 
Sugar And Spice And Not So Nice

Janet McNulty

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or location is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

Sugar And Spice And Not So Nice

Smashwords Edition

Copyright © 2012 Janet McNulty

Cover Illustration by Robert M. Henry

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author's rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

For any who have ever met a ghost.
Contents

Title Page

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Thank you for reading!

About the Author

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# Chapter

##  1

My name is Mellow Summers and I am twenty-six years old. I was never one to believe in ghosts, but all that changed the day I decided to attend a university up in Vermont. I don't know why I wanted to go to Vermont, considering that I hate the cold. I guess I just wanted to get away from my parents for a while, who had made it their mission in life to tell me how to live. Anyway, like I said, I never believed in ghosts. That is, not until I met Rachel.

It was a beautiful September day when I drove into the apartment complex where I had recently signed a lease. I had no desire to live in the dorms with a bunch of teenagers who had just left home, and were busy living it up at the bars. With my own place, I figured I'd be able to study and have my peace and quiet.

I parked my clunker in the first available space in the parking lot.

"Hey, Mel," yelled my friend Jackie as she ran up to me while I heaved my suitcase out of the backseat. Jackie decided to come to Vermont with me. She wasn't attending classes, but insisted that she needed a change in scenery. I was happy to have a friend with me and an extra person to help with the rent.

"Mel," Jackie said, "you made it. Mr. Carver is waiting for us upstairs."

I followed Jackie up the stairs to the second floor where our apartment was. It was a simple two bedroom, two bathroom flat. I wasn't about to complain since we were only paying $600 a month and it was already furnished.

"Ladies," Mr. Carver greeted us at the door.

I dropped my suitcase, panting from the climb. I really needed some exercise.

"Mr. Carver," I said, "did we forget to sign something?"

"No," he replied. "I just wanted to make certain that you two got settled and to give you these keys." He plopped the keys in my outstretched hand.

"Hey, Mr. Carver, doesn't the average rent for a place like this run a few hundred higher?" asked Jackie.

"Are you complaining about the rent?"

"No," replied Jackie, "I just wondered why you are so willing to rent this to us so cheap."

Mr. Carver sighed heavily. I could have smacked Jackie for this. Why ask such a question when you get a great deal? "The former tenant who lived here was murdered," said Mr. Carver. "Some believe that her spirit haunts this place. By the way, your lease is for one year and there will be no deposit refund if you choose to break it."

"Geez, grouchy isn't he," said Jackie as Mr. Carver left.

"Did you have to ask him about the rent?" I asked.

"I was just curious," said Jackie as we hauled our stuff inside.

The apartment was beautifully furnished. The entrance led us straight into the living room, which was filled with two fluffy couches and an entertainment set. To the right lay the kitchen, complete with dishes and pots and pans. To the left was the hallway, taking you straight to the bedrooms and bathrooms.

"I don't care if this place is haunted," said Jackie as she plopped down on the couch. "You couldn't pay me to leave this place."

Admiring the décor of the apartment, I shared Jackie's sentiment. This was a nice place, and affordable. What more could a college kid want?

"Drop your stuff," said Jackie jumping to her feet. "Let's go for a drive around town and see what the locals are up to."

I didn't argue with her. Going for a drive seemed like a perfect idea for such a beautiful, sunny day. We moseyed along downtown, eyeing all of the small shops and cafes. Jackie became more excited with each new shop she found. She loved shopping. As for me, I only shopped when necessary.

We had been friends since we were in high school. Jackie was always the picture perfect model and very outgoing. With her long black hair and Asian features, she was gorgeous and she knew how to dress it up. Compare that to my shyness and typical outfit of jeans and a t-shirt. As for doing my hair, I usually threw it in a ponytail and called it good. But we became fast friends. Jackie always had my back. Her spunkiness helped me get rid of a few unfavorable boyfriends and some of it rubbed off on me. I was overjoyed when she agreed to come with me to Vermont.

"Oh, look at that shop," exclaimed Jackie. She pulled into a parking space and we hopped out of the car. We strolled into the store. Jackie immediately grabbed a teal green jacket off of a rack and held it up to me.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Seeing if this fits you," she replied. "The color matches your eyes perfectly. And it's only twenty dollars. Now we need a new blouse and slacks to match. And don't forget the shoes."

"Jackie, I don't have the money for this."

"Don't worry about it. I got it."

"Where did you get the money?"

"I have my secrets."

Reluctantly, I allowed Jackie to pull me from rack to rack. She found a purple blouse that complimented the jacket. Before we were done, Jackie managed to fit me into a pair of black slacks and ballet flats. Seventy dollars later I had a complete outfit to start off the new semester. I had to hand it to Jackie. The girl knew how to shop and she was thrifty about it. She could buy three articles of clothing and manage to get five outfits out of it.

We took our purchases and sat down at an outdoor café for some supper. By the time the sun had set, we arrived back at our apartment and that was when the trouble started.

"What the..." began Jackie as we walked through the door.

The place looked like it had been ransacked. The couch pillows had been thrown across the room. Our things were spread everywhere. In the kitchen, the cabinet doors hung open, which was odd since they had magnetic locks.

"What happened?" I breathed.

"Maybe the ghost did it," joked Jackie.

"Don't even," I scolded her. "I'm calling the cops."

The police arrived within thirty minutes. They took pictures, asked us if anything was stolen, and then left.

"Is that it?" I asked the uniformed officer as he walked out the door.

"There isn't much we can do, ma'am," he replied. "There have been a few burglaries in the area, but we haven't been able to catch the guys. I'm sure it won't happen again. Just keep the door locked."

Thanks for the advice, I thought as I closed the door behind him. "I can't believe he called me ma'am."

"I know," snickered Jackie. "You're an old mammy ma'am."

I smacked her with a pillow. "Help me clean this place up."

We spent the next several hours picking everything up and putting it back. Afterward, we both crashed on the couch and fell fast asleep.

# Chapter

##  2

The next morning I woke with a start. Eight AM and I had an eight thirty class to get to. I jumped off the couch, knocking Jackie over.

"Hey," she whined.

I ignored her and quickly changed into some clean clothes, grabbed my keys, and ran out the door.

Luckily, the college wasn't far away and I was there in 15 minutes. I managed to squeak into the class just as the professor started speaking.

"Cutting it close," said the guy next to me as I slipped into a seat.

I just smiled in response and pulled out a notebook and pen. "Yeah, well, my alarm never went off."

"That's the problem with alarm clocks. My name is Greg Dotherson."

"Mellow Summers."

"Mellow."

"Most people call me Mel," I said. I couldn't stop staring at the man. He was beyond good looking and had perfect teeth.

"Well, Mel, nice to meet you."

"When you two are finished with your conversation, we'd like to continue." The professor's voice echoed through the room, effectively shutting us up. Apparently, we had interrupted his welcome to the class speech. Greg and I both turned toward the front, trying not to giggle. It was like being in high school all over again, including the stares.

The professor went on with his speech. His name was Professor Vincent. I just called him Vincent for short. For a guy in his forties, he was rather handsome as well. Hell, all these hot guys and I looked like I just crawled out of a garbage can. My self-consciousness made me miss most of Vincent's speech.

"Hey, it's time to go," said Greg, nudging my shoulder. "You look like you were a million miles away."

I gathered my stuff and left with Greg.

"You from around here?" asked Greg.

"No, I moved here to go to school," I replied. "I worked at a diner after high school graduation to save some money for college. And now, here I am."

"You live on campus?"

"No."

"I'm not trying to pry."

"With all these questions," I said.

"Okay. Maybe I was prying a little."

"I live in the Alamont Apartments with my friend Jackie."

"Really? That's where I live."

"Now you're pulling my leg," I said.

"No, I'm not. I swear," Greg said. "I'm thirty and I finally got around to getting my college degree. I don't care for the rowdiness of the dorms so I got an apartment at the Alamont. Second floor, number 215."

I couldn't believe it. He lived in number 215 right across the hall from me. What are the chances? "My apartment is 214."

"The dead girl's place?"

"You're not going to tell me it's haunted too are you?"

"No, it's just that place has sat empty more often than it's been occupied," said Greg. "The landlord has had some difficulty renting it. Not everyone wants an apartment that was formerly occupied by someone who was murdered. And tenants in there never stay very long."

"She wasn't killed inside it!"

"No, no. Her body was found on campus. But people get superstitious."

"Tell me about the girl," I asked, my curiosity getting the better of me.

"Her name was Rachel. Nice girl, but she could get a bit wild. Anyway, come October it will have been a year since her murder. The police never found out who did it and so no arrests were made. It's just become a cold case file.

"It's too bad, too, because she had a lot going for her. She was getting ready to graduate with her degree when it happened."

Suddenly, I felt sorry for this Rachel. And somewhat guilty for taking what had been her apartment. I checked my watch and realized I was late for my next class. What a great start I was off to this semester. "I need to run," I said, "but it was nice meeting you. Perhaps I'll see you around."

It was well past suppertime by the time I walked into the apartment. The smell of spaghetti and garlic bread greeted me. Jackie had dinner all prepared. I sat down at the table and reveled in the aroma of a good meal. "This is good," I said as I dug into the pasta.

"Guess what? I have a surprise." Jackie jumped up and down with excitement. Apparently, she had been waiting all day for me to get home. "I got a job!"

"So soon? How'd you do it?"

"Well, I walked into this shop, and this guy was making a fuss. Anyway, I told him to shut his mouth and be more polite. I was probably more forceful than necessary. Anyway, the manager saw the whole thing and hired me on the spot. I am now a sales clerk."

I just shook my head. Only Jackie could kick someone's butt and get a job out of the deal. "How much does it pay?"

"Ten bucks an hour and it's fulltime so I get benefits. Plus, the manager said that if I knew a friend who needed a job to bring them by. So you and me got jobs."

"What about my classes?" I asked.

"Taken care of," said Jackie as though I had asked a stupid question. "I told him that you were attending classes at the university. He said it was no problem. On the days you don't have school, you can work. Our pay will be enough to cover expenses."

I had to hand it to Jackie. We've only been here for two days and already she found us both jobs. But, she has always been good at getting what she wants. "Where are we working?"

"At the Candle Shoppe. We drove past it yesterday."

"You're a piece of work."

"So what did you do today?"

"Well, I met this guy."

"And you thought I'd been busy," said Jackie. "Is he cute? Did you ask him out?"

"One at a time." I held up my hand to stop her questioning. "Yes, he is very cute and he lives right across the hall from us, in apartment 215."

"No way," Jackie exclaimed.

"Way," I said. "He told me about the girl that used to live here."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah, her name was Rachel and she went to the college here in town. She was killed last October. Her body was found on campus and the police never found out who murdered her."

"That's a bummer," said Jackie with her mouth full of garlic bread. "You sure you want to stay here?"

"I'm sure I'll be fine. Besides, it happened almost a year ago. What could possibly happen to me?"

"That is your first mistake. Never ask the 'what can go wrong' question. Anyway, I'm off to the shower. I have an early day tomorrow and so do you."

I continued eating my spaghetti after Jackie left. I heard the water turn on and figured she was right. I should think about going to bed. I cleaned up the dishes and put them in the sink. When I turned around, I nearly screamed. Standing before me was a woman of about my height, black skin and gorgeous black braids. She wore knee high boots, a knee length skirt, and a short sleeve, belted jacket.

"How did you get in here?" I demanded.

Instantly, the woman vanished. I couldn't believe my eyes. Had I just seen a ghost?

A knock sounded at the door. I jumped. Cautiously, I opened the door and there stood Greg, holding a platter with a cake on it. It was Devil's Food Cake, one of my favorites, and it had a rose decoration on it.

"I, uh, got in a baking mood and ended up baking a bunch of cakes. Since most people like chocolate, I thought maybe you might want one."

I took the cake, still speechless from my ghost encounter just a moment ago. "Thanks," I said.

"And I was wondering if you wanted to go out sometime."

Unfortunately, his question didn't register and I ended up closing the door in his face. I put the cake on the counter, still wondering what had just happened.

"Well that was wonderful," said a voice behind me.

Startled, I whirled around. The same woman had just reappeared. "Who are you?"

"Rachel. And this was my apartment," said the woman. "I can't believe you! A man brings you a cake with a rose and you slam the door in his face."

"What?"

"He was trying to ask you out, you dummy."

Suddenly, I remembered the cake and Greg asking me on a date. I ran to the door and flung it open. Of course, he wasn't there.

"Well, go knock on his door."

"You still here?" I said.

"I never left," said Rachel with her arms folded. "Go on. Apologize to him."

What if--," my words were cut off as Rachel shoved me toward Greg's door. I crashed into it with a loud bang. Suddenly, I had a headache. My knee throbbed as well.

The door opened and there stood Greg. God, he was gorgeous.

"Greg, I, umm, I'm sorry about earlier. Before you knocked on my door something had startled me and I guess I was still freaked when you asked me out. I'd love to go on a date with you, if you still want to."

"You like Mexican?" he said with a smile.

Hell, yes, I did. I'd like anything as long as he served it. "I love Mexican," I said, practically melting.

"Seven o'clock okay with you?"

"I'll be waiting."

"It's a date," said Greg. He closed the door and I went back to my apartment.

"Just throw yourself at him," said Rachel.

"What?" I just stood there looking like an idiot.

"By the way, you're welcome. And you might want to find a really nice outfit and wipe that stupid expression off your face." Rachel dissolved into thin air.

I couldn't believe it. Not only did I just speak with a ghost, but she helped me get a date, and then proceeded to offer me fashion advice. Could this day get any more interesting?

# Chapter

##  3

"It is ten o'clock in the morning and is a bright sunny day. Be sure to wear a sweater when you go outside, for it is a bit chilly. Now, I believe it is time to... get your lazy butt out of bed!"

I groaned as I rolled over onto my side. I opened my eyes. Rachel stood over me. "Oh, no," I said, "it wasn't a dream?"

"Sorry, sweet cheeks," said Rachel, "but it all happened."

Ten o'clock, I thought. My class! I bolted out of bed and then realized that I had no classes today. I stood up and went to the bathroom. "I have to get to work and I don't need your assistance in the shower."

"I'm not into that kinky stuff." Rachel glanced down at my bare legs. "However, you might want to shave those hairy things before your date tonight."

I slapped my forehead. That's right! I had a date and, no, I hadn't shaved for several weeks. It was too much work and I preferred jeans anyway. I grabbed a towel and slammed the door in Rachel's face. "Good-bye," I said to her.

The Candle Shoppe was a nice little store. Despite its name, it had more than just candles. There were accessories, books, scent warmers, incense, and even handmade scarves. The soft lighting in the place provided a calm atmosphere for shopping. I loved it. It was much better than the harsh light of florescent bulbs. Candles littered the place with their flames. A great way to showcase the product.

The manager's name was Harvey Stilton. I just called him Mr. Stilton. He gave me a nametag, I filled out some paperwork, and he explained my duties. Jackie was already there helping customers. My job was managing the cash register, assisting customers, and restocking shelves.

My first day at work remained uneventful, for the most part. At least, it did, until Rachel showed up. I had an hour to go before my shift ended and she popped in.

"Hey," she said as she appeared next to me. Her voice startled me, causing me to send the tea lights in my hands flying across the store. I quickly retrieved them.

"What are you doing here?" I hissed at her.

"I just wanted to know how your first day at work is going," replied Rachel.

"I'm trying to work," I cut myself off as a couple people walked by. They looked at me strangely. My smile did little to assure them that I wasn't crazy. "You can't just show up when it pleases you. Now go away!"

"All right, fine," said Rachel. "I just thought you'd like to know that that guy over there is trying to make off with a bunch of merchandise." She disappeared.

I glanced over at the man she had pointed out. Sure enough, he stuffed his pockets with candles and incense. Figures. My first day and I get a shop lifter. I walked over to the man.

"Hey," I said. "You going to pay for that?"

He shoved me out of the way and bolted for the door. I tried going after him, but was too slow and ended up tripping over my own feet. Rachel appeared at the entrance and kicked him in the gut. The guy doubled over, allowing me to grab him.

"What's going on here?" demanded Mr. Stilton as he walked out of his office.

"Shoplifter," I said.

"Really?" Mr. Stilton emptied the man's pockets. "Go on get out of here," he said to the man. "If you ever come back here I'll call the cops."

The guy ran out the door. No doubt he was still wondering what hit him.

"You're welcome," said Rachel as she disappeared again. I was beginning to regret coming to Vermont.

Later that evening, I prepared for my date. Greg picked me up. I borrowed Jackie's floral, knee-length skirt and paired it with my new blouse and jacket she had bought me. I must admit, it looked good. The Mexican place was an outdoor restaurant. Despite the chill, we managed to stay fairly warm, thanks to the heating lamps they had.

"So," said Greg, "back story."

"You go first," I said.

"As I've said, I'm thirty and decided to finally go to college. I moved here a year ago and am studying criminology."

"Which explains why you are taking a video editing class."

"That is an elective I chose to take to fill some credits. And it's an easy A."

"Ah," I said. "I am hoping to be an independent filmmaker. Hence, why I am in Mr. Vincent's video editing class."

"So, the great Mellow Summers wishes to be an Oscar nominee."

"I was thinking more of an Oscar winner," I said.

The waiter brought our food. I dug into mine immediately after realizing how hungry I really was.

"I like a girl with a healthy appetite," said Greg. He watched me stuff a burrito in my mouth. Suddenly, I blushed. So much for first impressions.

"Can you tell me anymore about this Rachel?" I asked.

"Why do you want to know? You aren't saying your place is haunted are you?"

"There's just been little things," I said, hoping to brush aside his comments. Now that Rachel seemed to be making a habit of showing up wherever I was, I wanted to know more about her.

"There isn't much to tell," said Greg. "She kept to herself, mostly. However, she did like to frequent the bars. Especially this one place on the corner of Rhinestone and Main. It's called Zappy's."

"Zappy's?"

"Yeah. Strange name I know, but very popular among the college crowd. There were many times she came home drunk and I'd have to help her unlock her door. But all that started to change when she met Tom. She stopped going to parties and stayed with him all the time.

"Her death really is a mystery. No one knows who would want to kill her. The cops focused on Tom at first, but with a lack of evidence, they had to let him go."

"Do you think he did it?" I asked.

"No," replied Greg. "He was a nice guy. Full ride scholarship and he worked at the local coffee shop. When he received the news of Rachel's death, it devastated him. When everything quieted down, he left. Too many people thought he did it and the damage had been done. Once labeled a suspect, it stays with you."

"I suppose it does. So, you never knew Rachel?"

"Not really well. Like I said, I saw her a few times and helped her into her apartment when she came home wasted, but we were more acquaintances. She seemed like a really nice girl, and, like I said, she did stop her drunken homecomings after meeting Tom. After that they were inseparable.

"For the most part Rachel kept to herself. Though there was this one night she came home in a panic."

"Panic?" I hoped the intrigue in my voice went unnoticed.

"It seemed that way. I remember her running to her apartment door. Her hair was frazzled and her clothes were disheveled. Her hands shook, too. I remember that because she had difficulty getting the key into the lock. I helped her open her door and asked if there was anything I could do. She said 'no' and so I left her alone."

"What happened after that?"

"Before I closed the door to my apartment, I overheard her try to call Tom. Apparently, she had gotten his voicemail because she left a hurried message. Then she ran out of her apartment, got in her car, and left."

"What was the message?"

"The bit I heard was something about her catching something on camera. Something horrible, and she needed Tom's help. She did mention that she was headed to the computer lab on campus. That was the last time I saw her. The next morning, I learned that she had been killed."

"Her camera?"

"Yeah," said Greg. "She was taking the video editing class as an elective as well. Apparently, making short movies was a hobby of hers. Anyway, her camera was never found and there was no evidence to indicate who killed her. Of course, the cops were so focused on Tom, that I don't think they even looked at anybody else. Though there was a Detective Shorts--"

"Shorts?" I didn't mean to interrupt, but the name sounded funny.

"Yeah, it is a funny name, but don't tell him that. You don't want to be on his bad side. He didn't think Tom did it. In fact, he seemed to think that someone who worked at the college did, but again, there was no proof."

"Too bad."

"Why all the questions? Here we are on a date and all I've done is talk about a dead girl."

I squirmed uneasily in my chair. Should I tell him that I spoke with Rachel's spirit? It sounded so crazy that even I wasn't sure I believed it. "Just a few strange things have happened in my apartment that's all."

Greg laughed. "You're not going to tell me that you think your place is haunted!"

"I don't know." I wanted to end the conversation. This was only a first date and to tell Greg I was seeing a ghost wasn't in the plan. "It's getting late," I said.

Greg agreed and asked for the check, which he paid. That impressed me. Afterward, he walked me home and dropped me off at my apartment. We didn't kiss or anything. In fact, we just said good-bye.

After I let myself in, I slumped down on the couch. I had a real mystery on my hands. You know, that thing you mostly read about in novels, or watch on TV. I felt like Jessica Fletcher from Murder She Wrote. I just couldn't stop thinking about it. Why was Rachel afraid? What was she running from? And who killed her? Then it occurred to me that I had all the answers at my fingertips.

"Rachel," I whispered.

"How was the date?" She appeared on the couch beside me.

"It was great," I replied.

"Did you kiss?"

"Uh, no."

She let out an exasperated sigh. "Going to play hard to get. I don't get you."

I shook my head. The conversation was not going where I wanted it to. "Rachel," I said, "who killed you? I mean, what happened that night you died?"

I thought she might be upset at my abruptness, but instead she seemed pleased that someone asked. "I don't know," she said.

"You don't know?"

"I can't remember. People think that when you die you suddenly know everything. But that didn't happen to me. I remember bits and pieces, but nothing substantial. Mostly, I remember being scared and running for my life and then I ended up here. People went right past me. They couldn't see me, or hear me."

"Why is it I can see you?" I really wanted to know why I suddenly became Jessica Love-Hewitt from Ghost Whisperer.

"I learned much later that I can decide who sees me and who doesn't. But I also learned that most people pretend not to see ghosts. Either that, or they are so wrapped up in their own life, that they ignore everything that doesn't immediately affect them.

"Some of the people who lived here before you saw me, but they either passed it off as being crazy, or they just ran away scared. I wasn't trying to scare anyone. I just wanted to be heard. I also want to know what happened to me. But I need someone living to help."

"But you can go anywhere you want and spy on people," I said.

"But I can't talk to them. I'm not sure why I'm able to talk to you. It could be because you haven't run off scared yet. Will you help me?"

I sighed. I wanted to. And I was curious. The fact that her murder has remained unsolved meant that that the real killer was still at large. I shuddered at the thought. "I don't know."

"Please," she begged. "I need to know what happened."

I sat silent for a while. I did want to know what happened to her, but I also didn't want to do anything to ruin my new start in life. In the end, I relented. "Yes, I'll help. But you have to promise to quit showing up unannounced."

"Yay!" squealed Rachel, jumping up and down.

A part of me felt that I would regret this.

# Chapter

##  4

Three weeks passed, and before I knew it, I had buried myself under a mountain of homework. Who knew that college could be this difficult? I had spent each day since my date with Greg scurrying around on campus between classes, darting back and forth from work, and getting home late with just enough time to sleep.

Greg and I continued seeing each other. When not in class, we met for coffee or lunch. I only saw Jackie a few times, mostly when at work. Unfortunately, I hadn't had time to really investigate Rachel's death. Rachel's insistence at showing up whenever she liked didn't help. I had a feeling this was going to be a common occurrence with her.

The weather had turned a bit colder as we moved into October. I was glad that Jackie had bought me that jacket. It was quite warm.

I jogged across campus with my arms full of books. One more class to go today and I could go home. The late afternoon sun felt nice, but I hadn't time to enjoy it.

"Mel!" Once again Rachel appeared from nowhere.

Her sudden appearance caused me to drop my books. They scattered everywhere. "Rachel, not now," I said. I knelt down to gather my stuff.

"Have you found any leads?"

"I'm sorry, no. I've been busy."

"But you said you would help me," whined Rachel.

"Rachel, I will help, but you need to give me something to go on. Right now, I'm about as far as the cops got. Now, please, go away. I have a class to get to. We can talk later when I get home."

A couple of people walked by. I continued picking up my books and tried to ignore them. "Please, Rachel," I whispered. "If I stand here talking to you, people will think I'm crazy."

"Oh, please," replied Rachel, "you're way past that. You agreed to help a ghost find her murderer."

"Rachel, you can't keep popping in when you please. You may be dead, but I have responsibilities. Now go back to the apartment and I'll meet you there."

More people walked by. They stared at me with a questioning look.

"Practicing for a play," I said with a smile. Their glances told me that they didn't buy it.

"Fine. If I go back, do you promise to spend the night with me, helping me figure out who killed me?"

"Yes."

With that, Rachel left. I grabbed the rest of my things and hurried off to the other end of campus for my math class.

I arrived home to find Rachel waiting for me. She sat on the couch, watching television. She snapped her fingers and the TV turned off. Luckily, Jackie had to work, so I didn't need to worry about her walking in while I talked with a ghost.

"So, how was school?" asked Rachel.

I dropped my books and slumped in a chair, exhausted. I had a mountain of homework, but it would have to wait. Right now, it was time for Rachel and I to talk. I had promised her and guessed I ought to quit putting it off.

"The usual," I responded to her question.

"Well," Rachel jumped to her knees on the couch, "It's time to put all that aside and concentrate on catching my murderer."

I thought about her statement a moment. A part of me thought that it sounded selfish. I pushed it aside. I did promise to help her, and right now it was all about her.

"What do you remember about the night you died?" I asked.

Rachel rubbed her chin, concentrating. "Most of it is a blur. I remember I had a night class that night. It was the usual three hours of boredom, but I got through it. Afterward, I went to Zappy's to meet with some friends."

"Greg said you came home late in a panic. That you rummaged in your apartment for something, called Tom, and left," I said.

"That's right, I did! But I don't remember what had frightened me," said Rachel.

"What class was it?"

"Huh?"

"You're night class. What was it?"

"It was that video editing class with Professor Vincent," replied Rachel.

I massaged my temples. This was going nowhere. I had a ghost that only I could speak to who wanted help finding her murderer. The only problem was she couldn't remember the night she died.

"Are any of your friends still at the college?" I asked.

"Most of them graduated last May," replied Rachel. Suddenly, she jumped up in excitement. "Sara! Sara is still there. She failed a couple of her classes and was forced to stay an extra semester. She and I were pretty close--like sisters!"

"It's a start."

"We should go see her right now."

I stared at Rachel. "Now? It's nine o'clock at night. I'm tired and want some sleep."

"Which is why this is the perfect time to go. She'd be at Zappy's. It's a great place to hang out, for college kids."

"But it's in the middle of the week," I protested. I had no desire to go anywhere. I just wanted to go to bed.

"Like that's ever stopped any one from going to the bar. Come on, party pooper." Rachel hauled me out of my comfortable chair. Before I knew it my purse and keys were shoved into my hands and I was out the door.

I drove across town, following Rachel's directions to Zappy's. I cranked my radio up so no one would wonder why I seemed to be talking to myself. When I pulled into Zappy's parking lot, I had to drive around to find a parking space. The crowd was unbelievable! Ten minutes later, I finally found a space to park the car. The music pounded against the windows.

"Let's find her quick," I told Rachel.

Secretly, I hoped that she wouldn't be there. I had no idea what I would say without coming across as an amateur sleuth; or just plain nosy. I chuckled inside. That's exactly what I was.

A wave of tobacco smoke, booze, and pounding music wafted over me. I detested these places. Yet, I had to be here to help Rachel get her memory back.

"I.D.?"

I stared at the guy behind the counter for a moment until I realized that he was talking to me. I quickly handed him my driver's license. He looked it over, frowned, and handed it back. Apparently, he was hoping to bust some high school student trying to sneak in.

"Five bucks," said the guy.

"What?"

"Five dollar cover charge," he repeated.

Luckily, I had some cash with me. I forked over a five and went in. Instantly, I understood why this was a college hangout. The loud music and alcohol was an open invitation for it; but the place had a private section for those who wanted to be alone, a dance floor, and a bar with stools. I picked a menu off of a table and glanced at it in the multicolored lighting. They served food as well.

"Wheee!" shouted Rachel next to me. "This is fun isn't it?"

"Hey," I shouted at her, "we're here to work. Remember?"

"Sorry," said Rachel, "it's been awhile since I felt alive--so to speak."

"Do you see her?" I glanced around at the crowd. The place was packed. No way were we going to find Sara in here.

"No," said Rachel. "Stay here while I look around." She left me alone. I glanced around me. Without any ideas on what to do, I meandered to the bar.

"What'll it be?" asked the bartender.

I racked my brain trying to remember the list of drinks. "Southern Tropics." Instantly, my drink appeared and I had to hand over some money. I raised my drink to my lips.

"Hey!"

Rachel popped out of nowhere and grabbed my shoulder. I dropped my drink. Great. Instead of drinking my beverage, I was wearing it. I snatched some paper napkins and attempted, in vain, to wipe the mess off my jacket.

"I found her," said Rachel.

"Where is she?"

"Up there on the second floor," replied Rachel.

"Hey, baby."

I turned around and found a man ogling me. The man's breath stank of too much liquor. I ignored him.

"Hey," he persisted, "I said 'hi'!"

"Kick him in the nuts," said Rachel.

I shook my head. I didn't want trouble and having two people talk to me at the same time was very confusing. "Go away, please," I said to the guy next to me.

He grabbed my shoulder and whirled me around to face him. "I don't like being ignored," he spat.

I struggled to break free, but his grasp was too strong. Before I knew it, Rachel had appeared by his side. She yanked his stool out from under him, causing the man to bang his head on the counter.

"Hey, bitch," said the man as he stood up.

Rachel snatched a beer bottle off the counter. The man stared in horror as it floated towards him, clonking him on his skull. He ran off, knocking tables and chairs over. I stared aghast at what just happened. A few people eyed me peculiarly. I waved at them. Instantly, Rachel grabbed my arm, pulling me from the bar.

"You need to be more forceful," she scolded me.

"Look what you did," I said in shock.

"Oh, he'll be alright," she said passing off my concerns as little importance. "When a guy won't leave you alone, you don't politely ask them to leave. You force them to go away."

"My mother always said that girls should be sugar and spice and everything nice. You know, like that poem."

Rachel looked at me as though I had just told her I had seen Bigfoot. "You're kidding, right?" she said. "In this place, sometimes you have to be sugar and spice and not so nice. Come on."

We reached the top of the steps. The music wasn't quite so loud up here. I glanced around at all the people in the booths. Some were couples, but most were groups of friends out for a good time.

"There she is," Rachel said, pointing to a girl in her early twenties. She had shoulder length, blonde hair with red highlights. Thankfully, she seemed to be alone. I weaved my way through the tables and booths towards Sara.

"Hi," I greeted her. "My name's Mel."

She put her drink down. "Sara," she said, "Nice to meet you. First time here?"

"Yeah." I helped myself to a seat. "I just moved here for school."

"Welcome to Vermont," Sara said. "You'll be coming here often, I'm sure. Everyone does."

"You here alone?" I asked.

"Am now. I came with some people but they wanted to go to an after party. I figured I'd finish my drink and go home. You live on campus?"

I couldn't believe my luck. Sara had just given me the perfect opening. "I moved into the Alamont Apartments, not far from campus. Apartment 214."

"Rachel's place," said Sara. She set her drink on the table. "Why'd you move there?"

"I'm sorry," I said, "Cheap rent and furnished. I didn't know about Rachel until after I signed the lease."

"Don't worry about it," apologized Sara, "Of course, you didn't know. It was a place to rent. And who wouldn't at the price they were offering?"

"Did you know Rachel well?"

"We were good friends," said Sara. "Rachel was always fun to be around. This was our favorite place to hang out."

I tried to think of a way to ease into questioning about the night Rachel died. I couldn't, so I just jumped into it. "I hear the cops never found who killed her."

"No. Those bastards. They didn't even try."

Clearly, Sara thought that the entire case had been mishandled. That boded well for me.

"They focused on Tom, but that guy couldn't hurt a fly. He was one of those rare ones that is a genuine gentleman, and isn't gay."

I nodded my head in understanding at that last statement.

"Tom loved Rachel. And she loved him. I mean, they were truly in love. They had just gotten engaged two days before. No one knew, but me. No, Tom wasn't the type. Naturally, there was no evidence for a conviction and the cops let the case drop because they were too lazy to reconsider their list of suspects, or suspect.

"Poor Tom," Sara continued, "He was devastated by Rachel's death. The constant bombardment by the cops ruined his life here. Afterward, everyone thought he had done it. He packed up and left when the investigation ended. Didn't even wait for the semester to end."

"And no one's heard from him since?" I asked.

"Nope. He left no forwarding address. Said he didn't want anything to do with this place. Can't blame him. His life here ended when Rachel died."

"Poor guy," I said. "But who would have killed her?"

"Don't know. Rachel was with me, here, that night. We had a night class together and usually came here for a little bit afterwards. I remember her leaving at around midnight. She went to her car and that was the last I saw her. An hour later, I got a call from Tom. He said she had left him a cryptic voice message. Something about witnessing a terrible act and needing his help to email a video. She wasn't the most technologically advanced person. Anyway, he said she wanted to meet him in the computer lab at the college. He got the message late, and when he arrived, she wasn't there."

"Why wouldn't she be there?"

"You know, you're asking a lot of questions. You aren't one of those crime junkies that get their kicks prying into unsolved murders, are you?"

"No, I just have a natural curiosity."

"Yeah, sure you do." Sara stood up. "Look, I don't know you and I don't feel right talking about Rachel's death to a stranger. Leave me alone."

"You can't let her leave," said Rachel. "Call her a 'fat chick'. Quick!"

"Fat Chick!" I yelled it out loud and everyone turned in my direction.

Sara paused, glaring at me questioningly. Then, she went down the stairs and my chance of getting more information was over.

I rested my face in my hands in exasperation. "That went well," I said. "You want to tell me why I just called a complete stranger a 'fat chick'?"

Rachel sat across from me with a disappointed look on her face. "That was a saying between the two of us. It was something only she and I used. She had to know it came from me. But she's right. We did come here that night. We were celebrating my recent engagement. I can't believe that I'd forgotten that. Poor Tom! The police thought it was him?"

"So he didn't kill you?" I asked.

"Tom? No!" Rachel stared at me as though I had just eaten a rock off the ground. "Tom was the first man to treat me like a lady. He never raised his voice at me, or threaten me. Even when I lost my temper at him, he would just calmly reassure me that everything would be alright. He always did little things for me. You know, the chores that no one wants to do. He did them so that I wouldn't have to get my hands dirty. No, Mel, Tom didn't kill me. Of that I'm certain. I miss him."

Rachel started to cry. I felt sorry for her. She had died soon after getting engaged to a great guy. On top of that, the cops failed to find her killer and almost ruined her fiancé's life. My heart ached for her sadness. Is this what it was like to die? To linger on, alone, while those you loved carried on with their lives?

"Rachel," I soothed, "I'm sorry. We'll find the truth. We will."

Someone cleared their throat next to me. The waitress had walked up and I never noticed. I looked at her sheepishly, wondering how long she had been there listening to me basically talk to myself. "A beer please," I said.

The waitress eyed the empty glasses that littered the table. Naturally, she thought that they were all mine.

"You don't think I drank all of these," I blurted out, "These aren't mine!"

"Uh-huh," said the waitress with her hands on her hips. "Honey, anyone who talks to themselves is either drunk, or crazy. Considering there are all these empty glasses, I figure it's the former. I think it's time you went home."

I scowled at Rachel. She laughed out loud, but, unsurprisingly, only I heard her. I stood up and sauntered toward the stairs.

"Make sure someone drives you home," said the waitress after me.

I made it to the main floor without too much incident. Once again, I weaved my way through throngs of people who busied themselves with having a good time. I had almost made it to the exit when a big, burly man stood in my way. Leather and tattoos covered his dark skin. I tried to go around him. It was no use. He kept blocking me.

"Excuse me," I said.

"You one fine honey," growled the man.

Oh no, I thought. Here we go again.

"How about you and me leaving this place?"

"Some other time," I said. I didn't like what he had in mind.

The man inched closer. I held my breath to keep from passing out from his stench. I backed away, but a table blocked my progress.

"Knee him in the stomach and bash his face in," instructed Rachel.

"What?" I replied.

The man bent down to kiss me. This time, I did as Rachel suggested. I rammed my knee hard into the man's soft middle. Then, I broke his nose with the heel of my hand. Afterward, I managed to wrench his arm behind his back and bashed his face into the table. The man fell to the floor in agony.

His friends stared at me in shock. I glanced around at all of them not believing what I had just done.

"Anyone else want some?" I said, sounding braver than I felt.

No one moved.

"Time to leave," said Rachel.

Quickly, I dashed out the exit into the chilly night air. I inhaled deeply to clear out my lungs before I got in my car and drove home.

"I didn't know you had that in you," squealed Rachel with laughter. "Dang, girl, you broke his nose on top of that! You are a tough cookie."

The adrenaline of knocking that guy down eventually wore off. I laughed with Rachel. Even I had difficulty believing that I had done that.

"That is what I'm talking about," Rachel continued. "Sometimes you have to show a guy that no means no. And if that means dealing out a few bruises, then so be it. You may learn a thing or two from me yet."

We laughed and giggled the rest of the way home. I finally walked through the door to the apartment at around two in the morning. My eyes barely stayed open long enough for me to make it to my room and crawl into bed.

# Chapter

##  5

It seemed as though I had just fallen asleep when I woke up. Daylight peeked through the curtains in my room. Seven in the morning. I rolled over and tried to go back to sleep. Sleep was to be denied to me though.

Jackie burst through the door to my room. "Where were you?" she demanded. "You weren't here when I got home. And then you didn't come crawling in until two in the morning!"

I just glowered at her. "What are you, my mother?"

"I was worried about you. It's not like you to go off like that."

"I just needed to go out for a bit," I said. My explanation did little to assuage Jackie. I didn't know my going to the bar with Rachel would alarm her.

"Right," said Jackie, "Well, get up. I'll make breakfast. We can go to work together."

I crawled out of bed, wishing I could go back to sleep. Drowsily, I went to the bathroom.

"Hey!" Once again Rachel popped in expecting me to drop everything as though I had nothing better to do.

"Rachel," I yawned, "if you don't mind, I'd like to shower in peace."

"I realize that," said Rachel, "but I might have remembered something."

I ran my fingers through my hair, not paying any attention to what she said. "That's great."

I stifled another yawn. I glanced toward the end of the hallway. Jackie stood there gaping at me.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

Instead of answering, I slammed the door to the bathroom.

"We'll talk later," Rachel shouted through the door.

Work was unusually busy when Jackie and I arrived. I went to the cashier station and placed my stuff behind the counter. The line of people making purchases slowly grew smaller. I glanced around as I rung up people's things. Jackie was involved with a difficult lady who insisted that the sage incense did not smell like sage.

Only one other person wandered the floor. Charlie. The man was useless. He loved the paycheck, but did everything he could to keep from working. True to his past, Charlie disappeared as more people walked through the door.

I don't know why Mr. Stilton hired him. Maybe it was because the two were a lot alike. Mr. Stilton spent most of his time in his office with the door closed. I sighed. It looked like Jackie and I would be running the place again.

"$13.65," I said to the man in front of me. He paid his bill quickly and walked out the door without so much as a smile. People are so rude sometimes. "Next," I called.

Before I could even greet the elderly lady in front of me, Jackie grabbed my arm and pulled me to the floor behind the counter. "Jackie..." I began.

She shushed me. "Don't move," she whispered. "There's this guy that keeps coming in here asking for you. I think he might be a stalker. Look."

She pointed the man out to whom she referred. I peeked around the corner of the counter. I'm sure that the people waiting to pay for their stuff thought we were nuts. I clapped my hand over my mouth, stifling a laugh when I noticed who it was.

"That's Greg," I told Jackie. "The guy I have been dating."

"That's him?" She peered at him, taking in all of his features. "He's cute. I approve." Jackie jumped to her feet, "Greg," she yelled across the store, "your girlfriend's over here."

Humiliated, I gradually rose to my feet. "Greg," I said, trying to sound like everything was normal. I didn't want to know what he was thinking.

"You always hide behind the counter?" he asked.

"Hide?" I stammered. "I wasn't hiding, I was... uh... looking for something."

Greg gave me one of those "I don't believe you" looks. He must think I'm crazy. "There is a performance at the theater tonight. I have tickets and wanted to know if you were up for it."

"Oh? What's playing?"

"Hamlet."

I almost dropped my jaw. A guy who was into Shakespeare? I couldn't believe it. Either that, or he somehow found out that I loved Shakespeare. "I'd love to go."

"Perfect," said Greg. "I'll pick you up when you get off work."

Jackie and I watched him leave. She smiled broadly, shaking my shoulder in excitement that I finally got a boyfriend. Then, I remembered the giant line of people at the counter staring at me. My face flushed red from embarrassment. Great, now the world knows about my love life.

"He's hot."

I turned toward the voice. It belonged to the old lady that was next in line.

"If I were you," she began, "I would hold onto him tightly. In fact, if I were sixty years younger I'd squeeze his butt cheeks tight."

I gawked at her in disbelief. Jackie stood next to me, trying not to burst out laughing. So was everyone else in line. I could just imagine what my face looked like. I rung up her items quickly. "Fourteen dollars even."

She handed me exact change and left. At the door, the woman turned and waved at me with a huge grin, and left.

"So are you going to squeeze his butt cheeks?" asked Rachel, standing by the shelves behind me.

Without thinking, I grabbed a small candle and chucked it at her. Of course, it did no good. It passed right through her, and to everyone else, it looked as though I had thrown it at thin air.

I smiled sheepishly at those watching me. "Uh, I saw a bug," I said in an effort to explain my actions.

They just grinned in that way people do when they think you're off your rocker, but they don't want to say anything.

Someone placed more things on the counter. They landed with a soft thump. Automatically, I typed in their prices. Black votive candles, incense, and aromatherapy oils. "$25.69," I said.

That's when I saw who it was that was in front of me: Professor Vincent. Though he wasn't the first guy to buy things like this, I thought it odd that he would.

"Mellow, right?" he said.

"It's Mel," I replied.

The man handed me thirty dollars and I gave him his change.

"I would never peg you as someone who was into all this aromatherapy stuff," I said. I don't know why I did. I guess my natural curiosity took over.

"I suffer from migraines," he said, "and this stuff seems to help."

I gave him my clerk smile in response. In the back of my mind, his explanation sounded like a lie. But, why would he lie? Even if he was, what business was it of mine anyway?

"You're in my video editing class," said Professor Vincent.

I thought it odd that he'd ask such a question. He knew I was in his class. I sat right in front of him. "Yes," I replied.

"I thought so," he said, "I liked that last assignment you handed in. You have an artistic eye for things. I think you ought to consider signing up for my advanced filmmaking class next semester."

His statement sounded reasonable, but I started to feel uncomfortable around him. Especially since his eyes darted down my blouse.

"I'll think about it," I replied.

"Do that." Professor Vincent left. He gave me a lustful look, but did a good job at concealing it.

"Creepy bastard," said Jackie. She had observed the entire proceeding. "I'd drop his class."

"Except, I need the credits," I said.

"I guess the world is full of creeps like him," she said.

"I'll make certain to sit in the back of the class from now on," I told her.

"Do that."

Luckily, the rest of the day at work passed without incident. Things had quieted down considerably. Seven pm rolled around and Jackie and I had the honor of locking up. One of the things I liked about the Candle Shoppe was that is closed early.

Greg arrived right on time with flowers. Jackie beamed and nudged me when she saw him. "Flowers! How nice," she said. "Have fun." She greeted Greg and ran off.

Greg handed me the flowers and I accepted them graciously. He took me to an Italian restaurant for dinner. As I ate the delicious food, I knew it headed straight to my thighs. All that creamy, buttery pasta was too good to resist. We chit chatted at dinner, but I was so hungry, that I stuffed my face more than talk. Greg chuckled. At least my tendency to eat didn't scare him away.

The play started at nine and we had seats in the front. It gave us a perfect view of the stage. The moment the curtain went up, the actors and story enthralled me. Like I said, I love Shakespeare. Hamlet had always been one of my favorites. I don't know why. But who wouldn't like a story about a guy who seeks revenge for his father's death, and pretends to go crazy while he's at it? Though you could argue that Hamlet really was nuts. I understood how he felt. Ever since I met Rachel, I felt a little nutty myself. Hopefully, no one tried to put me in a padded cell.

The play ended at midnight and a giant yawn gave away my tiredness. It had been a long day and I looked forward to actually getting a good night's sleep. "Thanks for a wonderful night," I said to Greg.

He opened the door to his car for me. What a gentleman. I'll admit, that meant bonus points in my book. He drove me home. We didn't say much during the car ride. My eyelids kept drooping and he must have noticed. Afterward, he walked around the car to open my door for me. More bonus points. Some girls didn't like it when guys opened doors for them, but I didn't mind it once in a while.

"You make sure to go to bed," he said, dropping me off at my door.

"Don't worry," I said.

Then, he did it. Kissed me goodnight. It was one of those foot popping kisses that gave me butterflies. The kiss ended too quickly for me. I had to hide my girlish giggles as butterflies swirled in my stomach.

"Night," I said as I closed the door.

I dumped my things on a nearby chair.

"How was your date?" asked Jackie. She sat cross legged on the couch with a book in her hands. The eagerness in her voice tipped me off that she had been spying. That, and the fact that the book in her hands was upside down.

"You were watching through the peephole, weren't you?" I said.

"No... Me?" I didn't buy the forced innocence of her voice.

"I've never known anyone who could read upside down," I said.

Jackie slammed the book shut and hopped off the couch. "OK, so maybe I was being a little nosy."

"You're worse than my mother."

"Am not. So you kissed. Good news. You like him?"

"Of course I like him," I said. "He's a bit of a gentleman. He doesn't like to party, or smoke. And that cake he gave us was delicious."

"So he can cook. If he does his own laundry, and starches his clothes, I'd say he's a keeper."

"I'm sure he's house trained," I said. "Now, I have an early class tomorrow, so if you don't mind, I'm going to bed."

# Chapter

##  6

I strolled toward the building where my first class of the day was. October hit and with it came chilly weather. I knew I'd have to start searching for my winter coat soon, but kept putting it off. Despite being a warm weather type of gal, I relished in the cold breeze. Somehow, it made you feel alive.

I pulled the heavy door to the building open and enjoyed the warm air that engulfed me. For once, I felt good about going to class. No Rachel today, and I actually got some sleep.

I started to walk through the doorway to my video editing class when a hand seized my arm and yanked me away. I found myself being shoved and pushed down the hall toward the water fountains. It was Sara. She shoved me against the wall and motioned for me to be quiet.

"What the--"

"SHH!" Sara looked around making certain no one was watching. She relaxed and let me go. "I'm sorry," she said. "It's just I don't want anyone to know that I talked to you."

"I don't understand," I said. I really didn't want to be late for my class.

"When you asked me about Rachel the other night, I was afraid that I was being set up."

"Set up?"

"Look, when the cops focused on Tom as Rachel's killer, I knew they were going in the wrong direction," said Sara. "Tom wasn't the type. There was this one cop who was intent on nailing him. He didn't want to hear about anything else. His name was Detective Reiss. The thing is, the guy made me nervous. There was just something about him. You know how it is when you get a bad vibe about someone? That's what I got from that Reiss character."

"Why are you telling me this now?" I asked.

"I thought maybe you were sent by Reiss to spy on me. He did that for a while after the investigation closed. I freaked. But when you called me a 'fat chick', I knew you couldn't be from him. Where did you hear that term?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," I said.

"Try me," Sara pushed.

I exhaled deeply. "Do you believe in ghosts?"

"Ghosts?"

"I told you, you wouldn't believe me," I said.

"You see ghosts?"

"Only one," I said. I knew she'd think I was definitely crazy for telling her this, but she asked. She made it evident that she wasn't going to let it go. "I've seen Rachel."

Sara's lips pursed. "I don't know if you're crazy, or lying, but I do know that there isn't any way you could have known that phrase."

"Rachel told it to me," I said.

"Fat chick. We used to say that to each other when we went out. It was our code for drop dead gorgeous. Seems stupid I know."

"Not at all," I said. "Sara, do you have any idea why Rachel was so scared that night? Or why she went to the computer lab so late?"

"I've no idea what could have scared her," replied Sara. "All I know is she called me saying something about taping something on her camera. Something horrible. She wouldn't give any details. She wanted me and Tom to meet her at the computer lab, which was open 24/7."

"She obviously needed a computer for something," I said more to myself than to Sara. "Why would she need a computer here on campus? Didn't she have her own?"

"Her computer was at a repair shop. It stopped working one day and she wasn't going to get it back for another week. Tom didn't own one and I didn't have internet at my place."

"But if she filmed some kind of crime, why wouldn't she go to the cops?"

"Maybe she felt she couldn't trust them. I know I didn't trust that Detective Reiss," said Sara. "Why do you want to know?"

"I made a promise to a friend," I said, "and I find it odd that it was closed so quickly and no one's given it much thought since. This happened on campus. That means the murderer could still be here." I immediately regretted saying that last bit. Sara's face filled with shock. She covered it up well.

"You're probably right," she said, "Listen, I came to the computer lab soon after getting her call. When I got here, it was empty, except for one person."

"Who?"

Sara glanced over and did a double take. Greg stood in the hallway watching us. "Him," she said, pointing to him. "Just find who did this. And be careful of Professor Vincent."

Sara left, leaving Greg and I alone in the empty hallway. "Greg," I said. He walked off. "Greg!" I yelled.

"What?" he said.

"You didn't tell me everything," I accused. "You told me that you last saw Rachel at her apartment, but the truth is you went to the computer lab. Why didn't you tell me?"

"What does it matter?"

"Why, Greg? If you can't be honest with me about that, how can I believe if anything you tell me is the truth?"

"Honesty," said Greg, "You want honesty? Why don't you tell me why you really want to know?"

"I don't like injustice," I said. It sounded stupid, even to my ears.

"There's more to it than that." Greg sauntered away.

"Why were you at the computer lab?" I demanded. "And why didn't you tell me?"

"I followed her, okay? Rachel was so frightened that night, that I was afraid for her. Afraid of what she might do. So I followed her. By the time I reached the computer lab, she had left. I noticed her leaving through the exit with someone, but before I could catch up with her, Sara arrived. When I did make it outside, she, and whoever she was with, had gone.

"I told the cops that. They just assumed the guy was Tom. Why do you keep pushing?"

"Because I've talked to Rachel. She asked my help in finding her killer and I agreed."

"Mel, just don't get involved. They didn't care then and they don't care now. You're just going to stir up a bunch of trouble and open old wounds."

"And maybe solve a murder while I'm at it." I left Greg standing there and went to my class. I knew I was late, but didn't care. I just walked in and took the closest available seat, ignoring the stares I got from those around me.

I barely paid attention in class. The teacher droned on and on about film technique and use of colors. My mind, however, lay elsewhere. All I thought about was what Sara told me, and later, Greg. I understood why he didn't tell me that last bit about following Rachel. It just hurt that he skewed the truth a bit. Didn't he trust me? Did I trust him?

The movement of people told me that class had ended. I grabbed my book bag and stood up to leave.

"Miss Summers," said Professor Vincent.

I approached the desk.

"I noticed you were late," he said, "I do not appreciate tardiness."

"Sorry, professor," I said, "It won't happen again."

"I'm sure it won't." Professor Vincent placed his smooth hand on my shoulder. I thought his eyes flickered toward my bosom. I suddenly felt very uncomfortable. "Be on time next time." His grin possessed a lustfulness.

"I have to go," I said and left.

The rest of my classes went quickly. I headed straight home. I didn't even remember the drive back to the apartment. I burst through the door actually hoping to see Rachel. She wasn't there.

"Rachel!" I yelled. "Rachel!"

"What," said Rachel from behind me.

"Can't you remember anything that happened to you that night? I feel like I'm going in circles."

"I'm sorry," said Rachel. "It's all fuzzy."

"Or, you don't want to remember." I regretted that statement the moment it exited my mouth.

"Don't want to? Do you think I like being here not knowing why or how I died?" Rachel glared at me. "Do you think this is fun for me?

"I was always told that when a person died they met God, or at least saw their loved ones again, but instead of any of that, I found myself back here. At first I didn't know I was dead, but I figured it out quickly when everyone I tried to talk to couldn't see, or hear, me. Those that did, ran away screaming.

"All I asked from you is a little help. And all you have done is complain."

"I am trying to help you, but everyone I talk to thinks I'm either crazy or nosy. And now my boyfriend has basically left me because I had to tell him why I am so interested in finding out what happened to you; and why I was upset that he didn't mention following you to the college."

"He what?" said Rachel.

"He followed you and saw you leaving with someone, but he doesn't know who. But it doesn't matter. He'll probably never speak to me again."

"Is that so?" Rachel vanished.

"Mel?" Jackie appeared in the doorway. She had a concerned look on her face. "What's going on?"

"Nothing," I said.

"Nothing?" Jackie's stance told me she didn't believe me. "Nothing. Ever since we moved here, you have acted strangely. Constantly late for things. Going out and staying out until all hours in the morning. Getting in a bar fight. And talking to yourself. Something is going on and I want to know what it is."

I stood awkwardly. I didn't want Jackie to think I had lost my mind, yet, I wanted her to know the truth. "You want the truth?"

"Mel, you can tell me anything."

"When we moved here, I met a ghost. But not any ghost. It's the spirit of the girl who lived here before us."

Jackie stared at me in disbelief. She didn't believe me. "A ghost. Mel, if you don't--"

A loud crash echoed across the hall. Jackie and I both ran to the hallway. More thumps and bangs sounded. We eyed each other, wondering what was happening. Greg's door opened. Out came Rachel, dragging Greg into our apartment. She stopped in our entrance. "Does this belong to you?"

I bursted out laughing. Jackie glanced from me to Rachel. Even Greg seemed uneasy. They saw Rachel too. Relief swept over me as now they had to believe me.

"I guess you were telling the truth about seeing a ghost," said Greg. Rachel dumped him on the floor.

"Rachel, why--"

"I can't have them putting you in a padded cell when I still need your help," Rachel said interrupting me.

"You mean," said Jackie, "that you weren't kidding?"

"No, she wasn't," said Rachel. "Now, I don't want to sit here answering questions. Mel agreed to help me find my murderer."

"I didn't... Rachel," said Greg.

"Relax," said Rachel. "I know it wasn't you."

"Do you know what could have been on that camera, or what you did with it?" I asked.

"No," said Rachel, exasperated.

"It's too bad we can't get a look at the police report," said Jackie.

Greg pulled out his cell phone. "I can help with that," he said. "I have a cousin who works at the local police department. He's a file clerk, but great at hacking." Greg dialed a number and put his phone on speaker.

"Hello," came a male voice on the line.

"Jack," said Greg, "I need a favor."

"No," said Jack. "No more favors. I can't. I could lose my job."

"Jack," Greg said, "you are indebted to me for life."

"Will you stop that?" The line went dead a moment. "Am I on speaker?"

"Yes," replied Greg, "and I still need that favor. Or do I need to tell your mother why you missed church last Sunday?"

"You wouldn't," came Jack's panicked voice.

"That favor?"

"Oh, all right," said Jack, "What do you need?"

"I need you to look up the file on that college girl who was murdered last year," said Greg.

A bunch of coughing filled the line. Jack must have choked when he heard Greg's request. "That case is closed."

"Jack, I have your mother on speed dial," threatened Greg.

"Okay. Okay. Give me a moment." A series of taps echoed through the line as Jack typed on the keyboard. "You realize I can get in a lot of trouble for this. Okay. Got it."

"What does it say? Is there an autopsy report?"

"She was found around dawn," said Jack. "She died from a blow to the head by a blunt object. The coroner figured it was made of wood because he pulled splinters from the wound. There were also signs of strangulation. DNA was pulled from under the fingernails, but was ruled inconclusive."

"Inconclusive?" I asked.

"Something about it being contaminated. The report is a bit mute on that," said Jack. "But there were rumors around the station that the detective in charge accidentally touched the body without gloves on, so the coroner was forced to rule out any DNA evidence. It's a rookie mistake, but does happen."

"What items were with the body when the cops arrived?" asked Greg.

"Uh, there was a purse with a wallet, keys, ChapStick, jewelry...that's about it."

"Was there a camera, or a phone, there?" I asked.

"No," replied Jack. "No phone or camera of any kind."

"That's odd," I said. "You said Rachel mentioned a camera."

"Anything else?" said Jack.

"No, thanks," replied Greg. He hung up.

Rachel sat beside us unusually quiet. I could only imagine what she thought about us talking about her as though she wasn't there. "I'm sorry..." I began.

"Don't be," said Rachel. "Who'd believe that you had a ghost among you? The thing is, I remember having a camera with me."

A thought struck me. "Does your phone have a camera?"

"Yeah," said Rachel.

"That's the camera," I said. "Don't you see? We were thinking that you had a camcorder, but in reality, the camera was your phone. Every cell phone has a built in camera these days and they have remarkable picture quality."

"And I always had my phone with me," said Rachel. "It should have been discovered with my body. Unless..."

"Unless what?" asked Jackie.

"Now I remember," said Rachel with excitement. "I hid my phone. That's right. I recorded something on my phone. I don't remember what, yet, but I went to the computer lab to make copies of what I filmed so that I could send it to different law enforcement agencies. But, I never got the chance. When I reached the lab, I heard footsteps coming after me, so I hid my phone. It's under the filing cabinet by the window."

"We should go look," I suggested.

"Problem," said Jackie. "It's been a year. What if the janitor found it and threw it away? The likelihood of it still being there is very slim."

"But what if it is there?" I said. "We have to try."

"Does anyone else find it odd?"

We all looked at Greg.

"Detective Reiss was the detective in charge of the case," said Greg. "He has been a detective for over twenty years. Why would he make such a rookie mistake of touching the body without gloves? He had to have known that such a move would make any DNA evidence found inadmissible in court."

"We all make mistakes sometimes," said Jackie.

"I don't think so," said Greg.

"You realize what you're implying," I said.

"Yes," replied Greg.

"I don't want to go down this road," I said. "Let's look for the phone first, and if it's there it may shed some light on all this, and perhaps it will jog Rachel's memory."

"You're right," said Greg. "Let's go."

"I'll go," I said, "with Rachel. If we all troop down there, it might look suspicious. Remember, the murderer is still out there."

# Chapter

##  7

I snatched my keys and purse and ran off to the college. Within fifteen minutes, I was hoofing it toward the computer lab building. I ran inside and headed straight for the lab. I breathed a sigh of relief to find it empty. I didn't want anyone to know why I was there, nor did I want to explain myself.

I spotted the filing cabinet in the far corner under the window. Wasting no time, I darted toward it, dropping to my knees. Sweat beaded on my back as I wiggled it from the wall a bit so that I could feel behind it.

"Anything?" said Rachel.

I continued to feel around under the cabinet. Frustration creased my brow as I found nothing. I was about to give up when I felt a lump under the carpet. Quickly, I pulled it up just enough to reveal a small flip phone. I snatched it.

"Lose something?"

I cursed silently at being caught. Slowly, I stood up, shoving the phone in my pocket, hoping that no one noticed. Professor Vincent stood behind me.

"Contact lens," I said, even though I didn't wear them.

He nodded in affirmation. "Hope you found it."

I looked around the empty room, wishing that there were more people. I felt very uncomfortable with Professor Vincent here, and a bit trapped. "I wouldn't worry about it," I said, making a move to leave.

Professor Vincent cut me off. "What's the hurry?"

"I really need to leave," I said.

Professor Vincent cornered me against the filing cabinet, placing both arms on each side of me. "There's no hurry," he said. He glanced down my shirt.

"Professor," I said, "I have to go. Now, please leave me alone."

"Please," he said. "You don't mean that. You know you are a very beautiful woman. Very hot blooded, I'm sure. I love that."

He leaned in for a kiss. I placed my hands on his chest and pushed him away with all my strength.

"A little spit fire," said Professor Vincent, charging for me again.

A scraping sound filled the room as a metal basket with papers in it flew across the cabinet. It struck Professor Vincent in the head. Stunned, he cradled his forehead a moment, staring at me in disbelief. I was too far away to have touched it, and he knew it. Rachel appeared and kicked the man in the knee caps. He fell to the ground, groaning. Hurriedly, I bolted from the room and left the building.

"What a creep," said Rachel. "I knew I never liked him. How did he get to be a professor?"

"I don't know," I said, wanting to get as far away as I could.

"You should report him," said Rachel.

"And who would believe me?" I said. "It's my word against his and he has tenure. And it's not like I can use you as a witness."

"Good point."

I went back to my apartment and locked the door once I got in. I waved the phone at Jackie and Greg. They both beamed. I found my laptop and turned it on. While I waited for it to boot up, I relayed to them what happened with Professor Vincent.

"That bastard," said Greg. "You should have let me come with you."

"Doesn't matter right now," I said. "Rachel took care of it. Unfortunately, I still have to take his class."

My computer had finally finished booting up. I took the memory card out of Rachel's phone and placed it in the card reader on my laptop. Instantly, a file opened. We watched in horror at the video that played on my monitor.

Professor Vincent and a woman appeared on the screen. The two struggled violently. Vincent slapped her across the face, sending her flying to the ground. He proceeded to violate her in a manor I do not wish to describe. Let's just say he ripped off her clothes and lay on top her. Afterward, he zipped up his pants. The woman lay unmoving. She was clearly very hurt.

Then, another guy appeared.

"That's Detective Reiss," said Greg.

Reiss and Vincent argued and shoved each other around a bit. Later, Vincent stormed off, but Reiss remained. The man pulled something out of his pocket. The way he held it told me it was a needle. He bent down and injected the woman with something. Then, he turned and noticed Rachel with the camera. After that, the screen went blank.

We all sat in stunned silence.

"Now I know who killed me," said Rachel.

"I think we're all in deep shit," I said, stating the obvious. Everyone agreed.

# Chapter

##  8

We sat around the computer, wondering what to do next. Now I knew why Rachel didn't run off to the police right away. Yet, I also knew that we couldn't keep this.

"We need to go to the cops," I said.

"Are you crazy?" yelled Greg. "That was a cop that killed that girl."

"I know," I said, "but we can't keep this video. We need to tell someone in authority. With this video that detective will go straight to jail."

"Didn't you mention a detective that thought the entire case was handled poorly?" asked Jackie.

"Yeah, Detective Shorts," replied Greg. "He was the only one on the force that was outspoken about the entire affair. He pursued the investigation on his own for a bit, but without any more evidence, he had to let it go."

"Well, I think we have the evidence he needs," I said. "We should give him a call."

Before we could do anything the screech of tires peeled the air. Greg glanced out the window. "That's my car!" he yelled and tore out of the apartment.

His heavy boots pounded the floor in the hallway as he ran to the parking lot. Jackie followed after him, leaving the door wide open.

I took the memory card out of my computer and held it in my palm. A noise out in the hall caught my attention.

"Jackie?" I poked my head out.

Without warning, a great weight crashed into me, knocking me to the floor. A hand reached for the memory card that had flown out of my hand. I lunged for it. A sharp smack across my cheek sent me flying again. I gasped as a steel toed shoe rammed into my stomach. The assailant snatched the memory card and dashed out the door. I heard his footsteps fade as he disappeared.

"Mel!" Jackie leaned over me. She and Greg helped me up.

I breathed deeply several times to get my breath back. "He took the card," I said.

Greg pulled out his phone and called the cops. He and Jackie helped me to the couch.

"What happened?" asked Rachel reappearing.

"Where were you?" demanded Greg.

"I went after the car," said Rachel, "but I lost the thief."

"You should have stayed here," scolded Greg, "Someone attacked Mel and took the memory card with our only evidence of your murder. Because of you--"

"Stop," I interrupted. "It's not her fault. Rachel, you might want to leave. The cops will be here soon."

Rachel nodded in understanding and vanished.

A knock sounded at the door. The cops had arrived rather quickly. "You called about a break-in," said a guy in uniform.

"Yes," said Greg.

"Excuse me," said a man in a suit. He was tall with a well-defined body shape. The man obviously worked out. "Detective Shorts," he said, introducing himself. "I'll handle this," he said to the guys in uniform. He walked over to me and inspected the bruise forming on my cheek. "Name?"

"Mellow Summers, but everyone calls me Mel," I replied.

"Do you need a paramedic?" he asked.

"I'll be okay," I said.

"Mickey," he called a female officer over, "take pictures of her bruises. I'm sorry, ma'am, but we have to for evidence when we catch the intruder."

I sat still and allowed Mickey to take pictures of my cheek and my stomach. I had more bruises than I originally thought.

"Now," said Detective Shorts, "Tell me what happened."

We relayed how someone had stolen Greg's car, for which the police put an APB on. I explained that Jackie and Greg ran out to the parking lot to chase the car thief, leaving me alone in the apartment. Afterward, I gave a detailed account of the guy that broke in and knocked me around before leaving.

"Can you describe him?" asked the detective.

"No," I said. "He was dressed in black and wore a ski mask."

"Height?"

"About yours."

"Build?"

I thought a moment. "I'd say about average build. He was strong, but like I said, with the mask, I didn't get a good look at him. It happened so quickly."

"Did he take anything?"

"The memory card." The words were out of my mouth before I had a chance to stop it.

"Memory card?" quizzed Detective Shorts.

"Yes, that's what the guy took," I said.

"Seems odd," said the detective. "Most thieves go for jewels or things of value. Why would he take a memory card?"

"I don't know," I replied and glared at Jackie and Greg to remain silent. "I never got a chance to look at it."

"Where did you get this memory card?"

"I found it on campus in the computer lab," I said.

"By itself?"

I figured there would be no fooling the detective, but I didn't want to tell him what was on the card because without it, how could I prove it? "I was at the computer lab on campus," I said, "when I had to get something from the filing cabinet there. That's when I noticed something sticking out of the carpet behind it. I picked it up and it was a phone. The phone was dead so I figured the memory card within it would tell me whose it was. So I brought it here to plug it into my laptop."

"You have a laptop and you were at the computer lab on campus," said the detective.

"Yeah, I needed to email someone and we don't have the internet hooked up yet; and I don't like carting my computer around," I replied. It was true enough. I hated taking my laptop out of the apartment and we hadn't gotten the internet hooked up. Detective Shorts seemed to have bought the story.

"You had a break-in before haven't you?" asked Detective Shorts.

"Yes," replied Jackie, "we came home soon after moving in and there was stuff everywhere."

The detective made notes in his notepad. His expression remained unreadable. "All right, Miss Summers, we'll put an APB on the car and put a description out on the intruder. However, since you can't give me many details we may not catch him. I can have a patrol car drive by here for the next few days. If you remember anything, don't hesitate to give me a call." He handed me his card.

The police left after they finished taking pictures and dusting for prints. I knew they'd never find the guy. He was a professional who wanted only the memory card.

"I guess we're at square one," said Rachel, appearing from thin air. Greg and Jackie both jumped. Being used to her comings and goings, I barely noticed her.

"Not quite" I said. "We now know who killed you. We just need to prove it."

"How do you propose to do that?" asked Greg.

"We'll just have to follow Detective Reiss and Professor Vincent. I'd like to know what the connection is between the two," I replied.

"Are you crazy?"

I looked at Greg. He thought I was nuts. Perhaps I was. "Look," I said, "we have to do something. Those two have gotten away with murder and rape. I want to know how they know each and what they are involved in. We'll have to have cameras with us at all times and if we can get something, then we'll take it to Detective Shorts."

"And what if he's crooked?" asked Jackie.

"There has to be at least one honest cop in this town," I said.

"How are we going to follow them and stay on top of our responsibilities?" asked Greg.

"We have a ghost," I said. "Rachel, do you think you can keep tabs on them?"

"Certainly." Rachel jumped at the chance.

"Follow their movements and find out their routine," I said. "And if we're lucky, we might be able to catch them on something."

Jackie filled my shift the next couple of days at the Candle Shoppe so that I could take it easy. I appreciated it. Greg stopped by often to check up on me. I thought it was really sweet.

When I finally went back to work, I was glad to find that nothing had changed. The Candle Shoppe was not busy, which didn't bother me. I busied myself, restocking some shelves and arranging the displays. The bell above the door rang and in walked Greg.

"For you," he said, handing me a red rose.

I took the flower. It smelled wonderful. I gave him a hug.

The bell above the door rang again. Seven guys walked in all dressed in leather. I recognized them immediately as the bikers that I had stood up to at Zappy's. My blood started pounding.

"You," said the tall guy whose nose I had broken. "You broke my nose."

"That was a while ago," I said, "and you deserved it." I could have kicked myself for that remark. Was I trying to get myself killed?

"Not many people stand up to me," said the guy, "but you did. You got guts. I like that. My name's Tiny." He held out his hand.

I stared at him. Tiny? He was anything but tiny. I took his hand not wanting to offend him. "Mel," I said, introducing myself.

"Well, Mel, I came down to apologize for my behavior," said Tiny. "I normally don't act like that. It took guts to do what you did. You now have a friend in this town."

I wasn't sure if I was grateful or frightened. I certainly was not trying to make friends when I broke Tiny's nose.

Tiny noticed the fading bruise on my cheek. "Someone hit you? Did you beat her?" he turned on Greg. Tiny picked him up as though he weighed nothing.

"No, please," I pleaded. "He didn't do anything. Someone broke into my apartment when I was home a few days back. He was nowhere around when it happened. And I'd appreciate it if you didn't mangle my boyfriend."

Tiny eyed me a bit before putting Greg down. "You should take better care of your woman. Who was it?"

"Unfortunately, the guy was all in black and wore a ski mask," I said. "The cops said they'd put a description out, but were less than hopeful about catching the guy."

"The cops are useless," said Tiny. "Hey, Sombrero"--a really tanned guy with tattoos all over his arms stepped forward--"put the word out. Anyone know anything about a break-in at Mel's is to tell us right away."

Sombrero left to carry out his orders.

"I don't like people messing with my friends," said Tiny. "We'll find the guy. He'll never bother you again."

"Thanks," I said. I didn't want to know what Tiny had in mind.

"What's going on here?" Mr. Stilton came out of his office. He looked at all of us. I had no way of explaining seven bikers in the shop. Fortunately, I didn't have to.

"We're here to buy some stuff," said Tiny. He snatched the first thing closest to him. It turned out to be a heart shaped basket with romantic candles and perfume all tied with red and pink ribbons. It didn't go with his leather, spikes, and tattoos.

I covered my mouth to keep from laughing. The others followed suit, each snatching the closest thing off a shelf. They went to the counter and I rang up the purchases. Mr. Stilton watched as I took their money and put it in the cash register.

"Let's roll, boys," said Tiny as they all left.

"I better go," said Greg, giving me a peck on the cheek.

I went back to rearranging the displays when Mr. Stilton walked up behind me.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Yeah," I said, "Why wouldn't I be?"

"I heard about the break-in," he said. He took the big, round candles out of my hands. "Take the rest of the day off," he said, "I can handle the store. Fridays are usually slow around here."

I thanked my boss and grabbed my things. Greg met me outside, holding all the stuff that Tiny and his friends had bought. "What..." I began.

"Tiny gave me all this and told me to take you out for a very romantic evening," said Greg, answering my unspoken question.

The roar of motorcycles grabbed my attention. I glanced over and saw Tiny and his pals. He winked at me as they rode down the street.

"Of all the people to make friends with," said Greg, "you just had to befriend the only biker gang in this town."

"I didn't mean to," I said, weakly.

"Don't sweat it," replied Greg. "It could prove useful."

I kissed Greg good-bye and told him I'd meet up with him later. I decided to grab my camcorder from my car and go back to the college. I had a video assignment to do and wanted to get some filming in. My topic: college student life.

I stood just outside the student center with my camera going. After interviewing a bunch of other people eating their lunch, or just relaxing, I figured I had enough to do something with it. I knew this wasn't Oscar winning material, but it would do for my class assignment. I just hoped that Professor Vincent would forget about the incident in the computer lab.

And speaking of Professor Vincent, I noticed him pop up on the LCD screen of my camera. Curiosity got the better of me. I zoomed in. He fidgeted as he stood in a secluded corner. His manner told me that something wasn't right. He clearly did not want to be seen, or bothered, and he was obviously waiting for someone.

Detective Reiss walked into my screen. Intrigued, I zoomed in even more. What were they up to? The two talked a bit and then exchanged brown packages. I had watched enough CSI and detective shows to know that this couldn't be good. I continued filming their exchange. It only lasted a couple of minutes before both parted and went separate ways. Odd, I thought.

My gut told me that they were up to no good. I pulled out my cell and called Greg. He answered on the first ring. "Greg," I said, "I need you to distract Professor Vincent."

"What?"

"I just filmed him and that Detective Reiss exchange something. Vincent is headed back to his office now. I need you to get him out of it so I can search it."

"Are you crazy?"

"Do you want to know what he's up to or not?"

"Okay, okay," relented Greg. "Give me a moment."

I dashed into the building that housed all of the teacher's offices. Thankfully, there was a ladies' room right outside Professor Vincent's office. I waited near there. Greg showed up a few minutes later.

"You want to tell me what this is about?" he asked.

"Haven't time," I replied. "I just witnessed him and Reiss exchange packages. Vincent took it into his office just now. If I can get a look at it, we might be able to find out what those two are doing."

Greg sighed, but agreed that it might work. He went into Vincent's office. I listened just outside the door as the two talked. Greg pretended to have a problem with the assignment and wanted Vincent to follow him outside. Despite his pleas, the professor refused to bite. Frustrated, I knew that if he didn't leave the office soon, I would miss my window of opportunity. I spotted a fire alarm and figured it was now or never. I pulled it and ran to the ladies' room.

Instantly, the hall filled with people evacuating their offices and heading for the exit. I peeked out the door, waiting for the hallway to empty. I watched as Professor Vincent and Greg left.

I slipped out and pretended to go with the crowd, hanging back a bit. When I reached the office door, I took a quick survey to make certain no one saw me. The door was unlocked. I snuck in, closing it behind me. I only had minutes and headed straight for the desk.

Drawers opened and closed as I searched for the package. I hoped he didn't have time to hide it someplace. I found a drawer that refused to budge. Locked. It had to be the one. Sirens echoed in the distance coming nearer. I gritted my teeth and ripped a bobby pin from my hair. I silently thanked Jackie for teaching me how to pick a lock as I put the pin in the key hole. Click. I pulled the drawer out.

Within sat bags of white powdery stuff. I knew they had to be drugs. I found the brown package he had carried earlier. Quickly, I opened it to reveal more. I opened one and tasted it. Drugs all right.

The sirens stopped right outside the building. Shoot! I took out my camera and turned it on. Hurriedly, I snapped pictures of the stuff and slammed the drawer shut. I ran out of the office. Heavy boots sounded in the stairwell. I darted into the ladies' room again. They searched the offices at the far end first. When no one was looking, I seized my chance and dashed to the other exit, hoping no one was there. I ran down the stairs and out the door into the sunlight, slipping in among those gathered around the scene.

I pretended to be just as curious as everyone else as the firemen did their job. After a few minutes, the fire chief declared it a false alarm and allowed people to go back inside. I followed the rest of the crowd as it dispersed, staying clear of Professor Vincent. I went back to the student center and found Greg waiting for me.

"Did you get it?" he asked.

I pulled out my camera and showed him the pictures I took.

"This is great," said Greg. "Now we can take it to the cops."

"And say what, exactly? That I broke into his office and illegally got this? I want more evidence. So far, all I've got is assumptions and circumstantial stuff."

"You sound like a regular lawyer," said Greg.

"Think about it," I said. "We may be able to get Vincent on possession of drugs, but Reiss can still deny everything. He can claim anything was in that bag. Besides, I want them for Rachel's murder."

"You're taking this personally," said Greg.

"Well, yeah," I replied. "They got away with two deaths."

Greg put his hand on my shoulder. "You are a unique person," he said. "Just don't do anything to get yourself killed."

I kissed him good-bye and ran off. The drive back home was quick and uneventful. I dumped my stuff on the couch when I got back in the apartment. Putting my sleuthing on hold, I settled down to do my homework.

The homework went rather quickly, despite being boring. A few essays to write, one film edited. I especially took out the bit with Reiss and Vincent. except, this time, I made a backup copy of it. It was dark by the time I finished my schoolwork.

I stretched my muscles. At least now I'd have the weekend to relax. Jackie and I managed to get the entire weekend off. She walked through the door moments later.

"Where were you?" I asked her.

"Oh, here and there," she said. "I decided to go for a bit of a drive and explore the surrounding area. How was your day?"

I reiterated my capturing of Reiss and Vincent on my camera. Jackie gasped when I told her about sneaking into Professor Vincent's office and what I found. "We need to find what that Detective Reiss is up to," I said.

"I guess we could follow him," said Jackie.

"That's an idea."

"Hey," said Jackie, "I just remembered. Tomorrow the police station is having an open house. They didn't call it that, but as part of their public relations they are doing tours. We could go and somehow slip away."

I smiled at Jackie. "Look at you. You're turning into a regular Nancy Drew. But how are we going to sneak around without getting caught?"

"Your boyfriend has a cousin that works there," replied Jackie.

I had to hand it to her. She did think this out. Maybe it would work.

# Chapter

##  9

The next morning we went straight down to the police station for the public tours. Greg told us that he had talked to Jack. Jack agreed to meet us down there. Greg had wanted to come, but I turned him down. Jackie and I together would have enough difficulty sneaking around. A third person would be even more conspicuous.

A huge crowd had gathered for the tours. Secretly, I was pleased. The more people, the better we can slip away. We got in line and waited our turn to be allowed in. It finally came. We found ourselves bustled in with a group of people. A nice young lady in a black skirt suit led us into the main lobby. "Here is where members of the public enter and wait to speak with the next available officer," she said. I ignored her.

"Look around for Jack," I said.

"We don't even know what he looks like," said Jackie.

She was right. We hadn't thought about that part of the plan. We hung toward the back of the crowd, hoping that Jack would find us. A hand grasped my and Jackie's shoulders. We turned around to be met by a man putting a finger over his mouth, signaling silence. He pulled us around a corner and away from the rest of the crowd.

"Jack," I said.

He nodded. Jack wore black rimmed glasses and had on slacks and a button up shirt. "I hope you two know what you're doing," he said.

"Just take us to where Detective Reiss is," I told him.

"All right," Jack replied, "but be careful. They found out about my hacking into that file. They don't know it's me, but everyone is on high alert."

Jack led us through the building on many twists and turns. I quickly became confused. I hoped I wasn't going to have to try and find a way out. Jack took us to a secluded part of the building. "Here," he said. "Reiss' office is here. Just don't get caught."

A noise sounded in the distance. Jack ran off to check it out, muttering something about staying put. Jackie and I didn't listen. I watched Detective Reiss, intently. He fiddled around in his office. Someone ran in, gave him a message, and left. Reiss glanced at the piece of paper, crumpled it, and put it in the garbage. He left his office.

I motioned to Jackie to follow. We tip toed down the hall after Reiss, trying our best to be quiet. We stayed a distance away so as not to attract attention. We squeezed against a wall in the shadows when he turned around. He didn't want to be followed.

Jackie and I continued after him. He went down some stairs and into the basement. We went after him. He passed through another door and I caught it before it could close. Jackie and I slipped through. I pulled her behind some crates. Reiss stopped at a desk. He talked with the guy behind the counter, but I couldn't hear what he said.

The guy behind the counter pressed a buzzer, allowing Reiss through. He went in. Jackie and I waited. Neither of us talked for fear of giving ourselves away. After a couple of minutes, Reiss came out the door, holding something. I noticed he shoved it in his pockets when the guy at the counter looked at him. He filled out some form and then headed back to the door.

I bolted for the door and once again caught it before it closed. Jackie and I stepped into the stairwell. Reiss had already made it to the first floor. Jackie and I trailed after him. We took the stairs two at a time, being careful not to make any noise. We went through the door only pausing long enough to check that we hadn't been noticed.

Reiss was nowhere to be seen. "Where'd he go?" I whispered.

Jackie shrugged her shoulder in response.

I motioned for Jackie to follow. We crept through the hallway. I searched in rooms, but found no sign of Detective Reiss. My mind raced, trying to discover what happened to him and wondering if we should go back to the lobby. I had almost reached a decision when--

"What are you doing here," demanded a gruff voice.

Jackie and I whirled around. Detective Reiss stood before me and he looked angry. I immediately disliked the guy.

"We were on the tour," I began, "and we got lost searching for the restroom."

"Why were you following me?"

My heart skipped a beat. I pinched Jackie to remind her to stay silent. I hoped he didn't see me. "Following you?" I tried to sound incredulous, hoping my voice didn't give away the truth. "We were not following you."

"Really," growled Detective Reiss.

I had the sudden impulse to run. Only my resolve kept me from acting on it.

"There you two are." Jack marched down the corridor towards us. "I've been looking everywhere for you two. Don't you know you are supposed to stay near the tour group and not wander? Come with me."

"These two are with you?" asked Detective Reiss.

"Of course they are," replied Jack. "I've been searching for them everywhere."

The expression on Reiss' face told me he didn't buy it.

"I apologize if they caused you any inconvenience, Detective," said Jack. "Now, if you'll excuse me. I have a tour to run." He motioned for us to follow. Jackie and I didn't argue, grateful to be out of there.

"What did you two think you were doing?" hissed Jack. "You should have waited for me."

"I'm sorry," I said, "but you disappeared and I didn't want to lose a chance to follow Detective Reiss."

"What did you find out?" asked Jack.

"He went to the basement," said Jackie, "and took something from there."

"The evidence locker is down there," said Jack. "We've had problems of things missing from there. And it's strange that Reiss would be down there since he hasn't arrested anyone lately."

"Do you think he's stealing from the evidence locker?" I asked.

"That's quite an accusation," said Jack, "but I guess it's possible."

We had reached the entrance to the building. I thanked Jack and we left. Jackie and I went back to our apartment. We had nothing else to do that day and I wanted to get ahead on my school work.

Rachel popped in as had become her habit. "Vincent doesn't do much that can be considered illegal," she said. "He hits on just about every young female he finds, but otherwise, he didn't do anything worth calling the cops."

"I found some drugs in his office," I said.

"Really?"

"Yeah, but I want to get him and that detective on more than just possession."

"That detective likes to frequent a place on the outskirts of town," said Rachel. "It's called Sal's. It's a strip joint."

"I guess I know where I'm going tonight," I said, "When does he go there?"

"About every night at midnight," said Rachel.

# Chapter

##  10

I dressed in a rather revealing outfit for my trip to Sal's. I had to borrow some of Jackie's clothes. It was a good thing we wore the same size. According to Rachel, you got into Sal's if you showed a little skin. Despite my discomfort, I justified that it was necessary to find out what Reiss was up to.

I was at Sal's within the hour. It was about fifteen miles outside of town. A perfect place for a bar that offered exotic dancing. I parked the car and got out.

The man at the door took one look at me and let me in. I flirted a bit with him like the other girls did. Blend in, I told myself. Once again, loud music bombarded me. I hated loud music. I wandered around the place. Women danced on the stage around poles. They wore enough to barely cover the essentials.

The full service section seemed to be in the back, which was guarded by a couple of muscular bouncers. I had no desire to get on a first name basis with them. The bartender bustled about the bar, filling orders. Men and women filled the place. I guess some people didn't care where they got drunk.

I walked over to the bar and ordered a Morgan Coke. Everyone else had a drink; I figured I should too to avoid arousing suspicion. I accepted the drink graciously and continued my wandering. No sign of Detective Reiss. I glanced at my watch. Half past midnight. According to Rachel, he should have been here for half an hour already.

"Where is he?" I asked Rachel.

"I don't know. He should be here," said Rachel.

We split up. Rachel searched the VIP section, while I meandered around the main floor. Still no sign of him.

"Hey!" yelled Rachel, getting my attention. She waved me over. "He's in here."

I peeked through the curtain she held out. Detective Reiss sat in the room on a cushy chair. His unbuttoned shirt showed off his hairy chest. He seemed to be enjoying the pleasure of the woman giving him a lap dance. "Nice to know what those who swear to protect and serve do in their down time," I whispered.

"Yeah, he's really broken up," said Rachel.

I spotted an untouched shot of tequila. "Distract the bouncer," I told Rachel. She vanished. I peered over at the bouncer who suddenly seemed be bothered by an unseen assailant. Chuckling to myself, I drank the tequila and stumbled into the private room.

I tripped over my own feet and wobbled, pretending to be drunk. "What's all the fuss in here?" I slurred. I hoped my performance was convincing.

Everyone stared at me. I stumbled around some more until I practically fell into Reiss' lap. "I know you," I said. "You're that guy that handled that dead girl's murder."

"Someone get rid of her please," said Detective Reiss.

"Yeah, it was you all right," I continued. "Some think you didn't handle it right, but that's not true is it?" I leaned in close, letting my alcohol breath overwhelm him. "It's good to know you're doing so well. especially since, you're the one that killed Rachel."

Detective Reiss stared at me. I studied his features for any sign of recognition at her name. His brow flickered for just a moment before he controlled himself. "I think you've had too much to drink," he said.

"That I have," I blurted. "You think you got away with it, but it's only a matter of time until some piece of evidence shows up. He killed her!" I twirled in a circle to make my drunk act appear complete. In hindsight, I might have overdone it. I also hadn't thought it all the way through.

Detective Reiss stood up and approached me. Instantly, I knew I had to get out of there. I edged toward the exit.

"What's your hurry?" said Reiss. "You look like a reasonable girl. And the fun is just starting." His eyes wandered up and down my body. I knew he undressed me with them. I inched closer to the exit.

Reiss lunged and grabbed my arm tightly. His grip told me that I was going nowhere.

"There you are," said a female voice as a woman in tight leather burst into the room. "I've been looking everywhere for you." She noticed Reiss' grip on my arm. "Hey, pal, get your hands off my woman."

Reiss reluctantly let go. "You might want to keep a better eye on your girlfriend."

"That's between me and her," said the woman, waving her curly blonde locks. "Come on, babe," she said to me.

I didn't argue.

"Take your slut and stay out of here," said Reiss. "And remind her to keep her mouth shut, before someone shuts it for her."

I had had it. I could take a few insults, but calling me a slut was the last straw. I don' know why I did it; if it was the alcohol, or Rachel's influence. I whirled around, raised my fist, and plowed it right into Reiss' nose. I felt the bones break and warm blood ooze over my fist.

The woman who saved me stared at me in shock. She seized my wrist and hauled me to the doorway. We found it blocked by a bouncer.

"Let us through," she said, "or you can explain to Tiny why we're late."

That had the desired effect. Tiny must have had quite a reputation. The man scooted away from the door and we entered the main part of the bar.

We remained silent as the woman pulled me through the building and to another secluded room. Inside, sat Tiny and his pals, plus a few women. These girls were all dressed in tight leather and knee high boots. No strippers were present.

"I got her," said the woman. She released my wrist and planted a huge kiss on Tiny's lips.

"Mel," said Tiny, "meet my girl Elise. I noticed you go into the cop's room so I sent her in to get you out."

"Thanks," I said.

"I didn't know you liked these places," Tiny said.

"I don't," I replied. "I was following someone."

One of Tiny's pals gave me a seat. "Explain," said Tiny.

I took a deep breath. "You all know that girl Rachel that was murdered last year."

They nodded in affirmation.

"I know who killed her. It was Detective Reiss. I had evidence that connected him to her murder, but before I could get it to the cops, someone broke into my place and stole it. I found out that he likes to hang out here, so I followed him. I was hoping that I could somehow get him to screw up and pin him for her murder."

"So that's why you went in there," said Elise. "Girl, you've watched too many cop dramas."

"Well, I might not have thought it all the way through," I admitted.

"You certain he did it?" asked Tiny.

"I know he did," I replied.

Just then, Rachel showed up. Leave it to her to just appear when it was inconvenient. "What happened to you?" she demanded.

"Rachel," I replied, "where were you? I could have used you in there! And you've got to quit popping in without warning. I mean really--" I stopped speaking when I realized everyone stared at me as though I had lost my mind. "Did I happen to mention that I can talk to ghosts?"

"I think you had one too many," said Elise, grabbing some water.

Knowing where this was headed, Rachel picked up a bottle of beer and handed it to Tiny. Everyone watched in awe as the bottle appeared to be moving by itself.

"Here you go," said Rachel as she handed him the beer.

Tiny jumped a bit. "You're for real," he said. "My Nana was like you. Said she could see things that no one else could."

"Is that Rachel?" asked one of Tiny's friends.

"Yes," I replied. "She showed up and told me who killed her. She even helped me find the missing proof, but someone else must have known about it too."

"I hate cops," said Tiny, "but I especially hate dirty cops. That Reiss character comes in here all the time for a lap dance and something more. No one goes in there. Being a cop he can make anyone's life hell."

"How do you plan to prove his guilt?" asked Elise.

"I was hoping to shock him into a confession." After I spoke, I realized how stupid my words sounded. As a seasoned detective, he'd never fall for that. "I know it sounds dumb, but at this point, the only way to convict him is to get a confession."

"You're probably right," said Tiny. "Unfortunately, that might be difficult."

"That guy burns me up," said Sombrero. "Always has something weird going on."

"He steals stuff from the evidence locker at the station," I said. "I saw him do it. My guess is drugs. I caught him and a college professor exchanging packages. And I found drugs in the professor's office."

Tiny raised his eyebrows. "What'd you do? Break in?"

My face reddened in embarrassment. In my attempt to prove someone's guilt for murder, I ended up breaking a few laws myself. "Yeah," I said. "And I snuck into the police station and followed Reiss around."

Tiny roared with laughter. "You got guts!"

"Who's the professor?" asked Elise.

"Vincent," I replied, "The guy's a creep. He tried to force himself on me a couple of times."

I heard knuckles crack. Tiny's face contorted in anger. He meant it when he said no one messed with his friends. "Oh, he did? Boys, I think it's time we go to school and get some education."

Tiny's friends all smiled. They understood what he meant. I did too, though I didn't want to know about it.

"Here," Tiny tossed me an onion. "I think it's time you head home. This ain't your kind of party. And the cop will be here for a while."

I thanked everyone and left the building. Despite the cold night air, I relished it. It felt wonderful to get out of that stifling black hole. I breathed deeply, absorbing the fresh air.

I quickly found my car and pulled out onto the highway. Time to head home and to bed. I kept my speed under the limit and made certain not to swerve. I only had the one shot, but I didn't want to get pulled over, regardless. Unfortunately, life had another plan.

Flashing red and blue lights appeared in my rear view mirror. Oh no, I thought. A siren sounded, telling me that I was the one the cop was after. Mumbling a few choice words under my breath, I pulled to the side of the road.

"Quick!" said Rachel. "Eat the onion."

"What?" I said.

Rachel shoved the onion in my mouth, forcing me to take a bite out of it. I practically choked as I chewed and swallowed it. Rachel tossed the onion under the seat.

A tap sounded on my window. I rolled it down. "May I help you, officer?" I asked.

The patrolman pulled back a bit after getting a whiff of my onion breath. Did anyone really think eating an onion would fool the cops?

Another officer appeared at the passenger side window. He shined a light inside. A feeling of dread encompassed me.

"Ma'am, you mind telling me where you are headed?" said the officer by my window.

"Home," I replied. "Don't you want my license and registration?" I thought their manner was odd. Usually, when you get a ticket they asked to see your registration, insurance, and license.

"Please step out of the car," said the cop.

"Why?" I asked.

"Ma'am, please step out of the car," repeated the officer.

I unbuckled my seatbelt and opened the car. "Mind telling me what is going on?" I know you shouldn't get confrontational with a patrolman, but something didn't seem right.

"Put your hands on the car," said the officer.

"Look," I said, "I have a right to know what is going on and why you pulled me over."

"Is this your car?" asked the second officer.

"Yes," I replied.

"You do realize that it was reported stolen," said the first cop.

"That's impossible," I said. "It's my car and I never reported it stolen."

"That remains to be seen," said the first officer.

"Look," I said, "My ID is in the car. The registration and proof of insurance is in the glove compartment. I can prove to you that this is my car."

"Put your hands on the hood of the car," said the first officer.

"Ma'am," said the second cop, "please put your hands on the car, or we'll have to add resisting arrest."

Reluctantly, I put my hands on the car and allowed the officers to handcuff me. Before I knew it, they led me to the patrol car and stuck me in the back. Now I was being arrested for stealing my own car. Something wasn't right and I knew who was responsible for my car being reported stolen.

The officer that had been at my window opened the door to get in. His hat flew off his head and rolled down the road. I knew Rachel had done it. She laughed uncontrollably.

I watched as the guy walked over to pick up his hat. Rachel kicked it and sent it down the road again. Despite my glum mood, I did find it funny.

"Come on!" yelled the second officer,."Just grab your hat and let's go."

Rachel tired of her fun and allowed the man to get his hat. He got in the car and we were off just as another patrol car showed up with a tow truck.

The ride to the police station went quickly. I spent the time wondering what I was going to do. Rachel appeared next to me. "Rachel," I whispered, hoping the cops didn't hear me, "I need you to go back to the apartment. Now isn't the time to be talking to a ghost."

She agreed and vanished.

The car stopped at the station. One of the officers opened the door to the back and hauled me out. There was no way I'd get out by myself with my hands behind my back. The officer placed his hand around my arm and guided me into the building. The station suddenly lost all its charm now that I was being brought in on suspicion of being a car thief.

The officer led me through the lobby. I filled out paperwork and they took my prints. They also took my picture. The vain side of me hoped I looked good. Stupid, I know. After about twenty minutes of being booked, I was led to an interrogation room.

"Don't I get a phone call?" I asked the officer taking me to the room.

He grunted in response.

"Miss Summers." I turned toward the voice. Detective Reiss smiled at me. It was not one of those nice to see you grins.

"No!" I yelled, pulling away. "I don't want to be questioned by him!"

The officer holding my arm resisted my struggles, pulling me into the room.

"No!" I screamed. "Not him! I'll talk to anyone, but him." I twisted and turned, trying to get away. I know it didn't help my image, but I had a bad feeling about all of this. "Let me go!"

"Miss Summers, please calm down," said Detective Reiss.

"I won't let you question me!" I twisted some more. Finally, two officers pinned me against the wall.

"What's going on here?" Detective Shorts arrived. He looked at me, Reiss, and the other two cops.

"I don't want to be interrogated by him," I repeated.

"Let her go," Detective Shorts told the officers holding me down. "Now, tell me what is going on."

"She was arrested for car theft," said Detective Reiss. "Had a few drinks at Sal's and is now resisting arrest."

"Bullshit!" I yelled. "It's my car and I can prove it, but the cops that arrested me never gave me a chance. And I never told you I was at Sal's."

"I learned it from the arresting officer," said Reiss.

"The hell you did," I spat. "I didn't tell them either. But you were at Sal's and threatened me there."

"She's clearly drunk," said Detective Reiss, "and if you don't mind, I have a job to do."

"Give me the file," said Detective Shorts.

"What?" challenged Detective Reiss.

"Take a look at her," said Detective Shorts. "She clearly is not drunk. And since she is adamant about not being interrogated by you, little will be accomplished if you try it. Add to the list that she has now accused you of threatening her."

"You don't believe--"

"The accusation has been made," said Detective Shorts, "which puts you off the case; and it won't be that hard to find out if you and she had a run in at Sal's."

"That woman broke my nose," said Detective Reiss.

"Thank you," replied Detective Shorts, "for confirming your whereabouts tonight. Leave me the file. You are dismissed. Miss Summers, if you please."

I went into the interrogation room and sat down. Detective Shorts closed the door. He undid my handcuffs and offered me some water. I wasn't thirsty. I surveyed my surroundings while I rubbed my wrists. This is not how I planned to spend my night.

"You want to tell me what is going on?" asked Detective Shorts. He pulled out a chair and sat down. "Like, what was that all about?"

"I don't trust that guy."

"Neither do I, but you certainly caused a scene."

"How do you know he isn't listening?" I asked.

"What?"

"I know that's a two way mirror," I said, "and there are cops in the other room listening."

Detective Shorts grinned. "Can't fool you, can I? The intercom is turned off. If anyone is in there, they can't hear us."

I glared at him. He must have read my mind.

"I'm not lying," he said. "Now, what is going on?"

"I didn't steal the car. That car is mine. The registration and insurance are in the glove compartment under my name. My ID is still in the car in my purse. License plate is 5YGM69."

"Congratulations. Even I don't know my license plate number. This should be easy enough to clear up." Detective Shorts went out of the room for a moment. He came back a minute later. "Now," he said, "tell me the rest of it. Why were you at Sal's? Why did you break Detective Reiss' nose? And, why are you afraid of him?"

I sucked in some air. A part of me wanted to blurt out everything. Another part wanted to remain silent. I didn't know if I could trust the guy in front of me. In the end, I chose to risk it.

"He's a dirty cop," I said.

"That is quite an accusation," said Detective Shorts.

"It's true," I pleaded.

Detective Shorts held up his hand to silence me. He walked over to the camera in the room and unplugged it. "Tell me everything."

Where to begin? "I caught Detective Reiss and Professor Vincent on the university exchanging packages. I wasn't spying. I was actually working on an assignment for my film class and just happened to notice them."

"Did you film the exchange?"

"Yes. I think it was drugs."

"How do know that?"

"I kind of snuck into Professor Vincent's office and found a bunch of drugs in the bottom drawer of his desk."

"You do realize that that is breaking and entering," said Detective Shorts, "and I could arrest you for that."

"My boyfriend did mention that." I slumped in the chair.

"Continue."

"Then my friend Jackie and I came to the public tours that were being held here. We snuck off and followed Detective Reiss to the basement. He took something from down there. I didn't see what."

"I'll have to tell Jack to quit doing private tours of the office. I'm well aware that your boyfriend's cousin works in personnel," Detective Shorts finished when he saw my expression. "And then you followed Reiss to Sal's. Want to tell me why you were following him?"

I groaned. This wouldn't be good, but I started talking and now was the time to spill it. "He murdered Rachel," I said. "That girl that was murdered a year ago."

"I know who she is. I also know that Detective Reiss handled that case."

"And he was adamant that Tom did it. But he didn't kill her. I know. I found Rachel's cell phone in the computer lab. I took it home. I know it was hers because the SIM card in the phone said so. She had captured a video on the camera. It showed Reiss and Vincent raping a girl and then killing her. He looked over and saw Rachel. Must have known that she filmed him and killed her.

"When that guy broke into my apartment, he took the memory card from her phone. He killed her. I was following him, hoping to get proof somehow."

After my spiel, Detective Shorts stared at me. I didn't know what he was thinking. He mulled over my statement. "You realize what you just said?"

"Yes."

"If what you say is true, then that means that Detective Reiss not only covered up a crime, but is guilty of theft, and two murders. Except, you don't have the only proof."

"I know," I said. "I wish I did."

"Do you still have the phone?"

"Yes," I said.

Detective Shorts handed me his cell phone. "Call your roommate. Have her bring the phone in. No tricks."

I dialed Jackie's number. "Jackie? Grab Rachel's phone. It's in my nightstand. I need you to bring it to the police station. And bring my camcorder, too. I'll explain later." I knew I had woken her up. At least she was a good sport and didn't ask me any questions. "She's on her way."

A knock sounded at the door. Detective Shorts opened it and talked to the uniformed officer there. I couldn't make out what was said. "Tell me about tonight."

"I followed Reiss to Sal's," I said. "I had a misguided notion of getting him to incriminate himself. He saw me and grabbed my arm." I showed Shorts my arm. He studied the bruises there and made a note. "I broke his nose when he wouldn't let go and called me a slut."

Detective Shorts laughed. "I'm sure he liked that."

Twenty minutes passed and I answered a few more questions. Another knock sounded at the door. Detective Shorts opened it and took a brown paper bag from the uniformed officer. He came back to the table and opened it pulling out Rachel's phone. "Your friend doesn't waste time."

He opened the back of the phone and took out the SIM card, placing it in his phone. Sure enough, it came up as being registered to Rachel. He put the card back in Rachel's phone.

"I'll take this down to the tech guys as evidence. I'm not going to lie to you, Miss Summers. Reopening the case won't be easy. You made a serious accusation that cannot be proven at this point. You broke into a professor's office, so I'm not sure how I can get a warrant. I'll try. You can file harassment and assault charges against him.

"As for Detective Reiss, I need hard proof of everything you mentioned before I can charge him on anything. He won't bother you about tonight. He was off duty at the time and it would be too much to explain."

"What about a confession," I suggested.

"He's too smart for a wire. And don't get any stupid ideas."

His glare made me glad that he was on my side. "It was a thought," I said, weakly.

"Now, you have a bunch of friends out there, one named Tiny, who are all willing to swear that you were with them tonight. They are also willing to swear that Reiss assaulted you and that it was Tiny who broke his nose. You have interesting friends. And good ones.

"Also, your car checks out. Your ID and registration were in there as you said."

Detective Shorts helped me file harassment charges against Professor Vincent. Afterward, he took out the memory card of my camcorder.

"I suggest you keep a low profile," said Detective Shorts.

"I want to know how my car got reported stolen," I said.

"So do I."

The detective led me to the lobby. He made sure my things were returned and that all charges would be dropped so that nothing appeared on my record. When I left the building, Jackie threw herself at me.

"Mel!" she screamed as she hugged me. "What happened?"

"When you go after something, you don't mess around," said Tiny.

Jackie backed off a little. I hadn't told her about Tiny yet.

"Someone reported my car stolen," I began. "The cops didn't believe my story so they arrested me. Then that Detective Reiss tried to have me brought up on charges of assault against a police officer."

"Bastard," said Tiny.

Jackie drove me home. I knew I'd have to get my car from the impound in the morning. It was already around 4am. Another night lost without sleep.

# Chapter

##  11

After getting my car from the impound lot, which cost me about a hundred bucks, I went straight home. I stayed there with no intention of going out. In fact, I wanted nothing further to do with murder, creepy college professors, cops, bars, loud music, or spying on people. As far as I was concerned, my days as a sleuth were done. Only one problem remained: Rachel.

She spent the weekend badgering me about how I had promised to help her catch her murderer. I understood her frustration, but she didn't seem to understand that I could be seriously injured. I had already been attacked by a college professor, a man whom most people would trust. Now I was probably on the hit list of a detective who only wore the badge so he could hide his illicit activities behind it.

Greg was a darling. He cooked me dinner twice and even served it to me in bed. I had certainly picked a good one for a change. Jackie's eyes burned with jealously at first. She still had trouble finding a reliable boyfriend. Greg smoothed things over when he cooked a meal for all three of us. I relished every minute of it.

Monday came like it always does and with it I had to go to work. Luckily, the Candle Shoppe didn't get any odd customers. Only the regulars came. I was glad for a quiet day. It allowed me a chance to do the Halloween display. I spent the day rearranging shelves in the window. We had a huge assortment of candles for the holiday. I picked through candles shaped like skulls, candy corn, pumpkins, black cats, and ghosts. I laughed at the ghosts. If only people knew that ghosts didn't look like that.

After arranging the candles, scented warmers, and candle stands, I sprinkled Halloween confetti around it. Then, I added some cotton to make it look like everything was wrapped in a spider web. After I had finished, I stepped back to admire my work. Perfect, I thought. Hopefully, people would buy the stuff. Mr. Stilton ordered a bunch of it, which now overflowed in the back storage room.

I glanced out the window like I normally do from time to time. Detective Reiss stood on the other side of the street watching me. An ominous feeling welled in my stomach. He knew that I was aware of his crimes thanks to my stupidly letting him know that.

I backed out of the window, watching him as he casually strolled down the walk. A sudden awareness that I had painted a target on my back engulfed me. A part of me wished that I had never met Rachel.

The next morning, I got up early to be on time to my film editing class. I found a seat in the back and hoped that Professor Vincent had forgotten about the incident in the computer lab. I shrunk down in my seat when he walked in with other students. Gradually, people filed in and took their seats.

"Welcome class," said Professor Vincent.

I had to hand it to this guy: he was very good at pretending to be normal. I just took notes and pretended to not remember anything from a few days ago.

Professor Vincent droned on and on. I had managed to block out everything as I automatically took notes. Then, it went silent. I looked up. Tiny and his friends stood in the doorway. Oh no, I thought, this could not be good.

Everyone stared as the bikers strolled into the classroom. They each sat in an empty seat. I started packing my stuff.

"Excuse me," said Professor Vincent, "but this is a class and you don't belong here."

"We're your new students," said Tiny.

"Registration ended a month ago," said Vincent.

"Not for us," said Tiny. He glanced around the room. All eyes were on him. "Class is dismissed for the day."

I didn't need telling twice. I grabbed my stuff and headed out the door. Everyone else followed. They read the signs. They knew that a bunch of bikers showing up in class like that was not a good thing. I hung just outside the door to listen.

"What do you want?" demanded Vincent.

Tiny moved dangerously close to the professor. He leaned in letting his bulk intimidate the man. "I know about you and your lust for young women," said Tiny. "Unfortunately for you, you molested one of my friends."

"I don't know what you're talking about," said Vincent. He nervously shoved his papers into his briefcase.

"I think you do." Tiny wrapped his giant hand around Vincent's wrist. "And if I ever hear of you coming near any of the girls here on this college, you just might find yourself on the front of my bike on a long ride outside of town. Got it?"

"You can't threaten me. I'll report you to the police."

"And who do you have as a witness?"

Fear crossed Vincent's brow. He squirmed uncomfortably.

I had seen enough and darted out the door before Tiny and his friends exited the room. There was no point in letting them know that I had overheard the entire proceeding. Tiny meant it when he said he would deal with the creepy professor.

"Mel, did you hear?" Greg ran up to me.

"Hear what?"

"The police got a warrant to search Professor Vincent's office. They're there right now. And they found the packages of drugs that you took pictures of."

"That's great," I said. "So he's going to be arrested?"

"Looks that way," replied Greg. "Detective Shorts is on his way here right now."

Sure enough, Detective Shorts walked down the footpath toward the building I had just exited. He didn't acknowledge me as he passed through the entrance. That was fine by me. The less attention I attracted the better.

Within minutes he came out dragging a handcuffed Professor Vincent. "I'm innocent! I didn't do it! I'll sue all of you!" yelled Vincent loud enough for the residents of a cemetery to hear him.

"Really," growled Detective Shorts. "Tell that to the D.A. when we show him the amount of drugs we found in your office. And don't worry. I have the warrant right here."

"You can't do this," screamed Professor Vincent. "What about those bikers that came here and threatened me?"

"Bikers? I didn't notice any bikers. You got witnesses?" Detective Shorts dragged Professor Vincent down the walk and to the waiting patrol car.

"I guess I don't need to worry about my eight thirty class anymore," I said.

"Hey," said Greg, "you have to come to the party tomorrow night."

"Party?"

"Yeah. Every year they have a Halloween Parade and some of the stores open up for party goers."

"Halloween isn't for another couple of weeks."

"It's the city's way of ensuring that the adults get to have their fun without interfering with Trick or Treaters."

"I've never heard of this before," I said.

"Well the city council voted for it and no one's disputed it. Most figure it gives them a chance to party twice."

"I don't have a costume," I said.

"I'm sure Jackie can help you with that. She's already agreed to come," replied Greg

Figures. Jackie always loved a party. I bet she had already bought a costume for her and for me.

I breezed through the rest of my classes that day. Hardly anything got done. The campus was abuzz with the news of Vincent's arrest. Many of the young women on campus seemed relieved. My guess was that he had cornered them too, but they were afraid of pressing charges.

Many of the other professors on campus seemed surprised. The guy hid his obsession well. Some of the female professors, however, were not astonished at all. Either way, my classes were more of a study hall as everyone talked about the arrest of a college professor.

I used the time to get ahead on some of my school work. This way I could go to the party with Greg and not have to worry about school, or work. After my time playing detective, I needed a break. I wanted a break.

The only person who could ruin a good time would be--

"Rachel," I said, "you can't expect me to stop living just to satisfy your need for peace."

"But you promised. And think of all the times I got you out of trouble," she pleaded.

"After you got me into trouble," I reminded her.

"Look, I haven't had a chance to go out with Greg in a while. For once, I have a day off from both school and work. I plan on having a little fun."

"So catching my murderer means nothing to you anymore?"

"Rachel," I said, "It's not like that. We know who did it. Professor Vincent was arrested today. Detective Shorts knows that Reiss killed you and covered up the crime. He also knows that Reiss has been stealing from the evidence locker and giving drugs to Vincent. It's only a matter of time until the guy is arrested. After that, he might confess."

"But what if he doesn't?"

"He'll still go to prison," I reminded her. "Look, I know you want him tried for your murder, but without that video evidence it might not happen. At least he'll still go to prison and be off the streets."

"I just wanted him tried for what happened to me," said Rachel. "I want people to know that Tom didn't do it."

"The only way that might happen is if we get a confession. Detective Reiss isn't that stupid."

"You're right," said Rachel. "I guess we did what we could."

"Right," I said. "It's time to let the cops handle it. I am going to have some fun tomorrow and try to be a normal college kid."

I was glad that Rachel relented. What did she expect me to do? I had already solved the case and gave what I had to Detective Shorts. Hopefully, the system would take care of it. All I needed to do was stay away from Detective Reiss.

Jackie waltzed through the door with a couple of bags. Just as I thought; she had gone shopping and bought costumes for the both of us.

"We are all set for tomorrow night," she said. She put the bags down and dumped the contents. "I bought you an Egyptian costume. And for me, I'm going to be a Chinese Empress."

"Considering you're part Chinese, don't you think it's a bit cliché?"

"Not at all. And I'm part Korean, remember? Besides, it was either this or the clown."

"I see your point," I said, picking up my costume. Sometimes I wondered if Jackie was made of money. She worked, but always had a lot of cash. "Where did you get the money for this?"

"I have a rich uncle," replied Jackie.

I didn't know if she was pulling my leg or telling the truth. I figured she had someone who gave her money. "As long as it isn't illegal," I joked.

"Well... you know," smiled Jackie.

The next evening arrived and not soon enough for me. I wasn't the only one stoked for this parade. The entire complex was abuzz with excitement, the same with downtown. Apparently, the parade, and after party, was a big deal.

I twirled in front of a floor length mirror, admiring myself in my costume. Jackie had helped me with my makeup. "Are we meeting Greg there?" I asked her.

They had planned this entire affair as a surprise for me. "Yeah, he'll meet us there," she replied.

"You look good," said Rachel.

"You think so? Thanks." I twirled again.

"You know, in the time I lived here, I never did go to the parade," said Rachel.

"You should come," I invited. "Besides, you could probably get on one of the floats."

Rachel beamed at my suggestion. "I just might do that." She disappeared.

Same old Rachel, I thought. Despite the trouble she caused, I had grown fond of her. She was a good friend despite the fact that she was dead.

Jackie and I left the apartment and went to the parade. We took her car since mine still smelled of onions. She managed to find a parking space right next to the beginning of the parade. I don't know how she did it. Leave it to Jackie to find something. Even if it was the best parking space in town.

Greg met us and led us to where he had already set up camp. "I have food and drinks," he said.

"You guys outdid yourself," I said.

"We figured you needed some time out," said Jackie. "And not at a bar where you try to corner a killer."

I grinned sheepishly. I appreciated what they did, and they were right, I had been a bit reckless lately; and stressed.

The paraded started and all those gathered screamed with excitement. Each float was filled with ghouls, ghosts, and skeletons. Jack o' lanterns littered the sidewalk. I oohed and aahed with the rest of the crowd. People pushed against us as they passed by. With the streets so crowded, it was a wonder anyone could move around.

The next float that rolled by had a giant blown up ghost on it. Black cats surrounded it along with a mesh of pumpkin lights. I nearly choked when I noticed who was on it. Rachel. She sat atop the blown up ghost. She waved at me with a huge grin. I waved back, pleased that she was having some fun.

Rachel jumped off the ghost, causing it to lean back and forth. People marveled at it, thinking that it was part of the show. I laughed out loud.

"What?" asked Greg.

"Just Rachel," I said. "She caused the ghost to move."

"She's here?"

"Of course she's here," I said. "I invited her." My tone ended the conversation.

Just as the parade got to the halfway point, nature called. I frowned. Why is it you always need a bathroom just when there isn't one around? I excused myself. They offered to come with me, but I turned them down. No point in making a big family trip to the bathroom.

The crowd had worsened as I navigated my way to a bathroom. I weaved as best I could. Mostly, I just shoved people out of my way. Some complained, but I ignored them. Did they honestly expect not to get pushed around a bit in this mess?

Naturally, when I reached the bathroom, a line snaked around to the outside and around the corner of the building. I glanced over at the men's room. No one. And guys wonder why women get crazy when it comes to going to the restroom.

I ran over to the men's room. Cautiously, I opened the door. "Hello?" I called.

No answer.

Thinking it was safe, I went in and locked the door. I did my business really quick. Believe it or not, there was actually soap in the dispenser. I don't think most men bother to wash their hands.

I slowly opened the door and peeked outside. Thinking the coast was clear, I slipped out quickly and ran into a guy trying to get in the bathroom. He glared at me, cocking his head so that his pirate hat almost fell off.

"What?" I said. "Have you seen the line at the women's room?"

I ran off, leaving him to ponder my statement. Now that my bladder felt relieved, I wormed my way back to Jackie and Greg. The place was more packed than it was a minute ago. Talk about a popular event.

Calloused fingers wrapped themselves around my arm. A sudden jerk yanked me off my feet. I struggled to get away. My masked assailant dragged my down an alley and away from the parade.

A hand clamped over my mouth, preventing me from screaming. I bit it. In response, I received a blow to my face. A gag was shoved in my mouth and my arms were pinned behind my back. I squirmed as best I could, but it was useless. The man had a firm hold on me.

He dragged me further down the dark alley until the screams of the crowd faded. I lost my breath as the man forced me against a hard brick wall. The foul gag was ripped from my mouth.

"Go ahead and scream," said the man. "No one will hear you." He removed his mask.

Words can't describe what I thought. Detective Reiss stood before me, bearing down on me. Even the wrath of God could not compare to this man's features. He wrapped his fingers around my throat.

"Let me go," I wailed.

Reiss laughed maniacally.

I thought I saw movement behind him. He noticed my eyes flicker and whipped around. Nothing.

"Hoping someone will save you? No one knows where you are. By the time your friends find you, you will be as talkative as that Rachel."

His foul breath curled my toes. "Why did you do it?" I asked. "Why'd you kill her?"

"You're about to die and all you care about is why I killed some stupid college kid?"

I kept my mouth shut.

"You saw that video. You know what would have happened if she had sent it to the station. I couldn't let it happen. Though maybe I should have killed that Vincent then too, but at the time I needed him. I got him the drugs and he sold them on campus.

"Don't look surprised. Every town and college has a dark side. It was a sweet deal. We both made a lot of money. Vincent's problem is he can't keep his pants zipped. If he had, I wouldn't have had to kill that other girl to keep her silent.

"But then that Rachel had to stumble upon us and tape the whole thing on her phone. I chased after her at first, but she got away. Imagine my surprise when I saw her running across the campus, acting all frightened. I followed her. I managed to catch her before she could send that video, but not before she managed to hide it.

"When the captain put me in charge of the case, I could not have planned it more perfectly. Certain pieces of evidence disappeared. I was disappointed when I couldn't pin it on her boyfriend. Doesn't matter. I got away. Her death remains unsolved. Just like yours."

I kneed him in the groin. He loosened his grip just enough for me to push him away. Unfortunately, my costume was not built for running. Reiss grabbed me and threw me to the ground. Bits of broken glass burned as they dug into my skin. He kicked me in the stomach.

"You are proving to be more trouble than you are worth," said Reiss as he circled me. "I don't know how you found out about Rachel, or that phone, but you know way too much." He rammed his foot into my stomach again. "You are a pain. At least you'll bother me no more."

I heard the crackling of plastic. Reiss unrolled a bunch of plastic as he loomed over me. Before I knew it, he wrapped the plastic tightly around my head, covering my mouth and nose.

I flailed my arms frantically to get him off of me. My lungs burned for air.

"With the madness of the parade, no one will notice you for a long time. They may even think it was a mugging gone bad," bragged Reiss. "Either way, I'll be long gone by the time anyone finds your body."

My world began to go black. My mind refused to focus as lack of oxygen got to me. A loud clang echoed in the alley. Reiss dropped me.

"What the..." he began.

I heard him gasp as something hard rammed into him, causing him to double over. He moved around as some invisible force chased him.

Despite being released, I was unable to free myself from the suffocating plastic. I lay sprawled on the ground, waiting the inevitable. Hands grasped me. They tore at the plastic, ripping it from my mouth.

I sucked in air.

"Mel! Mel!" Both Greg and Jackie bent over me, helping me up. I answered them by breathing deeply.

"How'd you find me?" I asked them.

"That's a long story," said Jackie. "Rachel whispered something about you being in trouble. When you didn't return, I called Detective Shorts."

I glanced over and saw Detective Shorts cuffing Reiss. I felt a phone being shoved into my hand. Looking up, I saw Rachel.

"It's all on here," she said. "Make sure that Shorts guy gets it."

"Miss Summers," said Detective Shorts as he walked up to me, "are you all right? Do you need an ambulance?"

"I'll be fine," I said.

Detective Shorts must have seen the pain in my face and waved a paramedic over. "Mr. Reiss has refused to say anything. Can you tell me what happened?"

I handed Detective Shorts the phone. He took it. "Just press play," I said.

Detective Shorts brought up the video that Rachel had recorded. It had everything: Reiss' confession to stalking me, his intention to kill me, and his confession to murdering Rachel. "This should put him away for a long time. Good thinking; recording everything."

"Mel, you play dangerously."

I turned and saw Tiny.

"We ran into him in our effort to find you," said Greg.

After the paramedic examined me and said I would be fine, my friends led me away. We walked past the parked patrol cars. Everyone stared at the commotion. I guess a bunch of cop cars with flashing lights is more interesting than any parade.

"You bitch," Reiss spat at me. "This isn't over. I'll come for you. You can be sure of that."

Usually, I am an easy going person, but that guy really got under my skin. I had had enough of his garbage. I marched up to him when no one was looking. Using the combined energy of my anger and strength, I seized Reiss by the back of the neck and bashed his face three times into the hood of the car.

"This is for Rachel," I said with each bang. "This is for trying to kill me! And this is for being a complete scumbag!"

I stalked off, pleased with my work.

"I think I'm a bad influence on you," said Rachel. She smacked Reiss in the back of the head.

"Well, you know what they say..." I began. "Sugar and spice--"

"--and not so nice," finished Rachel.

We high fived each other. At that point I didn't care if people thought I was crazy as I slapped thin air.

"Did you see that?" yelled Reiss, "That bitch broke--"

"Did what?" demanded Detective Shorts. "This?" He bashed Reiss' face into the hood of the car. "You know," he said, getting close to Reiss' face, "you're going away for a long time with this confession. You know what they do to cops in prison? Especially dirty cops?" Shorts shoved Reiss toward a uniformed officer. "Get this trash out of here."

After I finished giving my statement to the cops, Detective Shorts released my friends and me. In the car, I got the entire story of how they found me.

"Like I said," said Jackie, "Rachel whispered to me that you were in trouble. Greg and I followed her. That's when we met Tiny."

"They told me you were in trouble," he said, "so, of course I came along."

"That noise in the alley told us where you were," added Greg. "Tiny ripped Reiss right off of you after he seemed to take a hit from some unseen force."

"Thanks guys. Especially you, Rachel," I said.

"I have my moments," said Rachel.

"And we found that guy that broke into your apartment," said Tiny. "Reiss paid him to rough you up a bit and paid someone else to take Greg's car."

"Did you take them to the police?" I asked.

"I'm sure the cops will find them at some point," replied Tiny. "Right now, Sombrero and the boys took them on a nice long ride on a very lonely highway."

When I got home that night, I fell straight into bed, and was out cold.

# Chapter

##  12

Several days passed after my near death incident. Something I'd rather not repeat. I hadn't seen Rachel in all that time. I hoped she had finally moved on.

"You got something from the college," said Jackie handing me a letter.

I ripped it opened, hoping it wasn't a bill, or equally, bad news. Instead, it was a check and a letter. The letter was short and to the point. It stated that since Professor Vincent was involved in illicit activities, and was arrested, all classes that he taught were cancelled for the semester. The check was a refund for taking his course. Add to that the fact that everyone who had registered for his class would receive full credit for it anyway.

I guess the university wished to avoid a lawsuit. Especially since a flourish of girls came forward and filed harassment charges.

"Wow, a refund from the university. That rarely happens."

I turned around and there stood Rachel. "Rachel," I said, "I thought you'd have moved on by now."

"Close," said Rachel. "I wanted to give you this." She placed a necklace in my palm. It was a silver dolphin. "I want you to have it," she continued. "I don't need it anymore. It's a thank you present."

"Rachel, I can't."

"Take it. You were the first to listen to me. The first to truly care about catching the guy that killed me."

"It's beautiful," I said.

"Dolphins always were my favorite animal."

"So I guess this is good-bye."

"Yeah, it's time I moved on. Call it Heaven or crossing over if you like, but I know where I belong now, and it's time I go where we all do when we die. My grandmother is waiting for me."

"See you around," I said.

"Oh, I'm sure we'll meet again," said Rachel. "Just don't follow me anytime soon."

I chuckled. "You can count on that. Good-bye, Rachel."

She vanished.

"Hey, Mel, what's up?" asked Jackie, reentering the room.

"Nothing," I said.

"Where's Rachel?"

"She left," I replied.

What else could I say? The time had come for her to move forward. The same for me. Life goes on.

If you like reading about Mellow's adventure, consider sharing your thoughts and get it on audio.

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# _Thank you for reading!_

Dear Reader,

I hope you enjoyed _Sugar And Spice And No So Nice_. When I originally got the idea for it, I had at first planned to make it more of a horror type story, but then decided that a more fun and flirty series was needed. I've always like light-hearted, short stories and felt that Mellow Summers would be perfect for this. Though I like Mel herself, I love the character of Rachel She was my favorite from the moment I first wrote her onto the page, and I cannot wait to see what other trouble she gets Mel into.

Fans have written me, wondering what other adventures are in store for Mel. Rest assured, that her college days will be far from boring. If you have ideas on what trouble she should get into, or just want to tell me what you liked and didn't like, feel free to contact me at authornewsletter@mcnultyjanet.com and you can always visit my web page. Feel free to sign up for my newsletter to learn more about my upcoming works and promotions.

Finally, I need to ask a small favor. Reviews are hard to come by for authors and you, as a reader, have the power to either make, or break, a book. If you are so inclined, please take about five minutes to leave a review for _Sugar And Spice And Not So Nice_. Whether you loved it or hated it--I'd enjoy your feedback.

Thank you so much for reading _Sugar And Spice And Not So Nice_ and for spending time with me.

In gratitude,

# About the Author

Janet McNulty currently lives in West Virginia where she continues to work on the Mellow Summers Series. She began the series two years ago as a fluke, but liked writing it so much, that she decided to stick with it.

Besides writing paranormal mysteries, Ms. McNulty has also accomplished success in other genres. She has a fantasy saga published under the name of Nova Rose and a new dystopian Trilogy as well. "A little something for everyone," she said when asked about it.

Currently, she is finishing up the final book of her Solaris Saga, of which the first installment will be published December 9, 2014.

Of course, writing is not the only passion in her life and every author needs some down time. When she isn't working on her books, Ms. McNulty enjoys reading and just poking around in her garden.

# Get the entire series:

Sugar And Spice And Not So Nice

Frogs, Snails, And A Lot Of Wails

An Apple A Day Keeps Murder Away

Three Little Ghosts

Oh Holy Ghost

Where Trouble Roams

Two Ghosts Haunt A Grove

Trick Or Treat Or Murder

Roses Are Red; He's Dead

Double, Double, Nothing But Trouble

Ring Around The Rosy, Not Another Ghosty

Hickory Dickory Dock The Ghost In The Clock

Boxed Sets

Boxed Set 1 (books 1-4)

Boxed Set 2 (books 5-8)

Boxed Set (books 9-12)

# More By Janet McNulty

Solaris Saga

Also available in audiobook

#

Solaris Seethes

Solaris Seeks

Solaris Strays

Solaris Soars

Or get the boxed set.

**Every myth has a beginning.**

After escaping the destruction of her home planet, Lanyr, with the help of the mysterious Solaris, Rynah must put her faith in an ancient legend. Never one to believe in stories and legends, she is forced to follow the ancient tales of her people: tales that also seem to predict her current situation.

Forced to unite with four unlikely heroes from an unknown planet (the philosopher, the warrior, the lover, the inventor) in order to save the Lanyran people, Rynah and Solaris embark on an adventure that will shatter everything Rynah once believed.

Read a free preview.

Look for the Dystopia Trilogy

Also available in audio

Dystopia

Tempered Steel

Liberty's Torch

Or get the boxed set.

Imagine living in a world where everything you do is controlled.

In the distant future the United States has been split into two regions separated by a barren wasteland; this is the country of Dystopia. Here the individual is discouraged, freedom is an illusion, food is rationed, and everything you do is tracked by a chip implanted in your arm. This is Dana Ginary's world.

At age seventeen, people receive their career assignments chosen for them by a government body. Forced to work at the Waste Management Plant because she was declared too individualistic, Dana finds herself surrounded by death and brutality. Knowing her days are numbered, she looks for a way to leave the plant before she, too, becomes one of its causalities..

It is then she meets a man named George and soon finds herself caught up in a cat mouse game between the resistance and the Dystopian government. Dana finds herself faced with an agonizing choice of whom she will betray and whom she will save: her friend George, her parents, or herself.

Enter the world of fantasy with the Lands of Tesnayr

Tesnayr

Amborese

Galdin

Or get the complete set.

Enter the Lands of Tesnayr and join on an epic fantasy adventure that spans over 1,500 years.

Begin with Tesnayr, the first king of the five lands as he unites the against a savage foe bent on their destruction.

Next, Join Amborese as she fights reclaim the throne after her family was forced to flee from it.

Thinking peace has finally entered the land, follow Galdin as he returns to Tesnayr to find it greatly hanged. Barbarians, led by a mysterious sorcerer, burn and destroy as they go. And only Galdin can stop them if he chooses to accept his fate.

Grandpa's Stories: The 20th Century As My Grandfather Lived It

My grandfather grew up in Arizona during the 1920s and 1930s. One week after the attack on Pearl Harbor he joined the Navy. During the summer of 2012, my mother visited him and recorded his stories about growing up, World War Two, and time as an employee at the Pacific Bell Telephone Company. This is the history of the 20th century as he lived it. These recordings make up this book. These are his words.

Books for Children

**Mr. Chili Series**

Mr. Chili's Chili

Mr. Chili Goes To School

Mr. Chili's Halloween

Mr. Chili's Christmas

Or get the boxed set.

**The Dragon Who Series**

Also available in audio

The Dragon Who was Afraid of the Dark

The Dragon Who Went to the Moon

The Dragon Who Found a Monster Party

The Dragon Found a Spider in his Shoe

The Dragon Who Explored the Sea

The Dragon Who Caught a Cold

**The Fairy Who Series**

The Fairy Who Lost a Tooth

The Fairy Who Got Lost

**Other books**

Mrs. Duck and the Dragon

The Hungry Washing Machine

Rhymes-a-lot

Are You the Monster Under My Bed?

How Do You Catch An Alien

Or get the boxed set.

### Prologue

Marlow warned this day would come. The day when Lanyr, my home, would cease to exist, destroyed by a man who thought only of the power he could acquire. Before he died, Marlow made me promise to look after his granddaughter, Rynah--to guide her.

"She is the key," he said, "the key to stopping a most dangerous man."

My name is Solaris. I am a ship, a vessel some consider archaic, but I have a secret--a purpose.

### Chapter 1

A Planet Destroyed

Rynah straightened her charcoal gray, form-fitting uniform as she hurried down the asphalt walkway to the tall, glass doors leading to the geo-lab. Her tailored, steel toed boots (that laced up the sides) clicked on the pavement with each purposeful step. The sun's invigorating rays barely registered in Rynah's mind; too consumed with humming merrily to herself, she didn't even notice when she had passed through the revolving door, her automatic movements from thousands of trips through it having dictated her actions. Absentmindedly, Rynah twirled the small (and loose) silver band on her ring finger, the one her new fiancé, Klanor, had given her that morning.

"Rynah," greeted the lady at the front desk as she walked in. "You seem rather jovial this morning."

Rynah blushed, her heliotrope cheeks turning a nice shade of pink. She couldn't help but smile after receiving the engagement ring. She held up her hand.

"Oh, so he proposed!"

"This morning."

"Well, if you ask me, it's about time."

Rynah grinned as she took the holopad and signed in for her shift. "Anything new?"

"Nope. Quiet as usual."

"Rynah!"

Rynah whirled around. General Delmar, her former commander when she had been part of the Lanyran fleet, stood behind her. "General, I didn't expect to see you here."

"I had a meeting with Doctor Sonorus. So this is where you work these days?"

"It's much quieter."

"Too bad. You were my best pilot. I don't know why you left the fleet."

"You know why," said Rynah as thoughts about her grandfather and the trial that ruined his (and her family's) reputation filled her mind.

"Yes, I suppose I do." He spotted the ring on her finger. "When..."

"This morning." Rynah blushed again.

"Well, he's lucky to have you." General Delmar tipped his hat and passed through the glass doors and into the sunlight.

"He seems nice."

"He is my former commanding officer," replied Rynah. "I'll see you later."

Rynah hurried away to the back elevators in the rear of the building (which only the security officers used) and placed her palm on the holopad, allowing the green light to scan it. It dinged as the doors opened and she stepped inside. Automatically, she pushed the button that instructed the elevator to go to the underground bunker and the lab itself. She tapped her foot impatiently as she waited for the elevator to reach its destination; her fingers fiddled with the amber ring that hung from a silver chain around her neck before shoving it under her shirt.

Glancing into the reflective, metal interior, Rynah realized that she had forgotten to put her hair up in compliance with uniform regulations. She shoved her hand into her pocket and found a clip, which she had put in there in her haste to leave for work. She scooped up the silky strands of her dark emerald hair and twisted them into a bun before securing it with the clip.

The elevator stopped and the doors slid open. "You're late," said a rough voice as Rynah stepped out into the geo-lab.

"Sorry, sir," Rynah replied in a businesslike manner.

Her commanding officer snatched her hand, noting the ring that had not been there the day before. "I'll let you slide this time, but don't make a habit of it."

"Yes, captain." Rynah hurried away to her station on the other side of the lab directly opposite the main door.

"All right," said the commander to everyone within the lab. "Get ready to initiate the systems check." Technicians punched sequences into their holomonitors, preparing for the one time a year when the computers within the geothermic lab had its systems purged of unnecessary data, though it meant shutting down all major systems. "On my mark. One... two... mark."

The constant hum that filled the lab dwindled as the main computer shut off.

"System purge in progress," said one technician. "Estimated time until completion is 15 minutes."

"Understood," said the commander.

The door to the lab thundered as it shook violently, rattling and vibrating against the concrete brick wall. Stunned, Rynah spun around, not believing what she heard. Another tremendous boom echoed through the room as something slammed into the door from the other side. Bits of dust and rock fell from above with each barrage of the invaders. As the realization that those on the other side posed a threat, lab technicians scurried about, desperate to flee the onslaught.

Another bang on the metal door echoed throughout the underground chamber, etching dimples into it. One frightened lab technician shuddered, sending papers flying in every direction.

"Brace the door!" yelled Rynah, her security uniform giving credence to her orders.

Other security officers raced to the protruding steel door, placing magnetic brackets on it in an effort to seal it and stop the invaders from breaking in. It did little to slow them.

"How are they breaking through?" Rynah asked herself.

"Rynah!"

She whirled around to face her commanding officer as he pointed to the vents in the ceiling with a red laser beam poking through. Damn! Rynah snatched her side pistol and fired two laser pulses at it. The vent popped open as a man fell through it and onto the cold floor by her feet. She flipped the corpse over with the toe of her boot; she didn't recognize him, but he bore the insignia of the Lunyra Movement. Perturbed, she pondered why he was there. Violence was not in their manifesto.

Another earsplitting thud against the door ripped her back to the present moment. She looked at the door to the lab. A gigantic dent emerged from it as the door weakened. It will never hold. "Commander! We need to get these people out of here!"

Her commanding officer nodded, barking orders at passing officers and motioning for them to follow him. Rynah did as well.

"Rynah, your key," said her commanding officer.

She pulled a key from her pocket; it matched the one her commander had as well. Following suit, she placed her key in the hole, waiting for orders.

"On three. One, two... three!"

In synchronized movement, they turned the key. A brick popped out of the wall, revealing a holographic screen with coordinates. Rynah typed in numbers and algorithms. A panel slid open, revealing a hidden tunnel as lights flickered on in the stainless steel interior.

"Get these people out of here!" ordered her commander.

"I'm not leaving you all here!" protested Rynah.

"Go! That's an order!" He ran to the door with a troop of security officers.

Rynah watched him go, torn between obeying orders and fighting alongside her fellow officers. "Come on!" she barked at the lab technicians. Two hurried into the tunnel, fear etched on their faces. She waved more through as they carried what they could, their lab coats flailing behind them.

Another bit of thunder roared through the underground lab as the door was struck again. One of the hinges popped off, sailing to the far side of the room and landed with a distinct clink. The invaders slammed into it again, firing repeated rounds from their pulse cannon at it. The booms ricocheted off the walls.

Rynah turned just in time to see the steel door burst into a thousand tiny pieces. She ducked, shielding her face from the explosion. Eerie silence followed.

"In!" yelled Rynah to two more lab technicians. She turned back to the door; waves of laser fire pelted her comrades who had taken defensive positions by the door. Screams of death filled the area as officers dropped before the onslaught. A laser blast struck the wall near Rynah's head, barely missing her, but forming a blackened scorch mark. She ducked, twisted around, snatched her pistol, and fired at the man who had tried to kill her.

She scanned the madness before her until her eyes fell upon the opaque, orange crystal seated on its pedestal. How could I be so stupid? In all the commotion, she had forgotten to grab it.

Under normal circumstances, the crystal was never to be moved, but considering that thieves had broken into the lab, Rynah figured that rule could be broken. She hoped to protect the crystal until a time when it could be put back where it belonged.

Rynah left the tunnel opening, darting for the metal, spiral steps that led to the crystal. Fire rained down upon her, pelting the concrete floor with each step she took. Chunks of concrete dropped from the ceiling, crashing to the ground behind her; Rynah flung herself to the floor to avoid being struck by the shards of metal showering all within the lab. Assessing the situation, she crouched on the ground--more of the invaders swarmed through the smoldering hole in the lab that had once been a protective barrier--when she remembered the crystal. Rynah shot to her feet. She jumped on the stairs (ignoring the swaying motion as some of the screws and holds had come loose) and charged up them, taking two steps at a time.

Laser fire whizzed past her. The slow creak of a dangling light alerted her to immediate danger. Rynah ducked just in time to avoid the swinging light, which had lost one of its cables and careened for her. She spotted an invader. Pulling the knife from her boot--something she had always carried when laser pistols were insufficient--Rynah slashed the other cable that still held the light; it stopped in midair before plummeting to the ground, crushing the invader that had aimed his weapon at her. Smiling to herself, Rynah continued up the staircase.

She had just reached the crystal when the explosion from a pulse cannon rocked the entire lab, sending bodies flying; one smashed into her, pinning her to the metal floor. Stunned, Rynah watched, dazed, as men rushed into the lab, killing any security officer they found. Her senses returning, she shoved the dead weight off her, only to discover that it was her commander.

"Commander," she whispered, feeling guilty for being so rough.

Her commander's eyes fluttered open, focusing on her. "I thought I told you to leave," he coughed as blood trickled out of his mouth. His head rolled to the side and his eyes closed for the last time.

Infuriated, Rynah raised her pistol and shot one of the invaders in the chest. She jumped to her feet and dove for the crystal. Her fingers almost touched it when a steel grip seized her wrist and yanked her back.

"I can't allow you to do that," said a voice she recognized.

"Klanor," breathed a surprised Rynah as she looked at the man in charge of this entire invasion. "What..."

"I told you not to come in today," Klanor said as he released her.

Rynah couldn't believe it. The man she vowed to marry, the man who professed love to her only hours before, now stood before her with a demeanor she had never seen, or thought possible with him. It was as though he had locked all of his emotions away.

"Why?"

"You're so gullible, Rynah," said Klanor. "Why not?"

"But you and I--"

"A means to an end."

Rage boiled within Rynah at Klanor's betrayal. She glared at him, watching his every move as he snatched the crystal from its pedestal. For a few moments, Klanor held it in the light, admiring its beauty and power.

"You take that and you condemn this planet--our people--to death," said Rynah. As though to add credence to her words, the ground jerked.

Klanor just smiled malevolently at her. "I sincerely hope so."

The ground split open beneath their feet as steam and spurts of molten rock spewed forth. Panicking, some of Klanor's men ran. Rynah lunged for Klanor. He blocked her attack, sending her flying. Snatching a bit of fallen rubble, Rynah charged him again, catching him in the forehead; blood poured from the wound. Infuriated, Klanor punched Rynah, crystal in hand. He grabbed her arm, wrenching it behind her back and positioning her ear near his mouth.

"You thought I actually loved you," he whispered. "The crystal is mine, and soon, the others will be as well."

With fluid movement, Klanor released his grip on Rynah, sending her tumbling down the stairs. Dazed, Rynah lifted her head and stared straight into Klanor's black eyes. He ripped out his laser pistol, aiming it directly at her. They glared at one another as Klanor's finger strained against the trigger, shaking as he inwardly debated killing her, turmoil reeling within him. At that moment, his animus face showed a flicker of sorrow.

The ground quaked, knocking Klanor off his feet. Some who had fallen over rolled into the cracks that had formed; their screams indicating a painful death. Jagged cracks shot up the concrete walls, stretching to the ceiling as it split and fell apart. More rubble crashed around her. Knowing she would never get the crystal back, Rynah gripped the metal bar of the railing and leapt over it, landing on the unstable ground below. She pitched forward and somersaulted when the ground jerked again. Desperate, Rynah raced for the still open tunnel.

"Get her!" shouted Klanor, charging down the steps. The toe of his boot touched a slender, shiny object, inadvertently nudging it; its clinking caught his attention: Rynah's ring. It had slipped off her finger in her haste to escape. With a delicacy his beefy fingers would otherwise portray, Klanor picked it up, twirling it before ramming it into his pocket.

One of his men lunged for Rynah. She dodged, grabbing his arm and flinging him to one of the cracks where black, fluidic rock poured forth. She stretched her legs, running as fast as she could. A concrete block crashed into the ground in front of her. Rynah jumped over it. The top of the doorframe to the tunnel began to crumble. Putting all of her effort into it, Rynah flew over the ground and dove through the opening before it caved in.

"Forget her!" Klanor yelled as the ground quaked again. "Time to move out!"

On the other side of the rubble, Rynah paused, catching her breath as she glanced back at Klanor, encumbered by sheets of holographic paper falling from the split in the ceiling amidst the swirls of smoke, and the bodies of those she had left behind. Emotions reeled within her at the loss of her friends and the betrayal of the man she loved. Vowing revenge, she straightened and raced down the tunnel. The entire area shook and jerked, making her efforts to flee difficult. With each step, she had to land differently so as not to lose her balance. A piece of the wall fell before her. Rynah swerved around it and continued on. Her boots clopped against the stone floor as she raced for the exit, hoping to escape the rage her planet flung at her.

Light spilled from up ahead. Hoping that she had reached the exit, Rynah picked up her pace. Chaos trailed behind her as she raced against the savagery of her planet for the opening at the other end, which was her only salvation. Sparks flew from the lights that blew out and crashed. Rynah reached the end of the tunnel just as a crack burst open behind her. She jumped over the steps, taking them three at a time, until she burst through and into the open sunlight.

Rynah stopped. The horror that lay before her took her breath away. How has it come to this? Smoke rose in swirls from the ground as lava shot forth, covering what used to be fertile grassland. Fire swept over the trees and foliage that had once brought life to her world. Rynah looked straight ahead. The shipyard lay not far away. She needed transportation.

Running to the transport area, Rynah scanned the line of hover crafts for one that she could easily steal. People darted about the compound, fearful of being killed. One man stopped in front of Rynah, noting her uniform, and looked at her with pleading eyes, asking what he should do. "Make your way to the shipyard and get on the nearest transport," she told him.

Rynah pushed past him and continued on to the transport area, where she found an open top hover vehicle. She leapt into it, pulling off the paneling under the gear shift, and hot-wired it--a skill she had acquired in her youth--thus turning on the engine. "Who needs keys?" she whispered to herself.

Rynah put the craft in forward and sped off. Wind ripped through her long locks--she had lost her hair clip during the firefight, as they never hold when one is darting about in an effort to avoid death--as she steered her way to the nearest shipyard. A hover vehicle rushed past her. The driver was just as desperate as her to escape the carnage. The ground split open in front of her, spewing molten lava and creating a deadly geyser that melted any who strayed too near. Rynah pulled back on the accelerator and twisted the joystick so the craft banked to the right, going around the inferno. She straightened the hover vehicle and punched the accelerator once more.

A group of people on the side of the lane waved at her, calling for help. For a brief moment, Rynah considered leaving them, but the small voice in the back of her mind reminded her that she was still a security officer. Rynah steered the craft towards them. Grateful, the small group of five gathered around her with their bundles.

"Leave it!" yelled Rynah, tossing one of the bags over the side and onto the black dirt. "Just get in!"

The frightened people leapt into the vehicle too afraid to argue. Cursing about the time lost, Rynah slammed the hover craft into full speed and sped down the lane towards the shipyard. Her heart sank as she watched several spacecraft take off. Knowing she only had minutes before the last ship left them for dead, Rynah pushed the hover craft to the point of breaking; its violent jerks indicated it had reached its top speed. The child in the group she had picked up wailed. Rynah ignored his screams; there wasn't time.

They entered the shipyard. Suddenly, the ground beneath them burst open with a shower of steam. The force of the impact knocked the hover vehicle off balance until it slammed into the dirt. Once the spinning had stopped, Rynah crawled out.

"Is everyone all right?"

A few nods answered her question.

"This way! Quickly!" Rynah helped the others up and pushed them towards the nearest transport ship. The vibrating ground beneath their feet made each step they took wobbly. They reached the stairs that led to the open door. Rynah turned around, pushing the group of five ahead of her. A man stood in the open hatch of the ship, waving them onward.

"Hurry!"

The child and its mother went first, followed by the two men and elderly woman. Cracks and splinters appeared on the steps as they bent and curved unnaturally. Rynah hoped they would hold a bit longer. Once the last of the group had entered the ship, she paused and looked around for any stragglers--a fateful decision. A tremendous quake shook the earth, sending Rynah flying over the railing and tumbling to the ground below. Pain rocked her body as she slammed into the black dirt with trails of smoke enveloping her.

Dazed, she looked up. The hatch had been sealed as the man had passed her off as dead. A low rumble filled the area as the engines of the ship sprang to life and carried its load to the open atmosphere above.

Cursing her luck, Rynah glanced around, as all of the transport ships lifted off in an attempt to carry their passengers to safety, leaving her behind. Frantic, she searched for a lone ship that she could board. Nothing. A plume of smoke and steam burst from the ground as a new split suddenly appeared, forcing Rynah to jump back and warning her that the lava geysers neared. Time ran short. Rynah jumped to her feet and ran hysterically towards a transport ship that slowly ascended into the air.

"Hey!" she yelled, waving her arms, "I'm here! HEY!"

She stopped. It was useless. No one would hear her, much less bother stopping for her. A lone building lay ahead. The sight of it sent a memory slamming into her--the way asteroids crash into the earth--as that building had once belonged to her grandfather; she remembered he had stored a ship there. Willing to gamble that no one had moved it, and desperate to escape, Rynah raced for the hangar, its faded and stripped paint being a welcomed sight, stretching her long legs as far as she could and hoping that she made it in time.

A lava bomb crashed into the once well-tended lawn, flinging bits of rock and dirt at her. Shielding her face, Rynah continued in her race against her planet's clock. Drops of water pelted her skin--one of the underground pipes had burst and poked out of the ground--and drenched her.

She burst through the door to the hangar, her lungs heaving, and stared at the archaic ship, whose systems had been deemed outmoded. But the ship was not entirely unpleasant to look at, as its copper paint still glittered--as though it had been freshly painted--and beckoned her to come forth. The ship's stubby wings, a sleek design from 50 years ago, seemed ready to stretch and fly. In fact, it was, for this ship was no ordinary ship; this ship had a name painted in dark gold lettering on its rear near the hatch: Solaris.

Rynah paid little attention to the aesthetic value of the craft, her only concern being if it would fly. She ran up the ramp--though she could have sworn it wasn't open a second ago--and into the belly of the ship. Racking her brains to remember the layout from the time her grandfather had brought her there as a child, she charged down the corridors--the ship was much larger on the inside--to what she believed was the flight deck. Ray beams shot out of the walls, stopping her.

"DNA scan in progress. DNA match. Welcome, Rynah," said a feminine, and remarkably human-like, voice.

The white beams dissipated. Rynah didn't remember the ship having a female voice, or any voice for that matter. She shook her head. Now isn't the time. Her steel-toed boots clomped on the metal grate that formed the floor as she raced through the winding, yet what seemed surprisingly straight, corridors, going upward until she reached a set of steps--just above them and to the side was another set leading to the weapons array--which she scaled in one leap.

Rynah surveyed the area. She had found the command center, though it was unlike any she had seen before, with the flight console (and not even a trace of dust) directly ahead and two polished chairs next to it, each possessing a helmet that telepathically linked one with the ship, all of which looked out a 20-by-25-foot (and remarkably clean) window. Mesmerized by the practically brand new state of the ship, Rynah forgot about her plight, taking the time to stroke the smooth, marbled console as she eased into the soft, cushiony seat. She had half expected to find coffee stains from when pilots neglectfully spilled their cups, or smeared mayonnaise from a late-night meal that someone accidentally dropped, or nicks and scuffs from normal wear and tear, but no stains, smears, nicks, or scuffs were to be found. Only her reflection from the glossy surface stared back at her.

A furious grumble resonated beneath her, reminding her of the danger she remained in.

"The planet appears to be in peril," said the same feminine voice. "What are your orders?"

Rynah rammed the helmet onto her head. Her mind was filled with the ship's systems, charts, status reports, how full the fuel tanks were, and anything else the ship's sensors recorded.

Depart, she thought.

What about launch procedures? asked the ship, Solaris, using the same telepathic link.

Ignore them.

Solaris obeyed. As the ground quaked one last time, the ship plowed through the ceiling of the hangar, leaving a hole that would anger the groundskeeper under normal circumstances, and charged into the smoke filled sky, a sky that had once been a light lavender in color. Rynah listened to the engines as she glanced down at the devastation below. Overwhelming sadness filled her. Her planet gone. So many people dead. And why? Because Klanor wanted the crystal. But why did he want it?

The purple atmosphere gave way to the inky darkness of space as the ship exited the upper stratosphere. There was no sign of the other ships.

Destination?

To the Chestur Nebula. Unable to think of anywhere else to go, Rynah decided she could hide there until she figured out what to do next.

### Chapter 2

A Prophecy

A harsh bleeping from her alarm yanked Rynah from a deep slumber. Groggily, she rolled over and shut it off. Rynah rubbed the sand from her eyes as she peered out the window into the gas cloud beyond, speckled by small dots of gold and blue and veiled by the rainbow of colors from the nebu-la she hid in, but it still felt barren to her, much like her heart.

Space; so cold and dark. She missed the purple sunrises of her home planet, the soft glow of gold on the edges of the mountain peaks, the warm breeze that always flowed through her tresses, and the burnt orange clouds that she always managed to detect shapes in, one of her favorite pas-times. All of it gone. Memories flooded her mind, such as afternoon walks (and most of them with Klanor when her heart had been full of love and possibilities) on the silky, emerald grass of her home, the field near her apartment complex that teamed with wildlife (rabbits, squirrels, and ba-goons-a cross between a badger and a raccoon), the melodic churning of the Wesyr Brooke, and her most favorite place of all, Sesir Cliff, a precipice in the wilds of Lanyr that Rynah had explored on numerous occasions with her grandfather. She still visited it, even after the argument that severed their bond, a constant regret. Now nothing remained but a burnt and scorched planet well on its way to becoming a barren wasteland.

Rynah sat up, allowing her emerald hair to flow over her lavender-colored (a very light shade at that) skin; specks of gold accentuated her waves of dark emerald tresses, forming highlights that even the dim lighting failed to hide. She stood before the mirror.

"Water," she said.

Cool water poured from the faucet, obeying her command. Rynah cupped her long-fingered hands underneath it before splashing refreshing liquid on her face, washing away any remnants of sleep. A small glint from the bronze band (a simple piece, plain, save for the small circles carved along the edges) she wore on her wrist caught her eye. She stroked the smooth surface with her slender fingers, remembering the day Marlow had given it to her. "Keep it with you, always," he had told her. She never knew why, and probably never would, but Rynah never took it off; the bracelet had become a constant adornment on her arm, but now it was her only constant in life.

Marlow's amber ring dangled from her neck as she leaned over the nickel plated sink. Like she had done with the bracelet, Rynah caressed the ring, admiring the smoothness and grandeur of the amber. Her grandfather had willed it to her upon his death. Rynah never understood why. The ring was insignificant, since amber was common on Lanyr and lay in almost every bit of jewelry (rings, necklaces, bracelets, and earrings) that for Marlow to give it to her seemed a pitiful apology.

Rynah remembered the last time they had spoken to one another, the day of the argument. Months had passed since the trial and he had been committed to the mental institution to serve his sentence. She had stopped by to tell him of her mother's passing; her father had died years before.

"Well," she had said when Marlow remained silent after she had delivered the news.

"What do you want me to say?"

"That you're sorry."

"I can't," Marlow had said.

"You can't, or you won't?" Rynah leaned closer, stretching across the sleek, transparent, alumi-num table.

"Where is my ring?" Marlow had asked.

Rynah had been aghast. Of all the times to think of it, all he wanted was his amber ring, which had been confiscated upon his committal to the institution and was returned to him upon his release. "Your ring? Is that all you can think about? Your stupid ring?"

"It is most important."

"Your daughter, my mother, is dead and all you care about is that ring! Do you not know why you are here? For years, you locked yourself in your study, poring over those dusty books, and we ignored it because we thought that every man needed a hobby--and how could reading books be dangerous? But then you had to try and steal the crystal from the geo-lab."

"I did it for you, for all of you."

"You're insane! Do you know what we have had to go through since that day? The sneers, the whispers, the constant taunts?"

"Is that why you work at the lab now?"

"You killed my mother. You! And your obsession. I'm ashamed to even know you."

Marlow slapped her, the first, and only, instance when he did.

"I'm done with you," Rynah hissed.

As she rose to leave, Marlow reached over and snatched her arm, his grip unusually strong for one his age. "You must find that ring and keep a close watch on the crystal in the lab, but most im-portantly, keep the ring safe. Only it can control them!"

Their conversation had ended with the orderlies pulling them apart. They dragged Marlow back to his room, kicking and screaming at her to get his ring and protect it. As his next of kin, Rynah could have claimed Marlow's effects from the front office, which would have included his amber ring, but she chose not to. Angered, and convinced that he had lost his mind, she left the building and never spoke to her grandfather again.

Rynah pulled herself away from her painful memories and back to the present. Dwelling on the past served little purpose. She held the amber ring in front of her face, allowing it to shine in the fluorescent light. When Marlow died, and the executor of his will handed her the ring, Rynah un-clasped the necklace she had worn, removed the conical-shaped pendant, replacing it with the ring, and placed it around her neck, where it stayed. Within that ring was her regret at never having mended the relationship with her grandfather. If this bit of jewelry was important to him, the least she could do was abide by his last wish and keep it safe.

What am I to do now? she asked herself.

Five days she had hidden in the gas cloud and still did not know what she should do. Having only just escaped the destruction of her planet, Rynah jumped on the nearest ship--luckily it had been her grandfather's--and flew away at hyperspeed into the darkest reaches of space where Klanor's minions couldn't find her.

"Good morning, Rynah," said a voice over the intercom.

"Morning, Solaris," said Rynah as she returned the ship's greeting.

Solaris was not just the name of the ship, but the ship itself, an artificial intelligence that ran the ship's functions and interacted freely with the crew, or, as it happened, Rynah. Having Solaris meant that Rynah did not need anyone aboard with her. She didn't even have to pilot the vessel if she didn't want to. She never knew why her grandfather had put an artificial intelligence on the ship, remembering when he bought the rusted, grungy, bucket of bolts from an auction when it had been decommissioned as a military vessel. Oh, the hours Marlow spent repairing it, or her, now, since she most definitely had a name, and a personality to match. Rynah felt a mixture of gladness and an-noyance. Out here, Solaris was her only companion.

"Did you sleep well?" asked Solaris.

Rynah chuckled to herself as she listened to the feminine voice, realizing why her grandfather had made it that way. Men, she thought. "Yes."

"Your voice betrays you," said Solaris. "You dreamt of the destruction again."

How did Solaris always know? "Perhaps," said Rynah, putting the towel back on the rack. "I cannot get it out of my mind."

"What do you plan to do now?"

Rynah sighed. She hadn't thought that far. She thought of Klanor, remembering every detail of his face as he marched into the Geothermic Center, or geo-lab, as she called it, and stole the crystal. The moment he removed it from its place, the planet shook, causing immense turmoil. Fire spewed from the ground, engulfing everything in its path.

"I want that bastard to pay."

"Klanor?"

"Yes," Rynah whirled around, even though there was no way to face Solaris since she was a ship. "He took everything! Everyone I ever knew, everyone I ever cared about! Dead!"

"Perhaps you should choose another course of action."

Rynah didn't listen. Her mind focused on Klanor and his betrayal, all after proposing to her that morning. Anger seethed within her. A thought struck her. She remembered Klanor speaking about a place he always liked to visit, a place at the heart of the Twelve Sectors, one that many visited be-cause of its rich blues and unique wildlife (it was home to the Wingabur, a rare species that was somewhere between a bear and a pigeon) and flowing rivers of water the color of sunset orange. Perhaps (as thoughts of how she would punish him, torture him, percolated through her mind) she would find him there.

"Solaris, set a course for the Amyran System."

"Negative."

Rynah's eyebrows arched. "What do you mean negative?"

"As in, not possible."

"I wish to go to the Amyran System," repeated Rynah, her voice growing tight.

"We are not going."

"Why not?"

"I refuse to take us there."

"Listen here, you stupid computer--"

Steam burst from the vents as the door to her room slammed shut, the lock clicking into place. "Don't you dare talk to me like that, you ungrateful rugrat. Marlow, your grandfather, created me while you were still playing with toys. Now I want you to apologize."

"But he did not purchase this ship until--"

"I existed before this vessel."

"I'm not..." clicks and rattles circled Rynah, indicating that she was at Solaris' mercy "... sorry."

"What was that?" demanded Solaris.

"I'm sorry," said Rynah in a more apologetic tone.

Silence.

"What do you think we should do?"

"Locate the crystals."

"The what?"

"The crystals."

"They are a myth."

"And yet you spent the last two years guarding one," said Solaris.

Rynah rubbed her temples. She could not believe that she had spent the last several minutes ar-guing with a computer that her grandfather had built years before, much less that the same computer had an attitude. Knowing that she would never be allowed to leave the room unless she agreed with Solaris, Rynah relented.

"What must I do?"

"Your planet's crystal was one among six," said Solaris.

"What do you mean?"

"While you slept, I did some checking in my archives," said Solaris. "There were six crystals in all. Each given to a planet to protect them."

"I know that much," said Rynah, growing impatient.

"But what you do not know is that the crystals can be put together, like a puzzle, to create one of the deadliest weapons the universe has ever known."

"What kind of weapon?"

"One that can be used to create as well as destroy. According to my calculations, Klanor plans to use the crystals to destroy entire solar systems and create his own empire. It is the same as the an-cient prophecy."

"And how would he do that?"

"The power of the crystals can be wielded when they are close together, I suspect, but Marlow discovered that a certain device exists which utilizes the crystals and their energy in a more con-trolled manner."

"Energy?"

"It can be destructive. To locate the crystals and this device, we must rely on the prophecy with-in the ancient texts."

"You don't know where it is?"

Rynah's sarcasm did not go unnoticed as Solaris huffed, the way that only a ship with personali-ty can.

"Sorry. I just assumed--"

"You assume much," said Solaris, "and to your own detriment. Instead of making false assump-tions, you might try listening."

"But my grandfather--"

"Marlow may have been well-versed in the lore of the crystals, and though he knew more than most, he did not know everything. Unfortunately, he died before he could..." Solaris cut herself off.

"Could what?" Rynah's curiosity had been piqued. Did her grandfather share secrets with a ma-chine that he felt could not be entrusted to another of flesh and blood? "Solaris, did my--"

"If you wish to have answers to your questions, you'll have to study the prophecy."

"Don't talk to me of prophecy," snapped Rynah. "Klanor is a despicable man who deserves to be punished for his crimes and I intend to see that he is! Prophecy be damned!"

"Your grandfather did not share your sentiments," reminded Solaris.

Rynah paused. She remembered her grandfather and the stories he had told her. His favorite was an ancient myth about six crystals. She always thought it referred to how her planet had gotten their crystal in the first place, but her grandfather was not so certain. He always reminded her that myths told one as much about the past as they did about the present and future.

"Solaris," said Rynah, "what were the lines of that prophecy in the myth of the six crystals?"

Solaris recited the lines:

Six crystals in evil's grasp:

one lone exile with fury's wrath.

Four you need from thirteen:

four heroes of faith and belief.

The warrior of nobility,

descended from the line of kings.

Strength and prowess he commands

from his frozen homeland.

A philosopher whose wisdom all need;

knowledge and learning are his deeds.

A scholar of myth and history

will guide you on this journey.

The inventor with guided skills,

machines and mechanics fulfill

his days; all of which shall prove

most useful in the darkest grooves.

And the one who loves when all is lost;

do not let timidity

blind you and deceive,

for he shall bear the highest cost.

Blood ties that run deep,

Blood shared from conflict reaped.

Traitors they were called.

Heroes they are all.

"It's so vague," said Rynah, remembering why she always hated myths. "'Four from thirteen.' What does that mean?"

"As you well know, there are 13 sectors in the known universe," said Solaris.

"There are only 12," said Rynah.

"There are 13. But your people only dealt with 12, as you have always thought the 13th too primitive. It is called the Terra Sector."

"The Terra Sector," breathed Rynah. "Bring it up on the screen, please."

A screen in Rynah's room flashed to life as images swept across it and two giant planets soared by. One had a series of rings, reminding Rynah of a rainbow, and the other had a thinner, almost transparent ring, but bore a giant red spot amidst striations of white and pinkish-red. She almost missed the small, red, uninteresting planet that only spent seconds in her room. The images stopped when a picture of a mostly blue planet (with white swirls that she guessed were clouds and brown jagged shapes that seemed to have a bit of uniformity to them) filled it. Rynah remembered the sto-ries about how her people had wandered the universe once before settling in the Lanyran Sector. Tales told of how they had chanced upon a blue planet--uninteresting at best and overrun by savage beasts--and used it as a place to dispose of their garbage, conduct repairs, or what some might call, a pit stop.

"They are much more advanced than when your people were last there several millennia ago," said Solaris. "According to my long range sensors, they have satellite communications, have gone to their moon, and have a proposed space launch to visit their neighboring planets."

"So they have achieved space travel."

"To a degree, yes."

Rynah studied the image on the screen. "Impossible."

"Not really," said Solaris. "The people there are quite intelligent and adapt easily to their chang-ing environment. And there is one other thing."

"What?"

"Their planet has no crystal."

"Then how do they control the magnetic fields and prevent their sun from destroying them?" asked Rynah.

"Their planet has its own magnetic field generated by its molten core, which works in conjunc-tion with their ozone layer, thus preventing solar flares from burning them alive. It happens natural-ly."

"That last verse you read," said Rynah, "'Blood ties that run deep.' What does it mean?"

"I do not know," replied Solaris. "Your grandfather had a theory, but he never told me what it was. All he said was that our two worlds were connected in ways far beyond our knowledge."

Rynah groaned. "What does that mean?"

"Knowing Marlow, something important."

"Solaris, do you think the prophecy could be true?"

"Your grandfather did, and if you want to stop Klanor, you best hope that it is."

Rynah studied the earth and its shimmering blue color with the white clouds moving past. Could it all be true? Knowing she had little choice if she wanted to bring Klanor to justice, Rynah decided to risk it.

"Five against Klanor are better odds than our current number," said Solaris, urging Rynah to make up her mind.

"Set a course for the Terra Sector," said Rynah, knowing that this was what Solaris wanted in the first place. "Search through their history to find any who match the prophecy."

"Course set," said Solaris.

Rynah sighed.

"And, Rynah," said Solaris, "do not even think about shutting me off and pursuing Klanor alone. Your grandfather put measures in place to prevent such an action."

"Of course he did," muttered Rynah, with distaste. "So I am your prisoner."

"No, but I will not let you go off half-cocked on a quest to get yourself killed."

"Fine, I guess we'll do this your way." Rynah turned back to the holoscreen. "I guess you were right, grandfather," she said as she flicked off the screen.

She went to the medical bay to find something for her headache, the lights turning on the mo-ment she stepped inside. Rynah searched through the cabinets, with not a smudge on the transparent doors, finding one filled with colorful vials: some clear, some red, some blue, and some with a yel-low sludge (which she hoped to never have occasion to find out what its contents were), particularly a purple one, the only one of its kind. Curious, Rynah picked it up and inspected it, turning it in her nimble fingers.

"Solaris, what is this?"

"Those tubes all have nanobots and each performs a certain function," replied Solaris.

"But what is in this vial?"

"Those are the experimental nanobots," said Solaris. "Before he died, your grandfather had been experimenting with a series of nanotechnology that, according to him, could save lives. It has never been tested."

Rynah placed the purple vial back on the shelf with the other bottles of nanobots. "Is everything in this medical bay decades old?"

"Many of the medicines here have a lifelong shelf life," replied Solaris, "and nanobots have an infinite lifespan as long as they remain in those vials. After being administered, they become part of the circulatory system and will eventually decay, passing through the urine. I assure you that the items in this area can be used."

"Good," said Rynah. "Where's the aspirin?"

"Second shelf on your right."

Rynah reached for it and popped a couple of pills in her mouth.

"I have calculated the time variance for bringing our guests aboard," said Solaris. "They all live in different periods of the planet's history. But I can bring them here using a collapsing wormhole."

"How are you able to do that?" asked Rynah.

"You will have to be patient with them, as they will not fully understand where they are," con-tinued Solaris, ignoring Rynah's question.

"Will you answer me?"

"I'm sorry, but you did not specify a question."

Rynah groaned, having the distinct impression that Solaris purposefully evaded her question. "Will you be able to send them back?"

"Yes," said Solaris, "but that will require a new set of calculations, allowing for variances in space and time, and can only be done once."

"How long before you are ready to transport them?"

"I can do it within the hour."

"Very well."

Rynah left the medical bay for the mess hall. Her grumbling stomach reminded her that she had not eaten for at least 20 hours. Along the way, she passed a framed portrait of her grandfather. She always recognized the dimpled chin with a brown freckle in its center, the crooked nose, from a time when someone punched him over a dispute of spilt beer, and the twinkling eyes that looked as though they belonged to a younger man and not the aged face of which they were a part. But it was his smile that intrigued her most of all, the inward smile of one who knew a secret that he would never reveal.

"Apparently, you know something that I do not," she whispered to the portrait.

### Chapter 3

Solon

The salty sea air, with a hint of autumn's chill, ruffled Solon's chocolate-colored hair as he raced across the paving stones--his sandaled feet clomping against them much like a trotting horse--past laurel trees, and--pomegranates! Solon changed direction, heading straight for the only pomegran-ate tree in the atrium and its freshly ripened fruit. Dropping the scrolls that filled his arms, he plucked a firm one from its branch, licking his lips while thinking of the delicious treasure deep in-side the fruit's red barrier, which also happened to be his favorite.

A small sparrow jostled the pomegranates, jerking Solon back to the present, and the fact that he was late. Scrambling, he scooped the fallen scrolls (and the pomegranate) into his arms, his scrawny frame barely able to carry them all, and hurried to the marbled steps of the library.

Unfit for the infantry, Solon's father had arranged for him to be a scribe. Always a thinker and wonderer, Solon didn't mind as he detested physical exercise, a fact that now plagued him as he ran up the stone steps. A scroll plopped on the ground. Solon stopped, turned, and picked up the parch-ment. Rearranging them in his arms, while taking extra care not to drop his pomegranate, he took off again, taking the steps two at a time until he passed the two ionic columns at the top, and made his way to the main chamber where the scribes sat at their desks copying scrolls.

Breathless, Solon paused to slow his breathing and reassured himself that he hadn't left any-thing behind in his haste, before facing his master.

"Late again," said a gruff voice.

"Sorry, master," said Solon. "I forgot the time."

"You always forget the time. Daydreaming again, eh?"

Solon shuffled his feet, his guilt evident. Daydreaming was one of his bad habits. He always did it, thinking about the world, about life, about morality, what could be, and what is. He could never stop his wandering thoughts. As a result, he was always late.

"I am sorry, master. I will try better."

"Solon, the only reason I gave you this position was because of your father. But if you continue to fail reporting here on time, I will be forced to let you go."

"Yes, master."

"Now take your seat."

Solon walked over to his desk, dumping the scrolls onto it, allowing two of them to roll over the edge and plop on the marble floor. He rolled one out and uncorked his bottle of ink, placing his quill pen in it. He scribbled a bit on the parchment before stopping. A tingling sensation struck his skin.

"Solon, why aren't you writing?" asked his master.

Other eyes turned to look at him.

Solon put his quill to paper again. Once more, the tingling sensation prickled his skin. He stopped. Slowly, an orange and yellow light enveloped him, attracting the attention of everyone in the room. It swirled around him, growing brighter and more insistent.

"Solon?"

"Master, I--"

Zap!

Solon and the pomegranate were gone. All that remained was an empty seat with an unrolled scroll and a quill in the middle of spilt ink.

### Chapter 4

Alfric

Alfric ran ahead of his men, 20 in number, his bearskin cloak (made from the same bear he had killed in his youth) flapped behind him, exposing his kyrtill (and the gold embroidery marking his station as king) as they chased the enemy army that had--foolishly--dared to invade his kingdom and steal the treasures that he had brought back from his journey south. Their thundering feet warned all of an impending storm: the storm of retaliation.

"Bring me their heads!" Alfric yelled, ignoring the strands of ashen blond hair that fell in front of his eyes. Sword raised, he pushed further ahead; his bulky frame made him a terrifying force to be reckoned with.

His boots left deep impressions in the half-thawed earth as he charged over fallen pines, snow-encrusted junipers, and twisted vines amidst the patches of soiled ice. Frozen vapor frothed before him with each breath.

Something slammed into him. Alfric crashed to the icy ground, losing his hold on his sword. He rammed his foot into an approaching invader. The man buckled over. Alfric jumped to his feet and knocked the man to the ground. Another attacked from behind. Alfric whirled around, elbowing the man and catching him in the jaw. The smear of warm blood on his elbow told him his aim had been true.

One opponent tried to punch him in the face. Alfric dodged, ducking low and snatching his sword. He stretched up, ramming the blade into the man. Before the second could pounce on him, Alfric struck him with the hilt of his weapon. Leaning over his opponent, he glared at the man who awaited death.

"I want you to look upon my face," said Alfric. "I am Alfric, son of Erik, and Viking king. You, who tried to steal from me, this is your just reward."

Alfric raised his sword to deliver death's stroke. A bright, yellow and orange light enveloped him. Mesmerized, the man on the ground just stared at it as it grew brighter, until there was a loud--Zap!

Alfric was gone.

### Chapter 5

Brie

Brie Reynolds' sneakers smacked the cracked asphalt in the alley (with a manhole cover in its cen-ter, coated in grayish, dried gum), her backpack thumping against her with each step she took. Why did being 16 have to be so difficult? If only high school would end so she could leave the conceited sports teams and pompous cheerleaders behind. She turned a corner, dodging into another person's yard (decorated with a blue picnic table and patio umbrella with daisies painted on it, despite the shabbiness of his neighbors), before diving through a loose board in the wood fence (its edges rot-ted) and into another alley, and forced to squeeze past an abandoned, green Cadillac (with rusted fenders and a missing left, rear tire) that nearly blocked her path.

Brie wished she could disappear. Once again, she had been forced to flee for her life from Jenny Sommers (the popular girl in her school who always had the latest clothes in fashion, dated the star football quarterback in a clichéd high school romance, and had recently received a Lexus convertible for her birthday) and her friends, who were just as spoiled. Because her father was a successful lawyer, Jenny had the best of everything and looked upon those who didn't with disdain. Every year she picked a new target; this year, that target was Brie.

Alone, with her mother and little sister, Brie had been forced to be the parent. Her father had died six years previously in Afghanistan, forcing her mother to take on a second job just to pay the bills and keeping her away from home most nights, and the bad economy did little to help. The talk-ing heads on television insisted that the recession was over and things were getting better. That may be the case in their world, but not in Brie's.

In her house, it was as though the Great Depression had hit. She took her sister shopping for new clothes (which were little more than other people's castoffs) at the Salvation Army. Transporta-tion meant taking the bus or walking. Food usually came from bargain marts that sold canned goods with dents in them, or the local food bank, an activity that Brie loathed because every lazy scum, who never wished to work, but only wanted a handout, came too, along with the people who truly needed the assistance.

"One day, things will get better," her mother had told her.

Brie wished things would improve right now as she crouched behind a dumpster, praying that Jenny Sommers and her friends would disappear.

"We know you're here, Reynolds!" yelled Jenny. Her friends giggled.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are!" called Burt, one of Jenny's friends.

Brie peeked around the peeling, green dumpster, doing her best not to gag from the stench. All of her exits had been cut off. Cursing, she wondered why she had been so stupid as to come here. Why didn't I just go home when I had the chance? Brie shifted a bit, hoping they'd give up.

Thunk!

Someone had tossed a rock against the metal dumpster, chipping its already faded green paint. They knew she was there.

"You can't hide forever, Reynolds!"

Brie spotted it: a small opening underneath someone's fence. She bolted from the dumpster, heading straight for the tiny opening. Brie dove for it, scrambling to get through as her pursuers chased her. She lurched, but her backpack had caught on the wire. Desperate, Brie flailed her arms, scratching and clawing at the ground to get free. Hands grasped her ankles, yanking her out from what could have been her salvation. Brie found herself being pushed around from one person to the next until her head spun.

"What you gonna do, Army girl?" taunted Jenny.

Brie's father had been in the Army, hence the name. "Just let me go," said Brie.

"Not until we're done talking to you," said Jenny. Her friends laughed.

"Why do you hate me so much?" asked Brie.

"Because you exist."

"Just let me go, please," pleaded Brie.

"Look, Army girl is scared," laughed one of Jenny's friends. "She's shaking."

Brie tried to control her quaking knees, but the boy was right; she was shaking. She had never been a very courageous person. Brie always hated conflict.

"Why don't you fight me?" Jenny shoved Brie.

Brie didn't answer.

"Come on, Army girl. Get some balls!" Jenny shoved Brie again with a force that knocked her to the concrete.

Knee stinging, Brie just lay on the ground unsure of what to do. A tingling sensation prickled her skin as a yellow and orange light enveloped her.

"What's that?" asked Burt.

"What's what?" Jenny turned and watched awestruck as the light grew brighter and brighter un-til it hurt her eyes. Shielding them, she just stared at Brie as she disappeared behind the light.

Zap!

Only bare pavement remained. Brie had vanished.

### Chapter 6

Tom

"Tom Sanderson."

Tom jumped up, carrying his invention, an engine that ran on the polarity of magnets, to the front of the academy auditorium. He proudly displayed it on the pedestal, hoping the academy heads would give him his chance. It was the year 2099, and at the age of 20, Tom had created the fuel-less engine, or at least he hoped he had. After several mistrials, and disastrous mistakes, he prayed he had gotten it right this time as the academy heads might not listen to him again.

"Thank you, professor," said Tom. He dropped a folder with his papers and specifications of the engine. In his desperate attempt to catch them, Tom scattered them around his feet, some flying off the stage with each movement of his hands. Embarrassed, he crawled on the floor, picking them up, hoping it didn't reflect poorly on his performance. Judging by the academy heads' faces, it did.

"Are you ready, Tom?" asked the headmaster.

"Yes, sir." Clearing his throat, Tom started again. "As you know, we have had many advance-ments in motor technology within the last 250 years. First with the steam engine of the 19th century and internal combustion engine of the 20th century. Later, in the year 2032, that engine was re-placed with the hydrogen one. But such a conversion was not without its risks.

"Today, I propose a new way of powering our vehicles, with the new, fuel-less engine. This pro-totype does not use fossil fuels or hydrogen. It uses magnets."

Laughter echoed throughout the room. Tom felt what every inventor who had attempted to do the unthinkable and untried felt: irate frustration.

"No, really," he said, "this engine runs on magnets. It works according to the principle of per-petual motion. Over the past 85 years, others have tried to produce the fuel-less engine, using mag-netic theory, but each of them failed. I have succeeded where they could not. The field produced by each magnet generates enough molecular energy to not only power this light bulb, but our cars and aircraft. Think about it. No longer will we have to worry about pollution or fuel shortages. This en-gine is clean, efficient, and affordable. It could even generate enough electricity to power one household for a month."

More laughter.

Irritated, Tom lost his temper. "I don't appreciate your cynicism."

"Tom, you have been here several times in the past with this engine, and each time, it proved a disaster."

In response, Tom plugged the light bulb into his engine and flipped the switch. A soft whir filled the room as the engine vibrated, jostling the table it sat on. The bulb flickered to life, slowly at first, before shining bright, illuminating the stage area and reflecting off Tom's ebony skin. Amazed, the eyes of the academy heads widened; they leaned closer, placing their elbows on their armrests. A satisfied smile crossed Tom's face. He had done it. He had achieved the impossible.

A prickling sensation touched his skin as the room became electrified. Not sure of what to do, Tom stood helpless as a yellow and orange light surrounded him, cutting him off from the others in the room. It grew and grew until he could stand it no more.

Zap!

Tom, and his engine, had disappeared.

### Chapter 7

Heroes Summoned

Rynah stood in the transporter room, waiting for her guests, if one could call them that. She watched as the room filled with the yellow and orange light that usually accompanied teleportation. Secretly, Rynah was amazed that Solaris had managed to pull off such a feat. Each person material-ized before her until they had solidified and the light dissipated.

"They are here," said Solaris.

"Who are you?" roared Alfric as he pointed his sharpened sword at Brie, who shrieked and fell to her knees.

"Back off!" Tom shoved Alfric away from the frightened Brie.

"You dare touch the son of Erik?" roared Alfric.

"Yeah, I dare," said Tom. Though he had no idea what had happened or where he was, he im-mediately disliked this muscular man who wore fur, wielded a deadly weapon, and smelled as though he hadn't bathed in over a year.

"What is going on here?" asked Brie, still watching Alfric with frightened eyes.

Solon remained still, observing the entire proceeding with a pensive look on his olive complex-ioned face.

"I demand to know where I am," roared Alfric, swinging his blade until it smashed into a com-puter console, sending shards of glass tinkling to the floor.

"STOP!" Solaris' voice rang throughout the transporter room, causing everyone to cease their fighting. "Flinging your sword all over the place. Look what you've done!" Solaris referred to the shattered console. "You could injure someone with such reckless actions. Now, we have a proposal."

Taking her cue, Rynah stepped forward. "My name is Rynah and this is my ship."

"Ship?" asked Brie. "Like a spaceship?"

"Yes," replied Rynah, "We are in the Lanyran sector, my home, and this is my ship. I have brought you here because I need your help."

"What in Odin's name is all this?" demanded Alfric. "Ships do not fly in the skies."

"Actually they do," said Tom. "We have many--"

"Enough!" yelled Rynah, growing impatient. "You are all from a different time on your world, and I have brought you here because I need your help. But first, introductions. This is Solon, from your year of 751 B.C. Alfric, from your year of 1163; Brie Reynolds, from your year of 2014; and Tom Sanderson, from your year of 2099."

The four new arrivals looked around at each other, (Alfric, a fearsome man who was over 40 years old; Tom, a man with black skin and only 20; Solon, a scrawny boy of 17, who, in Alfric's opinion, needed to eat more meat; and Brie, a girl of 16, too frightened to move) all with expres-sions bearing a mixture of astonishment and trepidation, still not believing they were on a spaceship.

"As I've said, my name is Rynah, from the planet Lanyr. Now, if you'll please follow me."

The four unlikely, and still very confused, heroes followed Rynah down a slew of burnished cor-ridors (that harbored the fresh scents of citrus, marigold, and holly, thus surprising the new arrivals) that twisted and turned until opening to the medical bay. Unable to contain his curiosity, Tom pushed and tapped every button and switch he saw, forcing Rynah to seize his hands and steer him away from his fascination.

"Why are you taking us to the clinic?" asked Brie, pinching herself so that maybe she would wake up.

"This is the medical bay," answered Rynah. "Since none of you have ever been in space, I am going to inject you with some nanobots."

The four arrivals' faces twisted in a mixture of confusion and disgust.

"It's quite harmless," soothed Rynah. "The nanobots are meant to help you function in an artifi-cial gravity atmosphere. They will also allow you to speak to one another so that Solaris will not have to use her translators. I assure you that you have nothing to fear."

"Function in an artificial gravity atmosphere?" asked Alfric, the words sounded foreign on his tongue.

"In other words, these nanobots"--Rynah held up a vial of miniscule bots--"will prevent you from becoming ill." She glanced at Solon, whose normally olive toned skin had turned a pale shade of green. Knowing that he was already experiencing space sickness, she put a vial of nanobots in the shotgun (as she called it) and injected them in his neck. Within moments, Solon's color returned to normal and his stomach quit mimicking a ride on a rollercoaster.

"Who's next?"

No one moved.

"Or are you all afraid?" challenged Rynah.

Alfric stepped forward with a stern expression. "I fear nothing." He tipped his head to the side so that Rynah could inject the nanobots.

Tom went next. Nanobots were familiar to him, even if they were still a bit new for his day. "Why not?" he said as he allowed Rynah to inject him.

"Next," said Rynah, looking at Brie.

Still unsure of everything, Brie traipsed forward and sat in the chair, lifting up her mousy brown hair. Rynah reached back without looking, snatched the purple vial from its shelf, and rammed it in the gun. With a robotic movement, she placed it on Brie's neck and injected the nanobots, tossing the empty vial in the trash. The sharp prick stung a moment, but faded as Brie rubbed the tiny red mark on her skin.

"I will take you to the briefing room," said Rynah, closing the cabinet with the vials of nanobots.

"How big is this ship?" asked Tom, enthusiasm filling his voice.

"There are three decks, a kitchen, storage area, the bridge, and a cargo bay. And you will each have your own room," replied Rynah, as she set a vigorous pace through the ship. "In short, this ship is big enough to hold about 50 people."

"Like an apartment complex," said Brie.

"I suppose," said Rynah, "to put it in your terms."

A door swooshed open, allowing them inside a well-lit room with an elongated table in its cen-ter, surrounded by chairs that tipped to the side and squeaked with each movement. Tom pivoted one, inspecting it and noticing a small speck of rust (something Solaris had inadvertently missed in her effort to maintain a tidy environment), his curiosity always getting the better of him. "I take it this ship isn't very advanced."

"This is the most advanced ship of the Lanyran fleet," boomed Solaris' voice from the intercom. "Though I have been out of commission for 50 years, I am highly functional and much more capable than many of my newer, and inexperienced, counterparts."

All eyes, except Rynah's, searched for the source of the voice, still not used to a ship that spoke freely.

"Be careful of what you say," Rynah told Tom. "Solaris is a bit sensitive. She has not had the pleasure of company since my grandfather parked her in that hangar. Unfortunately, neglect has rendered her in this condition, but I assure you that Solaris is reliable and she will not let us down in our mission."

"Mission?" said Tom.

"Our?" added Solon.

Rynah sighed. "I come from the planet Lanyr in the Lanyran Sector. Yesterday, my entire planet was destroyed by a man named Klanor. He broke into the Geological Institute, which ran the Geo-thermic Lab, of my planet. I was part of security. "

"A rent-a-cop?" asked Brie.

Rynah's eyes narrowed. She did not like that reference and took it to be an insult. "Security. Klanor stole a crystal from the underground lab. This crystal controlled the magnetic fields of my planet for the last 1,500 years. Without it, the fields become misaligned and cause massive earth-quakes, volcanic eruptions, weather disruptions--"

"Global warming," interrupted Brie.

"Actually," said Tom, "it's global cooling. You see, the ice caps have been increasing in size and scientists are afraid of another ice age."

"No, the ice caps are melting and sea levels are rising. We've had a 1 degree increase in the earth's temperatures," argued Brie.

"In actuality, it was a 2 degree drop in global temperatures," Tom refuted. "In fact, last year--"

"Enough!" Alfric's voice bellowed across the room, drowning everything. Brie and Tom shrank back in their chairs. "You will release us at once."

"I most certainly will not," said Solaris.

"I'll not be your prisoner," Alfric's normally cream colored face had turned plum red.

"I cannot send you back," replied Solaris. "Not now, anyway. Bringing all of you here drained most of my power reserves. They will have to recharge before I can send anyone home, though I had hoped you would at least listen to Rynah's story first. Besides, transporting a person too often can result in death, so I urge you to listen."

"Continue," said Alfric. He noticed Solon fumbling with his pomegranate in an effort to open it.

Plunk!

Alfric sliced the fruit open with his sword, spraying pink juice onto the table, much to Solaris' annoyance as she detested spills, spots, and any sort of uncleanliness.

"Thank you," mumbled Solon.

"Without that crystal," continued Rynah, "my planet will remain a dead rock."

"So you need a magic rock to save your planet?" asked Tom.

"It doesn't work like that," said Rynah. "The crystal is more of a data core that was inserted into a giant computer. It kept the magnetic fields intact, which allowed life to flourish. If I can restore it quickly, I might be able to prevent any permanent damage to my home world. However, the longer it takes, the less likely the chances of saving my planet become."

"But, there's more, isn't there?" asked Tom.

Rynah chewed her lower lip. "Yes. There is more than one crystal. If all of them were to be united, they could create a most deadly weapon. Solaris... I intend to stop such a thing from hap-pening, but need your help."

"Why us, specifically?" asked Tom, willing to go along for the moment.

"Solaris believes that you four meet certain requirements."

"What requirements?"

"A prophecy speaks about four people from a distant planet none have ever been to who come and save us. Of course, I never thought that you all would be descended from the vermin that resid-ed in that sew--" Rynah cut herself off. She glanced around the room, realizing that she had said too much.

"Vermin?" asked Brie. "We're vermin to you?"

"I didn't mean..." began Rynah.

"Yes, you did," said Brie. "You've been looking down your nose at us since we got here."

"No, I..."

"Prophecy?" laughed Tom. "You brought us here because of some prophecy?"

"I want to go home," muttered Brie.

Rynah's cheeks reddened.

"Prophecy is just a glimpse into the future given to the past so as to help the present," said So-lon, speaking for the first time since they entered the room. His quiet voice calmed everyone.

"Perhaps you should start from the beginning," suggested Tom.

Rynah opened her mouth to speak, but Solaris cut her off. "There is an ancient legend on the planet of Lanyr about a man who wielded a weapon of terrible power. It destroyed entire planets and star systems. According to that legend, a small group of warriors, each with distinct gifts, de-stroyed the weapon. They split it into six pieces and hid them. It is believed that they are some-where within the 12 sectors. The guardians warned that such a power could be wielded again so they left a prophecy, if you will, to be used when the time came."

"And you think it refers to us?" asked Brie.

"Your planet is in the 13th sector, untouched, ignored, and thought primitive. It fit the legend. And according to my calculations, Klanor doesn't know of your world, so your being here would be an element of surprise. And you each fit the qualities. The philosopher, the warrior, the lover, and the inventor."

"Lover?" questioned Brie. "I'm no lover."

"The translation may not be entirely correct," said Solaris. "Love has many different forms and meanings."

Brie frowned, still not liking the idea of being called "the lover".

"The crystals"--Solaris turned on the holoscreen to show what she talked about--"are all data crystals. Each one serves a purpose, or can be made for a specific purpose. The one on Lanyr was discovered almost 1,500 years ago. Once the Lanyrans learned that it was really a data crystal and developed the technology to access it, they created an entire computer system that would utilize the crystal's stored data and maintain stability of the magnetic field. It was because of this that the planet was not destroyed the moment the fields became unstable.

"Since then, we have used this technology to stabilize other planets and control their climate and atmospheres, and even protect them from solar flares or radiation. Your planet is the only one I know of where it naturally regulates all of those. However, there are many crystals, and not all are the ones we are looking for."

"How did this Klanor know the difference?" asked Alfric.

"The crystals we are looking for have a specific encoding," answered Solaris.

Alfric's face scrunched up in confusion.

"Think of it as a symbol, or mark, etched on the crystal itself," said Rynah. "Klanor must have learned about it somehow. Though I never dreamed..."

Rynah cut herself off, choking back the tears that formed in the back of her throat. Now wasn't the time to get into personal relationships.

"What is that symbol?" asked Alfric, referring to an insignia on the screen.

"That," said Rynah, "is the mark of the Lunyra Movement. They believe that the use of the crys-tal to keep the magnetic fields aligned was a violation against the laws of the universe."

"But he is not part of the Lunyra Movement," said Solaris.

"What do you mean?" asked Rynah.

Solaris zoomed in on the man's neck, searching for a distinct mark of two crescent moons with their backs touching. "There is no tattoo. Every member of the Lunyra Movement have the same insignia tattooed on their neck. They would not have worn an armband."

"So then this Klanor was trying to frame them," said Tom.

"The mind of a warrior," said Alfric, with a note of admiration; he always respected his foes, something that allowed him to be victorious in every battle. "Deception and misdirection can be useful allies."

"Why don't you enlist the help of your own people?" asked Solon. "Surely, not all of them agree with this Klanor."

"Solaris and I are alone and the only known survivors of my planet. We have no way of know-ing how many people Klanor has on his side, nor how many escaped the devastation wrought on Lanyr. I need help to stop him. Yours is the only one I can count on."

"Do it for your own planet," said Solaris.

"What?" asked Tom.

"Once Klanor has seized control of this part of space, he will go to the Terra Sector, your Earth, and destroy it as well. If he succeeds in building this weapon, no system will be safe, including yours."

"So what you are saying is," said Brie, "you need the help of a bunch of vermin to save your world and, in doing so, we might save ours."

"Yes," answered Solaris. "Though I do not consider you vermin. Despite the few setbacks you have suffered in your vast history, your race is remarkably resilient and advanced. It's your resolve that will save us, not your technology."

"How do we find these crystals?" demanded Alfric. For one where talk of space travel was a foreign and unthinkable concept, he had followed the conversation with little difficulty.

"That is the problem," said Rynah, "We have no idea where they all are. All we have are stories and legends."

"Then you have a map," said Alfric.

"What?"

"Your legends will tell you where they are," said Alfric. "Let them guide you."

Tom snorted at such an outlandish statement.

"Ridicule is unnecessary," said Solon.

"What are the first lines of your legend?" asked Alfric.

Solaris recited them.

Gather now and listen well

To this tale that I must tell.

Of magic crystals young and old

A lost crystal too deadly to behold.

The beginning is always the best.

Do not sneer, laugh, or jest.

Think of where it's been.

Think of where it was last seen.

"But my files are incomplete when it comes to the ancient tales," said Solaris when she finished.

"It is enough," said Alfric. "It has told you where to start in your search. I am certain that your legends will guide you in this venture like a map."

"We should start where the poem says, at the beginning," said Solon. "Whenever you are lost, start at the beginning."

"I can set a course for Lanyr," said Solaris. "We should be there by morning."

"You are for this?" Brie asked Solon.

"It is obvious that none of us will be allowed to return home until we give them what they want," answered Solon, "and if this Klanor wants to destroy my home, I would prefer to see his demise first."

"A wise plan," said Alfric. "You have the makings of a great warrior."

"My father did not think so," answered Solon.

"Then we are in agreement?" asked Rynah.

"For honor and glory," said Alfric, raising his sword. If assisting Rynah meant protecting his people, then he would do as she asked. "But if you betray me, nothing will save you from my blade."

Rynah's face remained impassive.

"Are you kidding?" said Tom, "I'd jump at a chance to explore a new world. Of course I'm in."

"Yes," answered Solon.

All eyes turned to Brie. She still had misgivings about the entire affair and wished to return home. Confrontation was not in her DNA, and she didn't like the idea of being used, but she knew she could not leave. "Sure," she mumbled.

"Then it is settled," said Rynah. "I will show you each to your quarters where you may rest."

### Chapter 8

At the Beginning

The shuttle craft bounced and rocked as it entered the atmosphere of Lanyr. Rynah's adroit skills showed as she handled the controls, keeping the craft as steady as she could. She glanced back at her passengers. Alfric remained calm, as the display of fear was not in his nature. She figured he was a man who never openly displayed fear. Both Solon and Brie looked apprehensive. Brie's face bulged from the urge to scream. Of all the people to pick, why did Solaris choose the girl? Brie's lack of courage annoyed Rynah. Her violet eyes flicked over to Tom. Though not liking the turbulence, Tom was intrigued by the construction and mechanisms of the sleek shuttle.

The charred lavender clouds cleared and the turbulence ceased as Rynah dropped into the lower atmosphere. She made out the damaged structures and city below. Smoke still rose from smoldering ruins. Finding a clearing, Rynah steered the shuttle for it, hoping that the ground was stable and not deceiving her. She pulled back on the throttle, released the landing gear, and lowered the craft until a soft thud told her she had touched the ground. She opened the hatch.

"We're here."

The others unbuckled their seatbelts and stood up. Brie wobbled a bit from motion sickness. "Are you sure this is safe?" she asked. "You said yourself that your planet was suffering from severe earthquakes."

"Safe enough for our purposes," replied Rynah with impatience. "Solaris has stabilized the magnetic fields for now, but cannot hold it indefinitely. We have an hour, and we must make good use of it."

She walked over to a panel, pressed a button, and a door slid open.

"Here," she said, tossing each of them a laser pistol, "you might need these."

Alfric took his and turned it over in his calloused hands. "I have my sword."

"Just keep it in case," said Rynah.

"What amazing construction," muttered Tom as he examined the pistol enthralled by the tech-nology behind it.

Solon remained silent, while Brie added, "I'm not sure about how to use this."

"Then you'll have to learn," said Rynah as she jumped down the steps and to the scarred terrain before her.

Unsure of what to do, Brie and the others tied the pistols around their waists. Alfric leapt out of the shuttle and strode proudly, while the others took their time. Poor Brie--her timidity forced her to cling to the handle in the open hatch (while horrid thoughts of untold dangers filled her mind) as she delicately put her foot on the charred grass that had once been a royal purple. She trailed behind the others, looking around at the smoldering fires and remains of ships that had failed to escape the fury of the planet. Brie glanced up at the blackened sky with tinges of purple in it and wisps of clouds that seemed to weep at the destruction that had been wrought.

"Brie, keep up!" yelled Rynah.

Brie hurried after the others. The silence unnerved her. No bugs hummed, nor did any birds chirp. Even the wind refused to make a sound. Only death remained. A few bodies lay in the black-ened grass. Sadness engulfed Brie as she looked at them and their vacant expressions. The horrors they must have seen. She was reminded of the stories her father had told her mother when he had come home for Christmas one year. She wasn't supposed to hear, but Brie was unable to sleep and listened in the doorway to her parents' bedroom. Soon after that, her father had been redeployed back to Afghanistan and died in a bomb blast. The remains of the planet Lanyr brought all of those memories back in a flood that her emotions refused to handle.

"I never asked to be here," she whispered to herself.

Not wanting to get yelled at again, Brie ran to catch up with the others. No one spoke as they all trailed behind Rynah, who led them to the underground lab, choosing to go in the back way so as to avoid the elevator. They soon entered the city; its collapsed buildings (most of the structures re-duced to shells of what they had been, with crumbled brick and stone forming a skirt around them) and uneven pavement that resembled cliffs more than roadways. Brie studied the rubble, exposed pipes, and metal bars that swayed in the wind, only being held by a few screws, waiting to fall. Wa-ter spouted from a pipe protruding from the blistered ground, sending a spray of sewage.

"The entrance to the lab is here," said Rynah, pointing at an exposed steel door, now blackened from the tiny flames the still burned around it, which had once been concealed by an enclosed building, but only the foundation of it remained. She typed a code in the keypad. Nothing happened. Looking closer, Rynah noticed that the circuitry had been severed, meaning that she would have to manually force it open. She wedged her shoulder against the door and pushed. Nothing. Rynah tried again, straining against the effort of opening a door 20 times her weight.

Alfric placed his hand on her shoulder and pushed her aside. His massive size demanded obedi-ence. He grasped the edges of the door and shoved; his sinewy muscles flexing in the bits of sun-light. A grinding noise filled the area as the metal door opened. Once a wide enough gap had been made, Alfric stepped aside and motioned for Rynah to continue.

"Thanks," she said as she stepped into the inky darkness of the doorway.

She pulled a glow light from her belt and clicked it on, holding the yellow light before her. Rynah found the stairwell (which circled in an angular spiral around the elevator shaft, primarily used by the maintenance staff or for emergencies) and headed straight for it.

"Watch your step," she warned the others.

Her boots clicked against the metal stairs as she descended, gauging each step and testing it be-fore putting her weight on it.

Rynah placed her foot on the next step. Clang! It fell away, crashing and banging into the others as it disappeared. Shining her glow light on it, she peered into the dismal darkness below as more eerie sounds echoed in the distance; particles of dust swirled in the beam. Uneasiness filled the pit of Rynah's stomach as the realization that their being there was a bad idea dawned on her. Unwill-ing to turn back, she jumped to the next step, avoiding the newly formed gap, and clung to the cool (a sensation that surprised her) railing as she regained her balance. The others copied her movements. Rynah went to the next step, testing it before stepping on it. Onward this went; the stairs moaned under the weight of those who dared to enter their domain.

Rynah stopped. The stairs had ended, but they hadn't reached the basement floor. Dismayed, she glared at the dark hole that loomed before her, refusing to show weakness in front of the others. Rynah waved the glow light around, trying to illuminate the bottom, but found nothing, leaving her with only one option.

"We'll have to risk it," she said.

"That's suicide," protested Brie. "You have no idea how far down that goes."

"I'm not turning back," said Rynah.

"Perhaps we could use the rope Tom brought," suggested Solon. "Brie is the lightest. We can tie it to her and..."

Solon never got a chance to finish his statement, for at that moment, Rynah jumped. Her feet plopped on the cement floor as she buckled her knees to absorb the impact of her landing. She rose to her full height, holding the glow stick above her and allowing the yellow light to illuminate the surrounding area. As it turned out, she had only jumped 10 feet.

"Come on," she shouted to the others. "It isn't far."

Alfric landed beside Rynah, not even bothering to check and make certain he had not injured himself. Next came Tom. Brie stood on the edge, doubting her ability to survive. A smooth hand enveloped hers. Glancing over, she stared right into the reassuring eyes of Solon.

"Sometimes you must risk it all and leap," he said.

Brie remained where she was.

"It's okay. I'll jump with you. Together, one... two... three!"

They both leapt off the metal edge and dropped. Air burst from Brie's lungs as she crashed onto the ground and rolled. Her knee throbbed. She touched the welt that had formed there, but, though tender, it wasn't too bad.

Without warning, a hand grabbed hers and hauled her to her feet. Alfric turned her around and checked for injuries, but released her when he found nothing life threatening.

"You are undamaged," he said.

"My knee hurts," whined Brie.

"It is merely a scratch. But rejoice in it, for now you can regale those back home about your in-jury and the adventure that gave it to you." He clapped Brie on the shoulder, nearly knocking her over.

Not sure if she liked the Viking, Brie meandered over to Solon, who had landed about as suc-cessfully as she had. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," answered Solon. "What is life without a few bruises to toughen our character?"

She helped Solon to his feet, wishing this was all just a dream, and followed the others.

A giant, periwinkle, oval shaped door with no handles of any kind towered over them in the darkness. Rynah waved her hand before the door. A holographic pad flashed to life, appearing on the righthand side, awaiting a command. She typed in a series of numbers. Hissing and pressurized air escaped the door as its locks snapped out of place, and the door dematerialized, allowing them entrance.

"Be careful," warned Rynah. "The ground in here may not be entirely stable."

As though to add emphasis to her words, the ground shifted; a low rumbling reverberated be-neath their feet before dissipating.

"Not entirely stable," muttered Tom. "That's an understatement."

Rynah gave him a piercing stare before strolling through the open doorway into a dimly lit inte-rior; only a few lights remained lighted. Loose and exposed wires dangled precariously from the ceiling, sending sparks like searing rain upon any below them and illuminating broken glass, over-turned chairs, and toppled desks that littered the entire lab, all covered in shredded sheets of paper. What had once been a pristine and clean environment now resembled little more than an alleyway in a slum.

"Here," said Rynah, handing Solon a flashlight that she snatched from a cubby in the wall.

"What do I do with it?" asked Solon, studying it.

Annoyed, Rynah flicked it on and pointed it across the room. "Use it to light your way." She trampled down some metal stairs to the lower floor.

Solon waved the flashlight around, intrigued by its ability to give illumination without using an open flame. He flicked it on and off repeatedly.

"Want to see something cool?" asked Tom.

"Cool?" said Solon. "I would say it is a bit warm in here."

"Just hold it like this." Tom placed the flashlight in Solon's hand, demonstrating how he should hold it as he made shadow puppets, accompanying his play with noises and differing voices.

"I'm going to get you my pretty--No! Don't eat me!--It's too late. Nom. Nom. Nom."

Solon and Brie laughed at Tom's antics. Even Alfric cracked a smile, something that didn't quite fit his gruff and overbearing demeanor.

The playfulness caught Rynah's attention. She turned away from the flyers hanging on the far wall near where the crystal had been and glared at Tom. "What are you doing?"

"Shadow puppets," said Tom, with a sheepish grin.

"Shadow puppets?" Rynah released an exasperated sigh. "You are here to assist me. We are supposed to be looking for clues as to where Klanor has headed and you're playing children's games? Get to work!" She turned back to the papers hanging from the wall.

Tom took one last glance at everyone, shrugged his shoulders, and wandered to another part of the room. Something cracked underneath his shoe as his heavy foot stepped upon a cracked holo-pad, which reminded him of the computer tablets that he and his friends used each day, just thinner and more advanced. He picked it up.

Brie wandered over. "An iPad?" she said, taking the holopad.

"Not quite, but similar I imagine," said Tom. "Hey, that's right. You guys are still using the iPad. What a piece of antiquated technology. Wait until the Seismo 4000 hits the shelves. Now that has lightning speed data transfers and unlimited storage."

"Seismo 4000?"

"Uh, maybe I shouldn't have said anything."

"No, don't worry about it," said Brie. "I'm sure that the stuff of 2014 seems like the dark ages to you."

"I didn't mean--"

"Don't worry about it. I'm going to wander over there."

Tom scolded himself for being so stupid and insulting what was considered the most advanced technology of Brie's day. "Great way to make friends," he whispered to himself.

Crash!

Everyone whirled around in the direction of the sound as a single sheet of metal clattered to the concrete floor, sending deafening echoes through what had been a silent tomb. Something moved. Tensing, the five companions inched their way closer. Rynah waved her hand, signaling them to be silent. More movement. Unexpectedly, Alfric reached into the darkened hole and yanked out one of the lab assistants. His tattered lab coat, stained with black smudges, fluttered around him as he sailed through the air in the Viking's arms.

"Who are you?" demanded Alfric, pinning the frightened man to a desk.

"Please! Please, don't hurt me!" yelled the man.

"Gaden?" said Rynah. "What are you doing here?"

"Hiding," replied Gaden, his purple face going ashen.

"Hiding. Everyone here was killed. How could you have possibly survived?"

"How did you?" demanded Gaden.

"Answer her question or I'll rip out your treacherous heart," said Alfric, raising his knife.

"Treacherous? I betrayed no one!" screamed Gaden.

"Then why are you here?" asked Rynah.

"When Klanor escaped with the crystal, I hid in the hole there," said Gaden. "I've never left."

"You've been here for the last several days?" Rynah's voice held doubt.

"Yes."

"No food or water?"

Gaden reached into his pockets and pulled out silver packets. Rynah snatched them.

"Emergency rations."

"Why are you here, Rynah? And who are these... people?" Gaden eyed the others, twirling his handlebar mustache with curiosity, having never seen humans before.

"They are here to help," said Rynah.

"Yes, but where are they from?"

Brie started to open her mouth, but Rynah cut her off. "Not your concern. Where are the ancient texts?"

"I don't know what you--"

"Where are they?" demanded Rynah.

Alfric's grip tightened.

"Okay! Okay! I don't know where they are. Look at this place! You'll never find anything here."

Rynah's cold expression bore through him.

"They might be over there."

Rynah marched to where Gaden pointed, shuffling through debris until she found four data crystals resembling thin disks.

"Those are the ancient texts?" asked Brie.

"Yes," said Rynah, "everything is on these disks." She put a thin, octagonal-shaped disk, made from a clear quartz material, in the main computer. Despite the bits of insulation that coated it, the computer hummed as it read the disk, still able to draw power. The disk was empty. Rynah put in another. Only logs of the scientists came up. Frustrated, she stuck in the third disk to find that it had data recordings.

"Come on," she said through gritted teeth as she shoved the fourth and final disk in. "Got it!"

On a wall-sized holographic screen, words appeared in a language that only Rynah understood. She scrolled through them.

"There," she said, pointing at a line of text. "It speaks about a crystal with immense power. 'When two suns meet, so shall the power of the gods.'"

"What does that mean?" asked Tom.

"It could be talking about a binary system. The Jungler Sector has two suns. Maybe that is what it means."

"What is all this?" demanded Gaden. "Are you seriously referring to that ancient legend of the crystals?" He looked at the four humans. "You are! You and Klanor are both insane! When he asked me about that text..." Gaden cut himself off.

"What?" asked Rynah.

"Nothing," said Gaden.

"What do you mean Klanor asked you?" Rynah's face darkened.

"He said it was for research," Gaden evaded the question. "I never thought he would actually steal the crystal from the lab."

"You helped him steal it?"

"No, I... it's not like I had a choice! You don't know what he's capable of."

"Because of you, our planet is dead!" Deep down, Rynah knew that wasn't entirely true.

"I didn't think any of this would happen."

"A lot of people died because of you!"

"And how many more will die if you go through with this foolish mission of yours? Do you think you're the only one who knows the story? I know who these people are. They come from the Terran Sector, don't they? You're going to save our world with them?" Gaden laughed.

"You gutless..." Alfric reached for Gaden, but he flung dust into the man's eyes. Before Alfric or the others could grab him, Gaden had disappeared through another hole in the wall.

"I'm going to kill him," said Rynah as she started to pursue him.

"No!" Solon's stern voice stopped her. Everyone turned toward him. "His life is not worth it."

"Not worth it?" said Rynah.

"Sometimes the enemy of today is tomorrow's friend," said Solon.

Rynah considered the matter and let it go. She snatched the data crystal from the computer. "Let's go."

Just then, a low rumble echoed beneath their feet as the ground vibrated. With each passing sec-ond, the sound grew in volume until it overwhelmed them, and splits and cracks appeared in the concrete floor as a portion of it gave away.

"Run!" yelled Rynah.

The floor fell beneath their feet as a giant machine, with a drill on its end, emerged from the darkness below. The ear splitting sounds attacked their nerves with each movement. Brie stood fro-zen before it. Unable to move, she watched, helpless, as the machine came closer.

"Brie!" yelled Tom.

She remained frozen; fear clutched her in a viselike grip, refusing to release her. Strong hands seized her shoulders, thrusting her out of the way. Brie looked up to find Alfric covering her as the machine whirred past, sending rocks, blocks of wood, and ceiling panels everywhere. Without a word, the Viking lifted her to her feet and shoved her to the doorway.

"What is that thing?" yelled Tom.

"A geo pod," replied Rynah. "It's used to collect data from the center of the planet."

An industrial light crashed onto the floor next to them, forcing them to jump out of the way.

"Get up those stairs now!" yelled Rynah.

Alfric snatched Brie, who still allowed fear to control her, and carried her to the giant, steel door and the stairs beyond.

Rynah raced for the doorway. The machine noticed her movements and whirled at her, sending a claw out and smashing the floor before her. She dodged out of the way and veered around the mon-strosity.

"Where are you going?"

Rynah stopped. She knew that voice. Turning, she looked into the camera on the machine, which was remotely controlled, and stared at the person on the other end.

"Klanor," she spat.

"Did you really think I would leave this place?"

Rynah said nothing.

"I knew you would come back here, so I left this little surprise for you. That useless Gaden did his job well."

Rynah clenched her fist. She knew that weasel wasn't there by chance. "Why?"

"I told you, I want control," Klanor's voice boomed throughout the chamber.

"So you base your conquest on an ancient text?"

"You are using it, are you not? You will find, Rynah, that many of the ancient stories are based on some sort of fact. These crystals contain an incredible amount of data. You, yourself, witnessed how the crystal here kept the magnetic fields of the planet aligned. Is it really that farfetched to be-lieve that they could create a weapon of immense power?"

Rynah unhooked her weapon.

"I will give you one last chance to abandon this foolish mission of yours," said Klanor.

"And let you take control of the Twelve Sectors?"

"You could join me. I still remember our nights together."

Vomit crept into Rynah's throat as she thought about the times she had spent with Klanor.

"It would be wise of you to join me," said Klanor. "You might want to consider what the cost will be in refusing my offer."

Rynah wrapped her fingers around her laser gun. Her eyes searched for the one weak spot in the geo pod.

"I am awaiting your answer."

She spotted it. With fluid movements, Rynah raised her weapon and aimed. "Consider this." She fired two blasts at the hydraulics that connected the arms of the pod with the controls; hydraulic fluid sprayed everywhere as the pod flailed about uncontrollably. Rynah ran. She sprinted for the open door as the earth continued to shake beneath her feet.

"Come on!" yelled Tom, holding his hand out to her.

Rynah leapt through the doorway before the ceiling crashed behind her. "Thanks," she said to Tom.

They raced up the metal stairs that reeled beneath their weight, Rynah in the lead and urging them onward. Brie had to be carried by Alfric until they reached the outside and he put her down, her screams drowning the chaos around them. Once they broke out into the daylight, Rynah mo-tioned for them to head for the shuttle.

They ran across the rotting grass (that had once been a rich emerald with a faded purple tint to it), their feet beating against the ground in their haste. Grumbles resonated beneath them as soft mounds of dirt expanded upwards, forming small hills, and flung sharp rocks into the air that smashed into the dirt beside them, sending gravel flying at them like missiles. Brie shrieked as one hurled towards her. Alfric sprang upon her, snatching her and yanking her out of the way. In her panicked state, she tried to break free of him, beating his chest; her frantic screams hurt his ears, but the Viking just heaved her across his shoulders like a bag of grain and carried her back to the shuttle.

"Hurry!" yelled Rynah, standing in the doorway of the shuttle craft. One by one, the five unlike-ly companions filed in, taking their seats. Rynah pushed the button to close the shuttle door, ran to the pilot seat, increasing the power of the engines, and pulled back on the throttle.

A red, blinking light informed her that she had failed to initiate the startup procedure. "Oh, shut up," she muttered to the annoying red light.

Another light blinked at her; its aggravating alarm blared, scolding her. Checking the status of it, Rynah realized that the landing gear had jammed. If she didn't get it up, she would never be able to leave the planet's atmosphere. She cursed.

"Do you need any help?" asked Tom, entering the flight deck.

"Just go back to your seat," snapped Rynah.

"I can help," Tom insisted.

Rynah stared at Tom's sincere expression and realized that, for once, she had to trust someone else. "The landing gear is jammed," she said as the craft jolted to the left. "I need you to go through this access point, reach down, and pull the emergency lever. It's red."

Tom looked at the hatch Rynah pointed at. He snapped the latch and lifted it up. Realizing that he would not fit in the tiny space, he got down on his stomach and leaned in until he hung upside down.

"Do you see it?" asked Rynah.

Tom's eyes roved around the area as his head pounded from the blood rushing to it. There! He reached out for the red lever and pulled. Nothing.

"Oh, why does it always have to be stuck," he muttered to himself in frustration.

"Pull it now!"

Tom grasped it with both hands, hoping that he wouldn't tumble in. With a tremendous yank, the lever pulled free and the landing gear snapped into place with a low hum.

"Got it," he said as he crawled out of the small hatch and placed the cover back over the open-ing.

Rynah pulled back even more on the throttle and steered the small shuttle craft into the edges of space. Solaris stood ready to receive them with the doors to the shuttle bay open.

"Solaris, we're coming in hot!"

"Understood," came the ship's reply.

Rynah strained against the shuttle's desire to veer to the left and the gravitational pull of the planet as she headed for the safety of Solaris' shuttle bay. An ear piercing screech railed against their ears as they crashed into the shuttle bay. Rynah shut off the engines.

"Everyone okay?" she asked.

Amidst the few groans, she ascertained that no injuries had been accrued. Rynah opened the shuttle doors. "Solaris, get us out of here!" she yelled as she dashed for the command deck of the ship. The others followed behind her, Alfric still holding onto the frightened Brie.

They reached the command center just as another ship dropped out of hyperspeed next to them. A beep sounded as a holographic form of Klanor appeared.

"Rynah, really. Can't we be reasonable? There is no point in you being beaten again."

Rynah ignored him as she punched keys on the console.

"It's not too late for you to join me," continued Klanor. "I am a reasonable man. Your friends can come as well."

Rynah continued to punch buttons.

"Rynah," said Klanor, "you should consider my advice."

Rynah looked up. She stared into Klanor's eyes with venomous hatred. "Consider this my an-swer."

She pressed a button and an ion torpedo headed straight for Klanor's ship. "Solaris, now!"

The ship pitched as it jumped into hyperspeed and disappeared, leaving Klanor to pother in his anger as fire erupted from his spacecraft.

### Chapter 9

Voice from the Past

Solon ambled along in a secluded part of the ship, studying all of the lights and mechanisms with wonderment. He wished he knew what they did. Solemnness struck him as he wondered how his father and mother fared. Did they miss him? Did they even know he was gone? While his brother fought in the king's war, he had been sent to the library to be a scribe.

"Your face is always in those scrolls," his father had commented once.

Solon couldn't help it. He was not muscular like his father or brother. Preferring the written word instead, he believed that more could be learned from it than on the field of battle. His finger brushed something. A series of beeps and squeaks escaped it, causing Solon to jump back.

"You know, you should really be careful about what you touch," said Solaris, her voice filling the empty area.

Solon shrank back. He remained uncertain if he should trust the voice with no face.

"I don't bite," said Solaris.

"Are you a god?" asked Solon.

"I don't believe so."

"Yet, you have no physical form."

"I am the ship."

That statement confused Solon as he tried to comprehend what Solaris meant.

Solaris tried again. "I am as real as you are. As real as the clothing you wear. But, no, I do not have a physical form in the sense that you think of it."

"Then how is it you are able to speak?" asked Solon, his thirst for knowledge overriding his fear.

"I just do," said Solaris.

Solon frowned. He glanced around the room and all of its tiny lights, wondering what they meant.

"You like books, don't you?" asked Solaris.

"Books?"

"Scrolls. Knowledge. You like to study."

"Yes," replied Solon.

"Then allow me to bring the library to you."

The room brightened as shelves with rows upon rows of volumes in splendid and colorful bind-ing appeared, surrounding Solon. The young scholar circled them, staring at the stark transformation with unbelieving eyes. He touched a burgundy colored book with gold writing. It's cool, leather binding surprised Solon.

"These are real!"

"As real as you wish to make it," said Solaris.

"How--"

"My databanks contain over 100,000 books of any genre on any subject. And considering you are not yet familiar with the computer systems on this ship, I thought I would show my library to you in a way you could more easily search through them."

Solon snatched an emerald bound book off the shelf. As he opened it, the crinkling of the starched pages beckoned him to enter another world.

"Herclai? Who is Herclai? And are not these written in your own tongue?"

"They are indeed written in the Lanyran language, but I have translated them for you, so that you can read them."

"And Herclai?"

"A hero, according to the ancient tales of Lanyr. Supposedly, he existed thousands of years ago. He was brave. A soldier, if you will, battling demons and monsters of his time. Though his temper needed a little work."

"Sounds a lot like Hercules," said Solon.

"Hercules?"

"Son of Zeus. Half god, half human. He has the strength of the gods and none can defeat him. According to my father, he defeated the hydra, but he was quick to anger, so Zeus punished him."

"Interesting," mused Solaris, as she stored the information in her data core. "You enjoy the tales of your people?"

"They are entertaining, though I wonder about their veracity," said Solon. "Books and stories provide wonderful knowledge and lessons, but I must agree with my father that experience garners wisdom."

"A wise saying." Thoughts formed in Solaris' circuits as she processed what Solon had told her. The similarities between the two stories of Hercules and Herclai astounded her. "Perhaps you will allow me to make a suggestion."

"Indeed, I will."

The light faded in the room, focusing on a single volume the size of Solon's torso. "This you might find particularly interesting."

Solon heaved the giant book off the wooden shelf, remarking at its light weight. "It weighs practically nothing."

"One of the advantages to using my databanks instead of a typical library.

Solon scanned the title. "The heroes of Lanyr."

"I think you will like it," said Solaris. "You may come here anytime you wish to read. I will have this book waiting for you and any others you prefer."

"I'm not sure what to say."

"Thank you, is usually customary."

Solon chuckled at the sarcasm. "I do thank you, Solaris." He sat cross-legged on the floor with the book before him, delving deep within its contents.

"I will leave you to your reading."

Solon never noticed that Solaris had stopped speaking as his mind focused only on the words before him.

* * *

Rynah sat alone in the command deck at the flight console. She desired solitude. The day had not gone as planned, and the fact that Klanor had set a trap disturbed her. Why would he do that? How had he known she would return?

She flicked on the holoscreen and scrolled through the saved files. There are so many. She won-dered how old the ship was and how often her grandfather had used it to store his work. One file in particular caught her attention. It had her name.

She opened it.

"Rynah," came her grandfather's voice from the speakers as a holographic image of him ap-peared beside her, "I cannot tell you how saddened I am that you opened this. I can only assume that what I, and others, have feared most has happened: someone stole the crystal. If you are listen-ing to this, then it means that our planet has been ravaged and someone has discovered the secrets of the six crystals. It also means that I am no longer there to do what I am afraid is now your task.

"As you know, our planet's magnetic fields are stabilized due to a crystal created by Benson Ranoe, but the truth of the matter is that he never created it. He discovered it.

"While traveling through a still unknown part of space, Ranoe stumbled upon a civilization that had a unique crystal. This crystal was in their temple, and they worshipped before it daily. The peo-ple were not as technologically advanced as us, and when Ranoe appeared in his shuttle craft, they assumed he was one of their gods. As he listened to their mythology about the crystal, he realized that it matched our ancient myths.

"After a series of tests, Ranoe concluded that this crystal was more than just a data core. Know-ing he could use this to stabilize our planet as the magnetic fields had begun to destabilize, he stole it--a crime for which there is no forgiveness, for when he took it, that civilization crumbled.

"Ranoe brought the crystal back, claiming that he had discovered a way to save our home, and that he had created the data core. None questioned him because they had no reason not to believe him. As you know, for 1,500 years, we have used that crystal unaware of its true nature.

"Our people are now reaping the reward for his dishonesty. In my travels and research, I learned that there are five others, each just as unique as the one we possessed. When joined together, they become the heart of a weapon so powerful that it can destroy entire solar systems. I say the heart of a weapon, because according to my research, they are the data cores--if you want to call it that--of a ship that is in fact a weapon.

"Unfortunately, I have been unable to discover where the weapon and the other crystals are. My illness, I'm afraid, is winning the battle. I had hoped that no other would discover the secrets I have learned. I am sorry, Rynah.

"I left you Solaris. You, and you alone, can pilot her, unless you relinquish that control to anoth-er. She is a good friend and will serve you well. Study the ancient myths. Please, do not scoff at such a notion..."

Rynah stopped her inward chuckle at her grandfather's scolding.

"They are more real than you realize. I wish I could be there to help you so that you do not have to do it alone, but what was once my task is now yours. Good luck, my darling, and know that I will always love you."

The hologram disappeared as the message ended. A single tear rolled down Rynah's cheek as her grandfather left her once again.

"You have a moment?" asked Tom as he poked his head in.

"I thought you were asleep." Rynah clicked off the holoscreen and wiped the tear from her face.

"The others are, but I couldn't sleep."

"What can I do for you?"

"You can explain to me why we are all here," said Tom. "The bit you told us when we arrived made sense at the time, but some things don't add up."

"Such as?"

"The importance of the crystals."

Rynah released a heavy sigh. "They are data crystals, as I've informed you. A single sliver of quartz can hold about--oh, what's a term you use--100 gigabytes of memory. Now imagine how much memory a crystal the size of your hand can hold.

"Because they hold so much data, the crystal itself becomes a computer, of sorts, that can do un-imaginable tasks."

"Such as control the magnetic fields of a planet," added Tom.

"Yes. My planet has an unstable magnetic field, making it practically uninhabitable. One man discovered how to use the amount of memory a quartz data crystal could hold to stabilize it, thus stopping all of the earthquakes and storms that plagued us. It is difficult to explain all of the engi-neering behind it, but suffice it to say that all he had to do was construct a computer to hold it, punch in a code, and it worked."

"But what makes this crystal so different from other crystals?"

"It is where he got it from. This crystal is different from what is normally used. It is of a higher quality with elements that we have yet to identify. And it is not the only one."

"How do you know?"

"Because the man who found it said that there were five others just like it, except no one knew of their locations."

"Hence, your legend of the six crystals," said Tom.

"Yes," breathed Rynah. "It is an old legend, and most of my people consider it nothing more than children's tales, but when Klanor stole this crystal, I began to wonder. But one thing I know for certain: I need it back to save my planet, and if he joins it with the others, I can only imagine what devastation he will inflict."

"Klanor," started Tom, "there is more between you and him that you have not told us."

Rynah's face pinched slightly as she controlled her anger. She watched as Tom's eyes, followed by his hand, moved toward the computer console ready to act on another bout of abject curiosity. "Would you like to pilot the ship?" she asked, changing the subject and distracting Tom from his inquisitiveness.

"Uh..."

"I'm sure Solaris won't mind and I can't always be in here."

"Oh sure, don't bother to ask me," quipped Solaris, with sarcasm.

"Sure," said Tom, allowing Rynah to steer him away from the relationship between her and Klanor as the thrill of flying a ship overtook him.

"Most times she can pilot herself, but sometimes she needs the help of one of us. Here, put this on." Rynah handed Tom the helmet used when piloting the ship. "It is a neuro interface and allows you to speak telepathically to Solaris."

"You act as though the ship is alive and has feelings," said Tom, taking the helmet. Bleeps and squeaks abounded as Solaris fumed over his comment.

"She can be a bit sensitive," said Rynah.

With caution, Tom slipped the interface helmet over his head. "Now what do I do?"

"Give her a command."

A series of thoughts flew through Tom's mind. The ship lurched and halted, throwing Rynah forward. "Oops."

"That would be my brakes, you ignoramus," snapped Solaris, "and it was quite uncomfortable."

"You must control your thoughts," instructed Rynah, moving a strand of her emerald hair from her face. "The slightest thought becomes a command."

"Where are we headed?" asked Tom.

Rynah gave a series of coordinates and Tom just thought about them. Soon the ship sped off through space in the new heading he had given it.

"That was better," said Solaris, "but I still do not like being piloted by strangers."

"Solaris, be nice," said Rynah.

"Hmmph," came the ship's reply.

"I think I'm getting the hang of it," said Tom.

"It's fairly easy," said Rynah. "Just keep going in this direction. I'm going to get some sleep. If anything arises, just press this button to talk to me in my quarters, and nothing else. Night."

"Night," mumbled Tom as he tried to keep control of his thoughts.

"Well, kiddo, I guess it's just you and me," said Solaris.

Tom remained silent, unsure of how to answer.

"Do you like chess?"

"Uh, sure."

### Chapter 10

Hungry, Hungry Plants

"We are approaching the Junglar Sector now," said Solaris, as they dropped out of hyperspeed.

"Acknowledged," said Rynah.

The others stood in the command center, watching the giant screen before them as they entered an unfamiliar solar system.

"Why is this sun green?" asked Brie.

"A star can be any color," replied Solaris. "The gaseous makeup of this particular star has turned it green. Some say that it is the reason for the abundant plant life."

"Oh." Brie stepped back until Alfric's giant form hid her.

"Take us into the planet's atmosphere," said Rynah.

"Very well," Solaris said, as she headed for a greenish-blue planet that was fifth from the sun.

"Hang on," said Rynah. "Entering a planet's atmosphere can get a little bumpy."

The turbulence jostled the ship as though it were a mere child's toy, knocking them off their feet.

"A little bumpy!" exclaimed Tom.

Rynah steered the ship to a small clearing. "Solaris, I want you to run continuous scans of the surrounding area. We should return in two hours."

"And if you don't?" asked Solaris.

Rynah didn't answer.

The five companions left the ship through Solaris' rear hatch, which opened onto a gangplank, and entered a world none of them had ever seen, one that even awed Rynah. Gigantic plants, the height of houses, with stems that were various shades of sea green and ecru, oval leaves of deep green on each side, which provided a sense of symmetry, heads that resembled unshelled almonds with petals of sanguine, plum, ruby, and sable, with specks of bronze upon them, loomed over the landscape, dwarfing the five newcomers. They stared at the plants, mesmerized.

"Let's move," said Rynah as she stomped across the ground.

The others followed.

Sweat streamed down their backs, causing their clothes to cling to their skin as the humidity, which created a vaporous layer above them that refracted the sunlight, sapped their energy. What had started as a brisk trek through a jungle soon became one of exhaustion. Their sluggish feet stepped into the soft, moist earth that acted more like a claw, reaching out for them, clinging to them, and preventing their movements.

Tom jerked his head around. He had the distinct feeling of being watched, a feeling he could not shake. A slight swish prickled his ears. He turned his head again and scanned the landscape, but everything was calm, too calm. A small part of his brain urged him to run.

"You feel it too?" asked Brie.

"Feel what?"

"Like we shouldn't be here."

Tom surveyed the area again and silently agreed with Brie that they needed to leave.

"Keep up, you two," snapped Rynah.

"I swear all she ever does is give orders," mumbled Brie.

Smiling, Tom agreed. She is bossy. He joined Brie and trailed after the others, forcing his mind to forget the small warning bells it sent him. Plants can't watch you. Something brushed his back. This time, Tom swung around, raising his hands in a protective stance.

"What's wrong?" asked Brie.

"Something touched me," said Tom.

Brie looked around. She didn't see anything out of the ordinary, but Tom's expression forced her to believe him. "Guys, we need to leave."

"What now?" demanded Rynah.

"This place is alive," said Tom.

"Of course it's alive," Rynah answered in a bored tone. "There are plants all over the place, meaning that life exists here."

'That's not what I mean," Tom said. "These plants are watching us."

"Impossible," scoffed Rynah.

"I'm telling you--"

"Where is Brie?" asked Solon, interrupting Tom's tirade.

Silence ensued. All of them glanced around as Brie had disappeared. A soft choking caught their attention. A few yards away, Brie hung suspended in the air as a leafy arm, resembling a claw more than the part of a plant, clutched her; a vine, snaking from the plant's head, around its body and to her mouth gagged her, while the plant's other leafy hand wrapped around her throat, forcing her lips and cheeks to turn turquoise in color.

A menacing battle cry erupted from Alfric as he charged the monstrous plants, sword raised. With one swift strike, he sliced through the plant's arm that had latched itself around Brie's throat. Brie crashed into the dirt, coughing and spitting out globs of sap.

More of the giant plants closed in. Alfric eyed them, realizing that Tom had been correct in his assessment: the plants were self-aware. One root shot straight for him. He dodged out of the way and brought his sword down upon it. The plant recoiled before retaliating by opening its mouth, ex-posing razor teeth, and releasing a deafening roar.

Frightened, Brie crouched low to the ground, covering her ears. She screeched and pleaded for it to stop.

"Take my hand," said Alfric.

Brie shook her head.

A tendril wrapped around Alfric's ankle, yanking him off his feet and causing him to lose his sword. Desperate, he clawed at the ground to keep from being pulled into the creature's mouth. An-other leafy tendril curled around his waist and squeezed. Unable to breathe, Alfric tried to wrench it apart. It squeezed tighter.

Hunkered in her spot, Brie watched, helpless, as Alfric was dragged away, dusty, fibrous vines coiled around his torso. She glanced at the others, unsure of what to do. They fought off the vicious plants in vain, firing their weapons and swinging fallen branches. Someone hollered her name. Cringing, her hands covering her head of mousy brown hair, Brie just wished she were home, that it was nothing more than a mere dream.

A series of sputtering and muffled yelps made her look up. Alfric struggled for breath. Brie snatched a stick and raced for the man that had saved her life twice, slipping between the carnivo-rous plants as they tried to grab her. Alfric was about to pass out when Brie smacked the plant that held him with her stick. Startled, though not hurt, the plant reared its ugly head towards her, loosen-ing its grip on the Viking. Brie stared at it, dropping her stick. She turned to flee, but it lassoed her and pulled her close.

Distracted by Brie, the plant failed to notice that Alfric fell free of its grasp. The Viking lunged for his blade, snatched it, and cut off the leafy arm that held Brie. With one great leap, he charged the creature and with a mighty swing of his sword, cut off the thing's head. Not wasting a moment, Alfric seized Brie, and together, they raced back to where the others fought for their lives.

Rynah leapt over a root that aimed for her feet. She somersaulted across the ground, pulled out her laser pistol, and fired. Squealing, the plant monster cried out in agony; its orange eyes glared at her. In retaliation, it reached for her again, seizing her long, emerald hair, which she had pulled in a braid, and jerked hard. Despite the intense pain in her scalp, Rynah aimed at the creature's mouth and pulled the trigger. Two laser blasts hit it in the back of its throat. It formed a sour, pinched face before tumbling over.

Freeing herself, Rynah glanced around. She spotted a cave nearby. "Over there!" she yelled, pointing at it.

The others turned and ran for the opening, leaping over protruding roots that popped out of the soil and reached for them. Something crashed into the ground, flinging debris that pelted their skin. Tumultuous noise raged around them as they ran for their salvation.

One by one, they entered the dark hole of the cave. Rynah counted each of them as they entered. Taking one last shot at a carnivorous plant that attempted to enter the cave with them, Rynah ducked inside. Knowing that the voracious plants would never cease pursuing them, she did the only thing she could think of: she fired three shots at the cave entrance. Thunder loomed around them as rock and boulders crashed to the cave floor, blocking the entrance and sealing them inside, and their fate.

"How are we to get out?" asked Tom.

"I don't know," breathed Rynah.

"Rynah! Rynah!" came Solaris' voice over her earpiece. "You must all come back to the ship immediately. I have conducted additional scans of the planet's surface and have made a terrible dis-covery. The plants are meat-eating and--"

"Thanks, Solaris," replied Rynah, "but you're a little late."

"Oh," said Solaris. "What is your current location?"

"We are sealed in a cave," said Rynah. "I don't think we will be able to rendezvous with you on time. Stick to your orders."

"Understood."

"So how are we getting out?" asked Brie.

"We're not," said Rynah.

"I never should have left home," mumbled Brie as she wandered to a secluded part of the cave.

Rynah released an exasperated sigh. Of all the people Solaris had to pick, she thought. "What are you doing?" she asked Solon, who studied the cave wall with intense interest.

"Where there is an entrance, there must be an exit," he replied. "I am certain these tunnels run deep and will lead us to another way out."

"Really?" said Rynah. "And how can you be so certain?"

"Would you rather just sit here and wait to die?" asked Solon.

Rynah holstered her pistol. "The rest of you remain here. Solon and I will search these tunnels. If we find anything, we'll let you know."

"And if you don't?" asked Tom.

Rynah walked away with Solon in silence, refusing to answer Tom's question. Tom didn't mind. He had already guessed the answer.

Brie huddled in a shadowy corner of the cavern, its gloominess fueling her own, hugging her knees close to her, head hung low. She had screwed up earlier and she knew it. Why did they bring her? Brie knew she wasn't brave or warrior-like material. She was just a teenager who only wanted to get through high school and escape the endless taunts of Jenny and her friends. Brie felt all alone. The others looked upon her with disgust. Rynah had nothing but contempt for her. Brie wished she could go home. Maybe they'd be better off without me.

Heavy footsteps approached her. She glanced up and looked at Alfric before turning away.

"Why do you sit here alone?" asked Alfric, his gentle tone surprised her.

"Go away," mumbled Brie.

"It is not good to be alone."

"I screwed up today, okay?" Brie tried to hide the sob in the back of her throat, but it came out anyway.

"A mistake can be learned from," said Alfric. "Why do you frighten easily?"

"I don't know what you mean?"

"Why do you let fear take you? When faced with a challenge, you cower."

"Leave me alone."

"Why? What frightens you?"

"Nothing!" Brie stood up.

"Nothing? You curled in a ball while the rest of us were attacked."

"I don't do well in conflict. I hate confrontation."

"Why?"

"It doesn't matter."

"It does matter. Or would you rather spend your days as a coward? Why? Why do you run?"

"My father, okay?" Brie's voice bounced off the walls of the cave. "He died because of war. He died because of conflict! And now I am nothing but a weakling for the likes of Jenny to pick on each day."

Silence loomed as Alfric smiled, having gotten to the cause of Brie's problem. "Your father died in war?"

"Yes," replied Brie.

"My father also died in war, but I do not let it stop me from defending myself."

"I can't."

"Who is Jenny?"

"Some girl from school. She and her friends chase me home almost every day."

"So stop her," said Alfric.

"I can't," said Brie.

"Can't or won't?"

"I just can't!"

Alfric closed the distance between them and pushed Brie.

"What the..."

Alfric shoved her again.

"Stop it."

In answer to her demands, he shoved her a third time, nearly knocking her off her feet.

"Stop!"

"Make me stop," said Alfric as he shoved her a fourth time.

"Look, I don't want to fight," said Brie, who tried to back away.

Alfric pushed her again.

"I said to stop!"

"Then why don't you stop me?" He shoved her a sixth time.

Infuriated, Brie pushed his arm out of the way and punched him on the chin, recoiling, putting her hands over her mouth. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

Alfric touched the sore spot where she had struck him. "The next time Jenny chases you, you should strike her as you have struck me." He turned to leave, but paused. "Never apologize for de-fending yourself from an attack."

Brie stood alone in the darkness, unsure of what she thought about what had occurred. She flexed her fist, marveling at the sense of power she felt when she forced Alfric to stop pushing her around, and at the sting that still remained on her knuckles. Maybe he had a point.

Rynah snapped a glow light around her wrist. "Here," she said to Solon as she snapped one around his wrist.

"What is that?" he asked, having never seen one before.

"Think of it as a torch," she replied.

She and Solon walked together in the damp, murkiness of the cave, her boots making heavy clomps compared to Solon's sandals, which sounded more like taps. She waved her light at the cave wall, noting the smooth, multicolored ripples that lined it.

"What makes you think that there is another entrance?" asked Rynah.

"This," replied Solon, pointing at a tiny stream of water. "It must have a beginning. That is our way out of here."

Smiling, Rynah peered closer at the stream. "Perhaps you're of some use after all."

"Is that the reason why you brought us all here? Because you thought we would be useful?"

Rynah slowed her pace. She knew that she had not been entirely honest with Solon and the oth-ers, but how could she?

She faced him. "No."

Solon's expression indicated disbelief. For a brief moment, Rynah felt that the young Greek phi-losopher could see right through her. "I brought you all here because you were the only ones who could help me."

"One man's lie is another man's truth," said Solon.

"I'm not..."

Solon faced her. The stern expression on his once calm face unnerved her. "I don't care what your reasons are for wanting Klanor dead," he said. "I just ask that you be honest about them. You owe us all that."

Rynah felt heat escape her as Solon scrutinized her. She felt she had been reduced from the leader of the group to a student. Rather than consider his words, she reiterated the same story. "I have been honest. Klanor destroyed my planet and means to destroy yours. You and the others are the only ones I can trust."

"Because of an ancient legend."

"Mostly."

"Interesting how readily we trust strangers over the ones we know," said Solon as he continued to walk upstream, "Klanor is not all that he seems. When he taunted you, I sensed that there was more to his offer, an internal struggle, but there was more to your answer as well; there is turmoil in you. I fear that you have a hard lesson to learn, Rynah."

"What do you mean?"

"Just like I must learn to be on time for my studies, you must learn to face whatever it is you are hiding, even if you do not realize that you are running from it."

"I am not running from anything," said Rynah.

Solon didn't respond to her statement. He turned back around and continued after the small stream, its slow trickle filling the tunnel with its song. Light spilled up ahead. Using the glow light around his wrist, Solon guided them to what he saw.

"What is it?" asked Rynah.

Solon stopped under a hole in the cave ceiling, beaming as the sunlight shone through it. "I have found our exit."

Rynah stepped over to him and peered up at the hole. It seemed big enough for them squeeze through. "Let's go tell the others."

Continue the story.

