 
## **Contents**

Copyright

Contact

Omnigalactic: The Eye of Shen'roth

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE Welcome Home

CHAPTER TWO Have A Seat

CHAPTER THREE The Weak Spot

CHAPTER FOUR An Alternative Career Option

CHAPTER FIVE The Entrepreneur

CHAPTER SIX Omnigalactic, LLC

CHAPTER SEVEN Money, the Lifeblood

CHAPTER EIGHT Founder and CEO

CHAPTER NINE Beyond Your Comprehension

CHAPTER TEN Speaking of Wizards

CHAPTER ELEVEN You Crazy Psycho

CHAPTER TWELVE Too Early

CHAPTER THIRTEEN Death Throes

CHAPTER FOURTEEN Shadow of a Beast

CHAPTER FIFTEEN Misery Loves Company

CHAPTER SIXTEEN The Sanest Man

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN Stringy Meat Scraps

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN World-Class Loser

CHAPTER NINETEEN Jord

CHAPTER TWENTY Thanks For Everything

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE Finish This Thing

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO Fish Food

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE Loverboy

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR Hand It Over

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE Top of the World

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX My Own Boss
Omnigalactic: The Eye of Shen'roth

Copyright 2019 Christopher Conner

All rights reserved

Published by Christopher Conner at Smashwords

This book is a work of fiction. All characters, dialogue, and incidents described in this publication are fictional or entirely coincidental.

No part of this publication may be reproduced or reprinted without permission from the publisher. Please address all inquiries to c.c.longhand@gmail.com

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Omnigalactic: The Eye of Shen'roth

Christopher Conner

To Mom and Dad

CHAPTER ONE

Welcome Home

In Interspace, everything was black and white. I mean, everything. Imagine an old, black-and-white movie from three centuries ago, but you're in it. Pitch-black trails of smog swirled around aimlessly in a piercing white space. It reminded me of a negative photograph of cigarette smoke, like something a freshman photography major would think was "deep" and "abstract". Not that I would have chosen those words to describe Interspace. I would have described it as "disturbing" and "abysmal".

I spotted a massive, spire-shaped object slowly tumbling through the black haze. Must have been a derelict ship of some kind. Creatures flew around it, scuffling over who would get the next bite of the poor souls trapped inside. Those things were not of our universe, and we were most certainly not of theirs.

I pushed forward on the thruster to increase my speed. My head hit the back of my captain's chair as the thrusters kicked in response. I didn't want to end up like that ship back there, and spending a week screaming through Interspace was more than I wanted to endure. That place started to wear on your psyche after a while, like a sand grinder against the jagged end of a metal beam.

I don't share this with too many people, but sometimes, on really long jobs, I would start to hear whispers inside my head. Some strange language I'd never heard in my entire twenty-two years of life. My doctor back home prescribed me an antipsychotic to take while I was on the job. When I told him it didn't work, he told me to see a therapist. I appreciated the gesture, and I knew he was doing his job, but he didn't get it - I only heard the noise in Interspace. Once I left, it disappeared; vanished like a cheap magic trick.

Despite the dangers that lay there, it was a calm and quiet place - for a time, anyway, because the longer I was there, the more those creeping fingers of insanity took a hold of my mind. In the commercial business, we pilots had a rule: Only do short jumps at a time; otherwise, you'll go insane and jab your eyes out before you ever reenter Realspace. (That is, if you could first survive an attack from a ravenous swarm of razorfangs, harpies, or uberserpents.)

Up ahead, the triangular Wyn Gate sat idle against the white - my way out of there. I quickly tapped the six-digit code commanding the Wyn Gate to home in on my ship's - excuse me; the company's ship's \- Realspace beacon. A light on the console flickered and oscillated until it remained solid, locked in for Realspace transition. As I neared the Wyn Gate, it spun faster and faster, until the image of a teal-and-brown sphere appeared between the angles.

Anura - the homeworld of my beautiful people.

Color returned as I exited Interspace. White transitioned into a star-pocked, black canvas littered with starships great and small, zooming in all directions. The red-orange iris of the Fire-Eye Nebula was ablaze behind Anura, unblinking, as if eternally transfixed by the tiny planet. I breathed a heavy sigh, relieved that everything was exactly where I left it.

Only the people who travelled through Wyn Gates understood that time dilated in Interspace. What might have been a few day's passing on Anura would stretch to a week in there. I won't lie; it wore on me after a time. But, the overtime pay made up for it. (And it really made up for it, thanks to the time delay.)

I had more years than any other commercial pilot at Liberty Freight, and at my hefty pay rate, nothing was going to change that - unless I owned my own ship, of course. It would have been nice to be my own boss, take my own shipping jobs, and take a vacation whenever I wanted. Heck, I would have just lived on the ship. No utility bills, no rent; just food and fuel. And Wat's Master Brew, of course. Bah, who am I kidding? I didn't have the gonads to go out on my own.

A klaxon squeaked at the control console. I flicked a switch to accept the transmission. "This is Cadel. Go ahead," I said.

"About time you got back, Sai." It was Tuve, the dockyard manager. Good guy.

"I know. I had a slight delay back at the mining depot. Looks like the Nivarans are trying to flex their muscles again."

Tuve ignored me. "You need to get back as soon as possible. Things have changed since you left."

"What do you mean? Is everything okay?"

Tuve sighed into the speaker. I couldn't stand when people did that. Horrible radio etiquette. Breathe, cough, clear your throat; do whatever you need to do first, then press the transmitter to speak. So simple.

"You're clear to land at Dock 308," he said. "Hurry up."

What was wrong with him? Tuve wasn't a thin-skinned kind of person. It was the end of the month. Maybe he'd received a poor performance review?

I engaged the route tracker for the Heads-Up-Display (HUD) projected on the glasteel viewing area. A path of green-yellow rings popped up. I kept the ship inside the rings as I reentered Anura's atmosphere. Intense heat cooked the inside of the ship. Beads of sweat formed on my cheeks, under my armpits, and at the small of my back. Thank the Pantheon, I had the company install the synthetic-fiber chair, because if the fabric didn't breathe so well, I would have had sweat marks on my ass, too. I undid the zipper on my leather bomber jacket to cool off. I loved that jacket. It made me look badass. Bought it at an antique Human store some time back; couldn't pass on it. We were shorter than Humans, though. So, I had to get it tailored.

The temperature lowered to a more comfortable level as I finally passed into the lower atmosphere. Vast swamps and wetlands covered the surface of Anura for miles. Greenish gasses hung over the bogs and mixed with the billowy white clouds. Ritan City, named after the famous warrior of old, emerged from the fog. Hemispherical buildings choked the little area of stable ground, and a sea of green-skinned Anurans went about their day. Ah, it was good to be back home.

The route tracker blipped repeatedly, signaling that I had reached Dock 308. I approached a building with the crimson-and-gold logo of Liberty Freight. A door slid open and revealed a landing pad, so I slowed the ship. The main thrusters decrescendoed from a roar to a hum as I landed.

When I exited the rear access ramp, I noticed an extreme lack of dock personnel - as in, no one was working. The docks were never that empty. There were no shipping containers, no loaders, no forklift mechs, and no starships. My freighter was the only thing in there.

"Sai, over here!" Tuve's voice echoed from the main office to my left.

I quickened my stride and entered the main office. I stopped in the doorway and looked around the room. It was completely empty. No desks, computers, chairs, monitors - and most of all, no employees. An eerie silence hung in the air. Only my thoughts and breath broke up the quiet.

"Tuve, you mind telling me what's going on?" I asked.

"The company's been liquidated," he answered with the bluntness of a sledgehammer.

"Liquidated?"

"Liberty Freight is no more. After the markets crashed, it came down from the top that they were cashing in, cutting their losses. They sold off everything they could."

"Wait. Wait. You're telling me the company's gone? Poof? Just like that? And what do you mean, the market crashed?"

Tuve shook his head and sighed. "I don't know how it all happened, but by the time we heard, it was already too late. They cut everyone except for a skeleton crew, until the rest of the pilots get back. Then, the dock closes for good."

"When are the rest of the pilots supposed to return?"

Tuve handed me a small box. "You are the last one. Make sure you get everything out of your locker. Once I lock up the office, no one's allowed back in. Severance will be included in your last deposit."

So, that was it. Nearly ten years of my loyalty, my life, to this company, burnt black. I'd always imagined myself riding the job out, maybe even slowly moving up the chain, but that idea had just blown up in my face like a runway technician standing behind starship thrusters.

"What are you going to do now?" Tuve asked.

"Get another piloting gig, obviously," I lied. I really wasn't sure what I was going to do next. This was all so unexpected. An anomaly.

Tuve shook his head. "Good luck. We weren't the only shipping company to go under. A lot of pilots are out of work now."

"What about you?"

"I hear Reliant Shipping is still in business. I might try my luck there."

Reliant Shipping? Our main competitor? What a traitor! I take back what I said about him. To think I had been about to ask him out for a drink - or ten. You know, to drown our sorrows in beer.

"Well," he said. "We'd better get going. I'll be waiting for you in the lobby."

I went to my circular locker in the room around the corner, box in hand. Five, two, eight, five. The tiny light on the lock changed from red to blue and popped open. I didn't keep much in my locker: A Personal Communication Device (PCD), a mug, and a picture of me sitting on top of a vanar I'd hunted a few years ago. My best friend, Jord, had taken the picture. Great guy. I shut my locker for the last time, headed to the lobby, and stepped out the front door with Tuve right behind. We gave each other halfhearted farewells - at least, I did, anyway - and left Liberty Freight for good.

Now, what was I going to do? I continued to ask myself that question as I walked past hordes of the newly-unemployed, bustling about on the quest for work. To think that while I'd spent what felt like a week in Interspace, everyone else on Anura had already reacted to their new situation. Everyone was two or three steps ahead of me. It felt like I was flying without knowing the pitch, yaw, or roll of my ship. I had to devise a plan, quick, or the crash was going to devour me alive.

A sudden, violent jerk of my shoulders sent me hurling into an alleyway. I crashed face-first into a pile of garbage. Before I could even attempt to get back on my feet, I was grabbed and thrown against the opposite wall. Something hard stuck into my spine, and I winced from the sharp pain. Can't say I'd ever been robbed before, but I could tell it was some kind of handgun.

"All right, pal, keep your hands where I can see 'em," a grizzled voice said behind me. He nudged me in the back again.

I stretched my arms out wide. "C'mon, I don't have anything on me. Let me go."

"That ain't the first lie I've heard this week," he said. "First, they tell me, 'Don't worry; you won't lose your job. Your department's safe. It's just a dip in this quarter's revenue. We're just trimmin' the fat.' Next thing I know, I'm clearing out my desk. Now, take out that digiwallet and drop it on the ground."

"Trust me," I tried to reason with him. "I know the feeling. I was just laid off after ten years of work."

He jabbed the gun harder into my back. "Shut up and spare me the sympathy."

Something about the guy's voice was familiar - too familiar. "Wait a second," I said and turned around. It was an older Anuran, dressed in business slacks and a shirt and tie, with a little extra weight around his midsection. He'd worked in accounting at Liberty Freight. He and I used to talk fishing whenever I had to hand over my travel-expense reports.

"Nil?"

"Sai? Oh, shit!" He lowered the gun and tucked it into his blazer. "I didn't realize it was you. Sorry."

I lowered my hands. "Like that is going to make it any better? What the hell are you doing?"

Nil shook his head and rubbed his eyes. "I don't know what I'm doing anymore. It's only been a week, but I'm going crazy. My wife needs a new prosthetic liver, but we don't have any money. My retirement's completely down the toilet, and I only have two months in savings. I don't know what I'm going to do, Sai."

I shook my head and adjusted my jacket. "I just got back from the Nivara Sector. I don't even know what I'm going to do yet."

He looked away from me and out of the alley, watching the people pass by. "I doubt any of them know, either. Well, I wish you luck. Oh, and sorry again about trying to rob you."

I scoffed. "Don't mention it. Make sure you double-check it's not someone you know next time, eh?"

Nil collected himself and disappeared into the alley, his head down and eyes lowered in clear embarrassment. I mean, I would have been embarrassed, too, if I'd almost robbed someone I knew. But then, would I have done the same in his position? Could I have stooped that low? Even worse, would I have to resort to Nil's tactics in the near future? How bad was the situation if an accountant would rob people at gunpoint?

All these questions swirled around in my head, until I reached the body-packed Central Square. Near the center was the Ritan City Stock Exchange building - a cylindrical tower permanently illuminated with hundreds of lights from hundreds of offices. A share-price ticker frantically scrolled from left to right. I searched for the three-symbolled Liberty Freight price amongst them - as if I needed any more proof that the company had gone under. So many were red - too many were red. I'd never liked that color. Always reminded me of my test scores in school.

There it was - Liberty Freight Services, down to one bitcred a share. There went my retirement. It would take another ten years to replace it. And I could kiss any chance of buying my own ship goodbye, too.

I felt sweaty again. My heart jumped into my throat and strangled me. I swallowed hard, pushing it back into my chest. I'm going to be honest; no ideas were coming to mind. I felt both creatively and financially bankrupt. My knees gave out and forced me to sit on the humidity-moistened ground, sure to leave a nice ass imprint on my trousers. So much for that breathable chair.

Then, it popped into my head: Apply at Reliant Shipping. You know you have to. It is the safest option at this point. With a new vacuum in the shipping market, Reliant was sure to make the move to gobble it up. That's what I would have done if I ran that company. But, that would have made me no better than Tuve.

What the hell was I thinking? Liberty Freight was gone. It had been gone the entire time I was hauling gold to the Nivaran Union. My loyalty to the company meant about as much as the share price. Hell, less than that. I owed it to myself (and my bank account) to give it a chance. Not to mention the fact that I didn't care to draw the ire of my dad once again. I could already hear his voice in back of my mind. That same, tired speech, over and over and over. When are you going to do this? When are you going to do that? Look at your brothers and sisters. It was like, "I get it, Dad - you know everything there is to know about success."

I wasn't cut out for all that "go get 'em" stuff. Too many people got burned when they went their own way.

I pulled the PCD out of my jacket and searched for Reliant Shipping's employment number. I found it. My finger hovered shakily over the digital number pad. Just dial the number, idiot. I took a breath, long and deep. My lungs filled with the thick, moist, Anuran air. I dialed the number and waited for another person to speak on the other end. It was an eternity before I heard someone answer.

"Hello, thank you for calling Reliant Shipping," said a sexy voice. She sounded extremely attractive. I could smell her feminine pheromones from here.

"Yes, hello," I said. "I was wondering if-"

"Our representatives are currently busy with other callers. Please wait for the next available representative. Your call may be monitored for quality assurance."

Oh, right, it was automated. I felt pretty stupid as I waited on hold. There was a click. Someone picked up my call.

"Thank you for calling Reliant Shipping. This is Kana. How can I help you today?"

"Hello, Kana," I said. "My name is Sai Cadel. I'm a pilot. I was wondering if there were any vacant positions with your company. I understand you probably have a lot of inquiries as of late, but I would greatly appreciate any information you have."

She chuckled, as if she were laughing at my situation. I was probably the one-hundredth person to call her today. I was so glad I didn't have her job; answering an endless conveyor belt of calls. "Well, we do have one position as of now. There's an open interview slot tomorrow morning. Would you like me to instamail you the application information?"

"Yes, please." Thank the Pantheon! This was my chance.

My PCD vibrated. The files were all there.

"Is there anything else I can help you with today?"

"No, that was all I needed. Thank you."

"Thank you, Mister Cadel. And thank you for calling Reliant Shipping, the Number-One name in shipping. Please stay on the line for a brief survey."

I hung up. No way I was going to take another one of those stupid surveys. Were there people who actually did them? I refused to believe that. Who had the time? I sure didn't.

I uploaded all the necessary documents required by the application, all the while hoping someone would call me back for an interview. An interview... oh, hell, I hadn't had to prepare for an interview in ten years. I had to get home and get everything ready, just in case they called me back. I needed to get an outfit ready and do a mock interview with myself in the mirror. If I was to nail this thing, then I needed to utilize the rest of my time accordingly. I took a taxi home, unable to shake the anxiety.

CHAPTER TWO

Have A Seat

My head pounded when I woke from the previous night's bender. I couldn't remember too much, only that I had been suppressing the anxiety caused by my unemployment situation. There was still a can of Wat's Master Brew in the cooler next to my reclining chair. The ice had melted into slush. Icy chunks slid down my hand as I pulled the can out and pressed it against my forehead. It relieved my headache but only temporarily. Who knew fermented algae could mess someone up so bad?

A draft from the window graced my nether regions with cool, morning air. I looked down. At some point, I must have taken my trousers off to combat the heat. The utilities company that powered my apartment received most of its energy through Liberty Freight. So, until they found a new energy supplier, my apartment had no power.

Jumping out the window and colliding with the ground headfirst sounded all too appealing at that point. Who was I kidding? I didn't have the gonads to do something like that.

Muffled chiming sounds projected from my jacket, which I had apparently decided not to take off before going to bed. It was my PCD. I pulled it out and read the notification: INTERVIEW IN ONE HOUR! Just enough time to get ready and commute to Reliant Shipping's home office.

I ripped off my jacket and hopped into the cylindrical, glass hygiene chamber. Normally, when I pushed the button to turn it on, the jets underneath my feet start shooting up moisture. It was supposed to hiss. Instead, all I heard was an ineffectual click. Damn it, I'd forgotten about the utilities company. I held arms overhead and took a few sniffs. Not too bad. A simple application of Balan's Bog Water would cover up any body odor.

I wore the only professional, collared shirt I owned. It was purple and brought out my yellow eyes. The slacks were a tad tight, though. I would be lying if I didn't admit that years sitting in the captain's chair had made me soft around the midsection. My bomber jacket finished off the outfit. I figured it would give me an air of experience as I walked into the interviewer's office.

The door whooshed shut behind me as I left my apartment and made for the tramway. I knew that the orange tram towards the industrial district left in six minutes, so I quickened my stride. I zoomed past everyone and weaved between them like I was flying through an asteroid belt. Up ahead, the orange tram doors whined as they slid open. Hordes of Anurans and other aliens poured forth from the tram and filled the streets. I rushed to the front of the pack and stopped just short of the turnstiles. Entry fee was five bitcreds, so I searched my pockets for my digiwallet.

The Pantheon must have despised me that day. I'd left it at the apartment.

It was too late to run back for it now. If I did, I would have missed the tram and been late to the interview. My heart sank at the thought of needing to commit the most disgraceful act in Anuran society - asking for money. People who accepted handouts were considered sub-Anuran. This was going to hurt, but if I didn't get on that tram, I'd soon be begging for handouts on a street corner, anyway.

Someone bumped into me from behind. I turned around to see an Anuran with a belly twice the size of my head. "Move it, swamp gas! I'm trying to get on!"

I swallowed hard. I could feel my pride committing suicide, laying in a pool of its own blood. "Say, you think you could spare a few bitcreds?" I asked. My voice quivered like a scared child's.

The fat guy's eyes widened. I would have been better off insulting him for his extreme weight. I mean, I wasn't in the best shape myself, but I looked like a fitness model compared to him.

"What did you just say to me?" he asked.

"I'm short on bitcreds for the tram," I said, rewording my initial question to soften the impact. "Mind helping a guy out? The crash put me in a bad spot."

"You dirty freeloader," he said and pushed me aside. "Move out of my way."

"How about a deal?" I asked. He stopped and looked me square in the eyes. "The deal" is considered sacred amongst our people, as it must be honored. Other Anurans halted to witness the event. I wished I had been able to bathe that morning, as I felt sweat forming under my armpits.

"What did you have in mind?" he asked. His eyes looked me up and down, then left to right.

"I will offer you an article of clothing for the cost of my tram ride," I said.

"Hmm..." he said as he eyed my clothes. "I'll take that jacket."

"Jacket's not up for trade," I countered. I'd have much rather chopped off my gonads than give up my awesome jacket.

"Then, get lost. Nothing else will fit me."

I stopped him as he started walking toward the tram. "Hold on, now. The shirt is elastic and easily cost me thirty bitcreds."

He felt the material of my shirt between his thumb and index finger. He nodded. "Okay, we have a deal."

I sighed heavily in relief as he paid my way onto the tram. As idiotic as I felt, I was more than happy to give him my shirt. Bare-chested, I zipped up my jacket and sat on one of the multitude of seats lining the cabin. I'd have to keep my jacket on for the interview. Not in my original plan, but there was no turning back now.

The overhead speaker system came to life with a male voice slightly less sexy than the automated one from yesterday's phone call. The voice informed everyone of today's weather (soggy and humid, as usual), and the news. Maybe I'd get some information about the crash. It skimmed through some stories about the Cold War between the Koris Republic and the Nivaran Union, two Human factions who hated each other. I didn't get it. It finally got to talking about the economy. An audio clip of a woman interviewing an economist played. Turns out the crash was a bubble. Pop. The economist made the claim that he tried to warn everyone, but I could hear in his voice that he was a filthy liar.

"I told you all, it goes up, and it goes down," he said. "You can't have wild speculation - a continuous bull run - and not expect the market to correct. Unfortunately, this time, the correction was a hard nosedive." When the economist said "nosedive", all I could think about was my career.

My ride ended once the tram reached the Industrial District. I glanced at my PCD - 09:16. Perfect. A crowd of passengers rose in unison as the doors slid open, and they rushed off the tram. They pushed and shoved one another to get to the front of the pack. I stayed back to let them through. No use getting trampled by the mindless mobs before I course-corrected my life.

Reliant Shipping's home office was up ahead, past my old job. A tarp concealed Liberty Freight's rooftop sign. I won't lie to you; it stung. If I could compare it to anything, it would be like watching a janitorial droid sweep up garbage on the street- except that garbage was the last decade of my life. It wasn't much to some people - probably most people - but it was a lot to me.

If you can believe it, even garbage once used to be something valuable. Was that the end stage of all things? Something was valuable, got used, and then thrown away? I shook my head to get rid of those thoughts.

I checked in at the front desk on a lone tablet.  Name: Cadel, Sai. Reason for visit: Interview. Time of arrival... I looked at my PCD - 09:20. I decided to shave a minute or two off the time. No one would know. Time of arrival: 09:18.

I joined the mass of people in the waiting area. My jaw dropped. I don't claim to be a clairvoyant, but I knew, deep down, they were all here for interviews. Looked like I wasn't the only one the crash hit hard.

At 09:27, I was called into the back by a voice on an overhead speaker. They mispronounced my last name. It's not 'Kay-dill'; it's 'Kuh-dell'. Moron.

My heart dislodged from my chest and plummeted into my guts when I saw who the interviewer was - the fat guy from the tramway. He looked just as surprised, too. Just my luck.

"Ah, the shirt guy," he said as I shuffled in. "Please, have a seat. My name is Gunlo, and I'll be interviewing you today."

I decided to avoid discussing the event further. Best to ignore it and salvage my relationship with him. His first impression of me was already burning up in the atmosphere. I cursed how stupid I'd looked, walking in with a zipped-up jacket.

He tapped away on a tablet for a few seconds before making eye contact with me. "So, Mister Kay-dill, you want to fly commercially for Reliant Shipping. Is that correct?"

"Yes, Sir," I answered. "And call me Sai." I couldn't stand to hear him butcher my last name again.

"Sai... yes, I see. And you are a credentialed pilot, is that right?"

"Yes. I graduated top of my class at the Elaro Institute of Aeronautics, right here in Ritan City. I included my transcripts, just in case."

Gunlo squinted at his tablet and swiped a greasy finger along the screen. He nodded. "Yes, I see them. And you worked at Liberty Freight for about ten years."

"Yes, Sir."

"So, let me get this straight: You graduated top of your class from a highly-esteemed piloting school, and you decided to get into the shipping industry? Flying cargo ships?"

"Somebody has to do it. We can't all be ace pilots, flying dangerous missions at the edge of space."

Gunlo harrumphed. "That may be true, but you certainly could have."

"Listen, I enjoy what I do... what I did, anyway. I wouldn't be here if it weren't for the company going under." Damn it. I'd let that last sentence slip, and I could tell by the disapproving look on Gunlo's face that I'd messed up. Bad.

"Well, I'm sorry to inconvenience you. Where do you see yourself in the next ten years?"

"I thought these questions were going to be easy," I joked and chuckled. Man, that was desperate. That joke didn't even get off the runway, and Gunlo certainly didn't share my sense of humor. "Where do I see myself in ten years? Hopefully, flying for Reliant Shipping."

"Interesting," he said as he rubbed his chin. "And why is that?"

Another toughie. My cheeks burned hot, and my headache returned as I quickly thought about what the best answer would be. I could either be honest with him or come up with some cliché, corporate platitude. The problem was, I wasn't sure which was which at that point. "I'm seeking new opportunities, pushing my limits, so-to-speak. To see what else is out there."

Gunlo's tablet dinged. I jumped in my seat. "Oh, time's up," he said.

"Wait, that's it?" I asked.

"Due to the sheer number of interviews today, we only had enough time to allocate five minutes for each one," he explained with a smile on his face. "However, I will have you go next door for your psychological evaluation."

My eyes popped, and I raised my brow. "Psychological evaluation? I'm not crazy. Just because I've been flying through Interspace a tad long doesn't mean I need a..."

Gunlo sighed. "It is Reliant Shipping's company policy that all candidates seeking piloting positions must undergo a psych eval. I didn't write the policy; I simply abide by it because I like my job, and I like paying my bills on time. Will that be all?"

I nodded.

"Thank you, Mister Kay-dill. We'll be keeping in touch."

It was a little sudden, but I thought I'd landed that ship smoothly. He shook my hand, and I sighed in relief as I left the office. Thank the Pantheon, the hard part was over. Now, I needed to get the psych eval out of the way. They'd probably just ask a bunch of questions and realize I was good to go. Should be easy, right?

I knocked on a glasteel door with a placard reading "Exam Room". It hissed as it slid open, wafting sterilized air into my face. I stepped into the all-white room and looked around. Nobody. That was weird.

"Hello?" I asked.

"Please, have a seat," a slightly masculine, robotic voice said from somewhere.

I sat in the lone chair in the middle of the room.

"Welcome to Reliant Shipping's Pre-Employment Psychological Examination. Here at Reliant Shipping, we seek only the best and most capable to ensure our clients receive the quality described in the company motto: 'Reliant - You Can Rely On Us.' Please state your name for the record."

"Sai Cadel."

There was a momentary pause before the robotic voice spoke again. "Okay, Sai Cadel, please state your age."

My age? What was the point of that? "Twenty-two."

Another pause. I heard a mechanical, whirring noise above my head. A pair of thin metal arms shot down and unfolded in front of my face. With a beep, they emitted a blank holoscreen. Reliant Shipping's logo appeared on it. "Okay, Sai Cadel. In a moment, you will be shown a series of images. Describe what you see in one word. Ready?"

"Uh, sure thing," I said. Can't say I was too sure how I'd perform on the test.

A black circle appeared on the holoscreen. "Hmmm... could be a ball or a plan-"

"Only one-word answers will be accepted," the robotic voice interrupted.

Pushy, isn't he? Fine, one-word answer. "Planet," I said.

The black circle morphed into a square. "Cargo."

Now, a diamond. "Starship."

A triangle. Ha, this one's easy. "Wyn Gate."

"Only one-word answers will be accepted."

Damn it. What's another word I can use? It popped into my head, accompanied by a bing! "Portal."

With the next image, the holoscreen sent me into a tailspin. It took me all the way back to math class my last year of high school, when I was ten - a tesseract. Was this supposed to be some kind of joke? How was anybody supposed to interpret a four-dimensional object? My eyes and brain ached as I watched the tesseract shift and rotate. I uttered the only word that made sense to a dummy like me: "Oblivion."

The holoscreen disappeared, and the two arms retracted and returned to the ceiling. "You have completed this section of the exam. We will move on to the next section. You will be presented with a series of scenarios in which you will be given two possible solutions. Multiple-word answers will be accepted. Ready?"

Uh-oh. Now, it was getting hard. "Yes," I lied.

"Scenario One: You're running late on a shipment to a long-time, high-priority client. In keeping with the company motto, do you call them ahead of time, apologize for the delay, and take a deduction in pay to cover the company's losses? Or do you press on, deliver the shipment, and pretend nothing happened, thereby sticking the company with the loss on a late delivery?"

"Well, uh, it's unfortunate that I was running late for reasons beyond my knowledge - I'm never late, by the way - but, I can't risk my own livelihood. I choose Option Two."

A few silent seconds passed, as if it were processing my answer.

"Scenario Two: Your vessel is being attacked by creatures of Interspace. Despite your best efforts, they have damaged a significant amount of your cargo. Do you continue evasion until you reach your destination, apologize for the reduced cargo, and take a deduction in pay to cover the company's losses? Or do you turn back and submit documentation to the Loss Prevention Department, thereby sticking the company with the loss?"

I shot up straight in my chair. "Hey! I see what you're trying to do. This is nothing but a screening for dummies to see who'll be stupid enough to get suckered out of a paycheck!"

The robotic voice ignored me. "Please answer the question," it said.

"Fine," I said and cleared my throat. "Option Two."

"Scenario Three: Your spouse and offspring are trapped in two separate tanks. Each tank is gradually filling up with water. They will eventually drown. Whom do you save?"

I scoffed. I was done with this moronic test. "For starters, I don't even have a wife and kid, so the question doesn't apply to me."

"Please answer the question."

"I dunno. The wife, I guess. You can always have more kids."

After another few seconds of processing, the voice said, "This concludes Reliant Shipping's Pre-Employment Psychological Examination. Please exit through the door behind you and have a pleasant day."

"Yeah, you can go space yourself, too," I said as I walked out of the exam room. Sheesh, when did getting a job become so hard?

Once I stepped out of the Reliant Shipping building, my PCD vibrated inside my jacket pocket. I pulled it out to see Jord, pinging me on instachat. I opened our conversation to talk to him on the main screen.

Jord: My trigger finger is gettin itchy. Time to kill!

Me: Are you spaced already?

Jord: The hunting trip u idiot. And yes. Needed to blow off sum steam.

Me: I'm not sure now. Got laid off from work. Need to find a job.

Jord: Me too. Be at ur place soon with my gear.

Me: Pick me up at industrial district. Forgot my digiwallet.

Jord: K bud.

So, Jord had been fired, too. I wondered why. Jord had worked in private security in high-crime areas downtown. It was hard to believe he would have gotten laid off, despite the crash. Things must have been really bad if a guy with his talent had been terminated.

It didn't alleviate any of my anxiety. In fact, it made it worse.

CHAPTER THREE

The Weak Spot

A misty green haze hung over the vast wetlands that surrounded Ritan City. Scraggly, moss-strewn trees poked up out of the swamps. It was still cool out, as the sun had not yet risen. Insects buzzed about, fleeing from tiny predators that lurked in the reeds and ribbongrass. One landed on my neck and tried to get a little taste of me. I smacked it quickly, and felt a satisfying crunch under the palm of my hand. The air was filled with chirps, buzzes, clicks, and the occasional head-splitting screech from a nunu bird soaring overhead. Ah, the sounds of the great outdoors. I'd needed this.

I peered through the infrared scope of my shotgun, down into an opening at the muddy bank of a pond just under seventy yards away. Any minute now, a vanar would come out of the water and scurry onto the bank. That's the moment I'd pull the trigger and blast a hole into it. Vanar were really smart and had excellent vision, but only during daylight hours. They couldn't see too well in the dark. So, once nighttime came, they'd head into their underwater burrows and sleep. If you wanted the element of surprise, you'd have to get into position while it was dark out, then pop them when they came out for breakfast. What a horrible way to die. I would have felt remorseful, but they tasted too good.

My buddy, Jord, was lying next to me with a rifle. He was my backup, in case I missed the first shot. At least, that's what he told me. Usually, he started shooting regardless, whether I hit my mark or not. He had an unquenchable need to shoot things.

Something stirred in the water. Concentric rings rippled outward, and a pair of black eyeballs peeked around from under the water. Through my infrared scope, the eyes appeared red-hot against the cool, black-and-blue pond.

I nudged Jord. "You see it?" I whispered.

"Yeah," he whispered back. "Remember, always aim for the weak spot. Everything's got a weak spot. You remember where it is?"

"Between the shoulder and chest."

"That's right. Oh, there she goes."

The eyes rose from the water, revealing the body they were attached to. It had a long, slender neck and snout with short, stubby legs. From the tip of its nose to its short tail were algae-caked, diamond-hard scales. The vanar scanned the area, arching its long neck in all directions. Luckily, vanar had no predators out in the wild. Unluckily for this one, however, we were there. And we were hungry.

It stepped forward a few feet and stopped to look around some more, sniffing the air and snorting.

"Not yet," Jord whispered. "Let it get a little closer."

The vanar crept forward and lowered its head, snout to the earth. My finger rested on the trigger. I took a deep breath and held to steady my aim. I pulled the trigger. Boom! My shotgun thundered and sent a slug into the fleshy tissue between its shoulder and chest. Blue splattered against the reeds. Jord sent a follow-up shot into the other side. The vanar cried out in pain before slumping into the mud, lifeless. Jord let out a bellow that echoed into the swamp.

"Nice shot, Sai!" Jord smacked me on the back. "She's a big sucker, too!"

"I've been practicing at the range between jobs," I said.

"C'mon, let's bring her back to camp."

We holstered our weapons and dragged the giant vanar through the reeds back to our camp. Well, she was giant to me. Probably not so much to Jord, who was nearly seven feet tall - two feet taller than the average Anuran. Jord was a Tresedi - the toughest survivors in the galaxy. They had red skin made rough and leathery from the harsh sun on their homeworld, and their bodies were corded with lean muscle, though some of Jord's skin had been replaced with cybernetic parts. His arm, face, and leg on one side of his body had been disfigured back when he'd fought in the AI War.

We reached our camp in about an hour and tossed the vanar aside. I ignited the campfire and watched Jord begin skinning our kill. He unsheathed his long, curved Tresedi hunting knife and descaled it. One by one, he dug the blade into the flesh and popped off each scale. It was enthralling, like watching a craftsman carve a wooden chair. What a badass.

The orange-yellow sun rose and turned the dark sky a beautiful, marshy green. The boggy gas trapped in the heat and made me sweaty, so I took off my jacket. Jord finished the descaling and started filleting the oily, bloody meat. He threw me two steaks. "Here, cook these up," he said.

I slapped the two vanar steaks in a pan sitting over the fire. They sizzled in the crackling oil. How I loved the peppery smell of vanar meat. "How do you want yours?"

"Blue in the middle."

"Rare, good choice."

After a few minutes on each side, the steaks had a satisfying brown char. I plopped them onto two tin plates and garnished them with a pinch of crispy ribbongrass. We both plopped down into the moist dirt around the fire and ate our fresh harvest.

When we finished eating our breakfast, Jord popped the question. "So, you lost your job?"

I nodded. "Liberty Freight went under after the crash. I can't believe it, Jord-o. I go out on a job for a week, only to come back and find myself emptying my locker."

He shook his head and started picking meat out of his teeth. "That's rough."

"You said you lost yours, too?"

"Yeah. They fired me for using excessive force."

"Excessive force?" I asked, holding back a laugh. I couldn't wait to hear this story.

"Know that bank downtown?" he began. "I was working front-door security. Asshole ghosty comes in, demanding shit like he owns the place. So, I did my job and reminded him who owns the place."

"What'd you do?" I knew there was more to it.

"I might have smacked him around a bit. I barely hit the guy. Not my fault he's a bleeder. He deserved it."

"Yeah, you're probably right," I agreed.

"What's next for you?"

I had to be honest with him. Jord was my best friend. Truthfully, my only friend. "I interviewed at Reliant Shipping. Just waiting for them to call me back."

"How good do you think your chances are?"

"Truthfully, not so good. I'm going to keep trying the shipping market though. So, what are you going to do now? Find another security firm?"

Jord was silent and uncertain. It was unlike him. He looked up, then out into the distance, then back to the campfire. "I can't do this anymore, Sai."

"What're you talking about? We don't have to go hunting anymore. We can do something else, you know."

"Not that, bud." He pointed at the domed buildings of Ritan City. "I mean, that. Holding down a normal job. Staying in one place for years at a time. I'm bored as hell. I miss the action. Aren't you bored?"

Was I? I suppose so. I hadn't enjoyed getting kicked to the curb, but I had to keep myself afloat. I couldn't afford to do anything else. Too many people got burned trying to make something of themselves. Commercial shipping was what I knew. It's all I knew.

"No," I lied. "I like what I do. It's safe. Secure. Well... not anymore."

"Aren't you tired of slaving for others?" he asked and poked at the campfire with a stick. Tiny, orange embers flickered into the air. "Don't you want to fly your own ship? Work for yourself?"

"Yeah. But..."

"So, why don't we go into business together, huh? Freelance stuff. Me and you. I'll do the shooting; you do the piloting. What do you say?"

That was all too much. What was I supposed to say? Did he know he sounded like a madman? I was a wage slave. A peon. I didn't have the brains to run a business. "I don't know, Jord. I can't."

Jord scoffed. "Why not? Look how we took down that vanar. How we hunt. We're a good team, Sai. Your dad's the CEO of the second-largest energy company in Ritan City. You have success in your blood."

"I'm not like my dad. And I'm not like you. You fought in the Hanza Conflict, the AI War, and a whole slew of other battles. You're a hundred years old and still move like a warrior."

"And you're a great pilot. It takes a huge set of gonads to fly through Interspace all the time. That's why I think we can do this. I know we can!"

"Just drop it," I said. "Let's go home."

Jord dumped water onto the fire. The flames hissed as they extinguished. Steam rose into the air and mixed with the haze. "I'm not staying on Anura. I'm going to find work offworld. I have to get out of here."

"You're not staying?"

Jord chuckled, then slung his rifle and pack over his shoulders. "Tresedi don't stay anywhere. We're nomads. C'mon, grab your stuff."

We loaded our gear and leftover vanar meat onto our all-terrain buggy rental without saying another word. Water splashing, the engine revving, and the tires chopping through mud were the only sounds on our way back to Ritan City. Nothing else could be said.

Jord was leaving Anura. How stupid had I been to think someone like him would have wanted to stay there? How stupid had he been to think I would have left? And starting our own business? He'd gotten too many blows to the head in all those wars if he thought I would have agreed to that.

After we returned the buggy to the rental shop, we stood together in silence at a tiny, dingy tram station. Not many people traveled to this side of town, and even fewer cared about it. Distant sounds of the downtown area echoed and drifted in the humid air. Jord waited for the green tram, while I waited for the blue.

My PCD vibrated. Reliant Shipping Employment Services was calling. I answered.

That sexy, automated voice told me I hadn't gotten the job. "Better luck next time," she told me.

I punched the red "end call" button so hard, the screen cracked. Those assholes didn't know what they were missing out on.

Jord shifted his weight to his cybernetic leg and coughed. He wasn't an idiot; he knew who called me. Probably heard the entire thing with his cybernetic ear.

Deep down in my heart, I knew I wouldn't see him again - at least, not for years. Unless he never came back. Tresedi were drifters by nature. Nothing pinned them down, not even family. So, I forced myself to say something, anything, to get him to stay.

I cleared my throat. "You know, I think you ought to reconsider leaving. There are Anuran military contracting companies that hire foreigners."

He looked down at me. I could feel that red, cybernetic eye scanning my face. "I'm going my own way, Sai. I'm not working for anyone but myself from now on. I thought someone who just got laid off would understand that."

"It was the crash that caused me to lose my job, not my boss."

"And yet, you're going to keep trying the same old shit, over and over. How many more times are you willing to hear 'Better luck next time'?"

"As many times as it takes!" I yelled.

He shook his head at me.

"What?"

"You're the stubbornest Anuran I ever met," he said.

The green tram hovered to our station and came to a halt. The doors whined as they slid open and revealed an empty cabin. Jord stepped up to the turnstiles, then stopped and turned around.

"You told me something once that I'll never forget. We were at the bar one night, piss-drunk on algae beer, philosophizing about doing everything you wanted before you died. When I said there wasn't enough time do everything you wanted, you looked at me cross-eyed and said, 'Jord, time flies. That's why I'm a pilot. You gotta grab the flightstick and steer.' What'd you mean by that?"

"As if I was sober enough to know what I meant," I said.

"Well, I like to think you were trying to say, 'go for your dreams'. So, that's what I'm doing." He paid the entrance fee, went through the turnstiles, and entered the tram cabin. "I'll let you know when I'm heading offworld. Good luck on the job hunt, Sai.""

The doors slid shut, and the green tram zoomed off to another district. I slumped onto a rusted metal bench, pondering my drunken statement. One word kept popping into the front of my mind. Hypocrite. I was the embodiment of that word, and I would continue to be until the day I died.

CHAPTER FOUR

An Alternative Career Option

A knock came at the door while I was arguing with the landlord about the air conditioning. My gonads had not ceased to be moist with sweat since the power had been out. Since the argument was going around in circles, I hung up on him. That high-pitched squawking voice of his made me feel like I had taken a pneumatic nail gun to my head. All those phone calls were becoming quite the nuisance lately.

More knocking. I scurried to the door and opened it. To my surprise, it was my parents. Damn it, they knew. It was time to play it cool.

My mother, Yulina, blessed by the Pantheon, was aging gracefully and still had those pretty golden eyes. She embraced me with one great hug, and I felt my sweaty forehead press into her scarlet blouse. My dad, however, the great Sar, looked older since I'd saw him last. Purple liver spots dotted the top of his head, and wrinkles carved their way around his violet eyes and tight-lipped mouth. Life as the CEO of Anura's second-largest energy company had aged him hard.

I offered them seats at my minuscule, glass dining table, which they gladly accepted. Their old-timer knees and ankles got sore, after all. My mother revealed she had brought me a wedge of aged bog cheese and a bottle of reedberry wine. How thoughtful of her. Pure delicacy, that stuff. Mom was one of those fancy, fine-dining restaurateurs and owned her own cheese farm.

We exchanged simple pleasantries and engaged in idle chatter for a moment before it became dead silent. I felt my father's eyeballs on me from across the table, but I was too afraid to meet them. What I'd have given for a little liquid courage right then, but it wasn't even past lunchtime.

"What brings you two by?" I asked, sitting across from them in a relaxed position, shoulders and neck loose - but I covered my jittery fingers by clasping them together.

They glanced at one another. No doubt, they could see through my tranquil facade. "We heard about Liberty Freight," my dad said. "You can drop the act."

"So, that's why you're here," I said, and sat up in my chair. "You came bearing gifts, but really, you just came to grill me again. Thanks, but I already have things under control."

"Oh, tadpole, why do you have to be so antagonistic?" my mother said. She caressed my hand. "Your father and I came because we worry about you."

"I'm not being antagonistic," I countered. "I'm just tired of being reamed in the ass by Dad."

My dad scoffed. "I haven't said anything."

"Let's get this over with. I have about a thousand things I need to do today."

They looked at each other again. My parents possessed this ability to speak to one another telepathically. Scientists had longed studied their hidden talent, but to no avail. (I'm being hyperbolic, of course.)

I felt like I was going crazy. In fact, I would have felt less crazy spending two weeks in Interspace right then.

My sweet mother finally spoke up. "Little amoeba, your father and I have been talking about this for a long time now and..." She stopped to look at him one more time. "You're twenty-two now, and you haven't had much to show for it. Your brothers and sisters have all either started their own companies or have done superb financially. Your father and I think it's time for you to pursue an alternative career option."

I sat in silence, staring at my hands. My tools. They were what had made me the pilot I was. I looked up at her. "'An alternative career option?' What is that supposed to mean?"

"Son, you need to get your act together," my dad said. "I didn't send you to the Elaro Institute of Aeronautics just to fly cargo ships for a living, hauling shit around the galaxy."

"It's not 'shit'. It's valuable commodities. People like me make it all work. We're the lifeblood of the galaxy."

"But you could be so much more, son. You graduated top of your class. You have talent! Get out there and use it!"

"What am I supposed to do? Liberty went under; Reliant won't hire me; my landlord won't find me another power company or fix the air conditioning, so I've been sweating my gonads off; my best friend is heading offworld; and all this while there's a depression on. Please, enlighten me, O Great One."

"Entrepreneurship."

My insides burst with laughter. I fought back the urge to smirk. The old man was a bastard at times, but he could be funny when he wanted to be. "That's about the funniest thing you've ever said, Pops."

"I'm serious, son. The recovery from this crash is going to take at least a few years. Job markets are flooded with people out of work, and the jobs that are available are few and far between. You'll be better off going out on your own."

"Look, I know you think I have some kind of latent know-how, but I'm a screw-up. I can't run a business." I thought back to my conversation with Jord the other day. All that talk about going after my dreams. How I'd been his impetus to doing that for himself. Yet, here I was, getting lectured by my parents about that very same subject. I really was a hypocrite.

I sighed hard. "I can't even run my life."

My dad got up from the table and reached into his coat. He slapped one whole gold bar on the table. The thud reverberated throughout the walls of my apartment like a shockwave.

"What is this?" I asked.

"That's four-hundred-thousand bitcreds' worth of solid gold," he said and tapped it. "Consider that an investment if you tell me you're going to cut the crap and become a real man. A real Cadel."

I stared at the shimmering block of precious metal, mouth agape, unable to look away. Staring at that much money was like staring into a golden supernova. "H-How a-am I supposed to pay that back if I fail? I'll be indebted to you 'til I die."

"No interest; no paying me back; nothing," he said. "Consider the return-of-investment to be my son getting off his ass."

Next to the gold bar, he slapped a copy of Entrepreneur: The Book. A picture of a much younger version of my dad with his arms crossed was emblazoned on the cover.

I looked at him, then at the gold, and then at the book. "What's the book for?"

"A guideline, so you don't screw it up. There's a reason that book is a bestseller."

This was insane. I couldn't stop looking at the gold bar. I picked it up, and it felt like the weight of a giant boulder in my hands. No, it felt like the weight of the biggest decision of my lifetime. My green face gleamed in the gold bar's smooth, reflective surface.

"So, what's it going to be?" he asked and held out his hand.

I looked my dad straight in the eyes. "I'll do it."

I grasped his hand and shook it.

"I knew you still had some smarts."

My mom clutched my hands and squeezed, shaking them in excitement. "Oh, my little Sai is going to finally be a proper businessman!"

CHAPTER FIVE

The Entrepreneur

After my parents left, for hours on end, I couldn't stop thinking: What have I gotten myself into? The more I thought about starting a business, the more my hands shook. Static built up in my feet as I paced around the living room. My heart did jumping-jacks in my chest, and my brain was trying to sprint a marathon.

I stepped out onto my tiny balcony. I needed some fresh air, despite that it was no cooler outside than it was in the stagnant sauna inside my apartment. Hordes of Anurans marched through the streets on the endless hunt for work. They reminded me of the undead in a horror movie I saw once as a pollywog - stumbling around aimlessly, but when they smelled fresh Anuran meat, they'd descend upon it like a pack of ravenous razorfangs. Except in reality, a job was the meat.

Standing there was a waste of time. I should have been out there amongst them. No you idiot! I thought. That's why you made the deal with the old man in the first place! I knew, deep down, my dad was right. Why fight it? Leaving Anura was my best bet at that point. But, what if I failed? I'd be the only Cadel that was a failure; a family pariah. They'd shun me, just like those poor bastards that got exiled to the wilderness to die. My crime would be not living up to the family name - the ultimate sin in a family full of millionaires.

My anxiety had reached a precipice. I needed to build a barrier before it pushed me over the edge, so I went inside, grabbed a can of Wat's Master Brew, sat on the couch, and turned on the digivision. Ritan City Local News was on, and a pair of sexy anchors discussed the economic crash with a panel of "experts". They rattled on and on in terms that I, quite honestly, did not understand. I heard the word "bubble" thrown around a lot. I understood that. Bubbles popped. Looking at charts with big, red, downward arrows wasn't helping my stress level, so I shut it off.

I went to get another Brew. My dad's book sat on the dining table. Supposedly - according to the old man - it was a bestseller. It must have worked for anyone who had read it. Maybe all I needed was a little guidance, and the fear of embarking on a business venture would fade. I grabbed it and returned to the couch. The binding was thin, and it cracked and popped as handled it. The pages were crisp and had that new-book smell. I opened it to Chapter One: Identifying Your Product and began to read.

Choosing what kind of business to start can be a mentally crippling task when confronted with an innumerable amount of business opportunities. It's important for you, the Entrepreneur, to discover where your passions lay. Do you want to help people by delivering a valuable service? Think of life before mass transportation companies. Poorer consumers could not afford a personal vehicle to get from place to place. But, one day, the Entrepreneur said, "You know what? I bet I could provide cheap, reliable transportation to those without personal vehicles." Thus, a new industry was born, and the Entrepreneur saved the day.

Or perhaps you desire to manufacture a much-needed product. In my previous example, the Entrepreneur transports the masses around in large vehicles capable of bearing tremendous weight. But where did they get these vehicles? Another Entrepreneur designed and manufactured these vehicles and sold them to the transportation company. Is this beginning to make sense?

I nodded and sipped my beer. "Hey, yeah. It kind of is."

Equally important are the skills you bring to the table and whether you are entering a dying industry or a fast-growing and emerging market. Are you a software engineer? Then, perhaps you may develop an operating system that's faster and easier to use. Are you a physician? Until immortality is discovered, people will eternally become ill and die. Open your own private practice.

On the contrary, take my example of the mass transportation company. There are hundreds of these companies today, and the current market is saturated (especially in metropolitan areas). To start one of these companies may be financial suicide. It is up to you, the Entrepreneur, to navigate these uncharted waters and find your niche.

I reflected on my dad's words. My scattered thoughts became puzzle pieces that slowly clicked into place and created a semi-finished picture. I was a pilot. A damn good one. It was about the only thing I was really good at, to be honest. I also knew trade routes and how to fly through Interspace. I needed to figure out what to do with those skills, and what market I could exploit.

I continued reading and reached Chapter Two: Initial Costs.

To start a business, you must invest in the business. There is a saying as old as time: "If one wishes to make money, one must first spend money." It may sound paradoxical, but I assure you, it is true. If the Entrepreneur wishes to pursue an enterprise, they must first acquire the means to pursue it. These means are capital.

How much capital does one need? This is all entirely dependent on what kind of enterprise the Entrepreneur wishes to pursue. Some companies, such as a fishing charter, require a few thousand to purchase a seaworthy vessel and sufficient advertising; whereas a small retail store could need a few hundred-thousand bitcreds or more.

Where does one find capital? The journey of finding start-up funds will be different for each Entrepreneur. As stated above, it is entirely dependent on a set of variables. Does the Entrepreneur have investors who are interested in the success of their business? A promising ROI (Return-on-Investment) may lure potential investors. Perhaps the Entrepreneur is choosing to entirely self-fund. These are things the Entrepreneur must consider intensively.

It must have been the holy book of capitalism; the knowledge my dad had used to build his company from the ground up. The picture became clearer, though it was still an unformed image, like a blob of clay waiting to be molded into a sculpture. It was rewiring parts of my brain I didn't even know I had! I may have been an idiot, but with that book, I felt like I could do this.

But what did I do next? That question still needed answering. It clawed at my brain like a vanar to its prey. Dad's shiny gold bar investment was my capital; I just needed the idea.

Then, it hit me. I leapt for my PCD and started an instachat with Jord.

Me: I'll do it.

I kept my eyes glued to the screen. Minutes passed by, but they felt like hours. I hoped Jord hadn't left Anura yet. He was probably pissed at me and would never come back. I'd let him down.

The PCD vibrated. I'd never picked it up faster before.

Jord: Ur serious? Don't play with me.

Me: Yeah. Didn't leave yet, did you?

Jord: Sum timin. I was leavin tomorrow.

Me: Let's do it. But we need to discuss it.

Jord: Meet me at Tilu's in 1 hour.

Me: You got it.

****

Tilu's was a dive bar Jord and I frequented. It was dimly-lit, cold, and the walls were painted matte black. Some might have considered the place a dump filled with shady people of ill-repute, but Jord and I enjoyed the place for its lax ambiance. No upscale, haughty, rich bastards. Only us little guys. Who was I kidding? The place was a shithole, but the drinks were cheap. And they had Wat's Master Brew on draught. We sat at the bar and ordered the "usual." As regulars, the bartenders knew that meant Wat's Master Brew.

"I have to ask," Jord said before taking a gulp. "What made you change your mind? I didn't think I'd gotten through that big head of yours."

"I got to thinking about what you said the other day," I answered and took a swig myself. No way I was going to tell him how much of a nervous wreck I was, or that it had really been my parents' relentless onslaught that had urged me on. "I thought, Jord's right. No more slaving away for somebody else. I called up my dad about your business idea. He liked it and decided to invest. He gave me a solid gold brick worth four-hundred-thousand bitcreds."

Jord's real eye widened, and his cybernetic eye glowed. "You're screwing with me. He gave you that much?"

I looked around to see if anyone was listening to us. Looked clear - except for the one Human in the corner. He got up from his booth and walked out. Couldn't be too sure he wouldn't rob me of my newfound capital. Not in the current economic climate. I knew that from personal experience. "It's at my apartment. I'll even show it to you."

"This is great. I'm glad you changed your mind, Sai."

"It's my turn," I said. "What exactly did you have in mind for this whole partnership thing?"

Jord finished his beer and ordered another before he replied, "Remember what I said about freelance work?"

I nodded and tried to keep up with him. My belly started to feel bloated, so I burped.

"Nice one. Anyway, there's an 'odd jobs' board on the Underweb. Companies and people post special jobs on it all the time. I figured we can look there for work. Contracts and whatnot."

"The Underweb? I thought that was made up."

"Oh, it's real."

"It sounds shady, Jord-o. Can't we do something more... Upperweb?"

Jord chuckled. "You're an idiot. If you want to make serious money - and I mean serious money - the Underweb's the place to go. People will pay big to get things done quickly and efficiently by specialists."

"Okay, now this really sounds shady. Are you talking about murder and stuff?"

"Relax. I wasn't planning on becoming a hitman. I'm a killer, but even I have standards."

I sighed and took a big gulp of my beer. This was unfamiliar territory. I wasn't afraid of anything after flying through Interspace for a decade. But, the sinking feeling in my gut told me I was about to get into something of questionable legality. "I'll do it. On one condition: No murder; no stealing."

"Sai, look at who you're talking to. I thought you knew me better."

I pressed him. "I'm serious. Do we have a deal?"

He smirked. "Deal."

"Great," I said, relieved. "I guess the next question is: When do we start?"

Jord slapped me on the back with his cybernetic hand. It hurt. He got up from his stool and paid our tab. "I'll call you in the morning. We have a long day tomorrow... partner. Sounds good, doesn't it?"

I hopped down from my barstool and looked up at him. "Sure does."

CHAPTER SIX

Omnigalactic, LLC

A pair of wide, automated, glasteel doors provided the only entrance into the Ritan City Chamber of Commerce. It was wider than it was tall, and compared to the other buildings in the market district, it was quite underwhelming. Jord was a tall bastard, so he had to duck and stay hunched over as we walked in.

The temperature changed from the humid heat outside into a welcoming, air-conditioned chill. A musky mix of colognes and perfumes strangled my windpipe. My boots clicked against the polished marble floors as we strolled toward the check-in desk. We were directed to sit in the waiting area's padded leather seats. I won't lie; I had no idea that place existed, let alone what purpose it served. Something to do with commerce, I guessed.

"What are we doing here?" I asked and paused to take a deep breath. "I can't breathe."

"We're applying for a galactic business license," he answered. "A GBL."

"And what is that?"

"If you want to do any sort of business offworld, you need a GBL. Think of it as a permission slip."

I shook my head. "Why would we need permission? From whom?"

"Probably some kind of galactic trade commission. I dunno. Bunch of people that sit around and make up rules for everybody to follow. Kind of like a government."

Finally, something familiar. "I've heard of those. Never liked the idea of somebody arbitrarily coming up with rules."

"I forget Anura has no government," Jord whispered, rubbing his organic eye.

"What?"

He told me to forget about it. A mustached Human dressed in a suit approached and ushered us over to his dark, wooden desk in the center of a wide room full of them. Plasteel walls curved upward to the domed ceiling.

We engaged in dull, idle chatter with the Human for what felt like twenty minutes. I suppressed the urge to constantly check my PCD for the time. Randy Ulysses was his name, as indicated by his gold nametag. No way it was real gold. That would have been a waste of money.

If we were going to get our partnership off the ground, I'd rather not have had to waste time with that pencil-pusher. At last, the stupid conversation ended.

Randy pulled out a tablet and began tapping away on it. He cleared his throat. "Now, what can I help you two with?"

We looked at one another, unsure who should speak first. Considering Jord actually knew what a GBL was, I let him speak.

"My buddy and I are here to apply for a GBL," Jord said.

"Ah, excellent," Randy began. "I'm going to ask you both a series of questions. This will make sure the process goes as smoothly as possible. First, I need a form of identification from each of you. Just for our records, don't worry. And I'm assuming you are both the owners?"

We nodded and produced our IDs. Randy scanned the IDs and returned them to us. "Now, what sort of business is it?"

We looked at one another again. That was a damn good question. Jord spoke up. "Independent contracting."

"Okay," Randy said and repeated the words as he typed them into his tablet. "Business address?"

"Ah, we don't have that yet," Jord said.

"No? I'm sorry, fellas, but if you don't have a busin-"

"Just put my address," I said. "547 Iteum Street, Apartment 106, Ritan City. Sorry, my associate and I forgot to clear that up."

Jord didn't look upset about my interjection. My gut told me he just wanted to get this over with, too. I won't try to say Jord and I were equally badass, but we were action guys. Outdoorsmen. We didn't enjoy filling out needless forms and documents.

Mister Ulysses, on the other hand, tapped away at that stupid tablet with glee.

A part of me imagined it was all for show - for the customers - but deep down, he was suicidal. Any day now, he was going to shatter like a pane of glass, cutting any who were too close.

Back at Liberty Freight, I'd had a friend in accounting - Huli, a real straight flier. He'd ended up in a mental hospital for a couple weeks. The doctors had told him he'd had a psychotic breakdown. Probably from all the monotony. When he came back to work, I took him out for a beer to get the details. You know, get in his head a little? He was going to blow his brains out. He'd had a gun up to his head when his wife walked in - nice lady, by the way - and tackled him. She'd checked him into the hospital not even an hour later. I shook my head, thinking about it.

Randy nodded. "And how can people reach you? Your contact information?"

"We don't have an official business website or mail address," I said. "But, you can reach me at Sai_Guy5@instamail.web."

"JordPirt@instamail.web," Jord said. He held out his cybernetic hand. "Keep it to a minimum. I get enough trash mail as it is."

Randy gave a fake chuckle - I thought it was fake, anyway – and a toothy smile "Of course, Sir. I know exactly how you feel. Those darn advertisements clutter up the inbox. Next question: How many employees do you currently have?"

"Only us," Jord said.

"Well, that makes this easy for me," Randy said. "Okay, almost finished. But before we finalize your GBL application, I have to go through a series of questions to establish what kind of sub-licenses you'll need."

"Sub-licenses?" I asked. "You're yanking our sticks, Randy."

"Sorry, fellas. Rules are rules. Are you going to sell food?"

"No," we answered in unison.

"How about alcoholic beverages or other substances? Hallucinogens? Opioids? Things like that."

"No."

"Hazardous materials? Things such as chemicals, radioactive materials, biological waste?"

Jord and I looked at one another. I guessed we were thinking the same thing. Jord said, "Its a possibility. Does starship fuel count?"

"Yes, that counts."

"Then, yes."

Randy tapped away again. "Okay. How about firearms?"

"Definitely," Jord said.

"Are you planning on remodeling your business space?"

"No," I answered. "Not any time soon, anyway."

"Will either of you be practicing medicine?"

"No."

"Will you be transporting animals?"

Jord looked at me. He had no more idea than I did. "Uh... maybe?" I said. "Make it a 'yes'."

"How about insurance? Home, vehicle, fire, natural disaster, health, or life insurance?"

I slapped my hand on the table. "No. C'mon, how many more of these stupid questions are there?"

"We've made it to the end, fellas," Randy smiled. "Last question: What's the name of your company?"

Oh, that was a tough one. We hadn't gotten that far. The partnership had been spur-of-the-moment.

I ran through ideas in my head. Jord and Sai's Contracting? No, too bland. Kill-Team Ultra? No, too extreme, and it sounds like a gang. J.S. Extraordinaire? No, sounds like a Human coffee shop, one that Randy would go to. Prestige Galactic Services? Not quite, but I'm getting closer.

Then, it came to me. It was perfect. I could see the logo behind my eyelids.

"Omnigalactic, LLC," I said. It sounded just as good aloud as it did in my head.

"Yeah," Jord said and gave an approving nod.

Randy finished tapping on the tablet and handed it to us. "Fellas, just sign your names at the bottom here, and we will submit your application for approval."

Jord signed with absolutely zero hesitation. The Tresedi warrior was more than ready to get out there and shoot things again. I, on the contrary, hesitated. My finger hovered over the blue-screened tablet, just above the dotted line. My guts were twisted into sailor's knots. This was both the most exciting thing to ever happen to me and the most frightening. I'd seen some horrifying stuff in Interspace - people and ships ripped to shreds - but this felt scarier. This was crazy. This was stupid. What if I didn't sign? I could have stopped this right there and then. Jord would have never spoken to me again. That, I knew in my heart. I would have been back in my apartment, sweating my gonads off, tearing my eyeballs out, searching the web for a new job. My parents would have been more disappointed than they'd ever been before. I'd return to my old life, but worse for it.

I took a deep breath and signed my name.

"Now, we wait for approval. This should take a few minutes."

Minutes passed. A part of me hoped it would be rejected. What was I thinking?

Randy looked up at us with that big fake smile again and held out both hands. "Congratulations! Omnigalactic, LLC is open for business."

We shook his hands. I sighed, unsure whether it was in relief or reluctance. Whatever the truth was, there was no turning back now. I was officially an entrepreneur, just like my dad's book said I would be.

"Now, before I instamail you copies of your GBL and sub-licenses, I'll need you to pay some fees," Randy added, just as we got up from our seats.

"What's the damage?" Jord asked.

"Well, with a processing fee, a convenience charge, and galactic licensing taxes..."

I stopped him. "Whoa, taxes? What are those?"

Randy awkwardly chuckled, as if I were joking.

Jord said, "They are basically charges against a citizen's person or property to fund governments."

"That sounds like theft," I said.

"Just shut up, Sai," Jord said and slapped me on the arm.

"Your total amount is thirty-five-hundred bitcreds."

There went my last paycheck. I would have to hold onto some of the gold money to get myself through another couple months of rent, just in case things took a turn for the worse. Couldn't put all my money in the pot.

Before I could pull out my digiwallet, Jord paid for it. He said, "This is a partnership. I'm going to pull my fair share."

Now that Omnigalactic, LLC was a reality, Randy instamailed our GBL and sub-licenses, then escorted us out of the building. He bid us good luck and farewell but in that phony kind of way.

Jord started walking and messing with his PCD. I jogged a bit to catch up to him. "So, what's next? Where are you going?"

"We're going to do some shopping," he answered. "By the way, nice name. Omnigalactic, LLC. Where'd you come up with that name?"

"It just came to me. Like a prophecy."

"Nice," Jord said. He stopped and looked around. I could see his cybernetic eye whirring and shifting. "Anyway, we're going to get ourselves some weaponry."

"What about the guns we have now?"

Jord scoffed. "Those are kid's toys. We need real firepower if people are going to take us seriously. First impressions are everything."

"We need to stay within budget, though," I said. "I only have the gold bar my dad gave me."

"Remember what I said? I'm going to pull my fair share. The guns are on me. C'mon, I know just the place to go."

****

We arrived in an obscure part of Ritan City aboard the teal tram. Can't say I'd been that way before. It was deep in the bowels of the city. (I use the word 'bowels' intentionally, because it smelled like freshly-excreted urine and feces.) The scent hit me hard as soon as the tram doors opened. My stomach churned at the stench.

Jord hopped off the tram and marched toward what appeared to be a crowded market - though the various tattooed faces giving me strange looks indicated the merchandise sold there was for a different sort of clientele, if you know what I mean. Jord used his sheer size to push through the crowd, while I had to sneak through the gaps in-between.

Before I could ask him where we were going, we reached a flooded alleyway. A drain pipe emptied rainwater - at least, I hoped it was rainwater - down into the alley. My boots splashed through the water as I kept up with Jord. He urged me onward. We were almost there. A homeless Anuran dressed in shabby, stained rags stopped us and begged for money.  What a lowlife, I thought. I can't stand people who don't work. I told him to get a job, but then felt stupid for saying it. I could have been him in a few months. I was him before my dad interfered yesterday.

"This is the place," Jord said as we came upon a discreet door on the side of a building. He rang a buzzer on the wall.

In a few seconds, a raspy voice emitted from a speaker. "What's the password?"

"Exit wounds," Jord answered.

Magnetic locks clicked, and the door slid open. We walked into a surprisingly well-lit room with hardwood flooring. It smelled like a carpenter's shop, which was a nice change from the stench outside.

My mouth dropped to the floor. All along the walls were racks upon racks of weapons. Hundreds of weapons. Big ones, too. How did Jord know about this place?

"Jord!" came the raspy voice from before. It was a bearded Human; a tall one with a portly torso and muscular arms. "How have you been, my man?"

"Been busy," Jord said. "When did you get these floors done?"

"I installed 'em last week. Business has been pretty slow lately. Needed something to do."

"They look good."

The Human looked down at me. "Who's your friend?"

"This is my business partner, Sai Cadel. Sai, this is Marshall Suggs. Best arms dealer this side of the galaxy. We fought together on Ypso in the Nivaran Incursion."

We shook hands. His were big and meaty, which made me feel like a tiny child. "Pleasure to make your acquaintance," I said.

Marshall crossed his arms and looked at Jord. "You in the market for some new guns, my man?"

"Yeah. Point us to the heavy stuff."

"Right over on that wall." Marshall pointed at the wall behind us. "If you need anything else, just holler. I'll be in the back."

I followed Jord over to the wall with the 'heavy stuff' - giant, death-dealing, mechanical monstrosities. I asked Jord if they were illegal weapons, given their sheer size and the discreet location of the weapons shop. He assured me it was all legal. I suppose I'd find out in the days to come.

He picked up what appeared to be a machine gun of some kind. It looked like some of the ones I'd seen in war movies.

"Yes, this'll be just fine," Jord said as he aimed down the sights.

"What is that?" I asked.

"This is a Nivaran-manufactured, assault-class, Mark V gauss gun," Jord answered matter-of-factly. "I used one of these babies during the Hanza Conflict. The central barrel is a multistage, electromagnetic coil that fires ferromagnetic rounds at a rate up to eight-hundred rounds per minute. Not the most accurate weapon at prolonged, high rates of fire, but I've never seen a weapon rip through Hanzan scales like this one. It'll come in handy."

Not that Jord was a dumb guy, but his IQ went up about twenty points whenever he started talking about guns. I figured I'd let him make all the decisions on what weapons to buy. Of course, I'd provide some input and remind him not to go too overboard.

He looked through more of the weapons and found another one he liked. It wasn't as large as the last gun - the Mark V something-something. There was a blue-tinted translucent tube fixed on two handles, each with its own trigger. As far as I could tell, there was no aiming mechanism on it.

"Okay, now, what is that thing?" I asked and tapped the translucent tube.

"Whoa, whoa!" he ripped it away from my finger. "Don't touch that."

"That thing looks like a squirt gun."

"It may look pathetic, but it's nasty. It's the reason I look the way I do."

"Damn, this gun turned you into a cyborg?"

Jord shook his head. "No, idiot. Well, kind of. This was a weapon mounted on Icto mechs during the AI War. Not very effective against vehicles, but deadly to infantry. It's called a cryoflayer. I don't know how it works exactly - Icto are weird bastards - but you press down the two triggers and out comes a stream of liquid-gas that'll crystallize your flesh."

I winced. "How did it happen?"

"It was near the end of the war. We were on Koris, defending the capitol. For months, our position was hit with wave after wave of Nivaran soldiers. Then, the Icto mechs showed up and started blasting us with cryoflayers. Soldiers turned into bloody crystals in an instant. My unit routed. I stayed behind and provided cover fire. When the opportunity presented itself, I made a mad dash to rejoin my unit. A stray bullet hit my leg. I stumbled. An Icto mech was right behind me and fired that freezing gas all over the left side of my body. My skin and muscles atrophied and hardened. Sai, I've been shot, stabbed, bludgeoned, slashed, and nearly blown up. But I've never felt anything more painful than being cryptoflayed in my entire life. I'm buying it."

I nodded like a moron and pretended I wasn't at all phased by that disturbing story. "Just make sure I'm not in front of you whenever you shoot that thing."

He led me around the room and inspected Marshall's inventory. Nothing quite caught his eye like those first two death machines. We meandered over to a section of smaller weapons. I have to admit, none of them looked very intimidating - compared to the cryoflayer and the gauss gun, anyway.

Jord halted and took a pistol off the rack. "Perfect," he said and put it in my hands.

"How come you get the big guns?" I asked.

"One, because I know how to use them," he said. "Two, the recoil alone would send you flying backwards the instant you pulled the trigger. This is the perfect weapon for a little guy like you."

"I'm considered tall for an Anuran," I said. The pistol felt heavy, at the very least. Maybe it shot beams of electricity. "What's the story with this gun?"

"It's a plasma pistol. Fires high-energy, ionized toroids. Causes severe thermal burns to just about anything it touches. A lot of Human troops use these as sidearms. Very reliable and cheap to make."

"So, just a pistol," I said. "That's not very impressive."

"Wait until we go out back and test these babies," Jord said. He grabbed a bunch of accessories from a rotating display behind us and started attaching them to the plasma pistol. "Check this out - add a buttstock, a foregrip, an extended magazine, and switch the firing rate to fully-automatic. Now, you have yourself a submachine gun."

I aimed down the sights and tucked the buttstock into my shoulder. It felt right, like I could shoot up every vanar in the swamps. "I guess this is pretty badass."

"See? I wouldn't do my partner wrong. Hey, grab two more of those and follow me out back."

I grabbed two more of the plasma pistols and followed Jord to the narrow practice range behind the secret gun shop. We set up a series of holotargets at different ranges. Jord went first and chopped them up with the Mark V. The gun hummed like a hedge-trimmer as it fired rounds downrange. He opted not to fire the cryoflayer, though, claiming the coolant was extremely rare. He said we would save it for 'special occasions'.

Next up, I tested the plasma pistol. Like a knife against a wood cutting board, the gun popped with each toroid round. Although the holotargets remained in one piece, they were riddled with ring-shaped, thermal burns. I was starting to really like this weapon.

Jord checked out the merchandise with Marshall. Our grand total was twenty-thousand bitcreds. Ouch. I could hear Jord's digiwallet crying from where I stood. But, Marshall said he'd give Jord a 'loyal customer' discount and throw in some free holsters. Great! We were saving money somehow, some way, I guessed.

I took down his contact information and told him he was now Omnigalactic's official ordnance supplier. He gladly accepted. We left his shop and returned to the flooded alleyway.

"Where to next?" I asked.

"We need a ship, don't we?" Jord said.

I couldn't believe it. My very own ship. My dream was about to come true.

****

Once we passed through what I would now call the 'shadow market', I was beginning to worry the bio-waste smells were sticking to my clothing, especially my bomber jacket. It might take some convincing for Jord to let me use his drycleaner unit back at his apartment. He wasn't opposed to maintaining a certain level of cleanliness by any means; he was just very protective of his own things. A few years back, I'd borrowed his food-dehydrator for the rainy season. It was forecast to be a harsh one - lots of flooding, property damage, and power outages. Needless to say, it broke on me. Not my fault the thing was a faulty piece of equipment. Since then, he'd never let me borrow anything else.

Strangled alleys and thick crowds gave way to a poorly-paved flat of asphalt. Up ahead was a hill of scrap and old, dinged-up vehicles surrounded by a rusty, sheet-metal barricade. What was the point of putting a wall around a bunch of junk? An uneasy feeling settled into my stomach. No way Jord was thinking about purchasing a rusted-out hunk of junk from this place.

We approached what I assumed was the main entrance of the junkyard. A ten-foot-tall, wrought-iron gate opened via motion sensor, and we walked in.

A wrinkled, sun-soaked Anuran junker dressed in greasy gym sweats greeted us. He was old. He must have been seventy; well past the average Anuran lifespan. He twirled a set of keys with one hand and smoked a vaporizer with the other.

"Whaddaya want?" he asked and started hacking his lungs up. "And why do ya have all them guns? Plannin' on robbin' me?"

"We're interested in purchasing a starship," Jord said. "Have any sitting around?"

"What's wrong with ya face?" the junker asked between coughs.

"What's wrong with your lungs?" Jord countered. "We're here to do business, not kick your ass, old-timer."

The junker came close and eyed Jord up and down. "I don't do business with cyborgs. Get outta here before I shoot ya."

"What about with me?" I stepped in. The junker must not have seen me. His eyes were cloudy and opaque. That's when I got it - he was one of those weird Naturalists. People who opposed cybernetics when they first became mainstream about a hundred years earlier.

"A fellow Naturalist," I added.

Jord shot me a look. I winked to signal him to play along. Jord smirked and gave a subtle nod.

The junker looked over and conducted an ocular pat-down on me, as well. When he looked content, he said, "Ya keep this walkin' computer as company? Ya not a Naturalist."

"Just because I conduct business with him doesn't mean I have to share meals with him," I said. "My only friend is money."

"I hear that," the junker said. "Money won't leave ya like my ex-wife did. That ol' slag took nearly everythin' I owned, except this place. Whaddaya want, er..."

"Cadel. And you are?"

"Name's Valo."

"Valo. I'm looking for a starship."

"Sure," Valo said. He turned around and started hobbling toward the hill of scrap. "Follow me."

Jord leaned in close and whispered, "Nice one. I didn't know guys like him still existed."

I chuckled. "Just look at him. He probably shits dust."

We followed Valo into the junkyard. We passed countless vehicles, aircraft, and starships, all in various conditions. Most, if not all, did not look spaceworthy. Some even looked like they would never leave the ground again.

I told Valo they were not what we were interested in and asked if he had anything in better condition. He harrumphed, mumbled something about being busy, and kept walking.

Oh please, was a potential paying customer really that much of an inconvenience? My worries from earlier intensified. I didn't think we were going to find anything worth the money. But, then again, where else were we going to find a starship at a reduced price? If we went to a dealership downtown, we'd pay up the ass.

"I don't show this one to too many folks," Valo said as he led us around a wide, curved path dividing the hills of scrap. "But, I bought this old bird from a flash auction about... ten years back? Nivaran law enforcement seized it from a Black Nova smugglin' ring."

Nestled between two heaps of junk was a dusty, narrow, rectangular-shaped starship with axial, multi-finned, twin engines. A third, much larger engine was fixed on the rear of the ship, and at the top was a turret, sporting a single cannon. I could tell it was an older ship, due to its boxy shape. Most of the newer vessels went for a sleeker look.

"What is it?" I asked.

"I think the auctioneer said it was a... uh... oh, what was the name of it again? Some kind of Celyrian model."

"That's a Celyrian All-Atmospheric Defense Vessel!" Jord yelled. He looked genuinely excited. "I haven't seen one of those in fifty years!"

"Is that a good thing?" I asked. "It looks like its best days are behind it."

"It's not very fast or maneuverable, but they can go just about anywhere."

"How so?"

"This thing can go into space, into the air, and even underwater," Jord explained. "And, unless I'm blind, that's a railgun on top."

I walked closer and inspected the ship. Was a fifty-year-old ship even spaceworthy? I had to admit, the ship was the best-looking one in the whole junkyard. The railgun - if it worked - would have been a nice defensive countermeasure for Interspace travel. It was near-suicidal to fly through Interspace without protection, whether it was thick armor or weapons. You'd end up like those people in the ship I saw on the way back to Anura.

I walked back over to Valo, who was busy fighting a phlegm-ridden cough. "Say, Valo, what are the chances I could test-drive it?"

He spit out a giant wad of mucus and snorted like a farm animal. Sheesh, that guy was disgusting. "That depends on if ya interested in buyin' it."

"How much do you want for it?" I asked.

Valo looked up to the sky as if the answer was in the clouds. He mumbled. It sounded like he was doing some mental math. He finally looked back down at me. "Five-hundred thousand."

I shook my head. "No way, not for that piece of junk. Besides, you've had it for ten years with no buyers. You must be desperate to get it off your hands."

"Ya damn idiot. Look around. This is a junkyard. Most of it is crap folks get rid of! Five-hundred thousand."

"Tell you what," I said. "You let me take this thing out for a spin at least; then, we'll talk. I have to know if she still flies."

Valo's head bobbed back and forth. "Well... fine. I suppose that's reasonable. Only five minutes, though. And I go with ya. Leave them guns here with your computer buddy."

I nodded. "You got it. Now, let's get aboard."

Valo typed a four-digit code into a keypad at the bottom of the starship. "Nine, zero, three, seven," he said before hacking again.

There was an internal rumbling, and the ship shook violently. A boarding ramp hissed as it came down from underneath, kicking up a cloud of dirt as it slammed to the ground. My boots clanked against the metal steps of the ramp. Orange lights flickered and came to life, illuminating the narrow interior. It was just wide enough for us to walk side by side to the fore of the ship. We reached the cockpit, which had a single captain's chair at the controls. It was leather. I hated leather seats. They made my ass sweat.

Regardless, I sat in it and flicked the ignition switch. There was a series of tinny clicks. The ship shook again, rocking me in the chair. The engines roared like a beast freshly woken from hibernation, then settled to a steady growl. I strapped myself into the restraints, took the control stick in my hand, engaged the prograde thrust, and took us into the air. Through the glasteel viewing window, I could see Jord shrink to the size of an insect. The sprawling Ritan City looked like a model set from up there. I engaged in some test maneuvers and hoped the engines wouldn't give out, causing me to tumble to an explosive death. The engines roared as I cut sharp turns, did a few loops, and barrel-rolled. Valo cursed and held onto my chair with a vice-like grip. Pretty strong for an old guy.

"All right, that's enough!" he shouted. "Take her back in!"

I smirked. I hadn't been able to fly like that since the academy. What had I been missing out on for the last ten years? I pressed forward on the stick and put us into a nosedive. Oh, how Valo did not like that. The engines screamed as we neared the surface, and I cut the prograde and slammed on the retrograde thrust. Valo fell to the floor with a hard, metallic thump and cursed. Looked like I'd have to install some more safety harnesses.

"There; she flies!" he shouted. "Now, do ya want it or not? If ya don't, then get off my property!"

I shut off the engines. "She flies, but she needs some love. A lot of love. How about you come down on the price? Two hundred."

"Ha! Ya tryin' to rob me? Four-hundred-and-fifty."

"You're crushing my gonads, Valo. I need to put at least fifty-thousand worth of replacement parts in her. Three-hundred." I might have lied a bit about the repair cost. But, I had to drive the price down somehow.

"Four-hundred," he said. "No lower."

That would leave nothing left of my dad's investment, and nothing for repairs. Not to mention we'd already be scrambling for money. Omnigalactic would be off to a horrible, moneyless start. There had to be a way to talk this guy down. We'd gotten lucky finding the starship. It was perfect. Yeah, a little rough and a little dusty, but she flew pretty good for an old bird. She might have been our only option at that point.

I pulled out the block of gold from my jacket, held it in front of his eyes, and wiggled it. He shielded his eyes from the glare.

"You see this?" I said. "This is worth four-hundred thousand in bitcreds. A great hedge against inflation. So, let's make a deal. I'll give you half this bar right now, and the other half in six-months' time, plus ten-percent interest. You'll get the other two-hundred thousand and then some."

"How do I know ya won't just take the ship and run?"

"You have the ship's serial number, right? Take that half gold bar and if we don't pay you the other half, then hire some hitmen to track us down, kill us, and take the ship back to you. You'll get your ship back like nothing happened."

Valo looked up again, deep in thought. It looked like I'd gotten to him. My face didn't show it, but my heart was racing. This was it. His eyes met mine. He held out a hand. "Ya got a deal."

I sighed in relief and shook his hand. I'd just secured Omnigalactic's first starship.

"Now," he said. "Let's head over to my shop and cut that gold bar in half."

I followed him out. Jord jogged up to me and pulled me aside. "That was some flying, bud!" he said.

I couldn't help but smirk. "Yeah. I'm a little rusty, though."

"So, what's the damage? Did you talk him down?"

"Yes and no."

He shrugged. "What do you mean?"

"I told him we'd pay half now, then half later, plus interest."

"Define 'later' and 'plus interest'."

"Ten percent, six months later."

Jord leaned in so close to my face, I could smell his morning breath, which caused me to question whether I'd brushed my teeth that morning. "And if we don't make the deadline?"

I kicked a piece of rusted scrap with my boot. "What would two-hundred-thousand bitcreds get you for a hit job?"

"Five or six younger, much deadlier versions of me," Jord said with the bluntness of a hammer.

"Wow, really?"

Jord sighed and slapped me on the back with that cybernetic hand. "You did what you had to. But, we have a ship. Let's hope we can pay him back in six months."

"Yeah..."

CHAPTER SEVEN

Money, the Lifeblood

I sat in the cockpit of the Lady Luna with my feet kicked up on the controls. Yes, Lady Luna. At my urging, since the ship was of Celyrian design, it should have been given a Celyrian name. She should have had a dignified name like the Ignys or something. But, Jord insisted it should be named after a high-class Human prostitute he'd once 'loved'. Apparently, she was always there for him between jobs. Lady Luna knew how to cure his ails and relieve his stress. Those were his exact words. I explained to him that prostitutes only gave him the time of day because he paid them to do so. After a futile, hour-long debate, I gave up. I dunno, maybe it would grow on me.

Over the past three days, Jord and I had packed a month's worth of air-sealed food. Mainly for me, since Tresedi hardly ate. Their metabolisms were so slow, they could gain weight just from eating a thousand calories in a single week. It came from evolving on their harsh, desert homeworld. We also packed a month's worth of clothing, my personal movie collection for downtime, a tool set (because the Pantheon knew, that ship was going to need some fixing), the guns, and a few cases of Wat's Master Brew. We parked the Lady Luna in a patch of hard soil a ways from Ritan City, just to avoid paying for docking and storage fees.

We had nothing to do that day, so I stared at the yellow nunu birds and the blue nunu birds battling it out in a territory war. As I watched a blue one stab a yellow one with its pointy beak, I got to thinking. We had the GBL license, the guns, and the ship. Now, we needed to start bringing in the income. How were we supposed to do that? I had some ideas, but after botching the interview with Reliant Shipping, I wasn't feeling too confident about landing some clients. That was basically the same thing as a job interview. Except, this time, it wasn't just for my measly paycheck. It was for my business. Anxiety set in, so I began to read Chapter Three: Money, the Lifeblood. My old man would help me out.

One of the most important — if not the most important — resource a business requires to survive is money. It sounds stupidly simple — if not elementary — but one would be surprised to discover how many forget this concept. Money can be spent on an immaculate, user-friendly website; the sales floor can be optimally designed for customer traffic and convenience; or, perhaps, it is spent on a fancy dinner to lure potential clients. All of these are smart tactics to improve the business, but where is all this money coming from? As we learned in the last chapter, capital is vital to start the business. In this chapter, we will discuss how to secure that capital.

Customer, patron, client — all of these are fundamentally the same. Since they have what you desire — money — you must attract them to you. In the volatile sea of the marketplace, the Entrepreneur must stand out. Advertising! Promotion! These are the keys. The oldest form of advertisement is word-of-mouth. If a customer enjoys their experience using your service or product, they will tell everyone with an open ear. However, one must attract these customers using more advanced tactics.

With the speed and accessibility of the Web, it has never been easier for both customers and businesses to interact. Thus, a website has become the standard means by which Entrepreneurs 'get their name out there'. Think of it as a galaxy-spanning sign that everyone can see.

I nodded. Omnigalactic needed to get its name out there. I shook my head. Damn it, neither of us know anything about Web design. I flew things. Jord shot things. I couldn't say I wanted to halve the gold bar any further, and — like my dad wrote — we needed money coming in.

I hopped out of my chair and walked down the Lady Luna's main corridor. Jord stood at a workbench, polishing and caressing our newly-purchased weapons. "A gun only shoots as good as you treat it," he'd told me once.

He looked over at me but continued to polish the weapons. "Hey, bud. You look worried. What's up?"

"We need money," I said and tapped the gold bar in my pocket. "I may have smooth-talked Valo into selling us this ship. But what if we don't pay him back, and he comes for us? Six months goes by quick."

Jord stopped and turned to me. "Relax. I had this all figured out beforehand."

"You did? Do you have some assassin friends to back us up?"

"No, moron. The money part."

We stood in silence for a few seconds. "How so?"

"Follow me," he said and started walking toward the crew cabin at the rear of the ship.

He powered up the computer next to a semi-circular bench. I sat next to him. He tapped away at the screen and swiped through a number of windows. Too many to count. The more windows he went through, the shadier they became, until he reached a site that read, in bold, purple font: Inquiries. He tapped on it, and a black page crammed with multicolored links popped up.

"Remember when I told you about the Underweb?" he asked.

I nodded.

He pointed at the screen. "This is it."

"It looks... complicated," I said and stared at the screen. "It's a bunch of random numbers and letters. How does it work?"

"Well, everything is encrypted. Sure, it all looks complicated. But if you have a decryption key - like me - all you have to do is enter it into that little box in the top-right corner, and it will decrypt all the links."

"How do you get a decryption key?" I asked.

He cocked his head to the side and eyed me up and down. "Let's just say, you have to go through the proper channels. Like, I know a guy who knows a guy who has a cousin who may or may not sell them."

"This still sounds shady, Jord-o. But carry on."

"You find a job you're interested in, select it, and apply. It's that easy. When you apply for a job, you leave a encryption key for the employer to contact you. That way, it's secure — since there's government spooks on here all the time."

"That's very reassuring."

"Here, check this out," Jord said and entered his decryption key. All the links morphed into sentences. "Like magic."

"Where do we even start? There's probably a thousand jobs on this page alone."

Jord swiped down the page until he found a job and tapped on it. "'Melville Needs Pest Control. To whom it may concern, we are a research facility located on Harland in the Koris Sector. Recently, a member of an unknown species has disrupted our efforts here. Many staff members have been severely injured or killed. We are offering fifty-thousand bitcreds upon completion. Our research is extremely vital, and until this problem is addressed, we cannot commit to the project fully. All inquires may contact Doctor Ellen Rupert at RupertE@university.of.Harland.edu.' Hey, this is right up our alley."

I chuckled. "What part of 'severely injured or killed' did you not understand? I think we should go with something a little smaller and less dangerous."

"No way. This is perfect for us."

"And an unknown species? We have no idea what this thing is."

"You flew through Interspace for a living, and now, you're worried about danger? I've done a hundred jobs like this. It always goes the same way: A dangerous animal kills a few civilians; people get scared; people contact me; I show up; it dies; I get paid."

The anxiety kicked in again. I looked at Jord, then at the screen, then back at Jord. "I dunno. Still sounds dangerous."

"Sai, this is no different than any other hunt we've been on. Think of it like that."

"All right, let's apply." I sighed. "We need the money."

Jord left a decryption key for them to contact us and returned to the main page. Something caught his attention. "Hey, look at this: 'Need Transportation to Harland. I require immediate, expeditious transportation to Harland in the Koris Sector. Offer: One-thousand bitcreds. Serious inquiries only. ProfDG@instamail.web.' You thinking what I'm thinking?"

"Knock out two jobs at once," I said.

"Yeah. Let's apply for this one, too."

I stood up and stretched my back. I needed to stay limber, now that I was getting back to work — even if I wasn't too confident about the job. "Their address — it might be a professor. You think they're headed to Melville?"

"Could be." Jord finished the inquiry and lay back on the bench. "But does this person know about the pest problem?"

I scratched my head. "Maybe they've been hired to help out with the research. You know, replace the ones they lost?"

"Could be."

"You know what's weird to me? Why would a bunch of scientists put a job on the Underweb?"

Jord shrugged. "Maybe it's top-secret research, and they don't want anyone else know about it? Corporations do this kind of stuff all the time."

"But, it's not a private company. The instamail address is from an academic."

"Who cares? As long as we get paid."

"What if we get there, and they're bringing dead people back to life? Or swapping body parts from one alien species to another? Or mind control?"

Jord snickered. "Lay off the horror movies a bit."

Maybe he was right. At that point, we didn't have much room to be moral arbiters. We needed work. "Well, I guess now, we wait for them to contact us."

"Yeah," Jord said.

I looked around at the crew cabin. "I'm going to fix some things up in the meantime. Make sure she's up to speed for her first Interspace jump in ten years, you know? Want to help?"

Jord sat upright. "Sure. I'll grab the beer."

****

After a few beers, and a couple hundred turns of a socket wrench, I couldn't help but think about the nature of machines and how they served us as tools. They took all sorts of forms: Ships, computers, droids, guns, and so on. I looked over at Jord's cybernetic arm and leg, whirring as he moved around the crew cabin; they even gave people a second chance. But what occupied the most of this thought was the AI War.

"Hey, Jord," I said as I screwed an electrical panel back onto the floor. "What exactly was the AI War about?"

Jord recoiled as if he wasn't sure what I was asking. "Huh? What do you mean?"

"You were a man on the ground. You had a stake in the fight. What was it about?"

He snickered. "You miss that lecture in history class?"

"Man, you are funny. Seriously, tell me."

"For starters, I didn't have a 'stake in the fight'," he began and popped open another beer.

"You had a reason to pick the Pro-Wyn side," I pointed out.

"Only because they paid more than the other side. Don't get me wrong; the Wyn were good guys - if a bit self-righteous - but ultimately, they were in the wrong."

I took a sip of my beer and sat down. "Why do you say that?"

"Have you ever met one?" he asked as he sat down next to me. "They can't go five minutes without talking about how great they are."

I shook my head. "They were gone thirty years before my parents even thought about having kids. Heck, my parents weren't even born yet."

Jord slouched down, kicked his feet up, shook his head, and took a swig. "Fifty years - has it really been that long? I was so young and in top form. Where should I start?"

"I dunno. Just give me the nuts and bolts of it."

He nodded and took a deep, long breath. "If you ask me, the war was about dominance."

I chuckled. "Every war's about dominance in some form or another, idiot. Give me something more philosophical."

He pointed to himself with his cyborg hand. "I shoot guns for a living. Do I look like the brainy type to you? Anyway, I don't mean dominance in the conventional way - power, control, authority. I mean..." He paused for a second or two and looked up, then back down at me. "You know, when you're really good at something, then somebody comes along and does it better than you? Then, you get pissed off and envious?"

I let out a sweet, gutty belch. "Yeah. Reminds me of my sister, Yulai. I used to play the bulu when I was a little older than a pollywog. I had the best rhythm, Jord. No kidding. I won a talent show once. But, of course, my asshole of a sister saw me and said, she's going to play bulu, too. I laughed it off at the time, but she got really good really quick. By the end of the year, she was shredding on it. I couldn't stand her being better than me, so I quit."

"Wow, that must've felt terrible," he said with oozing sarcasm. "Mention that to your psychiatrist next time."

I socked him in the arm. "Finish your story, jerk."

He continued. "Right. 'Dominance' as in 'being the best at something'. The Wyn had long been the masters of Interspace travel. Hell, they invented it. That is, until the Icto came along. Like your sister. They said, 'Hey, we want to master Interspace travel, too' and designed an AI to study the Wyn Gates. Eventually, they built one of their own."

What? I couldn't believe it. Somebody had actually figured out how the technology worked? "That explains things. I always thought it was about the ethics of artificial intelligence or something."

He pointed at me. "It was, but not at first. In my opinion, both sides had their share of propaganda. The Pro-Wyn made it about how scary and dangerous AI were, so they had an excuse to attack the Icto. And the Anti-Wyn made it about combating galactic tyranny. You know how the rest of it goes. Did that answer your question?"

I nodded. "I still wonder what happened to them."

"Who, the Wyn? They went into exile."

"That's not what I heard."

"And what is that?"

I cleared my throat. "They went into Interspace and never returned."

Jord's clutched his guts as he burst with laughter. "You don't seriously believe that," he said, then continued to laugh at me.

"It's the only scenario that makes sense."

He regained his composure, but I could tell he was fighting back a smirk. "How is that? Think about what you just said. If they went into Interspace, they'd have all gone insane and killed each other. You've been watching too many of those conspiracy shows, bud."

I sliced at him with a counterattack. "Then, where did their homeworld go, hmm?"

"They probably blew it up to hide all their top-secret technology. You have to pre-install a self-destruct mechanism, just in case a starship with experimental engines, weapons, or stealth tech crashes on enemy soil. That's just common sense."

"Very interesting. How come there were no signs of debris? Not even carbon molecules. How do you explain that?"

He looked around the room, as if searching for an answer. "I dunno. Maybe they used a disintegrator bomb."

"The size of a freaking planet? C'mon, Jord."

"Who cares?" he asked, then stood up and stretched. "I'm going to close my eyes for a bit. If I get up, I'll look for some more jobs."

He slapped me on the shoulder with his cyborg hand. I prematurely winced, expecting it to hurt, but it didn't.

"All right," I said. "I think I'll do the same. All this starting-out stuff is hard work."

He winked with his organic eye. "But, it's for the best," he said as he walked out of the crew cabin.

I nodded and lay down on the bench, stretching my legs out as far as I could. Did Jord really think I was crazy for believing the Wyn conspiracy theories? They couldn't be out of the realm of possibility, right? Thoughts rattled around in my head like a rock in a tin can, until I slowly, gently fell asleep.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Founder and CEO

"Sai, wake up!"

My face was smashed into the flat pillow of my cot. It was all leather, making the skin of my face peel off as I woke. I could feel lines indented all over my forehead and cheeks with my fingers. I made a mental note to refurnish the cots in the crew cabin.

Jord grabbed my shoulder and violently shook me. "Wake up!"

I wriggled myself free from his cyborg strength. "I'm up! Stop shaking me. You're going to give me a headache."

"We got a hit on the Melville job," he said. "They want to interview us."

My heart jumped as I turned around to face Jord. "Really? When?"

"Right now. Go wipe your face or something real quick. Maybe put on a nice shirt. You look like shit."

I rubbed the crust from my eyes. "What about you? Why don't you talk to them?"

"Look at me," he said. "The minute they see me, they'll cut the connection. If we were talking to someone who wants a hitman, I'd do it. But if you're right about these being university types, I'll scare them away. You have to be the face, Sai."

"And that is supposed to mean what?" I asked and hopped down from the cot. I stretched hard. Blood rushed to my head, giving me a brief moment of intense vertigo.

"The face!" he shouted. "The boss! The main person in charge!"

I waved my hand. "No way. I botched my interview with Reliant. I'll screw this up, too. And aren't you supposed to be the confident, ex-mercenary, killer guy? You do it."

"Relax, I'll coach you from off-camera. I'll make you sound like it's just another day at the office."

I cursed and went to the small, stuffy hygiene chamber to wash my face.

"Hurry up!" he yelled. "I told them five minutes!"

Mist sprayed upward and filled the chamber. I scrubbed all over my face and body, hopped out, and dried myself off like a frantic maniac. Jord yelled out that there were two minutes left. Naked, I sprinted to the drawers underneath my cot, searched for my semi-formal, business-casual, brown shirt, and put it on.

"Brown?" Jord said. "You look like a small tree with eyes."

"I like Earth tones," I said, digging for a pair of pants.

"No time for pants. Get in front of the camera."

"But—"

"Just move the camera, so they won't see below your waist!"

Bare-assed, I ran to the bench in front of the computer screen. A small window in the bottom-right corner displayed our video feed, so I adjusted the zoom and angle. My heart leapt into my throat, and my guts twisted into knots like a ball of gnarled rope. A prompt reading "INCOMING CALL" flickered on the blank, black screen in large, white letters. I breathed in deeply, exhaled, then tapped the blue checkmark to accept the call.

An image of a golden-haired, brown-eyed, Human woman dressed in a white lab coat appeared. She was outside; intense sunbeams illuminated the tropical trees and white sand behind her. Although I couldn't see an ocean, I could hear faintly crashing waves offscreen. The woman's hair was frizzy, but mostly rested on her shoulders. Oh no, I was about to talk to someone who was probably three times as smart as me. I felt my stomach knots tighten even more.

The woman shielded her eyes from the sun. "Hello? Can you hear me?"

I cleared my throat. "Yes, Ma'am. I can hear you. Can you hear me?"

She smiled. "Oh, thank goodness! Our signal can be spotty sometimes. Is this Omnigalactic?"

I won't lie; the company's name sounded good when said by another person. "Yes, indeed. My name is—"

I glanced over at Jord, who was waving his arms for my attention. He whispered, "Tell her you're the Founder and CEO."

"Sorry, my name is Sai Cadel. I'm the Founder and CEO."

Jord smirked and gave me a thumbs-up.

"Thank you so much for reaching out to us, Mister Cadel," she said and moved a stray, golden lock of hair from her eyes. "I'm Doctor Ellen Rupert. It's a long story, but I'm the acting 'person-in-charge', since our lead researcher unfortunately passed away."

"That's very tragic, Doctor Rupert. But, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

Jord gave me another thumbs-up and nodded in an exaggerated manner, as if I couldn't understand what a thumbs-up meant. If it weren't for me being on camera, I'd have called him an idiot.

"So, Mister Cadel, obviously, you read my message. What sort of work does your business do?"

Oh no, she threw a wrench into my gears. I didn't know what to say. Jord was waving his arms again, so I glanced over but tried not to be obvious. "Independent contracting. Threat liquidation, transportation, armed security, and escort services, things like that."

I looked back to the screen. Beads of sweat formed on my forehead and cheeks. "We offer a wide variety of services, such as threat liquidation, transportation, armed security, armed escort, and stuff."

I knew when I said "and stuff" that I'd sounded stupid. Jord shook his head and mouthed the words: No, man.

"You're not... hitmen, are you?" Doctor Rupert asked. She sounded concerned.

I knew I had to smooth it over. "No, no, Doctor. You misunderstand; we don't deal in illegal activity. 'Threat liquidation' is just trade terminology."

"Good save," Jord whispered.

"Oh, thank goodness. You had me worried for a moment. Now, does your company deal with handling dangerous animals often?"

I looked over at Jord. He wasn't there. He'd vanished. I scanned the crew cabin for him. He was talking to someone on his PCD. Damn it! I couldn't call for him. I'd blow the whole interview! We'd look like complete amateurs. I had to pull something out of my ass, and quick.

"Yes, Ma'am. All the time. In fact, you'd be surprised how many of those requests we get in a month."

"That is such good news!" she said with a big smile. "When can you arrive? Our research here is very important. We haven't been able to return to the ruins since the attacks."

Ruins? Was it some kind of archaeological research? I decided not to ask about it. "We're based out of Anura, and we need to ensure we are properly equipped for the job. I'd estimate a few days at the most."

"Fantastic!"

"Now, I do have a question for you, Doctor. What kind of animal is this? What do you know about it?"

She frowned a little. "Unfortunately, not much. All we know is that it's aquatic. I wish I could tell you more, but everyone who has seen it has either died or is in critical condition. Will that be a problem? I hope not. You sound like the ones for the job."

Jord ended his conversation and returned his original spot. He had a sinister grin and gave me a double thumbs-up. "We got it."

I should have returned my focus to Doctor Rupert, but I mistakenly kept my eyes fixated on Jord. "No, Ma'am, not a problem at all."

"Excellent! I'll instamail a contract to you! See you soon!"

She ended the call before I could even say goodbye. That was it. We were going to Melville.

"We got the job?" Jord asked.

I nodded. "Told her we'd be there in a week, tops. Who was that?"

"It was the professor guy," Jord answered. "He's at the Hub. Said he wants to meet with us as soon as possible."

"Wait, he wants to meet us in person? Why?"

"I'm not a telepath. Those were his conditions."

While I put a pair of work trousers on and changed my shirt to something looser, I hoped it wasn't some sort of robbery set-up. I'd heard stories about people who posted web advertisements and ended up getting murdered. Although, I'd have Jord with me. Nobody messed with me when he was around. That made my nerves subside.

"Guess we better get moving," I said. "To the Hub?"

"You bet. Let's get off this stinkin' swamp."

I socked him in the arm for insulting my beautiful homeworld, then put on my bomber jacket and headed to the cockpit. I flicked the ignition switch, and the Lady Luna rumbled and roared to life. The nunu birds in the distance fluttered their wings and flew away. I took one last look out the viewing window at Ritan City.

"So long, home," I said and set the prograde thrusters to max speed, sending the Lady Luna screaming into the atmosphere.

CHAPTER NINE

Beyond Your Comprehension

The Galactic Transit Hub was all that its name implied: The main travel center, where all the possible routes met at a focal point. Thousands of Wyn Gates surrounded a massive space station, simply named, 'The Hub'. It was circular in shape, like a tiny moon or planetoid, and isolated in the cold vacuum of space, with an outer ring acting as a stardock. From the outer ring, hundreds of tubes housed the tunnel lifts. For about a dozen lightyears in all directions, there were no planets or stars. Why the Wyn built a station in such an uninhabitable place, nobody knew.

But, everyone did know about the Hub. Even little kids. Not only was it integral to galactic travel, but the Galactic Council met there. I don't know exactly what they did; only that leaders from all over met up to discuss boring topics like trade, and to declare wars and whatnot. Somebody told me once that two million people were crammed inside it, like a metropolis in space. Too packed for my tastes. No way I could have lived there long-term. I just liked the place because I could refuel, relax between jumps, and find some neat stuff to buy, like my jacket.

As I neared the outer ring, a klaxon howled behind me. My head rang as it pierced my earholes. I made a mental note to lower the volume when I had some downtime. That was surely at a decibel that caused permanent hearing loss. A buttery smooth, presumably male voice came from the tinny speakers on my control console. I flicked the switch to accept the transmission.

"Unidentified vessel, please state your name and ship serial number," the voice said.

"Captain Sai Cadel," I answered and reached for the Lady Luna's documentation in my pocket. "Serial number... V7591-B24668."

"One moment, please."

I waited for what felt like five minutes. If I was remembering correctly, the process had taken just as long the last time I was there.

"Captain Cadel, you are free to land at Dock Number 901. Cost of admission is fifty bitcreds per day. The total will be charged per diem to a temporary account. Please register your temporary account at the kiosk on your way out of the dock. Failure to register your temporary account will result in the seizure of your vessel. Thank you, and enjoy your stay."

I engaged the route tracker and set the coordinates for Dock 901. Greenish-yellow rings outlined my path toward the stardock. Hundreds of ships, both big and small, flew in and out of it like insects around a hive. They reminded me of the lakala bugs back home. Vicious little suckers. They'd swarm around you and lay thousands of eggs under your skin in mere seconds. In a few days, they'd hatch, and the larva would eat their way out, leaving you looking like an unpaid extra on the set of a zombie movie.

As I approached, Dock 901's single door slid open to reveal a landing pad, illuminated with yellow flashing lights that seemed to scream, "Land here, stupid!" I engaged the landing gear and cut the prograde thrusters. The Lady Luna drifted into the dock, and I set the retrograde thrusters to slow us down to a crawl. When it felt like I was right over the landing pad, I cut the retrograde and set us down. With a jerk, the ship landed, and the dock re-pressurized with air, creating a loud, hissing noise.

I heard Jord's cybernetic leg clanking as he walked into the cockpit. I swiveled around in my chair. He was clutching two plasma pistols. "Ready?" he asked and held one out for me to take.

"Sorry, Jord-o," I said. "Firearms aren't permitted on the station."

"What? You're kidding. When did that happen?"

"A couple years ago. I don't remember why, but they had signs posted everywhere. Why do you want to bring those, anyway? You planning on shooting somebody?"

"You never know," Jord said. "A gun is the only thing that's ever kept me alive."

"This place is pretty safe. I've never had a bad experience here."

"'Safe'? Coming from the guy who was too scared to even leave his crap job?"

I pointed at him. "I didn't decide to go into business with you just to start shooting at everyone who gives us a dirty look. We're trying to land some clients. Now, leave the damn guns here."

Jord stared at me. His cybernetic eye whirred as it focused and adjusted. "Fine."

He tossed the plasma pistols on the cockpit control console.

I hopped down from my seat. "Don't worry; you'll get to shoot at something in no time."

We left the Lady Luna and registered for our temporary account at the kiosk at the end of the dock. According to the kiosk, we had already been charged fifty bitcreds. What a bunch of cheap bastards. They used to only charge for each full day. Whatever. If things went as planned, we'd have fifty-thousand bitcreds in the company coffers, and we'd be off to a good start.

We left the dock through a single, pressurized, steel door and entered a sharply-curved hallway. It smelled of strong cleaning chemicals. When I looked to my right, there was a custodial droid, scrubbing the floors with a spinning mop. At least they were still keeping up with the place.

Up ahead and around the corner was an elevator that took us down to the tunnel lifts. From there, we could take one of them to the station proper. The narrow, outer ring was crowded with all sorts of people, but mostly Anurans, Humans, and the freaky, four-armed Celyrians with their weird, nearly translucent skin — they were nicknamed "ghosties". I won't lie; I liked to give Celyrians a rough time because they were the only species shorter than us Anurans. They were okay guys, though. Pretty peaceful.

We stopped for a moment to figure out where we needed to go.

"So, where does this professor want to meet us?" I asked while attempting to dodge the crowds.

Jord tapped on his PCD. "Looks like he wants to meet up at a place named 'Lenny's'. He says it's in the market sector."

I looked up at the neon signs. On the opposite end of the room, there was a green sign that read "To Market". I tapped Jord's arm and pointed at it. "There it is."

We joined the crowd that was waiting to board the tunnel lift. Within a few minutes, it returned and unloaded its current cabin of passengers. Our crowd fanned out to allow them through, then rushed aboard. I followed behind Jord's long, heavy coat as he pushed through. We managed to get aboard just as the cabin filled to capacity. Two pressurized doors sealed behind us. The lift's clamps detached and jolted forward. Everyone stumbled a bit, but it didn't look like anyone had fallen.

"You know, I was thinking," I said. "During the interview with Doctor Rupert, she mentioned something about ruins. What do you think they're doing there?"

"Probably digging up something they're not supposed to," Jord said nonchalantly. It was almost like he already knew the answer. "Or again, something they don't want anyone to know about."

"So, you do think the research is shady."

"Honestly, I don't know. It could be that we won't even see whatever it is they're doing there. They might have us sign a non-disclosure agreement. I don't know. I don't care. I'm here for the action and to make money."

"Maybe we can probe this professor guy," I said. "He might know something."

"You can try, but I don't think he is going to budge at all. He sounded like a prick when I spoke to him."

The lift jolted to a stop, causing everyone to stumble again. The clamps locked us in place, and the doors hissed open. As we left the cabin, I was bombarded by bright, flashing, neon lights and signs, and the sounds of a few hundred voices engaged in idle chatter. Small, personal hovercraft flew above the foot traffic below, engines humming as they went. I'd forgotten how noisy the Hub was. Despite it being only one-hundredth of Ritan City's size, it was twice the volume. Maybe it was because the enclosed space trapped all the sound inside of it.

I looked to Jord and asked if he knew where to go. He checked his instachat with our potential client. Nothing. Then, I saw a directory. We walked over to it, but had to dodge pedestrian traffic, traveling in both directions. It was ten blocks to the market sector.

We joined the flow of traffic for the next ten blocks, until we saw the blue-and-white sign reading, "Lenny's". It was a little place but packed with customers. A bar stretched from the left side of the room across the back wall. Outside, there was a wraparound deck with booth seating.

"Did he tell you what he looks like?" I asked Jord while scanning Lenny's.

Jord shook his head. "No. Wait, he just sent a message."

"What's it say?"

"He's in the back of the deck area. Around the corner."

We rounded the corner of Lenny's. No one was there. Jord received another message. "He wants us to stop."

"What? Why?"

I felt something jab into the back of my neck. Damn, Jord had been right. We should have brought our guns. I didn't dare to move or even turn my head to see who it was. I put my hands up. It was the second time in a week I'd been mugged.

"Tranquility is a virtue, gentlemen," a classy, baritone voice said. "And put your hands down."

I followed the orders, then felt a hand start patting me down all over. Then, it stopped. I assumed it had moved on to search Jord.

"Oh, what's this?" the voice said. I glanced over and saw a hand pull out a plasma pistol from underneath Jord's long coat. I gave Jord a disappointed look. Despite my plea, the asshole had still smuggled a gun in. (Although, in this situation, his point had been proven correct.) "I'll be keeping this for the duration of our meeting. Walk over to that booth."

We sat down at the booth at the end of the deck. Our assailant was a Human, with hair around his lips and chin, and dark brown, almost black eyes. He wore a strange, blue, hooded cloak that shimmered with gold-and-silver embroidery. Honestly, he looked like something out of a Human fairy tale. What I mean by that is he looked ridiculous.

"Professor?" I asked.

He nodded. "Your powers of observation serve you well, Anuran."

I couldn't tell if that was meant to be an insult or a compliment. But if I asked him which one it was, then it would have definitely become an insult. So, I decided to say nothing.

"What do you want?" Jord asked. "Hm? Money? Do you even want a ride to Melville? Are you even a professor? Or was that all a lie?"

"Be calm, ogre," the professor said. "I am not here to rob you. I simply wanted to ensure you would not commit such an act on me."

Although I wasn't sure what the guy's real intentions were, I decided to play it cool. "Relax. Let the guy talk."

Jord raised his voice. "Why? All he had to do was say, 'Hey, I'm at this bar at a booth in the corner.' Instead, he's running us through the ringer."

I hushed Jord. I had to. He was going to blow an easy one-grand.

"Perhaps the Anuran is the one I should be speaking to. At least, I know you are who you say you are. What are your names?"

"Sai Cadel, Founder and CEO of Omnigalactic, LLC," I answered. "The Tresedi here is my partner, and the co-founder of the company. Now, tell us who you are."

"Professor is fine," he dodged.

"Answer us," Jord demanded, slamming his metal hand on the table. "Don't piss me off any further."

The professor held out his gloved hands. "All right, all right. I am Professor Daniel Glennsworth."

"So, Professor, we are here to fulfill a service," I said and clasped my hands together. "Are you still interested in traveling to Melville?"

"Shhh. Keep your voice down." Glennsworth looked over our shoulders. "Indeed."

"Are you some kind of fugitive?" Jord asked. "I bet you owe someone money. Let's go, Sai. This was a waste of time."

"No, no, no. I am merely a man who prefers to keep anonymous. Subtlety is a passion of mine."

"Pardon me, Professor," I said. "But, you're about as subtle as a gunshot with those wizard robes on."

"He has a point," Jord added.

"These are not 'wizard robes'," Glennsworth said while making air-quotes.

"Whatever you say," I said. "So, are we ready to—"

Glennsworth looked behind us again, then quickly ducked down. "Don't move. Act normal."

I couldn't help myself. The itching desire to look behind me needed to be scratched. Slowly, I turned my head and saw two figures, similarly dressed in ridiculous robes, walking toward Lenny's. One was a Human female in a green robe with silver pins and pendants. The other was a Celyrian in a red robe with black trim. Who were they? And why was he hiding from them?

I turned back to Glennsworth. "Okay, you'd better start talking. You're running from something."

"Facilitate my escape; then, I will tell all," Glennsworth said. He lifted his head.

I looked at Jord. "What do you think?"

Jord continued to stare at Glennsworth. "Only if he pays us up front. Then again, I don't know if a grand is worth the trouble."

Glennsworth cursed. "Fine, I'll pay you fifteen-hundred. No more. But not until we get to Melville."

"That's more like it," Jord smirked. "Now, give me my gun."

Glennsworth returned the plasma pistol to Jord, who leaned close to Glennsworth's face. "Follow us and keep close, Professor."

After the two robed individuals walked past Lenny's, we left the booth, and Jord led the way. We weaved and dodged the two-way pedestrian traffic. I couldn't see where the robed individuals were and cursed my short stature. Getting to the Lady Luna without being seen was up to Jord — a seven-foot-tall Tresedi who stood head-and-shoulders above the crowd.

He got us to the tunnel lift as the doors hissed open, but the horde of passengers pressed us to the front, and I started to feel suffocated. I leaned and pushed them back with my shoulders, but again, my relatively small size forced me to be squished.

The tunnel lift announced its arrival to the outer ring with a friendly jolt. A knee struck the back of my head, making me feel dizzy for a few seconds. Jord grabbed me by the jacket with his free hand and pulled me out of the cabin. Thank the Pantheon, because I would have been trampled otherwise.

We waited for one of the few elevators going up and down the outer ring. Glennsworth had a look of worry on his face as he continued to keep watch for his pursuers. He cursed and quickly ducked onto his knees.

"Daniel!" someone shouted. It sounded like the Human female.

"They've spotted me," he whispered. "Quick, get me to your ship!"

Jord drew his plasma pistol. "Want me to take care of them?"

"Put the gun away," I whispered and tapped Jord's arm. "You'll get us arrest—"

"He's got a gun!" a random passerby yelled. "Police!"

There was a ding, and the elevator doors opened. Jord pushed us aboard, and the crowd behind us dispersed, revealing the two robed individuals, running toward us. I frantically tapped the button to take us to the ninth floor, where the Lady Luna awaited in Dock 901. The Human in the green robe chanted in some unintelligible language and waved her arms about. The elevator doors started to close. She put her arms out in front of her, then started to spread them apart. Glowing with black-and-white light, the elevator doors stopped and opened in synchrony with the Human's arms.

"How is she doing that?" I yelled.

The Celyrian started to chant, as well, and waved his four arms around his body. My body tingled all over with pins-and-needles. A swirling, gray portal opened beneath my feet, and I was lifted a few feet into the air.

"Help me, damn it!" I yelled.

Jord grabbed my leg and yanked me back down. He pointed his pistol at them. I told him not to shoot. If we got arrested, the company might as well have been dissolved at that point. We would have spent the next few months in jail. Jord ignored me and fired a volley. The robed individuals dove out of the way as the toroid rounds left ring-shaped burns at their feet. The elevator doors slammed shut and with a whoosh, the elevator shot upward.

I scrambled to my feet and dusted off my jacket. Jord reloaded the pistol with a look of satisfaction. I glared at him, my eyes shooting out burning beams of extreme disappointment.

"Relax," he said. "I only made them dance."

"I didn't mean fire your weapon, idiot," I said. "We'll never be able to come back. They'll arrest us on sight."

"If I didn't shoot, you'd still be floating around."

I looked to Glennsworth. "Who were those people?"

"They were... associates of mine," he answered.

"What do they want from you?" I asked.

"I cannot say." Glennsworth looked away. "It is beyond your comprehension."

Jord pushed him against the elevator wall. "I think a bullet in the head is beyond your comprehension. Start talking."

Glennsworth held his arms up to parley. "Once we leave, I promise, I will explain everything."

The elevator dinged and the doors opened. We rushed through the curved hallway and found Dock 901. I opened the door and sprinted for the keypad under the ship. I punched in the four-digit code to open the boarding ramp. We boarded the ship.

I went to the cockpit and yelled, "Hold on to something! I'm going to make a hard burn for the Wyn Gate!" I flicked the ignition switch, and the engines roared. The automated docking system should have opened the docking bay doors, but after a few minutes, they didn't open. No! I forgot to pay the balance on my temporary account! I hopped out of the captain's chair and reopened the boarding ramp.

"What are you doing?" Jord yelled.

"I have to pay the balance, or the doors won't open!"

I sprinted so fast and hard that I knew my legs were going to be sore for the next few days. I hadn't done any sort of physical activity that strenuous since pilot school. A few button prompts, and a scan of my digiwallet, and then, I left the kiosk and ran back toward the Lady Luna.

Then, I felt the tingling again, and I flew into the air. Spinning around, I saw it was those two robed assholes again. I yelled for help, but the roar of the engines drowned out my voice. They approached me, flipping me upside-down.

"Where is Daniel?" the Human said.

"Now, listen, lady," I said. Blood rushed into my skull, making it feel like it was about to explode all over her. "I don't want any trouble. I don't know anything or anyone named Daniel. Maybe we can talk this out, you know? Maybe you can let me go?"

"Silence!" the Celyrian yelled. "Bring him to—"

A metal pole cracked the Celyrian over the head and sent him hurling into the Human. I started to fall but quickly stopped in mid-air, flipped right-side-up, and was placed on the ground feet-first. The metal pole flew past my face and into Glennsworth's hands. He pressed a tiny button on the pole. It retracted into a short rod, and he placed it somewhere underneath his robes.

"Let us leave this place!" he shouted.

He didn't need to tell me twice. I sprinted back onto the ship as the docking bay doors began to open, depressurizing the bay. I closed our boarding ramp and ran to the cockpit, slamming the prograde thrusters to maximum. The Lady Luna blasted into space. I steered her toward the Wyn Gate and activated the Interspace beacon. The Wyn Gate swirled faster and faster, until the star-pocked, black space behind it changed into the bleached white of Interspace. Locked in for Interspace transition, we plunged through the Wyn Gate, and all color disappeared, vanishing like my definition of reality.

CHAPTER TEN

Speaking of Wizards

I checked the aft cameras. From what I could see, no one had followed us into Interspace. Other than the occasional freighter or large craft passing by, we were safe. I didn't want to be attacked by actual wizards — not again.

Speaking of wizards, where was Glennsworth? "Jord, bring the professor to the cockpit," I said over the intercom. Then, I set the Lady Luna to autopilot and swiveled around in my chair. Within half a minute, the two of them came to the cockpit, Jord clutching Glennsworth by the arm.

I crossed my arms to look intimidating, but honestly, it probably wasn't working, considering my diminutive height. "Care to explain yourself, Professor? First off, who were those people?"

"Unhand me, ogre," Glennsworth said and ripped his arm free. He shifted his weight back and forth, the tails of his robes swaying. I wasn't sure whether he was going to continue to be dodgy or tell the truth. "They are associates of mine."

"That's what you said the last time," Jord said. "Do you think we're stupid?"

"What my partner is trying to say," I said, "is that, as your service providers, it's important you be honest with us. I mean, as someone who's had a couple spells cast on me, I'd like to know what kind of baggage you're carrying, if you catch my drift."

"Gentlemen, trust me," Glennsworth said. "I'm being truthful with you."

"Then, tell us," I said.

"As I said before, it's beyond your understanding. You do not want the knowledge I possess."

Jord scoffed. "Try us."

Glennsworth stayed silent for a few seconds, looking like he was searching his mind for the right words to say. Hopefully, those words wouldn't secretly be a spell. "I am a student of the occult arts. To answer your question more fully, those two individuals are also practitioners of this hidden knowledge. You experienced it firsthand, Mister Cadel."

I pointed at him. "So, you are a wizard! Your robes gave it away. Only an idiot would dress like that, unless they had a reason to. No offense."

"I am not a wizard, damn you! I am an occultist."

"Wizard, occultist, whatever," I said. "So, why are they after you? Wait, you don't practice some kind of forbidden magic, do you? Like black or blood magic? If so, it's not allowed on my ship."

Glennsworth rubbed his face so vigorously, I thought he'd mash it into the back of his skull. "It is not 'magic', you fool. This is not some sort of fantasy film. And no, nothing I do is considered a part of the dark arts, whatever that may be."

"Okay, good."

Jord crossed his arms. "You still haven't told us why they're after you."

"I may have borrowed something from them without their knowledge."

"That's called 'theft'," Jord said. "What'd you steal?"

Glennsworth chuckled. "That is not your concern. The only thing I desire at this moment in time is to get to Melville."

"What's stopping them from following you there?" I asked.

"They are unaware of my destination; I assure you."

"Why are you heading to Melville?" Jord uncrossed his arms and stepped closer to Glennsworth.

"It's remote," he answered. "A place I can rest and gather my thoughts before deciding where to go next."

"Where will you go next?" I asked.

"I'm tired of answering questions, and I need to rest. I haven't slept in days. Once we arrive, I will no longer be a burden to you, gentlemen. Now, I will retire to a quiet part of your ship and sleep. Good day."

Glennsworth left the cockpit, rubbing his eyes.

So, it was true - magic existed. I knew he'd called it "occult arts" or whatever, but it was still one heck of a revelation. How had that escaped the public eye? With the Web, everyone could have found out about this. I could have been famous if I exposed it. Just a few taps on my PCD, and I could have blown the lid off the whole thing. So, why didn't I? I dunno; I felt kind of bad for him. He looked like a guy who was down on his luck. And, he had saved my life back there. Then again, I guess he had to, since we were his only ride out of there. Besides, would I have wanted someone to expose my secrets? That was a stupid question with an easy answer: Of course not. What kind of a business dumped on their clients like that?

"In all my years of traveling the galaxy, I've never seen anything like that," Jord said. "Except maybe a Wyn telepath."

"And I thought Interspace was weird," I said.

Jord shook his head. "This has been a lot to process. I'm going to get some shuteye myself."

A klaxon sounded. I swirled back around to the control console. The aft cameras had spotted something. I adjusted the zoom. Oh, shit. Winged, jet-black she-devils with talons and mouthfuls of snarling fangs flew toward us. Their screeches were so loud, they pierced through the hull and rattled my head.

"Don't go to sleep just yet, Jord-o. Looks like we have company."

"What is it?"

"Pack of harpies; looks to be about five of them."

Jord ran out of the cockpit and yelled, "I'll get on the railgun!"

"Prepare for evasive maneuvers!" I yelled over the intercom. "Find something to hold onto, Professor!"

I punched the prograde thrusters to full throttle and sent the Lady Luna into a dive toward a cloud of black gas beneath us. I glanced at the aft cameras. The harpies were gaining on us. I immediately regretted buying that old hunk of metal. A newer-model ship — or even the old freighter I'd flown for Liberty Freight — would've outrun the harpies with ease.

The railgun thundered as Jord fired it at the pack of screeching harpies. A black streak flashed through the white of Interspace and hit one, blasting it into a puff of black smoke. Boy, was I glad to have such a good shot onboard. Unfortunately, it only pissed the harpies off further, and they continued their pursuit. If only that piece of junk could go faster!

A crescendo of footsteps stomped toward the cockpit. Glennsworth looked at the aft cameras. "What is happening?"

"There's a pack of very mad, very hungry harpies behind us," I said and sent the Lady Luna into a corkscrew. Glennsworth stumbled and fell into my lap, knocking my arms off the controls. The ship jerked and continued to corkscrew. Despite tumbling around like we were on a theme park ride, I shoved Glennsworth off me and corrected our course. From down the corridor, I could hear Jord hollering with laughter. I was glad to know he was having a good time.

With another crack of thunder from the railgun, another harpy was hit. Still, they got closer and closer. My heart raced, and my stomach sank with the thought that we might not get out alive. My idea of dying did not include being eaten alive.

Jord fired another shot, but the harpies were smart and dodged it. They were right on us now, within twenty feet of the engines. I made a series of sharp turns in a weaving pattern and hoped to catch one in the afterburn. No use. They grabbed a hold of the hull with those long, flesh-ripping claws. The more I tried to shake them off, the harder they gripped on. Jord fired another shot, but I couldn't tell if he'd hit any.

Sinister, scraping sounds reverberated from the back of the ship. They were digging their way in.

"Got any more of that magic, Professor?" I asked. I tried to shake them off again. Still, no use.

Glennsworth pulled out a thick, leather-bound book from his robes. He flipped through the pages and ran his fingers over some ornate, red-and-black script. He started to read the script, but his haughty Human voice was gone. It bellowed and deepened to the pitch and tone of a monster.

"GASH'NATH RA NORT ICKTH'NAER! GASH'NATH YAR NET'AA FIL AZARR'SHNA!"

The harpies screeched in pain and let go of the ship. I looked at the aft cameras. They clutched their heads and twisted in ways that would make a contortionist sick.

We soared away, alive for another day. Jord cheered and joined us in the cockpit.

"What did you just do?" I asked, my mouth agape.

Glennsworth placed the book back underneath his robes. "That is not for you to know. My hand was forced."

"But what if we get attacked again? Maybe you could show us how to do that, just in ca—"

"Just get us to Melville," he said and stormed off.

I looked at Jord and remembered my mouth was still open. I snapped it shut. "If you saw what I just saw..."

"What happened?" Jord asked.

"He pulled out this book and started saying something in some weird language. The harpies gave up and looked like they were in excruciating pain. Like their heads were about to explode! I've never seen anything like it."

"Looks like our passenger is full of surprises."

"No kidding. I still want to know why he's on the run."

Jord scoffed. "I don't know. What I do know is the sooner we get to Melville, the sooner he's not our problem. The longer he's on this ship, the more trouble he'll bring us. Holler if you need me."

Jord left the cockpit. I corrected our course and kept an eye on the aft cameras. Hours passed, and all I could think about were Glennsworth, the two other occultists, and the awesome powers they wielded. They could control objects and even make harpies fly away in sheer agony. What else were they capable of? What was that book he had? And what else was in it? Could he stop time or fly? What about breathing in space?

That might have sounded ridiculous, but after that day, I didn't know what to believe anymore. I had to find out. I had to look inside that book.

****

The next three days were fairly mundane. I had to maintain an appearance of not caring about Glennsworth's hidden knowledge. I left him alone, and when we did run into one another, I kept it to small talk. He didn't catch on — at least, he didn't appear to. But that night, I would hatch my plan of getting a peek at that book.

After a depressing dinner of dehydrated fish and berries, I relegated myself to the cockpit for the next few hours and read my dad's book to pass the time. I'd slacked on it, due to the events of the last few days, so I caught up on maintaining loyal clients, and the chapters discussing business upkeep and accounting. Some of the information stuck, but I couldn't keep my mind from drifting toward Glennsworth and that book.

I set my dad's book on the console and put the Lady Luna on autopilot. I hopped down from my chair and crept down the main corridor. Silence. Only the dull hum of the engines resonated against the steel walls of the hull. My boots made subtle thuds as I continued to creep through the ship. Jord was fast asleep on the bottom cot in the crew cabin. Good; he wouldn't ask what I was up to.

Since Glennsworth wasn't in the crew cabin, that meant he was in the only other place onboard - the engine room. I hoped to the Pantheon that he was asleep, as well.

Further down the main corridor, I went. I lessened my already slow pace and paid careful attention to the sound of my footsteps. Like a ghost, I drifted silently into the engine room. There he was, nestled under the console of the engine calibrators, snoring like a giant, cave-dwelling rizzonet during the rainy season. I knew he hadn't carried on any luggage, so all his personal belongings were under those damn robes. My heart thudded and my throat dried out. Beads of sweat formed on my forehead and cheeks.

I took a deep breath and lifted one of the flaps at the front of his robes. Ever so carefully, I folded the flap back, revealing one of his arms. Clutched in his hand was the book. I lifted his fingers from their soft, relaxed grip.

He didn't wake. So far, so good.

The beads of sweat condensed into a droplet, and it splashed onto his chin. No! He stirred, snorted loudly, and rubbed his chin with his hand. Busted. What should I say? I had to think of something quick.

But, he returned to his slumber. I exhaled hard in relief. The book was free from his grip! I grasped it between my hands and tucked it under my arm. What if he woke? I couldn't scuttle off with it. My whole plan would crumble. I decided to sit down next to him; that way, if he woke, I could put it next to him and act like nothing happened. I would tell him I'd heard a funny noise in the engine room and came to check on it.

The book pulsed with heat in my hands, as if emitting some sort of energy. On the cover was a golden tree with hundreds of branches, and on each branch was a different kind of symbol, all unique. Underneath the tree was a crimson circle. A gold, five-pointed star was in the middle of the circle, with tiny symbols at each of the points.

I opened the book and was greeted by the scent of stale paper. How old was this thing? I turned the pages carefully, fearing it would crumble in my hands.

Strange, alien inscriptions lined the pages, and some of them were accompanied by illustrations of creatures. Some had evil faces with fanged mouths and horns. Some had hooved feet with wings and tails. On some, I couldn't distinguish which end was their head and which end was their tail. There was a page with harpies on it. A-ha! That one I know! There was an inscription in red lettering. I wondered if that was the passage Glennsworth read. If only I could have interpreted the language...

A klaxon sounded. I slammed the book shut and placed it on Glennsworth's chest. He shot up and slammed his head on the console. I leapt up to my feet and tried to make it look like I was just walking in. "Morning, Professor! I was trying to wake you before the alarm went off." I gave a fake chuckle.

He rubbed his head. "You were too late, I'm afraid," he mumbled. "What is happening? Are we under attack again?"

"No, Sir. That's just a routine alarm. We're approaching the Harland System. We're almost to Melville."

He nodded. "I see. Shouldn't you be at the helm, then? I didn't offer fifteen-hundred bitcreds to crash into an asteroid."

I laughed nervously and socked him in the arm. "You're funny when you want to be! Anyway, Jord should be getting breakfast ready while I take us in. We'll be there in no time."

"Right," he said, looking around. "Do you have a hygiene chamber onboard? I am much in need of washing."

"Yes, Sir. Just ask Jord where it is, and he'll show you. I'll head back to the cockpit and make sure we don't hit any of those asteroids you're so worried about."

I walked away casually and exhaled in relief. He hadn't suspected anything. At least, I hoped he hadn't.

Jord was busy adding water to the dehydrated breakfast meals in the kitchenette. His back was turned, so I scampered out of the crew cabin and down the corridor. I manned the controls and disengaged autopilot.

As I activated the Lady Luna's Realspace beacon and locked her in for transition, images of the book bombarded my mind. All the symbols, creatures, and red text swirled around in my head. What was that secret knowledge? I had no reference point with which to even begin to understand it all. Maybe with the proper teacher — like Glennsworth —I could unlock its secrets. I shook the thought out of my head. The guy was a quadruple-locked vault with security lasers and armed guards. No way he'd share it with an idiot like me.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

You Crazy Psycho

That was the longest short Interspace jump of my life. For the three days we spent inside, I was either sleeping or reading more of my dad's book. It was the only thing keeping my mind off Glennsworth's weird book — despite how often it wandered there. Glennsworth kept to himself, save for his meals. But even then, he was a person of few words. He was aloof, uncaring. His mind must have never stopped turning. I wondered if he was just as obsessed as I was. (Me, obsessed? No way, I wasn't obsessed. I meant interested.)

Jord interrupted my train of thought with a plate of steamed algae patties and reedberry juice.

"Here's your breakfast, champ," he said. "By the way, nice flying back there. I knew I made the right choice, going into business with you."

I grabbed my breakfast, set it on my lap, and mashed a whole patty into my mouth. Mmmm. Nice and foamy. I washed it down with the sweet and tart juice. "Thanks. You didn't do too bad a job shooting."

"We almost there? I'm ready to get you-know-who off this ship. I've had enough weirdos to last me the rest of the year."

"Another half-hour, give or take."

"Good; I'm ready to make some real money and do some real work. I forgot how boring space travel was. Anyway, let me know if you need anything else. I'll be putting some last-minute touches on the weapons."

We passed through the Wyn Gate, and the watery world of Harland appeared in full display. It was like a gem of sapphire against a sheet of black velvet with little holes of light peeking through it. I typed the coordinates provided by Doctor Rupert into the route tracker. The greenish-yellow rings careened around to the far side of Harland. I followed them in.

Once we hit the atmosphere, I told Jord and Glennsworth to hold on over the intercom. The internal temperature rose, and flames arced all around the ship. I shook violently in my chair and hoped to the Pantheon that the Lady Luna wouldn't explode, burning us to a crisp. She'd gotten us that far. She couldn't give up on me yet.

We made it through! I sighed in relief and wiped the sweat from my forehead and neck. Hopefully, she'd make the return trip, too.

For a planet lacking any visible swamps, marshes, or bogs, Harland was actually kind of beautiful up close. Waves crashed and churned, foaming white. Birds dove under the ocean and came screaming back to the surface with mouths full of fish. In the clear, bluish-green water, I could see schools of fish — hundreds of thousands of them — being chased by much larger creatures of the deep. I started to think about how much fun it might be to deep-sea fish out there. Those things were huge. Much bigger than the dinky little fish back home.

Up ahead, tiny islands littered the ocean, each filled with tropical trees and lush, teal, alien vegetation. I assumed the birds must have lived on the islands and flew out for hunting. There were some tiny communities nestled on the beaches, getting progressively larger as we flew overhead.

At last, we reached the biggest island. Fifty or so moss-and-sand-covered structures flanked a short stretch of paved road. A few construction vehicles and mechanized suits traveled back and forth, hauling heavy equipment and supplies. At the end of the road was an octagonal landing pad, big enough for about three freighter-class ships, maximum. A transport ship was busy unloading personnel and supplies. I reduced the prograde thrust and took us in to land.

We assembled near the boarding ramp and departed the ship. Doctor Rupert jogged toward us, waving her hands, her golden locks of hair blowing in the wind. I waved back.

Jord leaned in and mumbled, "So, that's what she looks like up-close. Not bad for the science-y type."

I nudged him hard and told him to shut up before she came within earshot.

"Mister Cadel!" she said as she slowed her jog to a stroll. "I'm so glad you're here. How was the trip?"

"The usual." I tried to act cool and collected, as if I had done it before. "Nothing extraordinary."

She looked at Jord, and then at me with confusion. "Is it only you?"

"Yes," I answered. "Is that a problem?"

"No. I assumed there would be more of you. And, I wasn't expecting you to be here physically, Mister Cadel."

"Well, I come from the hands-on school of business management," I bullshitted. I couldn't look like a chump in front of our first big client. "We are the best in the business; I assure you."

"And who is this?" she asked, regarding Jord.

Jord took her hand and kissed it. "Jord Pirt, Co-Founder and Director of Ordnance. It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Doctor."

Doctor Rupert's sun-kissed cheeks blushed red. Jord, you sly bastard, I thought. Putting the moves on her. I had to break that up. "Why don't you show us around? I need to stretch my legs."

"Of course. Follow me," she said.

She led us down the stretch of road and pointed at the various structures. There was the main research laboratory, temporary community housing, some smaller, private housing for long-term residents, storehouses, construction equipment, an infirmary, and a makeshift recreation area.

When we reached the end of the tour, I asked if there was any available lodging. I tried to deflect and say we needed a place for quick access to our weapons, but really, it was because I was tired of sleeping in the crappy cot aboard the Lady Luna.

She showed us to the community house called "the Brick". It was a simply designed, long, brownish-red, four-story, rectangular structure with plasteel windows in every room. We were assigned a corner room on the third floor. It was filled with two beds, a wooden table and chairs that looked like they were carved from the local trees, a dinky kitchenette, and a closet. The walls were the same brick-red as the exterior, and the floors were bare steel. I won't lie; we might as well have slept on the ship.

I sat on the bed and bounced to check its softness. Never mind; the bed would do.

"Will this be okay, gentlemen?" she asked.

"Yes, thank you," I said. "Although, this is only enough for two. We need a third bed."

She looked at me, tilting her head. "I'm sorry. Are you expecting company?"

"Yes, he's right—" I turned to point at Glennsworth. But, he was gone, nowhere to be seen. My head jolted back and forth around the room. It had to be a joke of some kind. "Where did the Professor go?"

Jord looked around. "What the...? Where'd he go?"

"Who are you talking about?" Doctor Rupert asked.

Glennsworth must have moved on to his next goal, his next destination, wherever that might have been. He was a mysterious guy.

My PCD pinged. I looked down and read a message from Glennsworth himself.

Glennsworth: The fifteen-hundred bitcreds has been deposited into the Omnigalactic account. Thank you for your help.

Me: It was a pleasure, Professor. Good luck to you.

I had a feeling that even if I pressed him about where he went or what he was up to, he'd simply ignore my message. I guessed I'd never find out any more about his weird magic. Sorry, what was it again – "the occult arts"?

I shook my head. "Never mind," I said. "Thank you for the accommodations, Doctor."

"You're welcome. I don't mean to pry, but when are you planning on... completing the contract?"

Thankfully, Jord jumped in — after I just stared at her with a blank face. "We'll get to work as soon as we're settled in. Once we have enough information on what we're dealing with, we'll set out to take care of the animal."

She flashed a pretty smile and thanked us, then left.

I hopped down from the bed. "Looks like Glennsworth has already moved on. He just sent a message saying he paid us the fifteen-hundred."

Jord leapt onto his bed. "Good. I'm glad that asshole's off the ship."

I started thinking about that book and how I'd never lay eyes on it again. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

"C'mon, let's unload our stuff. Grab the brew, too. I get the feeling this place is dry."

****

By the time we'd finished unpacking, it was midday. The white sun beamed down on Melville — and directly onto my head. Anura was often cloudy and rainy, so I wasn't used to the constant sunlight. Jord suggested we should go to the infirmary and pick the brains of the physicians and surviving patients — if there were any. So, we headed down the road.

Hidden between the lab and one of the larger storehouses, the infirmary looked as plain and minimal in appearance as the Brick, and most of the other structures in Melville. If it weren't for the red, wooden cross out front, I'd have never known the building's function. We entered the automated door and followed the sounds of agitated moans down the hallway. The hallway ended, and we entered a giant room, filled with fifty or so beds. Every single bed was filled. Had every patient there been a victim of the animal attack? Doctor Rupert was next to a patient in the center of the room. She waved us over.

She was assessing a middle-aged Human with salt-and-pepper hair. He babbled whenever she asked him a question. She checked his pupils, tested the strength of each limb, and asked him to follow a series of commands. He wouldn't follow her commands (or maybe he wasn't even aware of them). It was like he was adrift, floating in dreamland. I tried looking him in the eyes, but he stared through me like I didn't exist. I snapped my fingers in his face to see if he'd react. Nothing.

"Mister Cadel, Jord, what brings you here?" Doctor Rupert asked. She scanned the patient's body with a beeping, handheld device.

I cringed when she referred to Jord by his first name. I said, "We're here to gather some information that will help us understand—"

"—to understand what we're dealing with," Jord cut me off. "That way, we will understand what level of firepower and tactics to use against it."

She nodded and looked impressed. At least, that was good for our brand. My dad had harped on branding and public image a lot in the last chapter I'd read. But, I had to say, I didn't appreciate Jord cutting me off.

"I see. I'm willing to help in any way I can. What sort of information do you need?" she asked.

Screw it, I thought, and just let Jord talk. I would have botched it, anyway.

"We need to assess the type and severity of their wounds and gather some eyewitness accounts of the attacks," Jord replied.

I couldn't help myself; I had to cut in. If I was going to pose as the CEO of Omnigalactic, I needed to act like it. I pointed at a crusty, elderly Human in a bed marked "30". "How about this Human? Is he a survivor?"

"Yes, but his current state is unrelated to the attack."

"That's strange," I said. "I mean, I'm no doctor, but he looks psychologically traumatized."

"That was my first thought, but imaging scans revealed he has early-onset frontotemporal dementia," she replied. "Somehow, he slipped past our pre-op health screen."

Jord took her by the hand and guided her away from the patient. My cheeks burned. I asked the Pantheon why he was acting that way and hoped for some kind of answer or sign. Doctor Rupert said something about the patients in the corner and took him there. I stayed behind. If I had to see any more of it, I was going to lose my temper, and that was not good for branding. It showed instability within the company.

I heard someone rambling behind me. If that guy had made it past the pre-operation health screen, then it was probably another dementia case. I turned around and saw someone in blue robes. It was Glennsworth.

He held that strange, leather-bound book in front of the patient's face. The patient started to scream in bloodcurdling terror. Then, they scurried backward in the bed and covered their head with the sheets, as if in absolute fear of the book.

Doctor Rupert yelled and ran toward Glennsworth, her shoes clicking with every step. He looked at her and darted out of the infirmary. She gave up chase and waved a nurse over. "Make sure that man, whoever he is, doesn't set foot in here again." She returned to Jord and showed him the other patients. What had he been doing, showing the book to that patient, when he wouldn't tell us anything?

I felt a tug at my bomber jacket. The dementia patient pulled me toward him, within inches of his face. His breath reeked of stale blood and tooth decay. "The eye! Pray for the eye! Pray for the—"

I shoved him off me. "Let go of me, you crazy psycho!"

"Mister Cadel!" Doctor Rupert yelled. "Don't you dare assault my patients!"

"He grabbed me!" I defended myself, adjusting my jacket.

"Don't worry, Ellen," Jord stepped in. "We got all the info we need. We'll be going now."

"Ellen?" I asked. "Just like that, you're on a first-name basis with her?"

Jord pulled me away from the crazy patient and took me into the hallway. I could still hear the patient, screaming about eyes and whatnot. We left the infirmary and headed toward the construction site.

"What are you doing, man?" I asked.

"Relax," Jord said. "I almost have it all figured out. Just need a bit more."

"I didn't attack that guy."

"I know you didn't. You saw him; the guy was crazy."

I stopped, and my boots sunk into the fine, white sand. "And what's up with you cutting me off like that? I thought I was supposed to be the CEO. You're making me look like a joke."

He cocked his head from side to side. "You're kind of digging your own hole, bud. I'm just trying to take away your shovel."

I sighed. Maybe he was right. It was hard, shaking off my tendency to be a screw-up. I decided to change the subject. "I saw Glennsworth in the infirmary. He was showing his book to one of the patients."

"And?" Jord asked. "What about it?"

"You don't think that's weird?"

He waved it off with his cyborg hand. "I don't care about what he's doing. All I care about is the contract. C'mon."

I followed him through Melville, passing by beeping forklift mechs as they stomped along the main road.

"So, why are we heading to the construction site?" I asked.

"A bunch of the guys do maintenance work on the structure that houses the ruins under the water."

"Under the water?"

"There's an underwater dome around the ruins. The guys who were attacked do maintenance on it to keep water from leaking into the site. Some of them may have seen the animal."

I nodded. "What do you think we're dealing with?"

"It's big, vicious, and aggressive. But, it's nothing I haven't dealt with before. Just need some confirmation."

We went down to the construction site and questioned the workers. They looked tough and dependable. Their stories matched up with what Jord had said. The animal was the size of a tank, but struck as fast as a trapdoor spider. I'd seen a nature show about those things once. Imagine minding your own business, then suddenly, you're in the iron clasp of a hungry, eight-legged monster, slowly sinking its fangs into you and secreting venom to liquify your organs, only to have them sucked out. I shuddered just thinking about it.

Despite our limited knowledge of the beast, one thing was for sure: We were going to need the big guns. This animal, this thing, whatever it was... it was more than willing to kill.

Once we finished with the construction workers, we headed back to the Brick to get a good night's sleep. We were going to need it for the next day, when we would finally confront it. I wasn't looking forward to that.

****

I lay there in bed, eyes itchy and red. It must've been three hours since Jord and I had turned in for the night. He was fast asleep, rattling my bed with his snores. I swore he could have slept just about anywhere, under any condition. This one time, on a hunting trip, a vicious, sky-cracking thunderstorm roared down onto our campsite. Rainwater smacked the outside of our tent like rocks thrown against a sheet of aluminum, crudely punctuated by lightning strikes. I never fell asleep, but Jord - he slept the whole night away.

I sighed hard, threw the covers off myself, and sat up. Was I nervous? Maybe, but I didn't feel like it was about the job itself. My world was so unlike how it had been a couple weeks ago. I was out-of-sync, like a twin-engine craft with only one engine working. I couldn't fly straight, no matter how hard I tried.

I snuck out of the room, taking careful measures, so my steps made only hints of noise. The door hissed open as I crept out and down the stairs. I headed toward the beach, where the high tides crashed against the white sand. I took a deep breath, and brine filled my mouth. I would've thought of Anura, but most of the water there was fresh. Instead, I thought of the time my dad and I went fishing on Danara, the first Anuran colony.

For two days, we'd fished the torrential waters aboard a tiny boat, hoping to catch that one good silver vanarfish. We must've been a hundred miles off the coast. If we'd capsized, that would've been the end of us; we would've been dead. I remember shaking from the wind and rain, trickles of warm urine running down the insides of my waders. I was sure Dad was scared too, but he'd never showed it. He'd kept us out there. "We're not leaving 'til we take one home to eat," he'd said. "Keep your eyes on the line, and your hands on the rod, no matter what happens."

My hands had been chafed raw from torrents of rain, and battering waves of saltwater. I'd wanted to let go so badly. Then, the line tugged, and the rod bent inward, and my kid-sized body slid across the "slide-resistant" deck. I dug my boots into the metal d-rings that lined the sides of the boat and whipped the rod back toward myself. My hands stung, and my arms ached with each pull. Dad rushed over, urging me on. "Don't give up, son!"

I'd tried to pass it off to him. I couldn't do it. He'd just shoved it right back into my hands. But, it was too much; my arms fell to my sides, limp from exhaustion, and the rod flew overboard and into the churning ocean, gone forever to the depths.

I'll never forget the look of utter disappointment on my dad's face. His eyes bored into mine like two violet laser beams. I'd looked away in shame, the way only a failed son could understand. That wasn't the worst of it, though. It was what he'd said. "Never in my life did I think for a second that I'd raise a quitter. But here it is, happening before my eyes. Your grandfather would've tossed you overboard, son. It'll take some work, but I refuse to quit on you."

I kicked a lump of sand in front of me as the tide swept in, washing the memory away. Footsteps rustled softly in the sand behind me. I turned to see Doctor Rupert walking toward me, still dressed in her white coat.

"Hello, Doctor," I said. "What brings you out here so late?"

She whipped out a pack of cigarettes, lit one up, and took a long drag. I watched the tiny ring of fire as it burned down the cigarette. She exhaled a thick cloud of smoke. "I finally had a chance to take a break from that hellhole. Needed to clear my mind."

I winced. "That bad, eh?"

"You have no idea," she said, shaking her head. "Patients urinating and defecating themselves, bleeding all over the place, shouting nonsense and unable to understand reasoning, respiratory infections, gastrointestinal bleeds, traumatic injuries... the list goes on."

"That does sound like a lot to deal with. But hey, it's a labor of love, right?"

She took another drag. "I don't know why I do this. Why we do this."

My eyes narrowed. "'We'? What're you getting at?"

"Why we try to cheat death, you know?" she said, exhaling. "None of it means anything, anyway. Organisms come into existence, they live and hope to reproduce, only to die. That's it. And here I am, trying to preserve those with meaningless existences."

"Whew, that's some heavy stuff, Doctor. You must've had a really rough day."

She stayed silent, eyes fixated on the tide. Her hair blew in the gentle breeze.

"Wait, you don't seriously believe that, do you?" I asked. "That it all amounts to nothing? That's kind of depressing. How do you wake up in the morning?"

She continued to gaze out at the sea. "Because I have to do something, Mister Cadel. I have to find meaning in it all. I have to find meaning in my own life. I get up in the morning... because others need me. They'll die if I don't." She turned to look at me. "And more will die if you don't get rid of this thing."

I froze. "I, uh, you can count on me."

"I'm not the one counting on you," she said and pointed at Melville. "They are."

I watched her flick the cigarette onto the sand, turn, and walk away. Probably back to the infirmary, where all the sick and crazies were.

What had I gotten myself into? This was too much pressure. I wished I was back in the commercial shipping game, where the job was easy, and nobody's life depended on me.

I headed back toward the Brick to get some sleep. As I trudged through the sand and onto the asphalt, I hoped it would be the one time I didn't mess it all up.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Too Early

Jord made the wise decision to wake us both up before dawn to go on the hunt for the murdering sea beast. For a brief moment, I took my hands off the Lady Luna's controls and rubbed the remnants of crust from my eyes. I blinked a few times to make sure I got the rest of it. Yep, all gone. Now, if I could chug down my stimulant drink, I'd be operating at one-hundred percent. Well, more like eighty percent. It was too damn early.

The ocean turned oil-black as we descended farther into the depths with only three beams of piercing white light to guide us. I considered myself an outstanding pilot - the best, really - but maneuvering through the ocean felt strange and alien to me. It was nothing like flying around in zero gravity. I felt the currents push against the ship, knocking my trajectory off-course. My hand jiggled the flightstick around to make the slightest of corrections.

Thumping boots crescendoed from the hall behind me. A metal hand clanked on the control board to my right. "See anything yet?" Jord said.

I shook my head. "Don't really know what I'm looking for, quite honestly."

"You don't remember the witness' descriptions?"

"'Big as a tank' isn't the most helpful piece of information I've ever heard," I said, then took a sip of my stim-drink. I pointed through the viewing window. "Can't see shit out there. What was your super-genius plan you had to wake me up early for, anyway?"

He snatched the stim-drink from my hand and sipped it. His face wrenched in disgust. "How do you drink that? Ugh, that tastes like mold cooked in feet-sweat."

I snatched it back from him. "I wouldn't have to if I actually got some sleep last night. Now, what's your plan?"

"This thing acts like an ambush predator," he said. "So, the idea is to..."

"...is to what?" I asked and leaned toward him, raising an eyebrow.

"Act as potential prey."

My back shot up straight. "What? Are you trying to get us killed already? On our first job?"

He held up his organic hand. "Hear me out, now. This thing only attacks when it has the element of surprise. We can exploit that and catch it off-guard, then give it a warm 'hello' with the railgun. Right in the face... if it has a face."

I disengaged the prograde thrusters and sent the Lady Luna to a slamming halt. "No way. What you're saying is that we go fishing, using ourselves as bait. I didn't sign up for suicide missions."

"You signed up for this when we applied for our GBL," Jord said. He pointed at the surface of the water. "You think it'll look good if we just turn back? Like a couple of cowards? I don't know if you've realized this yet, but we are in the business of killing for money. Cowards don't do well in this line of work."

"Of course, I do. I just don't want to die in the process."

"Getting killed is a potential job hazard."

"Well!" I threw my hands up and let them slap down onto my trousers. "I'm glad you're okay with tha—"

He shoved his cybernetic hand over my mouth. "Did you see that?" he hissed.

I ripped his hand away. "See what?"

"Some big-ass cephalopod shot across us. Quick! Tail it!"

I engaged the prograde thrust and turned us to the right. "How do you know what it is? It's pitch-black down here."

"Shut up and keep going! There it is!"

A shadow — blacker than the abyssal waters around us — darted between mountainous boulders and towering, amber, semi-luminescent stalks, spewing dusty clouds toward the ocean's surface. I tapped into my inner stunt pilot and wove through the labyrinthine maze of the seafloor. My hands gripped, vice-like, on the stick and throttle as I ripped left and right. I couldn't keep up. I was going to lose it! I edged the throttle forward. Yeah, it was dangerous, but a little more speed was nothing I couldn't handle. And, a little more speed was the only thing that kept the shadowy apparition in sight... until it shot straight up and out of view. Damn it.

"Where'd it go?" Jord asked.

I yanked back on the throttle and brought us to another stop. "I dunno. Just disappeared."

I glanced back at the aft cameras, then the sides, then back to the front. Nothing but bubbles, and the soft glow of the fuming stalks.

Bang! Something crashed into the side of the Lady Luna, and we tumbled through the ocean before smashing into the seafloor. Instinct kicked in, and I steered us in a corkscrew toward the surface. I had to get us out of there.

"What are you doing?!" Jord yelled.

"We're the hunted now," I said as I glanced at the aft cameras. It was difficult to make out, but I could see a vague silhouette, a shade blacker than the seafloor. "Damn, he's fast! Looks like your plan worked!"

"You're going the wrong direction! We should be heading straight at it, not away from it!"

"Do you want to find out how long you can hold your breath? I sure don't!"

He cursed. "You're right. I'll get the bastard with the gun. Keep her steady!"

His boots thudded loudly with each stride as he sprinted down the hall. The ship shook violently, rattling me in my seat. I wasn't sure if it was some kind of underwater turbulence or if the beast had lashed out at us. Either way, I didn't want to discover the answer.

I saw a blue flash in the aft cameras, accompanied by Jord's woohooing and obscene shouting. Of course, he thought it was fun. Meanwhile, I was shitting my pants, flying at breakneck speeds, swerving, and spinning like it was a stunt show.

My teeth rattled as another shockwave reverberated through the ship. Yep, it was trying to kill us. I didn't know how — or with what, exactly — but I didn't care to find out. The waters flashed blue for mere seconds and revealed a steep drop-off into a nearly bottomless, vast trench, shrinking the amber stalks to twigs. For a fraction of a second, I thought of Anura. Not even our largest body of water, Lake Lolua, compared to the ocean's span and depth. I was a tiny plankton, swimming for his life.

Jord screamed from the gunner's seat, and I was thrown forward in my seat. What the hell? Why weren't we moving? The thrusters were at maximum! I jerked the stick and throttle around, trying to get some movement, any movement.

"Sai!" he shouted through the intercom. "He's got a hold of us!"

The hull around me started to whine like the sound of sheet metal folding under pressure. A bolt shot out from a wall panel and dinged against the floor. It was smashing us alive. How strong was that thing? I couldn't wrench free. I had to think of something, anything.

Another flash of blue. A monstrous screech shook me in my chair, and the Lady Luna catapulted forward. We were free. Jord must've shot it.

"He's running away! Quick, turn us around, and let's get the sucker!"

"We almost died!" I said. "Now, you want to chase it?"

"The sooner we kill this thing, the sooner we get paid!"

Damn it. As badly as I wanted to go back my little bed at the Brick and hide under the sheets, he was right. No way I was going to admit it, though. I pulled right on the stick, until our light beams hit the shadowy mass that was swimming away. I slammed the throttle. It swam down toward the trench. I bet it was going back to its hidey-hole. I smirked at the idea of our pursuer, now being afraid of us.

Jord blasted another round at it. He missed by a sliver, and the bright blue streak soared down the span of the trench, illuminating the massive walls that were flanking us like an emergency flare. I pressed further, inching ever closer to give Jord a better shot. But then, the shadow swerved and zipped left. I veered left to follow, but lost sight of it.

Jord's voice crackled through the intercom. "He went down! Further into the trench!"

I caught a glimpse of it, swimming into an opening in the face of the wall. Its hidey-hole, just like I'd thought. Hold on, what if it was a trap? I could envision the scenario now - we would chase it in there; then it would snatch us and rip the ship to pieces.

"C'mon, Sai! Let's go!"

"What if its a trap?" I asked, holding us steady.

"Look, he's strong, but we showed him who's stronger. He's scared now."

I nudged the throttle forward, putting us at a crawl toward the opening. My fingers twitched. My heart beat faster. My breathing became shallower. There was no telling when it would strike. I couldn't help but think about Maws \- a horror movie about a pack of killer space-piranhas. They'd attack ships out of nowhere and without mercy, stripping the people inside to white bone. I felt like the guy from the beginning of the movie. You know, the one who got killed off in the first ten minutes?

Scraping sounds helped me quickly realize the opening was just wide enough for the ship. The path ahead became a twisting, turning tunnel. The light beams hit a wall — a steep wall. Where had it gone? Had it snuck past us? How? I checked the aft and side cameras - nothing apart from ocean and rock.

A stream of bubbles floated past the cockpit and up. I undid the restraints and leaned forward in my seat. The tunnel continued on an upslope. Despite wanting to turn back, I pulled up on the stick and followed through. Up and up and up we went, until the water receded. I hovered just above the pool. "A cave under the sea," I said to myself. "Neat."

"Why'd you stop?" Jord asked.

"Too narrow for us to fit through. I think we lost it. We should head back."

"He's further down this cave; I can feel it. Don't get all jumpy now."

"You're not thinking we should—"

He chuckled, and each laugh crackled through the speaker. "We'll pursue him on foot. Land us, baby!"

I sighed hard and landed us on a patch of smooth rock, regretting ever setting foot on that planet. I was going to die in that dark, creepy cave. I just knew it.

I clicked a few buttons to keep the lights on, so we could at least find our way back. Jord waited for me at the bottom of the boarding ramp. He handed me my customized plasma pistol and grinned. "You ready, big guy?" he asked.

I clicked off the safety. "I'll just say this: I haven't made peace with my loved ones yet."

He nudged me with the buttstock of his Mark V. "Quit being such a buzzkill. Just think of it as another vanar hunt... except bigger... and deadlier."

"You remember my blood type, right?"

He slapped a satchel of flares into my free hand and shoved me forward. "Get moving, smartass. And keep an eye out."

Since I couldn't see anything but blackness after about thirty feet, I whipped out one of the skinny, cylindrical flares and ignited it. Neon-yellow light flooded the tunnel, exposing the curvy walls, smoothed by eons of weathering. Jord's long coat brushed my shoulder as he took point.

The faint whooshing, churning sounds of the ocean permeated the unknown thickness of rock and echoed throughout the tunnel. Cries and moans of distant, massive sea beasts created a haunting soundtrack to our hunt. Creeping fear fingered at the nape of my neck and reached around to apply subtle force against my windpipe. Adding to that, the air was thick with humidity, further choking me. The flare went out in my hand.

Jord must've heard my heavy breathing, since he turned around and asked, "You all right? You sound like you're dying back there."

I shook my head. "Sorry. Out of shape."

"You've been on hikes tougher than this. What's wrong?"

I reached for another flare and ignited it. "I'm all right. The sooner we get this over with, the sooner I can change my pants."

He smirked. "Always the joker. C'mon."

Further into the cave, we went. How big was that cave system? It must've been a couple miles at least, judging by how many flares we'd been through. We had to be reaching the end soon.

My thought process was interrupted by a warbling sound behind me. "What was that?" I hissed.

Rapid tapping filled the tunnel. My heart shot into my throat. I aimed my pistol in all directions. Nothing. Just moistened stone.

Jord looked around, his Mark V dangling in his hands. How could he have been so calm? "Could be some kind of seismic activity," he said. "Old volcano or something."

The tapping grew louder and more furious, until it shook the tunnel. Shocks went up legs and rattled my knees. I stumbled, but Jord snatched me by the arm and held me up. Then, suddenly, it all stopped.

I stood back up and scanned the cave. "I hope you're right."

We pressed onward, every minute or so punctuated by the violent tapping. The further we went, the louder it became — and we were running low on flares. The tunnel opened onto a vast cavern adorned in stalagmites and stalactites, as wide as it was tall for a span of fifty or so feet. Without hesitation, Jord trudged down into the cavern. I hoped he knew what he was doing.

My boots squished into some foamy substance. It stuck to the bottoms and with every step I took, it sounded like someone shoveling mud. The cavern shook as I followed Jord. Although, this time, it came from all around us — and uncomfortably close, too. That's when it popped into my big — but mostly empty — cranium: It wasn't "an old volcano". Something else was making that noise.

More warbling from over my shoulder. I spun around to look, finger on the trigger. My hand shook from my overactive nerves. Hell, even if I had seen anything, I'd miss, being that jumpy.

"We're not alone," I whispered.

"I think we found his lair," Jord said and knelt next to me. Slowly and precisely, he placed a hand on my shoulder and pulled me down low. "Don't freak out, but I just saw something big shuffle past in that direction."

My heart skipped a beat. Oh shit, this was it.

"When that flare dies," Jord began, "count to three, light a new one, and I'll start firing away. It'll scare him out, and he'll go running. I'll chase him down. You come at him from the opposite direction and start blasting, but watch for crossfire. No sense getting each other killed. Got it?"

I nodded and watched the glow of the flare dim, until darkness overtook the cave. Nothing but black all around me now. More warbling around us, but it was closer, like something was breathing on me. I sucked in a lungful of air and counted to three.

Neon-yellow light exploded into the cave around me. I looked up and was met with the stares of hundreds of stalk-eyes, black and expressionless. They were attached to barrel-sized chitinous bodies with scissor-like claws and multiple pairs of legs, rattling against the cave floor.

"Uh, continue with the plan?" I asked, remaining as still as possible.

Jord stayed silent.

"Jord?"

He answered me with only one word: "Run."

The chitinous crustaceans charged us. Jord opened fire on them with the Mark V, filling the cave with the hum of a hedge-trimmer. I set my plasma pistol to automatic and joined him in thinning their numbers. Purple fluid sprayed from their bodies, mixing with the sticky foam underfoot. A flurry of claws swiped and nipped at me, scissoring my trouser legs to ribbons. I screamed and shot into the horde of chopping death.

Jord grabbed me by the jacket and yanked me away. "Run, idiot!"

He didn't have to tell me again. I charged back and out of the cave, sprinting as hard as I could. I glanced back at Jord, yelling as he fled. They were right on him, chopping at the tiny gap of air between them. I fired a few bursts into the killer crustaceans closest to him. They collapsed, tripping a group behind them. He caught up to me.

For what felt like twenty minutes, we ran and ran. The stomping of our boots was drowned out by the thousands of tapping legs. They gained on us. I didn't have much juice left in me.

"We can't outrun them!" I yelled between breaths. "But if we stay and fight, we'll die!"

"Got any better ideas?" he asked. He sprayed the gauss gun in their direction. Stray rounds chipped off hunks of rock wall. A-ha!

"You're normally the one with crazy ideas," I said. "But, it's our only option! Collapse the tunnel!"

"We'll be crushed!"

"Crushed to death or chopped to bits! Make the choice!"

He stopped, turned around, and blasted the rock wall overhead. I joined in to help. Pebbles turned to stones, and stones turned to boulders that smashed the creatures into crunchy, bloody messes. They clambered over their fallen comrades as the tunnel slowly sealed with hewn rock and mangled bodies.

Jord beat his chest. "That's right!"

I sighed in relief. "Whew. What were those? Some kind of hive-mind crabs?"

"Huh?"

"You know, like colony-making insects and stuff."

"I don't care," he said. "At least, they weren't spiders. I'll take claws over venomous fangs any day."

Behind the makeshift barricade, the sound of tapping faded, drowned out by a crescendoing rumble. I stomped my foot. "C'mon, what now?"

Water trickled onto my head like an old, leaky pipe. The rumbling grew louder. We looked at each other and sprinted down the tunnel. I glanced behind to see more water gushing in, only to trip over my feet. I slammed to the stone floor, bruising my face and choking on a mouthful of saltwater. Jord grabbed a hold of me, but I slipped and landed on my ass. The water level rose, and a roaring wave swept over us. My body spun around and around like a ragdoll in a washing machine as we were forced through the tunnel.

I hacked up the last of the water and paddled to keep myself afloat. It was pitch-black again, so I reached for a new flare. Oh, no! "Jord! I lost the flares! What do we do now?"

"Stay calm!" His voice echoed around us. "Ride this baby to the ship; then, we'll bail!"

Up ahead, faint, white light emitted from the ship and restored my eyesight. The current emptied us into the cave. I tumbled and smacked into the smooth rock — no doubt, leaving another bruise on my body. With water raining down upon me, Jord took my hand and propped me up. Battered and out of breath, we shambled our way aboard the Lady Luna and took off, leaving our mysterious sea-beast to fight another day.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Death Throes

I wiped the light coat of sweat from my forehead as I struggled to find any semblance of climate control in our dinky room. Anura was always a tad warm and humid, but it never quite reached these steamy temperatures. I glanced over to see Jord's organic and cyborg eyes scrolling back and forth as he read something on a tablet; then, I continued my quest for a climate-control panel. I was glad to see he paid no mind to the heat. It must have been what Tresedi were used to. Or maybe he was too much of a hard-ass to complain — making me look quite pathetic by comparison.

I stopped and squinted to see if there were any beads of moisture on his forehead. His eyes halted, shot up, and focused on me. "Can I help you?" he asked.

My knees popped as I knelt to look under the bed — a sly move to pretend I hadn't just been staring at him. "Huh?" I asked. "Sorry. I was just looking for the climate control."

"Under the bed?"

Defeated, I sat on the bare, metal floor. The cold steel felt good against my ass and lower back, so I lay down and let it cool the rest of my back, too. "It's so damn hot here. It was sort of nice when we first landed, but it's unbearable now."

"You don't know what 'too damn hot' is until you've set foot on Icto II."

I stayed on the floor. No way I was going to get up — unless I had to. "Was that back during the AI War?"

"Yep," he said bluntly.

We were both quiet for a few awkward seconds. Finally, I asked, "What were you doing there?"

He took a deep breath and sighed. "I was a part of a special ops infiltration team. We were there to end the war."

I sat up, almost reflexively. "Really? That's awesome. But wait — they trusted a mercenary with a super-secret mission? No offense, but why you?"

"Because I was one of the few left alive who were crazy enough to take the job. There were even fewer left after the job was done." His voice cracked a little, like I'd chipped at a soft spot. The organic eye stared through both me and the wall behind me, like he was reliving that moment. Maybe I'd ask him about that story another time.

I decided to change the subject. "So, what are you reading?"

He came back to reality. "Oh, uh, just looking up some local Harland wildlife on an outdoorsman site."

I lay my head back down. "You think that'll help?"

"I don't see you coming up with any ideas, Mister CEO. There's fifty-thousand on the line, and you're just laying there."

"It's hot," I said. "I can't think when I'm hot."

"Just saying, Sai. We need to change our approach. Help me think."

Thunder rumbled outside, and sinister, dark clouds swept in. Raindrops carried by gusts of wind tapped against the glasteel window. Good; maybe it would finally get cool in there. I rose from the floor and stepped toward the window, undid two latches, and nudged it open a tad. Crisp, briny air blew in, circulating the dank and stagnant air in the room. Oh, yes, what a relief.

I stood there for a long while, taking in the pleasant drop in temperature as the clouds blocked out that tyrant of a sun. High tide came and pounded at the white beach. My thoughts clawed at my brain for some kind of idea to take the creature down. But, nothing came. It was a slippery bastard, that was for sure. I was beginning to get the sinking feeling that my experience hunting vanar in the Anuran swamps wasn't going to be much help there.

A long, black shadow swept up the white sand from the crashing tide. I squinted for a better look. It moved like a black noodle in boiling water as the waves continued to crash into it. I waved Jord over.

"Get over here," I said. "Come look at this."

"What? Somebody surfing during a storm?"

I waved harder. "Seriously, check this out."

Jord's boots thudded as he joined me at the window. "What the hell is that?" he asked.

"I dunno. Want to go down there?"

"Let's do it."

We left our stuffy, little room, then went down three floors' worth of stairs and out to the beach. Flashes of lightning streaked across the sky, stabbing and slashing the massive, black clouds. Cold, heavy droplets slapped against the top of my head, as if to remind me that it was raining.

My boots splashed in the foamy seawater as we neared the long, black shadow. It wasn't so much of a shadow now - more of a shriveled, tentacle-like object, ten feet in length. Could it have been some kind of giant, weird invertebrate like a mollusk? I kicked at it and hopped away to dodge any retaliatory attack. There was no movement.

Jord gave me a confused look. I shrugged and said, "Hey, you never know."

He knelt down and touched it. After waiting a few seconds to see if it would attack him, I decided it was safe enough to inspect it personally. I inched my hand closer, until it touched the tentacle. It wasn't squishy, like invertebrates usually were. It had bumpy flesh — like my face when I hit puberty, and no girl would even speak to me. Even stranger, it wasn't cold to the touch, but radiated with warmth, like it was still alive.

I trudged through the knee-high waves over to Jord, running my hand along the length of the tentacle as I went. "You think it's kind of weird that it's still warm?"

He picked at it with his metal finger, until a bean-sized hunk of flesh came off. He rolled it between his fingers. "Yeah. It is kind of weird." He brought the flesh to his face and dabbed at it with his purple tongue. "Hmmmm."

I winced, watching him do that. "You have no idea where that's been."

He ignored me and shot up. "What if this belongs to our little terror of the deep?"

"And what if it does?" I asked.

"We can take it to Ellen's lab in the infirmary," he said. "She can run some tests on it. Get some kind of clues to help us with the hunt. Maybe develop a scent to attract it — or, better yet... a poison to kill it."

I shook my head. "Uh, do you really think she's going to go for that? She had a lot on her plate, last time I checked."

He squatted and wrapped his arms around the tentacle thing. "I know that," he grunted as he lifted. "Grab the other end, would you?"

As I lifted the smaller, lighter end of the tentacle, I knew, deep down, that Doctor Rupert was going to be pissed at us. She maintained a pleasant demeanor in public, but she was grim and jaded deep down, like she had been the other night. I hoped we wouldn't catch her at bad time.

My thighs and lower back burned with exhaustion by the time we reached the infirmary. In the main hallway, we were sternly greeted by the nursing staff. "I'm sorry gentlemen," one of them said. "Doctor Rupert urged us not to let anyone else into the infirmary, today. The patients have been through a lot and need to rest."

"Ladies, please," Jord said. "Tell Ellen it's urgent."

"You need to leave."

He raised his voice. "What part of 'urgent' do you not understand? Get her now."

The nurse gave him a stern look as she called for Doctor Rupert. I knew this was a bad idea.

She stormed in from the patient area's automated double-doors. Her worn, black pumps clicked and clacked loudly as she walked toward us. Her lab coat was stained with a smudge of brownish-black goop. I wasn't sure whether it was dried human blood or feces. Either way, she looked like she wasn't having the best of days, and we weren't going to make it any better. I gritted my teeth and shrank a few inches as the clicking of her heels came to a halt in front of us.

Her lips were pursed tight. She eyed us up and down. "Jord, Mister Cadel, my staff informed me you two were in a hurry to see me. I hope it doesn't involve bringing a potential contagion into my infirmary."

Jord chuckled behind me. "Contagion? No, just this."

She glanced at the tentacle, then back at me. "And what in the world is that?"

We locked eyes for a millisecond; then, I looked away. Man, I felt dumb. But, I had to say something. "We think it might have belonged to the creature. We thought maybe you could analyze it for us."

"Is this some kind of joke?" she asked. That calm facade she'd always put up started to melt. "You interrupted my work for this? I'll have you know I ha—"

"It'll help us kill it," I cut her off. "Think of your patients, Doc."

Her tight lips loosened. "You're right." She sighed. "If this will help my patients, then I'll do what I can. Follow me. I don't want you bringing that into the patient area."

I grinned on the inside. That was pretty good. I was feeling like the boss for once.

We followed her down the hall and into a side door marked "Lab". My boots powdered the pristinely clean floors. Bright, white lights came to life and revealed an examining table and a couple of sleek-looking science machines. I had no idea what they did, but I wasn't about to guess. I'd failed chemistry.

Doctor Rupert told us to lay the tentacle on the examining table. My leg and back muscles thanked me for the relief as we hurled it onto the shiny, steel table. The legs squeaked under its sheer bulk. From a drawer, she grabbed a weird, handheld contraption with a sinister needle at the end of it. She jabbed it into the bumpy flesh of the tentacle and pulled the trigger. It whirred, beeped, and chimed as she slid out the needle and set it into a plasteel, triangular machine behind us.

"What're you doing?" Jord asked. I was glad he'd asked first; that way, I didn't look like a dummy.

"I'm going to run it through the DNA sequencer," she said. "While I've predominantly used it to take better care of my patients, the university granted this to the project for the anthropology team. Should take a few minutes for the computer to analyze it."

She put on a pair of purple gloves and pulled a tiny syringe from her lab coat. Black ichor oozed into the syringe as she sucked it from the tentacle. Carefully, she squeezed a droplet onto a mini glass slide and put it under a microscope - probably the only machine in the room I recognized.

"Fascinating," she said, peering into the lenses. "The cells are still regenerating. Interestingly, however, they do not appear as typical cells."

"Huh?" I blurted out. "No way."

She waved us over. "Come see for yourself. Amazing."

I slid a tiny stool over to the microscope and stood on it to get a peek. Hundreds of gray blobs divided and swam around the dark fluid, stretching out like spindly tendrils, latching onto one another and bonding to form larger, gray, web-like masses. "Kind of reminds me of this movie I saw one time - The Gray Death. Ever seen it?"

"Uh, no," she said behind me. She gently tugged me away from the microscope. The DNA sequencer squawked, and a red prompt appeared on a nearby monitor.  "'Error'," she read the prompt aloud. "'Please insert specimen before initiating.' That can't be right. I'll run it again."

She engaged the sequencer again, then turned to us and pointed at the massive hulk of flesh on the table. "Where did you find this? This could be a tremendous discovery."

"Found it washed up on the beach," Jord answered, slapping it. "We got into a scuffle with the creature this morning. I gave it a good hurting. So, when we saw it, I figured the creature was the only thing big enough for the tentacle to belong to."

"That's a bit of an assumption, but I can understand your reasoning," she said. "Most organisms - that we know of - around Melville are nowhere near this size. Although, there is a very large species of crustaceans that live near the ocean floor. But, they're endangered. We don't see them often."

I shot up straight and glanced at Jord. If I was psychic, I'd guess that he shared my opinion that we shouldn't bring up our crab encounter. He glanced over at me, then back at her. "Interesting," he said. I could tell by his tone that he was trying to dodge any further conversation about the endangered crabs. Wise idea.

She rubbed a gloved hand against the tentacle. "It's still warm. How is that possible? Perhaps it is some kind of gigantic marine worm? But how could the dead tissue regenerate? Unless it's in the genetic coding?"

Another squawk from the sequencer halted her speculation. She stepped over the stool to check on it. I peered over her shoulder to see another flashing, red prompt on the monitor. It read: "Error. Data insufficient. Specimen unknown."

"I hate to tell you this, Doc," I said. "You might have some faulty equipment there."

She groaned and stomped a foot. "The Provost insisted this was top-of-the-line. Ugh, I knew I should have taken the job on Koris." She sighed hard and turned around. "I apologize, gentlemen. Nothing seems to be going right today."

The table legs squeaked and rattled against the plasteel flooring. I turned to look as the noise intensified, and the tentacle twitched and trembled. My throat knotted as I forced down a swallow.

"Uh, Doc?" I asked. "What's happening?"

She backed away. "Don't ask me!"

The tentacle lashed out at us, smashing the lab equipment into mounds of stringy wiring and shattered machinery. Doctor Rupert screamed as it swatted at her. From the corner of my eye, I saw Jord reach into his long coat and whip out his Tresedi hunting knife. He leapt over to the tentacle, stabbing and slashing like a crazed serial killer. Black goo sprayed from the tentacle. A fleck flew into my eye, but I was too scared to wipe it away.

At last, the tentacle stopped. Jord stood over his kill, covered in black goo, panting from the exertion. "What the hell was that?" he asked.

Doctor Rupert came out from behind the busted-up DNA sequencer, her mouth agape. "My lab..."

"Death throes?" I threw out there.

"Ha!" Jord laughed. "If those are death throes, then I'm a pacifist."

"How do you think this is funny?" Doctor Rupert asked him. "My lab is completely destroyed, the number of infirm grows by the day, and they're continuing to decline. You two have made our situation worse since you've arrived. And, you!" she said, swatting me on the chest. "You said you handled these kinds of contracts all the time. Well, it appears to me that you two are complete amateurs."

I held up my hands in defense. "Listen, as we've all just witnessed, this is somewhat of a foreign situation. This is a little different than what we're used to."

"Mister Cadel, you are the biggest bullshitter I've ever met," she snapped.

Jord came to my aid. "Ellen, what he's trying to say is that this is just a minor setback. We'll get the job done."

Her lips tightened into that scary look again. "This was a mistake. I want you two out of my lab and off Harland tomorrow morning. And take your carcass with you."

Before either of us could protest, a nurse stormed into the lab, her chest heaving. "Doctor Rupert! Please help. Bed 30 is out of control."

"So, sedate him," Doctor Rupert said. "Increase the dosage if you have to. But not enough that we'd have to intubate him. We're out of ventilators."

"Ma'am, we already tried that. He's ripped himself free of his restraints."

She followed the nurse out of the lab and flashed me a look of murderous warning. I couldn't say I didn't blame her. We had just trashed all her super-pricey lab equipment. Well, we hadn't done it ourselves, at least. The tentacle had started it.

Jord walked over, gave me a pat on the back, and sighed. "Forget about what she said, bud. Don't take it to heart."

I scoffed. "You heard what she said. We're fired. We're out. Our first big contract, down the toilet. I knew this was a stupid idea."

"Pfft, don't worry about it. We'll find this thing, kill it, get paid, and get off this dump. She's just stressed out from wiping asses all day."

I held my hand out. "Wait a second. Did that nurse say, 'Bed 30'?"

"Yeah."

"That was the crazy guy who nearly ripped my jacket," I said. "He was one of the survivors."

"Want to go look?" Jord asked.

We looked at each other for a second, then moved toward the door in unison. Together, we stepped out into the hall. We heard screams coming from the infirmary. I picked up the pace, then jogged down the long hallway and through the automated doors. They hissed open. Doctor Rupert and three nurses struggled to grapple Bed 30, who tore his hairy arms away from their hands.

We rushed in to help. I dove at his legs and tugged, hoping he'd fall over. With his bare, cracked feet, he kicked me off him, the heel of his foot landing squarely on my jaw. My teeth chattered from the impact as I crashed to the cold floor.

I cursed and rubbed my chin. That would bruise, for sure. I looked up to see that Bed 30 had freed himself completely. Doctor Rupert, Jord, and the others had all been tossed to the floor. He limped over to another patient — a young, Human female with both arms in casts. She looked on in horror as he neared her, screaming so loud, my head rattled.

"Pray for the eye!" he shouted and wrapped his meaty hands around her throat. She tried to ward him away with her legs, but he was relentless.

I leapt up. I had to help. But how? He would have just swatted me aside like an insect. My eyes darted around the infirmary. There had to be something, somewhere, that would be an equalizer. Sweat beads slid down my forehead and into my eyes. I rubbed away the sting and quickly focused on something I could use - an IV pole.

I rushed for it and snatched it up, ripping the IV out of another patient's arm. Bitter, liquid medications sprayed into my face and mouth. I spat them out and readied the pole for a swing. Bed 30 slammed against the female patient again and again, his hands still gripped around her neck. "Pray for the eye!" he kept yelling. Tears streaked down her purple face as she screamed silent, breathless cries of terror.

"Let go of her!" I shouted and swung the IV pole as hard as I could. The pole cracked against the back of his head. A loud thwack filled my ears, and he collapsed to the floor. I raised the pole over my head, ready to smash his face in. But as soon as I tried to land the blow, I was stopped.

"Sai!" Jord said. "It's over. You got him."

He tossed the pole away. The metal rod clanged as it struck the floor. Doctor Rupert and the nurses hurried to assess the Human female and Bed 30. They shouted a bunch of medical nonsense I didn't understand.

I looked over at the Human female. "Thank you, thank you," she whispered, a nasty bruise forming around her neck.

My stomach churned, and my head lightened. I didn't know what to do. I felt sick, but in a way I'd never experienced before. My legs started to quiver, and I didn't know why. My knees weakened, and I collapsed to the floor. Shapes hovered over me, murmuring words, but I couldn't understand them. A bright light blinded me. I clamped my eyes shut and drifted away.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Shadow of a Beast

The savory scent of fried algae patties and rehydrated fish woke me. I could tell by the crackling of hot oil that they were being fried instead of steamed. (Always go fried over steamed.) I opened my crust-filled eyes to see Jord cooking on the kitchenette stovetop. He was humming randomly, like an improvisational musician. He glanced back and saw that I was awake.

"Hey, champ," he sang. "Just in time. Got some breakfast here for you."

He sprinkled some rudimentary seasonings into the pan, flipped the patties, then served them on a plate at the shoddy table. He cocked his head for me to join him. I slid out of bed and sat at the table. Crispy, green algae and flaky fish graced my mouth and entered my gut. I washed it down with a mouthful of water.

"You going to eat, too?" I asked.

"Nah, I'm still full from a week ago. You go ahead. Big hero like you needs to eat."

"What do you mean? What happened?"

He leaned back in his chair. The old wooden legs squeaked from the strain. "Ellen said you might forget. You fell asleep after you saved that patient from getting strangled to death. I guess you accidentally ingested some of the medications that got in your mouth."

Although I didn't remember, I was glad to have at least saved somebody. It actually felt kind of good, considering my crap luck. "We have to get going today, right?"

"I worked some of my magic on the boss lady," Jord said. "She's willing to give us one more shot."

A loud, droning horn blared from outside our room. I opened the window, and the sound doubled in decibels. The sun peeked over the oceanic horizon and blinded my still-sensitive eyes. If I'd only had another set of arms, like a Celyrian, then I could have shielded both my eyes and ear-holes from the intense stimuli. I peered out the window to look around. People shouted and ran about with urgency and distress. A Human female yelled that someone had been killed by the creature.

Jord rose from his chair, cursing the noise. He took a look out the window. "Speaking of one more shot; looks like our friend decided to show up," he said, shutting the window.

"What's the plan?" I asked.

"Same as last time - we take the old girl. Blow this thing out of the water, now that he's on our turf. Can't hide in the shadows this time."

I nodded. "Makes sense. What if he gets away? Then, that's it. We're fired."

"Do you get tired of worrying so much?" he asked. "You're going to die of a heart attack. Believe in yourself for once. Now, let's make some money."

We dressed and sprinted for the ship. It was time to meet that thing firsthand. I ignited the engines, flew out, and hovered a few feet above the chop. I took a deep breath, engaged the floodlights, and plunged the ship into the bluish-green of the ocean.

Strange, exotic fish and sea life darted away like miniature torpedoes. Thousands of tiny, luminescent baitfish traveled as a giant swarm, radiating green-and-pink brilliance. To our right was a massive, clear dome, hundreds of feet around and almost fifty feet at its apex. I could see some sort of old, sandstone structures inside, but nothing else.

Maintenance mechs floated slowly upward toward the surface. Bubble trails from their propulsion systems created foamy, white streaks, slowly floating up and away from the murky seafloor. Clouds of sand kicked up and obscured my vision.

"See anything?" I asked Jord over the intercom.

"Nothing yet," his voice crackled. "Wait... what's that by the kelp?"

I shined the floodlights over by the kelp. A trio of mechs fled from the seaweed forest. They followed a stretch of piping that cut across the seafloor and ran up to the beach. I wasn't a plumber, but I guessed it must have been some kind of waste pump. Was that the reason the animal was so violent? I shook my head. Finding out why it was mad wasn't the reason I was there. "I see the workers. Is that what you meant?"

"No," Jord said. "The other thing."

A long, ink-black tentacle slithered out from the kelp and snatched one of the mechs, wrapping around its legs. The worker flailed inside the mech's glasteel command pod. He slammed his fists and let out silent screams of horror as the mech was crushed in the tentacle's grip. Thank the Pantheon, I couldn't hear his screaming, because I could tell they were the kind of screams you'd let out when death was inescapable, certain. What had I gotten myself into? This was the stupidest thing I'd ever done.

I shivered as I watched the man die. "What do we do now?"

"Bring us closer," Jord said. "I need to get a better shot."

"Closer? Remember what it did last time? It'll grab the ship and crack us like an egg."

"Trust me, Sai. Get us closer!"

My hands shook as I increased the prograde thrust. There was a crack, then a bang. The cockpit lights flickered twice, and the engines shut off completely.

"What's going on?" Jord yelled from down the corridor. "Why aren't we moving?"

I repeatedly slammed the thrust and flicked the ignition on and off. "We lost power!"

"Shit! What do we do?"

I ripped out the ship's manual from under the captain's chair and flipped through it. A roar pulsated through the water and shook the ship. I glanced up and saw the maintenance mechs, grasping the tentacle with their pincers. No way they were going to hold that thing for long.

I found the troubleshooting section in the manual. In the event of engine failure, there were two options: One, have a licensed technician run a proper diagnostics check on the vessel's internal systems to ensure quality repairs; and two, if a technician was unavailable and it was an emergency, please call the local authorities and remain in your vessel until help arrived.

Useless! I hurled the manual behind me. I had to think quickly, or else we'd end up like those workers. A-ha! I remembered the time when I was on Utanab, a jungle world. Some pests had chewed through the engine's protective barrier with their corrosive saliva, causing rainwater to flood the engines.

I tried to flush them. They engaged for a second or two, then crapped out and died again. Damn it.

Wait. "I have an idea!" I yelled to Jord. My boots clanked against the floor as I sprinted for the engine room.

"You'd better do it quick!"

It was as I suspected - water leaked from the main engine. The room was flooded with ankle-high water. Now, how to get it out? A five-foot-tall metal locker was on the wall opposite the calibrator consoles. I flung it open. A gas-welder and a dust-covered, four-armed, yellow envirosuit hung inside. I snatched it, put it on, and grabbed the gas-welder. Cool air filled the suit from the external air-filtration system on my back. The extra pair of arms hung limply from my side. They flopped and danced behind me like tassels on a flamboyant parade costume. I won't lie; I didn't feel graceful in that suit. It was dumb-looking, too.

I ran to Jord. "I have to fix it from the outside. It's the only way."

"I'll keep you covered, bud. Good luck."

"It's going to get in here if we don't close the boarding ramp as soon as I go out. Close it behind me."

Jord nodded.

I dove into the sea and swam as fast as I possibly could in the clunky, Celyrian-specific envirosuit. My mask started to fog up from my heavy panting, so I wiped it away with a yellow hand. A trail of bubbles floated toward the surface from the main engine. Upon closer inspection, I could see a long crack in the outer hull of the main engine. It looked like a fractured arm bone. There were scores of slash-marks, as well; leftover from our run-in with those damn harpies.

The railgun boomed and seemed to echo for miles undersea. I turned to see a massive, black shadow swimming toward us, and I instantly regretted my decision to leave the inside of the ship. It moved with the speed of a blood-crazed predator and swam right up behind the ship, right in front of me. I activated the gas-welder, yanking at the release valve. Seawater turned to blistering steam as white-hot flames emitted from the welder tip.

The creature — still only a shadow obscured by the darkness of the ocean depths — was not deterred by my puny, makeshift weapon. A tentacle snatched me by the legs and pulled me in. Its grip tightened, and the blood flow to my feet ceased. My feet tingled with encroaching numbness. I put the welder to its tentacle and seared it off. Dark ooze seeped out and clouded the water between us. The creature shrieked at me as I swam back toward the ship. I had to fix it! But, I was grabbed again — this time, around my torso. The welder slipped from my hand and plummeted toward the bottom of the sea. It squeezed, and the air from my lungs escaped and wouldn't return. My eyes felt like they would explode from my head. That was it; I was going to die.

A blue streak flashed past me and into the dark shadow of the beast. It released me. I gasped, and air filled my lungs again. I dove into the darkness for the welder. Another blue streak came from the railgun and illuminated the ocean floor for a few seconds. The welder landed on a rock formation that was jutting upward like a clenched fist. I felt around on the rock, until my gloved hand found it. Using the rock to propel myself, I shot upward like a rocket and looked around for the shadowy, black animal, but couldn't find it. Had the railgun scared it off? There was no time to worry about that, so I activated the welder and sealed the crack.

I swam to the underside of the ship and opened the boarding ramp. The floor of the ship was flooded with even more water — roughly two-feet high — but I could still traverse through it.

I yelled to Jord over the intercom, "I got it sealed! How are we doing?"

"Looks like he gave up on us and decided to have another go at the workers!"

I flushed the engines and flicked the ignition switch. The Lady Luna puttered, then hummed as her engines came to life. I knew she had it in her.

Jord hollered, "You did it, you crazy bastard! Now, get me close! Let's kill this thing!"

I flew us toward the black, tentacled mass. Jord opened fire on it and blew off a number of its arms. Dark ooze poured out from its severed limbs, and it disappeared into the kelp. I chased after it. Kelp slapped against the cockpit as I followed the trail of inky goo. Jord continued blasting the railgun, creating a kelp-and-tentacle salad. Up ahead, the creature tossed and turned in the sand, until it stopped.

Before I could react, the ship slammed into the hulking mass. I engaged the retro thrusters and stopped the ship. The creature lay there, lifeless. It was over; it was finally dead.

My jittery hands rested on the controls. My breathing slowed. "We did it."

Jord's howls echoed through the ship. I would have joined him, but I was still processing our victory.

When we returned to the surface, I landed the Lady Luna on the beach to check on the surviving maintenance workers. Seawater poured out of the ship as Jord and I walked down the boarding ramp.

The two workers leapt from their mechs and dashed toward us, then grabbed our hands and shook them. "Thank you!" they shouted. "Thank you so much! You saved our lives!"

A crowd of Melvillians gathered around us. One of the workers said to them, "They did it! They killed it!"

There were cheers, hoots, and hollers. I couldn't contain myself. A smile crept onto my face, and my chest swelled. It felt pretty damn good — something I hadn't felt in my entire life.

Doctor Rupert emerged from the crowd and walked up to us. "I was beginning to think we hired the wrong people," she said. "I was wrong to doubt you two. With your help, we can now get back to completing our research. Thank you."

"Just one more thing," I said. "You have anything to drink around here?"

"Someone get them fresh water!" she yelled at the crowd.

I chuckled. "I meant something harder than that, if you know what I mean."

Jord wrangled me around the neck with his cybernetic arm and gave me a hard noogie. "'I need a shot' is what he's trying to say."

I laughed and shoved him off me. "Forgive my partner's lack of professionalism. But yes, I need something stiff. Is there a bar of some kind on this island?"

An engineer ushered me onward. "Right this way, Sir."

****

The sun retreated to the edge of the horizon. Warm oranges, blues, and purples filled the sky. A gentle breeze cooled my skin, and the crashing of the waves accompanied the sound of playful chattering and laughter. Despite having no previous knowledge of the place's existence, I could tell peace had returned to Melville. A tropical getaway like that wasn't the exact location I'd expect to find an enormous, man-killing animal. Stranger things had happened, I guess. Then again, who would've known an ex-commercial pilot would have been responsible for slaying the thing? If I had been a gambler, I wouldn't have bet my last five bitcreds on a guy like me.

The Melvillians, Jord, and myself were at the island's recreation area - a thirty-by-thirty-foot, fenced-in area of beach attached to a wooden cabana. The locals lit torches once the sun had finally set for the day.

I had a really good buzz going, right at the equilibrium between becoming more sociable and stumbling over drunk like an idiot. I nursed some kind of Human beer called a "lager" that wasn't half-bad.

Jord came back from the makeshift bar, clutching a tray of hard liquor.

I held out my hand in protest. "No way. I want to be able to fly us out of here tomorrow."

Jord slammed a shot glass down in front of me. "We're celebrating Omnigalactic's first big contract," he slurred. "You are going to drink this, or I will pry your mouth open and pour it down your throat. Drink it."

"All right, fine," I said and held the glass out in front of me. "To what?"

"To that tentacled son-of-a-bitch; may his rotting corpse feed the fish of the deep."

I drank the shot. Fiery liquid burned a trail down my esophagus and into my guts. I winced.

Jord patted me on the shoulder. "You did good, bud. I knew you had it in you."

"You did all the shooting," I said. "All I did was fly the ship."

"You don't give yourself enough credit, Sai. I wish you were alive during the AI War. Could've used a partner like you back then. Anyway, the business is off to a good start. You're a natural for this line of work."

I took a sip of my beer. "Honestly, I think if it weren't for my dad's book, I would've never made it this far."

"Book? What book? The one I've seen you reading? Is that why you've been acting like Mister Business Guy?"

I scoffed. "'Mister Business Guy'? What's that supposed to mean?"

He started to move his arms stiffly, like a robot. "Beep boop. I must be professional around clients. Boop beep boop. I must secure capital."

"What are you talking about?" I asked. "My dad's book is a foolproof way to become an entrepreneur. Every decision I've made was based on that. Look where it's gotten us."

Jord slammed another shot and shook his head. "You're acting like a drone."

"Shut up. You're wasted."

"That's just a marketing ploy to get suckers to buy into it. Like a self-help book for assholes who can't do anything on their own. Always need somebody to tell them what choices to make and what to believe. Not just anybody can run a business, Sai. It takes talent and smarts. You're just too blind to see it."

I leaned in close. "Are you saying my dad's a conman?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying," Jord slurred. "You got duped. You didn't pay for it, did you?"

I clenched my fist and hit Jord in the face. He careened over in his stool and fell to the sand with a hard thud. The chatter died. Onlookers watched us, some silently, some in hushed whispers.

"Only I can talk bad about my old man," I declared. "Nobody else."

Jord wiped a trickle of purple blood from his lip. He stood up, stumbled, and leaned his weight against the fence. "Forget what I said about you. Maybe you are just a mindless asshole who reads self-help books. Another drone."

He staggered out of the recreation area. I glanced over at the crowd, still staring at me. They looked away and returned to their idle conversations.

I slumped back into my chair and took another sip. That had been very professional of us. Couple of drunken morons, almost getting into a fistfight.

A dressed-down Doctor Rupert walked in. She wore a simple, yellow sundress and had her golden locks of hair tied up in a bun. She saw me and waved. I waved back, and she came over to my table.

"Glad to see you're still here," she said. "I was afraid I'd miss out on the party. Oh, where's Jord?"

Of course. The bastard had put the moves on her. I wanted to tell her he was too hammered to even stand, so he went back to the Brick to sleep it off. "He had to go back and get the ship ready for the next assignment," I lied.

"You're leaving tomorrow?" she asked. "Already?"

"Omnigalactic never stops, Doctor Rupert."

"That's a shame. We're resuming our study of the ruins tomorrow morning. I would love to show you what we've found."

"What is it?" I asked and took another sip.

She smiled. "You have to see it in-person. It's a sight to behold."

"By the way, do you want a drink?" I asked.

"Oh, no, I don't drink."

"Oh, come on! It's time to celebrate. Loosen up a bit. The entire time I've known you, you've been all stern and wound-up tight. Heck, I was scared of you at first."

"You thought I was scary?"

I chuckled. "Yeah. I felt like if I even cracked a joke, you'd snap my head off."

She bit her lip, fighting to hold back a smile. But, she lost the battle and gave a toothy grin. "I suppose you're right. I should loosen up."

She ordered herself a glass of red wine. Strange; I would've thought she'd order a fruity, slushy cocktail like all the girls drank.

As I waited for another one of those Human lagers, we engaged in idle conversation. But as the drinks kept coming, her tense demeanor melted away, revealing the truer, more laid-back Ellen Rupert. As it turned out, we had a bit in common. We both hated the cold, loved to sleep on the couch, and had a sizable horror movie collection. She was actually kind of cool.

"So, you said those ruins are a sight to behold, eh?" I looked out at the ocean. Jord would be hungover and sleep in, for sure. He'd never make it. I looked back at her. "I guess we could stick around for a little longer. Might be interesting to see."

She touched my hand for a brief second. I fought back a blush. You didn't see too many women when you worked in the shipping business. "Trust me; it is."

"So, uh... what brought you out here?" I asked.

She retracted her hand and grabbed her drink. "You don't want to hear that; it's a boring story."

"Try me."

"If you insist," she said. "Well, I've always loved studying xeno-archeology, even when I was a child. Alien cultures are just so fascinating. I wanted to make it my career, my life's work. But, my parents said it was useless and unbecoming of the family name. So, I went to university to practice medicine. After a few years working on Koris, I had to leave. I was restless. I found out about the research project here and signed on as the chief physician."

"Talk about deja vu. Sounds a little something like my family."

"But, I want to return to school to practice medicine on aliens, as well," she said. "It may not be archeology, but at least, I'll be able to explore the galaxy a little more."

"What's wrong with this place? You're still kind of exploring, right?"

She sighed. "The ruins are amazing; trust me. But, it doesn't feel like you're exploring when you're still surrounded by your own kind. I want to get lost, you know?"

I bobbed my head from side to side. "I guess that's understandable."

She held her head in her hands. "I bet you've been all over the galaxy."

"In a way, yes." It was half true. I'd only been to industrial planets and asteroid-mining stations. But, I couldn't tell her that. It would have sounded lame, like an accountant giving a presentation on Career Day. "But, it's only ever been for work. No vacations."

"I know what that feels like." She laughed. "I feel like my whole life's been nothing but work."

Her laugh was infectious, and for a few more minutes, while talking to her, I forgot about my argument with Jord. Now, I didn't want to leave Melville. Maybe I could have just stayed there and helped out? I could have hauled resources and resupplied them? It would have been a nice, safe job, just like my old one with Liberty Freight.

"Well, it's been fun," she said and stood up. "But, I'm afraid I have to get some sleep for tomorrow. See you there in the morning?"

I nodded. "What time?"

"We'll say, 08:00?"

"I'll be there."

"Oh, and bring Jord along. I'm sure he won't want to miss it." She waved and walked away.

Yeah, I was sure he'd be so anxious to see it, too. He didn't care about old ruins or ancient civilizations. He just shot and killed things — like how he'd shot and killed my respect for him. Just thinking about it made the veins on my forehead and neck bulge. I gulped down the last of my beer and left.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Misery Loves Company

I tossed and turned in bed for what felt like hours. It wasn't the bed; that was comfortable enough. My thoughts spun and swirled around in my mind like a whirlpool that I couldn't swim out of. More questions but no answers. We'd finished the contract. Clearly, the business had the potential to be a success. So, why was I worried? Was I having second thoughts? Had this been a mistake? Why hadn't I just stayed home? What had been wrong with Jord? And why had he said what he did? Was I just "a mindless asshole who reads self-help books"?

Humans said, "Misery loves company", and "Birds of a feather flock together". Maybe we had never truly been friends; just two miserable idiots who'd bonded over things as shallow as our favorite beer and hunting.

Jord was dead asleep. Nothing would have woken him now; not even Melville's emergency horn. I ripped the sheets off and left for the ship. The night was cool, and low tide was setting in. Waves were no longer crashing against the beach; instead, they remained still, as the moon hung high in the distance. Nocturnal insects and tree-dwelling creatures sang their music of the night. If only that tranquility could have calmed the storm inside my head.

I slumped in my chair in the cockpit. It was the only thing that made sense anymore. It was the only familiar place; the only thing I knew the answers to. You pressed forward on the flightstick; the ship dove. You pulled up; it soared high. Simple effects from simple causes. But with the way I felt right then, I'd have been too afraid to fly it. The ship would have just crashed and burned into a smoldering pile of cinders, and I'd have been dead. No longer a blemish on the Cadel name.

I needed to divert my mind from such fatalistic thoughts. That wasn't me.

The old man would help me out. What did I need to do, Dad? I knew that I'd thrown away every and any piece of advice you'd ever told me. I'd been wrong. Your book had proved that, and it was the only thing still keeping me afloat.

I cracked it open to Chapter Eight: Managing Employees and began to read:

Employee, subordinate, peon, laborer, underling — the name has changed throughout the millennia, yet the role remains the same. They are the cogs in the machine, the foundation of the building, the fuel in the engine. Without a properly-managed staff of loyal and efficient workers, a business will ultimately collapse. No amount of customers or money will prevent this.

For simplicity, imagine the mass transportation business mentioned in previous chapters. Passengers eagerly await to board the Entrepreneur's buses or taxis, but the buses or taxis are late by five minutes, causing many of these passengers to be late to work or an appointment. This inefficiency continues for weeks, and at the end of the fiscal quarter, the Entrepreneur notices diminishing profits. In fact, they may even be over budget or "in the red". Because of customer complaints, they discover their drivers have been routinely late.

The Entrepreneur is then faced with a single question: "What do I do?" Thankfully, an employee only needs reminding of the importance of efficiency in the workplace. The employee will then return to work with a renewed focus or perhaps even a morale boost.

Sometimes, however, this does not work. Sometimes, an employee must be terminated, and new talent must be brought in. An unfortunate side effect of a business' success is that it exists solely to earn money. A business is not your friend. A business is not a charity which exists to grant employment to those who seek it.

I continued to nod as I read further. I knew what had to be done. Tomorrow, once we left Melville, I'd have a sit-down with Jord and hash out my problems with him. He'd said it himself: I was the CEO. I was the boss. The guy in charge. From now on, things were going to be done my way, and he couldn't just get drunk and throw insults at me anymore. He'd made our company — and especially, me — look stupid in front of the Melvillians. It wasn't good for our brand if we were still going to do this. If he didn't comply, then I'd terminate him. He could keep the guns; those were replaceable. I'd find new talent.

I decided to take a break to reflect. I closed the book and tucked it into my jacket. I watched the last of the Humans leave the recreation area. They laughed and stumbled as they sang old tunes off-key.

For a brief moment, I missed the times when I, too, had been carefree, and paying the bills had been my only responsibility; when I'd come back from a long hauling gig and unwind at Tilu's until the next assignment. If only the damn market hadn't crashed, and I hadn't lost my job.

The torches went out, and the beach was now in darkness, with only the distant moon and stars for ambient — but fleeting — light. I stretched my arms and legs, leaned back in the captain's chair, and propped my feet up on the control console. My eyelids grew heavy, and my breaths slowed and deepened. I imagined myself on my couch back home, with air-conditioning that worked.

My state of consciousness waxed and waned for a time, until the hands of sleep gripped me by the shoulders and pulled me under. Finally, a moment of peace, uninterrupted.

****

When I heard faint yelling, my awareness returned. I sat up straight and looked out the viewing port. An old guy was trudging through the darkness, hands stretched outward like he was lost in a fog or a jungle. Wait a second — it was Bed 30.

I shot up from my captain's chair, then sprinted through the ship and down the boarding ramp. I called for him. He needed to get back to the infirmary before he hurt himself — or someone else again.

"Hey!" I yelled. "Stop where you're going!"

He kept shuffling through the sand toward the ocean. I caught up and snatched him by his gown. Miraculously, he stopped. I breathed a heavy sigh of relief. "Let's get you back to your bed, buddy. Wouldn't you rather sleep in a bed instead of on the sand?"

He stood there, just staring out into the ocean. His knees and ankles buckled, cracking as he collapsed to the ground. I anticipated that he'd fall backward or forward, but he simply knelt instead.

"Pray for the eye," he said.

"Yeah, yeah, I've heard that one before," I said. "Do you have any other catchphrases?"

"The storm comes," he whispered, his eyes focused on the still waters. He raised one arm and pointed out at the sea. "It will wash us away. Cleanse us."

Finally, something of substance. I furrowed my brow. "What is that supposed to mean?"

He sat there in silence again.

I nudged him, urging him to answer me. Nothing. I waved my hand in front of his dead eyes. "Hey, you still there?"

"It will cleanse us. The storm."

"Care to explain?"

He inhaled, but in the way someone would when they were surprised or shocked. Then, he laughed quietly, each breath accented by his raspy throat.

Chills shot up my back. "You didn't answer my question. What does that mean?"

He continued to chuckle. "He calls to me."

"Who?"

The laughter ceased, his expression went blank, and his head slowly turned, until his eyes met mine. "I must leave."

Bed 30 rose from the sand and stumbled toward the ocean. I stood and grabbed his arm, but he tossed me aside like a nagging pet. My face plunged into the sand. I looked up, spitting out mouthfuls of sand as I watched his bare legs touch the water. I shouted for him to stop, but he marched on.

His mind was too far gone and fried to a crisp like a ship that had flown into a star. In those crawling seconds, I asked myself: Should I stop him? Maybe the last shred of his sanity had spoken to me. He didn't want to be helped. He needed to free himself of the insanity, the uncontrollable behavior. Could I have deprived him of that? No.

My heart pounded in my chest, my breathing shallowed, and my throat tensed up. Even if I'd changed my mind and called out for help, my voice wouldn't have carried.

I lay there and watched his torso and head slowly disappear into the black waters, sending soft ripples outward. For a while longer, I stayed to see if he would come back up, if he would change his mind. Nothing. The water remained still, as if he had never entered at all.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

The Sanest Man

The sun hung low in the purplish-red sky and continued its slow climb upward. Waves crashed on the white sand, coloring them black with what I guessed were inky blobs from the "Terror of Melville". That's what some of the locals had been calling it. Made me think of a monster movie with a similar title. Terror at the Edge of Space, I think it was called. Although, the creature in it was a massive brain that floated around, feeding on souls. The hero blew it up with a thirty-megaton bomb. It was awesome, but the special effects were a bit dated.

The entrance into the ruins was a ten-foot-tall, square, titanium opening of simple — but sturdy — construction. Behind it trailed a tunnel made of the same material. It retreated down the beach and under the water, leading all the way to the clear, glasteel dome at the bottom.

Those ruins must have been quite something, for those scientists to have invested all those resources. I had never been the academic type growing up, so it was lost on me. Doctor Rupert had oozed with excitement and wonder about it. She'd better not have hyped the place up.

Speaking of Doctor Rupert; she and the rest of the research team should have been there at any minute. I checked the clock on my PCD: 07:53. Kind of late for a bunch of nerds not to be out of bed in anticipation of resuming their study. Everyone must have had a late night.

"Mister Cadel!" I heard Doctor Rupert call. I turned around to see her with about twenty other Humans in lab coats and orange jumpsuits. I waved to her. "Are you ready to see one of the biggest discoveries of the century?"

"Biggest discovery of the century, eh?" I asked. "Count me in."

She looked around, then back at me and furrowed her brow. "Where is Jord? Did you forget to tell him?"

"You know, I did," I lied. "But, he's not really the biggest archeology aficionado."

"Oh, that's disappointing."

"...yeah."

"Well, discovery waits for no one — only for those in search of it," she said. "Let's go, everyone!"

We entered the tunnel. Whitish-blue, fluorescent lights illuminated our path, casting long, dark shadows along the declining tunnel. As we went, the change in pressure made my earholes pop. I guessed the tunnel went some two-hundred feet below sea level. The decline eased into a level path, and after a few minutes, I started to feel at an equilibrium again, but the idea of a few feet of metal being the only thing standing between me and drowning under millions of gallons of water didn't feel too comforting.

At last, we made it to the dome. The path beneath our feet metamorphosed into yellow sand and dead, dried, ocean vegetation. Areas were cordoned off in clear boxes, filled with more sand and calcified mollusk shells. It was still very dark, though, and we required the glow of the fluorescent lights to see.

I looked up at the top of the dome. The sun's rays were a tease at this depth, and the only aquatic life I could see were those bright, green-and-pink baitfish, swimming in the dark waters, pretending they were fish a hundred times their size.

The researchers dispersed to other areas of the dome to work. Doctor Rupert guided me toward the sandstone ruins ahead of us. There were hundreds of overturned pillars, many covered in dead vegetation. I rubbed my hand on one of the pillars. It was smooth to the touch from eons of the easy, gentle weathering of the ocean. Salt and dust stuck to my hand.

"So, this is it?" I asked and wiped my hand on my pants.

"What do you mean?" she asked. Her eyes were wide with wonder as she looked around at me, as if I were a ghost or something.

"Forgive me, Doctor. But, I'm trying to wrap my head around why this place is so important. To the layman — such as myself — this just looks like a pile of rocks. Finely-crafted rocks, I mean."

She laughed. "I think what you're trying to ask me is, 'Where is the good stuff? The nitty-gritty?'"

"A-ha! You got me. That's exactly what I'm asking."

She took my hand. "Come with me."

She led me deeper into the ruins, until we came across yet another opening. It was made of that same sandstone material. Ornate writing and symbols were carved around the tall, wide mouth of the entrance. I stopped to look at them. They almost looked like the writing in Glennsworth's book. I touched them with my hand, and they pulsated with faint heat.

I looked up at Doctor Rupert. "They—"

"I know," she smiled. "Amazing, isn't it? Wait until you see the inside."

I followed her through the entrance. Lights were set along the edges of a descending staircase. More symbols covered the walls from top to bottom and throbbed with heat. It intensified as we continued our descent. We arrived at a gigantic, wide-open room with symbols carved into the floor. My boots began to feel hot. A tall statue stood proudly in the center of the room. It was dressed in a tunic that bore a tree on it, and it stood on three-toed feet. In one three-fingered hand, it held a book, and it wielded a staff in the other. It wore a ringed circlet around its ridged head, with five-pointed stars etched all around it. But, its face was covered with what looked like a veil.

"Doctor, what am I looking at?" I asked as I stared at the statue.

"The researchers believe this to be a tomb or crypt belonging to the leader of an ancient civilization. Some speculate it was a priest or king."

"How ancient are we talking here? One or two-thousand years?"

"Ten-thousand," she corrected. "Give or take a few centuries."

I stood there with my mouth open. "Wow. But wait — if it's a tomb, is there a sarcophagus or coffin or something? Where's the body?"

She led me to a stone slab behind it. Like the rest of the place, it was carved with symbols, but in the middle was a star. Upon closer inspection, it was actually made of gold.

"We haven't been able to get it open to study the body inside," she explained, "seeing as how there's no clear way to open it in the first place."

A deep voice came from behind us. "That's because you're all wrong."

I turned to see a figure in robes walking towards us. As it neared, the floor lights illuminated its Human face.

"Glennsworth?" I asked.

"Excuse me, you're not permitted to be in here," Doctor Rupert said. She turned to me. "You know this man?"

I nervously shifted in place. "Kind of. He's a former client of mine."

"Silence, woman," Glennsworth said. "Everything that has spilled from your mouth is a lie."

"Wait a second — you're the one from the infirmary. The one who harassed my patients."

"What are you still doing here?" I asked. "Shouldn't you have taken off by now?"

"My plan was not to leave until my quest was resolved," he answered. "Seeing as how you and your partner have done that for me, I simply took to confirming my suspicions."

"Suspicions of what?" I asked.

He stood, stoic and silent. Then, he walked to the stone slab. "My suspicions were wrong, but nonetheless, a step in the right direction."

"What are you talking about?" the doctor and I asked at the same time.

He touched the golden star. "Your researchers are wrong — at least, partially. These ruins are indeed the creations of an ancient civilization, but this is no tomb."

"Okay, if you are such a master of xeno-archeology," she said, "then, what is it?"

"It is a temple of offering, of sacrifice, to the Azarr'shna. The Daemon Realm. Or as we know it now, Interspace."

I shook my head. "I don't get it."

"You sound like one of my psych patients with delusions of grandeur," Doctor Rupert said. "I hate to use this term because it stigmatizes mental illness, but you sound batshit insane."

"I am the sanest person in this room, Doctor," he said. "What I speak of is the truth. Now, if I may continue, what your 'researchers' fail to understand is that the civilization that built this was none other than the beginnings of what was to become the Wyn Empire."

"How do you know this?" I asked.

He pointed to the walls and the floor. "The inscriptions you see before you are of Wyn creation. It is an older — much older — dialectal variance of their written language. Unintelligible to a modern Wyn speaker, but to those who study it, it is perfectly intelligible."

"You can read this?" I asked.

He nodded.

"Then, what does it say?"

"There is a common passage that occurs throughout the temple. It says, 'Mighty, Most-Powerful, All-Knowing Shen'roth, we humbly offer this sacrifice to you so that you may strike down our foes. Grant us mercy so that we may continue to serve you.' It continues, but that is the key inscription."

"So, what happened to these Wyn?" I asked. "I thought the last of them went into exile after the AI War. But, this is ten-thousand years old. Was Harland their homeworld?"

"That, I cannot answer. One can only speculate. Clearly, at one point or another, they left this world."

"I don't believe a word of this," Doctor Rupert said. "Not when it's coming from some crazy man in wizard robes."

Glennsworth scoffed. "If you wish to continue thinking this is a king's tomb, then you may. But when you are a decade into tearing this place apart and possess no answers still, you will think back to this moment."

"Wait, wait, wait," I said. "You mentioned a name - Shenny'ra? Shun'ru?"

"Shen'roth," he corrected.

"Shen'roth, yeah. Who is that?"

Glennsworth took out his book, thumbed through it, and set it on the slab, pointed toward us. An illustration of a giant shell with dozens of black tentacles occupied an entire page next to red and black writing. "Shen'roth, Elder Daemon of Deception. It seems this was who our Wyn friends were trying to summon."

I pointed at the illustration. "That looks like the animal that Jord and I killed!"

"That thing?" Doctor Rupert asked. "You sure?"

"Yes! I saw it up-close. It had a whole bunch of those black tentacles, like the one we brought to the lab."

"Let me make sure I'm understanding all this correctly," she said. "We've uncovered a sacrificial chamber, and the thing that's been attacking us all along was summoned by ancient, daemon-worshiping Wyn? Am I getting this right?"

"Precisely," Glennsworth said. "And it seems our little green friend ended his reign of terror. Quite a feat, I must say."

"I have to include this in my report. I have to tell the university that—"

Glennsworth stopped her. "None of what I told you will leave this planet."

"And why not? This is a major discovery! Everything we know about the Wyn — everything we know about Interspace — has changed!"

"It will cause galaxy-wide hysteria! I thought you said I was the insane one!"

The temple began to rumble. I stumbled, and my elbow cracked against the sandstone as I hit the floor. The rumbling continued, but more violently. I struggled to get to my feet. "What was that?"

"Nothing good," she said. "We have to get to the surface. C'mon, let's go."

We staggered as we traversed the steps out of the temple. The rumbling intensified, and I could hear the cries of the researchers. It was not good at all.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Stringy Meat Scraps

By the time we made it to the researchers, it was already too late. Human bodies lay scattered about and torn to pieces. Their once-white lab coats were stained deep red with their blood. There were more shouts, and a head-splitting shriek reverberated off the glasteel dome. My heart sank into my stomach and boiled in bile. A massive, armored shell with dozens of black tentacles had dug its way under the earth and into the dome. Shen'roth had returned from the dead to kill us all, to exact his revenge. We had to get out of there, or we were all going to die.

I called out a warning as one of the many tentacles flew at us. I ducked and rolled behind a downed pillar. Doctor Rupert and Glennsworth dove into safety with me. We debated what to do as we watched researchers being slain one by one. The tunnel was open.

"We should run past him while he's busy with the others!" I said. "That way, we can get help!"

Doctor Rupert protested. "No, we have to help the others! We can't leave them here to die!"

Another tentacle flew our way. I rolled backward as the bumpy, black appendage slammed into the pillar, smashing it in half. Sand flew into my eyes and blinded me. I screamed out in pain as the coarse grains scraped against my eyeballs. A pair of hands grabbed me and flung me to the ground. Lukewarm water was dumped onto my face. Glennsworth commanded me to open my eyes. Despite the pain, I forced them open. With his other hand, he dried my eyes, using the back of his cloak. I thanked him as he helped me up.

But where was Doctor Rupert? I searched the area like a frantic, fear-crazed madman, but all I saw were more dead bodies.

There she was; over by a cordoned-off area of sand. She struggled to get up as I ran to her. I threw her arm over my shoulders and tried to hoist her up, but her leg was broken, and she could put no weight on it.

I groaned, trying to support her weight, and for once, I cursed the Pantheon for endowing me with such a small stature. I felt her slip from my shoulders. I turned around. A tentacle grabbed her by the legs and tugged her toward Shen'roth. With all my might, I stomped at it, kicked at it, and slammed it with my fists, but it maintained its vice-like grip on her. She reached for my hands, and I grabbed them, digging my feet into the sand. Her arms felt like they were going to rip from her torso. Tears fell from her eyes. Her face sent chills up my spine and forever cemented itself into my memory. It was the face of someone who knew they had met their end, who had taken their last breaths. She was going to die, and there was nothing I could do.

A metal rod cracked down onto the tentacle like lightning. Shen'roth shrieked, and the tentacle went limp as a dead fish, releasing Doctor Rupert. I looked up to see Glennsworth, coming down on it with another attack. He looked to me and shouted, "Get to the tunnel! Now!"

I tucked Doctor Rupert's arm over my shoulders and started dragging her toward the tunnel. Some of the researchers had fled, while the few who remained came over to help me carry her. Behind us, I could hear more shrieks as Glennsworth distracted the giant creature.

We were almost ten feet away from the tunnel when someone yelled, "Watch out!" I turned to see a long, unbroken pillar tumbling in the air toward us. I threw my body weight against Doctor Rupert's. We fell to the side of the pillar as it crashed into the tunnel entrance. Now, there was about a ton of sandstone rubble blocking our only way out. If we weren't screwed before, we most certainly were now.

I watched in terror as Glennsworth was smacked away by one of Shen'roth's many arms. My body was paralyzed. The lumbering daemon turned his body away from Glennsworth and started to squirm and slither toward us. He reached for one of the researchers, snatching them up and crushing them in his grip. Their legs hung from their torso on little more than bloody ligaments and bone. The researcher screamed in agony as they were tossed aside, like stringy meat scraps. My stomach churned and nausea overtook me from looking at all that carnage. It looked like some kind of twisted butcher shop in there.

Thank the Pantheon, Glennsworth sent his metal rod flying through the air, and it bashed at Shen'roth's flailing limbs, prompting him to go after the blue-robed maniac again.

Behind me, in the blocked tunnel, I could hear shouting. I yelled for help from somebody, anybody. We were trapped. Then, the voice became clearer, and I couldn't have been any happier than I was at that moment - it was Jord.

"Sai! Get your green ass away from the tunnel!"

I told everyone to spread out and move away from it. An arctic, gassy mist covered the pillar and hardened over it like ice. There was a ear-splitting, humming sound, and the pillar cracked and chipped as it turned into a pile of icy rubble.

Jord walked through, armed with his Mark V gauss gun, and the cryoflayer slung to his back. "Heads up," he said and threw me my customized plasma pistol. He looked at the other survivors. "You three, get Ellen back up top to the infirmary and put that leg in a splint." He looked back at me. "Does your dad's book say anything about monsters coming back from the dead?"

I reset my sights and flicked the safety off. "Very funny, asshole. It did mention what to do with disobedient, drunken employees, though. If we get through this alive, you're fired."

"Fired? Oh, so, you're my boss now? When did that happen?"

"Since Day One, buddy. The business address is in my name, and I bought the ship."

"You mean your dad bought the ship, rich boy."

Glennsworth tumbled through the sand and thumped at our feet. He groaned as he propped himself up with his metal rod. "You two can help me at any time."

I pointed at Jord. "We'll settle this after it's dead."

Jord nodded and opened fire on the mass of inky, black tentacles in front of him. His gauss gun hummed as it chopped into Shen'roth's wet, fleshy limbs. The great daemon swiped at us and sent sand and boulder-size hunks of rubble flying in all directions. I leapt out of the way, desperately trying not to get crushed. I joined Jord and fired away at the dozens of flailing monster limbs that were squirming, striking, reaching, and grabbing at us. It was like running through a massive gauntlet. You might have been able to dodge the axes, clubs, and buzz-saws for a bit, but at some point, you would get sliced or bludgeoned into tiny pieces.

If we had any sort of advantage in the fight, it was that Shen'roth's movement was much more awkward and slow, compared to how quickly he moved underwater. Despite our engines needing repairs and a thorough flush, we were able to kill the thing pretty quickly with the Lady Luna's railgun. But as I severed and maimed another tentacle with my plasma pistol, I worried that Shen'roth still had the upper hand in the scenario.

I noticed something strange, as well - it looked like all his limbs had grown back after our first encounter. Was there some kind of amorphous blob inside that shell, like a freaky, radioactive, mutant mollusk from an old movie I'd watched? How did a daemon have regenerative powers?

Another boulder flew at me. I dodged. There was no time to stand and think. But, we had to do something. The cryoflayer! That was it. Maybe we had to completely freeze and crystallize that thing, then blow it into a million pieces, so it couldn't regrow its limbs.

I looked at Jord, who was blasting away with his gauss gun. "Jord! Use the cryoflayer!"

Jord leapt and tumbled away before a pillar could slam down and crush him. "I've only got a couple shots left. If I miss, we're dead!"

"You won't miss!" I yelled. "Just do it, or we'll all—"

I was swept from my feet. The back of my head thudded against the sand, and my vision went blurry. My head pounded from the blow. I struggled to sit up and see what had happened, but my vision failed to straighten out. Something black wrapped around both my legs and tightened, constricting like a hungry snake. My body was dragged through the sand, and I reached out for anything to grab a hold of. Nothing but fistfuls of coarse sand slipped through my fingers. I jerked as I was lifted into the air upside-down.

My vision finally started to focus. I looked below and saw Shen'roth's shell open. Inside was a gaping maw with hundreds of rows of razor-sharp teeth. An eye appeared, blood-red and piercing with an abyssal, black pupil. The eye swelled as it glowed ever more sinister, until it was bright red.

My dad's book slipped out from inside my jacket. I shouted, "No!" and reached out to catch it. I failed. It fell into Shen'roth's mouth. Shen'roth coughed and tossed me across the room. I slammed into the glasteel dome, the wind completely knocked out of me.

I looked up and saw Jord blast a stream of misty gas from the cryoflayer. Shen'roth shrieked as a number of its limbs hardened to ice. Glennsworth sent his metal rod soaring through the air and smashed the frozen tentacles to shards of meat which thudded as they hit the sand.

Shen'roth turned to Jord, his shell open and exposing that evil red eye. It glowed, casting a red tinge onto Jord's cybernetic parts. Jord stopped firing his weapons and dropped them to the ground.

Glennsworth called to him, "You fool! Don't look at his eye!"

It was no use. It was as if Jord hadn't heard him. He couldn't have heard him. His attention, his entire focus, was obsessively transfixed on Shen'roth's eye.

"Jord!" I yelled. "Look away!"

Jord slumped to the ground like a burlap sack. I sprinted to him. I had to see if he was still alive. His organic eye was closed and he was limp, but he still had a pulse. Thank the Pantheon.

Glennsworth yelled at me, but I couldn't understand him over Shen'roth's shrieks, reverberating through the dome. He pushed me back and stood in front of us, book in one hand, his other outstretched toward the daemon. The red eye shined upon him, but Glennsworth kept his focus on the book. The ground swelled, and thousands of grains of sand and shells rose into the air around him, swirling like miniature tornadoes.

His voice boomed and sank lower in timbre and pitch as he spoke: "SHEN'ROTH RA NORT NAER'NATH! SHEN'ROTH YAR GEZH'MET FIL KAERN'A!"

The sand fell to the ground, and a deafening bang struck Shen'roth. A dull, grayish shield engulfed the dome, its edge just stopping short of us. Shen'roth lashed out at us, but the semi-invisible wall buzzed and sizzled as his tentacles struck it. The daemon's shell slammed shut, and it retreated back toward the temple in the thick of the ruins, shrieking as it squirmed and knocked over pillars and rocks.

It was gone, and the nightmare was over — if only for now.

"What did you do?" I asked, cradling Jord's head in my arms.

"I incanted a daemonic ward," he answered. "It acts as a barrier that he cannot pass, as it causes him immense pain. But, it will not last for long. We must retreat to the surface."

"Help me carry Jord. He's too heavy for me."

Glennsworth and I sloughed through the long, dark tunnel leading up to Melville. My legs, back, and head ached. Sweat dripped from my face and drenched my clothes. I'd never carried someone so damn heavy in my entire life. Jord must have weighed over three-hundred pounds, including the cybernetic half of his body.

I checked the pulse on his wrist. Still there. C'mon, buddy, I thought.  Stay alive. Don't die on me now. Don't deny me the satisfaction of firing you. Not when I know you were the one in the wrong.

After what felt like the length of eternity itself, we finally made it up to the beach. The survivors of the attack were laid out on gurneys. There was no more room in the infirmary. Some of them were covered in blood-stained dressings, while others had intravenous bags of drugs and saline coursing through them. We laid Jord on an empty gurney next to Doctor Rupert. I collapsed to my knees, completely spent. I couldn't move another inch. I breathed the ocean air in deeply and shut my eyes, hoping it had all been just a dream.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

World-Class Loser

Opening my eyes confirmed it hadn't been a nightmare. It had been real, as real as the sky above and the ocean around me. I wished I was back home with my ass planted on the couch and a beer in my hand, relaxing until the next Interspace haul. Instead, I lay on the beach of some shithole research colony on some shithole planet in a remote area of the Koris Sector. All I could hear were cries and moans of pain.

Doctor Rupert ordered other medical staff to do this to that patient, and that to this patient. The cacophony drowned out the crashing waves and the birds cawing in the sky. I couldn't think. My mind was bankrupt of thoughts.

I sat up when I heard Jord finally speak, although it was incoherent rambling. I asked him questions, but received no real answers, just more random sentences. I held my finger in front of his face and commanded him to follow it. I moved it back and forth, then from side to side. His organic eye refused to follow. Instead, it stared off into the distance, as if I weren't there. It was like his mind was in another dimension, completely uninterested in the situation at present.

I snapped my fingers in his face and yelled into his ears. No response, just more rambling. I grabbed his shoulders and shook as hard as I could, shouting, "Jord! Jord! Snap out of it!"

"It's no use," Glennsworth said. "His mind is gone."

"Gone?" I asked. "What do you mean, it's 'gone'?"

"Your friend's consciousness is no longer on this plane of existence."

"Then, where is it? Tell me!" I shouted.

Glennsworth looked down at his feet and stayed silent for a time. "I'm afraid I do not know."

I stood up and shoved him. "You don't know? How is that? You expect me to believe that?"

He held his hands up in front of him. "I swear; I do not know."

I pushed him again, harder this time. "You've known everything up until now. Since the day I met you, you've spouted off nonsense about daemons, forbidden knowledge, incantations, and all that other shit."

"Calm down, Cadel. Don't take your anger out on—"

I pushed him a third time. Glennsworth stumbled and fell into the sand. He cursed.

"Sai!" Doctor Rupert screamed. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

I cursed and stormed off into the minuscule jungle at the other side of Melville's only road. The creatures in the trees and bushes howled and hooted at my presence. They were scared of me. They should have been. If any one of them had gotten near me, I'd have grabbed them by the neck and strangled the life out of them.

I sat on a rock near a wide patch of red-flowered, thorny vines. I turned around. Just the sight of those things reminded me of Shen'roth and how much worse my life had become because of him.

In fact, my life was ruined. There was no questioning it now. I had been given a tool — my dad's book — and an opportunity to change course, and I'd completely and utterly failed. I'd failed at the business, and as a result, I'd failed my parents. Especially Dad. Shen'roth was alive and well; so, I'd failed Doctor Rupert and the people of Melville, too. I was even going to fail to pay the other two-hundred-thousand bitcreds — plus interest — to Valo. So, I'd probably get my brains bashed in by debt collectors. I'd put myself in a stupid situation, instead of just leaving Melville. Jord had to come bail me out once again; so, I'd failed him, too. But most of all, I'd failed myself for thinking I was good enough to run my own business. I was an idiot. A moron. A simpleton. A world-class loser who'd actually thought he could make something useful out of his life.

I thought about Jord, and all the good times we'd had. He could have been friends with anyone else. He was a badass war hero. But, he chose me, some stupid, Anuran freighter pilot. I thought about all the hunts we'd been on, all the beers we'd drunk, and all the times we'd had each other's backs. I smacked myself in the head for even considering the thought of firing him. How could I have honestly thought I could have done it myself? Heck, I couldn't have even gotten the job done with him there. I should have never taken him up on a partnership. Then, he wouldn't have been the crazy, rambling wreck that he was now. And, it was all my fault.

I felt my throat tighten, and I couldn't breathe. My eyes began to water. I thought about walking to the ship. I'd grab my hunting shotgun, put it against my jaw, and blow my brains out the back of my head. Or maybe I should have flown just above the atmosphere, jumped out, and burnt myself to a crisp upon reentry. Or tied a heavy rock to my feet and jumped into the ocean, sinking all the way down and suffocating in the black abyss. I might as well have. It was all over, anyway.

There was a rustle in the shrubs ahead of me. I wiped away my tears and looked up to see Glennsworth standing there quietly.

"What do you want?" I asked and looked away.

"I'm sorry about your friend," he said softly, but just loud enough that I could hear him over the howling jungle animals. "You two seemed very close."

"Yeah, well, sorry is not going to save my friend's sanity."

There was further silence between us. I had nothing to say to him. I just wanted it all to end. I stared out into the distant ocean, just trying to remember how Jord had been before he went insane. The wind picked up into a cold gust, and lightning streaked across the black, clouded skies.

Glennsworth sat next to me and breathed in deeply, exhaling hard. "Despite everything, I wanted to thank you for getting me off the Hub. Not just anyone gives a fugitive man in wizard robes a chance to escape. You were right, you know - I'm as subtle as a gunshot."

I didn't respond, but I could tell he was trying to cheer me up. It wasn't going to work. Nothing would. Not at that point. Lightning zapped again; this time, with the echo of thunder six seconds later.

Glennsworth cleared his throat. "And, I was serious."

"About what?" I asked. I kept my eyes forward. "About not knowing anything?"

From my peripheral vision, I could see him shake his head. "No. About slaying Shen'roth. You two had no knowledge of his power or what he was truly capable of; yet, you defeated him, regardless of that power. It was truly a feat of martial skill and ability."

"Shut the hell up. You probably see crazy shit like this all the time. You handled those harpies like nothing. You even took on Shen'roth without a gun."

"Firearm or not, it was an act of bravery to do what you did. You saved their lives. Things may seem dire now, but you fail to realize that you still have the chance to turn the tides. To make things right again."

I continued to stare into the approaching storm. It was like a clock, with each boom of thunder representing a click of the second-hand. Each second I spent there meant less time before that daemonic ward dropped. Shen'roth would come slithering his way up the beach and kill every last one of us.

I could take the ship and fly out of there. Just leave them all to die as I went to live the rest of my life at the bottom of a liquor bottle, until Valo's goons came for me. I'd tell them, "Money? What money?"  They'd say, "Valo's money. You know what we mean, you slimy, green swamp-rat." And then, I'd say, "I don't know what you're talking about." Then, they'd bludgeon me to bits.

Or, I could try to save those people. Save Doctor Rupert. Most of all, save my best friend.

"I wish I could make things right again," I said.

Glennsworth looked at me seriously. "You still can."

I looked him in his dark eyes, trying to find any trace of dishonesty within him. "What do you mean?"

"I may know of a way to save your friend," he said bluntly.

"Glennsworth, don't play with me, man. An elder daemon destroyed my best friend's mind, I've failed my entire family and a colony of three-hundred Humans, and not even three minutes ago, I was contemplating killing myself. My psyche can't take any more punishment."

"I'm serious."

I stood up. "Then, tell me. How do I save him?"

Glennsworth stood up and dusted the sand off his robes. "Come with me."

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Jord

The surface of Icto II lit up in a fiery blaze, like a match to a spilled drum of gasoline. Plumes of flame and black smoke rose sky-high, adding to the already poisonous fumes of the planet's atmosphere. Lightning slashed through the choking fog, blasting holes into the distant mountaintops. If there ever was a planet that should have been renamed, it would have been this one. I would have voted for "Hell".

"Looks like the fleet's started their bombardment," I said, peering through the view port. "Good; we're going to need all the distractions we can get."

Commander Martin's velvety-smooth voice crackled in my earpiece. "Now, why doesn't the fleet just blow up the entire place and be done with it?" she asked. "Not like the Icto care about their own planets. Just turn it to glass for them!"

Another voice filled my head, this one regal with a hint of ignorance. It swam through like fish in the ocean. "That is not for us to decide, Commander. Nor shall we stoop to such depravity and barbarity. Such is the behavior of Hanzan pirates."

A three-eyed, brown-fleshed Wyn in black robes with blood-red embroidery appeared from the cockpit of our small stealth craft. "Isn't that right, Tresedi?" he said.

I wasn't into the whole bowing thing, so I opted to nod. "Yes, Lord Yan'nu."

"High Command does not typically resort to mercenaries on such occasions," Yan'nu said. "But, your people have been a valuable bulwark against the Hanzan hordes. And quite simply, there are none left to finish the job. All other resources have been exhausted."

The arrogant Wyn turned away from me and stepped over to the viewport opposite mine. "I love you, too," I whispered, cocking the bolt slide of my plasma cannon to muffle my voice.

A flash of green lightning streaked across our ship, violently shaking us, like a tin can filled with rocks. Ampat, our Celyrian tech wizard, cursed and jumped in his seat. It wasn't like him to be so jumpy. Then again, it was the mission to end the war for good.

I chuckled to myself. "And they said this war would never end."

Ampat must've caught me smiling. He flipped up the purple visor of his envirosuit. "How can you be so calm at a time like this?"

I couldn't let the little guy fall into paranoia already. We hadn't even touched down yet. Maybe a little soldierly pep-talk would help. "Once you've seen one battle, you've seen 'em all. C'mon Ampat, you're a veteran. Act like one."

He nodded slowly, breathing in and out quickly, as if trying to psych himself up. "You're right. You're right. I'm just nervous, is all."

"The Tresedi is right," Yan'nu said, waving a hand over Ampat's head in a mystical manner. "Fear not. You will bring great honor to your people and restore Wyn sovereignty. Do not lose hope now."

Ampat nodded again and slid his visor back down.

A Golian, mouthless and slim as a twig, tapped my shoulder. With his needlelike fingers, he signed: Check suit. Very hot outside.

For the third time, I ran diagnostics on my envirosuit. There were all green lights on my HUD. At least, he wasn't jumpy. A little overcautious, in my opinion, but I'd have taken that over fear any day. I instinctively gave him a thumbs-up in reply, but remembered that was an insult in Golian sign. His oval-shaped, green eyes narrowed. I quickly signed: All okay.

I forgive, he signed back. Golian language difficult to learn. Keep practicing.

I will. You ready? I signed.

He loaded a magazine into his sniper rifle. I was glad he was ready. He'd be watching over our asses.

More streaks of lightning shot past our ship, and the roar of thunder rumbled through the hull. If I lived through it, it would be one hell of a story. I'd never have to buy another drink in my life.

"We're two minutes from the landing zone," Commander Martin alerted us. "Ampat? Ready to disable the SAL sites?"

Ampat whipped out his techpad and frantically tapped away. "Jamming their sensors now, Commander." After another thirty seconds, he nodded in approval. "Sensors jammed. We should slip in unnoticed."

I held my breath, anticipating a red beam sawing our ship in half. Another minute or so of eternity passed, and the ship slowed to a crawl. A sudden jerk of the floor told me we had touched down. I exhaled slowly. Objective One completed.

The Wyn grasped his temples with the three bony fingers of his hand. One glowing, white eye remained open. "I do not sense that we've been detected. We will resume as planned."

I scoffed. "You forgot your suit, Lord Yan'nu."

"My psionic gifts will shield me from the elements, but your concern is noted."

Arrogant bastard. I slammed a fist on the boarding ramp controls. "Then, let's move out," I said. Then, I signed for the Golian to take point. I wished they took individual names, but that was considered too prideful in their culture.

"I'll stand watch and make sure the ship's safe," Commander Martin radioed. "Don't want this to be a one-way trip. Good luck out there."

We descended the ramp into the hellish temperatures of Icto II's surface. Fields of radiant crystals lay scattered amongst the crags. Jagged rocks jutted up from the ground, making it a pain in the ass to traverse the terrain. Plenty of cover, though. I'd take that.

I kept an eye on the Golian up ahead, who'd already found a nice little perch overlooking the Icto compound. A bolt of lightning struck the ground a couple hundred yards behind us. I glanced at the churning, black skies above us. They gave a fierce roar in return, as if in warning.

An array of laser turrets guarded the entrance to the compound. Two bipedal, Icto mechs stood watch on a flat overpass. I glanced at my cybernetic hand. If there was one species I hated more than the Wyn, it had to be the Icto. They'd started the whole mess, and I was going to end it that day.

"We must press on before we are struck down by the storm," Yan'nu said. "Time is not on our side."

Ampat slumped next to me, techpad at the ready. "I can disable the turret sensors, but those mechs might be a problem."

"Why's that?" I asked.

"The turret encryption system is dense with countermeasures. If I throw the mechs into the mix, it'll overload my unit's systems. They'll detect that someone's attempting to hack them. We'll be compromised."

I cursed. Nothing was ever easy. I looked up at the Golian, who was peering through his scope. "Golian, see those two sentries up on the overpass? You'll have to take them out before we can advance."

He turned to me and signed: You give signal. I shoot.

I nudged Ampat. "Ready?"

The little guy glanced down at his techpad, then up at me. "Just say the word."

A bolt of lightning stuck the jagged ground between us and the turrets, leaving a boulder-sized impact crater behind — as if the Icto's defenses weren't enough of a threat.

"Do it," I said.

Ampat tapped away, muttering computer babble to himself. I peered over our cover at the compound. Nothing moved. We hadn't been detected... yet.

Ampat was whispering something to me. I slumped back into cover. "What's wrong?"

"I think the mechs are investigating the potential security breach. My unit's being overloaded. You have to do something, Jord."

"Golian," I said over my comms. "Time to shine."

In near-silence, I saw two pink muzzle flashes from his sniper rifle. The mechs collapsed and stumbled over. He must've pinpointed their main processors. And to think Command had wanted to send someone else in with us.

Ampat sighed in relief. "Okay, I've got it now. Turrets are down."

"All right, let's get moving!"

The four of us leapt from cover and darted toward the compound. I winced in fear that the turrets would come back online and blast us into bubbling puddles of meat. We reached the compound entrance, and Ampat went to work on getting the hulking metal door open. Objective Two complete.

Yan'nu held his temples with both hands. "We move as shadows, but I'm sensing a sinister energy about this place."

The Golian cocked his head in confusion and signed: What Wyn mean?

"What the hell are you talking about?" I asked. "Lord Yan'nu?"

He convulsed and fell back, hitting his shoulder against the cold wall. "There is a great evil here. Come, let us finish the task."

"Will you make it? Can't have you slowing us down if—"

He regained his composure and shook his head vigorously. "I am fine. Open the door."

The massive door hissed open. A mix of purple and blue light shone from inside. The whirring and scraping of machines and computers hummed through the air. I craned my neck around the corner, checking for targets. All clear.

I waved for the Golian to take point. He stepped through with silent grace, like a stalking predator. Stalker, I thought. That'd be a good name for him.

When I took a step to follow him through, a glaring, red eye flashed at me. I tripped and crashed to the hard steel floor; no doubt, bruising my knees in the process. Yan'nu and Ampat helped me back to my feet.

"You felt it, too," Yan'nu said. "Guard yourself, Tresedi."

I shook my head. "It was nothing. Let's keep moving."

"Pray for the Eye," he whispered.

"What'd you just say?"

Yan'nu walked away, ignoring my question. It had been strange, hearing him say that. I felt like I'd heard it before, in another time, or another life. A beach somewhere, with sand, and the salty brine of the ocean breeze. There came another vision, too. A vague, cloudy image of an Anuran, wearing a stupid, Human bomber jacket. He was yelling my name, tears welling in his eyes. Who was he?

I blinked away the images and urged the others on.

The soles of our envirosuits clanked softly against the floor as we pressed further into the compound, slithering through like silent, creeping animals. We passed through narrow, unintended corridors between rows and rows of towering blocks, which I could only guess were the AI's synthetic neural network. Soon enough, we'd find the AI mainframe, or central processor, or whatever the tech experts called it. Ampat would upload the virus and destroy it. The Icto would have to give up the war, surrender the Icto Gate, and cease any further attempts to wrench Interspace control from our Wyn masters.

At last, we reached another set of doors. The Golian knelt on his two twiggy legs, peering through his scope behind us.

Ampat looked down at his techpad. "If the schematics are correct, the AI core should be just behind these doors. It'll take me a bit, but I can get us in."

"Then get to it," I said. "Let's hope the intel was correct."

With one hand, Yan'nu clutched his head, and he placed the other on the door. That creepy, third eye glimmered. "Yes. It is as the Elder foresaw, and as I have sensed."

"What do you mean?"

"An enemy we have fought for aeons. The true enemy."

"Enough with the mystic nonsense. Give it to us straight."

Ampat gestured in quiet celebration. "We're in."

The doors slid open with a hiss. Objective Three complete.

Below us, down a steep ramp, was a floating orb, no larger than a melon. A sickly green light emanated from it, casting its glow on the walls and floors around us. Beneath it was a simple console. But behind it was something none of us expected to see - a structure, triangular in shape, spinning and spinning, until the center revealed the white and black of Interspace.

I stood as still as a statue, mouth hanging loose. "It's a..."

"The Elder was correct," Yan'nu said. "The Icto have constructed not one, but two Gates of their own. They tamper with a power they do not understand."

"They understand it enough to have built it," Ampat said. "Don't you think?"

"Emulating something does not equate to understanding it. It is merely a slipshod copy. We must destroy it, along with the AI. Celyrian, begin your task. Tresedi, do you have sufficient explosives?"

I nodded. "I have two disintegrator bombs. Is that sufficient enough for you?"

Yan'nu stayed silent, as if considering it. "That will have to do."

I trotted down the ramp, past the glowing orb. To think that millions of lives had been lost due to a little piece of machinery. All because the Wyn didn't like their subjects figuring out how the Gates worked. The end of the war couldn't come soon enough.

I knelt next to the swirling Icto Gate, priming the disintegrators to go off remotely. Once we were out of the compound, I'd flip a simple switch, and boom. No more Icto Gate. At least, I hoped there'd be nothing salvageable left.

As I stood up again, the red eye screamed at me once more. Thick tendrils wrapped around my arms and legs, dragging me down. My knees struck the sturdy, metal floors. I tried to shout for help, but another tendril squirmed around my neck, squeezing my throat with a vice-like grip. The eye laughed at me, at my desperate attempts to rip myself free.

"Jord!" a voice called for me. "Look away!"

The Anuran ran toward me, his arms reaching out. Although I didn't know who he was, I reached out to him, hoping he'd help somehow. Our hands touched, and my vision returned in a flash of white.

The disintegrators remained at my feet. I looked around. Ampat was at the console with Yan'nu hunched over him. The Golian stood watch at the entrance.

I'd had another vision. Was I going insane? "C'mon, Pirt," I murmured to myself. "Can't lose your head now."

I rejoined the others just as Ampat reported in. "Another three minutes, and the AI will be completely wiped."

"And I assume the explosives are set?" Yan'nu asked. His third eye appeared, as if it were scanning my soul or life essence.

"Yes, Lord Yan'nu."

"Excellent. You have done well, my—"

With a thwack, something struck Yan'nu's bony torso. Emerald-green blood sprayed onto my envirosuit and visor. Frantically, I tried to wipe it clear enough to see. Yan'nu clutched his chest and sank to the floor. Ampat cursed as the Golian returned fire down the corridor. I urged Ampat to finish the job. We'd hold them off long enough.

Down the corridor were five or so Icto mechs, firing their arm-mounted, heavy blasters, taking care not to hit their precious, glowing orb. I dove to the floor and sprayed beautiful, red death back at them, my plasma cannon chugging with each round.

I felt a tug at my leg and glanced back. Yan'nu was still alive, but barely. With grasping hands, he slid himself closer. He spoke softly into my ear. I couldn't hear anything over the gunfire. But, he continued to crawl toward me, a pool of green forming around him. He grasped my shoulder, and with his dying breath, he said, "Pray for the Eye." His grip loosening, he slumped to the floor, lifeless.

Ampat yelped as two rounds struck his legs. His envirosuit started to hiss and depressurize. If he didn't get that sealed, he would undoubtedly suffocate.

"How's it coming?" I asked, destroying two of the mechs. Another was taken down swiftly by the Golian.

"Another minute!" he grunted between cries of pain. "My suit is compromised, Jord! I'm not going to make it!"

"You will! Just do your job, and I'll get you out of here!"

That minute stretched and dilated to what felt like fifteen. The Golian and I destroyed the last two mechs. Behind us, the floating orb drifted slowly toward the floor, its green aura fading as it fell. It crackled and whirred in defiance, like it couldn't give up its short spark of life. Then, finally, it glowed no more, like a single candle in a dark, empty room, snuffed out by the breeze from an open window.

I rose from the floor to check on Ampat. "You did it, little guy! You did it!"

But there was no response. Beneath his visor, his mouth hung open. His giant, black eyes were clouded, lifeless. He was the true hero as he gasped for that last breath just before the end. I don't know why, but seeing Ampat's face like that made me sick to my core. Even after watching hundreds — no, thousands — die over the four decades of my career, I'd never been rattled before. Now, I couldn't move. I didn't want to move. I could only look at his dead eyes.

The Golian slapped my arm and signed: Still time. Must go now.

"You're right," I said. "Let's get out of here before more show up. Hey, Martin, we did it. The AI's been neutralized."

With all I had in me, I raced through the maze of the dead AI's neural network. Just when we reached the exit, another team of mechs fired on us — although, this time, they didn't have to be careful. Blaster rounds seared holes into the metal between us, one nicking my suit. The intense heat of the Icto homeworld seeped into my suit, slowly cooking me alive. But, I kept running. I had to. Just the thought of turning around to fire back would sign my death certificate.

There was one last chance for survival. I detonated the bombs. I couldn't see, but I could hear the compound rapidly disappearing with the sound of gnashing teeth. Our pursuers must've been swallowed up, as well. The blaster fire ceased.

We dashed through the turret array, still disabled from earlier, and through the long, craggy terrain leading to the landing zone. The heat intensified, blazing hot, hotter than any summer day on Hanza. We were so close, just over the ridge.

Our ship descended from the lightning-filled skies, kicking up thick clouds of dust. "Just in time, boys," Commander Martin's voice crackled. "Where're the others?"

"Dead! Now, get us out of here!"

We leapt up the boarding ramp as it closed behind us. I crashed to the floor as Commander Martin sent our ship screaming into the atmosphere, the sheer force of gravity crushing me into the cabin floor. I ripped off my helmet, breathing the cool, crisp air.

The Golian followed suit and signed: Close. Very close.

I gave him a thumbs-up. His shoulders and torso shook with silent laughter.

Another few minutes later, and we had rejoined the last of the fleet, who had ceased bombing the surface of Icto II. No doubt, they were beginning their retreat. The Golian and I joined Commander Martin in the cockpit. Her long bangs bounced as she blew a huge breath of relief.

"I can't say I've ever shit my pants on a mission before," she said. "But, I came pretty close back there."

Normally, a joke like that would've made me laugh. Instead, I remained silent, just watching the fleet through the viewing port.

"I'm sorry about Ampat," she said. "You two seemed kind of close."

"Just get us out of here. About time this damn war is over."

"THE WAR HAS ONLY BEGUN."

I jumped. "What was that?"

"I didn't hear anything," Commander Martin said. "Why don't you lay down and rest? You've been through a lot, Pirt. We all have."

"Yeah, you're right."

I stepped around the Golian and returned to the cabin, resting my head on the hull. Just before I could close my eyes, the ship rumbled. I leapt back to my feet, ready to head for the escape pod, in the event that the ship was sawed in half by Icto lasers. The ship rumbled longer and louder. Red light pierced through the viewing ports, creating a crimson tinge on the cabin walls.

"What is happening?" I asked anyone who'd answer.

"YOU ARE MINE NOW, MORTAL. SOON, YOU WILL ALL BE MINE."

My eyes searched the room for the source of the sinister voice. "Where the hell are you? Who are you?"

"I AM OBLIVION. ALL WHO HAVE FACED ME NOW RESIDE HERE. THEIR MINDS ARE ETERNALLY DAMNED TO TWIST AND ROT. YOU ARE A BABE AMONGST SLATHERING BEASTS."

"What is this? Some kind of dream?"

"IN TIME, YOURS SHALL FADE. YOU WILL BE NAUGHT BUT A HOLLOW SHELL. AN EMPTY VESSEL."

"No, this isn't real!" I slammed against the hull. If it was a dream, I could float away into space. That thing, whatever it was, couldn't get me. Then, I'd wake up, back on Harland. Melville. Sai. Sai!

"Sai!"

The creature just laughed at me. His voice crushed me. The red eye sucked at the seams of whatever dimension, or dream, or plane of existence it was. With all my might, I held onto the cabin seats. The fingers of my fleshy hand slipped. But, my cybernetic hand held strong, resolute. I couldn't let go.

"SAI!"

CHAPTER TWENTY

Thanks For Everything

With speed and determination, Glennsworth led me to a large patch of coffee-colored, dirt-sand mixture along one edge of the road. He tossed away the branches and twigs of deadwood and ripped out the few overgrown weeds that remained. Some small rocks and pebbles were scattered about, so he snatched those up and threw them out into the jungle. He nodded and looked content now that he had his clear canvas on which to draw out the plan. Whatever it was, it better have been good. Then again, I had no room to complain, given the direness of the situation.

He pointed to the middle of the dirt-sand patch. "Stand there."

I looked at him with an arched brow, suspicious of his intent. "Are you going to cast some sort of spell on me?"

"Nothing of the sort."

I stepped into the center. With the metal rod, he drew a giant circle around me. He drew five smaller circles, each with a different symbol. From those five circles, he created a star, like the one from the temple and the cover of his book. Now, I was really nervous. Why was he having me stand in the middle of it?

"What is this?" I asked. "I see this symbol everywhere. In the temple, it was on the statue, on the slab, on the book cover... now, here."

He looked around at his creation, as if to make sure it was correct, then met my gaze. "It is a symbol of great power. There are many others, but I neither have the time nor the patience to elaborate."

I crossed my arms. "And how is a symbol going to help us against an elder daemon? How do we kill him?"

"I see this is something I need to explain to you. But, I will keep it brief for simplicity's sake. Daemons are creatures of Interspace, and therefore, they cannot physically enter our universe - Realspace - unless summoned. The opposite is true for us. However, we have the Wyn Gates, which allow us to enter their realm at will. Understand thus far?"

I nodded.

He continued. "For a daemon or spirit to be summoned, the summoner must perform the correct ritual and recite an incantation. Summoning rituals require an offering. A physical sacrifice, so to speak, for the daemon to consume. That temple the Melvillians discovered was used specifically for this purpose."

"Okay, I get all that. But, you still haven't answered my question. How do we kill Shen'roth?"

"Seeing as how our adversary possesses the ability of extreme cellular regeneration — which the texts did not mention — we have two options: Destroy him outright with an extraordinary amount of firepower—"

"Like a nuke," I said.

He shot me a hard look. "Which we do not have. Or, we use this."

I looked down at the symbol. "So, what does this do?"

"The Pentacle is utilized in two rituals: The aforementioned summoning ritual, or the banishment ritual."

I pointed at him and leapt from the circle. "You're going to sacrifice me to banish Shen'roth! I knew you were up to no good."

"Calm down, fool. I don't need you for that. Shen'roth is the sacrifice. Once he is gone — and if my theory is true — the hex over Jord and the others will be lifted. They will be free once more."

For a minute, I let his words sink in. Of course! We were sending him back, not bringing him there. A smirk crept onto my face, and I pointed at him. "You're a damn genius, Glennsworth. I should have trusted a wise, old wizard like you. You've probably done a hundred of these."

"Not exactly."

"A dozen of these?" I cocked my head.

"This will be my first banishment."

"Whoa, you're kidding me! You've never done this before?"

Glennsworth was silent as he stared off into the distance. My heart sank. I knew by his silence that he was about to tell me something I did not want to hear. He said, "I haven't been completely honest with you about who I am... about my abilities."

"What do you mean?"

With a heavy sigh, he said, "I am an Initiate within a secret organization named the League of the Arcane."

"An Initiate?" I asked. "So, you weren't kidding when you said you were a student. You're not a real professor."

He nodded. "In part. But, I assure you, I can do this... with your help."

"I haven't been completely honest with you, either," I said, kicking a twig away. "This was actually the company's first contract. So, there's that."

"I see," he said. "A couple of amateurs."

We were both quiet. Whishing, cool gusts and the rumble of thunder filled the air. The storm crawled closer to us, like the looming threat of Shen'roth himself. Despite us both being two different types of screw-ups, our current problems were the same. We needed to get rid of that daemon and save those people's lives. All I knew was that I had the chance to make everything right again. I'd save Jord and the company. My life might have been a starship sinking into a black hole, but I could still course-correct. I could still fix this.

"Now that we've dumped all our secret cargo out of the airlock," I said, "what's your plan? How do we do this?"

"I need you to distract Shen'roth while I perform the ritual," he said, then reached into a his robes to reveal a vial of yellow liquid with hunks of debris floating in it. "At each of the five points, I must place a drop of this. Otherwise, it will not work."

"What is that?"

"Ground sage, sandalwood, frankincense, lunaberry, and vileworm. Do not ask me why or how they work, but the book says to use them. Once the Pentacle is completed, I will recite the incantation. If done correctly, Shen'roth will be banished."

"And if you don't do it right?"

He looked at me dead in the eyes. "Then, we die."

"I guess I'd better get my shotgun." I sighed. "See you at the beach."

"Be quick; we haven't much time left before the ward wears off."

****

Lightning split the skies in half. Azure gave way to grayish-black clouds, and the sun was swallowed whole. Raindrops crescendoed from a slight trickle to a torrential downpour. In desperation, healthy citizens erected a tarp on thin, metal beams to provide a makeshift shelter for their wounded comrades. Rainwater fell from the tarp and made the sand moist and mud-like. It was pathetic, like something out of a survival movie, but at least the wounded kept dry.

I found Glennsworth kneeling next to Doctor Rupert. He cut open the black, blood-crusted splint over her shin. She winced as he spread a mushy, green salve over the exposed bone.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

He rewrapped her shin with gauss cloth. "This should heal in a day's time."

Though she looked skeptical, she nodded her head and looked at me as I approached.

I knelt next to her. "Are you all right?" It was a stupid question. Of course, she wasn't all right. All anyone had to do was look around and know nothing was going right, and everything was going wrong.

"I'll probably need a cane or cyber-prosthetic to walk for the rest of my life," she said and blew sweaty, matted locks of hair out of her face. A man screamed behind her as the medical staff tended to his mangled arm. "But, the others will be lucky just to survive."

"You should go with the cane," I half-joked. "It's classier, and you'll look more distinguished."

"Not the best comedic timing," she said, grimacing. "How are you? I'm sorry about Jord."

I shook my head. "Don't be. It's part of the job."

She lay her head back and winced again. "What do we do now? The project; it's finished."

"I'm going to finish the job," I said. "My end of the contract hasn't been fulfilled. I owe it to you all."

"Sai," she said. "You saw what that thing — that monster — can do. You'll die. You owe us nothing. You saved us, even if it was just for a night. Don't think you need to be suicidal to prove anything."

She didn't understand. I needed this. All my life, I'd done nothing but skate by and take the easy route. My parents had been right – I'd squandered my talents and had never given them the chance to flourish. Like the lazy sack of shit that I was, I was ready to go right back to the easy route if given the chance. How weak and delusional had I been to not see what I could do? They'd seen it in me. Jord had seen it in me, too.

"If that's what it takes, then that's what it takes," I said. "I have a shot to turn this around, and nothing is going to stop me."

A fierce gust carried bone-chilling shrieks from the dome tunnel into the wounded camp. Shen'roth waited for us.

Glennsworth grabbed my shoulder. "We must go now. The ward will be wearing off shortly."

Doctor Rupert sat up. "Sai, don't go."

I took her hand. "Are there any starship pilots here?"

"There's one helping in the infirmary," she answered. "But—"

"Get as many people aboard my ship as you can. If we don't come back in thirty minutes, take off and send out a distress signal. There's enough food and water to get by for a week. Take care of Jord for me. If he ever gets his mind back, tell him I said, 'Thanks for everything'. Let's go, Glennsworth."

I let go of her hand and turned away. She snatched my hand, pulled me in close, and kissed my cheek. "You're the bravest Anuran I've ever met."

Whoa. I recoiled, totally not expecting that. My cheeks flushed blue.

Another shriek came from the tunnel — a reminder of what was to come. Glennsworth urged me on. Doctor Rupert let go of my hand. I cocked my shotgun and undid the safety. My boots sank into the sopping wet sand as I trudged down the beach.

We approached the tunnel, and I looked back at the camp one last time. Doctor Rupert stared at me, a look of despair on her face. I didn't know what else to do, other than give her a slight nod. She mouthed the words: Good luck.

I turned to Glennsworth. "You ready?"

He smirked. "It's not a question of my readiness, but of Shen'roth's."

I chuckled. "Well, I'm glad you're optimistic."

We descended into the tunnel and disappeared into the darkness.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Finish This Thing

My boots slapped through the rain in the flooded tunnel. Water splashed against my trousers and jacket with every step. The fluorescent lights that once illuminated the tunnel flickered dimly, as if they, too, were at the edge of life and death. They signaled what waited for us - our agonizing end at the hand of the nightmarish elder daemon, waiting at his sick altar of death.

Up ahead, the end of the tunnel was brightly lit. At least some of the lights in the ruins still worked, so we wouldn't have to fight him in complete darkness.

As we got closer, my heart thumped harder and increased in pace, like an engine revving up. My throat stiffened; it was parched when I swallowed down my rising fear. My guts twisted into knots, as if they were trying to stop bile from creeping up my esophagus. My breathing became heavy and labored as I tried to calm my nerves. A shaky aim wasn't going to help either of us. I said a silent prayer to any of the Pantheon who would listen — if any of them even existed. Right now, the only thing that I knew existed was the living, breathing incarnate of evil up ahead. If the Pantheon were all just myths or folklore, then Glennsworth and I were the only things standing in Shen'roth's murderous path.

So be it.

"You know, you never told us why you really came to Melville," I said, keeping my eyes forward.

"Yes, I did," Glennsworth said. "To evade capture by my fellow members of the order and to investigate the creature plaguing this place."

"Yeah, you said that. But is this what you guys do? Are you guys daemon hunters or something?"

He chuckled. "You have a wondrous imagination."

"No, I'm serious. What good is all that power if you don't use it? I wish I could do half of what you can."

"Perhaps when we have the time, I'll tell you. Let us finish the task at hand first."

"You're such a cryptic bastard."

We entered the dome. Mutilated bodies of the deceased littered the area. Their blood stained the sand around them a sickening brownish-red, and the stench of death thickened the air. Fish and strange, gelatinous aquatic life swam around the dome like they were ravenous spectators of some blood-sport, ready for the grand finale to begin. It reminded me of the old battle-royale movies I'd watched as a pollywog when my parents were asleep. I could still hear my mother's scolding voice when she caught me. If only she could have seen me now.

Black tentacles wrapped around the few standing pillars ahead of us. They constricted the pillars and ripped them from the ground before tossing them aside like garbage. The mighty Shen'roth slithered forward and gave a long, mind-splitting scream, as if to say, "Hello, are you ready to die?"

I stepped forward. "Let's go, you ugly, disgusting piece of shit!"

I nodded to Glennsworth. We split in two; I went to the left; he went to the right. I hoped his magic trick was going to work. Aiming wildly, and not really caring which of his dozens of appendages I hit, I fired my shotgun. That gun might have been able to kill a vanar, but against something that big, I might as well have been throwing rocks at it.

A mass of black meat slammed down next to me. I rolled away and dodged another of Shen'roth's attacks. I blasted a hole in one of the tentacles, and thick, black goo sprayed onto my jacket. The elder daemon screamed and came at me with a sweeping attack from behind. Having been hit with that attack before, I leapt over its wounded limb. It whooshed under my boots. I landed behind it and fired at it, creating another oozing wound.

Across the dome, I could see Glennsworth, etching in the sand with his metal rod and pouring the vial of yellow liquid onto one of the star points.

"Glennsworth!" I cried. "How much longer?"

He darted across the room, drawing in the sand as he went. "Two-fifths of the way through!"

"That's it?!" I asked. Shen'roth swiped at me again, and I dove behind a large hunk of rubble, right onto a dead body. Its face had been mangled - the eyes, nose, and jaw were a bony, bloody mess inside the skull cavity, like a cannibal's stew. I gagged, shoved the grotesque corpse away from me, and started to dry-heave. I collected myself and peeked over the rubble. Glennsworth continued completing the Pentacle, but Shen'roth turned his attention toward him. I shouted at Shen'roth and fired a volley of shotgun slugs, each striking the swirling mass of limbs.

C'mon Glennsworth, you stupid bastard, I thought. Finish this thing.

Shen'roth turned his massive body and squirmed toward me. For a quick second, I wished I hadn't done that. With a few pairs of tentacles, he lifted his body, as if to get a better aim at me. Then, he lifted damn near the rest of his tentacles above him. If I didn't move fast, I was going to look worse than the guy with the smashed face. In fact, my whole body would look like that.

With all the speed and force I could muster, I hurled myself over the rubble and sprinted like mad toward him. My leg muscles screamed at me, begging me not to move any faster, but I ignored their cries. With a furious flurry of blows, he slammed his black appendages of death at me, each landing a foot closer to crushing me into a pile of green goop. I ducked under his chitinous shell and tumbled through the sand. It dug at my neck and the back of my head, rubbing it bloody and raw. I cursed and felt it with my free hand. My palm was covered in blue blood. I wiped it away on my trousers.

Glennsworth shouted behind me. "One more side!"

"Hurry up, damn it!" I yelled back at him. "I can't distract him much longer!"

Shen'roth came at us again with relentless rage, his shrieks rumbling the glasteel dome. I tried to guide him away from Glennsworth, shouting obscenities and firing my shotgun like a mad adolescent on a shooting spree. Still holding himself up, Shen'roth scurried at me and unleashed another flurry of blows. I leapt, zigged, zagged, and rolled in the most intense, life-or-death cardio routine I'd ever done in my life. Blood and sweat trickled down my entire face and head, and ran down into my eyes, blurring my vision blue. My knees and ankles buckled as my exhausted legs gave out. I collapsed to my knees. A hulking tentacle flung me into the glasteel dome, and the air escaped from my lungs. My shooting arm cracked, and screaming, stabbing pain shot up the nerves of my arm. I cried out in agony when I tried to move it. The bones clicked and clacked, shooting more pain up my arm. It dangled across my chest, limp and useless.

I recited another silent prayer to the Pantheon as I anticipated another blow — the one to end my miserable existence. This was it — the last moment of life, lying on the sand at the bottom of the ocean with a shattered arm, trying to stop an ancient evil I'd never known existed until a day ago. Who was I, a commercial pilot, to think I had even a glimmer of hope to stop Shen'roth, the Elder Daemon of Deception? If I were to tell that story to anyone else, they would have told me I was a drunken, idiotic liar. In that final moment, I was okay with that. At least, I knew the truth - that maybe, deep down in the recesses of my soul, I was capable of great things.

I closed my sand-crusted eyes, took a deep breath, and silently wished Glennsworth good luck. But, the blow never came. With my remaining good arm, I pushed myself up onto my butt and rested my aching body against the dome.

Far on the opposite end of the dome, Glennsworth slung the metal rod into the air and batted away Shen'roth's attacks, but I could tell he was at his limit. He was going to die. It was only a matter of time. I had to help, but how? What could I have possibly done in that state? Even if I had distracted Shen'roth for a few seconds, would it have been enough time for Glennsworth to complete the ritual?

Given the situation, it was about all I had. I had already come to terms with and accepted my fate. I was ready for death.

With my good arm, I reached for my shotgun and aimed at Shen'roth, using one of my knees to hold the gun steady. I didn't care what part of its body the slug hit, as long as it hit the mammoth-sized, black daemon.

I pulled the trigger. Click. No recoil. Shit! I was out of ammunition! Frantic and awkwardly, I searched my belt for a slug. Just one, that was all I needed. In one of my belt pockets, I found a magazine. I counted the rounds - four. Four was better than one. I used my other knee to hold the shotgun and loaded the magazine. The sweet, clicking sound massaged my earholes as a slug slid into the chamber. I heard Glennsworth shout and looked up to see him being held over Shen'roth's sinister, toothy maw.

I aimed at Shen'roth's mouth and fired. The slug fell short, but struck his shell. He shrieked, louder than ever before, and a crack shot up the side of the dome. Seawater trickled onto the sand. He flailed wildly and flung Glennsworth into the sand about thirty feet away from me.

I called to him. "Glennsworth! You still alive?"

He lifted himself up and hacked out a mouthful of sand. I sighed in relief. I glanced back over at Shen'roth. His shell flickered and dimmed like the fluorescent lights in the tunnel.

My mind transported me to the wetlands of Anura. My shotgun was aimed at the vanar. Jord whispered into my ear, "Remember, always aim for the weak spot."

Of course! The Elder Daemon of Deception! The shell was merely an illusion, just like whatever alternate reality terrorized the minds of Jord and the dementia patients in the infirmary.

"Pray for the Eye!" I cried. My muscles screamed as I rose from the sand, shotgun in hand. "Jord, this one's for you, buddy. Good luck with the company."

"Sai!" Glennsworth yelled. "You fool! What are you doing?"

I looked back at him. "Finish the ritual. Send this bastard back to where he came from."

With every aching step, I trudged through the scattered corpses in the sand. Shen'roth turned toward me.

"I'm sorry; did that hurt?" I asked. "Are you pissed that a puny, little mortal has bested you?"

Shen'roth screamed and charged at me. I fired another round at his shell. He recoiled in pain, and the shell flickered once more and disappeared, revealing Shen'roth's mushy, gelatinous body. I fired at him again, and the round blasted another hole in his soft flesh. Black goo oozed from the gaping wounds and splattered against the sand.

One round left; better make it count.

The wounded monster opened his mouth, and the red eye appeared. It glowed bright red, bathing my body in its evil, mind-warping power. Oblivion crept over my mind as it was filled with flashing images of a fiery, ash-strewn, hellish landscape. Thousands — no, millions — of Wyn screamed in horror. A sweeping tidal wave, hundreds of feet high, crashed into them, sweeping them all away to drown in the dark depths of the ocean.

I shouted in defiance, forced my gaze away, and continued my slow march toward him. He snatched my legs up and squeezed tightly as he held me over his eye. With my last slug, I blasted the tentacle that held my legs.

I fell into his teeth-filled mouth. It slammed shut behind me, and I was surrounded in complete darkness.

I felt liquid sloshing underneath my boots. An intense heat came over them, and they began to sizzle. I slammed my good shoulder against the slimy, fleshy wall behind me. The leather of my jacket sleeve burned and boiled in the slime. What a way to go - being boiled alive in digestive bile. I would have rather been pummeled to death.

A red glow illuminated my surroundings. Bones and still-disintegrating meat decorated the walls of Shen'roth's mouth. I looked up, and the red eye stared me down, its wicked gaze intensifying with a red glow.

Those terrible images filled my mind once more, and a voice hissed in my ear, "PATHETIC MORTAL! NO ONE FACES THE POWER OF THE GREAT SHEN'ROTH AND LIVES TO TELL THE TALE! PREPARE YOURSELF FOR THE ABYSSAL DEPTHS OF OBLIVION!"

The eye swirled from a fiery red to a bright, piercing white. It flashed and blinded me. I screamed. My mind felt as if it were being strangled by a pair of massive hands. With complete desperation, I reached out in front of me. I felt a long stalk with my one good hand. I gripped it tight, and with every ounce of strength I had left, I pulled it toward me.

"YOU INSOLENT FOOL! ACCEPT YOUR FATE!"

"Shut your filthy mouth and accept yours!" I yelled.

I tugged and pulled. Something started to give as its eyestalk began to tear at my feet. I took a deep breath, and with one last tug, I ripped the stalk free. Shen'roth screeched, and I felt him move. The meaty floor beneath me shifted upward, and I fell against the rows of teeth, slashing cuts into the back of my jacket. The sizzling bile splashed all over me and burned my exposed skin and clothes.

Then, there was light again as I tumbled out of Shen'roth's mouth and onto the sand. I frantically ripped off my boots and jacket. Something grabbed me by the torso and pulled me away from the flailing daemon.

"We must get outside the Pentacle!" I heard Glennsworth say. He set me aside and knelt just near the edge of the Pentacle, then screamed, "SHEN'ROTH KAAR N'YORR SHI'NABB! SHEN'ROTH FIL NORT ICKTH'NAER NAAK THAL'MIIR AZAAR'SHNA!"

White and black beams of light fired up from the sand and out through the top of the dome. They blared in five dissonant pitches, like a cacophony of horn instruments. Shen'roth's tentacles slammed against the side of the dome, as if in a fleeting attempt to escape. The glasteel cracked a bit more with every blow. Quickly, the dissonant tones shifted, lowering and raising in pitch until they were in complete, beautiful, five-part harmony. The beams of light shone with what I could only describe as divine brilliance, and Shen'roth was gone. His reign of terror over Melville had ended.

I slumped to the sand, completely and utterly spent of energy. Glennsworth inhaled heavy breaths of air and fell next to me. "I... I did it. The banishment ritual works..."

"Not bad for your first time." I laughed weakly. I winced as pain shot up my arm. "Please, tell me you have more of that mystical, green paste."

"I'll have to make more," he said and rose to his feet. "Not too shabby for a man of your stature."

"The credit's all yours. I was just a fly, shitting on Shen'roth's picnic."

Glennsworth gave a nice, loud, belly laugh. Then, he leaned over and put his hand out to me. "Let us leave this place, Fly Cadel."

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Fish Food

Before I even got to my feet, there was a loud series of cracking sounds from across the ruins. The glasteel Shen'roth had stricken repeatedly was giving way under the weight of the ocean. The metal support beams whined as they bent inward. There was already a constant spray from other parts of the dome that created wide, long, shallow pools about the ruins. The cracks continued to splinter and chip the dome. Small streams poured down and around us. The moistened sand became thick between my bare toes.

"I get the feeling that dome isn't going to last much longer," I said as I clutched my broken arm.

"I concur," Glennsworth said. "Come; back up the tunnel we go."

Rainwater poured down the tunnel like a miniature waterfall. The vicious storm above must have intensified even further. As I walked toward the mouth of the tunnel, my feet splashed in a pool of ankle-high water. I could only begin to imagine how bad the storm had gotten. Some of the water tasted salty, as if the tides had risen and begun to drain into the ruins, as well. I pointed this out to Glennsworth, whose blue robes looked about two times heavier when drenched.

Cool water splashed against my body as I tried to walk up the smooth, wet, metal floors of the tunnel. My feet slid backward. To avoid hurting my arm any further, I twisted onto my back and buttocks as I fell, slid down, and landed in the shallow pool like it was a theme park water slide. Glennsworth maintained a steady pace for a little longer, but was eventually overcome by the slick, steep gradient. We glanced at one another and sprinted up it this time. We made it a tad further, but quickly slid back down. Another go, same result. The pool was rising slightly higher by the second. Now, it was up to my shins.

"How are we supposed to get up there?" I asked. "No way we're going to climb two-hundred feet up if we can't even make it twenty feet."

Glennsworth stood there silently, as if in deep thought. A sudden group of whines, cracks, and pops made me jump up and look behind us. The dome still held, but there was no way it would have continued to hold. I looked back at Glennsworth, who walked toward the tunnel. He produced the metal rod from his dripping robes.

"I have an idea," he said.

The sand swirled between my toes as I stepped closer to hear his plan. "What are you thinking?"

He held the rod out in front of us. "Hold onto this. I will try to levitate us through."

With my one good arm, I grabbed a hold of the metal rod. My hand and arm felt weird at first; that the same pins-and-needles feeling from back at the Hub. Together, we were lifted into the air. Glennsworth's feet graced the top of the growing pool of water, while my legs dangled below me. We sped up and flew through the flooded tunnel. Water splashed against my clothes and face. I squinted my eyes to protect them and tightened my slipping grip.

We made it halfway through before the flowing sound of the water amplified. Through my squinted eyes, I could see a turbulence in the water. It looked thick, and it scraped against the walls of the tunnel like sandpaper against metal. All remaining light escaped and left us in pitch-darkness.

I panicked. I couldn't see anything, not even my hand in front of me. A wall of sand, shells, and dead twigs slammed into us. My shattered arm radiated with sharp pain. The sand rubbed my skin sore and raw. I shut my mouth and held my breath, in case I was about to be buried alive.

Glennsworth's floating rod was no match for the sheer force of the flooding sand, and we were pushed back down into the base of the dome. Floodwater piled the sand in a giant mound in front of the tunnel, like we were trapped inside the bottom end of an hourglass. The water level was now at my knees.

"Got any more magic tricks in that book of yours?" I asked, while I held my arm steady to avoid any more jolts of pain.

He flipped through the pages for a minute or two, running his fingers up and down them. Then, he slammed the book shut and looked at me. "Unfortunately, I am all out of ideas. We will have to use more conventional means of escape."

"What did you have in mind?" I pointed to the spraying cracks in the dome. "Because that's not getting any better."

"What if I break a section of the dome, and we swim out?" he suggested.

I shook my head. "No way. We'll drown before we get to the surface."

"I was under the impression Anurans could breathe underwater. Did you not evolve in an extremely wet biome?"

"We can only breathe underwater when we're children, before we hit puberty. And besides, we could only breathe freshwater. We'd choke to death in the ocean."

"That is a shame," he added. "It may be our only choice at the moment, given the circumstances."

"I'm sorry; I just escaped being eaten by an Elder Daemon," I said. "I've been through too much to drown. There has to be another way out of here."

We were both silent for a time, searching and thinking of a way to escape drowning to death. We went to the flooded temple to see if there were any hidden passages or compartments, but there was nothing.

The dome started to shake, as if struggling against the tremendous weight and power of the ocean. With a loud shatter, shards of the glasteel dome plummeted toward us. Glennsworth and I leapt under a crumbling pillar to protect ourselves from being lacerated into ribbons. Hundreds of gallons of water dumped into the dome, along with aquatic life and the occasional school of fish.

Quickly, our bodies rose with the water level. We floated closer and closer toward the top of the unbroken dome, where a temporary air pocket had formed. A sort of undercurrent was created as the water poured in, dragging anything under that swam too close to it.

Despite my objections, I was certain I was going to drown. The air pocket diminished with every passing second. I couldn't keep myself afloat with just my one arm and my already-exhausted legs. The water rose overhead as I sank underwater.

Glennsworth grabbed me be the shirt and pulled me up. "Don't tell me your people are bad swimmers, as well?" he joked.

"It's not that easy swimming with one arm," I said through a mouthful of seawater. I spit it out and looked around. There was no way out. Even if I tried to swim for the opening, I'd be pulled to the bottom by the undercurrent, where I'd spend the rest of eternity. Little fish and crustaceans would peck and pluck at my rotting remains, filling their bellies with hunks of Anuran flesh.

I looked Glennsworth in the eyes. "Thanks for showing me a part of the universe that I didn't know existed. It's been one damn exciting week of my life. Nice knowing you — while it lasted, anyway."

He furrowed his brow. "What are you saying?"

"I don't think I'm going to make it out of here alive. You might have a chance if you leave me here."

"No need to give up now, Sai," he said. "We shall get through this yet."

"Look at me; I'm useless," I said. "You should go on without me. I'll only get you drowned, too."

"No," Glennsworth said as he shook his head. "You could have left the planet like a coward and allowed everyone to die. But, you stayed and helped me defeat Shen'roth. I refuse to leave you behind. Not like this."

"Just go, Glennsworth. I'm fish food."

The water was up to our necks. We had only a foot of air left before the pocket and the rest of the dome would be completely filled.

"Take a deep breath!" he yelled and gulped a lungful of air. He snatched my arm and dragged me under. I tried to fight him off me to give him a decent chance of getting out alive. But, my one weak limb could do nothing to stop him, and he wrapped his arm around me tighter. With his other arm, he held out the metal rod, and we floated upward toward the surface. Below me, I could see the shattered dome and the completely-flooded ruins slowly fading into the darkness of the deep.

I looked back up once the dome had disappeared. We were hardly any closer, and I felt my precious oxygen supply depleting by the second. When it became too much to hold my lungs any longer, I slowly exhaled the now-spent, poisonous gas. Bubbles trailed behind us as we hopelessly floated toward safety. My vision started to fade, and my lungs begged for another breath.

A flash of white light came from above and blinded me. I resisted the urge to close my eyes, since I knew I was dying. I guessed that was what it felt like. Not the worst thing ever. It beat being digested alive inside Shen'roth's stomach acid. The light came closer to me, as if to say, "Come this way, little one. No more suffering for you. Welcome to eternal paradise."

The light shrank to a multitude of small circles. They looked like they were attached or fixed to some kind of structure. A glass orb was above them with a frightening, dark figure inside.

Shit, it wasn't paradise. It was damnation.

Before I could figure out where I'd gone wrong in my life to warrant an eternity in hell, the dark figure came into focus. It grabbed both Glennsworth and me in its two giant claws and went soaring toward the surface of the water. Through faded vision, I peered into the glass orb and grinned.

Glennsworth's banishment ritual had worked - Jord's mind was free again.

We surfaced. I gasped and refilled my lungs with sweet air. Jord brought us ashore. The construction mech's clutch loosened around my body and dropped me onto the beach. I just lay there and took breaths as the cold rain hit my face.

The orb hissed as it opened. Jord hopped out and ran to me. He grabbed me and shook hard. "Sai! Sai! Are you okay?"

My arm stabbed with pain. "Cut it out! You're hurting my arm!"

He wrapped his big arms around my head, pulled me in close, and squeezed. "Ha-ha! The little guy made it! I can't believe it!"

"I'd tell you to stop," I said with my face buried against his half-cybernetic, half-organic chest, "but because I love you like a brother, I'll let it slide this time."

"True love," Glennsworth said, then hacked up a chest-full of saltwater. "How wonderful."

"How did you know killing that thing would free my mind?" Jord asked. "I mean, that was some stroke of luck."

I nodded over at Glennsworth. "Long story, but wizard guy over here said it might work. So, we did it."

"I owe you, man," Jord said. He let me go and sat cross-legged next to me. Like a child at the beach, he played with the moistened sand, forming a mound between his palms. His mouth opened slightly, but he didn't speak. I could tell he was hesitant to say something, anything. Finally, the words came out.

"Listen, Sai... I'm sorry about before. About calling your old man a con. And calling you a mindless drone."

I groaned as I sat up. The pain in my lame, shattered arm went from a sharp stab to a throbbing ache. I cradled it with my good arm. "I won't lie, Jord-o. It hurt a little. It was like having your best friend step on your gonads and grind them to a pulp."

"I was trying to get it through your big-ass head that you have what it takes. Not just because of a book, either."

"Yeah, but you were a bastard about it."

"And despite that, you went in there, anyway."

"Because if I didn't, I would've lost my best friend. You would've done the same."

Jord smiled, reached out, and rubbed my head. "You're damn right! C'mon, let's get that arm checked out."

The three of us walked down the beach with the rain at our backs, completely drenched. Jord leaned in. "By the way, you weren't really going to fire me, were you?"

I socked him in the arm. "Let's just say, I reviewed your file and decided you're too valuable an employee. You're safe for now."

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Loverboy

In the days that followed the battle with Shen'roth, Jord, Glennsworth, and I stayed to help get Melville back in working order. We figured it was the least we could do after the near-complete destruction of the research site. It'd be bad branding for the company if we just took the fifty-thousand bitcreds and flew off into the sunset.

Many of the staff had been killed and needed their next-of-kin notified to make funeral arrangements. Those who were maimed and wounded were in dire need of basic care. So, we helped Doctor Rupert in the infirmary, until the rest of the patients had been stabilized. I think she even took an interest in Glennsworth's green herbal remedy, since it had worked wonders on her leg. Heck, since he'd rubbed it on my arm, it was nearly done healing. In the meantime, however, I kept it locked in place with a tight sling.

On our last night, when the waxing moon was high in the sky, the Melvillians decided to throw a little "thank you" shindig for us. It wasn't much - just a thing Humans call a "barbecue". They caught a heap of crustaceans and fish and cooked them over a grill. One crafty guy fashioned a makeshift smokehouse underneath the sand. The fumes of woodsmoke and burning coals tantalized my taste buds, and my mouth watered. I sipped on a beer to keep my mouth and stomach occupied as I waited for the delicious meal.

A few people brought me drinks, and shook my hand and whatnot. Some even called me a "hero". Talk about a total transition from how my life had been a little over a week ago. I considered myself the modest type, but it felt really good.

They say if you love your work, you'll never work a day in your life. I used to think that was total shit. Don't get me wrong; I loved flying and hauling stuff around the galaxy. Liberty Freight supplied me with that love for years. But now, I realized that I had been unsatisfied with my life. Sure, I'd had a decent job with decent pay, my own place, and plenty of my favorite craft beer. But it had been boring and safe, and left me feeling unfulfilled and useless.

So, did I love my new job? I was coming around to it.

Platters of smoky, char-grilled, sizzling food were slapped onto our table at what was left of the cabana. The storm had done a number on it, but thank the Pantheon, the bar survived. The fish was flaky and hot with spices, while the shellfish was so tender, it required only the smallest effort of chewing.

For the next two hours, we crammed our faces with succulent seafood and kept our drinks filled. When we had finished our feast, a much more sober Jord said, "You guys still haven't told me how you did it."

"Did what?" I asked. I took another sip, even though my belly felt like it was going to burst. I undid the top button of my trousers for more room.

"How you killed Shin'ray."

"Shen'roth," Glennsworth corrected. He patted his mouth and goatee clean of food debris with a napkin. "We did not kill him."

"Huh? Don't mess with my head, guys. It wasn't a pleasant experience the first time; believe me."

I let out a satisfying burp and sat up. "What Glennsworth means to say is that Shen'roth was unkillable. He came up with the crazy idea of using that magic book of his to banish Shen'roth back to Interspace."

"Banish?" Jord's cybernetic eye zoomed in on me. "I don't get it. Are you saying it came from Interspace? As in... it lives there?"

"I'll tell you when we fly out of here tomorrow morning," I said. "We're going to need something to do on the trip."

The three of us sat there for awhile. I closed my eyes and felt the ocean breeze against my face. Tell you what — being on the verge of death twice in one week really made me appreciate being alive.

I listened to Jord hum a song for a few minutes, pausing between verses to take a drink. It was good to have the big guy back.

I opened my eyes and looked at Glennsworth, who was staring out at the waves. I tapped him on the shoulder. "Say, Glennsworth, what are your plans after this?"

"I'm sorry?" he asked. "How do you mean?"

"Well, you planning on laying low for awhile? Working on some new spells?"

Glennsworth gave a deep, annoyed sigh. "For the last time, they aren't 'spells' or 'magic tricks' or 'the dark arts'. They're—"

"Yeah, yeah, you know what I meant." I cut him off before he could go on another tangent about his type of magic.

"I suppose..." He looked down at his mug of beer. "I might wait here for the next supply ship to arrive. I may help Doctor Rupert in the infirmary until then. Tend to the sick. Regardless, my work remains unfinished, and I must return to it in due time."

I studied his face. A part of me thought he wasn't being completely honest (once again). I leaned closer to him and took another sip. "You know, I was thinking about something the other day. Down there, when we were fighting Shen'roth, and all those people were dying, we held him off for quite some time."

"Well, if it were not for my abilities, we would have all died."

"That's true; I'll give you that," I said and pointed at him with my mug. "But when you think about it, we were a pretty good team down there, don't you think?"

"What are you trying to say?" he asked.

I looked over at Jord. The subtle furrow of his brow made me think he was either interested in or skeptical about what I was about to propose. I would have thought that, with his decades of experience, he had a good eye for talent. Although his mouth stayed still, his slight nod gave me the impression that he approved.

I looked back at Glennsworth. "I have a proposal for you. What would you say if I told you that Omnigalactic was accepting applications?"

Glennsworth squinted, and his eyes darted between me and Jord. "Are you offering me a job?"

"Yes," I answered.

"What kind of job did you have in mind?"

"Uh, well, its an entry-level position," I scrambled. I didn't know what to say, only that I wanted Glennsworth on the team. "So, that means you'll be doing field work with us, possibly interfacing with clients, some janitorial work from time to time, and really just helping maintain the ship as we go. How's that sound?"

Glennsworth squinted. "That sounds absolutely dreadful. I do not scrub latrines."

I smirked. "Well, I did say it was entry-level. However, there's a ton of opportunities to grow as an employee."

"I'll require a stipend, of course," he said, seeming more interested.

"Stipend?" I asked.

"How much are you offering to pay me?"

"How does five percent of every contract sound?"

"There's three of us," Glennsworth countered. "Naturally, I deserve a third of the cut."

Jord finished chugging his beer and joined in the salary negotiations. "Hey, smartass, we don't even make thirty-three percent a piece. By the time we pay overhead and resupply, we'll be lucky if we make thirty-three percent to split between us. Five percent is fair."

"Ten percent," Glennsworth said. "It is clear you two are in need of assistance."

I held my hand out in front of Glennsworth. "Seven-percent cut, and the company will supply your lodging and food. Final offer."

Glennsworth took one last swig of his beer, set the mug down, and shook my hand firmly. He grinned and shook Jord's hand, too. "It will be a pleasure working with you two gentlemen!"

I couldn't help but grin along with him. "Welcome aboard."

"Now, who is interested in another round to celebrate?"

****

The next day was the most gorgeous we'd seen since we arrived. The morning sun was bright and high in the sky. A steady, lukewarm ocean breeze graced the settlement. Birds left their jungle nests, soaring and diving like bullets into the sea for their breakfast, then landing on the beach to preen. It left me with a tangible sense of conclusion. An evil had tainted the peace of this little island, and I had been the one who'd destroyed it.

It piqued my curiosity, though. I started to ponder the possibilities of the company's future. It could have been an isolated incident of daemon activity, but with the existence of Glennsworth's secret organization, what if there were more? That book had an incredible amount of creatures in it. What if there were a bunch of them out there, terrorizing other parts of the galaxy? With Glennsworth on our payroll, it could be a service we provided - daemon control. Sure, I almost died trying to get rid of Shen'roth. But, the incredible feeling I'd gotten from saving the place was like a drug. I wanted more. Was that what the ancient warrior, Ritan, felt when he'd killed all those super-predators and saved the Anuran race from extinction? Surely, he'd had a run-in with death a few times.

With fifty thousand bitcreds in the company's coffers, and Melville now relatively back to its former operating norm, the three of us removed our things from the Brick and stowed them away on the Lady Luna. I double-checked that we had everything one last time, then headed for the landing pad.

I heard Doctor Rupert shout my name as I walked up the boarding ramp. I turned to her.

"Sai!" she called as she jogged toward me. "Wait!"

"What's up?" I asked. "Don't tell me Shen'roth is back."

She smiled and swept golden locks of hair from her face. "No, thank goodness. I just wanted to say goodbye before you left."

I looked up at her and struggled to say something that didn't sound stupid. "Oh, that's nice of you." Yep, that was stupid.

"Look, about the... you know... the kiss," she stuttered. "With everything crazy happening, and the storm, I wasn't thinking straight."

I waved it away. "Bah, don't worry about it. We were all a little crazy that day. Look at me; I walked into certain death like a maniac."

"That's what I wanted to talk about," she said. Her hair and lab coat blew in the gentle breeze. "What you did was an act of bravery. You could have left. It wasn't your problem, but you stayed to help."

I blushed. "Well, that's the Omnigalactic guarantee: We finish the job, or your money back."

"I know you didn't do it just for the money. I could see it in your eyes."

"People were in danger," I said. "And, I couldn't let that bastard get away with what he did. Not in good conscience. How would I sleep at night?"

"There need to be more people like you."

"C'mon, you're a doctor. You help those in need more than I do. More than I could ever do."

She knelt to my eye level and hugged me hard. She smelled of hospital sanitation supplies and saltwater. "Thank you, Sai. For everything."

When she let go of me, I asked, "What are you going to do now? What's next for Melville?"

She sighed. "I have to submit a report to the university. I think I'll leave out the whole Shen'roth part, though. Otherwise, they'll want to pull funding, and everything we've discovered here will be lost. Animal, daemon, whatever that thing was — they'll deem this place too much of a risk. But if I tell them it was just the storm, then perhaps, they'll build us the proper storm protection we need. I dunno, I'll figure it out somehow."

"You're a smart lady," I said. "You will."

Jord called from inside the Lady Luna, "Let's go, Sai!"

I smirked. "Well, I'd better get going. I wish you luck, Doctor Rupert."

"Drop the professionalism," she said. "We're friends now. Call me Ellen."

"Okay. I wish you luck, Ellen."

She smiled and nudged me in the arm. "Keep in touch, Sai. Don't be a stranger."

I nodded. "If you guys ever need us for anything, Omnigalactic will provide that service."

I turned and trotted up the boarding ramp. I looked back at her and waved one last time as the ramp hissed closed.

Jord followed me into the cockpit. I plopped myself down in the captain's chair and readied the ship for take-off. Through my peripheral vision, I saw Jord staring at me with a shit-eating grin. I ignored him, but he wouldn't stop.

"What?" I finally asked.

"I saw you two hugging and smiling at each other," he said, still grinning. "What'd she say?"

"She was just saying 'bye' and 'thank you' and whatnot," I answered.

"That's it?"

"That's it."

Jord pretended to be satisfied with my response. "If you say so. Loverboy."

"Don't act like you didn't hit on her as soon as we got here, Jord-o," I said. "What was it you said to me again? 'Not bad for the science-y type'?"

Jord held up his hands in defense. "Hey, I'm not denying she's a good-looking gal. I'm just pointing out that you two like each other."

"Yeah, well, it's just a friendly, business relationship. So, you can shoot that idea right out of the airlock."

Jord grinned sinisterly again. "Glennsworth told me you two kissed."

"That son-of-a—" I said. Jord laughed and slapped me on the shoulder. "It wasn't on the lips, you know. Just on the cheek."

He continued to laugh, but harder this time, clutching his guts. Between breaths, he said, "On the cheek! Right!"

"Just get your ass ready for take-off."

Jord walked out of the cockpit, laughing all the way down the corridor. Despite his asinine behavior, I was glad he was back to his old self. After everything that had happened, I wouldn't have had it any other way.

I engaged the prograde thrusters and pulled up on the flightstick, then blasted us into the atmosphere.

I guessed the only question that remained was: Where to next? We needed to resupply before we could even think about taking another job. We also needed to replace the weapons we'd lost in the fight with Shen'roth. And, I needed a new jacket. We could have gotten a deal with Jord's buddy, Marshall Suggs, and it might have been a good idea to make a goodwill payment to Valo. Therefore, Anura sounded like the best place to go.

I engaged the Interspace beacon as we approached the Harland system's Wyn Gate. I looked at Harland through the aft cameras and hoped Doctor Rupert — er, Ellen — and the others would be all right. "So long, Melville."

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Hand It Over

Before I could wipe the sweat off my face, the Lady Luna slammed to a halt. I jiggled the stick and thrusters around. No response. The ship still had power, though, so it wasn't the engines again, thank the Pantheon. What could it possibly have been now?

I checked the aft cameras. Behind us was a small, boxy, V-shaped mining vessel. What was a mining vessel doing out there? The klaxon sounded on the control console. I accepted the transmission.

"Well, well," a female voice said. I'd heard it once before, but couldn't quite put a face to it. "Look who thought they could get away from us."

I cocked my head in confusion. "I'm sorry; who am I speaking to?"

"Don't play us for fools," she said. "We know Daniel is aboard your ship. Hand him and the Grimoire over to us, and we will disengage the beam tether."

Ah, crap. It was those wizard guys again. Glennsworth's old pals.

"Glennsworth!" I called over the intercom. "Get up to the cockpit, now."

The clanking of boots signaled his arrival. "What is the problem?" he asked.

I nodded at the aft cameras, keeping my gaze fixed on them. "Your friends found us. They want to talk to you."

"Hello, Headmistress," he said in that uppity tone of his. "I'm so glad to see you again."

"Don't test my patience any further," she said. "You've exhausted that resource. In exactly one minute, we will board your ship, and you will come with us."

"Why don't we just escape?" he asked me.

"We're stuck," I said. "They've got us tethered."

He cursed. "I can't go back with them. I'll never complete my quest. We have to do something."

"Maybe we can cut a deal with them? Just give them the stupid book in exchange for your freedom."

"I need the Grimoire. Without it, I'm as good as lost."

A swirly, grayish portal opened on the bulkhead behind us. Two pairs of boots stepped through. Uh-oh. The Human female and Celyrian from the Hub stepped into the cockpit, uncomfortably close to us. I felt like they were going to lash out at me any second. Or maybe, they'd turn me into a bug and squish me. I winced at the thought.

The Human held out a gloved hand, her green robes glinting with silver pins. In a weird way, she pulled off the wizard look much better than my new employee did. Maybe it was the darkness in her eyes.

"Let's end this ridiculous chase, Daniel," she said. "Come with us."

"You're in serious trouble," the Celyrian added, cracking the knuckles on all four of his hands.

Glennsworth shook his head. "You will not stop me, Headmistress. Not while the answers are at my fingertips, and air is still in my lungs. The only chase, the only hunt, that will end is yours. Now, let us go."

She glared at him, then fixed her attention on me. "Anuran, you have no stake in this. This man is flirting with dark knowledge that will bring nothing but danger to you and your loved ones. Help us rid you of this burden."

Wow, she'd really laid it on thick there. If there was ever a time for second thoughts about Glennsworth joining the company, it was then. Was it really something I wanted to deal with? Battling ancient, daemonic forces whilst making a tidy profit?

Absolutely.

"No," I said. "You're trespassing on private property, and you will leave my vessel, right now."

She scoffed. "Why do you continue to help him?"

I glanced at Glennsworth, who looked me in the eyes. For a brief millisecond, in the fabric of space-time, we shared something - mutual respect for one another. We knew we needed each other in our own ways.

I looked back at her. "Because he's one of the little guys. Just like me. And, I don't take kindly to people threatening my employees. So, you can walk right out of that cool portal behind you and leave us alone."

She whispered something under her breath, and her hands began to glow with a black-and-white aura. With blazing quickness, Glennsworth whipped his metal rod from underneath his robes. He swung at them but collided with her glowing hands. Static crackled in the air. I leapt from my captain's chair and landed a swift kick to the Celyrian's groin. He stumbled back as I crashed to the floor, sending shocks up my still-healing arm.

A set of long arms appeared from behind them and wrapped around their necks. Jord locked his hands together and squeezed, strangling the both of them. With a raging grunt, he slung them around and tossed them through the portal. They landed back on their ship, and the portal flickered and disappeared.

"Persistent, aren't they?" he said.

"They've got us tethered!" I yelled. "Can you fix that?"

"I have an idea or two," he said and ran down the main corridor.

I hopped back to the ship's controls. "Glennsworth, you might want to find something to hold onto."

A boom and a flash of blue streaked toward the mining vessel, striking its side. It shook and began to spin in a ball of fire and smoke, hurdling away from us. I slammed on the thrusters. We were free!

I let out a whoop of victory and reengaged the Lady Luna's Interspace beacon. Up ahead, the Wyn Gate swirled, until the white and black of Interspace appeared. I accelerated to full throttle and blasted through.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Top of the World

The day we arrived on Anura and secured a temporary dock in Ritan City, I received an instamail from my mother. She wondered how I was doing and hoped that everything was going smoothly. I chuckled when I read that. If she'd known what I'd gone through, she'd probably have killed me. I opted to leave all that out.

At the very end of the message, she mentioned that whenever I was back in town, she and my father would have liked to have me over for dinner. I did miss her cooking, and I'd have loved to dive into a wedge of bog cheese.

I had an impromptu staff meeting with Jord and Glennsworth. We discussed our budget and what supplies we needed. A payment of ten-thousand bitcreds was transferred to Valo at the junkyard, to which his response was, "That's it? Hope there's more where that came from!" The nerve of that crusty old bastard. Anyway, I brought up the meeting with my parents, and Jord said I deserved a little rest and recreation.

So, we split up, and I took a taxi to the more upscale part of the residential district. When I say "upscale", I mean the rich part of town. The part where all the bankers, financial tycoons, athletes, celebrities, and the like lived. Domed mansions — some wide, some tall, some wide and tall — sparsely dotted one section of natural wetland and bogs. Nunu birds perched on the algae-encrusted trees and kept watch for predators. I didn't know what predators, because all the long-necked vanar lived outside the city limits. But, natural instinct never dies, I guessed.

The taxi pulled up to the Cadel Estate. I paid the fifty-two bitcred fare and stepped out. Insects chattered from unknown areas, and teal-spotted arnai lizards scurried along the edges of the narrow walkway leading up to the house. I made it to the driveway, where my dad's dirt-brown luxury truck and my mom's swamp-green sports car were parked.

I turned, hopped up the set of weathered stone stairs, and opened the finely-carved, wooden door into the mansion. The foyer was laden with rich, varnished, marshwood flooring, and a tall oil painting of my grandparents, Nylla and Sarno, stared at all who set foot in the Cadel Estate.

I'd never met my grandfather. He'd apparently died of a massive stroke the year before I'd been hatched. My grandmother, however — whew! She was a mean old crone. What my grandfather had seen in her, I'd never know. She'd kept me and my siblings alive and fed while my parents were away on business trips, so I was thankful for that, at least.

In another room — most likely, his office — I could hear my dad talking to someone on his PCD. Must have been a conference call with company shareholders, because they were talking about stock prices and the quarterly profit reports. The old man was a stickler, but he was a hard worker.

My mom came from around the corner and startled me. "Sai!" she cried and swarmed me with hugs and kisses. "My little amoeba has come home!"

"Hey, Mom, I got your instamail," I said, my face pressed hard against her bony shoulder.

"Oh, I'm so glad you're okay. I know it's only been a couple weeks, but I got so worried sick, with you being out there on your own."

"Mom, I've been on my own for a decade now," I said. "C'mon, let me go. You're crushing me."

She gave me one last peck on the cheek. "I know, but after the crash, your father and I couldn't stop thinking about you. It may not seem like it when you're together, but your father deeply cares about you. Speaking of your father - Sar! Sai is here!"

My dad came out of his office with his PCD glued to his earhole. He told whoever it was that he would have to call them back and hung up. "Son, good to see you."

"Curb your excitement, Pops," I said.

Mom slapped my arm. "You two play nice. You hungry? You must be famished. Let me cook you something." She hurried into the kitchen, muttering ingredients.

My dad nodded his head over to the deck out back. "Let's talk outside. I need some fresh air after talking to those bloodthirsty vanar."

I followed him through the expansive living room, past the digivision with a bunch of talking heads discussing the economy. The moss-covered, stone deck overlooked a vast swathe of green-and-yellow reeds. The sun hung high above the horizon, just past midday. My dad opened a see-through compartment and pulled out a short, wooden pipe, and a bag labeled "Chill Moss". I joined him at the marble-topped table while he stuffed his pipe.

I wasn't sure how to start the conversation, so I brought up what was on the digivision. "How have things been since the crash?"

He took a few puffs of the pipe. "The economists say it's going to be a long one. People are hurting for work. I've since had to cut staffing in the employment department and cease hiring, just to keep prices affordable for customers. Can't let them go without power — especially with so many power companies going under. While other companies jacked up their prices to maintain a bloated staff, I did the opposite. It may be a good thing in the long run. We have an untapped sector of the market looking for cheap power, which means we stay afloat through this thing."

"I remember reading something about that in the book," I said. "'Capitalizing on the Crisis', I think it was called."

I could see my dad's eyes becoming bloodshot as he took a few more puffs. "Ah, so you actually read my book. A part of me thought you'd just throw it out into space."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence."

"I wasn't lying to you when I said it was a bestseller. Did you finish it?"

I remembered hanging over Shen'roth's toothy mouth, and the book falling into it. "Uh, well, I lost it before I read the last chapter. What was it?"

"You might think it's ridiculous," he said. "The last chapter was about how you don't need a dumb book to tell you how to run a business and be successful. Sure, it helps as a guide for the small intricacies of it all. You just need to have the guts to do it. To believe in yourself. Go for your dreams. That's what I was trying to tell you all those times. Instead of sitting around, drinking beer, and wondering if you were capable of anything greater, you had to go for it."

Of course, I had been too stupid and stubborn to see that. Everything that had happened on Melville made that clear. Who knew what I could have been if I had listened to him earlier? Regardless, I might have been a late bloomer, but I'd taken a step in the right direction — the first step of a thousand more.

"As much as it hurts to say this," I began, "You were right, Pops. I was too thickheaded to understand that."

"I know you were, son. But, I refused to give up on you. This begs another question: How's my investment doing?"

"Well, Jord and I bought a starship," I said. "She's old, but she gets the job done. We're doing freelance work here and there, but I think we've found our market. We actually just finished up a contract for fifty-thousand bitcreds. We're resupplying for the next one."

For the first time in years, I saw my dad smile. Was it the pipe easing his nerves? Perhaps. A part of me thought it was pride in his screw-up son.

"That's excellent news," he said. "Freelancing is a tough line of business, so don't get too confident that you'll always find work. That being said, if you think you've found a niche, pursue it."

My mom came out onto the deck, bearing a steaming plate of pan-seared reedfish, crusted in bog cheese - one of my many favorite dishes of hers. She gave me a little kiss on the head and walked over to my dad. She took the pipe from his hand and reminded him of the time he'd said he would quit.

For the next few hours, the three of us sat there and made small talk, reminiscing about the old days and watching the sun fall toward the horizon. It was nice. A part of me had missed that. Sure, my parents had been away often, grinding and sweating at their businesses, but they'd always made time for us.

My PCD pinged, interrupting one of my mom's stories. It was Jord on instachat.

Jord: Got everything we need. New contracts 4 review. U ready?

Me: If you guys are ready, I'm ready.

Jord: Ready 2 shoot these new guns!

Me: Keep the safeties on, you psycho.

Glennsworth: Sai, please return as soon as possible. The ogre is threatening to test the new firearms on me.

Jord: Glennsworth this is a secure line between Sai n me. Ur on a need 2 know basis.

Me: I'm about to leave. Jord, stop threatening employees.

I stood up from my chair and stretched. "Well, I'd better get going. Have to start working on the next contract."

"Oh, no, already?" my mom asked. "You just got here."

"Come now, Yulina," my dad said. "The boy has to get back to work. We both know how that is."

My mom stood up to hug me. "Please be safe, Sai. Don't do anything dangerous."

I laughed internally. If she'd only known. "Don't worry, Mom. I'll try to come back between jobs. And if I can't make it back, I'll instamail you. Okay?"

She let me go and lightly pinched my cheek. Tears trickled from her shimmery, golden eyes. "You'd better."

I turned to my dad, and he shook my hand. "Hang in there, son. Take care."

I pulled him in for a hug. "Will do, Pops." The hug went on for longer than I think either of us had anticipated. I gripped him harder, tighter, as if I really wanted to ask if I had made him proud. He hugged me harder in response. I think it was a "yes".

I left the Cadel Estate with a full belly and a reinforced sense that I was on the right path. I had no idea what was ahead of me, but something just clicked inside my head and in my heart. Who knew where it would lead me? But as long as I believed in myself, then nothing could stop me now.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

My Own Boss

We paid the temporary docking fee and left Ritan City. I burned through the atmosphere and put the Lady Luna in a low orbit around Anura for the time being. Once I was comfortable with her position, I flicked the autopilot switch, allowing the on-board computer to make any slight adjustments needed to maintain orbit.

I hopped down from my chair and walked through the corridor into the crew cabin, where Jord and Glennsworth were busy scrolling through jobs on the Underweb.

"What do we got, gentlemen?" I asked and plopped down on the bench next to them.

"So far, there's two jobs that look right up our alley," Jord said. "But, the Professor here doesn't seem to agree with me and thinks they'd be a waste of time. He thinks we ought to keep looking."

"It's not that I believe these contracts would be 'a waste of time'," Glennsworth said. "I simply believe our time should be spent on something more akin to, say, 'Shen'roth-like incidents'."

"Basically, you don't think these jobs have anything to do with daemons," I said and leaned back on the bench, putting my hands behind my head.

"Precisely," Glennsworth said. "Neither of these appear to have any signs of daemonic activity."

"Well let me hear your case, Jord."

"Okay." Jord pulled up the two contracts side by side on the screen. "One of them is a Celyrian colony on Oputano, and they are willing to pay twenty-thousand to anyone who can get emergency supplies and armaments to them. The catch is there's a sizable Hanzan warband blockading the planet. The colony is pretty big, too — about three-thousand colonists. But, they say its only a matter of time before they're overrun with current provisions."

"While I think Glennsworth is right," I said, "twenty-thousand bitcreds is nothing to blow off. What else is there?"

"The other job — and you might laugh at this," Jord started, giggling a little. "Is on Chloran. The Chlorani are having trouble getting rid of a 'large, insectoid, xylophagusitic organism'."

"What the hell does that mean?" I asked.

Jord chuckled. "I didn't know, either. So, I looked it up - it means something that eats wood."

My guts busted with laughter. "The tree people can't get rid of a termite infestation?! That's gold, man. How much are they offering?"

"Less than the Celyrian contract. Fifteen-thousand, five-hundred."

Glennsworth pointed at the screen. "Understand my point, now? These are a complete waste of our time and resources."

"Listen here," Jord said. "Remember your rank. We are your bosses. What do you think, Sai? Which one should we go for?"

I rubbed my chin. "Hmmm. The Celyrian contract is a nice chunk of money, but it seems like more of a risk. Hanzans are vicious. Even if we managed to get past the blockade, who's to say we can make it out again? Hanzan ships are some of the fastest in the galaxy. The Lady Luna couldn't even outrun a few harpies. They would make short work of us. I think the Chloran job is the better choice."

"I agree," Jord said. "It's settled, then. I'll apply to the bug job."

Glennsworth sighed. I could tell by his pursed lips and raised eyebrows that he was frustrated. As much as I agreed with him - and honestly, I still had the nagging desire to explore deeper into the paranormal, as well - the bottom line was the most important factor. Paying off Valo was the first step toward our enterprise's success — and my mental health.

I'd have a pep-talk with him later. For now, he'd have to deal with it.

I looked over at Jord. "By the way, what'd you pick up from Marshall?"

Jord finished the application and led me down the short corridor leading to the engine room. We stopped just shy of it and turned left to face a blank, metal wall.

"What am I looking at?" I said as I stared at the wall.

He pressed his organic hand against the wall, and it opened vertically. Our entire arsenal of weapons hung from a brightly-lit, magnetic surface.

Jord held his hands out in mock showmanship. "Ta-daa!" he sang. "Secret weapons compartment. I came across it by accident while mopping the floors. Hit the wall with my elbow, and it opened up."

"Nice," I said. "Not everyday you find one of these."

Jord waved a hand at the weapons closer to the floor. "Everything that's yours is down here. I replaced your plasma pistol and added the same modifications, and I picked up a sweet-ass suppressor for it."

I nodded. "Awesome. Now, we can be all stealthy like in those spy movies."

"I also picked up a new slug shotgun for you. It has a bit less punch, but what you trade off for in power, you make up for in accuracy."

"What else did you get?" I asked.

"Well, I replaced the Mark V and the plasma pistols, but he was all out of cryoflayers, so I couldn't get a replacement for that," Jord answered. Then, he picked up a silvery-metallic weapon with glowing, red lights. It was almost as long as I was tall. "But, Marshall hooked me up with one of these babies - the T-34 plasma cannon."

"You bought a plasma cannon? Really?"

He grinned like a madman. "You've never seen one of these in action, have you? Tsk-tsk. Two-hundred high-powered, toroid rounds per minute. This thing even makes the Icto shit their pants."

"Should we really have something that powerful aboard?" I asked, keeping my distance. I didn't want to accidentally blow a hole through the ship's hull and get sucked out into space.

"Do you trust your Director of Ordnance or not?" he asked. I nodded. He opened a case of twelve six-inch-long, metal tubes, each with a blue vial inside. "Last thing I have to show you are these glue grenades. As their name implies, they're filled with a highly-adhesive substance. Tap the red button on the side to arm it, then throw. You have exactly five seconds to either throw it or disarm it before it explodes."

"How do you disarm it?"

"Same thing. Just tap the red button again. Got it?"

"A hundred percent."

He smirked. "Should be fun taking out those bugs. It'll be like our hunting trips. Humping through the woods, lying in wait, then springing the trap."

"Yeah," I said. "Other than surviving, we need to make sure we complete whatever contract we set our eyes on. Paying off this damn ship is Priority Number One."

Jord put a hand on my shoulder. "Relax. We'll get it done. We have a good thing going for us. As much as Glennsworth pisses me off, I know a good fighter when I see one. Yeah, he's weird and a little too proper for my tastes, but if he helped you take out Shen'roth, I'm more than happy to have a guy like him standing next to me in a fight."

"Agreed. I think as long as we have each other's backs, we'll be all right."

He pulled the plasma cannon from the magnetic surface. "In the meantime, I'm going to make sure all our weapons are in top shape for the contract. Got anything else for me?"

I shook my head. "Nope. Just keep doing your thing."

"And Sai... thanks again. Not everybody would've done what you did. I owe you big time."

I couldn't help but smile. "Partners, right?"

He smiled back. "Partners."

Jord walked off — I assumed toward his workbench. I decided to have that talk with Glennsworth. My new boots thudded against the metal floors as I walked into the engine room. The room vibrated with the subtle hum of the main engine. Glennsworth sat in the corner, hunched over, book on his lap. He looked up at me, then back down at the book. "I know what you are about to ask me, and the answer is no, there is no entry for tree-eating insects in the book."

"That wasn't my question," I said and leaned up against the engine. "I was just stopping by. You know, checking in with my new employee."

He kept his eyes down as he turned a page. "In the future, I prefer to study in silence."

"Don't worry," I said. "We'll get back to the daemon-slaying. But ultimately, this is a business. Money comes first."

He looked up. "I understand. I only wish to continue digging deeper into the mysteries of the Grimoire. With it, and your help, I may finally resolve the quest I set out on."

"What is your quest, exactly?"

He stayed quiet and rose to his feet, standing a foot-and-a-half taller than me. "That is for another time, I believe. I only request that we not diverge too much from rooting out daemonic entities. Otherwise, my employment with Omnigalactic will come to an immediate end, and I will proceed alone."

"I have to ask, why do you... do what you do?"

"As I said before, it's for another time," he said, dodging my question. "The only knowledge you require is that my quest and my reasons for practicing the occult are intertwined. One would not exist without the other."

I stared at him and tried not to look utterly confused. I poked his chest. "You are one cryptic son-of-a-bitch, you know that? I wouldn't be surprised if Daniel Glennsworth wasn't your real name."

"It isn't," he said bluntly.

"Damn it."

He smirked. "I'm kidding."

I shook my head and socked him in the arm. It was about time he loosened up. "All right, if you say so. You good now?"

He nodded. "Yes. However, you must promise that when the time comes, you will be there to assist me, Just as I was there for you."

"I'm not sure what that's supposed to mean, or when that time is," I said, eyeballing him up and down. I shook his hand. "But, you helped me bring my best friend back from eternal insanity, so I do owe you one. We have a deal."

"Excellent," he said.

"By the way," I said, scratching my head. That lurking fascination crept into the front of my mind again. "Could you teach me?"

He froze like he'd just been doused in liquid nitrogen. "Teach you? As in, take you on as my student?"

I nodded. "I was thinking... if we're going to be doing this daemon-slaying stuff, it might be handy if I... expand my skill set. What do you say?"

He stayed quiet, clearly deep in thought. I leaned forward in anticipation. The last time I'd asked him that question, it had been a flat-out no. Something was different this time. Was he considering it?

He took a step toward me. His dark eyes glared at me with all the seriousness in the galaxy. "Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Before I take you under my tutelage," he said. "I want you to answer one question: How far are you willing to go?"

I stood straighter. "As far as it takes me."

He studied me for a moment before nodding. "Good. Now, may I return to my studies?"

"Sure thing. Just make sure you mop the floors before lights-out. The mop, bucket, and cleaning supplies are under the sink in the kitchenette. I'll be in the cockpit if you need anything."

"You are serious?" he asked, bewildered. He must not have taken me seriously when I said he'd be performing janitorial work. "You really want me to clean the floors?"

"I have a motto," I said. "If there's time to lean, there's time to clean. The Lady Luna will be treated like a proper woman, and a proper woman must be pampered and presentable at all times."

Behind me, I heard Glennsworth curse as I walked away. I suppressed the urge to laugh, pressing my lips together as tightly as they could go, until I was out of earshot. I had said it was an entry-level job. If I was going to pay him seven percent of the cut, he was going to pull his weight.

Grabbing a cup of a brewed, stimulant-rich bean, I headed to the cockpit. I slumped in my seat, disengaged the autopilot, and took a sip. Hot, dark, bittersweet liquid warmed my body in the cold of space. Over the intercom, I told Jord to turn off the thermal dampeners to heat up the ship's interior a little bit. He complained it was already too hot, which was strange, coming from a Tresedi. Still, he did it anyway, then returned to his work on the new firearms.

Regardless of whether we snatched the Chloran job or opted for something else, we needed to head to the Hub. There, we'd be centrally situated to wherever we needed to go. I engaged the prograde thrusters and left Anura's orbit, heading for the Wyn Gate outside the Anura Sector. Starships soared past me in both directions. I looked at the aft cameras and watched Anura and the reddish-orange Fire Eye Nebula behind it slowly shrink.

My PCD pinged. Ellen had sent me an instamail. I opened it and read:

Sai,

I know you're a very busy person, but I just wanted to thank you again for everything. You three have provided a great service to the survivors and victims of the horrible tragedy that struck Melville. I only hope that we will see you all again in the future (this time, on more peaceful terms). Next time, I'll have to show you around the island chain. Lots of interesting wildlife here — and none of them have tentacles!

A little update on the status of the research project: Although they are very upset, the university has granted us another six months of funding, and they are sending a disaster specialist out to survey the area and draft a mock-up of our new storm protection system. So, that's exciting. Tell Glennsworth not to worry; I didn't mention the giant monster. No word yet on when we'll get another dome. We might have to use submersibles or breathing apparatuses in the interim. I can't wait until we get back up to speed!

Anyway, I hope you are doing fine. Message me back when you can.

Your friend,

Ellen Rupert, M.D.

I sipped my warm, aromatic beverage and messaged her back, detailing our future prospects and whatnot. I tried to keep it professional and not too chummy. I won't lie; I kind of liked her. She was attractive (for a Human) and pretty smart. But, I didn't want to give her the wrong idea if she didn't like me back. I dunno, I'd have to see where it went.

It was funny; I used to think my life was all routine. I'd accept a new shipping job, leave home, fly out, finish the job, and fly back home. So much my life had changed in such a short amount of time. I'd gone from my long career as a commercial pilot to being unemployed, then starting my own business, and to top it all off, banishing a daemon. Now, there I was, flying off again, but it was on my own terms. I was finally flying my own ship and working for myself; I was my own boss.

As I activated the Lady Luna's Interspace beacon, I started to wonder whether it would become the new routine. What if it became boring and unsatisfying? I shook it off. If future jobs were anything like Melville, I was sure my life would be as crazy and exciting as ever. Heck, my life had only just begun.

THE END
