

“It’s a phone, detective colonel,” Benetnash said as if it were a self-evident truth.

Rigel’s small black eyes blazed with wonder. Was the grouchy old man suggesting what he was thinking?

“My daughter Marie and the Rowdy One who goes with her,” said the general, and the two icebergs he had for eyes narrowed; “If they went through a Lavra Geyser they must have a heavy-duty phone, adapted to operate on seven-frequency, right?”

Rigel nodded again; there was no point in denying it.

“If they are out of the territory,” said the General; “our firewall will give them signal problems; this thing will solve that. Inform her that this android is after her, along with two prisoners, and possibly, guided by a Code Red Eddanic woman.”

Rigel lost what little breath he still held. Broga and others were after Malin and Juzo accompanied by a highly dangerous Eddanic. He couldn’t imagine a worse scenario than that.

“What the hell are you waiting for?!” the old man barked.

In his thirty-seven years of life, Rigel Beta had never been speechless and without knowing what to do, except on that occasion. He watched the phone, not believing what he heard; then he looked at the man in front of him, at that mystery in uniform.

“I warn you, colonel,” Benetnash pointed an accusing finger at him. “Only members of the Imperial Council have access to phones like these. If you get caught with it, I’ll deny having given it to you; I’ll plead you stole it from me, and I’ll execute you myself. Understood?”

Rigel saluted him. “Understood, sir!”

“And tell Marie to destroy her phone so they don’t track her down,” the general said and excused it with an angry gesture. “Now, go away!”

Rigel Beta left the office with his heart pounding and his hands shaking.

He walked down the corridors feeling stupid; a fool who had been busted, a fool who was lucky to be alive, even when he didn’t know what would become of him from here on. He activated the phone and thought about calling Juzo, but he called Malin’s number instead.

Rigel heard his old girlfriend take the call. He told her that Broga had crossed to the other side of the world and that he had gone with two fugitives and a possible Code Red Eddanic woman. He ignored the questions she asked him, trying to figure out how he had contacted them through the seven-frequency; nor did he say who had given him that possibility—Malin Marie would never have believed it. He begged her to be careful, asked her to convey his wishes for success to Juzo, and told her that the two of them should get rid of their phones as soon as the communication ended. Finally, with his voice on the verge of breaking, Rigel Beta told her that he loved her, that he always had and always would, and he hung up.