Young Writers Society

The bounty for Elliott Bei popped up about a week after the Independent Titan attack, almost immediately after the paycheck came in for Crane and Shell’s recent job in the Tubai system. Hers was a special case among all the ‘wanted’ posts, which began with all-caps and frequently mentioned reward sums. Elliott Bei was listed as a missing minor, and her notice came in delicate lettering with a tidy sum of half a million USD listed only in the case summary. I suppose her connection with Andra Media was enough to draw attention to her bounty listing.

I showed Crane and Shell the bounty for Elliott Bei almost as soon as I found it. After all, locating a missing child seemed right up their do-good-by-bounty-hunting alley.

The pair had curled around me, their tails criss crossing in front of my stumps, and Shell rested his chin on my head while Crane lounged half on top of Shell’s shoulders. I remember that Elliott Bei’s notice was at the top of the bounty forum for longer than it should have been. Perhaps Andra Media had paid extra to push back the releases of other bounties so that they could keep the top spot on the page. At the time, I was mostly just glad I didn’t have to scroll to find her bounty listing.

“There,” I said, tapping on the link to her page. “Isn’t it weird that Elliott Bei is listed under the bounty section as a missing person?”

Crane’s rumbling half-purr, half-meow translated into a suspicious hum, and his one of his tails flicked quickly against Shell’s feet.

“It is odd,” Shell murmured, curling in a little tighter. “Zoom in on the text for us, will you?”

Having already skimmed through the notice, I fidgeted as my parents read, impatient to hear their verdict. I always loved it when Crane and Shell took the cases I pointed out to them.

However, as they scrolled through the text, the two made disapproving growls, and their tails kept twitching, tapping on the floor the way an angry businessman might tap a finger on a table. Something about Elliott Bei’s bounty made them uncomfortable.

“We will go talk to Andra Media,” Crane declared, once he had finished reading. He shifted his chin off of my head and nosed at Shell’s front paws. “I want to see what these people really think and how many of their words are only half-true.”

I think I nearly fell over. “We’re going to actually see the Andra Media headquarters?!”

“Yes, little one,” Shell said. He rolled off of his husband and stalked up the loading ramp of the Ink, claws clicking on the metal station floor. “The job looks good, but something about it seems dishonest.”

“What part?” I asked, scrambling to turn over and follow him onboard. “The way she’s listed? As a missing person on the bounty forum?”

Crane nudged me onto the ends of my stumps and trailed after me as I climbed the ramp. “We will tell you after we attempt to speak with the Andra Media people, but yes, that is part of it.” Then, with a loud yowl, he called up for Shell to begin a message to whoever had posted Elliott Bei’s bounty.

For the next two weeks and five days, I badgered my parents with questions about this case. What would they do if they decided not to track down Elliott Bei? Would I get to meet Andra? By the end of the first week, I think Crane and Shell regretted making the trip to Titan while Saturn was so far from the earthling fold monitor.

And then suddenly we arrived at the Andra Media headquarters. The place was a giant work of art, a long, glittering tube of metal with great windows made of colored solar glass and detailed reliefs carved into every steel surface. I imagined that flying through the center would feel like swimming through a kaleidoscope.

For obvious reasons, the second time I visited, I did not find the place quite so magical, but when I rolled off of the Ink that first time I saw the Andra Media headquarters and saw the glittering interior of the visitor’s docking bay, I was absolutely in awe. It looked as though the walls had diamonds mixed into the steel walls, and the bay was so open it might have had space for three or four shipping barges.

A long line of black-clad guards met us at as soon as my parents and I disembarked. As we followed them through a grand, sparkling hallway with constellations etched into the floor, Shell poked his head over the armrest of my wheelchair and gave me a warning.

“Do not say anything, Tejal,” he said. “Only watch. And then, see if you can understand the decision Crane and I end up making. Alright?”

I nodded, and one of the guards shot me a look. “What’s going on there?” she asked, voice low, like she was trying to be intimidating.

I know I told her some lie, and she only half bought it, but the walk was hardly important. It wasn’t until we reached the meeting place that I actively paid attention and tried to remember everything.

The meeting room had a low ceiling heavily embellished with iridescent inlays and large quartz crystals. In the center was a long table surrounded by cushy office chairs. There had been no spaces left for my wheelchair, or spots with benches for Crane and Shell to lounge on. A few other bounty hunters, earthlings and otherwise, stood about the room, their attentions trained on the large, wooden double doors at the far end of the table.

A few minutes later, the Andra Media representatives walked in. They wore their business best—black blazers with black ties and black, shiny Oxfords—and walked so perfectly and uncannily in-sync that they felt like some kind of robot army. Then, behind the six people in blazers was a long, lean woman with shocking blue hair in an uncomfortably clean, white dress.

She took a seat at the table while the people in black remained standing, three on either side of the room. None of the bounty hunters sat, except for a grungy-faced man with broad shoulders and a stocky woman with giant hoop earrings. They glared at each other as they sat.

“So,” the blue-haired woman started. She steepled her fingers and rested her elbows on the table. “You all are here to ask a few questions about the case regarding Elliott Bei’s disappearance.  I have a few smell, DNA, and fingerprint samples available for use, should anyone need them.” The lady looked over at Crane and Shell and tilted her head. “I’m sure anyone else can identify Elliott through photos or facial structure software. We can also provide some of Andra’s information to backup existing data about Elliott.”

Around the room, the other bounty hunters nodded, their faces stoic. I could not tell who had come to extract additional information for tracking down Elliott and who had come to pry into the oddities of her bounty listing.

The earthling woman with the hoops raised a hand, sort of. “How will information on Elliott Bei’s whereabouts be rewarded?”

“After she is brought in,” Blue-Hair said, “we will divvy up the bounty accordingly.”

The woman with the hoop earrings frowned, and I don’t remember her speaking again that day, except to ask a few odd questions about child labor at the very end of the meeting. A lone tyran asked about any other existing relatives to whom Elliott might go, but apparently she and Andra had been, in effect, adopted from abusive parents.

Crane lifted one tail up about halfway through the meeting and nudged me in case I needed to translate for him. “Why is Elliott Bei advertised as a missing minor when she has multiple criminal charges being brought against her? Additionally, how does a fifteen-year-old girl manage to steal so much property, physical and intellectual, that you feel the need to make the reward for bringing her to you so high?”

The representative pursed her lips. “The items she stole are heavily restricted. I cannot release that information to you.”

“Also,” Crane continued, his voice growing deeper, “I noticed that you did not have your bounty listing authorized by the international courts. I understand that Titan is not yet officially recognized, but your corporation is large enough that you could still go through official corridors on this matter.”

“We would like Elliott back as soon as possible,” the blue-haired woman bit out. “Andra has been upset at her disappearance, and the earthling international courts are slow. However, we are currently in the process of authorization.”

Crane and Shell let out twin growls of disappointment. They had wanted a little more information, though at the time I could not figure out what they were trying to find out.

- A Life Unfolded: the story of Tejal Sethi