Path of Ranger: Volume 1 (44 page)

What had started as a simple mix of courage and curiosity became a profession. Rangers appeared everywhere afterward. And, as their leaders Sean and Steven Gellard had founded the one and only institute in the whole Union which had authority over rangers. That organization was called the “Order of Rangers”.

The brothers along with the other members of the Order wrote a list of directions and recommendations for the rangers – the “Ranger Code”. At first it started as a summary of tips for the pilots, helping to operate in space. Then, over the time, the Order of Rangers was integrated into executive government. Ranger Code became an obligatory law for all of the pilots. It got shaped and modified for the government’s benefit, changing the self-purpose which the Gellard brothers had put in it from the beginning.

As a result, “The Twelve Rules of Ranger” laws were issued.

“The Twelve Rules of Ranger”

First Rule: The Order of Ranger is an exclusive agency, which has an authority over rangers. Only the Order of Rangers can give direct orders to space rangers.

Second Rule: a ranger cannot show aggression towards other citizens or residents of the Galaxy Union.

Third Rule: a ranger can protect his life and his property against pirates, other rangers, or any other party, even if it shall lead to the destruction of the other party.

Fourth Rule: piracy on the ranger’s side shall be seen as misconduct of the ‘Second Rule.’ Rangers that conduct pirate activity shall be excluded from rangers’ rows and shall be given a ‘pirate’ status.

Fifth Rule: any objects found in open space, if they aren’t marked as property of other parties, can be claimed as ranger’s property.

Sixth Rule: rangers can conduct a scouting craft. In the case of discovering a space object valuable to the Galaxy Union (e.g. a planet, an asteroid, a comet, etc.) the ranger is up to choose to which race the object shall be entitled to.

Seventh Rule: in the case of joining military operations against the Galaxy Union’s common enemies the ranger shall be given a temporary military status. And he shall be entitled to benefits and permissions equal to the pilots of regular forces.

Eighth Rule: a ranger is obligated to pass annual reports on its activity to any of active ranger centers.

Ninth Rule: a ranger’s achievements in its professional activity shall be evaluated in R-credits. The collection of R-credits shall upgrade the ranger’s qualification level. With the upper levels, a ranger shall be given higher access to classified information. Ranger levels are varied from one to ten.

Tenth Rule: the minimal rate of R-credits annually earned by rangers shall be established by Order of Rangers each Earth year. A rate of payment for R-credits shall be decided commonly by the Order of Rangers and the Galaxy Council. In case a ranger does not reach the minimal rate of R-credits for three years of activity his ranger status shall be removed.

Eleventh Rule: a ranger who reaches the fourth level, shall gain a ‘group leader’ status. Such pilots shall be allowed to form their own ranger-groups. The size of the group cannot extend ten ships.

Twelfth Rule: the combat ranger can leave the battlefield any time he chooses in order to save its own life.

Reading about the ranger craft made JB lose track of time. The night had passed and the sunny morning came along. There wasn’t much of a difference inside the room, though, because of the lighting control.

Against all his resistance, space ranger program had interested the big guy. It seemed like an exciting adventure after all. Only now he could fully appreciate how fortunate he actually was, being brought to the future. Compared to these new possibilities his old life looked flat and pointless.

The sound of a closing door drew JB’s attention. He instantly shut down the projection and turned back. Nea came in. Her indelicacy surprised the mutant at first. After all, one should ring before entering someone’s apartment at least. But then he caught himself on a thought that maybe that wasn’t the case anymore, and there was no such custom in the future.

The girl had brought a large white bag. She walked straight to the cadet, stood in front of him, and confidently looked into his eyes.

“Good morning, JB,” she said cheerfully.

There was something different about her that morning, JB could sense that. Nea was glowing, even though she tried not to expose that.

“Hey. Care for some coffee?” JB said and took a sip.

“No, thanks,” the woman replied. Then, she glanced at his transparent mug. “That’s not coffee, by the way. An essence from the phorongian bugs’ juice. Good for the skin,” she explained. JB stretched the mug away from his lips and put it on the table. “I’ve brought you some new clothes. It’s time to get rid of that garbage you’re wearing.”

Nea scanned him from head to toe once again. Not even taking the damage into account, JB’s outfit would be suited to a twelve year old rather than a grown man.

“Why?” the mutant asked dejectedly. “Why do you wanna trash my things? Do you have any idea what kind shoes this is?” he pointed at those red leather gumshoes. “These are pure leather, red 'Converse Death Star.' Made for motorcycle riding. You think they make such things these days?” the big guy wouldn’t let the woman put in a word. “No, they don’t! In fact, they never did! Because, these are not Converse, but fakes. My man, Lucky, made those stitches himself.”

“Oh, really?” Nea commented sarcastically. “Tell you what… You may take those shoes to the clone center and they would sensitize exact duplicates for you. Just like new, and made with way better materials. Very affordable also.”

“The shoes stay.”

“What about the pants?” she asked. “Those have seen better days for sure.”

“What’s wrong with you, woman?!” the mutant’s resentment went to a new level. “If you just had an idea how many times I used to fall off my bike and stay unharmed thanks to those pants.”

“Didn’t you ever consider driving better or change the kind of transport?”

“This conversation ain’t getting us anywhere,” JB turned away.

“Okay-okay. Don’t be such a baby,” Nea eased a bit, trying to calm down JB. “Maybe you would at least change your t-shirt, this one has too many holes in it. I’ve brought you a brand new one. Here, look.”

She took out a small cubic box from the bag to throw it to JB. After he had pulled out the shirt, the pack sprang, folding. The mutant looked at the shirt in disgust.

“The dude doesn’t wear the sleeves,” he said. “And what about that ‘A’ symbol thing on all those clothes of yours?”

“It’s the logo of Atlantis,” Nea explained. “If you like sleeveless shirts better, it may be…”

The woman was interrupted by the view in front of her. JB was forcefully tearing off those sleeves, like an animal, to turn that brand new piece of cloth into something like his own shirt. It was cleaner, though. Just as the new shirt was ready, he took off the old one to toss it on the table, next to the torn-off sleeves. That was the first time Nea got a look at his bare torso. Ink and scars covered those massive muscles of his. Such sculpted brutality was certainly a rare thing for a girl like her to see.

“Your body,” she spoke when stepping towards him. “So much pain. And your muscles aren’t symmetrical. You have never used the stimulators, indeed.”

“No, I haven’t,” the big guy said being frozen in front of the girl.

Nea came closer, she gently brought her palm to his chest. JB was watching as she almost touched him, and he knew what was supposed to happen the moment she touched his skin. A weakness would strike through her body that instant. She was a second away from finding out what he really was. Common sense advised the mutant to stop her. But he kept standing still. The warm hand of the woman softly laid on his chest. Her fingers started feeling one of the scars on the left side of his chest. A few seconds passed, Nea seemed fine. That was the first time gibsonium allowed another being to get in direct contact with Bridgers.

“You may heal your skin in a repair center. It is going to be clean as new,” the woman suggested, continuing to study the man’s body.

“That ain’t necessary,” JB replied. “I like it better this way.”

The next moment Nea turned back to come to the table where her bag was. JB put on the new t-shirt, he also tried to distract himself from her. He walked to the kitchen corner in search of a real fix of caffeine that he needed since the morning.

“Get ready, we have a lot of things to do,” Nea said opening the bag.

While JB stood before the magic kitchen cabinet that treated him with beverages, trying to ask it for a real cup of coffee, Nea took out a silver pack from the bag. There was a device inside, which looked similar to a hand mixer. The girl turned it on and got to programming it via the side panel.

“Have you brought my gun?” JB asked. He walked back to her carrying another black drink in his hand.

“We’ve talked about it. You can’t have a weapon here, yet,” she insisted on the previous conclusion. “Did you study the documents I had left for you?”

“Yeah,” he responded. “I went through some history records too. Still, I don’t get what’s ya beef with those ‘frolls guys.’”

JB took a sip.

“Um-m… That one is not coffee eith…” Nea paid attention to his drink.

But just as she tried to tell JB about that one, he stopped her with a hand gesture, not willing to know what was inside. The mutant just put down the cup, next to the previous one. Nea continued.

“There was no beef, as far as we know. They just attacked us. Still, that isn’t the issue here.”

“Oh, yeah? What is?”

“That the Galaxy Union had never had such an intense enemy before. We’re losing the war. That’s the main problem.” Nea finished tuning the device. “Give me your left hand.”

“Why? Didn’t you take enough of my blood the last time? What do you need my hand for?”

“This is a DNA marker injector. You’ve already been given an ID of a citizen. An ID tag gets to be implanted into the left wrist.”

Not lingering too long, JB moved his hand forward towards the girl. She squeezed his forearm firmly with her one hand and put the end of the device to his wrist with another. When the button was pushed in the spot of contact, the skin got burned. Nea expected a strong kickback from JB’s side, because of the pain, so she held him strongly. But he never flinched a muscle. He was just standing there calmly, looking straight into her eyes. The girl was amazed by that manly grit of his once again. The blue shade of his eyes was bringing peace to her, and yet they had some alertness in it, along with wonder. Her track of time was lost, Nea forgot about the marker processing for a moment. Now she was just burning his skin. When snapped back, the woman rushed to take away the device. There was an illustration left on the skin. It consisted of random dots inside a circle. Looked like stars in the sky.

“A new tat. Cool!” JB said.

“It’s all done. Now you are a sterling citizen of the GU. All roads are open for you now,” Nea narrated while putting the device back in the bag.

“How can I test it?”

“At the terminal, for example.”

JB came to the already well-known device to stand on its surface. The projection showed him his profile. It was way different from the temporary user, which he registered at night. There was everything: a 3D model of him, the name, age, weight, citizenship, et cetera. No ‘Jerry Bridgers’ there, in the name field, just good old ‘JB.’

“I’ve noticed one of your tattoos on the left hand,” Nea addressed him while they were getting ready. “A pentagram with the writing ‘Say Hello to the Devil.’”

“Yeah, what about it?”

“If I recall correctly, from the history of your planet, during the era you lived in, there was a massive theological movement. Two characters: God and the Devil. The first one was good, the second one – evil. Doesn’t a pentagram symbolize belonging to the satanic movement?”

JB stalled for a second in thinking.

“Well, first of all, there were no ‘good’ or ‘evil’ ones. They all were just a bunch of hypocrites and liars,” JB started breaking down his point of view. “Secondly, these words aren’t related to the religion whatsoever. It’s from a song.”

“And the pentagram?”

“I don’t know, it was kinda spontaneous,” JB shrugged. “It looked cool, I had room on the skin, plus, the Winchester brothers recommended it… So…”

When all of the stuff was gathered (the hybrid iPhone, the fake iPod and stolen earphones) JB made sure that he turned off everything inside the apartment and they went out.

“So what’s the plan?” he asked, walking through the hallway.

“I’m going to take you to the local rangers association, where your recruitment program will start.”

The mutant felt somewhat upset when he found out that she wouldn’t be with him for the rest of the day.

“What about you?”

“I have work to do, remember? You’re not my exclusive concern.”

“But ain’t I your primary concern?” JB’s brows went up along with the smile.

“Let’s move. You’re going to be late for registration,” she smiled back.

On his way to the Atlantis’s local ranger center, JB didn’t think about the curriculum yet. His mind was occupied with the bigger picture. What did he sign his life for and why?