She winked at the dwarf's arresting officer.

'Nice to see you're staying alert.'

The elf blushed, kneeling to pick up his wallet and badge.

Holly forged past Root's office, hoping she would make it to her cubicle before…

'SHORT! GET IN HERE!'

Holly sighed. Ah well. Here we go again.

Stowing her helmet under her arm, Holly smoothed the creases from her uniform and stepped into Commander Root's office.

Root's face was purple with rage. This was more or less his general state of existence, a fact that had earned him the nickname 'Beetroot'. There was an office pool running on how long he had before 36his heart exploded. The smart money was on half a century, at the outside.

Commander Root was tapping the moonometer on his wrist.

'Well?' he demanded. 'What time do you call this?'

Holly could feel her own face colouring. She was barely a minute late. There were at least a dozen officers on this shift who hadn't even reported in yet. But Root always singled her out for persecution.

'The thoroughfare,' she mumbled lamely. 'There were four lanes down.'

'Don't insult me with your excuses!' roared the commander. 'You know what the city centre is like! Get up a few minutes earlier!'

It was true, she did know what Haven was like. Holly Short was a city elf born and bred. Since the humans began experimenting with mineral drilling, more and more fairies had been driven out of the shallow forts and into the depth and security of Haven City. The metropolis was overcrowded and under-serviced. And now there was a lobby to allow automobiles in the pedestrianized city centre. As if the place wasn't smelly enough already with all those country gnomes lumbering around the place.

Root was right. She should get up a bit earlier. But she wouldn't.

Not until everybody else was forced to.

'I know what you're thinking,' said Root. 'Why am I picking on you every day? Why don't I ever bawl out those other layabouts?'

Holly said nothing, but agreement was written all over her face.

'I'll tell you why, shall I?'

Holly risked a nod.

'It's because you're a girl.'

Holly felt her fingers curl into fists. She knew it!

'But not for the reasons you think,' continued Root. 'You are the first girl in Recon. Ever. You are a test case. A beacon. There are a million fairies out there watching your every move. There are a lot of hopes riding on you. But there is a lot of prejudice against you too. The future of law enforcement is in your hands. And at the moment, I'd say it was a little heavy.'

Holly blinked. Root had never said anything like this before.

Usually it was just 'Fix your helmet', 'Stand up straight', blah blah blah.

'You have to be the best you can be, Short, and that has to be better than anybody else.' Root sighed, sinking into his swivel chair. 'I don't know, Holly. Ever since that Hamburg affair.'

Holly winced. The Hamburg affair had been a total disaster. One of her perps had skipped out to the surface and tried to bargain with the Mud People for asylum. Root had to stop time, call in the Retrieval Squad, and do four memory wipes. A lot of police time wasted. All her fault.

The commander took a form from his desk. 'It's no use. I've made up my mind. I'm putting you on Traffic and bringing in Corporal

Frond.'

'Frond!' exploded Holly. 'She's a bimbo. An airhead. You can't make her the test case!'

Root's face turned an even deeper shade of purple.

'I can and I will. Why shouldn't I? You have never given me your best…Either that or your best just isn't good enough. Sorry, Short, you had your chance…'

The commander turned back to his paperwork. The meeting was over. Holly could only stand there, aghast. She'd blown it. The best career opportunity she was ever likely to get and she'd tossed it in the gutter. One mistake and her future was past. It wasn't fair. Holly felt an uncharacteristic anger take hold of her, but she swallowed it. This was no time to lose her temper.

'Commander Root, sir. I feel I deserve one more chance.'

Root didn't even look up from the paperwork. 'And why's that?'

Holly took a deep breath. 'Because of my record, sir. It speaks for itself, apart from the Hamburg thing. Ten successful recons. Not a single memory wipe or time-stop, apart from…'

'The Hamburg thing,' completed Root.

Holly took a chance. 'If I were a male — one of your precious sprites — we wouldn't even be having this conversation.'

Root glanced up sharply. 'Now, just a minute, Captain Short — '

He was interrupted by the bleeping of one of the phones on his desk. Then two, then three. A giant viewscreen crackled into life on the wall behind him.

Root jabbed the speaker button, putting all the callers on conference.

'Yes?'

'We've got a runner.'

Root nodded. 'Anything on Scopes?'

Scopes was the shop name for the shrouded trackers attached to American communications satellites.

'Yep,' said caller two. 'Big blip in Europe. Southern Italy. No shield.'

Root cursed. An unshielded fairy could be seen by mortal eyes.

That wasn't so bad if the perp was humanoid.

'Classification?'

'Bad news, Commander,' said the third caller. 'We got us a rogue troll.'

Root rubbed his eyes. Why did these things always happen on his watch? Holly could understand his frustration. Trolls were the meanest of the deep-tunnel creatures. They wandered the labyrinth, preying on anything unlucky enough to cross their path. Their tiny brains had no room for rules or restraint. Occasionally one found its way into the shaft of a pressure elevator. Usually the concentrated air current fried them, but sometimes one survived and was blasted to the surface. Driven crazy by pain and even the tiniest amount of light, they would generally proceed to destroy everything in their path.

Root shook his head rapidly, recovering himself.

'OK, Captain Short. Looks like you get your chance. You're running hot, I take it?'

'Yes, sir,' lied Holly, all too aware that Root would suspend her immediately if he knew she'd neglected the Ritual.

'Good. Then sign yourself out a side-arm and proceed to the target area.'

Holly glanced at the viewscreen. Scopes were sending high-res shots of an Italian fortified town. A red dot was moving rapidly through the countryside towards the human population.

'Do a thorough reconnaissance and report in. Do not attempt a retrieval. Is that understood?'

'Yessir.'

'We lost six men to troll attacks last quarter. Six men. That was below ground, in familiar territory.'

'I understand, sir.'

Root pursed his lips doubtfully.

'Do you understand, Short? Do you really?'

'I think so, sir.'

'Have you ever seen what a troll can do to flesh and bone?'

'No, sir. Not up close.'

'Good. Let's not make today your first time.'

'Understood.'

Root glared at her. 'I don't know why it is, Captain Short, but whenever you start agreeing with me, I get decidedly nervous.'

Root was right to be nervous. If he'd known how this straightforward Recon assignment was going to turn out, he would probably have retired there and then. Tonight, history was going to be made. And it wasn't the discovery-of-radium, first-man-on-the-moon happy kind of history. It was the Spanish-Inquisition, here-comes-the-Hindenburg bad kind of history. Bad for humans and fairies. Bad for everyone.

Holly proceeded directly to the chutes. Her normally chatty mouth was a grim slash of determination. One chance, that was it. She would allow nothing to break her concentration.

There was the usual queue of holiday visa hopefuls stretching to the corner of Elevator Plaza, but Holly bypassed it by waving her badge at the waiting line. A truculent gnome refused to yield.