Reporting for Duty

After a few leisurely days at home, July 1st arrived—Elyon's reporting date. With directions gathered from passersby, he located the port branch of the police station.

The building was a two-story edifice painted in black and white, adorned with a badge featuring a sword, a military saber, and a unicorn. Beside the main entrance hung a wooden plaque with "Port Branch" carved into it.

The lobby was devoid of people that morning. Elyon cleared his throat and called out loudly.

"Is anybody here?"

The sound of footsteps echoed from the hallway, and a man with white-flecked hair, dressed in the navy blue uniform standard for police officers, sporting a silver V-shaped shoulder patch, answered in a deep voice.

"I thought it was those dockside ruffians causing trouble again, but you don't look like one of those lowly workers. Who are you looking for?"

"My name is Elyon. Chief Orion instructed me to report here today to take over clerical duties," Elyon responded.

"Wait here. I'll go fetch the captain; he should be in today. Finally, someone's taking over for Garrick. That old codger always forgets our leave applications, though he never forgets his own stipends."

The old officer complained as he ascended to the second floor.

After about five or six minutes, a robust man with a full beard and black eyes approached Elyon. Noticing the two silver stars on his shoulder, Elyon understood he was a captain.

"Elyon? I'm Captain Parker Green, head of this branch. Chief Orion sent me a letter and your uniform last week. Go to the first room on the left in the hall and look for Garrick. He'll show you the ropes for a month before his retirement, after which you'll officially take his place. From then on, we'll share the workload. I've got documents to process now, but let's have a meal together after work to celebrate your joining."

With a firm handshake, Captain Green turned and headed upstairs.

"Understood, Captain."

Elyon knocked on the first room to the left, and a weary voice from behind the door invited him in. Inside, an elderly man with thinning hair and a reddish nose, dressed in a police uniform, was diligently writing something.

As Elyon entered, the man lifted his head, "So, you're Elyon? Captain Green said a new recruit would be joining me today. You're taking over for me. If you want some tea, make it yourself; the leaves are in the tin under the table. Your uniform is in the wardrobe over there. Wear what you have on today; tomorrow, come dressed in the uniform. Follow me later to collect your sidearm and holster. Here's your badge, take good care of it."

Garrick tossed a leather-wrapped badge to Elyon, its cover emblazoned with the silver sword, saber, and unicorn insignia of the police.

Inside, it detailed Elyon Sasson's appointment as a mid-level chief in the Gonia District Police Office of Aegsburg City Police Department. Accompanying it was his photograph from the previous month. After pocketing his identification, Elyon hung his top hat in the wardrobe and took a seat opposite Garrick.

"What will I be learning today, Mr. Garrick?"

"Our chief task as clerks is to transcribe incidents from our jurisdiction into official case files and to record everyone's leave requests due to personal or unexpected circumstances. Moreover, given the limited number of individuals authorized to carry weapons, we have two patrol days per week. You've been briefed about the holiday duties, right? Normally, we handle daily work from Monday to Saturday, patrol on the seventh and eighth days, and rest on the ninth and the day of Sun." Garrick paused from his work to explain.

"There haven't been many cases recently. Elyon, what do you think is our greatest duty as police?"

"To maintain order and to fight crime?" Elyon offered the standard response.

"Ha! So idealistic, young man. We're just here to ensure our paymasters don't see crime or labor strikes. The well-being of the workers at the port and the northern industrial area doesn't concern the lords and ladies of the King's District or Laid District."

"All men are created equal, but some are more equal than others?" Elyon quipped.

"That's one way to put it. Take our port branch, for example. We're responsible for the safety of the entire port and its surrounding streets, yet there are just over a dozen of us in the precinct. That's less than one officer per street. To really manage the port area, we'd need at least triple the police force."

"What are we responsible for, then?" Elyon inquired.

"Maintaining a semblance of stability will do. So, we generally don't deal with common brawls or thefts. When people do come to us, at most we write up a case file and consider it handled. During the summer, when there's a high demand for labor, the workers at the port don't tend to stir up trouble. As long as they can earn money, nobody wants to make a fuss. I'll show you how to patrol most efficiently on the seventh day. For now, learn how to write up case files."

Garrick stood up, fetched a kettle from beside the stove, and took two ceramic cups from the desk drawer.

"Pass me the tin of tea leaves, will you? Truth be told, our clerical work is rather relaxed. We don't have to handle criminal cases like the captain and his lot. You know, those rats in the port's underworld aren't easy to deal with; behind them could be some noble or member of parliament."

Elyon nodded in agreement.

"While no one dares shoot us in the back out of respect, there are plenty of excuses and delays in investigations. The most troublesome are those workers from the southern continents who come here looking for jobs. They're willing to work for less and endure more, which has stolen a lot of work from the local laborers, leading to frequent clashes."

"Populism," Elyon commented, recognizing the universal logic.

"They don't care if you're a servant of His Majesty the King; caught up in the heat of the moment, they'll come after us too. But generally, if you fire a couple of shots into the air, they'll back down."

Elyon handed Garrick the tin of tea leaves from under the table. Garrick scooped a small amount into the cups and poured the hot water, creating a robust and slightly bitter beverage.

For the rest of the morning, Garrick taught Elyon how to turn the forms filled out by officers and complainants into official case files.

"I ran into an old man earlier who complained that you often forget to log his leave requests?"

"Those proud deadbeats. Sometimes they're just late for half a day because of a sick parent or child at home. They're too proud to skip work but need to take leave. Most patrol officers will stay at the lowest rank for their whole lives, only getting a junior chief's treatment near retirement. So the captain usually turns a blind eye to these cases unless they're deliberately shirking work."

"So, sanctioned slacking off?" Elyon feigned understanding.

"Something like that. We generally don't mention it. Though they grumble about me forgetting their leave requests, deep down, they're grateful. Not everyone is a distinguished graduate like you, directly recommended by Chief Orion. You've already surpassed the endpoint of most rank-and-file officers."

This comment made Elyon conscious of the three V-shaped shoulder patches on Garrick's uniform.

The police canteen was in a single-story building behind the station. Garrick led Elyon through the courtyard and inside.

"What's good for lunch today, Aunt Lisa?" Garrick shouted toward the kitchen.

"Don't call me 'Aunt,' Garrick, you nearly retired old man. Beet soup, parsley liver, and the main course is tomato pasta," a resounding middle-aged female voice replied from the kitchen.

"Find a seat. Don't let Lisa's loud and fierce demeanor fool you; she's had a hard life. Her husband was casually patrolling the docks when he stumbled upon those rats trading contraband. They thought he was a rival gang member and shot him."

"A pistol? He was taken to the hospital in time, wasn't he?"

"Those rats can hardly get their hands on handguns; they use shotguns. There wasn't a piece of his skin left intact. Such a fine young man. Lisa fainted at the funeral, raising three triplets all by herself."

"No pension?"

"Pensions dwindle, and the captain decided to cut the daily five-penny lunch allowance and establish a canteen instead. That way, they could hire a chef. A decade has passed, and I'm about to retire. Lisa has raised her kids, and our branch is the only one in Aegsburg with a canteen."

"And what happened to the murderer?" Elyon asked.

"It was a melee, and no one knew who was responsible. But shooting a patrolman is like slapping the King's face. The police, though clearly stratified, are united when it comes to protecting their own. Half of Aegsburg's police turned the docks upside down, hanging four gunmen from two gangs implicated in the shootout."

"So, four fall guys."

"It was a way to give closure. Those brazen gang members, some were so scared they pissed themselves when they learned they were going to be hanged, others knelt and begged for mercy. After that incident, an unspoken secret was established between the rats and us. They keep their shady dealings out of public places, and as long as we don't see it, we don't interfere."

"Isn't that like burying your head in the sand?" Elyon countered.

"Young man, even if you arrest every scumbag on the docks today, does that solve the problem? You take down a group today, and tomorrow there will be unemployed or jobless youths to take their place. It's the way of the world."

Garrick sighed.

Elyon didn't argue. On this planet, he was but a passerby.

Lunch was personally served by Aunt Lisa on a wooden tray.

Aunt Lisa was a typical Bruge woman, blonde with gray eyes. The hardships of life marked her face with deep crow's feet. Looking at Elyon, Aunt Lisa asked:

"Who is this handsome young man, Garrick?"

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Lisa. I'm Elyon, freshly graduated from Aegsburg and now an intern clerk here." Elyon smiled amiably.

"Oh, you scholarly types sure know how to speak. Well, Garrick, you can retire in peace. Do you prefer pig liver or pasta? I'll serve you extra today."

Recalling the trembling cafeteria ladies from college, whose food lines were always longer, Elyon chuckled.

"No need for extra, Aunt Lisa. Captain Green mentioned a dinner later, and I want to save room—you understand, haha."

"Alright, I'll serve you the regular portion then. Just wait here."

Soon Elyon's lunch was brought out—a small bowl of beet soup, a side of parsley-fried pig liver, and a large portion of tomato pasta.

The meal tasted a bit better than when he cooked himself, though not as good as the culinary delights of Chef Almar from the food-rich region of Ael.

After devouring the meal, Garrick said he was going back for a nap and would return in the afternoon to collect the firearm and practice shooting.