At dawn on the Day of Prime, I knew that I'd be working. The new plane, the Manifest, broke into our world with a burst of cold, salty air. A winter ocean had arrived, tempering the summer heat over the Kirinal Pit. 

Outside the hangars of the Kirinal Salvage Society, I paused to look northeast. The Divers arced over the Pit, leaving distinctive energy trails, as they surveyed the brand new ocean that had appeared. I could tell from the pattern that they were on a simple survey. They weren't accounting for hostiles, probably no sapients to negotiate with.

The towering hangar doors opened with a rumble. My crew of dozens represented a slice of the mortal races living on the Pit. They were gorging themselves from the guild's breakfast tables, fuel for a hard day's work, or a free meal at the company expense if we didn't win a Cachet for the Manifest.

"Look alive boys and girls, we're fishermen today!", I shouted, "Fire up the zeppelins and finish up the prep on the boats." I sniffed the air again, "Second Squad, get the kelp harvesters going!" The crew dispersed among the vehicles. Some crews were putting away harvesting and mining equipment while the cyclopes pulled the boats forward.

"Helm! Did our crystals get enough charge?"

"Aye, Captain Agaric." responded my helmsmage Ebrie, a tough jinn woman. "The Manifest snapped in nice and hard. We're crackling today." She made a hand movement, muttering under her breath as she bound the energy crystal to my command vessel, the Ready. With a grunt, it slid into place. "If the bidders bugger it again and waste our time, I know exactly where to put this extra power." she looked at me and let lightning dance on her fingertips. 

Smirking, I responded, "Keep it in your pants, helm. The Surveyor hasn't even called it yet. We might have to negotiate with merfolk or, gods-forbid, some chirpy dolphin bastards."

The prep on the trawlers looked good, I signaled the zeppelins to attack to them. As I pulled on lines to check the knots, a goblin clerk from upstairs approached with a young blonde human in tow. "Captain, the bosses want this one to shadow you today."

Without looking over I commented, "Sure, give him to the second squad."

The clerk grunted and held up an order with the Seal of the Board. "My apologies Captain, they insisted that he shadow you. Respectfully, could you please answer all his questions." 

I gave the parchment a cursory glance. It looked official enough. I stuffed it in my pocket. "Fine. You may leave."

As the goblin scurried off, I looked more closely at the golden interloper. He was young, pale, in his early twenties, and thin but sinewy. His clothes were appropriate for a salvage, plain but well made and his hands had the calluses of a swordsman. His gaze was direct as he looked me in the eyes.

"Is this an inspection by the Zone Authority or are you a newspaper..."

He responded with a pointed look, "I'm under the Seal of the Board, Captain."

"Do you have a name?"

He answered dryly, "Dylan, Captain. Dylan Herren."

"You can ask me your questions, Master Herren, but get in my way and I'll throw you off my ship."

"But of course, Captain. Please tell me about yourself."

I began with my familiar patter, "I am Captain Bentley Agaric of the Kirinal Salvage Society. I'm in command of the Ready Hangar here in Garrison City, which is also the Zone headquarters of the Society. On harvest days, we bid for the right to enter the Manifest and responsibly collect natural resources."

"Harvest day?"

"When a new plane manifests in the Pit without sophonts to claim the resources. The Concordance declares a Day of Harvest  and we get to work."

"How often does the Manifest have inhabitants?"

"When we get a mortal world that's safe to enter? About one in nine or ten."

At that moment, the ident-a-hedron on my wrist buzzed. We all checked our hedrons for the Surveyor's call: "Horn 1 Prime Unknown Ocean Animal Population 6". One enormous horn blast pealed out over the entire city.

"That's the Call, team! Finalize prep! We launch in 5 minutes!"

As I turned towards my command vessel, The Ready, the young human said, "Captain, could you please explain that? I'm newly arrived here in the Concordant Zone, and I don't understand your jargon."

"Master Herren, I told you..."

"You can call me Dylan, Captain."

"Master Herren," I continued, "I don't have time to babysit."

"I'm sorry Captain, but I must insist. I won't get in your way, but you've been directed to answer my questions."

"Then keep up Master Herren." I continued through the hangar, inspecting the ships as they were winched into place on the zeppelins.

"So what's this message that I got on my hedron crystal device? Please explain as if I had just arrived." he held up a brand new octahedron on a fresh, unmarked wristband. 

I went back to my reliable patter, "That's the Call of the Surveyor of Worlds. Every morning as soon as it appears, the Kirinal Divers fly over it. Sometimes the Manifest is a scheduled world, but once or twice a week, we get a random world. A little randomness is a price we pay for order for the rest of the week. They double-check that the correct world has appeared, or they survey a new world."

"Once he's done, he makes his call and everyone in the Zone gets the result on their ident-a-hedron." I held my left hand up, my hedron is on a strap turned towards the inside of my wrist. "So the message means..."

"Please explain the device as if I just arrived here, Captain."

"Buggering inspectors," I muttered. "Hedrons are soul crystals that serve as identification and communication. Some folks use it for money and other things, but I don't trust gold unless I can hold it in my hand."

"So anyone can say anything to anyone with one of these?"

I double-checked the net launchers and harpoons, making sure the release mechanisms weren't jammed. No use trying to fish or fight if the gear fails mid-haul.

"No, you have to be com-synced and you only get 25 words. But the officials and the Authority are synced to everybody. The Surveyor works for the biggest of the big boys and he talks to everyone in the Zone once he's surveyed the Manifest with the Call."

"So, the Call?"

Wethryn, my head triton scout clicked her teeth at me as she adjusted his breath-mask. "Waters look clean, Captain. Nothing poisonous, and it's cold down there." I nodded, cold meant a good winter ocean full of fish.

"That's the Diver's Cypher. First, he gives us the Horns. One horn for peace, two for war, and three means flee. We got "Horn 1" today, for us salvagers, that means profits. "Prime Unknown" means that we have another mortal world, but one that's never been the Manifest. "Ocean" means what you think it does. "Animal" means we have relatively normal creatures, no undead, elementals, demons, or anything exotic like that. Population 6 means massive schools of fish, plenty for everyone if we win a good position!"

"What's a Cachet?"

"The Zone is split into eight cantons, eight slices of the Pit. Each canton auctions Cachets on Harvest Days. Win a Cachet, you get access to that canton's section. Higher bid gets an earlier launch position."

"So you have a Cachet?"

"Not yet. Our bidders have to do their job. Our guild surveyors are out on the Wall now. They're sending information to the bidder and..."

"And the information comes over these ideen... ident..."

"Hee-drons, Master Herren. And yes, if you and I were to touch our hedrons together and make a com-sync, we could send each other 25-word messages all day long."

"Interesting."

"That's the magic of the Zone."

My hedron dinged and I announced to the crew, "We won position 3! Not bad." A cheer went up from the crew. "We're going to the Wall! Helms, take us out!"

I turned to Ebrie, standing at her station just behind mine. "Nice and smooth, Ebrie."

Ebrie held her hands over the command crystal and the Ready rumbled to life. We floated out, our two support zeppelins flanking as we headed east over Garrison City. With the Call made, the city oriented towards the ocean manifest. 

As we left the Hangar District, the auction houses were already converting to handle the seafood coming in today. The house mages conjured ice as workers set up stalls and scales for fish and crabs. I could tell where we were by the scents in the air. The smell of fresh baked bread rose from kitchens and mess halls. Oil and harsh smoke as we crossed over the factories. The smell of offal and chemicals marked the edge of the city.

Other guild fleets were heading to the Wall too. I spotted the distinctive airships of Squisher's Scavengers to the north and the sleek zeppelins of the Smiling Lads to the south. Everyone who'd won a Cachet was heading to their positions.

As we crossed the city walls , I leaned over the rail. Behind us, Garrison City spread in a patchwork of pastel, multicolored buildings. Ahead, the Pit yawned open, filled with a cold churning ocean of thundering waves. I made the Sign of Five, wishing for luck and a safe return to my family.

"How far to the Pit?", Herren asked, making notes in his little notebook.

"Five miles, Master Herren. We'll be there in about fifteen minutes. We launch after Positions 1 and 2 go over."

Below us the road to the Fortress of Kirinal bustled with soldiers returning to the city. I had been one in a former life. I knew they were anticipating a day of light duty after the Horn 1 call. We salvagers would be doing all the work today.

We arrived at our assigned position.. The nose of the KSS Ready right at the Pit's edge. Nothing but open air between us and the ocean two-hundred-fifty feet below. I heard Herren gasp next to me. "First time at the Pit?"

Herren seemed to be visibly green as he took in the drop to the cold ocean below. "I've been here before. The ground was right at the Wall then. I expected the water would be too."

"Yeah, sometimes the Manifest is at the same elevation as our ground. Sometimes there's a five-mile high mountain or a void full of rainbow bridges. Oceans usually come in at sea level. I don't pretend to understand it, but there's a wizard in every coffee shop who'd be happy to explain it all to you."

From the eastern edge, I could see the across the entire diameter of the Pit. Each of the eight cantons were fielding salvagers according to their own regulations. It looked like Ironshell Operations on the northeast edge was fielding a fleet of more than a dozen boats and zeppelins. It was going to take a lot of fish to make up for that expense.

I could feel Herren tightening up as our countdown grew louder. "Are there precautions I should be taking? do I need to be lashed in or some such?"

"Your bosses put feather fall on that hedron before sending you up here, right?"

Our bell rang.

"Take us over Ebrie. There's work to do."

We descend swiftly, and surely, the Ready's nose pitched slightly upwards. Ebrie's an old hand, but I can tell her hand was heavy on the throttle. Our unwelcome guest had a death grip on one of our many safety lines.

The air chilled and we huddled into our cold weather gear. As we approached the water, the tritons dove from the deck. They slid beneath the waves to begin scouting ahead of our nets.

The hulls of our sailing vessels hit the water with a spray of cold salty water. "Look alive crew! Time to work!" I called up to Ebrie. "Drop us and fetch the kelp harvester! I saw beds to the south, backup crew can work those!" 

With a clank and a hydraulic hiss, the Ready, released us. Ready's Pride hit the water with a cold spray. To port Ready's Catch splashed down. To starboard, Ready's Haul. We would maintain a loose triangle formation all day, close enough to signal, far enough away to not tangle our nets.

The deck pitched and rolled, but my sea legs kicked in right away. I checked lines and adjusted gear as I walked the main deck. I stayed out of the way as the cyclopes and deck hands prepared the heavy trawl nets. 

Unfamiliar footsteps stumbled behind me. Herren, green-gilled and swaying had followed me down to the Pride.

"Master Herren, one warning. Get in our way or get dragged overboard, I'm not wasting a second on rescue. Watch from the wheelhouse and stay out of our way."

The young human nodded once, no argument, and made for the ladder. My estimation of him ticked up a half notch.

Wethryn, my head triton scout, leapt out of the water and onto deck. She clicked and gestured towards the medium depths. "Deploy the heavy trawl!" I called. "Standard mesh, thirty-foot depth!"

I waited ten minutes then called out, "Haul!"

The cyclopes hauled in rhythm, pulling on the net to the cadence of an old salvager's shanty. Their deep bass voices chanting "Haul away, haul away!" as the other deck hands' voices mingled with theirs.

The net rose, straining and heavy. As it broke the surface, silver bodies thrashed in the mesh, tuna as big as my gnomish body and much thicker. Scattered among them, the ice-white bellies of frostfin.

I made the Sign of Five again and grinned. "Frostfin! That alone will cover the cost of the Cachet!"

The net swung over deck and I pulled the release. Hundreds of pounds of fish poured out flopping and thrashing, seeking escape. We sorted quickly, the big tuna went into the main hold as the deck wizard conjured layers of ice over them. The frostfin we kept separate without ice. Their flesh remained cold, even in the hottest summer, and I would get a premium for them from traders heading south.

I spotted a few crystal shrimp tangled in the nets, their geometric shells glittering in the sun. They were valuable for their delicate taste and their shells were a potent magical infusion. Wehtryn clicked a warning. "Something hunts those, Captain. In the deep water to north east."

"Noted. We'll keep away from the deeps." I checked the total haul, half a ton easy.

"Good work, Pit-bloods! Ready the nets, we're going again!"

Ebrie returned with the Ready. "Backup crew's harvesting plenty of kelp," she reported. "They sent these for the midday meal." She gestured at a basket of fresh sea urchins and crabs, spines waving and claws scrabbling.

We made three more hauls before the sun reached its peak. Our zeppelins picked us up and relocated us as the schools migrated eastward. Each net came up heavy with tuna and precious frostfin. The crystal shrimp added their scent to the hold, shellfish with a hint of honey. By midday, we'd hit thirty percent of our catch limit. The schools had brought us near the center of the Pit.

I checked my hedron. Messages from the other crews were already coming in for midday meal. The closest were Ironshell Operations, Squisher's Scavengers, the Lightning Brothers, and a new group, the Lucky Seven. 

"Signal the Catch and the Haul," I told Ebrie. "We're meeting up with some other crews for the Midday Meal and to compare notes."

I tapped my hedron and heard the velvety voice of my old friend Captain Marbleface, "The Ironshell grags overbid for Position 1. The dusty buggers have us working overtime to make up for their mistake. We'll catch you next time!"

"Marbleface!" I replied. "I have my wife's pork adobo that you've been asking about! You were supposed to trade me for some mushroom bread!"

"This is the third time the fuckin' grags overbid for Position, but WE'RE the ones who're payin' with our sweat and blood and lives." He barked a laugh, "I just wanted summa dat pork adobo!"

"Next time then, Cap'n!" As I signed off the boats of the Lightning Brothers and Squishers Scavengers steamed closer.  We prepared to raft together. I ducked belowdecks to get my wife's enchanted clay pot.

I could hear Ghagrad Head Squisher booming over the cacophony of greetings, "Oi! Careful with The Lusty Serpent!" He bellowed as our boats bumped together, "If there's a scratch on 'er, I'll knock the teef outta yer head!"

"Now now Head Squisher! Is that any way to talk to someone who's bringing you his wife's pork adobo?" I said as I came back above. I uncovered the pot and the smell of peppery pork simmering in soy sauce and vinegar floated over to my orcish friend. 

"Bentley!" he yelled at me, "That smells like it might be worth a few scratches, you little scalawag!" He lifted a dome of cast iron and the smell of smoked meat wafted out. "I've got barbecued ribs! I've got smoked mutton! I've got pepper brisket!" He leaned down to me and whispered, "And I've got hard liquor for the cap'n's!"

The Lightning Brothers arrived and their boats tied in with our growing raft. They prepared grills and set out savory flatbreads as our crews mingled and exchanged information. We were startled by loud singing overhead as the fourth crew arrived.

An unsteady gobaloon powered by the singing of its crew floated above an even ricketier ship. A paddlewheel pushed it towards powered by... "Are those fuckin' goblins running on that paddlewheel?" Asked Captain Ghagrad. As they rafted in with us, my orcish friend continued, "There's more goblins on that boat than fish!"

A pretty goblin lass in a brand new hat hopped over to us. "Captain Agaric! I'm Captain Shine of Silver Scales, you can call me Shiny for short! We're the Lucky Seven Salvagers! We won our first bid today!" There were dozens of goblins on their too-small fishing boat. I'd heard of a gobaloon,  but never seen one. I hadn't believed it until now, but the balloon was powered by the off-key and enthusiastic singing of the goblin crew.

"Always glad to meet a new crew, Captain Shiny! This is Captain Head Squisher." I gestured to Ghagrad already spooning adobo over a bowl of rice.

"Nice to meetcha!" he replied through a mouthful of savory pork, "Don't mind the Head Squisher thing. It's a family name!"

I gestured and she joined us. Her crew set up platters of honeyed crickets, fresh berries, and sprouted rat. I politely added some berries and crickets to my plate. Ghagrad immediately added some fungus covered rat to his.

As we ate I started comparing notes, "We've been following the schools of tuna. There's frostfin mixed in! We'll be making a healthy profit today!" 

"We found a pack of leviathan eels to the north," exclaimed Ghagrad. "We've been hunting them with harpoons, but they dive deep. When we follow them, there's something even bigger down there escaping our scans." 

We all turned to the north where the big fleet of Ironshell Operations continued to work, even through the midday meal. Even their zeppelins had the big nets out. It looked like they were methodically dragging every living thing out of the ocean. "They're going to go over the catch limit at this rate." I mentioned. "Marbleface said the grags overpaid for Position 1 and they're trying to break even."

"Stupid idiots are going to piss off something big," growled Ghagrad. "They'd better be careful."

"We started in those waters, but the dwarves muscled us out like we weren't even there!" began Shiny. "Some of my crew haven't even been on the ocean before." She sighed, "It's ok! We're happy with anchovies, cockles, and mud crabs. We don't get a lot of seafood in the tunnels. These will bring us plenty of coin! But I have a few things I can't identify if I could show you?" I nodded and she returned to her ship to get her catch.

I walked over to Herren, picking at a plate of sprouted rat with a confused look on his face. He saw me coming and asked, "Captain, why do you stop to eat? Isn't this a waste of time? You only have one day on this ocean. Shouldn't you be pushing harder to maximize profits?"

I sighed, "Dead men can't spend their profits, Master Herren. Try to ask the crews who don't stop. You can't. They're dead. The sea drowns the greedy same as the lazy. Look closer, we're buying time not wasting it." I pointed out crew members on all the boats checking gear and inspecting their catch. I gestured at Ghagrad's bosun, who'd crossed over to inspect the goblin paddlewheel, making adjustments.

"We're sharing information. Captain Ghagrad already pointed out a pack of leviathan eels that we completely missed and maybe something bigger deeper down! The grags push the Ironshell crew and you know what happens? Dwarves quit. Good salvagers leave for other guilds. Hell, Captain Marbleface, my friend for twenty years, has already asked to join KSS! That's how bad it's gotten. My crew comes back day after day and year after year. Dead men don't spend profits and broken crew don't work."

Herren didn't respond. He just took in the crews sharing food and information. He wrote something in his notebook.

I saw Captain Shiny coming back and I left Herren there to chew on that. As I approached, Shiny proudly held up a bucket "I've never seen prismatic squid like these, but they're really delicious!"

Captain Ghagrad leaned over to look and roared with laughter. "Haw! Oh, you poor little fucks! You ate THAT!"

I glanced in the bucket and immediately recognized the eight-by-two tentacle pattern and the distinctive beak.

"Those are young krakens. Have your gobaloon pick you up and get out of here!"

The color drained out of Shiny's face. She hauled the bucket to the side to toss it over.

"If you already ate one, the momma kraken can smell that. She's gonna chase you no matter what you do."

Ghagrad added, "You're cooked just as much as them baby kraks! But if you can get them to market, they'll buy you two new boats! G'wan! Get outta here!"

Shiny immediately called out in a clear voice, "Goblins! Back to the Lucky Seven! Thank you so much Captains!"

Her crew abandoned their plates and detached their paddlewheel. The singing on the gobaloon took on a desperate pitch as the ship lifted off and wobbled too slowly toward the southeast. 

"Good luck Captain Shiny!" I called out as their off-key singing faded in the distance. 

Ghagrad handed me a shot of orcish whiskey. "Think they'll make it?"

I raised my glass in a toast and downed it. "Depend on if mama wakes up."

We finished the meal, exchanged a few more warnings, and returned to work. The sun had passed its peak and we had two more shifts of fishing left.

As we detached and went our separate ways, I reminded them, "Keep an eye out for krakens, Captains."

Ghagrad nodded, "If we're lucky, only the hatchlings came through. If momma's in the Pit, there's gonna be trouble!"

Shiny and the Lucky Seven were already wobbling off to the southeast as quickly as their songs could take them. 

"Poor Az-cursed bastards!" said Ghagrad, "I wish 'em luck!"

I tipped my cap as Squisher's Scavengers and the Lightning Brothers both headed north back to their waters. 

Just as we were preparing to drop our nets for the second shift, Wethryn surfaced, clicking urgently. "Don't drop the nets Captain, something's wrong. The water's too quiet."

I checked my scope. Northeast the Ironshell fleet was in full force, trying to recoup their expenses. To the southeast I could just make out the flimsy balloon against the rim. 

Then the water erupted. Tentacles burst into the heart of the Ironshell Fleet, flipping over boats and dragging down a zeppelin. A huge shadow in the water swam towards the poor gobaloon. 

My hedron exploded with panicked voices and emergency sirens.

I heard the staticky voice of Captain Marbleface on my hedron. "Agaric! Is that offer to join KSS still open? After this I think I'm gonna take you up on that!"

"Marbleface! I can get there in..."

"Don't bother mate! I'm already done fer. Tell my wife..."

I turned north just in time to see the Ironshell Command break apart as tentacles dragged it under. The silhouettes of dwarf crew jumping into the water amidst smoke and too many tentacles.

Ebrie caught my attention, "Captain, the goblins." To the south the poor gobaloon was barely ahead of an enormous mother kraken.

"Ebrie, take the Ready and our support zeppelins. Evacuate as many Ironshells as you can. Crew evacuate to the Ready. I'm taking the Pride."

"Captain Agaric," said Herren, "you have a cargo hold full of fish."

"And I'm going to ram it right into that kraken!" I grinned. "I wasn't kidding when I told you that people are more important than profits."

"Captain that kraken is after its young. I'm faster than your boat and that pitiful balloon." said Herren. "You rescue the dwarves. I'll help out those goblins." With a gesture, he summoned a cloud of black wings, floated up, and arrowed towards the gobaloon.

"Those little black wings will get him there way before us." said Ebrie. "We can still help the crew of the Ironshell." 

I nodded and looked towards the dwarven fleet. The water was full of dwarves scrambling to stay afloat. Their dense bones and heavy gear threatened to drag them down with their ships. 

I commanded, "Zeppelins, pick us up. The water's not safe anymore. We'll drop lines out of the sky for our fellow salvagers." I turned to my triton scout. "Wethryn, are you okay scouting in the water, or do you..."

She clicked once and dove in, followed by her squad. My crew quickly prepped the Ready, the Catch, and the Haul. Our skyships groaned with the weight of our catches as they pulled us up into the air.

I turned my scope towards the Lucky Seven. The mother kraken was slowly gaining on the poor gobaloon, but Herren was faster. I watched as the golden man briefly landed on the goblin craft.

Herren grabbed the bucket and flew straight towards the Western Pit Wall. The kraken gave chase, churning the water behind him. As he neared the Wall, an inky cloud erupted around him. I could have sworn I saw stars, like he'd torn a hole in reality itself. Then he disappeared. The kraken surfaced, tentacles thrashing in confusion, then sank back down into the deep.

The gobaloon slowly drifted away, finally safe.

We arrived over the sinking ships and burning oil slicks that marked the site of the kraken attack. The water was thick with debris. Desperate dwarves clung to wreckage and flotsam. Wethryn and her scouts swam among them, pulling dwarves to our lowered lines.

The cyclopes worked the winches pulling up dwarves as efficiently as they had been pulling nets full of fish. They sang the same shanty as before. Haul away, haul away. Dwarves instead of fish.

Captain Ghagrad's voice boomed from the deck of the Lusty Serpent, "I didn't think we'd be fishing for dwarves today!"

"Not everything's a joke Ghagrad," I replied on my hedron. "Maybe I'll laugh if we find Marbleface."

"How many?" I asked Ebrie.

"Eighteen so far. Captain Ghagrad has another dozen. The Lightning Brothers have ten."

Forty survivors from a fleet of a hundred. Sixty dead. The greed of the grags had cost sixty lives, including Marbleface.

My hedron buzzed, Shiny's voice came through, shaky but alive. "Captain Agaric! We made it! That man, Herren, saved us!"

"I saw! Did you make it to the rim?"

"We're already there. We just landed at the Bone Gate. Captain, when he grabbed the bucket, he said the strangest thing. He looked at those baby krakens and said 'What a wonderful find.' He was happy to have them!"

I frowned. "He took the bucket with him?"

"Flew off without looking back."

"Well, I'm glad you're safe, Captain Shiny. I hope to see you on the next Harvest Day." 

We limped back to St. F'tor's Gate as the sun dipped towards the horizon. The Zone Authority had cancelled the Day of Harvest due to the danger of krakens. Our holds were still full of frostfin and tuna. The dwarf survivors huddled on our decks, mourning beneath blankets. We'd make our money back, but it meant nothing. I'd lost my friend. 

Back at the Kirinal Salvage Society hangar, I oversaw the unloading of our catch and the dwarven survivors. Ironshell Operations was sending carriages, widows and grags both. I wasn't looking forward to facing either. 

I spotted the goblin clerk from this morning and called him over.

"That bureaucrat you stuck me with this morning, we lost him during the kraken attack. He saved the Lucky Seven's entire crew, flew right into danger. Strange fellow, but brave in the end. You should let the Board know."

The clerk's face went blank. "What bureaucrat was that? I didn't assign anyone to your crew today, Captain."

My stomach dropped. "Young human. Blonde. Called himself Dylan Herren. He had the Board's Seal on his papers."

"Captain, the Board didn't authorize any observers today. I've never heard of a Dylan Herren."

I pulled the papers I had stuffed in my pocket this morning and opened them.

Just blank paper.

No proof he'd even existed. Just the memory of black wings and alien stars.