“Hey, nice to meet you. Keegan, right?” Gregory Cass, a tall Cassowary, extended a friendly hand.
O’Neil shook it. “Greg. Nice to meet you too.”
The two were standing in an office littered with paper. Old Tributaries were pinned to the walls, new drafts and piles of other papers were everywhere. Other students were sitting around writing, editing articles, or gluing pictures.
“This is quite an operation you have going here,” commented O’Neil.
Gregory smiled. “The Tributary is hard work, I won’t lie, but it’s very satisfying. Every day we manage to get a high quality publication out to the student body, helping initiate casual conversation, providing crosswords, Sudoku, and horoscopes, and keeping everyone up to date with national and local news. College separates someone from the outside world, and we do our part to make that transition easier.”
O’Neil chuckled politely. “You don’t need to sell me the job; I already want a position.”
Gregory smiled. “That was less of a sales pitch than a clarification of the amount of dedication you’ll need to put in this job. Everyone works long hours daily, even during finals week; schoolwork isn’t an excuse for not meeting a deadline. What were you hoping to do?”
“Investigative journalism,” answered O’Neil.
“Most people who walk through the door think they want to do that, but most find a different aspect of journalism that appeals to them more. I started off as a photographer, and Felicity, my girlfriend, learned her true calling when she started editing.”
A white rabbit looked up briefly from the article she was marking down and smiled. O’Neil was surprised that Gregory had such a hot girlfriend.
Gregory continued, “We can give you a sample assignment and see how well you do. If you finish a quality article in good time, we’ll contact you again. At first it’s always a deal-by-deal basis.”
“If I may request my first assignment, I’d like to investigate Dragonstorm,” O’Neil replied. “I saw your leading article in the latest Tributary, and it interested me.
Gregory frowned. “Dragonstorm is a menace, one of the worst things that has happened to this school. They started up the same year I joined the Tributary, and under my leadership we’ve managed to hold them at bay and make sure they can’t just run wild.”
“But who are they? And what exactly have they done?”
“Nothing major, since the first incident. Follow me.”
Gregory led O’Neil into a backroom. Opening the bottom file cabinet, he pulled out an old newspaper article.
“Two years ago, a shipment of chemicals that were supposed to be delievered to the science department was electronically rerouted, and the chemicals were dropped off at an unknown location. Through my contacts in the postal service, I tracked down the location and learned that four college students had picked up the chemicals on behalf of the science department. They matched the descriptions of these students.”
He pointed to blown-up photographs of two humans, one brown bear, and a beagle. “Greydon Zenarchis, Howard Hicks, Pietr Kozlov, and Lester Montgomery. I thought it was them because they were the only members of a self-made club known as Dragonstorm. I questioned them, and they claimed to have no knowledge of the chemicals’ whereabouts.”
Gregory took out the manila file and showed O’Neil how thick it was. “However, since then I’ve noticed that other mysterious events seem to keep involving them. Other university purchased products, such as machinery and electronics, have disappeared in the same way. In addition, reliable sources have told me Dragonstorm members are constantly missing classes, but their attendance records are spotless. We also have an image of a beagle matching Montgomery’s height and fur color walking with Tyler DeNick, who was later arrested when it came to be known that he headed the Three Rivers’ branch of a smuggling ring.”
O’Neil looked through all the papers. “So, is all of this evidence inconclusive?”
“Well, yes, if we could get any of it to stick, we’d be able to get rid of them. But so far we can’t.” Gregory looked at O’Neil. “Are you sure you feel ready to take these people on? I’d feel more comfortable giving you a simpler assignment.”
“Trust me, where I come from, you have to be good at snooping if you wanted to survive,” O’Neil assured him. “Where would I be able to scout them out?”
“They hold daily meetings in a secluded study room on the 4th floor of the library,” Gregory said. “Do you know where that is?”
* * *
From the desk in the corner, O’Neil could get an angled glimpse into Dragonstorm’s study room. He could see better, but he didn’t want to crane his head too obviously.
Each individual looked rather generic; all could easily pass through a crowd unnoticed. He guessed the human doing all the talking was Zenarchis. Sadly, he couldn’t hear anything they were saying from this distance, but he was already thinking of a way to solve that.
After about an hour, the four got to their feet and started to leave the room. O’Neil got up and walked over to them.
Zenarchis saw him coming, and warily motioned to Kozlov, the gigantic brown bear. Kozlov moved to block O’Neil’s path.
“What do you want?” he growled.
“I’d like to speak to Zenarchis,” O’Neil said unflinchingly. Despite himself he felt a flicker of fear at being so physically outclassed, though it didn’t show.
“We don’t do interviews.”
“It’s not an interview. I’d like to join Dragonstorm,” O’Neil said.
Kozlov laughed. “We’re not accepting job applications either.”
Montgomery, who could hear their conversation with his canine hearing, was also chuckling.
Zenarchis approached. “What’s going on?” he asked.
“This freshman wants to join Dragonstorm,” snickered Kozlov.
Zenarchis was notamused. “What are his skills?”
Kozlov shrugged.
“Contacts,” O’Neil supplied. “I’m street-smart, and I’m good at making wide webs of resources. I’ve only been here a day, and I already have ins with a local gang and the school newspaper. I could expand my influence and, for example, get the paper off your back.”
“What is your major?”
“Bioengineering.”
“We already have a bioengineering major.” Zenarchis motioned to Hicks. “And he’s also majoring in chemical physics.”
“I’m minoring in electrical engineering,” O’Neil added.
“So is Montgomery. He’s double-majoring in business and mechanical engineering.”
“I’ll double-major with something else, then,” O’Neil offered. “I can handle the workload.”
“But you are not already?” Zenarchis asked. “Then you are not of any use to use. Kindly do not bother us again.”
“Wait,” started O’Neil, but Kozlov pushed him roughly out of the way of the others, and blocked him from even seeing the others until the group had left the room.
O’Neil watched them go. Unlike when SSO rejected him, this time he didn’t feel angry, but motivated. This Dragonstorm group was his future, and he resolved at that moment that he would find a way to get the group to agree to let him join.
