The Wild Beasts of Anthony Mannis
Chapter 7

Hector Cimarron, also known as Hector the First, was a terrorist and enemy of the state who organized a coup against the Borgesian Republic of Atos (BORA). Most infamously known for being the first recorded visionary, his unexplainable abnormalities allowed the rebel group known as the Ocean Zone Militia to seize power—albeit short-lived—during a war known as The Great Uprising (CA81 - CA86.)

- Information Available to Borges Citizens, Pamphlet II

Raffick couldn’t for the life of him understand why Warden Tan allowed her office to be this ugly. Grey rows of fluorescent tubes buzzed overhead, casting harsh light that clashed with the pasty orange walls. Some natural light shone through the frosted glass blocks that made up a window behind her plastic desk, but not enough, and it resulted in surreal shadows everywhere. All of Tan’s personal effects—from her paper clips to her trophy sniper rifle—were meticulously arranged yet somehow still out of place, like a squad of Elite Spectre Men at a fine arts gallery.

This place makes me sick, Raffick thought to himself.

He tried not to look at her. Not only was Warden Tan a high-ranking and extremely powerful Borges noble, she was also responsible for the commissioning of Forest Zone troops and regulation of their movement—his movement. Her power over him aside, she also kept unsettling company: he had already walked past The Jester in the hall—who had stared back with unblinking eyes. Why does she still employ that pyromaniac first-rounder…

Immaculate in a gold-trimmed white dress uniform, the slender woman stood across the desk with her back to him. All he was and had accomplished meant nothing to her. She may be small, but only a fool would think of her as weak.

The prolonged silence between the officer and his superior was making him intensely uncomfortable; Raffick had heard stories of officers who had failed her orders disappearing on routine patrols.

Warden Tan was ignoring him, absent-mindedly perusing a map of Atos with one hand. In her other hand was a Technical Request that had been written by Officer Raffick himself.

“A boy gave you that scar,” Warden Tan finally turned towards him. Her head was lowered on the pretense of scanning the Tech-Rec, but she peered at the jagged line running twelve-to-six along Raffick’s face.

Raffick cleared his throat. “I received this from a tier-two, possibly tier-three invoker, ma’am. The one from Mint Village, ma’am. As you know. Ma’am.”

“How old was he?”

“Thirteen, ma’am, more or less.”

“And you have taken him into custody, I assume?”

“I…have not had that opportunity, ma’am.”

“And why is that?”

“He has proven to be…elusive. He has routed the rangers in every capture attempt.”

“And you thought the proper thing to do would be to run home with your tail between your legs. Days wasted that you could have spent tracking a lost resource. I heard you ran from the fight.”

“I was knocked down a hill,” Raffick stiffened, “I would not have returned from the field if there was no need. And I need better-equipped soldiers. I need stalkers. Skydrones. Spectre Men. Not east rangers. If you please. Ma’am.”

Warden Tan laughed as she folded the Tech-Rec neatly. “A rich woman gives her servant one thousand spikes. The servant gambles it all away. Why would the rich woman then give her servant two thousand spikes?”

“The reason my men were injured is because they were not trained or equipped to deal with an invoker of such strength.”

“Oh, so it was an invoker who disabled them? Not a bookworm, or a girl with a stick?”

Raffick tried not to let his gaze drop to the floor. “The girl possesses a high degree of agility and tactical survivability. She has undoubtedly had professional training in military-level combat. The rangers have a tough time tracking her, much less fighting her.”

Warden Tan smiled facetiously. “Marvelous excuses. You would make an excellent lawyer. More so than a ranked officer of the CDF. Perhaps you should reconsider your career options.”

“My accolades and commendations speak for themselves. I consider myself worthy of my position.” Too defensive. She’ll notice. “Ma’am.”

“Perhaps you do,” Warden Tan said nonchalantly, as her pen scratched against the Tech-Rec.

She slid the paperwork back to Officer Raffick, signed and stamped, but kept her finger pressed against the paper on the desk. “Raffick.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“I can whoop your ass.”

“Yes ma’am.”

She lifted her finger off the paper. “I’m granting you two anti-invoker squadrons—151 and 421—as well as two PK-3s, two skydrones, and four Spectre Men—available for deployment as soon as tomorrow. Your invoker has been spotted outside Lanaya, apparently terrorizing the locals. Brief your men, you will catch up to him within the week.”

Visible surprise crossed Raffick’s face. Squad 151 was his regular team, and she had beefed it up with armor and another squad as well. “Thank you ma’am.”

“Dismissed,” Warden Tan, her focus already elsewhere, waved her hand.

Raffick was out the door and in the hallway, puzzled over what just happened, when he heard a cackle behind him.

“Don’t die.” The Jester said.

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