 
Behold The Interstice

A Novel

By

Gabe Sluis
Behold The Interstice

Copyright © 2019 by Gabe Sluis

Published at Smashwords

First Edition

Cover art: Gabe Sluis

All rights reserved.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead or undead, is entirely coincidental.

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. Never stop this madness.
Chapter Teleporter

Chapter 1

Chapter 10

Chapter 20

Chapter 30

Chapter 40

Chapter 50

Chapter 60

Chapter 70

Chapter 75
Chapter 1

An alarm roused Charlie from his sleep, but did not fully wake him. With the gravity down to twenty percent and the room at five degrees, he had no desire to get out of bed and check his cameras. He drifted back to sleep, knowing the chimes would stop eventually.

He found himself sitting bolt upright on the edge of his bed.

The intensity of the alarms increased. His facility had been breached.

Charlie Four pulled on the boots at the edge of his bed. He punched the console on his desk, bringing the gravity back to one point two and the temperature to twenty-two.

"Brixton!" he shouted to the empty room. "What is going on?"

"The main shield on tunnel one has been penetrated. Back-up emitters have been destroyed by weapons fire."

"Weapons fire? It wasn't debris? What punched through?"

Charlie was in a panic. He grabbed his tool belt off a workbench and wrapped it around his thick waist as he ran out of the main room of his temporary prefab base. Charlie ducked his head as he entered the long hallway that lead to his ship.

"A pair of small ships approached the asteroid approximately ten minutes ago and began scanning the emplacements. Initial alarms were sounded, but you did not react. Forty five seconds ago, the shield was dropped by a pulse from inside the entrance and one of the ships entered. It then proceeded to open fire on the emitters."

"Where are they now!?" he shouted, sprinting past the door to the equipment garage. A large explosion shook the ground under his feet, causing him to trip headlong. Before the giant man hit the ground, the hall went dark. Gravity evaporated. Instead of sliding to a stop, Charlie floated horizontally off at an unexpected angle.

"Brixton!"

"The main generator of the Pearl has been hit by the attackers," the virtual intelligence reported. "The back-up is coming on line now."

Light returned to the hall, much dimmer than it had been moments before. Charlie reached out with his arms to steady himself as gravity returned, drawing his large body down to the floor. An ear-splitting grinding reverberated through the mining facility, followed by the acrid smell of burning metal.

"What are they doing to my ship?" the miner cried, climbing back to his feet.

"Plasma torches are burning through the outer skin above the cargo hold. I believe they are going after the contents of the cargo hold. The first ship has just deployed two armed individuals. They are entering the hole they have bored."

"They're going after my pay-dirt! Activate the ships shields! Do something!" Charlie shouted arriving at the door to the grounded ship.

"The ships power is offline," Brixton reported back. "Furthermore, the hull has been breached and devoid of atmosphere."

Charlie turned and sprinted back to the door to the equipment garage. He slapped the door control and grabbed his extra large void suit from its place on the wall.

"Reverse the gravity on the ship! Slow them down until I can get in there!"

"The attackers are armed, Charlie Four. You have no weapons in this facility."

"Without those elements in the hold, I'll be totally broke! I can't let them rob me of an entire years work!"

Another small explosion rocked the facility as Charlie finished hastily pulling on his bronze colored void suit. The sense of urgency redoubled as he clicked his gloves into place and took off back to the door to his damaged ship.

"What's going on in there?" Charlie puffed as he slapped the door control once again.

"The attackers have taken a total of eight crates to their ship. The reverse of gravity slowed them for a moment, but they have adapted. Be aware, that if this door is opened without proper pressurization, there will be a violent escape of atmosphere from the hallway, pulling you into the ship."

"Got it!" Charlie said, pulling an anchor gun from his tool belt and blasting a hard point into the floor of his station. He attached a mining safety line between it and his suit as he gave his next command to Brixton.

"Put the gravity back to standard two seconds after the door is opened!"

The giant man, suited and anchored to the floor, used his muscular frame to brace for the depressurization. The door to the ship shot open instantaneously. Charlie withstood the force with relative ease as he unclipped the line and dodged into the ship.

Soundless threads of faint light caught Charlie's attention out of the corner of his eye as he took cover behind a bulkhead. Quick glances toward the ships hold from random shifting points completed his view of what was happening inside his ship. A perfect, round hole, several meters in diameter had been cut through the ship in front of the door to the cargo hold. A suited figure stood security outside the wrecked door as another of the raiders was taking crates of mined materials up a line to their waiting ship.

Charlie cursed at the intruders inside his suit, heard by no one except Brixton. "Can you open a universal line to them?"

"I have been transmitting since their entrance to the asteroid, but they have declined to answer."

"Is there nothing else I can do?" Charlie said out loud, pulling his head back from another glance. He rest his head against the wall, lost in frustration. "Do you know if they took my grains of tropellite? The heavy metals and argyrodite I could lose, but the tropellite is worth more than everything else back there!"

"The contents of the hold are unknown to..." Brixton said, cutting himself off. "Both intruders are retreating back to their ship."

Charlie jumped to action. He darted around the bulkhead sprinting for the open hole in his ship. Looking through the puncture, the two suited figures were just being pulled inside a belly hatch as their ship repositioned itself to exit the asteroids internal cavern.

The giant stood helpless in his ravaged ship, looking up at the raider crafts. As the belly doors slid closed, one of the figures leveled a carbine at their victim. The other raider pushed the barrel away from its target and gave a friendly wave to Charlie as the doors sealed.

The ship slid away, leaving Charlie alone once again.

Hunkered down in the pilots chair, Charlie Four leaned against the armrest, hand covering half his face. In his hand was an ancient data pad that was powered by a rigged up power pack, which was not original to the device. Charlie studied the schematics for the ship, written in a half-understood language. He drew out a pocket-mounted translator and read the foreign words aloud, their meaning spoken back to him. He worked line by line. Deep in concentration, a chime from Brixton interrupted his trance.

"Sir, a ship is approaching and hailing. I identify the vessel as Auklet. Shall I disable the defense turret?"

"That's fine," Charlie said, putting the pad down and rubbing his eyes. "Send a message to Shang. Tell him it's fine to come in. Not like there is anything to stop anyone anyway..."

Charlie moved his considerable mass with the additional weight on his mind. He exited the ship, returning to the prefab base. As he trudged over to the work garage, the distinct sounds of a maneuvering ship passed overhead. The giant stood over by the airlock, listening to the sharp sound of the ship blasting an anchor line into the rock outside the garage. Presently, the airlock began to cycle, pinging as gas filled into the chamber.

"Four! We came over as soon as we heard!" the fat man grumbled, waddling in his pressure suit. Shang Feam was a typical example of a lifelong asteroid minor. He had considerable bulk, a white unkempt beard over chubby cheeks, and wild hair.

Behind him strode a mechanical skeleton, holding the suited body of a young man not blessed with arms or legs. The black bones of the encompassing prosthetic made the son of Shang nearly the same size as Charlie. Rider Feam had always been hard for Charlie to read. He had heard the boy speak no more than a few times, and did not expect him to on this occasion. Rider stood passively off to one side, not engaging in the exchange. The mechanical boy, a cleft lip and hair covering one eye looked over Charlie's equipment with little interest.

"Did they make any demands before they broke in? You should have given them what they wanted!" Shang scolded the younger man.

"They didn't say a word before they took down my main shield and started blasting..."

"Smash and grab," Shang confirmed. "The sensor buoy out on F-134 showed them jumping in the system out here. They musta hit you on chance, or the fact you got one of the biggest claims in this region."

Charlie nodded. "Did you see what they did to the Pearl?"

"That's a damned poor thing to do to a ship. I'm sorry, son."

"It was my great-great-grandfathers. He used it in the crusades. I've been looking over the documents he had on it... I just don't know if I can repair that hole properly, without it taking months," Charlie said. "And if I'm absorbed with working on the ship, there's no money coming in..."

"That is an unforgivable thing to do to a ship," Shang nodded, pacing around the mining equipment absently. "Ships are the life of men such as us. Without our ships, we are as well off as any common man stuck on a planet. To sink a ship, one as beautiful and old as that Pearl of the World, is akin to murder. You can shoot a man and he can heal. Shoot a ship and rob a man of his means to repair her..."

"Yeah, they cleaned out my hold. I finally had a good setup here. Things were finally getting comfortable and profitable. I had enough to put up shields, pay off the prefab and install an intelligence to manage things... Now this place is all shot up and I have nothing to put it back together."

Shang threw a hand against Charlie's shoulder. "I've had setbacks myself. You gotta just keep going. I know you first generation miners come out here thinking you'll work the rocks for a couple rotations, strike it rich and retire to some paradise on Balius. But grains of tropellite are not as numerous as the stories miners tell. It's a life's work. Few strike it rich finding a nugget larger than my thumb."

"I still have hope," Charlie said. "But without a ship, I have no chance at finding another grain. It'd probably take half a nugget to repair that old thing anyway..."

"Take a week to cool off. Don't think about it. Get back out in your tunnels. Nothing clears the mind like carving through conglomerate. Get yourself some stock and I'll come by in ten days. I am close to needing a run to the Inaba station. I would be happy to give you a lift to sell what you can, and pick up some material. Rider is decent with ships. He doesn't have much experience with jump systems. We have only run on star-locked skiffs, but he is smart. Aren't you, Rider?"

The sullen boy nodded without looking at his father.

"No. I'm not for putting you out. I can get her patched up somehow and make a run in..."

"You are taking my help, boy! You are not putting us out. We were planning a run in soon, anyhow. Don't be stubborn on this! I know how us minors hate to depend on others, but that's how it is this time."

"I appreciate it, Shang," Charlie Four said. "I can scrounge up something in ten days. I need to repair the entrance shield if I can. I put up a defense turret, but it's not enough... I will give you a call in nine days to coordinate a pick-up."

"Do that," Shang said, slapping Charlie on the arm. He motioned for his son and the odd pair left the cluttered garage.

Charlie stood still for a moment as he heard the visiting ship cycle up its engines and leave the tunnel containing his base.

Where to start? he thought to himself, still wallowing in the defeat.

Eventually he moved, not out of force of will, but unexpectedly, for no reason at all. There was work to do, recovery progress to be made. He had been thrust to his ropes end; no choice left but to move his hand and begin to climb, ignoring the fact that the rope was on fire.
Chapter 2

The Golden Lantern cut through the waves of the southeast Pacific as if remaining in place, the ocean preferring, rather, to pass about. The custom yacht was the size of a battle ship, exquisitely maintained, designed and styled with maximum economy. No smoke stacks or other form of engine exhaust was emitted from its entirety. Darkness settled over the rough blue ocean, and the ship sailed northward.

Down below, in the cargo hold, Mitri Glezhot was taking inventory, ensuring the stability of the stacked field crates that had been returned to the ship earlier in the morning. His eyes were red and he moved slowly as he pounded nails back into place on the second to last crate to be logged into the hold.

He supposed he should not be frustrated at having to work late into the night while the majority of the crew had drinks and celebrated returning from the field expedition. For most of the deployment, he had little work, being assigned to the ship. All he had to do was supervise the offloading of supplies once they had reached the Chilean beach camp and relax until the explorers had returned. Two full days of work and a month away from his family were nothing compared with how well he was being paid.

He finished pounding the last square nail into place when he heard a peculiar sound from the direction of the holds elevator. Mitri craned his neck, and seeing nothing, climbed down from the stack, and left his clipboard in place. He wandered through the stacks of pinewood crates toward the origin of the sound.

"Boss, that you?" he asked in his thick Russian accent. "Come to check on me?"

He rounded the corner of a particularly large stack of crates and slumped to his butt at the sight of the non-manifested cargo. He scrambled for his radio with one hand and his thin pistol with the other hand, shaking and uncoordinated. He aimed the pistol from the hip, rather than down the sight, and called on the handheld radio.

"Bill! Bill, come back! It Dmitri! I need security team to hold!" he said, trying hard not to lapse back into his native tongue.

Mitri realized his weapon was uncocked, so he dropped the radio in his lap and fiddled with the pistol. Every member of the crew was issued the slim, small caliber pistol, but it was Mitri's first exposure to firearms. The radio came back to him as he readied the gun, keeping his eyes locked on the unexplained arrival.

An hour later, Bill Trainer stood in front of the door leading to the ships stateroom. He collected his thoughts and let out a held breath as he built up the nerve to knock. Unsure whether he was heard over the faint music coming from deep within the yachts most luxurious living quarters, the shipmaster raised his hand for a second attempt. Before he could bring his knuckles down onto the dark wood, the music cut off. He swallowed and cleared his throat as he sensed the approach of the ships owner.

Lora Clark opened the door. She held the edge of the door by one extended arm, the jam in the other. While Bill Trainer had been in the presence of his employer many times on their present journey, he was still initially taken aback by her presence. To own a yacht of this caliber at just twenty-eight years of age spoke to her intelligence more than any person he had met in his life. And while many people of intelligence in this day and age were odd and unconcerned with appearance, Lora Clark was the complete opposite. She was beautiful, with shoulder length straight dark hair, intense eyes and a practical nature far different than most wealthy individuals. As it was the beginning of the night, she wore loose tan slacks, a sweater, and full-length housecoat that was untied at the waist.

"Mister Trainer, I trust this is an important visit for you to be disturbing me after dinner hours," she said flatly.

"You will have to forgive me, Miss, but something most surprising has been found down in the hold that I think you will want to see."

"Did a creature get into one of the equipment crates?" she asked, posture softening.

"No, Miss. I can explain as we walk, if you like," Bill said, stretching out his hand, leading in the direction of the hold.

Lora wrinkled her brow, drew her hand off the back of the door, bringing a holstered pistol with it. She affixed the weapon to her waistband, below her navel, and wrapped the housecoat around herself. Bill shuffled and took the lead, explaining as they went.

"We checked the manifest several times over and the man that found it had just completed a full inventory. It was Dmitri, one of the Russians you hired as a deckhand. He came down a stack and found the damned thing sitting between himself and the exit. He nearly shot it out of fright."

They went down two flights of metal stairs.

"What exactly did he almost shoot, Bill?"

"That's why we came to you. You seem to be an expert in these things. That's what you investigate for Doctor Hahn, right? Unusual things? This thing had a note taped to its head," Bill said.

He stopped short of the entrance of the hold and stood aside. Lora went past him without a pause, turning the final corner, coming directly up to the back of the robot.

Lora paused, head jerking backward in surprise. With curious suspicion she circled around the robot like a shark, carefully eyeing the out-of-place machinery, yet keeping her distance. On the catwalk above the entrance to the hold, three men stood spread out, rifles at the ready, lowering their barrels when their employer stepped into their field of fire.

Lora inspected every operational group of the robot as she circled, three times. The interior mechanics were encased within an off white outer layer, protecting functionality. High points on joints were covered with angularly rounded sections of thick metal armor. The head was nearly human shaped, with a flat, black, pentagon where a face would sit. The torso had several small arms wrapped into itself, stowed for functionality. The back had what appeared to be a folding wing set and rocket, compactly designed, and different in form from the rest of the robot, yet still painted white. This was all fully integrated into the main body housing. A pair of leather satchels were secured to the torso, away from panel coverings. The complex machine seemed to imitate human form in a majority of ways, apart from the base. The robot would most definitely move on the dynamic tracked base, which had treads that resembled the flexible movement of snake scales.

Lora finished her initial inspection, standing face to face with the unexplained addition to her ship. "We did not collect this in Chile," she spoke to no one.

After a moments pause, she took a step forward and removed the note, a small slip of yellow paper folded in half, taped to the robots equivalent of a chin. On the outside fold, written in perfect pen strokes, was two words: Lora Blickton.

Lora Clark opened the note, read the contents, and took a step back. She addressed her over watch.

"Thank you, lads, but I can handle this myself." She raised her voice to be heard by all, "Clear the hold. I will not be interrupted."
Chapter 3

"Imagine a tall building. Use whatever frame of reference works best for you. I grew up among tall trees with many branches and levels dug into the trunk. For you, it could be a stone tower, like the one you are imprisoned within. Or think of it like an ocean cavern system with many layers of depths. Or pages of a book...

"In each of them, it takes quite an effort to go the long way, up and down the levels to get to new places. There are shortcuts or thoroughfares. Sometimes the men residing in each level become smart enough to smash through to another. Holes can be ripped in spots, or stairways built. These are often guarded. Many of the thoroughfares between worlds are hard to find and not frequently traveled. Some only appear at particular times.

"Then there are men like you and I.

"I found myself lost from my world. Once I understood these facts, it was easy enough identify the cracks between worlds and slip between them. It would have been nearly impossible to push on if it wasn't for the gift I received. I could not have done it on my own; as I'm sure you know. You were given a similar gift, and a mentor to show you how to use that gift. I suspect they originated from the same power...

"While I search to restore myself to the home I once knew, your gift lets you travel the worlds by shear force of will, without ever having to leave your place. Your only limit to your travels is imagination. You are not constrained by the need for food or water or warmth. As long as your physical body is secure, you are free. Count yourself lucky, Hyron."

"But here I am, trapped! I'm a prisoner! All I can do is wander and look. I can't touch anything..."

"No! You can see, and learn," Aros answered. "Even greater, you can speak. Here you are, following me, mining me for information, trying to convince me to find you and rescue you."

"I swear, my master told me he knew how to find the wood between the worlds. This is that elevator you described. It can take you to any level of the tower. If you come for me, I will take you to it. I promise you this."

"I've heard of this place with one entrance and all exits. An elevator to any level. I have heard of many such stories. I have chased down many leads, and here I am, still."

"So you won't come for me?" Hyron sat back, dejected.

"Don't bet on me. I am not a hero or savior like you may think I am. You! You have been given a gift that men would devote their whole lives for. Use it! If you can find the person I am looking for I will repay the debt... but don't stop with me. Look elsewhere. I have met others who know the ways up and down the levels. There are others who travel far from their homes."
Chapter 4

Asteroids in the Korin system generally fell into three locational categories. There was the scattered rocky debris which made up the Belt of Korin, situated between Yomi, the second planet in the system, and Inba Major, the third planet, a gas giant. The asteroids in the belt were numerous and just as rich in precious and common mineral as any other place. But these were spread out and distant from any cluster of humanity. Logistically, the Belt was difficult to mine, as processing stations were only available by long distant transport, and then, only when the rotation of one of the worlds coincided with the asteroid. This is not to say that attempts were not made, whether by souls agreeable to a hermit lifestyle, or to investors attempting to slowly move prospective ore into a better location over time.

The second two locations were in Lagrange points, pockets of intersecting gravitational influence created by the gas giant and its distant star. These pockets, preceding and following Inba major, over a vast span of time, had picked up loose or wandering bodies of mass. The asteroid clusters found here were a much more practical location to prospect. Inba Minor, the second largest moon of the gas giant, was a water world. The rocky-cored satellite harbored it's own complex flora and fauna, prior to human discovery. Its ecosystem was kept warm by its host, rather than by the dim light emanating from the distant center of the system.

Charlie Four had chosen a large asteroid in the L5 point. It was the sparsest populated cluster of asteroid miners within the Inba mini-system. The rock he called home was nearly circular, but for two large portions, which appeared to have been lopped off like an orange sliced at with a katana. A main tunnel had been drilled to the center of the metallic rock by a previous attempt to mine the body by some unlucky soul. Charlie had found the abandoned claim a perfect place to start. He had expanded the tunnels substantially in the three rotations he had spent in the Yomi system.

Four secondary mining tunnels had split off from the main in directions calculated by scan-aided probabilities. 'C' tunnel, Charlie's favorite tunnel, had been chasing a vein of argyrodite for the last rotation, giving him a steady supply of income. This argyrodite had been his baseline, covering operational costs. And now, six days after the raid, he found himself focusing the most on 'C' tunnel, removing the tailings that the automated drilling probe produced.

He was on one such a removal trip, bringing a mining cart full of non-valuable asteroid rock out to the surface where he would fuse the tailings into a solid, when Brixton interrupted his in-helmet music.

"Sir, 'A' tunnel probe is reporting an error."

Charlie cursed. "Why is it always that probe having problems? That was the one we swapped out of 'D' a couple weeks back, right?"

"Yes. There were several problems with that probe while it mined 'D' tunnel. You moved it to 'A' to confirm that it was a mechanical issue, rather than the tunnel itself," the virtual intelligence reported back.

Charlie grabbed a magnetic anchor off the cart, slapping it against the tunnel surface, harder than necessary. The cart bounced gently on its tether in the limited gravity environment. The big miner kicked out with his magnetic boots, denting the cart and bouncing it in erratic directions. Charlie found himself disgusted by his outburst, grimacing at the pointless damage his unexpected rage had caused.

"Brixton," Charlie said, finally getting a hold of himself. "Shut down the probe. I will clear the blockage and do the reset myself."

The V.I. acknowledged the request and Charlie took off in the direction of 'A' tunnel, opting to use his wrist thrusters to propel himself through the interior of the asteroid, rather than by magnetic boots which, reacted to his steps. The wrist thrusters burned up valuable fuel compared to hoofing it, but at this point in his frustrating trial, Charlie was through caring about economy.

As he rocketed through the maze of sparsely lit tunnels, Charlie noticed how hungry he was. He was past the point he would regularly have gone on a trading and supply run into the station orbiting Inba Minor. He was down to the very last of the supplies in his pantry. The package of beans he had eaten as his first meal was meant as an additive to a full meal, rather than the primary course. Now, all he had left were the random things he had bought and never gotten around to using.

"If I don't find a grain or strike onto another vein in the next couple days, this trip into the station with Shang will be nothing more than a food run," Charlie said to himself.

Brixton, not fully sensitive to the redundant qualities in human speech patterns, especially under stressful conditions, spoke up. "I can shut off all drill probes and conduct a detection scan ahead of the regularly scheduled depth marks," the intelligence suggested.

"No," Charlie said curtly. "I'm just now reaching 'A' tunnel. What can you tell me about the error message the probe reported this time?"

The miner killed his wrist thrusters as he ran his hands along the smooth walls of the curricular tunnel. He pushed himself deeper with the tips of his magnetic boots. For some, the narrow confines of a tunnel, not much larger than ones body, could cause claustrophobia. Compounding upon this fact, could also be the knowledge in the back of ones mind that you were in the middle of a mountain, floating independently in space, half a billion kilometers from the nearest world. Sometimes, Charlie thought, he must be stupid to be free of any apprehension as he drifted down these tunnels. But, for the most part, he didn't think much about it, which seemed best. Plus, he had much more important concerns at the moment and no space for pursuing fruitless mind exercises.

Curving slightly to the left, Charlie approached the deepest point of the tunnel. As he came upon the slender drilling probe, he noticed the mining laser was firing off sporadically and with individual streams, rather than with the multiple rotating beams of drilling mode.

"I thought I asked for this to be shut down!" Charlie shouted to Brixton.

"The command was sent, and the acknowledgement was returned," Brixton reported. "The only explanation I can find in the specifications for this equipment is a rare case mentioned in separate sections of the troubleshooting manuals."

While Brixton explained this, Charlie grabbed onto the probe and removed the power cell, disabling the dangerous discharge from the business end of the probe. As he pulled the probe away from the area it was mining, looking the troublesome machine over, Brixton continued.

"There seems to be a possibility in the programming that between the time I sent the command for shutdown and the sequence being fully executed, a grain of tropellite was found. This would have attempted to override the shut down command."

"No trope here," Charlie reported, looking in the holding container of an interior hatch on the side of the probe. "All I have is a kilo or so of iron filaments..."

"This follows with the rare case mentioned in the manual," Brixton said. "The probe should have stored the grain and then shut down. Since you found it had not shut down, it stands the possibility that the probe was unable to extract the tropellite after a reasonable duration, causing the non standard behavior you reported."

"Not enough time to extract the trope...?" Charlie said to himself. He flashed his headlamp up at the mining location and began to brush away some loose material, which hovered over the hole. With the first brush, a glimmer of white reflected back into his eyes.

And there it lay. Charlie's blood ran cold as he exposed the nugget of tropellite buried into the black rock of the asteroid. With tremoring hands, he reached into his tool bag and drew out a laser torch.

He began cutting around the white nugget. Ignoring words coming through his helmet speakers from Brixton, the rock ring being cut out around the tropellite continued to grow. With every expanding pass of cutting, Charlie had to force himself to breath.

After an hour, or a day, or a minute of cutting, hot slag flying around in front of his face shield, Charlie pulled the fist of tropellite from the depths of the asteroid. Holding it in one hand, eyes glued to the unimaginable wealth he held, the big miner pushed his way out of 'A' tunnel, leaving the mining probe deactivated and unrepaired.

Entering into the main tunnel, he threw back his head and howled.
Chapter 5

"You do not belong in 1949," Lora said, keeping her distance from the white robot. Her words echoed slightly in the abandoned hold. A pair of long heartbeats passed with no reaction from the machine. She started to think she could have been wrong...

And then it moved; the pentagon face snapped in her direction. The mechanical soldier moved forward on its base. Lora took in a sharp breath, and then was upset with herself for feeling startled. She took a step back and sat up on one of the low crate stacks.

"In fact, I would wager that you would not even belong in 2049."

"On that, you would be wrong," the robot said. It had a male voice with a smooth American accent, dynamic enough to be interesting, but regular enough to be taken seriously. "The hardware you see before you was designed in the 2030's. Upgrades have been made from technology later than 2049, including my processing unit and programming, but most of what you see would have been engineered and constructed in a parallel time that was twenty years beyond your maximum life cycle year in 2014."

Lora cocked her head to the side. She stared at the machine in front of her and began to consider what it had just said. Part of her knew a day like this would come. But, in all her time searching the globe for answers to her questions, she had found very little. A wave of relief passed over her; this was the solution to her problem.

"Tell me everything," she said.

"Everything?" the robot repeated back.

"Yes. You know exactly what I want to know," Lora said flatly. "You came to me from the future, to this ship in the middle of the ocean, when I was the least surrounded by my people. Let's not play games. Tell me everything so we can get to work. I'm twenty-eight already. I want it to end this time around."

"Very well. To begin, I am called Envy.

"You were born Lora Blickton in 1921. I would prove to you that I know about your life, but I would have to pick one to start with. Unfortunately, I only stumbled into your time-knot in what I believe was your second cycle. Therefore, I only have definite knowledge from the third, fourth, fifth, and this cycle. But by my approximations, based upon a standard natural death-ending of the first two cycles, and my observations that at the age of three you regain your entire lives memory, as well as factoring in the short fourth cycle, you have experienced four hundred and fifteen years of life."

To hear it out loud, from another, a secret she had not fully told anyone since her granddaughter at the end of her second life, an immense weight was lifted off the old woman's mind. Her shoulders relaxed a deep breath came out of her lungs. It felt as if a layer of old skin had begun to slide off, her delicate new flesh feeing things she had not known for cycles. The robot started to continue, but Lora cut him off.

"And you came from the future," she said. "Now you are stuck in my cycles of rebirth and want my help to escape."

"That is not entirely correct. I was created in a future version of your world, and I do have the capacity to travel in time. Yet, I am by no means trapped here. To put it simply, I am an explorer. I entered this universe, which appears to have knotted itself in time, with yourself being the common thread through each ninety-three year iteration, and thus the most interesting part. I am here for you, Lora Blickton."

Lora stood on the prow of the ship, in the cool ocean night air. The wind was in her face, hair fluttering behind her, causing her not to smell the strong cup of hot coffee she held with both hands. The horizon was far away, and though her eyes were locked on the spot where the stars met the water, her thoughts were elsewhere.

Long ago she had learned to fully analyze the words that were spoken to her. No subtle hints or unintentional slips of phrasing made it past her fine filters when dealing in business negotiations. Lora had a keen sense of getting to the heart of the matter when dealing with people. But in this case, the robot Envy was not a person. By logic, every piece of information he offered up should be specifically designed to be relevant.

Lora reminded herself of all of this as she paused to collect her thoughts. Meanwhile, a path between the hold and Lora's cabin was cleared of crew to allow the robot to move to a better location for conversation. But something else was bothering her as well, she realized. A mental collection like this was rarely necessary for her anymore. In past lives, she would sometimes take a moment to regroup, but in the past two attempts at directing the flow of the world, she was not in need of mental breaks. She was worried, she admitted to herself. This was outside anything she had expected. It was unfamiliar and hard for her brain to cope. She had become complacent in the predictable nature of a life re-lived six times.

It is a loss of control, a voice in her head spoke up. You can rationally explain away the feelings using science, but in truth, a part of your soul that has gone unused for so long is finally waking up.

The shipmaster joined her on the prow.

"The machine has made it to your cabin, Ma'am. That thing moves without a sound; I don't trust it. Will you allow me to have guards accompany you while you are with it?"

"No, Bill. I will be fine. There is nothing to worry about."

"I can promise their total confidentiality in anything overheard," the man tried again.

"No. And have the captain change course. Let's go to my compound on the Farallon Islands. I know it's a detour for the men, but after I am unloaded, you may return to San Diego and everyone will receive bonuses."

Bill nodded obediently. "Please, pull the fire alarm if anything happens. The security team can be there in a second flat."

Lora smiled, handed her mug off and headed to her cabin.

Envy stood in the middle of the cabin and tracked Lora as she entered. Her head was down, staring at her feet as she shuffled to a sofa by the window. She sat, avoiding eye contact with her mechanical guest.

"You have known about me since my second life, and I haven't seen or known that a huge white robot has been watching me? You waited hundreds of years to approach me?"

"I did not wait to approach out of any ill will toward your mental stability," Envy said. He turned toward her hand lowered his body to a more equal height level. "I entered your time knot and began to gather information through internet interactions. Through data mining, I was searching for any relevant information that could assist my overall mission of mapping the known universes. One particular article was tagged and saved, written by an offspring of yours, Ariella Kelly. Though I did not analyze this data fully at the time, it became illuminating once I found that your timeline was locked in a ninety-three year loop.

"The article was written just in time," Envy continued. "Forty-two days after it was published, my sensors noticed that time was grinding to a halt. Attempts to retreat from the event failed. So, I was left with the only option, which was to travel forward, past the recycle point. This left me back in 1921, rather than in 2015.

"I spent the next cycle leaping forward and observing this time knot and investigating possibilities. I identified you, through your granddaughters' article and the severely altered timeline that you manipulated in your fourth cycle. I was very impressed with your actions in your fifth life, but choose only to contact you in this cycle, due to the fact that I am now certain, beyond a doubt, that you are the common thread in the recycling of this time knot.

"Your mental resiliency in the face of a potential eternity trapped repeating your life has me curious to learn the things I cannot glean from casual observance," Envy said, concluding his speech.

"Ask anything you want," Lora said, finally turning to face him.

"Starting from the simplest questions first; why do you continue to go by he surname of Clark? You are not presently married and have not been married to Thomas Clark since your third cycle. Thomas Clark was an acquaintance during some of your fifth, but not since then have you had any interaction with him that I have detected."

"I think I just like the name," Lora said absentmindedly. Her eyes were in the room, but her vision was elsewhere. "Once you get used to a name, a name that was better than Blickton, it kind of takes over your personality. I couldn't imagine another name. And, I suppose, I keep it in memory of Tom. Things have gotten too strange and painful to manipulate him again and again. It almost seems unfair at this point. We had our time together. We had over two lives of time with each other. It seemed like enough."

Lora nodded in confirmation of what she had just explained. "What else?"

"I am impressed at your mental stability in the face of an extended life," Envy said. "In your third, you did much to better your world with technological innovations brought from your previous cycle. Discounting the recklessness of your actions in your fourth cycle, the fifth was quite a pinnacle of success. Installing yourself as the head of a company, in which you targeted specific aspects of life to improve, was more than effective. And now, early into your latest cycle, you have given similar improvements to humanity, at a faster rate, but remained in the background.

"Please, I would like to know what it is that motivates you to remain in good mental standing and to constantly strive to improve your world in the face of a potentially endless cycle of rebirth and reset."

"You sure know how to draw out a question," Lora commented.

She took a moment to think, then answered. "You say I face a potentially endless cycle of rebirth and reset. If you, a time traveling robot can truly know this, then you had better explain it to me. Because, I for sure don't understand it. I just keep trying to design a world I would want to leave for my children. Every time I reach ninety-three years old, and feel myself die, there is no guarantee that I'm going to wake up a three-year-old in Dallas and it will be 1921. Hell, how do I know that the world I died in isn't going on without me and I am in a different one, starting again?"

"I can assure you that you are coming back to the same timeline. Each cycle at the year of your death I am forced to jump forward as not to be caught in the breakdown of..."

"Your science is not in question here," Lora said, cutting Envy off. "It is a question of how I feel. There are no certainties. The life I have experienced tells me the world works one way. Physicists explain it, preachers share divine insight, and philosophers think on it; they all come to conclusions that are not my experience. Continuing to live in an endless cycle of 'rebirth and reset' is all I know. Who is to say otherwise but me?

"But I have hope that I am just an outlier. Perhaps this cycle will be my last. How would I know when I have hit my limit? How would I know when I paid for whatever sins landed me in this purgatory? Who knows when I will find a way to untie this time knot, as you call it. So yes, each time I try to do it better. Each time I learn more and more about the speed that humans can adapt. So, this time, I am really pushing the limits. I am tired of the public eye. I enjoy the anonymity of running things from behind the scenes while I pursue my own quests."

"And this time you made Timothy Hahn the head of your company," Envy said.

"Yes. From the ages of three to five, I stole a typewriter and wrote out the conclusions of my entire lives work up to that point. I gave Tim a timeline for implementation. Now, I find it hilarious to think about a three-year-old sneaking out of her room in the middle of the night to go to the woodshed and type about world domination through economic and technical means. But I did. And then I ran away and gave the manuscript to Tim, who was in high school at the time in Canada.

"Brilliant men often come from Canada," Envy said. "My own designers, in fact. And you knew about Timothy Hahn from your fifth cycle?"

"Yes. I stumbled into the man early in my quest to govern the Two-Hundred. He was the most intelligent man I had ever met, and I had tests performed to prove it. He had an IQ of 190, but had never had the proper environmental motivators and good timing to get a higher education. Closeted in his sexuality and other de-motivating factors left this man, who had immense talent for practicality and foresight, homeless and on the street. I used him as an advisor through my fifth and brought him my plan for this life.

"Have you seen Tim Hahn? He is the most popular man in the world. He has all the answers and uses them properly. He is the only one in this cycle who knows my secret. He accepted it all when he was only sixteen. Perhaps he trusts me too much, but even without any memory of our previous encounters, I know he fully believes my story of warped reincarnation."

"And now you have the freedom and funds to chase your own agenda," Envy concluded. "Which I assume is a way to break your cycle and die for good this time around, at ninety-three."

"Yes," Lora said quietly. "Once I'm sure this one is for the record, I can rest. I want to see my children again, but not until I know what I have done here will continue after I'm gone."

"I have one final question," Envy said. "Why you? What about you has kept these cycles going? Have you come to any conclusions?"

"In my past lives, it has been my hobby to answer this question. The past twenty years, it has been my full-time obsession. I have searched out every legend, conspiracy theory, and ancient secret known to man. I'm left with only questions. You are the biggest lead I have gotten," Lora said.

"No inkling as to why you are the focal point of this time loop," Envy concluded. "The answer is more than likely because there is no reason. The universe is an orderly place, but there are exceptions."

"But you have seen more of it!" Lora nearly shouted. "Have you seen something like this before?"

"There was a film made in other timelines called Groundhog Day. Have you heard of it?"

Lora laughed. "Yeah, it came around my first two cycles. After I started messing with things, it doesn't seem as though it was made."

"To refresh your memory: the protagonist is trapped in a time loop, but unlike you, his loop only encompassed a single day. Theories differ on opinion, but he spent several days in his loop until he exhausts his selfish endeavors and lives a single day in a selfless fashion. But this film is a work of fiction. A comedy, and has no practical applications to your current situation."

"I hope that's the case. Anyway, I gave up on personal gain long ago. I lived selfish lives and selfless lives, and I'm still here," Lora reflected. "And in my experience, real life is not a movie with a moral at the end. I have created the world I want to live in, the world I would want to pass on to my children, and now I want it to go on without me. So I am searching for a way out.

"Now, I have found you, the only other... whatever you are..." Lora searched for the right word, "Intelligence?"

"I am not an Artificial Intelligence," Envy said. "I have many of the requirements: reasoning logic, planning, learning, natural language processing, and agency. But those make me on par with Virtual Intelligence, as I only react to outside stimulus. I am not spontaneously creative, as is the goal with AI."

"Well, you are the only thing I have found that can retain memories through the restart of the time loop. And you have been vague about where exactly you came from and who sent you. So that is my question. I want to know about you before you came upon my purgatory."

"My entire history would take a very long time to tell. Most is irrelevant. I was created as a General Intelligence to assist a group of time travelers complete a specific task. I was found useful and after their goal was achieved, I was brought with them outside my world of origin. I was given a new task of exploring the known and unknown universe, in order to gather information and develop the interstices that exist between worlds."

"Interstices?"

"Cracks and or natural passages between worlds. The word 'world' being used as a general term which differentiates specific realities which exist in any time stream, planet, universe or dimension," Envy said.

"Other worlds..." Lora breathed.

"Yes," Envy said. "I am mapping them into a cohesive theory in an attempt to navigate the infinite distances in an economic way."

"Who is your master? He must have enough knowledge of all the different worlds to send you on this task! I must meet him! Maybe he can show me a way to end my cycles!"

Envy paused, remaining like a statue. Lora stared as the robot remained motionless. She could feel her shoulder muscles shaking under the skin as if she were cold, but she was not cold.

Envy at last moved his head. "I have not seen my master, in what I have experienced, as many years. When one travels up and down the levels of the multiple universes, time becomes irrelevant. My master also travels and I do not know his current whereabouts."

"What? Then how are you supposed to complete your task? Once you complete your map, how are you supposed to bring it to him? Don't lie to me! Have you been instructed to protect him?" Lora demanded.

"Nothing of that sort," Envy replied in his unflappable voice. "In my logic, once my task is complete, it will be natural that I will cross paths with him. And if my task is not complete, and I do learn of his position, and it is feasible to do so, I will share all I have learned with him. But none of these conditions have been met."

"What more could you learn of my world, other than why I am the cause of the loop?" Lora asked. She thought fast, using logic against the logic machine. "It would be in the best interest of your task to help me leave my world and journey to find your master. The knowledge you could gain by tracking him down could prove invaluable."

"You're correct in your assessment that I have learned all I can from your world, other than the underlying question of the origin of the loop. It is also the case that I have in fact found enough data and been working on a theory that could be brought back to my master. I do also know that he is much greater traveled than I and knows of things that my mind, created in a world founded in science, cannot reasonably explain."

"And..." Lora prompted, standing up off her couch.

"And therefore, I shall depart this world and take you with me to find my master."

Something overtook Lora. She leaped at the robot, clutching him round the neck. She felt a squeal go out of her and she laughed in spite of herself. When the fit passed, and she regained her self, embarrassed, she stood back from Envy.

"Excellent. Excellent. The ship will arrive at my island estate in the morning and we can make preparations to leave. Do we need to make preparations? I've never left my world before..."

"Each case is different, and some worlds are nearly impossible to leave. But your world is flimsy, due to the short loops it is stuck in. It will be simple to step out of your world, but the path to find my master will not be simple," the robot said.

"Then I will get some sleep and we can begin in the morning."

"I will not stay," Envy said. "I will jump forward in time four days, at noon, in the courtyard of your compound on the Farallon Islands. I request two mirrors, with pure silver reflective coatings, at least four feet squared in size. I also require 200 rounds of .380 caliber bullets, and a pound of finely ground aluminum. Prepare yourself and we will depart," Envy said. "Is this agreeable?"

"Perfectly," Lora answered.

Envy nodded, then winked out of existence with the most minor of disruptions.

Lora stood stunned for a moment, then floated to her bed and collapsed with joy.

Horizontal, she closed her eyes. Her brain kept running at full sprint behind the closed lids. She had always hated this part; waiting to fall asleep. Shutting yourself down for a few hours everyday to recharge be had always seemed absurd to her. If only there was a shutoff switch like a robot, she thought. Instead, the only trick to sleeping was to get comfortable and close your eyes and wait for sleep to overcome you. She never wanted to turn off, only keep going. And so much of how she slept was dependent on her body's current condition, rather than her mental presence.

She calmed herself and listened to the sound and vibration of the ship slapping against the waves, rocking slightly as it traveled north.

Waiting to come down with sleep was the worst. The ritual of it. The necessity of it. Perhaps because it reminded her of dying. The five times she had crossed that threshold, she had been at peace. She had completed a life, that if not perfect, was hers alone. Every time, she expected it to be the end. But every time, she woke up, just like she would in the morning. Dying was like drifting down a dark water slide, an invisible weight drawing you down deeper and deeper...
Chapter 6

They threw him by the arms into the dark cell without a word. Hyron felt his toe catch on an uneven floorboard. He could not stop from sprawling onto the hard, gritty floor. He didn't lift his head as the door slammed shut behind him.

He was left in the dark, still, unable to will his body to move. The cold stonewood under his cheek felt good on the aching flesh. The sweat on his back began to cool, and he felt at peace with the planks that held him. The hurricane that had consumed his life for the last six hours had pummeled his young body like nothing he had yet known.

Soldiers of the Governors thirty-three had grabbed him as he walked home from his masters' pottery studio. The first blow was the worst as it was met with confusion and anger at the thick-armed men who took control of him so easily. He was lifted from his feet and thrown into a chariot, where every protest was met with a swift strike. He learned it would be best to shut up and lay huddled on the floorboards as the driver wound through town. Eyes beginning to swell, he was drug into a white stone building somewhere in the center of the city. Here he was interrogated and further roughed up, accused of lies and crimes against men he had never known. After a lifetime of verbal and mental attack, he somehow made them stop. He spoke the words they wanted. The thought was intangential, fleeting, and then they left.

Hauled out of the room and into another, Hyron was held by the arms in front of a court. Before a trifecta of judges, he once again tumbled by words and concepts, too sharp to be brought into focus by his exhausted brain. But everything came clear for a moment, the moment right after the Supreme Judge stood and sentenced him, in the name of Negus Vabrin, to a life spent in solitude within the Tower of Cape. He began to cry and howl as they removed him from the court. He was swiftly silenced by another strike to the lower stomach the moment he was out of sight of his condemners.

The sweat of fear and pain, mixed with dirt and blood and grime, cooled to a film over his body. Brought to the tower and lead up into its high reaches, Hyron fell asleep where he was thrown, a prisoner forevermore.

In the darkness, a figure emerged from the deeper shadows of the cell. He stood straight-backed, hair meticulously raked away from his forehead, sidewalls shaven to the scalp. The face beneath crimson hair was old, unlike the strong body it commanded. The unknown man stood over Hyron, appraising the newcomer with a hawks' eye.

After a moment of observation, Hyron let out an unconscious whimper. Deeper into the darkness the man backed, disappearing from the cell. The young man slept off the first day of his new reality.
Chapter 7

The Auklet dropped into a wide orbit of the gas giant Inba Major. The old cargo ship slid around the green and purple planet in an intercept course with its water-world moon. Far off, the star that held the Korin system dimly backlit their approach. The space station, a fleck above the dark world, grew in size until Shang Feam's ship dropped down onto the landing deck beside the other cargo ships that would transport in goods and out raw material.

Techs in full exposure suits watched the landing struts attach to the deck. The crew ramp lowered and locked into place, giving the three men aboard access to the sub-decks, leading down into the station. Shang and Rider went first, armed with pistols in thigh holsters, the enhanced arms of the younger Feam carrying their minerals to sell. Charlie followed behind with a hard cased pack, which looked too small on his broad back. The giant also carried a carbine, slung in the middle of his chest.

The trio descended the sloping ramp, which terminated at a door to the main vein of the space station. Into one of the main halls, the traders and asteroid miners who did business on the station occupied storefronts. A cafe dominated one end and a pub sat at the other. The men and women on the station were the opposite of what one might expect. They were not a colorful collection of humans from around the Five Worlds, with differing cultures, societal norms, languages and customs. These were the pioneers of the Star People. These were the few who chose a life away from countless cities and towns, preferring to chase riches on the frontier. These were the hardest of men and women, both physically and mentally; misfits not suitable for any other type of work. They were far from sloppy or unprepared, somber in their dedication to turn a profit.

While Shang was nothing to look at, he was far from a soft target. Rider was an unknown quantity to an unfamiliar observer, the black metal exoskeleton and blank facial expression further masking his potential for defensive action. The two boxes in his arms were larger and more cumbersome than a single ordinary man could carry on his own.

Charlie Four ducked his height through the outer airlock door into the glass-domed hall. He took a moment to look up at the water moon that held the station in place. From orbit, it was nothing more than blackness, with a faint outline of illuminated atmosphere. But even in darkness there is light, and after a moment for focusing, Charlie could make out the swirling bands of bioluminescent currents.

All three entered the traders hall, receiving sideways looks from the scant numbers of miners, sitting on hard cases, in front of closed mineral trading offices.

"An hour before the traders open shop," Shang commented, noting the station time. "Rider, you get us in queue over at Electric Consortment. Four and I will be at the cafe, putting our ear to the deck."

"And backs to the wall," Charlie said, quietly scanning the hungry faced miners guarding their hauls.

"We won't have a problem. I'm sure of it," Shang said, patting his thigh rig and leading the way to the cafe.

The establishment at the far end of the hall was far more populated than the pub of similar design at the opposing end. The similarity and polar locations of the two establishments was not lost on the owners. In tribute to the twin worlds of the Achilleus system, the pub was named Balius and the cafe, Xanthus. Shang and Charlie wound their way through the decently populated tables, nodding to other mining bosses who were enjoying refreshments while their subordinates waited out the hour in the hall.

"Big trading day," Charlie commented as he took a seat, pack remaining on his back, against the wall as promised.

"True. And the balance will tip over to Balius after the trading is done. Nothing works up a taste for the inflated price of drinks like a pocket full of cash from a months worth of labor. Fools will be out late tonight tossing their hard work away instead of getting back to it," Shang said.

Charlie nodded, "Well, if you want to leave as soon as I get rid of what I have, that would be fine. I don't need to be walking around here after I ditch this thing. Once word gets around I expect to be hounded with all kinds of offers. I can message the supply center for the additional things I'm going to need once the credits are deposited in my account."

"And the Pearl?"

"I will find a custom ship builder to come out and do the restoration work, I think," Charlie said, running a gloved hand over his shaved head. "If I have the funds, I might as well get her put back together right."

"Maybe you shouldn't sell it here today," Shang said after he had ordered a mug of tea. He leaned in close, keeping his voice within the space of the table. "You might get a better price somewhere else. Everyone knows these traders make a killing on our hard work. And I suspect they are all owned by one entity, in the end. The competition would drive them out of business if they didn't get together and set prices. There is just too much to gain with the amount of precious and other raw that comes through this station."

"My ship has a hole in it and I have no one to point to as the culprit. How am I supposed to get a ship to get to Cyn, or even as far as Yomi, and try to track down a buyer without broadcasting the fact of what I have? I'd get killed for sure."

Shang nodded, yielding the point.

"At least here, I can get it off my hands," Charlie said, trying to sit back and look casual. "I may not get top dollar, but I'll get my operation back on track, and more."

A tall woman got up from her seat across the room and made her way over to the pair. She stood at an appropriate distance with mug in hand, but Shang and Charlie postured slightly. Charlie recognized her as the leader of an all female mining group that worked a pair of asteroids from a surface camp near the F-134 sensor buoy. Bashana was slender, with artificial magenta hair pulled back and pony-tailed high on her head. She spoke to Charlie first.

"I'm sorry to hear about the damage those pirates did to your operation."

"The bastards bored a damn hole in the top of his ship to get to his grains," Shang said.

"That's a shame," she commented. "And don't you have a classic star jumper? They jumped in right near us, but passed by for your larger rock. It's a terrible thing... You didn't come in to fold up stake did you?"

"Not today," Charlie answered.

The remark hung in the air with an unexplained quality to its brevity. Bashana cocked her head to the side and eyed the pair seated at the table.

"What, do you two have a deal going?" she asked. "Or did you have a grain hidden away for a rainy day?"

"Leave the boy alone, you shark," Shang said under his breath.

Bashana gave a dirty look and returned the jab.

"No wonder you had to pay a woman to give you a child."

Charlie put his hands up.

"None of that. Please. I'm not folding up shop, I just had a touch of luck after the raiders hit and now I'm getting back on my feet."

Bashana broke her glare at Shang. "Well, if something changes, keep me in mind. You have a nice rock out there and I could work out a fair price."

"Thank you, Bash," Charlie answered, ready to be rid of the conflict between the two, not to mention the attention.

The female mining boss walked away and Shang started explaining his past conflicts with the woman when an old, crusty miner at a nearby table leaned over.

"A bit of luck, had you, you say?" the old man said, unconcerned with revealing the fact of his eves dropping. "A grain or two? Perhaps even a nugget?"

"Something like that..." Charlie said coyly.

"Aww, don't be that way! This life is give and take. Humor this old chap! What has the universe given after first taking away? I've seen that ship of yours, you know. It was flown back in the crusades. I know it. That was an awfully steep price. So, what you got in return had to have been decent? What could it hurt? The shops will open soon and your secret will be safe with me."

Charlie was swayed by the man's words. More than that, an odd desire, from the bottom of his mind surfaced. He wanted them to know. He wanted the recognition. He was young, and he was new compared to the fossil before him. They would all know his name after today. Soon, he would be known for having the most successful mine in the L5, if not the whole planetary system. He was ready to take his place among the top mine bosses that sat in this cafe while their workers stood in the morning queue.

While Charlie paused to consider the request, Shang leaned forward, leveling a finger at the old miner. "Leave the kid be, Mick. No one cares about yer stupid Origin philosophies. Those nuts trying to find the source point of the universe are just like every cult that came before. Life ain't as simple as give and take. Life is just life."

The old man blew out a breath at Shang and turned back to his table.

"This whole place will come down around your ears the second you start showing your luck off," Shang whispered in caution to Charlie. "Those Origin devotees love hypnosis. Don't let em' talk you out of what is yours."

Charlie nodded, feeling momentarily foolish. He synched his pack a touch tighter around his big shoulders. A buzzer overhead let out a short bark, marking the start to the trading day. Traffic around the cafe and throughout the hall picked up as the various kiosks opened for business. Shang stood, slapped Charlie on the shoulder and stomped off in his own direction.
Chapter 8

The Golden Lantern slid into the custom slip that had been built for it on the south side of the South Island. In the roaring waters of the bay, just outside Seal Rock, two smaller craft buzzed. As Lora stood on deck, waiting for the sip to be secured and the gangway connected, she watched the people on the little boats, holding signs and banners, chanting slogans and yelling on bullhorns. Their words were caught and spirited away by the ripping winds.

"They make no sense to me," Lora said, motioning out to sea, as she walked down to the dock. The caretaker of the island compound, a small young woman, who was not much older than Lora, waited for her mistress to reach her side.

"I can call the Coast Guard and have them dealt with," Debbie Younger said, nearly shouting to be heard over the roar of the sea winds.

"No, let them protest. As long as they don't try to make landfall, I could care less what they do. Fire flares if they get too close to the dock. If they try to land anywhere else, the waves will smash them on the rocks."

"There is something else, ma'am. Before you arrived, around noon..."

Debbie was cut off as Envy suddenly came into view, rolling swiftly down the path from the compound and onto the dock to meet the freshly arrived Lora Clark.

"It just appeared," Debbie whispered. She took a couple of unconscious steps backwards as the robot approached.

Everyone on the docks and the big adventure yacht stopped what they were doing and stared. Most of the employees of Lora Clark half expected these sort of strange things to be seen in their line of work. They were hand selected, some times for no reason at all, and always well compensated. And on top of the material benefits of the job, most all had a strangely patriotic sense of duty in working for one of the top advisors to Doctor Hahn. Therefore, to see a robot of such a high level of sophistication, one could not help but to rubberneck, yet at the same time realize it was par for the course.

"You are late," Envy said to Lora upon meeting the two stationary women. "I specified noon, as your vessel should have arrived a half hour prior, by my calculations, before I departed. Were you delayed by those craft?" he asked, pointing to the bay.

"No. I just took a little longer in San Diego than originally planned," Lora said. She looked out at the protesting boats and noticed the change. They no longer were waving their signs and flapping their banners. The sound of amplified voices being thrown about by the wind was also gone. Lora turned back to Envy.

"They've seen you..." she said, turning back to the white robot. "Can you lower your arms so that you can carry us? It will look better if they think you are a simple machine, not one we walk and talk with..."

Without a word, Envy lowered his upper body and placed his arms parallel to the ground so that both the women could sit with their backs to his chest as he drove them away from the docks and up to the secluded courtyard of the compound.

"You are subject to much curiosity by the public at large?" Envy asked, aware of the additional passenger and her lack of disclosure to Lora's full secret. "Even with your non-prominent position within the League of Two Hundred?"

"There are always those that will distrust the government," Lora explained as Envy snaked along the path. "This is due to many things. I say it is mainly due to human nature and a lack of transparency. Most people could be convinced, if they knew the goals we wish to achieve are not selfish in nature. For the most part, all humans are corrupt and it's hard to find purity in anyone who leads. But Doctor Hahn is pure in his desires for the course of humanity.

"Maybe even that purity is a cause for suspicion. I also think that there is a huge struggle across the world between collectivity and individualism. We in the League try to stay out of the individual countries affairs. We don't impose laws or rules, instead we seek to bolster mankind by fostering cooperation, human rights, and overall advancement through targeted release of technology and aid to countries that play ball.

"For being a non-elected, unofficial one world government; a single man who has formed a group to improve and represent humanity, results have been generally well received. In fact, most nations recognize the League of Two Hundred as a turning point in our history and freely subscribe to our authority. That is not to say that everyone is on board. Several countries dissent, and not all support everything we do. Regardless, the League still includes and works with them.

"That is why every agent of the League, in general, is subject to the conspiracy theorists eyes. They see us as an unlawful and oppressive regime. Many hate us. So, even though I am not in charge, they see my wealth and property as a sign I must be up to no good.

"In truth, it nauseates me to no end when I see those morons out there. They are too short sighted to see that all I..." She paused and corrected herself, "we are trying to improve their lives. They act as all we think of is ourselves when we are actually thinking of the whole world."

"They couldn't be more wrong, Miss Clark," Debbie said. "Though I don't see it all, what you are doing for the world is nothing short of amazing. Things have changed more in the last thirty years than the last three hundred. The world is better off thanks to you and Doctor Hahn."

"Thank you," Lora said as they reached the building. "Envy, let's drop Debbie off here. Have the items I requested arrived?" she asked her assistant.

"The mirrors were flown in from San Francisco this morning," Debbie answered as she reached the ground and smoothed her skirt from the ride. "The other two packages have been placed out by the fountain."

"We are not to be disturbed," Lora said as she and Envy moved away.

"Will you tell me what the mirrors are for? Are you going to make them face each other and cause an effect that will allow us to walk into one of the reflected realities?" Lora asked.

Envy reached the fountain and allowed his rider to dismount. He went for the smaller packages, pouring the pound of aluminum flake in an internal storage hatch in his lower trunk. Next, he broke open the brick of ammunition and removed six rounds. He held the short cartridges in his left hand and turned the palm of his right face up, finger extended. A sheath over the metatarsals of his four-finger and two-thumbed hand slid open, ejecting six similar spent brass shells. The fresh bullets were loaded, and the sheathes slid back in place.

"You can shoot bullets from your fingertips?" Lora asked.

"An upgrade," Envy said, stowing the rest of the ammunition brick in a trunk compartment similar to the one previously used. "And to answer your prior question, also no. Each level of existence, according to my current theory, has a set of physics that govern it. In your world, which operates under the same laws as many similar versions, passing into reflections is not possible. While this is the case in at least one place I know of, here, we cannot step out of the present world and into another by using mirrors."

As Envy explained this, he tore the brown paper wrapping covering the custom made mirrors and held them by the sides, delicately in his rubber padded hands. Envy turned away from Lora and moved over to a grassy patch of the courtyard. Lora followed and watched curiously as Envy produced a jointed arm with a cutting laser tool on the end. In quick mechanical movements, the laser cut out circular sections of the mirror, dropping the rounds into the grass as the base of the robot moved to disperse the newly cut sections.

Lora looked on, confused as Envy sliced up the beautifully made, silver backed mirrors until nothing was left but the trimmings. Envy circled back to the first cut rounds, and with the same laser, this time using a dispersed beam, heated the metal and glass to a malleable state. A second arm came out of Envy's torso and shot a punctuated burst of liquid nitrogen at the center of the mirror, cooling it at different rates, causing it to become concave. Envy repeated this process on all the rounds, creating a set of mirrors with staggered degrees of concavity and convection.

"What are those for?" Lora asked. "Are they going to aid us in leaving my time loop, or were those just more supplies you wanted to restock?"

Envy finished his task and stowed the mirrors in a leather satchel, the interior resembling CD case. "It is not often I have a chance to re-equip helpful items, especially elements that are hard to come by, in some places."

"So... how do we leave?" Lora said, becoming annoyed.

"We must once again move," Envy said, motioning Lora to climb into his back.

Lora complied, moving to the back of the robot, riding in a near piggyback position. "Then why did you want to meet here? I thought..."

Envy activated his internal time travel device.
Chapter 9

Captain Falto knocked gently on the wooden frame of the governor's private office. The simple, yet towering wooden building stood across the street from the extravagant white stone of the capital building. The tall, thin officer ascended the wooden spiral steps to the loft without a word. He paused at the top of the steps and spoke.

"We took care of the WoExperitees boy, as you requested. There were no problems in the courts and he was placed in the top reaches of Cape."

The governor nodded thoughtfully from his simple wooden desk, gazing at the capital building through a large window. His white-grey hair fluttered subtly from the morning breeze drifting off the mountains that met the horizon. He stood, pushing back his simple stool with the back of his legs, and gathered the papers sitting at his desk.

"It's a dastardly thing..." Governor Planchette said, under his breath. "But we must do the small things to keep the Negus appeased."

"It is not my place to question your longview of the situation," Falto said as the shorter man closed the shutters on his open air window.

"You know you may say whatever you like," Planchette said to Falto. "I'm not blind enough to think I am capable of missing something."

Falto lead the way down the stairs and through the back corridors of the military headquarters. If any of the sergeants of the Governors Thirty-Three crossed their path, they nodded to the pair, but did not become overcome with expected military gestures.

"I just fear that it will set a precedent," Falto said. "If the Negus finds my wife to be pleasing, I would kill him long before I allow him to send me off to my death and imprison my eldest son."

"Well, then it is fortunate you have no wife, or eldest sons," Planchette said with a smirk as they crossed a wide training room in the basement of the building. Sergeants Emil and Olivas halted their practice of throwing blades as the two passed.

"Thank you, boys," the Governor said.

Captain Falto opened a small door in the back of the room and entered the tunnel that ran under the street to the capital building.

"But I understand your objections," he continued as they worked their way through the dim passage. "We will keep the boy until the Negus forgets him. He must give up any feelings for revenge or I will never be able to release him. Perhaps the Negus will even grow bored with his new family and set them to the side. Unquestioned power has undoubtedly corrupted his thought processes. But, time can change all things. So, we continue on with our plans, and the boy sits, for now."

They reached the end of the tunnel and Falto opened the door. The pristine white of the capital building corridors waited beyond, along with the potential of government staff.

"As you wish, Governor," Falto said formally, holding the door open and scanning for threats.

The governor tapped the captain with his folder of papers as he passed into the building, taking the lead as he walked to his official office, where the day's work of governing Merintill waited.
Chapter 10

There were three dealers that bought tropellite exclusively, and Charlie had loyalty to none. For most of the dealers, the price of metals and other desirable elements had fixed prices that were determined by posted averages of purchases and sales across the Five Worlds. In theory, the differences in price a dealer would pay was based on shipping costs that could fluctuate. Dealers boasted about their skills in establishing business relationships with buyers and transport companies. Around the cafe, and even more at the pub around the close of a day of selling, miners often whispered of conspiracies surrounding pirate raids paid for by those who would profit most from targeted price increases.

Taking the middle ground, Charlie approached the tropellite dealer who's buying price was not higher or lower than his peers.

Gavin Ruoos waited a moment to turn his chair around to greet the man who stood at his counter. He nodded his head at the large, young man who stood at the glass plate of his reception, placing his pack on the counter. "Have your ID and banking info ready?" he asked, bored with the way the day was progressing.

Charlie waved a hand over a sensor, letting it read the implanted chip below his skin.

Gavin, looking down spectacles perched on the end of his oily nose, nodded when he information displayed itself on his personal screen. "Okay, come on back," he said and the door to his kiosk opened.

Charlie entered the back room where elemental verification and trades were performed. He felt a bit shaky as he sat down at the counter, performing a standard transaction, which was anything but ordinary. Not since he had first came out to the far reaches of the frontier world of Inba Minor to cash in on his first load of mined materials had Charlie two felt this much apprehension and exhilaration.

"So what have you brought me?" Gavin prodded. He knew the big man was not slow in the head. But the way he was taking his time with showing him the tropellite was making him wonder if something had happened. Everyone on the Inba Minor station had heard rumor of the recent pirate raid of some of the L5 asteroids, but he had seen nothing to indicate that the raids were anything more than talk. Had this kid been one of the ones that had their stake raided?

"I want ten percent more than your posted rate, due to the size," Charlie said slowly as he drew the fist from the pack. He unwrapped the tropellite from the red cloth, exposing it to Gavin. "It has a mass balance of eight point six kilos. As far as I was able to tell, that's the largest nugget ever discovered in the Korin system."

Gavin Ruoos's eyes went wide as Charlie exposed the fist and passed it over. He didn't hear what Charlie said after his eyes rested on the oily, white gleam of the rare crystalline metal. His foot went instinctively to the floor pedal switch that activated the cameras in his office. A copy of the interaction would be made as well as live streamed to several influential individuals, including the other tropellite dealers in the trading hall.

"This came from your mine?" Gavin asked, turning the fist over in his hand, examining the entirety of what he had been brought. "You are out in the L5, right?"

Charlie nodded. He leaned forward and rubbed his dry hands together as Gavin pulled out a glass and hand held laser.

"This is the largest nugget I have ever seen," he said, keeping his excitement under tight control. "But that worries me as well... I can't place it in my analyzer," he motioned to the small open-faced cube featured prominently on his work counter. "Usually I can place grains in here and do a full spectrum scan. This appears to be true tropellite. See? It absorbs low frequency laser with negative heat conversion, but the size is just impossible. If this were solid trope, it would break the standing record of a find by two or three times! It is possible that this is just surface tropellite surrounding a common mineral, making it appear to be a solid nugget."

"No, that is all tropellite!" Charlie argued. "It's balance mass is in direct correlation with what something of at size should be. If it was just a surface layer, the mass would be off. I checked."

"Math is all fine and good," Gavin Ruoos countered, "but there could be any combination of elements in the core that just so happen to add up to the proper balance mass. I'm sorry, but unless I get it off station to be scanned by a machine that can handle an object of this size, I can't assume it is pure."

"No one on this station has an analyzer that is large enough? I can't believe that."

"I'm sorry," Gavin said, pushing his chair away from the fist resting in the middle of the counter. "Mayhap there exists a analyzer of that size on Yomi, but not here. We rarely see anything larger than a grain. I have never had any need to check something this size. But I can appreciate what you have brought me. It is beautiful and could be a collector's piece in its own right. But for the trope that I can see, I could only pay you for... Mayhap, a kilo... And that is being generous. I doubt anyone would even risk placing this in a drive core as fuel without in depth scans. But it's beautiful, so as I said, I may be able to sell it as a collector's piece. One point two million is the highest I can go."

"One million, two?" Charlie said in disbelief. "This fist of tropellite is worth ten times that much! What happens when I sell it to you for that and then you scan it to find it really is solid trope? Will you pay me the difference? I don't think so. This is the largest chunk of tropellite ever found, and I know it! If you don't see that, you are a fool and I'll bring it to someone else!"

"Well, I'm sorry you feel that way," Gavin said. He turned his chair slightly to his window where a handful of miners had gathered, clamoring to get a look at Charlie's fist. "If you think someone can give you a better price, that is your business. I wish you luck, but if you don't have any success, come back. I could go as high as a million point three."

Charlie scowled and shook his head. He gathered up the cloth-covered fist and got up to leave. As the door to the hall opened, he was met by a wave of miners in drab colored work clothes.

"Let us have a look, big guy."

"Charlie, hey, Charlie."

"Show us!"

The big man muscled through the growing crowd, his treasure securely grasped in a large hand and tucked to his chest. "You got eleven million? If so, you can see it all you want," he muttered at one of the more persistent mining hands bouncing in front of him.

The kid shrunk away as Charlie made it to the front window of the lowest paying tropellite dealer. With the crowd now at his back, he hurried to catch the unimpressed dealers attention.

"Please scan your bank information and identification," the thin dealer said to Charlie.

He waved his hand over the sensor with hurried intent. The dealer took his time authenticating the information and inviting Charlie to the back, taking advantage of the frenzy that was growing in the big man.

The door closed on the crowd and they shifted by the window as Charlie sat inside trying to do his business. Shang Feam was met by Rider as he came out of a common elements dealer on the other side of the hall from the energized crowd. Rider pointed out the commotion to his father.

"That is not good," he said, moving towards the tropellite dealers' kiosk. "It's his second attempt at a sale? Is the kid getting greedy?"

The Feam's reached the crowd and pushed their way to the door just in time to see Charlie come out, red in the face with rage.

"Give the kid some space!" the round man shouted at the tough men and women making up the spectators.

"Charlie! I'll take you to Cyn to sell that thing! We can split the profits! Way better than you can get here!" a daring young minor proposed in a shout.

Charlie's eyes locked on Shang and he made his way through the crowd to the older man's side.

"What's the problem?" Feam asked, confused.

"They don't want to believe it's pure trope. They are trying to cheat me! They think I'm an idiot."

"Well the situation is getting out of hand," Shang said, looking around. "Looks like word has gotten all around the station. If we stay much longer, you may get torn apart."

"I've got one more dealer," Charlie said without much conviction.

"Some men ran out of here in the direction of the dock," Rider said through gravely vocal cords, leaning in close to the two.

"The cat is out of the bag and the traders will stand together," Shang told Charlie. "You need to make a decision, Four. Dump it for what you can get, or we need to leave. Now."

"Oh, come on Charlie, let us have a look! Is it really all that big?" a faceless voice in the crowd let out.

"Let's get out of here," Charlie said at last, a look of defeat sinking atop his face.

Rider drew a pistol from his holster and swung an arc in the direction of their intended travel. The crowd melted back from the half-mechanical man, now armed and acting aggressively.

"Whoa, no need for that!" someone said.

"Go," Shang said, pushing Charlie ahead to follow Rider back to their ship.

The three miners broke from the gaggle and ran across the hall, climbing stairs to the second level and disappearing into the door leading to their ships berth. Charlie hustled behind the silent workings of Riders exoskeleton, jamming the fist back into the pack and cursing his poor luck at not seeing this eventuality coming.
Chapter 11

Lora could not fathom the pair of moments between leaving the Farallon Islands and her reappearance in another place. To Lora's brain, the world changed around her as she clutched onto the solid body of the white robots' winged jet pack. There was no movement on her part, just a changing of her surroundings; oily white light and stillness. The whipping sea wind was gone, replaced by nothing, and then the sharp, warm, thick humidity of the jungle.

Envy spoke as Lora was stunned to silence.

"This is fortunate," he said. "Not only have we traveled back to South America successfully, we jumped forward in time, beyond your inevitable death in 2014. Time has not come to a conclusion and recycled to 1921. This means we have extended the loop already, since you are still alive."

"It's 2015?" Lora asked, climbing down from Envy. She looked around the jungle, up and down the narrow path they straddled.

Envy was inspecting her, and nodded. He turned away and began to travel up the path, which was moving along the bank of a narrow river. The sound of water roaring down onto rocks came from ahead.

"What of the world? How has it progressed in the sixty years we skipped?" she pleaded as she followed the leader.

Envy narrowed his tracked base to better fit the path, but there was still much overlap. He ground up the plants and stones as he moved. "We are far removed from any civilization. We are secluded and will never know what this world has become with you not present after 1949. In truth, it should not matter to you. You wish for it to continue and to no longer experience the loops. With you gone, that should happen."

"No! I want the world to continue, but that doesn't mean I'm done. I want to die in the world I created when the time comes, after having left my mark. My full mark! I want children to pass it along to."

"That would be the ideal outcome for you, I understand. But this I cannot guarantee," Envy said. "We will track down my master and see if he has answers. I believe he may know a path to break your..."

"Curse," Lora interjected.

"Yes, perhaps it is. It is understood you wish to return you to your time in 1949."

"Thank you..." Lora breathed. "I must make it back. There is someone I want to see, if I can."

"We have arrived," Envy pointed, ignoring Lora's last statement.

"What is it? The waterfall?"

"There is more than one way off most versions of Earth. There are hidden sites scattered across your world. All lead in their own direction, but this one opens to the most options. Cross-worlds, this spot is the most constant. Many of the interstices are always open. Others can be opened with a proper key. This site opens once every revolution of the planet around Sol. Today is that day."

"Let me guess, it's behind the waterfall," Lora said, looking at the vegetation covered cliff. A veil of water fell from fifty feet up into a rocky pool below, before being whisked away by the groove of the river.

"True, there is a cave behind the base. We must move swiftly," Envy said.

Lora swallowed and nodded her head. She followed the path up the left side of the pool and climbed carefully over the slippery rocks next to the cliff. This time, Envy waited on the path as she went alone. Halfway to the pounding water, she turned back to look at the robot, and found him gone. Unsure of what to do and shivering despite the warm temperature, she moved forward. She faced the cliff and used both hands to shimmy along the narrowing way. Soon she felt the periphery of the falling water begin to pelt her head and back. She pushed onward, meeting more resistance and pain from the pounding water. Mist filled her nostrils as she breathed heavily. A panic overcame her as she felt like she would drown or slip at the edge of the falls when a strong hand grabbed her wrist and pulled her out of the deluge.

"Why didn't you just transport me inside the cave in the first place!" she said from her knees, soaked.

"Forgive me for testing your resolve, but the time has come. Let us move."

Lora got to her feet and followed the robot deeper into the darkness, her feet squishing in leather knee-high boots. Suddenly, a flash of light shot up from the depths of the cave in a pulsing rhythm. Lora paused and let the light overcome her.

It felt like dying, but in reverse, she thought. Instead of falling down a tunnel of darkness, she was blasted out in blinding light. Her body was gone from her and all that was left was her mind.

In 2015, on the sixth cycle of her life, Lora Clark, the center of her own personal time loop, broke free from her world and moved into another.
Chapter 12

The rain came down in sheets, battering the grey stone of the Tower of Cape. The green algae hiding in the mortar between stones came to life, slicking the wet surfaces. Stains would be left behind when the storms passed, but that would not be for another couple months.

Hyron sat, huddled in a thin blanket under his barred window, shivering, mind empty, listening to the rain. Around the window was the only light in his cell, the rest covered in deep shadows. Not that there was much space, it took Hyron eleven steps from the window to reach the heavy wooden door. He had counted earlier that morning after he awoke in the darkness and inspected the cell.

The door had a window, more bars, but was covered from the outside. He had pushed against it passively with thin arms, but it was as solid as the stone walls. His window, opposite to the cell door, was small. Resting his elbows on the sill, his hands easily held the place the bars re-entered the stone. A ancient wood bench sat under the window and was the only furniture present. The only exception was a foul smelling wooden bucket, with rusting hoops.

Remembering the bruising on his face and ribs, he dared not pound on his cell door. His stomach ached with emptiness and his feet felt frozen, but he still didn't knock. His body required food and shelter, but the fear was strong. Finally, after standing in the middle of the small cell for several minutes, overcome with indecision, he found a compromise.

Just as the sky began to lighten, Hyron placed his ear against the thick cell door and listened. At first, he heard nothing, and then came faint sounds. Heels clicked against the stonewood walkways, up and down the hall beyond his door. There was a clank of cell portholes opening and being closed. Muffled voices spoke. Occasional shouts. The sound moved closer. They were at the cell to his left, as he faced the door, he was sure. He jumped back to the middle of the room as he heard the footsteps stop outside his cell.

There was click, and the squeal of hinges. Hyron was shaking. He found himself sinking to his knees, eyes closed to the oncoming threat. But nothing came.

A voice barked a single word. It did not compute in his terrified mind. It was no word he had known before. Hyrons arms looped over to protect his head. As he hid absurdly, he was struck by a complex odor. He had noticed when he had smelled bad before, but never like this. Since his arrest, he had developed a stink totally foreign to him. He could do nothing but hide.

Several seconds passed.

"Boy!"

The voice was thickly accented, but the word finally registered.

"Bucket?" the gaoler repeated. His words were muddy and not as well enunciated as Hyron was accustomed.

"Ehh!" the gaoler grunted, giving up. A folded blanket dropped between bars and fell noiselessly to the ground.

The porthole door slammed shut, and Hyron remained in place. The sounds outside went away. It was still again.

Hyron opened one eye.

He crawled forward on his knees, timidly and poked at the bundle. Going over the exchange, the words fell into place. Hyron opened the grey, thin blanket. A square loaf of thick nutty bread was tucked inside, along with a flimsy tan long-shirt.

Tearing into the loaf greedily, the prisoner spread out the garment on the wooden floor with his free hand while he ate. It was much too large for his thin frame, but it was less dirty than the torn potters clothes he wore.

With the meager food eaten, Hyron pulled off his clothes. His former shirt, now ripped and stained with smatterings of blood, served as a washcloth. He held it out into the morning rain to collect fresh water from the grey sky. His young arms broke out in goose bumps as the cold rainy breeze whipped across the exposed flesh.

Slowly, and with much tenderness, the boy wiped himself down, cleaning himself off the best he could with what he had. Skin burning against the damp and draft, but now free of grime and dirt, Hyron threw the baggy garment over his head. From his old pants, he tore strips of dark fabric. Around his waist he fashioned a rope belt, since his own was confiscated upon his arrest. Sleeves were folded back to mid forearm, and tied down with similar strips.

Feeling odd in improved beggars clothing, legs bare but covered in practicality, he wrapped himself in the blanket and sat on his wooden cot. Head back against the stone wall, Knees pulled up, Hyron closed his eyes and listened to the pattering rain.
Chapter 13

The Auklet was wide and flat with two main parallel hulls running the length of the mining hauler. The ship was dark grey, it's large dual engines pushing it unusually fast away from the orbiting station and the dark water moon below. DuKain, seated in the pilots chair of his tri-engined star-skipper picked the fleeing mining vessel out with ease.

"That's the one, Caria, it's heading out for the L5, just like the Bishop told us."

"I'm doing a verification now," Caria came back over the comms, unconvinced by DuKain's words.

DuKain looked up and to the left at the identical star-skipper that shadowed his own. "Don't act like you don't trust me, Caria," he said with a smirk. "That is the one. I'm taking Apex after them. Pinnacle, you loop in planet side. We need to get them far enough away from the station that if security is dispatched, we can have that nugget and be on our way before they arrive."

DuKain's ship rolled backward, making a wide loop around Inba Minor station as the larger Auklet continued its predictable course to intercept the approaching gravitational pocket of the Lagrange point. DuKain sat with his back to his knuckle-dragging shipmate in silence. Both worked at their consoles, preparing for the violent intercept of the mining ship. The message offering a reward for the capture of a large nugget of Tropellite was just the thing DuKain relished about being an outlaw. Text communication from the companion raider grudgingly confirmed the pirate captains' visual confirmation of the target.

The larger ship suddenly and sharply shifted course.

"What was that!" DuKain shouted over the audio comm channel, directing his rage at the three individuals in his companion ship.

There was a pause before a different voice responded.

"Might have been from us," the soft spoken, but gruff voice of Eitan, one of Caria's crew, spoke over the comm. "But a ship like that shouldn't have the suite to pick up our-"

"You fool! After them," DuKain snarled.

Apex flared its engines in an attempt to match speeds with the tipped off mining ship. DuKain punched up the weapons systems on his ship as Pinnacle dropped into the chase from its planet side loop. Activating his single remaining missile, he set his targeting computer to the task of specifically destroying the Auklet's communications array.

"I'm taking the first shot. I've barely got them in my range, so I've got to do it now. How may missiles do you have left over there?"

"Just two," Caria responded.

"They are moving fast..." Eitan added. "They can outrun us with an overall speed that is greater than ours by two percent. Pinnacle is just outside of range."

"And if we shoot blind..." Caria said, stating the obvious.

Apex's targeting program chirped and DuKain punched the control. The yellow light of the missiles engine streaked away from Apex in a non-direct path that would overtake the Auklet and hit its communications equipment, rather than a direct trajectory that could potentially be avoided by the clever fleeing miners.

"Well that's the only clean shot we are going to be able to take until we can catch up! Blast! We need this nugget! Out of missiles! We need this cash to refit!" the pirate captain howled.

"They just began broadcasting a signal," Auban, the third and youngest member of the Pinnacle, nearly shouted across the pirates comm channel.

"Three seconds on the missile..." DuKain reported, watching the weapons program with intense interest.

Out in the void above the gas giant, the slender missile, the length and diameter of a man's forearm, caught up with its target. From DuKain's seat, he had already lost the point of light emitted from the engine when it struck the Auklet's hull, sending a barely discernible spray of carnage into the wake of the dark grey mining ship.

"That took care of their signal," Auban said a heartbeat later.

"Tell me they are they slowing," DuKain demanded.

"Not that we can detect," Eitan said.

The three ships moved in chase around the purple and green gas giant. Stars spun over the cockpits of the Apex and Pinnacle, as if they were fleeing from the planets horizon, which refused to come any closer. The storms of interacting layers of gas below became an ever-changing blur, as the mining ship seemed to remain in a static position ahead of the pirate raiders. The non-reflective grey of the skiff ran through a red hue of electromagnetic energy as Eitan once again spoke up.

"DuKain, if I could make a suggestion," he ventured.

"Well, what?" the pirate leader snapped.

"I'm trying to think what I would do in their place," he said and paused.

"Fantastic, Eitan! Do you want to tell us what you think?" DuKain shouted.

"Well, they aren't going to get any help out here in the middle of nowhere or go back to their asteroids. They would be cornered. So, again, if it were me, I'd be heading for Minor or Yomi to get help."

"And if we keep chasing them around Major, they will have a significant lead on us dropping back to the station or dropping down to Minor," Caria added.

"That ship is not designed to make planet-fall. They have no shuttles. They're not going to loop back for the station or splash down on the moon," DuKain said.

"Yomi is a long way off," Eitan said. "Should we cover Inba Minor in case you are wrong, boss?"

DuKain sat silent for a moment. He checked his scopes, they were nearly a third of he way around Inba Major. A decision had to be made soon.

"Jettison one of your missiles. It won't do me any good to have no ammo waiting for them if they do try back for the station. I will flare out one engine to make it look like we fell out rather than setting a trap," DuKain said with authority.

Pinnacle acknowledged the command and had one of their two remaining missiles released from its launch tube, unarmed and drifting in space. Apex, in the lead of the chase, cut its left engine and flickered power to the right, removing itself from the chase.

"Gronk, suit up. As soon as you recover that missile, we are headed back to Minor. They are not going to stop. I just know it. So, we have to be ready to do our own slingshot around the moon to have a chance at catching up to them near Yomi."

The square faced man seated behind DuKain nodded, got up from his seat and worked his way to the back of he cockpit.

In the pilot's chair, DuKain cursed his luck and sneered at the shrinking images of the other craft as they continued their run around the planet. He was making the best of a bad situation, but being low on fuel and supplies, the extra work required for a simple bit of piracy was grating on his nerves. He took a deep breath and moved the ship to an intercept point with the drifting projectile.

Caria flipped a pair of switches in the dark of the cockpit as the ships launched away from Inba Major. Light from the system core splashed across her long blonde hair, pulled back tight into a tail on the back of her head. Her face was sharp but attractive as it glanced from the physical reality in front of her down to the simplified computer representation.

"You were right, DuKain," she said over the comm as soon as they cleared the gas giant and re-established contact with the Apex. "They are heading straight for Yomi. We are not that far behind."

"I will be about twenty minutes behind the both of you. As soon as you are able, disable their engines," DuKain's voice ordered. "Depending on how close you get to Yomi, this may be all on you. If you have to run from security forces, lead them to me and I'll use our last shot. I'm sending you coordinates of fall back points in case we need to split up."

"Acknowledged," Caria sent back. "It will be a long trip, but we will stay on them."

"I'm depending on you here, Caria; you and everyone on the Pinnacle. If you try to screw me on this deal, I will never rest until I find each of you. But if we do its as a team, there will be a huge reward for everyone. Another ship, more crew, captains duties... Let's not forget what I have done for each of you."

"There is no need to worry, DuKain. We would never think of double crossing you," Caria replied. "We are going to rotate through rest cycles. We will call if anything changes."

She closed the channel.

"Did you really mean that?" Eitan asked, leaning over Caria's shoulder. "If this tropellite nugget is as big as the Origin fanatics say it is, we could buy a ship so powerful that even if DuKain did find us, it would do little good. We could even go legit and stop this petty work bouncing all across the Five Worlds... Pay off our bounties on Balius..."

"Are you suggesting we really cut him out of the score?" Auban spoke up from the rear. The accusation in his voice was sharp, like a younger sibling right before they tattled to their parents.

"Calm down, kid, he is just talking. We haven't planned anything yet," Caria said.

"DuKain has always been fair with us. He would never take a score and run on us..." Auban said quietly.

"If you really think that, you are a fool," Eitan said, turning around and starring right at the newest member of their crew. "We all had history when DuKain found us, but did you ever wonder where he got a great pair of star skippers like these. We ain't no fools like those dumb miners. This is not a job you retire from. You run hard for a couple years then you get out."

"None of that matters," Caria interrupted. "If this is really the biggest nugget those crazy Origin fanatics have ever heard of, then this will not be an easy job. The universe will charge a hefty price for it. Get some rest and we will worry about what to do with the nugget once we have it in our hands."

Auban turned away and slouched back in his chair. He pulled up a vid on his station and shot a perturbed glance at the other two. He noticed Eitan lightly touch Caria's arm and give it a squeeze. He sneered as he sunk lower in his chair and kicked his feet up on the console.
Chapter 14

Kyle Voont stepped out of his single seat mag-flier and adjusted his fresh uniform. He examined the older model flier that he had parked beside as he crunched across the gravel over to the small outpost building. His flier had hard case utility compartments bolted to the outside for additional equipment. The ranger on duty had none. Kyle drew out his personal scroll and activated the thin red laser, pointing it at the door access panel. The door took a moment to authenticate his identification and access to the site, but it soon did and slid open to reveal the interior of the remote watch post.

Not more than two steps from the threshold, an older man sat in a tall backed chair with his feet propped up on the control panel. "Your my relief, I take it?"

"Hi. I'm Kyle," he said, letting the door close behind him.

"You must be new, you are here a half hour early," the other ranger said.

Kyle looked at his nametape, which read B. Francis. His jumpsuit was unzipped down to his navel, boots were loosely tied and standard shin gaiters lay off to the side. The pot-bellied man dropped his feet and called up the surveillance surrounding the outpost.

"You have a nicer flier than mine, so you must be fresh out of the academy. I doubt they will ever give me any upgrades... Have you even done zone orientation, or is this your first day?" Francis asked.

"I've done orientation in the primary region. We discussed the outlying zones, but this is my first time out to any of them," Kyle answered.

Francis zipped up his jumpsuit and began to put his boot situation back in order.

"Well, welcome to the Crowhaven Expanse station. I'm not a field training ranger, but I guess I had better give you the basics of this god forsaken post," Francis said, then paused to study the fresh face before him. "You must have been pretty unlucky to pull watch out here. Not much rangering actually goes on. Why did you even become a ranger? Are you trying to make this a career, or..."

"I chose this service to gain my citizenship," Kyle admitted in a low voice.

"And you mentioned that in the academy," Francis said, nodding his head. "Someone should have warned you! If a black hat catches wind you're only here to become a citizen, they mark it down in your file and you get these types of assignments. They save the bacon over butter jobs for the rangers who are planning on being lifers. Oh well, kid. At least this duty takes you from civilian to citizen in three years... You could have chosen a longer path!"

"Better than being a desk clerk in the Library of Yomi," Kyle agreed.

"Well, there is not much out here. You monitor the NSI for any activity. Since we are so close to the Akesh band, few people come out here. Scientists will come out for studies of the microbial life in the hot zone, but they usually check-in ahead of time. I see some hikers and occasionally photographers and other fools come out to see the Tomb of Krios, but no one lasts long. Be on the lookout for them; they will get themselves stranded. I warn them away if I run into people like that.

"Other than those highlights," Francis concluded sarcastically, "I'm sure you can go over the entire post and all your equipment in the time it takes me to fire up my flier. There are no frills here, just the basics. Enjoy. I'll see you in 26 hours..."

Kyle stepped forward and placed his hands on the back of the station chair. Francis gave a mock salute and walked out of the station without another word. Kyle stood alone in the old metal building listening to the sounds of B. Francis adding power to his magnetic interrupters. A second later the old model flier could be heard jetting away from the outpost.

Kyle was alone.

"Crowhaven Station, Orbital-Attack Four." The speakers on the desk came to life.

Kyle's eyes went wide as his hands reached out, shaking, to confirm his presence to the NSI. It was his first time receiving a message at the expanse station, and he was unsure of the originator of this call sign.

The display over the console came to life with his identity confirmed. Orbital views of the close-pole hemisphere showed an animated trajectory of a pair of crafts inbound to the planet. Orbital-Attack Four began to narrate.

"Planetary monitoring has identified a situation that has developed overhead. A pair of crafts has entered our sector of defense, in what appears to be a pursuit, from the outer system. The smaller craft, the pursuer, has fired on the lead craft, a non-atmospheric transport ship, forcing it to the surface."

Kyle breathed out hard, watching the highlighted animation terminate on the red hued ground. He reached up with his hands, rotating the view angle and zooming in on the crash site. It took less than a rapid heart beat for him to realize that the larger craft had angled their crash landing toward the only prominent landmark in the Crowhaven Expance. The Tomb of Krieos.

"What are my orders? Is there a security team inbound?"

"The ships reached the surface ten minutes ago, and it was decided a security team would not be dispatched. A second smaller ship is inbound along the same trajectory, indicating this is an illegal action of violence on the part of the pursuit craft. Unfortunately, any security forces would arrive too late to do any good for the grounded spacecraft. In all likelihood, all crew of that craft are dead and the other two will be gone shortly.

"Your orders are to perform an initial size-up of the scene, locate potential survivors, and await a Knight who will make a full report. If the aggressor craft has not departed by the time you arrive, you are not to engage, rather observe and attempt to maintain any further damage to the ecology and monuments in the area. Do you understand the task which you are assigned?"

"You can show me responding to the crash site," Kyle said.
Chapter 15

"Those dingoes!" Shang Feam bellowed from the controls of the Auklet. The whole ship shook as it plunged through the atmosphere of the tidally locked world of Yomi. Charlie Four and Rider Feam sat strapped in behind Shang, nervously watching the displays.

"First they sink your ship," the old man shouted to Charlie, "then they force mine down on a planet! This ship was built for space! Now she will never get back into the sky! Don't these Jackals know that a man's ship is his life?!"

"Father, angle away from the pole. We must land inside the habitable band. We can escape on foot," Rider spoke with his gravely voice.

"I know! I'm pulling as much of an angle as I can. But we need a plan. We will crash and the first ship will be on top of us. We need to find some terrain or a structure..." Shang shouted over the creaking roar of falling ship.

Charlie flipped through the undamaged scanning channels until he found one that gave him a view of the ground. Nearly in the direct path of the Auklet as it streaked toward the habitat zone was a oddly shaped mountain. Something about the regular lines prompted him to speak up.

"Is that a building? Three hundred four degrees of the ships nose?"

"You see that too, huh?" Shang said between clenched teeth, as he held firm to the ships emergency yolk. "I just started going toward it a little bit ago, and now it looks like a building."

"A ziggurat," Rider said.

"Well that's the best I can do for us... We won't be more than a couple hundred meters short of it."

The old man was sweating. He turned away from the controls and looked at his son.

"Sorry I wrecked your inheritance, boy. All I ever wanted was a son to pass my life on to. We can get another fast heap, you remember that. But that will never happen if you're dead. So when we hit, we play it safe. Make these fools pay if we can, but survival comes first!"

Rider nodded and the ship finally yielded to the pull of Yomi, coming to a less than graceful landing on the planets surface.

All available underbelly thrusters flared at maximum, but for a heavy ship that was never intended to enter a planets atmosphere, they did little to cushion the splashing down on red dirt and hard rock. The impact of the Auklet shook the ground for miles. A long scar ran for a hundred meters behind the hunk of useless metal where the forward momentum dissipated upon landfall.

Feeling as though he did not lose consciousness upon landing, Charlie still felt confused. The next thing he processed was Rider bashing away at the pilots chair. He looked out the front viewport to find the structure they viewed from the sky not far in the distance, it's dark features cloaked by a veil of red dust. He unbuckled himself from the seat as Rider continued to bash away.

"Get a bar," the old man croaked as Charlie lurched over to the opposite side of the raging young Feam.

The pilots chair was crooked, the deck plating warped, pushing the seat and the console together. Charlie peered down at Shang's pinned legs. Rider stopped his assault and went in search of something to use as a lever.

"Does it hurt?"

"Just the left, a bit," Shang said. "But that don't matter. Charlie, listen to me; you two gotta get out of here. Those pirates are going to land any second."

As if conjuring a demon, the sound of the raider craft wined overhead as it settled to land behind the beached Auklet.

Rider growled out a low creak, announcing his return. He held a pry bar nearly as tall as himself, jamming it in the pinched gap. Positioning himself with feet on the console and arms baring the top of the chair, Charlie nodded to Rider and the two put all their effort into extrication.

The landing sounds of the raider craft ceased. The gap between the seat and console had widened minimally. Rider once again growled.

Shang Feam shook his head as he spoke. "Go boys. Go! Leave me a pistol and get to that ziggurat. I'll hold 'em off."

Rider growled. Charlie climbed down from the console.

"This is all my fault! I should have never taken this ride from you! I should have fortified my claim better! I should have sold the fist at the station! I'm so sorry, Shang!"

"I said go!" Feam shouted in the face of his son.

Rider let go of the pry bar in response.

"Charlie," Shang said, attempting to grab the big man. "Don't you let them take that beautiful fist of trope. That nugget is a gift from the Three. You grab a survival bag and a carbine and hide in that ziggurat until help arrives. I'm sure a Knight will come. I still believe there is order in the Five Worlds..."

Charlie handed his pistol over as Rider stamped off.

"Don't do anything stupid. I'd rather give up the fist than have anything worse happen to you. I owe you too much now. Your ship..."

"Shut up and get! And take care of my boy!"

Charlie slapped Shang's shoulder and left the cockpit.

The two fleeing miners exited a hatch on the port side of the ship and dropped five feet to the dusty red ground. The high heat immediately surrounded them and burned their unaccustomed lungs. Charlie and Rider both carried small survival packs. Rider's was custom, mounted to the outside thigh that was not carrying a pistol. Charlie wore Shang's as a backpack.

They started off in the direction of the ziggurat when Rider stopped and swung the barrel of his carbine towards the rear of the ship. On top, Charlie saw an active laser-cutting torch directed at the ship. He saw two more figures atop the ship pulling security for the figure operating the torch.

"Don't do it. I doubt you'd get more than one before the others take cover. And there is another ship inbound. Let's just get moving," Charlie said, putting a hand atop Riders weapon.

Rider responded with his signature growl, but followed after Charlie's led.

As he and his exo-skeletoned partner fled across the dry, dusty, but hard packed terrain, Charlie felt his skin open up and begin to shed fluids. The pair followed along a natural trench away from the crash site, breathing hard and shielding their eyes from the hot radiating light of Korin. Charlie's mind raced as he ran, the pack slapping against his back.

They were halfway between the crash and the ziggurat when Rider suddenly halted. Charlie turned back to his companion. "What?"

A cacophony of gunshots came from the Auklet. The muffled exchange went on for more than a moment, then ceased. Rider turned heels back for the ship.

Charlie, moving swiftly, shoved the black exo-skeleton sideways, throwing Rider into the dirt wall of the gully.

Riders eyes burned, then went wide as Charlie threw himself into the dirt beside him. Overhead, the second small raider craft swooped in low, hovering over the downed prey. Dust flew as the ship settled down atop the dorsal side of the Auklet near the first teams' breach point.

"I'm sorry," Charlie tried. "But, there is nothing we can do but hope for the best and keep going."

Riders face was stone; stone covered in sweat and red dust. He blinked once and left Charlie in the dirt. He went in the direction of the ziggurat. Charlie took two more deep breaths and followed.

They ran and ran while the pirates worked over the abandoned ship. Charlie stole back glances every couple hundred feet: no change. Then several of them were standing around on the hull. Th next glance back, the hull was clear. Seconds later the ship perched atop the Akulet rose and turned in their direction.

Charlie and Rider hit the black stone steps of the building. Looking up above the great door, Charlie read: The Tomb of Krieos, and below that, Reshaper of the Five Worlds.

"They are coming for us," Charlie told Rider, who was examining the sealed main entrance.

"Exterior stairs to the roof," Rider pointed out, running to the side of the ziggurat. He pointed at steps built onto the high stone walls. "We take the high ground. If they land up there, we ambush as they dismount. Best either way."

Charlie nodded, signaling to Rider to take the lead. The climbed the stairs, tall steps not intended for normal human ease of ascent, but for Charlie's legs and Riders unnaturally flexible exo-skeleton, the pair had no problem reaching the roof.

With their new view of the crash site, Charlie's heart was wrenched at the broken spine of the former mining craft. The corners of his mouth down-turned and heat came to his cheeks as he thought about the damage the pirates had done to the Pearl of the World and now the Auklet. It was his fault. His hand went to the survival pack and felt for the fist of tropellite tucked away at the bottom of the bag. He considered fishing it out right then and throwing it down off the roof of the tomb and be done with the whole mess.

But, the fight was not to that point yet. They still had options before it came to that. And if he gave up now, it would all be for nothing. He would be here, stranded in the scorching heat of a planet that was not his own, without a credit to his name, and no chance of ever making it anywhere. It would be in the next hours that his decisions would affect the rest of his life. Without that fist, there would be no line of descendants from which he could claim.

With a new resolution, Charlie turned away from the crash and approaching craft and ran to find cover. A step into his movement, one of his large feet stuck, sending him sprawling across the rough stone roof.

He hit hard; full body contact with hands out flat just in time to cushion the fall, but only slightly. Charlie turned his head to see what had tripped him and noticed the loose large tile. He rotated around, still prone, and pushed the thick black stone tile away from the area it had covered. At first, there was only darkness bellow, but then his eyes adjusted.

"Rider!" he shouted, "I've found a way in!"

They dropped down in the darkness, their feet making distinct sounds in the maintenance corridor. Low lights came on where the tops of the walls met the ceiling. The motion activated lights spread evenly across the bland interior. As the pair ventured out into a main hallway, much wider than the one they dropped into, the decor did not change. Dark grey floor and walls and ceilings, all made of the same material. Only at the thresholds to new halls or rooms were there decorated encasements. The lights followed them as they walked.

"This place does feel like a tomb," Charlie said. The still air and silence made his heart race as they walked solemnly down the main hallway of the top level. At the first room they encountered, they stepped inside. The lights of this room also came alive, along with displays and lights inside cases that were displayed prominently in the center of the room.

"Trophies from his crusade across the stars..." Charlie commented, walking through the room, letting his hands brush across some of the items. "It's like a museum in here."

Charlie heard Riders metal feet restlessly clack at the entrance to the trophy room. He ignored it. A display in the back of the room caught his eye. As he approached, a thin crystal sheet rising out of a half-sphere, grey metal base came to life and began to play video. It showed stills taken nearly two hundred years prior.

Beside the display were gauntlets, old and worn, made for large thick arms much like his own. The revelation that his great-great-grandfather was real, more than just a bedtime story, hit Charlie like a paralyzing shock of electricity. The crystal display flickered through stills taken during the crusades, with one man always standing out from the others. Aias was at least a head taller and twice as wide as most the men. Video captured from stationary cameras during a ground assault were slowed down, showing his forefather bashing through a line of defending riot troops like a bull through a wooden fence. Another still came on screen: Aias standing on the top steps of a classic looking building, a high necked duster across his shoulders, spear in one hand. He stood next to other Knights. Krieos, clad in his classic armor, declared victory over the capital of Cyn.

Charlie felt a wave of goose bumps and tears swell in his eyes as the next image. The giant Knight posed atop a beautiful warship that he recognized right away. The Pearl of the World looked the same as always. The thought of his last sight of the ship, a hole cut right where Aias had been standing in the picture, put a heavy weight on his chest. Rider interrupted the moment by calling to him from the doorway.

"They've landed. We must split up. Find better weapons or a way to escape."

"Alright, if you..." Charlie began, but Rider had left.

"Signal if you find something!" he shouted after Rider.

Charlie took a breath he didn't realize he had been holding. He glanced around the trophy room, trying to make up his mind about his next move. Before his feet had moved from the spot, he was sure what he needed to do.
Chapter 16

Rider sailed through the tombs maze of hallways pausing only long enough at each room to see if he could find anything of use. He held his carbine slung across his chest and ready in his hands, prepared to take on the pirates the moment he spotted them. He was furious he had been unable to help his father and had his heart set on exacting revenge. He wanted more than anything to find a place to ambush those that were in pursuit, regardless of the fact he was unsure of their number or capabilities. He considered circling back to the top, closing them in the tomb, and stealing their ships, even if that meant locking them in with Charlie. Or better yet, lock them in and overload the engines on one of their craft. He could destroy the entire ziggurat with everyone and everything in it, just to avenge his father. But his father could still be alive. The pirates had been smart so far; it was doubtful they would leave a ship unguarded and enter the tomb together.

He considered this all as he stalked down the halls, revenge in his heart. He passed another room with a paltry glance and stopped mid-stride to have a double take. The room was more an alcove than the large chambers he had passed previously. Rider stepped inside, immediately sure he had found something of great value.

Three glass cases sat against the wall, the backlighting coming on as Rider approached. The case on the left was empty except for a blank black mannequin. The center, and right had similar mannequins, but they were clad in matching, exquisitely crafted armor. Both were form fitting, black weave fabric with armored bits seamlessly protruding from the under-suit. Dark red striping in an electric-jagged pattern streaked across the chest and legs. The helmet was also close fitting, smooth and regular, the electric crimson bolts rising up the checks, turning at an angle where the eyes would sit and then back up again over the back of the head. The only difference in the two remaining sets of armor was the capes and cowls that covered them.

Rider pulled on the door to the center case, finding it locked. The same went for the right case, this set covered by a cape and cowl that was black on the outside, a deep purple lining. The left, empty case was unlocked. Without an obvious solution, Rider took a step back and sent a powerful front kick through the glass case in the center. Rider examined the all black, battle-worn and burnt cape belonging to this set of armor and grumbled in approval. He began to undress the mannequin, glass crunching and grinding under his metal feet.
Chapter 17

When Charlie Four stepped into the large chamber at the lowest point of the tomb, he stood motionless, in awe, taking in the unexpected sights. Where all the rest of the tomb was a museum to the leader of the Star Crusades, the chamber at the bottom was the opposite. This room was lived in. This room was a workshop, not a burial chamber for the great warrior Krieos.

He didn't come here to die, Charlie thought to himself, He built this tomb to retire away from the Worlds...

Charlie wondered through the room, looking at all the schematics and advanced scientific formulas hand drawn on wall panels. Tools and equipment of all kinds were set up on workbenches scattered throughout, with heavy cables running from workstation to workstation. As he walked deeper into the high ceilinged room, he found what appeared to be the focal point of whatever Krieos had been working on. What looked to be a powerful laser cannon, with various modifications, sat atop a geothermal vent capped by an oversized power converter. The thinnest control station, containing no more than two knobs and a throw switch, stood on its own stand next to the strange emitter.

Next to catch Charlie's eye was the odd stone arrangement at which this device was pointed. The thick slabs of stone were blue in color. Two stood upright and a third was laid across the top. Unknown electronic devices were attached to the edges of the stone gate and connected by cables.

Unable to understand some of the language written on the consoles and on the plans written on the walls, Charlie removed his pack and pulled out his translating device. Scanning the headlines of some of the wall writing, he began to develop a rough idea of the strange research that had been conducted in the room. With suspicions high, Charlie scanned the freestanding control station over by the emitter. He scanned the two knobs first, then the throw switch.

"Primer... tuner..." he read off the translator.

"Portal," he breathed in disbelief.

Had Krieos secluded himself in this tomb to work on building this device, Charlie wondered. The label reads portal, but to where...

Voices came from the far side of the room. The voices did not belong to Rider or Shang. Charlie ducked down. These were not friendly voices.

"Lights on in here," one of the voices pointed out.

"Strong wall the room," a deeper voice commanded. "Sweep through, this may be the end of the line."

Charlie felt everything in his body constrict. This was the end of the line if he didn't do something. But, if the legend that his great-great grandfather had entrusted his life to, had faked his own death to hide away researching and building a portal, then that portal was good enough for Charlie Four. The fact that Krieos was not present in this tomb spoke something of this crazy contraption.

Charlie turned the first knob. The modified laser cannon beside him hummed to life. Charlie jumped slightly, encouraged, and turned the second knob. The electrics on the stone gate came to life.

"I've got something!" an unfamiliar female voice said, closer than before.

Charlie flipped the throw switch forward and the cannon fired. The bolt hit open area in the stone gate and became a wall of solid blue plasma. Charlie threw his pack through the portal and the wall of plasma dissipated. The switch flipped back to its original position, but the bag was gone.

"I've got him," one of the pirates announced. "Hand over the trope nugget!" he shouted at Charlie.

Charlie flipped the throw-switch forward again and fired a long burst from his carbine. The smell of dust burnt up by the friction of accelerating bullets tickled his nose as he turned away from the pirates and ran for the portal.

Here goes nothing, his brain screamed as he dropped into a feet first slide through the gate. As he slid the last few feet across the ground into the blue-lighted plasma covering the threshold, his final thoughts were of the brief sight he had gotten of the pirates as he sent fire in their direction.

I know I'm a big guy, but that one was so small...

As this thought crossed his mind, Charlie Four screwed his eyes shut, his body passing through the artificial gate, built by the mighty Krieos, and sending him outside the Five Worlds.
Chapter 18

Kyle Voont was sitting sidesaddle on his mag-flier at the front steps of the Tomb of Krieos when the Knight arrived in his aircraft. The sleek terrestrial craft approached from in-world and circled the scene several times. Kyle had his scroll opened and was monitoring the area communication channel, waiting to give the arriving authority a report, but no requests came. Finally, the craft landed between the downed mining starship and the tomb. Kyle walked over as the vertical landing aircraft powered down.

The ramp under the cockpit lowered and the Knight came down the short steep ramp. He was clad in black, a thermal regulation suit under a thick duster, with a high collar that stuck straight up, ending just below his ear canals. He held a combination staff/mace and a formidable looking pistol strapped to his chest. The knight had premature receding hair at his temples, but combed in a classic manner, and an annoyed look in his eyes.

"I was monitoring the command net," Kyle started, "but for some reason, nothing made it through, that is, if you sent me any requests for information."

"I sent nothing," the Knight said flatly. "I am oOtrad, Knight of the Star People. And you are the Ranger in the area?"

"Yes, Orbital-Attack sent me out here as soon as they crashed."

The Knight turned away from Kyle and stalked toward the Auklet. "Thank you for coming, but I have it from here."

Kyle caught up to the flapping duster, undeterred.

"I've been here nearly two hours. There is no one in there. I've checked everything out. I've been everywhere. I could save you some time."

"'Been everywhere?'" the Knight stopped, giving Kyle a real size-up for the first time. "Did you enter the Tomb?"

"No, I didn't go in. But they did. The crew of the ship atop the tomb followed the miners."

"So, the Tomb of Krieos has been unsealed..." the Knight said. "And you are sure they all went inside?"

The pair arrived at the edge of the Auklet. The beached ship stunk from leaking chemicals and burnt hull plating.

"There is one dead. He was shot several times. He looked like he was trapped at the pilots chair," Kyle said.

The Knight climbed up the side of the ship with the fluid motions of physical experience. "I must go inside to document the scene and retrieve the ships information. You didn't touch any evidence, I trust."

"No. But I did get the identifiers on all three ships, as well as identification on the body. Here, I'll send them to you."

The Knight disappeared inside the ship and Kyle sent the information he had gathered. After a few minutes the Knight emerged and joined Kyle on the ground. He didn't stop to talk, but continued on towards the tomb.

"Your information was helpful. I didn't know they taught Rangers to do investigative work."

"Oh, we don't. I just figured I would write this stuff down, cuz you were going to need to know it eventually, right?" Kyle said. "I was here for the last two hours with nothing to do, I figured I should do something."

"No occupants in either of the smaller craft?" the Knight confirmed.

"Nothing."

"Where was the breach into the tomb?"

"On the roof, next to where that ship landed," Kyle said.

"Was it a violent breach? Who made it? You saw them go inside?"

"It looked like someone just removed a block from the roof," Kyle explained while they traveled to the tomb. "No explosions or anything. When I got here everything was just as you see it. I checked for survivors and noticed the hole."

The Knight hummed at the information and keyed a button on his mace. "Send a message to the castle at Trounce City. Tell them that the Tomb Of Kreios has been unsealed. Request a team to be dispatched to the Korin system to document the findings and to make a decision on the future of the building."

"No one has been inside in years, huh?" Kyle asked.

"That's right. If you are correct about the intrusion, I must enter the tomb, assess what damage has been made and remove the pirates who forced that mining craft down on the surface."

Kyle led the way up the side shelf of the tomb, using hands and feet to climb the large, awkward stairs. He was sweating profusely despite wearing his thermo regulated Ranger uniform. Without doing much work of motion, breathing the hot air was not terribly rough on his young lungs. Keeping up a respectable pace in front of the Knight while climbing the side of the tomb was much more strenuous. Now, aggressively climbing three or four stories worth of decorative stairs, he wished he had brought along his breath filter.

Reaching the top, attempting to conceal how winded he was, Kyle pointed out the place the shipwreck survivors and their pursuers had entered the tomb. The Knight nodded, positioned himself over the hole, shined a light from his mace to examine the area, but then paused.

"I thank you for your assistance, but this is as far as I can take you. The Tomb of Krieos is a sacred place by its own rite, and even more so to my order. Please do not follow me into the tomb."

"Wait, what if you need back-up?" Kyle asked. "I can make sure you don't get ambushed. Or if something does happen, I will come right back to the surface and send a call for more Rangers."

"Knights do not typically operate without support, even when stretched thin. This is my duty, please stay here."

The Knight prepared to drop and Kyle stopped him once again.

"If I was older, you would not have the same reservations," he pleaded. "I am capable and will keep out of your way. There are only advantages to bringing me along. My Grandfather told me all about Krieos and the crusades when I was a schoolboy. I would want nothing more than to see the inside of his tomb. I will show the same respect as you would."

The Knight studied him with unblinking eyes, considering the request, remembering back to his own youth of seeing his first Knight of the Star People. It took one look at the tall Knight and Kan oOtrad knew his future in the Five Worlds. This boy had been helpful thus far, he admitted to himself.

"Alright, Ranger, you may accompany me into the tomb."

oOtrad buckled his knees and dropped into the tomb without a sound.

Kyle took a slightly different approach, facing away from the hole, dangling his legs, dropping to swing from his hands, and finally dropping to the floor. He landed beside the Knight, who was scanning for sound with his mace.

"From here, I detect no proximity," oOtrad whispered in the silence. "Are you ready, Ranger?"

Kyle nodded, and the two moved off.

"Why do you think the smaller ships were so interested in the mining ship? That's a pretty big deal to force a starship down to a worlds surface."

"Pirates, most likely. They are another problem that has become more common with the Knights wane in resources."

"The miners must have something that the pirates really want," Kyle commented. "Hopefully they don't try to sac the tomb on their way out..."

"If there is anything in here of value," oOtrad commented. "The interior of this place is unknown, for the most part, to us in the knighthood. We know Krieos collected a great many things as he conquered. The construction of this place, he oversaw personally, and kept under a blanket of secrecy. Anyone who was alive then is long gone. The Knights left their former leader alone and focused to hold the gains he had made.

"So, in short, there undoubtedly are artifacts in here worth stealing. I must prevent that. Prosecution for homicide, property damage, and trespassing are secondary. "

"Well, I bet the miners went all the way to the bottom to get away, so we aught to hurry..."

"Wait," oOtrad said, halting Kyle at a room he stood in front of.

Without a word, he entered the room and the lights inside the cases came on. Kyle stood in the threshold as the Knight examined the room.

"Empty..." he said aloud, looking in the cases. "This was the armor room of Krieos."

"The pirates must have taken all the armor..." Kyle suggested.

"I don't know," oOtrad said, examining the cases. "The first is unlocked and there is some dust on the mannequin. The other cases have been smashed, and there is no dust..."

"Perhaps there was a grave robber that came before the pirates, and the pirates stole the other two sets..."

"That would explain how the miners entered the tomb to begin with," oOtrad said, becoming quiet. He put a hand to his chin and tapped as he thought.

"Krieos was known to have three different versions of a similar cloak that he would wear over his armor: A dark grey cloak to blend with the common, a ceremonial cloak made of fine fabrics, and a heavy black cloak he would wear in battle.

"We must apprehend these trespassers and retrieve the armor," oOtrad said in conclusion. "Come, we must change tactics. We will swiftly sweep through the tomb and apprehend these men. They must not find an escape; they must not steal the armor of Kreios!"

Kyle's eyes went wide and he nodded nervously.

"Let's move!" oOtrad said, and sprinted out of the armor room.

"I can't believe they got away," Kyle said to oOtrad. He sat on the step to the entrance of the tomb. "Where could they have gone? We searched the whole place top to bottom. Do you think it had to do with that strange machinery we found in the basement?"

oOtrad stood nearby, working on a detailed report. "I suspect there is more to this place than a simple tomb. I am calling for an investigation team, as well as a contingent of Rangers to guard the tomb from further theft."

"That's probably a good idea..."

"I will be sending along a commendation on your part in this. You will have to forgive my initial resistance to your involvement in this case. You proved to be helpful," oOtrad said. "Pardon me, but I must be off. Please wait for the guards and give them a picture of what needs to be accomplished. Do not allow them to enter the tomb. You should consider yourself quite honored to have gotten the chance to see the interior of this place."

"I am, and thank you," Kyle responded.

With a nod, oOtrad the Knight of the Star People turned and left for his ship.

Kyle stood to watch as the aircraft raised vertical in the air before blasting off in the direction of the cool zone. He let out a deep breath. He walked over to his own flier and unlatched the utility case that was attached to the left side. He drew out the black helmet and traced a finger long the red painted energy bolts.

Kyle turned back and looked at the entrance of the tomb. He re-read the words above the large, decorative door as the sun continued its steady wash over the area. He had spent years learning about Krieos and the Star Crusades, and this was not even his first time out to the tomb. But today, getting to go inside was a dream come true. If anyone deserved, or would truly appreciate, all he found inside the tomb, it was he.

The other sets of armor, though...

He was left with the itchy, unfulfilled feeling of not being able to answer how the pirates could have disappeared from the sealed tomb. And the fate of the miners? It was a mystery that tugged at the edge of his brain, pleading to be solved.
Chapter 19

Lora continued to follow Envy as he led through the tunnel, the pitch of the ground angling upward. Light suddenly became visible ahead and Lora almost ran past the robot to meet the light. But the though of being totally outside her world stopped her. Instead of becoming paralyzed to the fear of the darkness behind and the unknown ahead, she walked along next to Envy, forcing herself to be calm and take it as it came.

As they approached the exit, Lora became acutely aware of the new air she was breathing. The sensation reminded her of getting off of an airplane in a land far removed from the one you came. The quality was starkly different, in taste and the way her head began to swim. The taste of rotten apples and other chemicals took her breath away, forcing her to sit down at the mouth of the cave. Envy helped her to her feet.

"The oxygen content on this world is slightly less than what you are used to," Envy explained. "You will not be in any danger of hypoxia, and will find there are added physiological benefits to prolonged exposure for someone from your world."

Lora nodded and wrinkled her brow, feeling a headache forming in the center of her forehead.

"We are at a high altitude as well, so discomfort is to be expected. We will descend as soon as possible."

The robot exited the cave and Lora stood up, hand on the stone wall. She stepped out into the brilliant light and waited for her eyes to catch up. The ground sloped away sharply and Envy was already on the move. Lora trotted to catch up, head bouncing from side to side, taking in the sights.

The grass was short and wind-whipped. Upon close examination, the blades and stems were dried out brown, but with a hint of purple. A small seed bulb on top resembling wheat, but much smaller and round, was light green. The dirt path the pair traveled had a well-worn and wide center section, with two narrow strips on the outside. Far down the sloping ground, which started to bowl out, was the dark shine of the ocean.

"So, where are we? Another planet?"

"We will take a path, through the worlds which I have been mapping. Along the way, we can look for my master and continue to map pathways among the multiverse. This first step is a nearly desolate planet that has been visited by humans before. Here, we will travel to a space station orbiting the planet and attempt to use ancient technology to travel across the stars."

"How far are we from Earth?" Lora asked, turning and looking back at the cylindrical trapezoid shaped mountain they had emerged from.

"We are both one hundred meters and unknowingly far from your planet," Envy answered. "But, you must not think of distance in the way you have been accustomed. Shall I explain the concept of the multiverse to you?"

"I have heard the theory before: that each star has the potential for a complement of planets, and billions of stars make up the galaxy, and billions of galaxies make up the universe, and there is a potential for billions of universes to exist, as long as the laws of physics that govern them do not contradict, causing them to never form properly."

"That is an adequate description," Envy confirmed. "While most universes share similar physics as your own, slight variation is possible, allowing for a wide range of possibilities. But one should find, after traveling far enough, that in order to come into stable existence, most worlds are very similar. It is like animals on Earth. There are outliers, but most have more in common than not."

"So, you have been here before? What is this place like?"

"I have not, but it has been added to my mapping. I am aware of certain facts that will allow us to move through the world and on to the next."

Lora contemplated as she followed the robot down the slope. Above her head, the sky was a deep purple at the crest, fading down into a pale blue. A flash of movement caught her eye. From her right, a meteorite entered the atmosphere, burning up like a firework, pieces visibly breaking off as it rocketed in the direction of their travel.

"Is that a structure ahead?" Lora asked the robot.

"Yes," Envy said. "This is a farming island, in a remote part of the world. Below is a transfer station, which will take us to a city. The residents presumably use the pads for harvest purposes. From the city, we will travel to a space station, which should have technology we can use to move on to our next step."

"And you know all this from, what. A story?"

"An accounting of my masters passage, yes."

"What kind of city? Who lives in it? Aliens?"

"Abandon that line of thinking," Envy answered. "It is unproductive. We are travelers, and everything we encounter will be foreign. Especially to your senses. Therefore, it is best to take everything with an open mind."

"That's a good reminder," Lora said aloud. She found herself becoming more comfortable with speaking her inner thoughts to Envy, rather than just in her own mind. She shook her head at herself and smirked at the machine. It had a disarming quality in the matter of fact way it spoke. No judgment in its voice, just helpful fact. Never too much information, just enough to cover the truth and remain in cooperative conversation.

Lora wanted to ask the robot more, to flush out its deep secrets. She felt as if this robot must have more to it than just a General Intelligence created to assist time travelers. It had obviously surpassed its original programming. But every question that began to form in her mind suddenly became stupid and childish, sure to lead to nowhere. So, she marched on in silence, a quiet piece settling over her as her headache subsided. She was outside her world of purgatorial repetition and on a great adventure. She was happy to just enjoy the ride, for now.
Chapter 20

"Weep, weep, weep: that's all you ever do," a voice said from above him. At first he thought it was the force of his father. It was a voice he rarely heard throughout his life, but a voice firmly implanted in his mind. A voice he loved dearly.

And then he recognized the voice was not the one he had known. Not here, not in the Tower of Cape. Not in this empty stone cell. Hyron lay balled on his bench, cocooned in his blanket, the dim light of the window casting shadows on his waxen face.

"You have only been in there three days, boy. If you keep up with the tears, in another three you will be dead!"

At first, Hyron could not speak. He looked around the cell, not moving, and saw no one. He lifted his head.

"If you want survive, you can't lay around like a pitiful kitten."

Hyron sat up. This time, he could tell the voice came from the cell to his left. It was more muffled than before. It was followed by a hacking cough. The boy crawled from his bed to the stone wall dividing the cells. His blanket fell away as he pressed his ear to the stone. Up high and down low were small gaps in the wall to allow for airflow and floor beams to pass between cells. Hyron could see nothing in these gaps but spoke to his fellow prisoner anyway.

"What am I supposed to do?" he asked.

The coughing was his only response.

"I didn't deserve to be put in here. I didn't do anything! I'm a potters apprentice... The tower is for enemies of the Negus, I though."

"Then you are an enemy of the Negus," the voice answered.

"But I'm not! I swear I'm not! I don't know what to do..."

"You have to do something. And weeping all day is not something."

"What should I do? There is nothing in here to do... What do you do?" Hyron whined.

More coughing. "An old man can only do so much. I used to do more. Your anchor must not rust."

Hyron was perplexed at the advice but was excited about the possibility of conversation. After the solitude of the past three days, he craved mental stimulation. With no one on his right, this old coughing man on his left was his only company.

"What is your name? I am Hyron WoExperitees."

"I am Renault of Castt."

"Castt?" Hyron repeated. He sat with his back against the stone. He spoke into the empty room as he pictured his neighbor doing the same on the other side. "That is very far away, isn't it?"

"The Lands are endless, and I have traveled far from my own," Renault answered. "But you, you are from this province, I can tell from your accent. Are you related to the brothers WoExperitees?"

"Yes, that was my father and uncle."

"You did not follow them to be a great runner?" Renault asked.

"No," Hyron said. A frown forced his way onto his face. "I must have inherited my mothers knees. I never liked to run. And I would never be able to beat either of their times in the great race. I would hate to constantly be compared to them."

Renault broke into a coughing fit.

"Are you sick? I wish there was something I could do."

Hyron listened to the man as he caught his breath, wheezing and producing sputum.

Renault chuckled through gravely vocal chords. "You should learn from me. Stay active and on your feet or the damp of this tower will kill you. I am stupid. I can't learn a simple lesson for the life of me."

Renault laughed again, causing more minor coughs.

"I need to rest," the muffled voice on the other side of the cell said.

Hyron heard the shuffle of feet and the squeal of stretching rope on wood as the old man lay down. More hacking coughs came from the adjacent cell, but no more conversation for the rest of the day.
Chapter 21

The surface of the grey pad was smooth and solid. As Lora and Envy moved to the center of the square, man-made structure, she couldn't help thinking of it as a tennis court crossed with a helicopter pad. At each corner was a small nub, but otherwise, there were no other features. Envy halted in the center.

"Mechanisms below the surface are accessible by remote. It will take me a moment to reproduce an activation signal," he said. A small dish on his head emerged and pointed at the hardtop.

"I assume the residents of this city are not as different as you and I if you can copy their techniques?" Lora asked.

"Indeed. I believe most residents from this world are transplants from some version of our Earth. While you and I are from different versions, we still have enough in common to interact effectively. Therefore, activating this pad is akin to picking a lock on a house door."

As Envy finished his explanation, his mini-dish retracted and the ground came alive with bright colors. Patterns of lights in rings and pillars erupted, dancing around the pair. Lora spun around in wonder as the bobbing lights grew in opacity and fervor. A high pitch whine picked up from the far left and seemed to pass overhead, as if in stereo. In the blink of an eye, the purple-blue sky was gone, along with the short wheat-grass fields. Replacing it was metal and stone.

The pair were at the end of a hall, in an alcove the size of the pad in the field. The walls of the recess were painted tan and offset the dark grey of the tunnels. And they were tunnels, Lora felt, as they proceeded away from their entrance, no windows to be seen. More transportation pads were seen as they walked down the main tunnel, heading in a direction chosen by Envy. The way was wide and tall, confirming the robots story of the pads use for farming equipment.

Walking towards the pair, on the opposing side of the tunnel, a figure came into view. Lora kept her head forward, as Envy did, but studied the passerby with her eyes. At first, what she saw was confusing, and her brain refused to process. But as they passed, an image was burned into her mind.

"Was that a woman with green skin and vines for hair?" she whispered to Envy.

"It appears so," he answered, pointing ahead. "We are approaching a great room."

Reaching the end of the tunnel, the cavernous room ahead was great. With multiple levels ringing the walls, crisscrossing catwalks in the center area, and a giant skylight providing illumination, Lora was taken aback. Beings of varying types passed around the odd pair that had just emerged from an industrial transportation tunnel. Lora followed Envy, who acted as though he belonged as he wound through the bustling city center. It took very little concentration for her to follow the white robot using her peripheral vision, and observe the new strange place.

Scattered among the residents were a mix of peoples. Some resembled the green skinned plant -like the woman they passed moments before. Others were hybrids of humans and noble animals. There were german shepherds, brown quarter horses, various types of cats, great apes, and tropical parrots. Each looked at Lora with a suspicious eye as she passed. Conversely, the fur/hair/feather-covered human bodies with animal heads amazed her. Peppered into the population were normal humans, lavishly, yet scantily dressed. These humans were shorter and smaller than the hybrids, and looked like natives of the Amazon rainforest.

Suddenly, a little brown body was at her side. The young boys face looked right up to hers as she was walking along. The native boy grinned, causing her to stop and smile back.

"You are different from anyone I've seen here," the little boy said, in perfect German.

Wrinkling her brow, yet continuing to return the warm smile, Lora knelt down to the boy's height.

Envy noticed his companion pausing, and did the same, spinning one hundred eighty degrees to watch the exchange.

"You speak German?" Lora asked the boy, surprised.

"This is the way everyone here speaks," he responded.

"What is your name, child?"

"Where did you and your friend come from," the boy asked. His mannerisms were open and innocent, hands at his side, belly protruding, and black eyes staring unabashed.

"From far away," she answered. "And how about you?"

"From beyond Daër Acte?" he asked, disregarding her question.

Lora looked to Envy, who translated, "This planet."

"Oh, yes. From beyond Daër Acte."

"Where? Where did you come from?"

Lora conceded. "I'm from a place called Earth."

The boys' eyes went wide. "The one with the big desert?" he asked, amazed.

"I guess so. We have some big deserts: The Gobi, the Sahara, the Patagonian."

"Where are you going next?" The boy asked, once again determined to get an answer.

Lora put out a hand to place on the little boy's shoulder and ask her own question, when the child panicked. He jumped back and to the side, avoiding the touch, as if Lora had leprosy. As she began to protest, the native boy turned and ran, dodging into the crowds, disappearing from view.

After they were once again alone, Envy spoke.

"That was an odd encounter. It seems the locals speak German. And you as well."

"My third cycle; I learned it in preparation for my fourth."

Envy paused and nodded. "We should move. Ahead is a kiosk where you may finally meet my master."

In the center of the great space, under the light from the skylight, a suspended bridge met two more. At their convergence, was a three sided pillar, resembling stone. Envy approached first, performed his version of a sidestep to allow Lora full access. She stood in front of the stone and shot Envy an inquiring glance.

"What do I do here?"

"Piush has many amenities as well as services. Would you like a virtual tour of the cities main attractions?"

The air a half-inch above the pillars' surface came to life the moment after she spoke. In front of her was the bust of a man, similar to a sculptured bust of a famous musician one would place on a piano for inspiration. The speakers' hair was slicked back and pomped up, black-blue, and coated in a thick viscous. Not a single strand was individually distinguishable, or out of place. His face was angular, yet rounded, and painfully symmetrical. Not a trace of facial hair was to be seen. The teeth seen beneath thin lips were brilliant white, and impeccable. The background was bright pastel pink; bright enough to give contrast to the flawless skin, dull enough to not detract from the guide.

"Is this...?" she asked Envy, knowing the answer, but wanting to hear it.

"Before you is a virtual likeness of my master. He goes by the name Aros and is of a human like species called Tarkin, from the planet Yazos. He has been traveling the interstices of the multiverse since long before my creation."

"And how did he end up a guide on a pillar in a city with plant and animal people?"

"The template for this projection was a hero of Daër Acte and love of the Queen when she was just a princess in the Court of Orannis," Aros answered, gazing right at Lora, purple eyes intense and half squinted. "After his untimely departure, the Queen ordered all city guides to be recast in his likeness, so all may feel the warmth he brought to the Court."

"Someone was obsessed!" Lora said to Envy.

"My masters account states that he was held prisoner by an infatuated royal youth."

"Does he really look like that? Purple eyes and iced hair..."

"This is a highly romanticized depiction, but yes, there is enough accuracy for instant recognition," Envy replied.

She studied the face, soaking up the familiarity. Finally, she had to break away. "So what do we do with this? Ask it where Aros is now?"

"There may be critical information about this world contained within the program. I suggest you ask it questions to best determine a method of passage to the next world."

"You ask, I wouldn't know where to begin," she said to the robot.

"It would be prudent for you to do the inquiry, as you must learn to navigate a path through the worlds in the event of my absence."

"Why, are you planning on leaving me?" Lora asked, not hurt, but suspicious.

"As with all independent units, biological or mechanical, unforeseen events can occur. It is possible I could be destroyed, or even unable to follow places only you can go."

Lora sighed, but put on her best college professor voice. "Tell me about this place. What did you call the city, again?"

"Piush is a transient city, and one of the three permanent settlements on Daër Acte," Aros answered smoothly. The face disappeared, leaving a three dimensional representation of the city in its place. "The structure of the floating city is an elongated octagon and is home to three thousand souls."

"It seems like there are more than three thousand residents," Lora said. She looked around at all the creatures moving about, and groups of Amazonians sitting on bundles of possessions along railings. Small groups sat together, with energetic children, like the one she had previously met, doing nothing in particular.

"The city is designed to hold more than the three thousand, and is currently twenty-three and a half percent over that number due to the approaching solar storm," Aros answered, his voice speaking over the city display that continued to point out places of interest. "The city was built four hundred years ago using found ancient techno..."

Lora cut the narration short.

"Approaching solar storm!?"

"Wait," Envy interjected. "There will be time for that. The history lesson could prove to be more important."

Lora disagreed, but let the robot have his way. "Please continue."

"The first people of Daër Acte found abandoned building technology which allowed them to construct the city of Piash. The city is a free-floating stone island that is able to remain buoyant despite its enormous weight. The city drifts freely on seasonal ocean currents, harvesting food and resources from natural islands using teleportation technology."

"Who were the first people of Daër Acte?"

"The ancestors of the Court of Orannis journeyed to this land from another, nearly four hundred years ago. The specifics of this migration are unclear."

"And the 'found technology'," Lora probed.

"It is told that a single device, capable of transforming raw materials into machines was found. The brilliant people who first discovered the land were able to make larger versions of this machine. Soon, with a plethora of manufacturing machines, the city of Piash, Dzanrao, and Caj were built and filled with all manner of wonders."

"And the hybrids?" Lora asked. "The plant and animal people; where did they come from?"

"You refer to the Freed," Aros said. "The Freed are new to Daër Acte. Sixty years ago, a new race appeared in the land. At first, they lived in harmony with the Court. Then, a group known as Scientists brought forth the first of the Freed. They were used as slaves, and used as force labor for the Germans. For ten years, the Germans, lead by the Scientists, took control of all three cities and imposed their will on the Court. The German language became dominant, and the old ways were forbidden. At a point, both the Freed and the Court had had enough. The Scientists were forced from their home on Caj. Now, the Court of Orannis rules and the Freed enjoy their protection."

"The language used indicates that the city called Caj is also a floating structure? This contradicts the previous statement that Piush is the only floating city in Daër Acte," Envy asked.

"Good catch," Lora agreed.

"Piush is the city in the water. Dzanrao is the city on land. Caj is where the Court of Orannis sits, and it drifts above the sky," Aros clarified.

"Where a solar storm is approaching..." Lora said. "That's why there are so many people here, isn't that right? They've had to evacuate due to the storm."

"That is correct," Aros replied. "All but the Court have left Caj."

"And that is where the German scientists were based," Lora said to Envy. "If they escaped that city when the people revolted, then that is probably where we need to go!"

"I would agree, Lora," Envy said. "It appears that our understanding of this city's history was crucial."

"I can't quite tell if you are pointing out valuable lessons," Lora said, "or rubbing it in my face."

"Perhaps now is the time to clarify the condition of the approaching storm," Envy said.

"Over the last four years, solar plasma eruptions have increased," Aros answered. "We are currently at the end of a growing season, and a late storm is developing. Projections showing the path of the discharge indicate that this eruption is headed directly for Daër Acte. Caj is partially protected, Dzanrao would be devastated, and Piush is fully protected from any harmful emissions."

"When will it hit?" Lora asked. "And how bad?"

"Three hours. A direct hit by a discharge of this magnitude will undoubtedly disable most technology for several days. Southwest hemisphere crops will most likely be devastated until the next growth season. Repairs are expected to take some time."

"Then we have to get to Caj before the storm! We can't stop now, we just started!" Lora said. "Do we go back to the teleporter we came by?"

"Travel to the city of Caj has been restricted until after the storm has passed and damage is accessed," Aros answered.

"Is it possible to visit the Court of Orannis in the protected zone?" Envy inquired.

"Requests for an audience can be made at the topside temple during non-emergent conditions."

"They will have to make an exception!"

"Agreed. Show us the path to this topside temple."

"By taking this highlighted path, you will find what you seek," Aros said.

Envy turned without ceremony and moved in the direction indicated. Lora took a last look at the likeness of Aros, placed her hand on the pillar and began to walk away. The projection of Aros tracked her as she moved away. As she was about the break eye contact with the kiosk guide, he winked. Thinking it was her imagination, and she paused for a double take. But the image had not moved, and now looked straight ahead, ready to serve the next inquiry. Lora took a step...

And ran into a herd of horses.

Their eyes were human, their heads were not. Their exposed skin was covered in horsehair. Bodies beneath synthetic jumpsuits were shaped like men. Lora's eyes first sunk from their faces, as she tried to sidestep the group. Their feet were hooves, long blond hair protecting their ankles like Clydesdales. A human shaped hand covered in grey horsehair shot out and halted Lora.

She put her head up.

"Who are you?" The German speaking, grey, lead horse demanded. "Are you one of the Scientists? Back to enslave us?"

"Look at her pale skin!" someone said.

Other deep horse-voices chimed in, demanding to know where she came from and what she was doing in their city. Envy zipped back to her side, lowered from his standard height, fingers poised in dangerous positions. The herd took a startled step back.

"I'm fine Envy, wait," she said in English.

She turned back to her interrogators and smiled. She spoke German and held her hands open in front of her. "I am Lora Clark. I am not a Scientist. I am just passing through your city. I am definitely not a German."

"No, she is lying. Her skin is bright, just like those who whip us!" a horse in the back spoke.

"Why, then, do you speak as we speak?" the grey asked.

"I came from a land that fought against the same Germans that created you," she said, getting some twitching from the herd. "I am no lover of the Scientists that abused you all. In fact, I sacrificed my life to find a way to stop them."

"Scientists lie," the grey said. "But I have never seen a Scientist use a mechanical man as a pet."

Envy relaxed his hands and moved out of his combat crouch.

"I seek an audience with the Court of Orannis," Lora said. "I must get there before the storm. I must speak with the Queen."

"What do you want with our Queen?" the brash horse in the back spoke up once again.

"Him," she pointed at the deactivated stone pillar. "I am looking for that man."

Two of the horses in the herd whinnied. Lora took it as a laugh.

"That man was here generations ago! Long before the Scientists and Freed walked the three cities," the grey said.

"And the Queen is old now," Lora led. "Don't you think the queen would be brought joy knowing that I would find her long lost love?"

The horses considered the request, and the grey spoke up before all the others. "I will go with you to the temple, Lora Clark. I do this to ensure the truth behind your words."

"That would be great, I would love a guide," Lora said in her most regal voice. She put out an arm to be escorted, but the horse ignored it. He stalked off in the direction Envy had previously taken. Lora and her robot followed.
Chapter 22

The city had an odd feel to Lora. In all the cities she had visited over her hundreds of years of life, Lora Clark noticed unmistakable similarities. Tall buildings cast shadows that cooled even the warmest places. The dense stone or concrete created a sonic environment that was instantly recognizable. Vehicular traffic, construction noises and air vents added flavor. The smells. The artificial or pardoned green spaces. The penitent for proximity to water. Human cities she knew.

But following a human-horse hybrid through the artificially constructed, floating city, Lora could feel the subtle differences in her bones. There was no traffic; only foot travel. The people were diverse, but tended to walk with their own kind. They spoke in low voices, reserved; concern for the oncoming storm was evident. There was a lack of signage to mark shops, routes, and advertisements. The temperature was even, sunlight filling the center areas.

The grey led the two out of the sunshine, and up into the reaches of city. There were no stairs, only ramps; the way was always wide.

With a lack of scenery to distract her, Lora realized she did not know what to call her guide. She was about to speak when she realized Envy had rolled up beside her. Thinking he was there to speak, she was taken aback when an orange and white striped cat passed swiftly by. He went right up to the grey, and swatted at his longhaired tail.

The horse spun around, lowering its head. He snorted at the newcomer.

"Ulmer! You take this one to the gate? We had an agreement! You promised to introduce me to Chief Angas at the next opportunity! And here you are, taking a light skinned woman?"

"Back down, cat!" Ulmer the grey spat. "There will be time for you later."

Both creatures' tails twitched in agitation. The stand off lasted another few beats before the feline spun away.

His eyes astounded Lora. The emerald green gave way to vertical pupils that constricted as he focused on her. The cat was shorter than Ulmer, but taller than Lora. His two-toned, short fur was covered by a full body utility jumper and bound at the waist with a thick belt.

"Why are you so special?" he demanded, bringing his face close to Lora's. "None of you go further without me."

Envy had positioned himself at Lora's side, covertly poised to intervene. Ulmer made a move to break the cat away. The cat dropped a hand away and into the horses view, extending out claws from his thumbed paw.

"I'm Lora," she smiled. "What do I call you?"

The cat wrinkled his nose and broke off the intimidating posture. He leapt back against the tunnel wall, leaned back with arms crossed. "Gammon of Piush."

"I will call my clan!" Ulmer threatened.

"Well Gammon," Lora said warmly, cutting off the horse. "We are in a hurry, and there is no need for any problems. Join us."

Gammon smiled. "He wouldn't have called them anyway," he said, pushing off the wall and joining Lora. He rubbed his shoulder subtly into hers. "They would not like to hear what I know about this hoof."

Ulmer huffed and continued on.

"Is that so?" Lora said to her new friend.

"Oh, yes. He may be clan leader, but he can be quite underhanded. Underhoofed!"

"Watch yourself, cat. I will withdraw from our deal!"

Lora flashed a silly look at Gammon.

"Let me guess, he offered to introduce you to the Court out of pure goodness?" Gammon asked.

"It was easy to get him to take us..." Lora said, thinking back on her apparent good fortune.

"Oh, yes," Gammon said. "That is Ulmer. Always on the lookout to get on the Courts favorable side."

"Keep your slander to yourself!" Ulmer spat, reaching the end of the tunnel. A sloping solid wall of black metal met the group. The horse drew a small remote from a pocket and the top slid down, revealing fresh air and sunlight.

Having slight déjà vu from the similar reveal she had experienced entering the world, Lora was the last to step out on the surface of Piush. The topside was covered in moss-like vegetation. Thinking it would be delicate or crumbly, she was pleased to find the dark green matting to be tough and slightly springy. Even Envy's heavy base rolled across the surface with little destruction.

The topside of the city was generally deserted. An opulent cluster of plant people stood in a circle, off to Lora's left, arms extended in branched poses, soaking up the sun. Beyond, the edge of the city was not discernible; the ocean not seen, only detectable by smell and the knowledge they were afloat. Lora looked up into the sky, and the sun looked no different than before.

She hurried after the group, who were coming upon the crown of Piush, where the skylight capped the oblong dome. A walkway, inset into the roof, ringed the transparent material. The group skirted three quarters of the circumference, Ulmer's hooves clacking at half the cadence of his four legged ancestors. Envy and Gammon made no sound as they moved across the manufactured stone.

Ulmer halted and spun on his party. He seemed to straighten up as he spoke, attempting to assert authority. Lora saw that just beyond where he had stopped was a stairway leading down, away from the skylight.

"Woman, you will stand beside me and say nothing. Keep your machine behind you. Cat, you will stand next to Lora Clark. I will not mention you unless asked. If we are permitted to ascend to address the Court, I will take you to Chief Angas afterward."

"If this is a trick," Gammon said, twitching the tip of his tail back and forth, "it will be the last you pull as clan leader."

Ulmer snorted, flaring his nostrils at Gammon. He turned and walked down the white stone stairway.
Chapter 23

That night, the prisoner had terrible dreams. The nightmares were not sharp, or paralyzing, or full of strong emotion, rather they were constant and nagging. The scenes in his head were full of building dread and unending sorrow. Hyron felt alone, watching his mother and young siblings being controlled by an ominous shadow. The faces were nearly unrecognizable: black around the eyes and twisted in pain. Then there was his father. He was not with the rest. In the middle of a sea, his father was bound and forced from the deck of a greywood ship.

Hyron scrambled across the water. His father created no splash as he disappeared beneath the swells. In the deep, all was black, except the face he chased. Bloated and slack, the prisoner in the tower moaned in dismay. The body sunk deeper, and Hyron realized he was holding his breath. He could not dive any further after his father.

Right before the face left the light, it opened its eyes.

Hyron could take the slow torture no more, and opened his own.

He had screamed himself awake.

Blasting forth from the depths of the dark cell was a man Hyron had never seen before.

"You weak worm!" the older man shouted at the boy curled up on his bed.

Dawn had not yet broken, but the image of Renault was clear to Hyron.

"You cower there, just letting them keep your life from you!" He wore black pants, shin high boots and a sleeveless purple shirt. Exposed arms were full muscled and clearly defined. Straight crimson hair was raked back from a wrinkled brow, with the sidewalls clipped cleanly to the scalp.

Hyron was too confused to respond.

"Weak knees? More like weak will! You are pitiful!" he spit at the boy.

The fury transferred by the old, wrinkled face, was all Hyron could process. The tirade continued.

Renault threw up his hands. He broke off the direct assault. He took a slow lap around the cell, yelling with sustained rage. "You are squandering your youth, you fool! While that spoiled man-boy holds your mother and siblings as his play family, you do nothing! Have you not though of growing strong in your captivity?"

A lap completed, Renault turned back to Hyron and got into his face.

"I would strangle the fool and everyone who stood in my way!"

Hyron averted his eyes. Tears began to flow.

"He killed your father!" Renault screamed in Hyrons face.

Hyron remained in bed, sobbing in his blanket. Renault stood.

He growled at the cowering boy. "And he threw you away so you wouldn't rise against him. I don't know who is worse, this slimy Negus, or the spineless fool who rolls over for him."

It was silent again in the cell. Hyron half expected another outburst from the uninvited guest, but none came. When he finally looked up, he was once again alone.
Chapter 24

"Why do you wish to meet with the Chief?" Lora asked Gammon as they descended the stairs to the topside temple.

"Chief Angas is of the Brevvie," Gammon answered, and saw the confused face of Lora. "All deductive inquiry is performed by their order. I am not sponsored to work in an official capacity, therefore I ask questions on my own."

"A rogue scientist!" Lora said with a grin.

"'Scientist' has a taboo connotation to us," Gammon explained. "Deductive inquiry is pure and incorruptible. We are nothing like the Scientists."

"What is it that you study?" Lora asked. "Are you trying to be accepted to the Brevvie?"

The party had descended half the staircase. A courtyard of white stone was below them. In the center was a three sided black stone pillar, exactly like the kiosk inside the city. Strange flowered plants grew at each corner of the square.

"No, The Court sponsors the Brevvie. I enjoy independence. In fact, our deductions rarely follow parallel paths. I am attempting to go to Chief Angas with a disturbing finding."

"What is it?" Lora asked.

"It is very complex and a matter to only be discussed with him..." Gammon trailed off as they reached the temple.

Ulmer approached a pillar and placed his hand on the smooth black stone as Lora and Gammon positioned themselves. A face appeared; a shepherd dog with a look that even Lora could understand as hostile.

"You are not the Gatekeeper of the Court..." Ulmer said, surprised.

Patterns of lights in rings and pillars erupted from the white stone, bouncing around the group. Lora glanced around nervously as the bobbing lights grew in opacity and fervor. A high pitch whine picked up from the far left and seemed to pass overhead, as if in stereo. She looked to Envy and put up a hand. "Just wait this time..."

German shepherds appeared, circling the group. A black-blanket shepherd stepped forward; his face on the pillar now present in the fur.

"You are seized by authority of the Queen," the black-blanket growled.

"I am Ulmer, the leader of my clan! I came to request an audience with the Court! Why do you appear at the temple and seize us?"

"Are you deaf, horse? By order of the Queen, herself!" The shepherd barked, advancing with manacles.

The other dogs followed suit. As the creature roughly fettered Lora's wrists, he bared his teeth. "Put up a fight and we will tear you to pieces."

"What about this appliance, Sturmschar?" one of the shepherd's asked the black-blanket.

"Woman, will you contain your toy, or need we gag you?" the sturmschar asked Lora.

"You have nothing to worry from me, or the robot," Lora said, flexing her wrists in the heavy cuffs.

The sturmschar regarded her for a moment and nodded. He waved a five-fingered hand at Envy and a subordinate placed similar manacles on his metal wrists. The security dogs finished their arrest procedures and lined the prisoners up. The black-blanket sturmschar stood in front and touched the temple pillar.

"Gatekeeper, send us directly to the Queen. We are ready."

The green face on the kiosk nodded and the pad was activated as before.
Chapter 25

Once again, Lora could tell she was somewhere else. The air was quite different and she could feel her headache draining away. The temple pad, soaked in sunlight on the top of Piush, had sent them to a place much darker. They appeared before a great window, looking out over the planet. The green ocean and specks of dusty islands were topped by smears of white clouds.

"We are on a space station!" Lora breathed to Envy.

"Look there," Envy nodded, keeping his hands in place. "Those look to be keeping us in geostationary orbit."

Lora squinted against the glow of the planet below. She was barely able to make out the dark strands Envy had pointed out when the sturmschar barked.

"Turn! Kneel before the Queen!"

The security dogs stepped away from their prisoners as the group turned to face the dais, which overlooked the picture window. From a side archway, a procession moved slowly toward the throne. Made of wood and unstained, the grand chair looked out of place in the manufactured surroundings of the space station. Three old women stood before Lora's group. On either side of the woman standing in front of the throne were two draped in faded red serapes. The central figure wore a faded dark green serape and a necklace made of polished stone about her neck. All had grey hair, swept back from their foreheads, with dark roots. Across all three of the women's faces was a stripe of red paint, below the eyes but above the nose.

"I have brought you the foreigner and the party that assisted her, my Queen!" the sturmschar announced.

The green serape nodded, and sat in the throne.

"Is that the Queen?" Lora asked Ulmer.

His eyes went wide at the question, and a shout came from beside the throne.

"Silence outsider! One is forbidden to speak before a question is asked!" the red-serape on the right shouted.

Lora bowed, and spoke to the old woman on the throne, "Forgive me, Queen."

"Step forward, woman!" the left spoke.

Lora complied.

"Ulmer! As clan leader of the Perd, you sponsored a white woman to speak in our presence. We would assume she passed your scrutiny?" the right said.

"She claims to be an enemy of the Germans," Ulmer said. "And what she told me required my..."

"We know why you brought her!" the adorned woman on the throne said, interrupting Ulmer.

"You are nothing but an opportunist, Ulmer," the right spoke. "You and the Perd were just fortunate to come across her before I sent my shepherds to retrieve her."

"You monitor the kiosks!" Gammon said, leaving his place in the line.

A shepherd stepped forward and growled, but the cat was unflapped. He continued to approach the throne lazily.

"All terminal traffic, or only topics relevant to your tastes?" he asked, smoothly dodging attempts by the dogs to herd him backward.

"The Queen knows all that happens in the three cities!" the left spoke.

"But the inquiry by a foreigner of Aros was quick to be addressed," the right said.

"Well, then," Gammon flapped a hand. He stopped in front of the dais and ignored the three dogs hovering over him. "That matter means nothing to me. I never expected I would hold the audience of the Queen! I have a serious matter that has been ignored by your chief of the Brevvie. I came to convince him, but an audience with the Queen is much better."

Gammon kneeled before the old woman on the right and waited for approval. Both locked gazes on each other, and the woman on the throne spoke.

"Why do you look at her? I am the one you are to address, you insolent cat!"

"I know who is the true Queen," Gammon answered. He kept eyes on the woman in faded red. "Can we dispense with this ruse and come to the matter at hand? We are under attack!"

"Under attack how?" the true Queen said, switching places with the woman on the throne. She smiled wide; impressed she had been found out so easily.

"This is the third serious storm we have faced in the last solar cycle!" Gammon said, serious and unperterbed. "The Brevvie are deluding their art by ignoring the fact that despite our planets location, we are always in the path of these devastating emissions! It is no coincidence!"

"What is the answer you have come to?" the Queen asked, standing.

"As I have stated! We are under attack from something!"

"What is your name?" the Queen asked, looking away from Gammon.

Lora glanced around the faces in the room, realizing the Queen was speaking to her.

"I am Lora Clark, your Majesty."

"You will tell me everything you know about Aros, and why you have come looking for him. But first, we must go up to the upper reaches where preparations are being made. Together we will speak to Chief Angas."

Lora smiled and nodded.

The Queen turned toward the archway she entered from, leaving her right and left hand behind. She motioned to be followed, but told the shepherds to stay behind.

"Sturmschar! Accompany me! Ulmer, you may come or go. I care not."

The group split in two and Ulmer hurried to be in the departing company.

"It is my honor to accompany you, my Queen..." he said, but his words were lost in the bustle of movement.

The black-blanket shepherd took point, leading the group through smooth walled corridors. The Queen lead the main group, moving at a swift pace for a woman of her age. She was flanked by her two decoys, and followed by Ulmer, Gammon, and Lora. Envy tailed the group, but kept pace easily, even over the short staircases. The Sturmschar reached a recess in a wall and waved open a door that dropped away into the floor. Beyond was a glass sphere, supported by curving, black metal bones.

The procession entered and took seats on an inward facing circular couch that ringed the shuttle. Lora followed by example as the others naturally found their seats and strapped down. Retractable fleece blankets were drawn from the cushions and wrapped over laps. Envy stood at the entrance to the C-shaped couch, holding on to nothing. With everyone in place, the door rose, sealing them inside.

Lora craned her neck, examining the four evenly spaced booster rockets outside their bubble. The boosters were also sphere shaped and coated in glass, the inside mechanics visible. One of the Queens decoys spoke a word and the shuttle released from the station. There was a half of a moment without gravity before the rockets came to life, their thrust keeping the feet of the passengers on the deck. The fleece blankets they had covered themselves in became rigid, holding them to the couch, but remaining soft to the touch.

Lora was hit with a wave of queasiness that forced her to close her eyes as the shuttle came around to a maintainable direction. Head and stomach swimming, she looked up out of the glass bubble that was ferrying them through the heart of the space station. From what she saw, the structure was a mess of thick stone grey support pillars running long distances between large bodies that sometimes happened to meet, often at odd angles. Flying through the center of the station, she could see windows and lights that indicated inhabitants lived in most of the structure. The further they went to the sun-facing top of the station, the more it became apparent that the structure was built organically. The station design seemed to change, and since the aesthetic of an alien culture meant nothing to a woman from Earth, Lora did not recognize wear. Bleaching of the dark grey exterior by cosmic rays and tiny pockmarks from debris gave away the fact that the station was younger closer to the surface. The group traveled in silence to the older canopy, which appeared to be built first.

Instead of attaching to a dock on the side of the station, similar to the way they left the throne area, the glass bubble rotated again and dropped down into a recess in the canopy superstructure. The rockets stopped firing as they sunk below the surface and came to a smooth stop that was nearly indiscernible. Gravity returned and the blankets melted back into flaccid fabric. The door they entered, once again, slid into the floor.

The sturmschar leapt from his seat, helping the Queen to her feet as the others rose. Envy rotated like a sentry as the Queen swept past. Lora scrambled out of the couch and followed the old woman from the shuttle and into the canopy of the station.

The area they entered was quite different from the throne room they had transported into. The ceiling was much lower and everything was shiny black. Both the floor and ceiling seemed to be patterned with large square-like tiles. Inch wide strips lay around the panels. Big blocky consoles littered the deep and wide room, large display screens built into the walls. Only one spot had a window, and it was set into the floor at the center of the room.

The Queen and her shepherd crossed the room without pause, making their way to a black bird-headed figure standing on the transparent floor. He wore a tan jumpsuit with large shoulder pads. His head was all black with fine feathers, except for a white collar on the back of his neck. The bird was the only person on the canopy command deck standing idle. At the consoles, a wide variety of beings sat and stood, monitoring the path of the storm.

Envy swept up to Lora's side as she strode with wide steps to keep up.

"I suggest we let this game play out," Envy said in English.

"Like the pillar," Lora nodded. "I think I'm starting to get it."

A burst of movement from behind caught Lora's eye. Gammon had leapt up on Envy, catching a ride on the robot.

"No secrets," he rebuked the pair. "Tell me you know something?"

Lora made an honest face to the cat. "Nothing about this storm. Truly. Is that the Chief you wanted to see?"

"Angas," the Queen called, silencing the room. "Let us speak."

Gammon nodded to Lora and swung off the white robot

The black-eyed rook, turned his head sideways, a single eye darting to each person in the group approaching him.

"Our Queen," the Chief of the Brevvie. "This area is not the safest for one such as you, with the storm about to strike." He spoke with a gravely voice, his head bobbing and his neck puffing up as if it helped the words come out. The words seemed strange coming from the creature, enunciated perfectly despite the lack of lips and regular mouth movements used by most. Instead, the rook occasionally opened and closed his beak while his tongue performed gymnastics.

The Queen stood firm.

"In the last year, how many storms have we weathered?"

"Three in the last cycle alone," Chief Angas answered.

"And before that?"

"They have been sporadic. Maybe once a year," he answered again. "And so my staff has much experience in preparing Caj for storms like these. It is still dangerous work, so I beg of you, retreat to safety and let us protect our home."

"This cat has come to me and convinced me of a possibility you have never expressed."

Gammon took this as his cue and stepped up to the bird. "We are under attack and the solar storms are an attempt to breach our defenses."

"Our Queen, as your servant and defender of this majestic city, I implore you to remove this fool!"

"I have analyzed the frequency and power of all space weather in the last five years," Gammon said.

"This cat was rejected from the Brevvie several times!" Angas cawed.

"All my data pointed to increased output, a tighter storm path, and a building frequency," Gammon went on.

"He works independently with biased assumptions and comes to unfounded conclusions!" Angas said.

"The probability that our star is doing this naturally has dropped to an undeniable level," Gammon continued.

"The eruption is still on course. Six minutes until the first wave hits," a feline Brevvie announced to the room.

"We have not the time for this madness!" Chief Angas said, turning from the party and pacing away. He looked down at the glass floor, the orange sunlight bathing his black face. "And what if this is an attack? First wave a volley to lower our defenses? This station has survived every storm, with minor damage!"

"What about the surface?" Lora jumped in. "These storms have been killing crops and forcing the Freed to seek shelter in the protected city. Shouldn't you consider them?"

"How could we know for sure?" the Queen asked Gammon. She also looked to her chief of deductive inquiry.

"You have methods of protecting your technology so it does not need to be rebuilt, like on the surface?" Gammon asked.

The rook did not look at the cat, but answered his question.

"We have a small supply of a rare metal alloy with which we have shielded our critical systems. It is the only way to keep Caj afloat."

"Then we test my hypothesis. Should this be an attack, we allow it to come, eliminating their surprise factor," Gammon said. He danced around the room, as if speaking each point to the deciding heads. "If the yield and frequency of the storms have increased, what would an adversary gain? They wish to destroy our crops, temporarily immobilize large numbers of the Freed on Piush, and demoralize us. But we are not easily defeated.

"I say we spring their trap. Turn off the systems in the canopy, even the shielded ones, making it appear that the storm has destroyed them. Then, should the perpetrators reveal themselves, we switch back on and sort them out!"

"You wish to invite an attack?" Ulmer asked from the back.

Angas clucked at the cat. "Now everyone can see the radical ideas that preclude you from Brevvie membership."

"Will we suffer through endless barrages, and do nothing?" Gammon pleaded with the Queen. "Let us find out for all and at once, why disaster keeps befalling Daër Acte."

"The proposition is ridiculous. The Queen would never agree," Angas said. He held out his arms to usher the group away. "Now you must leave, as the storm can bring harmful particles..."

But the Queen did not move.

"Forgive me Chief Angas for this, but I must ignore your recommendations this time. If there is a way to end the storms, then we must," she commanded. "Make the preparations."

Without a pause, Chief Angas gave the order to the Brevvie, who had all stopped their work to watch the exchange. With his word, they all turned back to their stations.

The Queen crossed her arms and Angas moved to her side.

"We will switch off all systems two seconds after the storm begins. Are you resolute in remaining here with us? Should there be an attack, the canopy would be a prime target."

"I will wait."

"One minute," The feline Brevvie announced.

Everyone stood around, tense, other than Gammon. He walked over to Envy and sat on his tracked base, leaning against the robots trunk. Angas shot a look in the lounging cats' direction while he hovered over a tech at a monitor. Lora put both her hands on her head and paced the room.

"Twenty seconds."

"Shutters!" Angas commanded.

The room dimmed immediately as a cover retracted over the glass floor. The light quality took on a different hue as the orange light from the sun was replaced by cold and sterile artificial illumination.

"Optical systems down," a tech reported.

"Storm strike!"
Chapter 26

A day in seclusion is longer than a day in the life of anyone who is free. The lack of stimulating events to mark the hours creates a feeling of non-motion through time. Hyron, in his stone cell, high in the Tower of Cape, had few waypoints in his day. First meal, usually a bar type conglomerate, and last meal, a meatless stew, were the only events he had to look forward to.

The day that followed his neighbors' impossible, yet intrusive rant, Hyron stood at his window and watched the city beneath him. He watched soldiers training inside the walls, and change of the guard at the main gate and side entrance tunnel. In the city beyond, he could see carts moving to and from the market, some pulled by men, some by beasts. It was still grey and cold outside, with occasional sheets of mist blowing through the area. It was a dull affair, but more exciting than anything else had to offer.

Tired of standing on his feet to watch the sights, Hyron retreated to his wooden cot. He lay on his back and thought back to seeing Renault berate him in his cell. Was that a dream? He could not decide. On one hand, he felt awake, as awake as he was now. But on the other, there was no way he could have had a visitor in his cell. Unless there was some collusion between the gaolers and the crimson-haired man...

Hyron rolled off the cot and went to all fours on the worn wooden planks of the floor. Renault had advised him to stay strong or the tower would kill him. Hyron had never been one for strength training. He remembered going home from his first busy day at the potters, how his arms ached from the endless wheelwork.

Unsure of how to proceed, the young prisoner lay prone and attempted to lift his body up with his arms. He stuck his bottom up as he strained, pointy elbows splayed out, worming up to full extension. He let out a puffed breath and started to do a second repetition. Halfway into lowering himself, his arms gave out and he collapsed to the ground. Frustrated at the effort required, he rolled over and crossed his arms, done with the silly idea.

Was that really his neighbor in his cell last night? Hyron was obsessed with knowing which was the reality. He stood back up and put his forehead against the window bars. The city had not changed in his brief absence. He doubted it ever would. The grey, soggy day passed without much indication of duration. Hyron drifted.

He heard the wet, hacking cough from the cell to his right.

"Renault?" he called softly into the wind.

Nothing.

Hyron climbed down from his perch and knelt against their shared wall. He called his neighbors name again, this time with more concerned conviction. As he awaited a response, he felt along the stacked stone wall. The tower was not constructed like most stone houses in the land. The walls of this castle were made with precision cut grey stone. How the builders had made such clean lines was a wonder to all who visited the tower.

And as Hyron searched for a crack that might be big enough to peer through, he put hands on each stone. There were few imperfections in the dense rock except in the base of one stone. Lying on his belly, the prisoner attempted to see through a hole that was no larger than his finger. There was a faint light coming from the other side...

Fingers resting on the block, Hyron moved to shout through the hole when the stone moved inward, imperceptibly. Taken aback, he sat upright and gave the block a real push. Again, it moved, but only slightly more than the time previous. On his knees, the boy put his modest weight into the block, but this time, there was no movement.

An idea struck.

Hyron stuck is middle finger in the hole and found he could hook it upward, palm up. He grasped his wrist with opposite hand and pulled with all his might. Gently, the stone slid out of its slot in the wall. The colossal weight of it dropped into his lap, round wooden dowels rolling out and clattering to the floor.

He rolled the square stone block off his lap and placed it softly to the floor, wary to give away his activity to the gaolers. The inside of the hole resembled the half he had removed on his side. The once single block had been split and the bottom corner removed. The wooden dowels had been put in place so the stone would roll when pulled with a finger.

After a moment to ponder the workings of this hidden passthrough, Hyron came to the conclusion that without someone to pull the other side, he would have to push the block out. And without someone on the other side, the block would fall a foot and a half to the ground, making a noise. The wet cough came again. Hyron knew he had to take this gamble, even if it meant tipping off the gaolers to this new secret.

He pushed. The block rolled a little. He pushed again, hoping the warning would be enough for Renault to do something about the falling block. Taking a deep breath, Hyron pushed some more. The block fell away unexpectedly. As he felt the stone move on its own, he tensed and waited for the thud. But none came.

The passage was open. The cell next to his looked the same as his own, except for more things. This cell had been occupied far longer than his own. There were shelves with trinkets, more than one wooden bench/bed, and paper pinned to walls. At the window, a trio of sun catchers hung in the grey afternoon light.

Hyron looked down and saw that the stone block had fallen on a round sitting pillow. Climbing through, he searched the room for his neighbor. Huddled in the darkness, wrapped in a quilt, came a weak cough. Hyron crept over.

"Renault?" he whispered.

Hyron stood nearly paralyzed, watching the labored breathing from under the blanket. Gaining courage over time, he pealed back a flap, exposing the face beneath. Renault was old, and frail; nothing like the man who had come to him in his cell.

Except for the face.

The face was familiar. The hair still had some crimson mixed with the wiry grey. Hyron was transfixed.

"Usually," croaked Renault, "I would scold someone for this sort of invasion."

Hyron jumped back, startled by the response.

"But," Renault continued, pushing back the flap over his face and opening his eyes, "I am the worse offender in all the worlds." He coughed again.

Hyron sat in front of the wooden cot. He starred at the man who kept his eyes closed. He could smell the stench of too much time spent locked in a cell. Renaults breathing was labored. Hyron could hear the fluid rattling around deep in the old man's lungs.

"How long have you been sick?"

"That's not the question, boy!" Renault tried to sound forceful, but the effort brought on another hacking fit. Once it cleared, he tried again, "You found that old hole and opened it to find out more than how long I've had this little cough? Tell me why you really came over here."

Hyron frowned and looked at the cell door. He bit his lip and asked his question without looking at Renault. "Did I really see you the other night? In my cell? In real clothes?"

"Like this?" a voice said from behind him.

Hyron turned suddenly, his back on the cot. Standing over him was Renault- the other Renault- the angry one, dressed in a green jacket, strong and healthy.

Hyron looked back at the ill man, and the other grinning at them both. Renault, unshaven and horizontal in the covers, grinned as well.

"It was... How is this possible?" Hyron stuttered.

"Our Lands are endless, and one of many," the projection of Renault said, pacing the cell. "When I was young, I went on a quest. This was my prize. But that was years ago..."

"Is that why you were imprisoned in the tower?"

"Why I rot here is inconsequential. In truth, my anchor had become too old and tired to remain one step ahead any longer. At least in here I am fed and dry. I can sit on my pillow," Renault said, his projection pointing to the round pad that cushioned the falling stone block, "and travel the worlds at my leisure. It's far from the worse I've been."

The image of Renault dissolved, leaving Hyron with the coughing old man.

"You can travel outside of the tower, but you are trapped in here?" Hyron asked, confused.

"Incorporeal projection. I can project myself anywhere I choose," Renault said.

"You can walk among the market or the theater?"

"Bigger," Renault prodded, flaring his eyes. "Think bigger."

"Other cities? Other countries?"

"The universe," Renault said back. "The only limit is my imagination."

"The stars at night?"

Renault laughed. "In a way. Our stars we see at night are an illusion. Our world is flat and endless. The stars we see are a facade. But in other dimensions, worlds have stars you can travel among."

Hyron shook his head as if in denial, but smiled, unconvinced. "How can our stars be fake but others exist? I would say you have gone mad, but I've seen two of you.

"It may seem that I am free, but you must never forget that we are not. As long as we are held against our will, even with the ability to see, and hear, and speak, and travel, we are prisoners. I've succumbed to captivity, but I am old. You are just a boy."

"But it sounds like... If you can explore... If you can be two places at once... Then the tower is not so bad for you."

The projection of Renault appeared behind Hyron once again.

"Give me your hand, let me help you up," he said to the boy.

Hyron moved to comply. He stretched out his hand and began to shift his body weight. But, his hand sunk right through the standing figure.

"Incorporeal means I cannot physically interact with the world. I am a projection. I cannot feel the world around me. I cannot move things. I cannot carry things. Eat. Smell. Touch. I am merely an image that can speak, hear, and see."

Again, Renault ended his projection.

Hyron sat silent.

"I've learned much. It has kept me entertained while in this room. But it leaves an itch that only a physical body can dispel. Even with the feeling of hollowness that the projected state has, it has a powerful effect on the mind. It is easy to spend endless hours touring the worlds, becoming embroiled in compelling events. But when these events will never have any real relevance upon my physical existence, they become fruitless endeavors. Using my ability has gotten me into trouble several times throughout my life.

"As much as I was warned about the down side of this gift, and instructed against acting foolishly, I have been a poor practitioner. Inconsistent at best..."

Hyron sat without a word. Renault studied him, noticing the far off look in his eyes. The decision was monumental, but the old man made it with the ease of slipping off a jacket.

"Get out," he croaked. "Come back tomorrow. I need my rest."

Hyrons trance was broken. "I'm confused... Did I do something wrong?"

"Go. I need rest. See me tomorrow after breakfast. And put the wall back the way you found it."

Hyron blinked, but complied. He struggled with the stones, but after a great effort, both prisoners were back in their cells, alone with only their own thoughts.
Chapter 27

The roar of static was immense. It came in waves, fast moving clouds of negatively charged electrons and protons, surging with electricity ripped into the magnetic field. Plasma pounded away at the top of Caj. All were silent in the canopy as the stations systems shut off and there was nothing left to monitor.

Ulmer was wide eyed and on the verge of spooking. "What about the air? Did you have to disable that as well?"

"There is plenty to sustain us until this storm passes. It was not forecasted to last more than thirty five minutes," Angas said.

Far in the back of the room, a loud pop and fizzle caused a trio of Brevvie to retreat. Tension in the room was thick as the storm whipped and droned. Lora began to look around the great room, noticing side doors she had not registered before.

The Queen stepped up in front of Lora's wondering gaze and caught her eye. She was a head shorter than Lora, but gave off the impression of being much more imposing than she was. "The time has come Lora Clark. You will reveal what you know about the man Aros and why you have come looking for him."

"I heard a story about him, and how he had been to many different places. I have to find him if I am to let my children live in peace."

"You have children?" the Queen asked.

"I may look young, but I'm not. I have children and worked hard to shape the world I live in for them. But I must solidify that world and Aros is the only person who may have the answers I need."

"Answers to what?"

"Perhaps he knows a way to break a curse that I have on me. I don't know how I picked it up, or why I deserved it. But hearing of Aros was the first time in a long time that I had hope. I may have the years, but it sounds like he has been far and wide. Maybe that distance is better than just existing..." Lora trailed off.

The Queen picked up where Lora left off.

"Aros first appeared when I had become a woman, and my father had rid us of the Germans. I was taken with him the first time I saw him. He was straight backed and tall. He spoke to my father in his native tongue; speaking more smooth than I can today. Now those words are all but forgotten.

"Aros went on a quest for my father, in exchange for using the old gate. My father would have lent him use of it, but the task was done too well. My father had no other men who could match Aros's skill. And I wanted him, so I convinced my father to keep him. I believe that all it would take was time to make him want to stay at my side when it was my time to rule. I wanted our blood to mix. Should our children have been half as strong as he was, Daër Acte would never again be taken advantage of.

"That was my dream for us, but he was not to be caged. He played along for a moment, and then left as soon as we turned our back. He returned once, years later, after I was past my child-bearing years. He had aged much less than I. Perhaps it is in his blood, or perhaps his travels have brought him to a place where he can renew his youth. Now, that is a secret I could use."

"You said he used an old gate. Not like the transfer pads you have now?" Lora asked.

"Much of this world is a mystery. A great deal was here when my people arrived, generations ago. We used the things we found. We built and rebuilt. Then, the Germans came. At the beginning, they were honorable and helped us. This city was nothing but ruins. With their help it came to thrive again. But, then they created the Freed, and treated them as beasts. With our brown skin, we were not much better in their eyes.

"But that is not the story. The old gate was here, in the city, before we rebuilt."

"And it works?"

"We do not use it, but I believe it may. It requires..."

"The storm is ending!" Angas announced to the room.

"Thank the guiding hand!" Ulmer muttered to himself.

The static subsided, leaving an odd silence. A pinging popped off at regular intervals and the Brevvie began to nervously whisper around the darkened room.

"Manually open the shutters!" their chief ordered.

A scampering of technicians and moment later, orange light began to cascade up from the floor. As the light grew in intensity, the rook paced over the window, peering in every direction. At last, he stood tall and looked to the orange cat.

"How long should we wait to confirm that your position was in fact, the wrong one?"

"It has been merely an instant," Gammon sneered.

"Concede the point, amateur. All this was in vain. And what is more, we have lost critical measurements to add to our statistical models, due to your foolish request to restart our equipment!"

"A reasonable amount of time has not yet passed!" Gammon pleaded.

"Nothing will satisfy a warped reasoning," Angas calmly stated. With every passing moment, the Chief of the Brevvie became more confident in his reasoning. He turned to the Queen and half bowed.

"I am happy to have eliminated the possibility of a directed attack, but now I request to resume the task at hand, without further intervention by those less qualified."

The Queen nodded, a blank face betraying no emotion.

"Restart Caj!" Angas commanded.

A buzz rose in the canopy as Brevvie returned to duties and machines came back to life. Stations began to speak back and forth as restart procedures were followed. The Queen looked on at her workers with feigned interest as she waited for an opportunity to leave. Ulmer, Lora, and Envy stood awkwardly as everyone went about important tasks around them. Gammon was pacing.

"All signs pointed to an outside force," the cat brooded to himself.

The Queen turned and opened he mouth to speak, but was stopped by a flickering in the lights.

A heart beat later, an alarm began to sound, but was silenced after one blast. Voices in the canopy rose as console operators began to speak up, reporting system failures. Chief Angas began to zip around hurriedly, shouting commands at his subordinates.

Lora furrowed her brow and turned to a side room. She felt a cold wind blow from beyond the threshold, the spot holding her full attention as the man walked through.

The Queen gasped, and shouted for her security.

The black-blanketed sturmschar keyed a device at his shoulder and took off toward the light skinned man who was marching boldly into the room. The shepherd's teeth were barred and the furious bark of his ancestors leapt from his throat.

"That appears to be a military uniform," Envy said, moving into a blocking position in front of Lora.

As the shepherd swept across the room to attack the tall blond officer, Lora noticed a slender young Asian man trailing close behind, head down, tapping away at an oversized wrist mounted screen. Paying almost no attention, the Asian man popped his head up at the Germans' prompting. A half a second later, the sturmschar was suddenly halted. He crashed headlong into a narrow strip of glass wall that simultaneously dropped from the ceiling and rose from the floor, meeting in the middle. He fell back to sitting, stunned, when three more walls formed around him, trapping him in place. The invaders strolled past the lone security, without a second look.

The Brevvie, thinkers and scientists, remained frozen in their seats as a legendary monster from history strolled into their secure world. The Queen shouted to anyone who could comply to call for more security.

"Please," the German said, putting a hand up as he walked up to the queen's party, "We have taken control of all systems. The command deck is now sealed and there is no help on the way."

"I am not security, but I can handle this small man!" Ulmer said, walking toward the Officer who stood five paces from the Queen.

"Uy," the German said to his partner.

Uy nodded, no looking up from his computer. A glass wall clapped together around the pair before the grey horse could reach them.

"I am Heinrich Klinge, Oberst of the NeuHeer. I have come to reclaim this orbital station in the name of those it was stolen from."

Ulmer was undeterred by the second use of the containment wall. He bellowed out a neigh, beaming over the chance to prove his worth in front of the Queen. He turned his back to the glass wall and let loose a powerful kick. The solid hoof on the end of Ulmer strong leg made a splitting sound when it connected with the glass. The result of the kick left the beginning of a crack in the sturdy glass.

Ulmer let out a triumphant snort and prepared for a second kick.

In lightning fast response, Uy retracted the top glass of the wall and Oberst Klinge drew his sidearm.

The shot was defining, and Lora ducked behind Envy, eyes squeezed shut. The room erupted in screams as Ulmer hit the ground, motionless. Lora pushed back against the strongest sense of déjà vous, as the German officer stood over her with pistol leveled on the place of its last discharge. The smell of burnt carbon reached her nose. She clenched her fists, expecting to pull dirt into them, but only slipping over metal. This was not then.

Klinge holstered his sidearm, and continued his speech as he walked around the fresh body, glass walls moving with him.

"Please, no more of that. I hold all the advantages here. My predecessors designed the technology here in the Planet Perch. Therefore, I alone will prove to the rest of the NeuHeer that retaking this city from you beasts is a simple task."

"The solar storms were your doing?" Chief Angas asked, stepping forward without fear.

"Yes, with each test, we were able to refine the technique. I had bet my career on the knowledge that eventually, the eruptions would take down your defenses and we could return to what was taken from us."

Uy tapped his superior on the shoulder and the sound in the glass chamber cut off while he spoke. Concluding the exchange, Oberst Klige reactivated the sound.

"I see you savages have toyed with our technology," Klinge said to the Queen. "No matter. The critical back doors are still in place. It is only a matter of minutes until I am able to send a message and open the transport plates to receive a force of armed NeuHeer. Now is the time to negotiate with your new overlords."

"Not all technology here is of your design!" Lora said, rising to her feet.

At that, Envy shot forward. His arms extended and fingers retracted. Like a drum roll on a snare drum, the reprogrammed war robot fired bullets. Twelve pinpoint cracks starred on a glass wall, in an odd pattern.

Klige folded his arms as Envy stopped in front of the glass. Envy cocked his left arm with elbow bent at ninety degrees, turned his upper body, and released all his power on the glass.

The wall shattered and Envy punched the smug German officer in the throat with one motion. He crumpled to the floor. Slowly reaching in, Envy grabbed Uy by the lapels of his dark grey uniform and removed him from the broken glass box. The slight man squirmed, and began to slide out of his over-garments. But before that could happen, Envy dropped him to the floor, hunching over the collapsed man. Envy spoke a phrase in Japanese, then grabbed the computer at Uy's wrist. He did not resist.

A jointed transmitter popped out of the side of the robots flat-faced head, and beamed a red laser directly at the screen of Uy's device. The sounds of Klige groaning prompted the movement of the stunned group. Lora ran over to the smashed panel and peaked in on the attempted conquer.

"He's getting back up," She warned Envy.

"Understood," Envy replied, and backing away from the glass, and dragging Uy with him. "Stand back, Lora."

More security walls came together, further encircling Klige. At the same time, the walls around the Queen's security shepherd, retracted. Lora looked to the Queen, who had shrunk back away from the action, and nodded. The Queen gave a timid smile.

In a startling, sudden action, Envy dropped the invading technicians' arm and stood upright. The robot opened his palms and extended his fingers, ejecting the spent shell casings. He then turned to Chief Angas, returning to his standard posture.

"Control of all systems has been returned. I have disabled this particular device, but I suspect the method of access is still viable. You will want to correct that."
Chapter 28

From outside the Caj control deck, a flood of security personnel rushed in. They took up position around the intruders. The Queens' body doubles also appeared, surrounding themselves with clusters of security to further confuse onlookers. The canopy was alive with activity, and even more so with the recent passing of two serious storms.

Lora knelt over Ulmer, nearly forgotten in all the confusion. Lora wiped tears from her eyes as Envy rolled up beside her. "Was this our fault?" she asked the robot.

"We would not have made it to the city before the storm, if it was not for the help of Ulmer," Envy answered. "But the addition of Gammon to the party brought us to this deck and allowed the intruders access to the station through the old gate. While we had a part in this outcome, we are not fully to blame for the creatures death."

Lora put both hands on the horse. "I can't do anything about this," she sobbed.

"Every night I run over a list of people I've known. I've memorized over a hundred names. I do it so that on my next pass, I take care of them. But now... this might be it! I may not go around again."

The last statement hung in the air for a moment. Lora wiped away her tears. A pair of men, Amazonians rather than Freed, arrived with a stretcher and began to load Ulmer. Lora sat on her legs for a moment longer, then rose. The Queen joined her side.

"The loss of the grey is terrible. He will be remembered and his clan praised for what he did here, in defense of Caj and Daër Acte. Now, perhaps, we can be free from attack from an unseen enemy. We will keep the German and his scientist, and find out all they know."

Lora nodded.

"Thanks to you is also in order," The Queen added. "If not for you and your machine, we might have suffered a worse fate."

"He came through the old gate?" Lora asked.

"Restarting the systems must have returned power to the gate, and allowed them to return. It follows that the old gate was the path the Germans took when escaping our revolt. Perhaps the builders of Caj had traveled further, beyond Daër Acte. No one has ever returned from using that gate, other than Aros and these two."

"Aros. Back from the quest your father sent him on?"

"Yes."

"The quest your father promised would earn him the right to use the gate as he wanted?"

The Queen nodded reluctantly.

"The quest your father did not think he would return from? But he did. And found arrest waiting for him," Lora said.

There was a silence between the two women. Lora nodded and spoke.

"Well, it seems we have also proven ourselves with a monumental task in your favor. In return, I demand use of the old gate. Same as Aros."

"I am not like my father, and older now. I will give you freely that which you request," The Queen smiled slyly. "Do you wish to leave now, or enjoy Caj a bit longer?"

"I am ready."

"For the best then," the Queen answered. She motioned her hand in the air and Chief Angas rushed to her side.

"Take our guest to the old gate. She is free to go wherever she chooses."

Lora stood before the dark tile wall, staring off into oblivion. She was lost in her own thoughts as she waited for the return of Envy and Chief Angas. The head of the Queens security, the black blanket shepherd, stood in the low ceilinged side room watching over Lora.

Her thoughts broke and she found herself startled by the silence. She turned suddenly aware of the sturmschar's presence, and nodded to the silent sentry. She smiled, embarrassed, and turned back to the gate. But an urge overtook her.

"You are so silent. Don't you ever have anything to say?" she asked the shepherd.

"No. It's not my place."

"What do you think of all this? Everything that just happened? The Queen allowing us use of the gate?"

"The decisions are not mine to make. My agreement would make no difference in the matter. I only wish you would leave and not return. Every time a foreigner visits us, bad things happen."

"That is understandable," Lora conceded. "What about the Queen? Why do you serve her so fiercely? I would expect the Freed to view all humans as untrustworthy."

"We are just as much human as the Court of Orranis. We were oppressed right along with them. They treat us as equals. While we look different on the outside, all on Daër Acte are one. We do not tolerate oppression or slothfulness. The Queen is the fairest being I have ever encountered. You may not see that from your short time with her. But, it is so."

"She seemed like most monarchs I have encountered..." Lora began. But the silent shepherd interrupted, which was so uncharacteristic, it was startling.

"Most of that was a show to an outsider. An unknown, possibly German, woman arrives and begins asking questions? Of course our actions would be other than usual."

"I suppose you are right."

Lora wanted to ask another question of her escort, but Angas and Envy returned before her question could be fully formed in her mind.

"All set?" she asked Envy.

"I have gathered supplies," the robot said, pointing to the addition of a pack now strapped to his back. "I have also ascertained the calibration of the gate controls that were used when Aros last used this device."

Angas fiddled with a pedestal to the left of the black tiled wall, bringing the gate online. The air in front of the wall shimmered, cracked, and hummed to life. Lora took a step back, next to Envy, when the intensity of the gate turned on to full. The tiles seemed to jump in place, occasionally making huge temporary shifts, then returning to their place. As the power buildup reached its zenith, a pink ball of light formed a short distance from the wall. The first ball of pink light grew in size, while secondary balls formed, becoming engulfed in the primary. Wind whipped and swirled, the high frequency noise of the gate growing along with he ball.

Angas flapped a black hand at the pair, urging them to go. Lora turned back to the shepherd, who lifted his mussel upward and barked three times. With her hair whipping all across her face, Lora jumped on Envy's back, her chest hitting the new supply pack. She held on while the robot rolled into the old gate of Daër Acte.
Chapter 29

The sound of stone scraping on stone made Hyron wince. In millimeter bursts, he rolled the stone, attempting to be as quiet as possible. Just when he thought he had gone far enough, a voice made him jump.

"Just push the damn thing!" Renault shouted from behind him.

The involuntary reaction to the unexpected noise pushed the block the rest of the way out, plopping down onto the pillow.

After the dust settled and the chuckling Renault disappeared, Hyron sighed. Unwound, he crawled through the wall.

This time, Renault was still on his bed, sitting up against the wall, rather than huddled flat. He looked pale and disheveled, but was grinning, nonetheless. "The guards hear nothing. We are at the end of the corridor, and of little concern to them."

As Hyron sat himself in front of the old man, he noticed the wooden platter by the door.

"You get something other than the block of grains for breakfast?"

"The guards up here call me the ghost. They appease me with better food stop haunting them through the night. At first, they tried beating me. But they finally gave in. They could care less about shouting coming from the end of the corridor."

The boy nodded, "The blocks are terrible."

For a moment, they sat in silence, no hurry in a realm beyond time.

"Are you going to instruct me on how to become strong?" Hyron asked, unable to look at Renault until the question was out.

"I've known nothing about becoming physically powerful," Renault said, "I have just always been such. Until I came to haunt this tower, that is."

Hyron lowered his eyes in disappointment.

"But what I can do is far better..."

Hyron looked up.

Renault's outstretched hand was wrinkled. Beneath the skin was only bone and veins. Blood bruises and dark freckles stood out sharply. A clenched fist opened. In the middle of the palm was a small stone with such drastic contrast to the jaundiced skin that it became the center of Hyrons universe.

"Take it," Renault whispered. "I'm done with it. It is yours now."

Hyron obeyed. He plucked pea sized blue pebble from the old man and felt a wave of lightheadedness wash over him. Holding the shard of power between his thumb and forefinger he asked Renault, "Is this what gives you your power?"

"It was my gift; my reward. Are you ready to use it?"

"Yes...?" he said. "Yes," he nodded.

"Go get the pillow. You do not want to sit there on the floor."

Hyron scrambled to the pass-through and rolled the half block off the sitting pillow. Hyron dragged it to the center of the room and sat, facing his benefactor. A breeze from the window swept through his oversized tunic. He crossed his legs and rested his left hand, which held the blue stone, on his knee. He took a deep breath and nodded.

"Close your eyes. It will work better that way. I have opened mine and been able to see both, but it is a stretch on your mind. Good. Now, you are going to picture somewhere you know. Not your old home, or somewhere someone will immediately recognize you..."

"Like the market?" Hyron cut in.

"Sure. Picture a place in the market. Imagine a view. See the people moving back and forth. Hear the squeaking wheels of the carts. Listen to the voices of the sellers bartering with shoppers."

Hyron sat, concentration filled his face.

"Just see! Use only your eyes and ears! Do not put yourself in the scene!" Renault cautioned. "The sudden appearance of a boy out of thin air will attract attention. You must scout the area and make sure you have a place to manifest in seclusion."

Behind Hyron's eyes was only black as he listened to Renaults voice. Starbursts of blue faded to orange as he squeezed his lids tight and tried to picture the market. There was a corner that first came to mind. He imagined a view from the middle of the busy street that split off into two directions. In the blackness of his field of vision, Hyron felt himself detach from his vantage point and float forward, through the holes in his scull into the darkness. The further he went, the brighter it became.

The sounds of the market erupted all around him. The high buzz of conversation. The rustling of goods. He was in the fruit district. The bright colors of the exotic foods assaulted his vision. After a week in the perpetual grey of the tower, vibrant greens, yellows, oranges, and reds were more colorful than they had ever been. People swelled all about him as he fought to only see and hear as Renault instructed.

A pair of times, Hyron slipped. Flickers of his body escaped, forming around is vantage point, but only for a moment. The boy redoubled his concentration as market-goers blinked away the phantom vision they had mistakenly seen. Feeling increasingly confident, Hyron swiveled his head around to examine the area.

"I made it," he said aloud, both in the Tower of Cape and the city market.

The ownerless words went unnoticed in one place, and were acknowledged in another. "Unseen is your default. Make it your refuge, like a turtle escaping into its shell. Now, I want you to move. Find an unobtrusive place to manifest."

Hyron eyed a doorway in one of the stone buildings lining the way. Willing his vision to move, he floated. To move in this way felt so unlike walking, he wished to never walk again. A few feet past the threshold, a wooden stair went up to an open air walkway. Half way up the steps, he paused, a good field of view in either direction.

"I'm ready," he said, again in both places.

"Imagine yourself standing there," Renault instructed. "You can look however you like. Wear your finest clothes, or the rags they have you in now. Leave the smudges of prison on your face, or hide under theater makeup; the choice is yours."

The market would not be the place for his finest clothes, Hyron understood. Renault had stressed the idea of blending in, and so he did just that. Hyron pictured himself in his potters apprentice clothes. As he did this, halfway up the stairs on a market side street, a boy of fourteen appeared. He had on brown trousers and white work shirt, but unlike his true work clothes, these were new and free of wear. Without the dirt of captivity on his face, the boy looked nearly unrecognizable from the true version of himself currently in the tower.

Examining his new appearance, a woman holding a basket bustled down the stairs, heading for the street. She smiled at Hyron and shifted her load as she passed by him without incident. Hyron stood, thrilled by the encounter.

"Someone just walked past me and couldn't even tell!" he hissed to his master.

"Of course," Renault said in his ear. "Now go walk around, but be careful to not touch anything or anyone."

Hyron grinned, thrilled to be out of his cell. He bound down the stairs, no longer willing his vision to float along. He felt nearly at home in his projected body. He walked through the cobblestone streets, spinning and smiling, taking it all in. He danced and dodged around carts and clusters of people, careful to avoid contact. He experimented with touch, brushing his hand over bright colored gourds stacked in a cart. His fingers skimmed the surface, and sunk below the skin when dipped too low.

Hyron pulled his hand away, startled by the lack of sensation. The disconnect between what his eyes saw and fingers felt was jarring. He walked on, raising his face to the sky. But there was no pleasant sensation of cool wind or mist. Hyron shook off the lack of feeling and went on.

"Is it always like this?" Hyron asked, quietly in his projected form, full volume seated on his pillow. "I just walked past a spice seller and there was no aroma. I feel so detached."

"It's like that at first, but then it fades and becomes a dull ache you never can quite get rid of."

Hyron went back to looking at the sky as he walked. "And what about up there? If I can project myself anywhere, could I fly up into the air, like a bird? You said the stars were just a facade?"

Before Renault could answer, while Hyron was lost in his own thoughts, a passenger coach came sweeping down the street. The tubby, bearded driver shouted and swept an angry hand at the daydreaming boy meandering in his path. At the last second, the boy realized his mistake and the horses driving the coach moved to dodge the pedestrian, but only just.

The market looked on as the boy in the street fell backward under the wheels of the barreling carriage. As the driver finally brought his conveyance to a halt, a gaggle of concerned citizens ran to assist. The driver leapt down, joining the small crowd, only to be left puzzled by the lack of a victim. Scratching their heads and wrinkling their collective brow, the market-goers searched for the neatly dressed boy, but found nothing.
Chapter 30

"Like a turtle. Good," Renault said when Hyron opened his eyes with a jerk.

"That was amazing! For the first time in forever, I was free! And all from this little stone..." Hyron said, lifting up his palm to gaze at the blue gem.

A thought came to his mind and he lowered his hand. "Where do you keep something like this? Just in your pocket? Why don't you mount it on a ring or something?"

"Rings are easily identifiable as something of value. They can be stolen," he answered and coughed. "I once kept it on a simple string necklace. But even that will be taken when thrown in prison. So, as of late I have hid it in my mouth."

Hyron looked down at his new gift. "That's not so bad. But I think if I kept it in there all the time, I might accidentally swallow it."

A coughing fit overtook Renault. Once it passed, Hyron could see it had been brought on by laughter.

"Naturally, if the stone was inside me, it cannot be taken or lost."

Hyrons eyes went wide as he grimaced in disgust.

"I thought of other ways to hang on to it. I had it in mind to cut a small slit in my skin and sew the stone up. But honestly, it seemed unnecessary as long as I kept a low profile."

"I asked about flying," Hyron reminded, "before I came back. If I can imagine myself any way I choose, and go wherever I want, what is to stop me from making myself look like a wyvern and fly across the lands? Imagine the reactions of the lords and governors as a beast of magical design threatens their rule!"

Hyron became animated as he fell deeper into his idea.

"And if I can become a winged monster, why not a whole weyr of dragons? And I can speak from my projection! I can threaten destruction of the capital if you and I are not freed! What is to stop me!?"

Renault coughed, visibly unimpressed by the argument. He cleared his throat and began, "Why do you think I instructed you to manifest unseen? If people become wise to the fact that a ghost is running around, there will be a response. And when that is not enough, and you continue projecting wherever you choose, they will find you. The Negus has the finest trackers and warriors at his disposal. You will loose. Why do you think I am here? Men in the lands know of an untouchable specter. Bluffing never works on a large scale with players who have the might to back up their gambles. It is my fault that option is ruined."

"So no winged serpents?" Hyron asked.

"Fly all you want, but let no one see you. Keeping the gift as a personal blessing is the only way to maintain it. Despite what some may say, this gift is far from ordinary, and men would kill for it," Renault said. He took a break from speaking to stifle a cough and catch his breath.

"Besides! There is so much more out there than this silly city, or the realm of the Negus! You want to fly with a weyr of wyvern? There is a place! You can visit cities that extend up into the clouds or deep beneath the oceans! You can walk forests that have been untouched since creation! You can see beauty that men like us will never fully comprehend! All you have to do is learn of it, and go!"

"Go to the distant lands?"

"No, you fool! Further! Distant worlds! Up and down rungs of existence! Imagine the wisdom you could attain from fellow travelers! Go far enough, and you could even discover the nexus between worlds. I met a creature that told me it had used the nexus, but it could not find its way back as it is always shifting. I think that if I had ever found it, just once, I could project myself back to it, anytime I wished..."

"All I know is Cape and Merintill... I've taken a trip to the ocean once. How do I go to lands unimaginable if I've never left home?"

Renaults look of annoyance was unmistakable. "That's enough for the day. Give me back the stone. I don't want you leading a dragon assault on the capital while I sleep."

Hyrons attempt at a laugh fell flat. He handed over the stone, and began to retreat to the hole.

"Tomorrow. After supper. Take the day to meditate on all this."

Hyron nodded, feeling the unspoken rebuke. He returned to his side of the wall, placed the dowels and pulled the stone in place, leaving the old man to his solitude.
Chapter 31

Jonru finished the last miles on the road much more slowly than the first miles he had walked. Early in the morning, he had taken down and rolled his canvas tent, repacking his bag methodically, the way he had learned in his youth. A couple of fellow travelers had camped beside the road near him, for relative safety, no doubt, but had not risen by the time he left. It was common practice to camp near others on the road, in case of robbery. For Jonru, there was nothing he had worth taking. But what he carried was the most valuable thing on the road.

He started off, in cold boots, still stiff from the short night. The rounded edges of the gravel ground against dirt as he stamped along. Instead of stretching his neck or gazing at the countryside, Jonru clamped down and tucked his arms in close in an attempt to repel the wet chill. Behind an overcast sky, the sun rose over the horizon.

Winter months had gripped the busy city by the sea. Minimal effort was expended by residents in the hours before midday. Most shops were closed as Jonru wound through the city streets, making his way to the waterfront. In houses, lights warmed the stone buildings, but the streets were empty. The man with the pack passed a strip of buildings under construction. They all had a similar design and method of shaping, rather than traditional construction by inexperienced individuals out of necessity.

No doubt a new policy recommended by one of the Negus's chiefs, Jonru thought to himself.

Finally, he made it to the docks. The area was mainly deserted, but Jonru hunted up and down the wooden planks until he found what he knew he would. An old woman was sleeping, wrapped in a thick wool blanket, reclined in the back of a rowboat. He kicked the side of the boat and stood over the woman.

"I'm woke!" the old one croaked, eyes still closed.

"I need a ride across."

"Eh?"

"To Zernes! Take me across the water to Zernes."

The old boat woman opened one eye. "I heard ya! Well, lets go!"

Jonru scoffed and climbed down into the boat. The woman pealed the blanket off and went to the oars. She grunted again, thrusting a chin at her passenger.

Annoyed, Jonru grabbed the line and looped it off the dock cleat. With the boat free, they began to move across the water. Sitting in the stern, Jonru waited for the old woman to speed up as they cleared the docks, but she never did.

"This looks like an officers shore boat for a big navy ship," Jonru said to the oarswoman as she lazily dipped the blades.

"This'll cost ya 500 balt," she said.

Jonru nodded. A thought came to him. "That is round trip, right?"

"Oh no. Each way!"

"Come now! You will have little luck finding a passenger back at this time of day. My business will be short. Two-fifty for the return," Jonru said.

The woman spit, and sucked on her front teeth. She nodded and continued to pull.

Fish jumped. Waves slapped against the small boat. The sun continued to hide behind the low hanging clouds. A pair of sea birds streaked overhead, squawking loudly as they went.

Jonru stared over the head of the old woman as Fortress Zernes came into view. The rocky island towered over the water, a single color grey against the shifting light and dark clouds. The only construction that was not cut from the natural stone of the granite pinnacle was the large wooden gate, which was studded with rivets and striped with black steel. One hundred meters of gently sloping beach was the only way to access the island; no other mooring points or docks were built for such a place.

After an eternity, they reached the pebbly shore. The woman simply stopped moving as soon as the keel ground on the bottom. Rather than to argue with the woman any further, Jonru leaped over the side and dragged the boat up further on shore before grabbing his pack. He pulled a leather pouch on a drawstring from his tunic and dropped five small coins into the outstretched hands of the woman.

Jonru crunched up the deeply pebbled shore and approached the gates. He veered left to a window cut in beside the gate and banged on the gatekeepers shutter. A few moments later, there were sounds of a crossbar being removed and the shutter swung outward.

A soldier, draped in light brown leather armor, stood inside the gate room.

"Ho?"

"Glass shelf," Jonru said.

"Wut? Wut is that?"

"A special password, boy," Jonru scolded. "Are you new? Go look it up in the book."

The soldier glared at the older man and half closed the shutter. Jonru waited in silence. He looked down the shore to ensure his taxi had not left. Presently, the shutter swung back open.

"'Glass shelf,'" the soldier quoted back. "You are to take that door," he pointed to a reinforced door on the other side of the gate. "Up the stairs, the third exit, follow the hallway down. You are to wait in the room with the green door."

"Thank you, boy."

"You know not to go anywhere but that room, right? If you do, they won't be kind to you. Even with your password..."

"Not my first time, boy. But thank you for your concern," Jonru said, waving as he walked to the door opposite the gate room.

The stairway was narrow. The stone steps were slightly too tall, using more leg muscle than he was used too. He looped his hands under the pack straps and trudged up to the third small landing. Without a pause, he went inside, down the hall, and found the door painted green. Jonru paused in front of it. He glanced down the hallway at the red door at the end of the corridor. He took a breath and entered the room.

Light met him, unlike in the dark passageways leading to the green room. Wall lamps lit each of the four walls, as well as two small rectangular ports cut into the stone opposite the door. Inside there was a simple wooden table with four chairs, and a stack of pony kegs against the wall. A medium sized painting of a stream with mountains in the background decorated a wall. A set of pottery cups and pitcher sat in the middle of the table. Jonru unshouldered his pack and sat it in a chair. He stuck a pointer finger in the pitcher and tilted it toward him, finding it empty.

With no one to meet him, he sat and waited.

Jonru was jittery. He had provided information like this before, even been inside this fortress. He had been inside many different fortresses, in fact, but he was still anxious. Was it because what he was doing was wrong? No. He had decided that long ago. If not him, someone else would do the job. If someone was going to do the job, no matter what, then it might as well be him that benefited.

A long time passed. The novelty of the situation passed the point for anticipation to beguile him. He relaxed into a seat, with the painting to his back and door to his left. Jonru closed his eyes in the silence.

The door opened. Jonru opened his eyes, coming back to wakefulness without a movement. A man, about the same age as Jonru, entered the room. He had neatly clipped grey hair, and gold rimmed glasses. He was thick and fit for a man of his age, where Jonru was thin and wiry.

"Good morning," he said to Jonru as he unceremoniously entered and sat at the table, back to the open door. He leaned slightly forward and placed his forearms on the table, fists clenched and held slightly off the wood. "So you are SubWarden of the Tower of Cape?"

"That is right. I am Jonru DaOrg."

"I am Ossin. What have you brought for us today?"

"A prisoner has died."

"Fascinating," Ossin said without humor. "Why does that warrant contacting the Negus's special services?"

"Most prisoners placed in the upper reaches of the Tower of Cape are political," Jonru responded. "The death that I come about is Renault of Caast. He was a very special prisoner, indeed."

"As I don't know the name specifically, I assume he was placed there by Negus Braxilon," Ossin stated,

"That is the case," Jonru said. "But you probably have heard of him. He is the one they call the ghost. He would appear in figure wherever he desired. He could not touch anything, but he was there. He was dangerous, and did not approve of our former Negus's practices."

"This is still hardly worth your trip. But, all the same... I will enter his passing into record."

Ossin went to stand, but Jonru stretched out a hand.

"Wait! I know that an official notice of death would have been much simpler than my walking twenty wheels and wasting your morning!" Jonru said. "I am your spy in the Tower for a reason."

"Go ahead," Ossin said, relaxing.

"I suspect another prisoner has taken on the old man's ability."

Ossin raised an eyebrow.

"The other prisoner is a boy. Placed there by our exulted Negus Vabrin, only just recently."

Ossin narrowed his eyes, "The WoExperitees boy?"

Jonru nodded. "Their cells were adjacent. On the day of his death, a gaoler I had never seen before approached me on my way to my office. He told me he thought he smelled rotting flesh from the top of the tower. I was caught off guard, and before I could question him, he turned from me and walked away. I started to chase after him, but he rounded a corner. When I pursued, he was gone. Into thin air!

"As SubWarden, I would never be the one to ascend the tower and do a prisoner check. But I did, taking the floor commander with me. When we opened the cell of the old man, we found him freshly dead; still stiff and not yet beginning to smell.

'The last cell, I had to check, I merely slid open the porthole, and peered in. The boy sat on his bunk, knees to his chest and head down. He peeked up at me and I saw. The eyes were the same. That boy somehow came down and told the highest ranking official he could find that his neighbor had passed."

Ossin sat for a moment, digesting the story.

"And you have not seen any other sightings of apparitions?"

"No. But perhaps the boy has learned from the mistakes of Renault. Did not Negus Braxilon hunt the man from Castt down and locked him away for that exact reason?"

Ossin stood. "You take me wrong. I agree this is information of the highest concern. The Negus will not want unchecked power on the loose again, especially in the hands of that boy. The Negus is on a tour of the war-affected lands to the Northwest. We will confer with him on the fate of the boy. In the mean time, prepare for us to retrieve him. I want him guarded and beat at any signs of suspect behavior.

"You are to oversee this handover personally, SubWarden. We will send official word as soon as it is spoken," Ossin concluded.

Jonru nodded and stood as Ossin left the room as quickly as he had entered. Jonru blinked several times once he found himself alone, not realizing the short conversation had left his eyes dry. He took a deep breath and grabbed his pack. He replayed the exchange in his head, making sure he didn't forget anything of substance. Before he knew it, he was out in the dull sunshine of the fortress beach, crunching along the gravel. More ships were now on the beach, heavily clothed men unloading goods to be brought through the main gate, which now stood open. Jonru scanned the beach as he neared the water.

The old woman in the officers dingy was nowhere to be found.
Chapter 32

A gentle breeze washed through the patio area as the bar and restaurant staff bustled about their opening tasks. The rustle of palm-thatched roofing was barely heard above the dull rumble of the ocean in the background. The sky was overcast and the air humid, but smelling sweet as it always did.

At the bar, back to the water, an older couple sat, dressed for travel. Battered suitcases sat beside their tall barstool chairs on the brown tile floor. They spoke back and forth in quiet voices, as if not to disturb anyone else in the empty restaurant.

An older man, loose fitting floral shirt and slacks walked in, informally saluting the staff. Using a decorative wooden cane, he sauntered over to a large round table, adjacent to the bar.

"Hey, Rod," a young server said, zipping up to the table with a mug and pot of coffee. She unceremoniously placed the mug and poured, leaving as quickly as she came.

Rod opened a newspaper he brought, leaned back in his chair, and sipped at his coffee. Interacting with no one on particular, he guffed at the paper he was reading, shook it once and put it down on the table.

"Can you believe this? What is going on around here lately?" he said aloud, this time aiming his comments at the similarly aged man at the bar.

"Huh?" he grunted, turning to face Rod.

"Ehh! Just all this stuff in the paper. Are you not from down here?"

"We are seasonal."

"Seasonal? Can't fault you for that! What, are you going back early? It's still the middle of winter up there..."

"Milton has to go back for a doctors appointment," the woman said.

"Ah, yeah, well good luck with the journey. Flying to the Waystation?"

"Well, there is no flying into the City in the winter," Milton chuckled. "And taking the train the whole way north takes far to long."

"Oh no! Here comes trouble!" Rod said. "This place is about to get lively."

Two more men came walking into the restaurant. One was the median age of the current patrons, and one appeared to be younger. The younger man was taller, with a large frame, but flabby. He had long, straight, blond hair, but if you looked closely at his roots, you could see the color beginning to shift to grey. He wore round glasses and a smooth shaven face. The older man had darker skin, a light jacket despite the pleasant temperature, and neatly combed pure-white beard and hair.

The two shuffled in and joined the round table.

"No Don?" the taller man asked.

"Not yet, not yet!" Rod said. He turned to Milton to explain.

"A bunch of us get together every morning before this place gets busy," Rod said. He looked to his group, "Fellas, this is Milton and..."

"I'm Dianne."

"Milton and Dianne are headed back up for an appointment. This gangly lad is Jerry. He is originally from a farming district on the outskirts, but we don't hold it against him!" Rod said, letting loose a bray of laughter at his own joke. "And that's Bob. Bob's okay."

The others nodded.

A waitress came, bringing coffees for the newcomers. She placed a third mug, unfilled at an empty seat. "I'll bring you some cream out in just a moment, Jerry."

"Thanks, Sweetie."

"Is ol' Rod infecting you with his silly ideas? It's from all the grass he smokes." Jerry said flatly.

"Ha! Is that so?" Milton said, loosening up in the new group dynamic.

"He did vote for Cranger," Bob said in a quite voice.

"I'm a Jeannette party supporter, you see," he said to Milton and Dianne. "These guys prefer a straight backed chair, but I'm friends with 'em anyways."

"What are you boys doing, telling lies?"

The final member of the panel arrived while the others were distracted, and took his seat. Don had jet black, thin hair, and wore a vest over his button-up shirt. He was also in the age group of Rod and the others. He sat lightly in the cheap restaurant chair and held up a hand to get the attention of the staff.

"Well, mister important finally decides to show up!" Rod ribbed. He laughed, as he seemed to do after everything he said.

"To your own place. All you have to do is roll out of bed and walk downstairs. I have a whole street to cross!"

The waitress showed up and began filling mugs.

"Can I also get a couple poached eggs and toast, my dear? Rod will pick this up as well."

"Oh, sure!" Rod said. "Eat free, why don't you!"

"Well, if we were at my place, you could have coffee and toast for free too."

"But Rods' has this great ocean view," Bob said, ribbing Don.

"Wait, do you own this place?" Milton asked, wagging a finger around.

Jerry answered the for his friend, "He does! Can you believe this bead wearing, softie owns this whole resort? I don't see how he can have the politics he does and not run this place into the ground."

"Oh har-har!" Rod said.

"And, uh, what do the rest of you do?"

"A bunch of pillars of the community, wouldn't you believe it?" Don answered. "Bob is an editor over at the paper. Jerry has the rental place next door. And, I own the resort across the street. While my restaurant doesn't sit right on the beach, we make up for it with a house band that you wouldn't believe."

"Oh, you only say that because he is your grandson!" Rod said. He again acted as a commentator for the couple at the bar. "His grandson is second seat at the City orchestra, okay? So, I mean, he is a great musician and the band he put together is top notch, but he is still second seat."

Don was brought his plate. He leveled his fork at Rod, "Let him hear you say that! He is not as relaxed as I am!"

"So, this is the insider council of bigwigs on the peninsula, is it?" Milton said. "I'm honored to run into you all! Ha!"

"And what business are you in?" Jerry asked.

"I am also a property owner, but up in the City. I have a block with some shops and apartments in the Highland Hills area." Milton answered.

"Hey, let me ask you something, seriously," Milton said to the group, but let his eyes bounce between Rod to Don.

"What is your profit margin running a resort like this? With the explosion of seasonal residents in the last fifty years, there are resorts all over the place. Boat living and camping is popular too, but it seems like there are countless clubs and resorts all over the Islands these days. Is it worth owning a place down here?"

"Why, you looking to sell your block up north for a resort down here?" Rod asked with a grin.

"I just like to be informed on the market," Milton said.

"Oh it's not bad," Don said, finishing his eggs. "We make a living. And with the winters getting worse, it seams, more and more people want to come down here and live the island life if they can afford it."

"The future is mega resorts," Bob jumped in. "Big buildings. Brand franchising. Branches on multiple islands."

"Bob here thinks he knows the future," Rod scoffed.

"Well he is in the know," Jerry defended the soft-spoken man. "He reads, rather than smoking all day."

"Har-har!" Rod scoffed. "You fellas are on fire today! Showing off for my guest is more like it. Tell me, Jerry, what sort of kid were you to want to grow up and rent cars to people? Were you always a little off, or did you just give up and settle?"

The table went silent for a moment. Jerry flapped a dismissive hand at Rod and rolled his eyes.

"Speaking of Bob and his reading," Rod said, changing gears and backpedaling away from the sharp insult, "What is going on with all these burglaries you have been reporting in this rag of yours, Bob?"

"Those weren't my articles," Bob answered in his soft voice. "But I've followed the burglaries that they have been reporting on the front page."

"So is it all sensationalism," Jerry asked, "or something more?"

"Well," Bob began, placing his folded hands on the table, "It looks to be a minor crime wave hitting across either side of the strait. And it's not minor shoplifting. Safes plundered without a trace. Our fool police departments don't have any leads. Gary Bloco, over in Agendas, tells me that it's even worse than we have been making it out to be. With as quiet as the Islands are with news, this is a big thing. We are not the City, you know? We don't have the problems they have up there with syndicates and rogue operators. It looks like we caught a bug from up north."

"You would think our police will contact Barris House for assistance," Don said. "They keep tabs on all the players in the City. They could cross reference arrivals to the Islands with known elements from the City, or something?"

"Unless they didn't come through the ports!" Rod laughed. "Real bad guys would take smuggling routes or pay off officials!"

"Rod, how much do you smoke each morning?" Jerry asked. "You make it sound like it's commonplace for major crime to be lurking right under our noses. The Islands are not like the City. People come down here to get away from the city life. The rat race of up north is not how it works down here."

"Well, tell that to the people who have been robbed!" Bob shot back. "Maybe a couple of us should go in to the mayors office and tell him what is what!"

"You do that, Rod," Jerry said.

A light rain swept over the area, a wind accompanying the precipitation. Drops fell from the ends of the palm fronds, dribbling across the tilted tile floor. Waves of water hit the flat ocean behind the breakfasters, interrupting the conversation.

"Well, it's about time for us to get to our plane..." Milton said.

"It's been great chatting with you all," Dianne said.

"Ahh! It's been all our pleasure," Bob answered.

"No, we should apologize for being subjected to the ramblings of a bunch of old farts!" Rod said.

"No, no," Milton said. "It's nice to see a group like is get together. Makes me wish I could get my fellow local leaders together every once and again. Might be able to get more accomplished in my neighborhood."

"I'm afraid we gave you the wrong impression! We are just bunch of old guys, not the underground local council!"

"Well, maybe you should be!" Milton said. "So long, fellas."

"Safe travels, and good luck with your appointment!" Rod called after his departing guests.

"Remember the time you were on the island council?" Rod said to Don. "How long did that last?"

"Oh, that uptight bunch? I swear, not one of them knew how to have a good time! Being a council member is the highlight of their existence."

"None of them could ever have morning coffee like we do," Rod agreed. "They would be so concerned with everything they talked about being on the record or that they needed someone to take minutes so that it was official."

Don nodded. "Not my crowd. Us, we are a bit too much of outsiders to ever sit on that council. We are the unofficial council of Meekseas Peninsula, I'd say. But the whole island? Making real decisions sounds like real work!"

The waitress arrived at the table. "More coffee guys?"

Rod pushed his mug forward. Guests slowly began to filter in. Light background music was put on as the wait staff finished their morning duties. The rain subsided and the grey morning began its slow shift towards bright island day. The old men sat at their round table next to the bar, gabbing, as they did most mornings, kings of their little domain.
Chapter 33

His hair was growing out. No one on the Islands shaved their heads when they had a full head of hair. Plus, it kept the tropical sun off his head. Charlie Four learned quickly that sunburns were something to keep in mind planetside, unlike in space.

The heat and humidity was something else that took him a bit to get accustomed to. In all his life, even with a jump ship at his disposal, he had only been out of the Yomi system a handful of times. Living under an open, natural atmosphere had become something strange to him, but he seemed to be adapting well. The temperature fluctuations bothered Charlie the most. During most of the day, it would remain around the nominal temperature that most human controlled habitats maintained. But the humidity made him want to not wear clothes. And again, the powerful sunshine, even behind the overcast, forced him to either rub greasy oils into his skin to avoid burns, or fully cover his himself. He chose the latter, wearing lightweight, loose tops and bottoms that were quite unlike his typical union suits.

And so he walked through the market, past the fruit sellers, the trinket crafters, and the clothing stands. The tallest local stood only to his shoulder. Charlie felt at peace even though he understood almost nothing of what was said. Everyone smiled. No one took much notice of him. There was one exception, but the big man was unaware.

Charlie finished his way through the tourist market and reached a T in the road. In front of him, across the street and a wide stretch of white-sand beach, was the ocean. With a deep sigh, he turned right and made his way down a sidewalk, with the street on the left and the decorative stonewall of his resort on the right. He avoided looking right; he rather stared out at the water. The water was so heavy, so clear. It moved like scales of glass, no foam or breakers. A mile across the strait was another island just like the one he was on. The lush green land stretched from horizon to horizon, a tall mountain rising in the center. The strait was full of boat sails and floating platforms covered in party lights. People swam in the shallow water, splashed and dove the twenty feet to the sandy bottom in deepest places. All this beauty made Charlie smile.

But he had arrived at the driveway to the resort, and it was time to turn away from the natural beauty. He had to go inside. He had nowhere else to go. He crossed the grass through the common area. Palm trees stood in lines, strings of amber lights jumping from trunk to trunk. It was late afternoon, and so the oil torches had not yet been lit. The smell of roasting pork waft through the air. It was also beautiful at the resort, but it was not pure like the sights outside.

Cabin style bungalows ringed the central clubhouse and restaurant. Charlie started up the stairs to a sizable deckhouse, larger than all the others. His large hand rested on the door before he turned it and went inside.

"He's back," Eitan said as soon as he was through the door. The fair-haired pirate with a beard pushed the door closed from his seat behind it.

Caria, the only female on the team came stomping into the main room of the resort suite. "Give me the translator, I need to use it," she demanded.

Charlie stood still, two steps into the room. Another of the pirates, the youngest, Auban, approached as well. His hair was cut short and his left-front tooth was chipped. Between the three, Charlie was surrounded.

"You know the deal," A forceful voice came from a window seat. DuKain, the leader of the band, sat reclined hands folded on his chest. "You can stay with us as long as we get to use the translator. So hand it over, Caria has something to check."

With dread contained behind his poker face, Charlie lifted up his shirt and pulled the translator clipped to his waistband. He handed the square device over to the waiting woman, who snatched it from his big hand. He stood in place with his shoulders slumped as she went over to the kitchenette table and scanned a couple words. She made quick notes on a piece of scratch paper with a pencil. She began nodding halfway through her work and tossed away the writing implement in triumph.

"Yeah, I was right. The word is singular. And from the letter cipher I made, there is no other mention of proper nouns like this one," Caria reported to the room.

"And that map," Auban chimed in. "It was the only other one we could find."

Charlie stood, looking at no one.

"You knew," DuKain said to him, getting up from his place. He approached the giant standing in the middle of the room. Although all of the pirates stood half Charlie's height, and less than a third of his weight, none acted the least intimidated. "How long did you know that the huge city, five thousand miles to the north is the only other place on... wherever we are?"

Charlie did not answer.

"I don't get it!" Auban said, smacking his hands against the top of his head. "What is wrong with these people that they only have one real city on this whole world?"

"A culture different from ours that must not involve a desire to spread out," Eitan mused quietly from his spot behind the door.

"Do you understand what this means, DuKain?" Caria asked. "We don't have to be stuck in he middle of the tropics with all these people on perpetual holiday."

"No. No, it means much more," DuKain grinned at Charlie. "It means there is a much bigger world than just this island paradise that we can exploit."

"Imagine!" DuKain continued, looking around the room to everyone else. "The knowledge we have over this world! We are several hundred years more advanced than anything we have seen. You think the security systems we have encountered here have been child's play? They will undoubtedly be more advanced in the central hub of civilization, but therein lays the real reward! Think of all the things we could get into! We could dream up schemes unimaginable to these people! Organized crime on a level where we are not the ones having to be the sharp edge of the ax. We could rule!"

"I want nothing to do with it," Charlie said, walking over to the table to retrieve his device.

"Of course you don't," DuKain mocked him as he went to leave. "But where do you think the money for this place came from? You refuse to join us, but you condone our actions by remaining with us."

"The best way for us to get back, is to work together," Charlie finally spoke. "Not run off to some big city to the north."

DuKain pointed a finger up at Charlie. "What makes you think we want to go back? There we had to fight each and everyday to scrape by. Here," he said, breaking off and opening his arms, "We can live like kings on minimal effort! There is no way we would go backwards..."

"That is..." DuKain tracked back to Charlie, "Unless you hand over that tropellite you've hid from us."

"I told you," Charlie answered, "I threw it out into space as we approached Yomi. Based on its orbit, it would have fell to the surface of the small moon. If we go back, you can find it there."

Caria snorted.

"We haven't even found a hint of a way back," Auban said.

Charlie frowned, stepped around DuKain, and went out of the front door.

DuKain let out a big laugh as the door slammed, Charlie's heavy weight plodding down the stairs.

From a back bedroom, Gronk entered, bleary eyed. "What'd I miss?"
Chapter 34

The big man hit the bottom of the stairs, scanned left and right, but did not know where to go. He looked out the volcanic gravel driveway, to the strait, and to the island beyond. He gazed up into the far island hills, the faintest color differences indicating narrow trails running through the jungle hill-brush. He became transfixed upon the great monolith that dominated the far islands southern end.

Charlie imagined himself running from the resort, crunching on the porous gravel, and darting across the street. He would cross the grass, dodging palm trunks and leaping over beach chairs. With all his speed and mass, he would crash into the warm, salty water, slowed but not deterred. He could bounce and swim and trudge across the mile of water, until he was away. He would find the base of that great volcanic plug and climb the vines covering it. Nothing would stop him as he pulled himself to the top. No one would find him! He could be hidden from the tiny pirates that ruined his life. He would make himself a tent and climb down to scavenge for food at night. He would be free!

But instead, Charlie Four found himself sitting on a bench in the common area of the resort, rather than atop a stony butte, overlooking the island folk below. He was not meant to be a crazy hermit up in the hills. He did not want children telling stories about a giant who stalked through the towns at night. He had so much life in front of him. He had so much to accomplish that he couldn't think of giving up. Even if he could never get back to the Five Worlds, he still had dreams.

Shang Feam had asked him something the first time they met. He had asked Charlie what he wanted his legacy to be. From their first interaction, Charlie was given a glimpse into the crazy old mans' character. It was evident that his son, Rider, would be the old miners legacy. Charlie understood this decision, and the similarity of conviction solidified their friendship from the start.

Deep sadness began to settle over him at the thought of the fates of his neighbors. Revisiting the situation that had brought him to this world was opening a door to a persistent cycle of blame and regret. He wanted to shut out the thoughts and focus on something else, but right now there was nothing else. Only himself alone on a bench...

And suddenly Charlie realized he was not alone.

Sitting on the far side of the bench was a young, skinny boy. Hearing no one walk up, he felt justified in a brief stare. Birds let out a sharp cry from far inland.

"I've been watching you," the boy said, and Charlie understood him.

The black haired boy wore a long shirt of rich blue. It was bound high at the waist and at the forearms with leather cord. On his swinging feat, were thin sandals. He turned towards Charlie, crossed his arms and perched one elbow against the top of the bench-back.

"I've become pretty good at spotting those who don't belong."

"No one that speaks like us belongs here," Charlie whispered.

"That's a byproduct of how I wish to be seen, and unimportant. I saw what happened up in your room."

Charlie said nothing.

"Why do you stay with them? You are not like them. You do not go out and steal with them. You seem reluctant to be in their party."

"I'm not with them!" Charlie hissed. "I hate them. They have taken everything dear to me!"

"Then why?" the boy asked. "You are much larger than them. Beat them and tie them up. Go to the authorities and turn them in!"

"I would be lumped in with them," Charlie said. "I speak their same language and don't know the local tongue. Plus, they took me captive when we first got here. They held a couple against their will until they got their bearings. When we left that island and came to this one, they made it look like I was with them. So now I'm free, but if I turn on them, eventually the couple could come forward and also blame me."

"You could still leave."

"They have all my things, except this." Charlie showed his translator. "I have nowhere else to go for now. I'll wait until the time is right and go my own way, maybe."

"Go where?"

"I'm from another place," Charlie answered. "Where are you from?"

"Another place also, but I am a prisoner."

"How are you here?"

"I can look other places," Hyron said, standing. "I have learned many ways how to travel from place to place."

"Do you know a way to leave these islands? And not just to the city in the north..."

"You want to go home," Hyron said.

"Everything I have been working towards is there..."

Charlie said all this, staring out at the water, nearly oblivious to the fact that he was talking to someone else. It was as if he was still in his previous reverie. But the mention of what was lost triggered something.

"I had it!" he said, standing and clenching his fists. "Those idiots punched a hole in my ship! They did all this! I had a fist sized nugget of tropellite, and those thieving fools made me ditch it! Now I'm stuck in a place I don't know, where the locals have barely mastered flight, and I have to try my best to learn their language! All because of DuKain!"

"What kind of ship?" Hyron asked, trying to steer Charlie away from his anger.

"An old system jumper. It has been in my family for generations."

"Not a water ship, like those," Hyron said, pointing.

Charlie's rage began to melt away, as he studied the boy. "No. Space. Do you know about space?"

"The blackness. I have stumbled upon it several times. Once I thought I was in space, but it ended up being dark ocean.

"What is tropellite?"

Charlie continued to study the innocence looking lad. "A valuable mineral. It powers a ships long range engines. Usually they are found the size of a grain of sand. But I found one the size of your fist. And I left it behind so it wouldn't be taken."

Hyron's eyes went wide. "Describe to me where you are from. Be very specific. I want to see the world you are from."

"You can go anywhere? You can look, but not touch?" Charlie asked, poking a finger at the boy. It did not stop on the fabric of his long shirt. His finger sunk right through. Charlie pulled back.

"As a rule, I don't show people I am not solid," Hyron said. But you and the people upstairs are so far out of place that we are equal. I can help you, and you me. I want to explore where you are from..."

"And I want to get back there. If you have technology that can allow you to beam yourself to distant planets... or wherever we are..." he paused to think. "You operate alone? You would help me find my way back to the Five Worlds? In return for what?"

"I want to see everything there is to see. You live between five different worlds? I would like to see that. Tell me about one place and it would open the door to the rest."

Charlie considered it.

"Please," Hyron pushed, "I swear I can find you a way back to your ship and the mineral. In fact, describe to me where you hid it! I can go and make sure it is still there!"

At that, Charlie was snapped out of his thoughts. For a moment, he struggled for words. But after two false starts, he properly erupted.

"What is this? You were sent by DuKain! This is all a trick to get my fist of tropellite! There is no way that you are really some spectral apparition, come out of thin air to help me get back home! No! No, this is not going to happen to me."

Charlie spun suddenly, checking his surroundings as he backed away from the bench. He leveled a finger at the distraught young man.

"This whole thing is a trick! I didn't go through a portal left behind by a long dead warrior. Is this all some elaborate trick to get me to give up my trope? Is any of this real? Pretty good plan: stick me in tropical purgatory and get me to tell! No! Not going to work!"

Charlie fled the deserted common area. But instead of running across the street and splashing into the ocean, he ran upstairs. The big man burst into the deckhouse and stormed into his room, slamming the door. With the beds too small to accommodate his large size, he slid into his makeshift sleeping spot on the floor, curling himself into the blankets and pillows.
Chapter 35

"Let me tell you something you may not fully understand," the old woman said. "You seek Aros, thinking he is the solution to your problem. But he is not."

Hyron sat, known to all as not truly present, but nonetheless worth speaking to. The fire they sat around bounced off his young face. The Tarkin woman resumed, trying to make her point.

"We are refugees, he is not. He found us. We are as close to a home as he could reasonably expect to find, as far as he has gone. We have forged a world here that is just as good as where we were pulled from. But no. He left again.

"Aros is not a Tarkin. He is a force of nature. He cannot be contained by those like us. What we offer is an echo of Yazos. I don't know if he truly thinks he will be able to make it back home and all will be as it was when he left as a boy. He has to know that traveling the interstices has changed him. He is not the same shape to fit back into his old life. That is what we told him, but he still moved on."

The woman shook her head. "Try if you want, but I don't know where he went. He didn't talk much, that one..."
Chapter 36

The light was dim, blue almost. Charlie was covered in sweat and his head throbbed. He rolled over to his back, limbs splayed. He needed some water, but he didn't quite have it in him to get up yet. He could hear the others talking out in the main room again. It brought back his depression.

That boy.

Charlie got up, pausing at each stage of rising to catch his breath and muster his willpower.

Was that boy real?

He stood, swaying slightly, and walked over to the sink in the corner. He dodged the fan in the center of the room, blades hanging motionless at forehead height. He pulled the chain beneath the hub to get the air circulating. He grabbed a glass and filled it from the tap.

He closed his eyes as he drank.

This is real, he admitted to himself. He had been caught up in a violent wave of events ever since he laid his hands on that fist. Now, standing in this wooden room, on some unknown world, he was between waves. The uncertainty was worse than when things broke loose.

Charlie finished the glass of water. He skirted the spinning fan, and went to the door to his room. Hand resting on the door, he was unsure if he should tell the pirates about the apparition he had seen. All he knew for sure, at that moment was that he wanted to control the dialogue; he would be the master of his own fate. He didn't want to keep being swept along by events.

Charlie opened the door, and the room beyond went quiet. Five faces were starring at him.

"Were you going to keep this from us too?" Caria demanded.

"What?"

"You said to us, just a few hours ago," DuKain said, "that you wanted us to work together. Hey, even I want us to put the past behind us. The dynamic has changed, and I can work with that. I would be glad for you to be with us, rather than against us."

"Still not sure what you mean..."

"The boy came to us!" Caria shouted.

"And regardless if we believe him, you should have told us he approached you," DuKain said.

"I want to go home," Charlie said. "I want to get back to my ship! I wanna get away from you tiny little people who have wrecked EVERYTHING!"

The big man huffed, head still foggy and aching from his sleep.

"The way back is forward," Hyron said. He stood in the middle of the room.

All the pirates looked shocked, except DuKain, who grinned at the sudden appearance.

"I will show you the way to my world, which is far richer than these islands. More people. Simple people. Endless lands full of anything you want. With all you know of traveling among the heavens, you would be unmatched.

"And Charlie! Come and find me and I can show you a way back home. The power that created my gift can send you back, for sure. Many have gone on quests to find that place and few truly know where it is. I can go anywhere with my eyes."

"Boss, are we really gunna trust this ghost?" Eitan said, breaking his long silence on the subject.

Everyone looked to DuKain.

"Prince Hyron, please leave us to discuss your offer. We will give you an answer in one day."

Charlie shook his head and lowered himself to the floor, resting his back on the doorframe. The boy disappeared. Everyone was silent.

"He told you he was a prince?"

"Can a simple miner so easily distinguish foreign-world royalty?" DuKain asked.

"Can a common thug?" Charlie shot back.

"What we need is a risk assessment," Caria interjected. "We can argue about next moves all day, or we can make an educated gamble."

"If they really are just entering the gunpowder age, like the guy says..." Auban said.

DuKain sat silently.

"You already know what you want," Caria said to her superior.

He nodded, staring off into space.

"I do. But, I trust you enough to command one of my ships, and over half my crew."

DuKain nodded again. He turned to Caria.

"Do your assessment of the city to the north. We won't go if the City looks too good to pass up, or the kid can't promise us a way back. I'm terribly inclined to go as far as we can. The Five Worlds stifled us... Let's see what else is out here."

Charlie frowned. He had lost control again. Once more, the pirates commanded his fate. It was such a simple thing, but it buzzed like an insect in his ear. He was unable to swat it away.

So he ran.

Out the door and away from the resort. Charlie crossed the road and bound down the beach. To the left, the wide strip of sand was deserted by sunbathers, and replaced with clusters of people around small bonfires. The sun had set, but darkness had not fully spread. Charlie shed his clothes as he went. He ran into the water, slowed, just as he imagined, then dove in.

It was not deep, but Charlie swam, fully submerged, as long as he could stand. Finally, he broke the surface and stood. In the chest deep water, he gazed across the strait, saltwater running from his short hair, down his face.

"I know not to trust them," Hyron said, standing next to Charlie.

Charlie looked over, then down, under the water.

"Can you even touch in this depth?"

"I can't touch anything," Hyron reminded.

"And why should I trust you?" Charlie asked. "How do I know you are not playing both sides?"

"I am," Hyron nodded. "But it is different with you. I know those ones you are with have a skewed nature. I have no problem unleashing them on my land. I really am a prisoner. And for me to break free, I need help. In return I can share what I have learned about the universe."

"You shouldn't ask for help from me, though," Charlie said. He continued to look out across the water at the neighboring island. It was coming to life with fires and lights and music. "I am big, but I am not a warrior. My great grandfather was, but I am not."

"You are not the only one I've come to," Hyron admitted.

Charlie fully turned toward the projection.

"There are others, across distant worlds, all on their way. But I swear to you: help me and I can get you home."

"You wanted to know what the Five Worlds was like, so you can explore there too?" Charlie led the conversation back. "There is no point in me returning to nothing. You can go and look and make sure my mineral is hidden where I left it?"

"Let us help each other," Hyron nodded.

The prisoner walked down the hallway as if he was floating. This time, he wore all black over his young thin frame. He felt as though he should be doing this errand without being seen, but the internal lights of the tomb reacted to movement, and for that, he could not walk unnoticed.

As he walked the windowless corridors, Hyron was oddly nervous. He raised his right hand, palm up, fingers relaxed, and thumb pushed out. He skimmed the wall where the thumbnail should have hit, but felt nothing. He clicked his right side canines twice. At his anchor, back in the prison, he must have done the same, as the bashing of teeth felt real.

On the right was a room, but this was not the one he wanted. It was empty- three glass cases holding nude mannequins. One was shattered, one locked, one left open. Hyron continued on.

The next room to the right matched the description the big man had given. It was a maze of trophies collected into a storehouse of souvenirs. As Hyron ventured deeper, he found the spot he was to begin his search. He turned his back on the glass slab that displayed moving pictures, and looked over the opposite table. He peaked inside the coil of an old leather gun belt, but did not see the fist sized white-oil stone he had been sent for. After a few more moments of checking, the boy frowned and snorted resolutely.

He vanished from the room without warning. The tomb was once again empty. Lights began shutting off from a lack of occupation. Not a particle of dust was touched.

Hyron walked up to Charlie, planted in the sand of the beach. He jumped to his feet.

"Well?" the big man asked the child.

A nod. "Right where you said. And the place was deserted."

Charlie let out a sigh of relief.

The projected face of the boy did not change, but half a universe away, the seated figure winced. It was what he had to do. Time was running out.
Chapter 37

Allan Dean was speaking furiously on the phone when the Detective Sergeant and Detective Constable arrived. He saw them enter his small shop and immediately ended the call. He wore a blue fleece vest over a white collared shirt. The short sleeves left his thick forearms exposed, along with an Expeditionary Force tattoo that had been faded with time. Behind the counter were info-graphics of wildlife and undersea terrain. On a stool by the cash register Bethany Dean sat like a statue.

"That was a fellow tour service. They are out with guests and said they would do a quick survey of the Inner Max Shelf, but that is at least an hour from now. Water rescue said they have two boats on patrol in the area and will be searching for them if they surface..."

Allan paused, visibly frustrated.

"Shouldn't you be taking notes on this? What other resources are the police adding to the search?"

"You are Allan Dean, owner and operator of Dean's Underseas Tours, Correct?" the younger of the two detectives asked.

"Yeah! I'm the one who reported the stolen submarine!"

"I am Detective Constable Rodgers and that is Detective Sergeant Pine. We are here to investigate the theft. Now, what can you tell us about your submarine that was stolen?"

Allan licked his lips and danced around in place as he spoke. "It's a ten person tour sub! It's a custom order from a ship builder in the city. I've owned her for a dozen years now. And... Well... She's bright white..."

Allan stopped and took a breath.

"I'm directing multiple agencies in their response. Are you here to set up a command post or something? Is one of you going to take charge of the coordination efforts? I mean... I don't have time to be..."

"Mr. Dean, we are not here in that capacity. We are here to take your statement on the grand theft and specifically on the comment you made over the phone about the suspects use of a translation box," Rodgers said.

"I'm still in active recovery mode!" Allan said. "If you are not here to help me stop these guys and get my sub back, then you are a waste of my time."

"I'm sorry you feel that way," Rodgers said. "And I can understand where you are coming from. But we are a critical step in the overall process. Now, we may not apprehend the perpetrators in the act, but you must admit, that is an unlikely event. A small craft like that? If they stay under the surface? The most likely outcome of a successful recovery of your submarine will be through standard police work, not someone spotting the thieves in the act."

Rodgers let the statement hang in the air.

"I know that's not what you want to hear. But this is our job. Let us help. You don't have to stop your coordination of resources. Just spare a few minutes to answer our questions."

"Fine," Allan yielded. "You just want me to take you through it?"

"Please," Detective Constable Rodgers said, drawing out his pocket notebook.

"So, I come in, like I do every morning. I go out to get the sub prepped and I'm down inside when I hear a tapping at the top port. I get this from time to time. People are out milling about the pier and come down the stairs to the sub slip, even though there are signs saying you have to be escorted. They wanna look at the sub. So, I go to tell these people that they can't be down here around all the equipment and that they need to go up to the office to book a tour."

"What time was this?" Rodgers interrupted.

"Quarter after seven. I try to get the first tour out by nine," Allan answered. "But when I pop up, the group doesn't get what I'm saying, like. I've never encountered anything like it. They had this little white speaker box translating into another language. But not like a regular language. It was like they were using this language and couldn't speak ours at all. Like the language they used was a totally different one, not just one that they used amongst themselves so that I didn't know what they were saying."

"Describe the group, please," Rodgers said.

"They were all pretty white skinned. Even the lady, who was darker, was pretty light. They prolly haven't been in the islands long looking pasty like that."

"Number?"

"Oh. There were six of them, I think. One woman. All adults. Youngish. But one of 'em, the guy holding the box, he was huge. Had to have been seven foot!"

"And they hauled you out? Threatened you with physical violence?"

"Naw, they had these crazy black guns. They kinda looked fake. I used one once, for wildlife defense, in the Expies. These didn't look like that at all," Allan said. "But they gave me a spooky feeling, so I didn't mess with them."

"Let me get this right," the Detective Sergeant said, speaking for the first time. He had been milling around the tour shack during the interview. Now he stood off to the side, leaning against the wall.

"Six guys with guns that spoke another language exclusively, you say, showed up and stole your tourist submarine, out of the blue?"

"Pretty much!" Allan said. "That boat is my life blood! I used all my savings and retirement from the Expeditionary Forces on her! It's a custom design! Without tours, I have no income!"

"I assume you are the sole pilot? No employees who know how to drive it? No chance of an inside job?"

"My wife knows some. She has taken a few tours out when I was sick..."

"And she is right here, which is good," Detective Sergeant Pine said. "What else? No dialogue? Just, we have guns, get out?"

"Well, they didn't pull 'em on me right away," Allan said. "They kinda chatted with me at first. Asked a few things, just like lookers usually do. I tell 'em to go up to the office, but I'm also in a hospitable trade. I don't like to piss off potential customers, even if they are idiots and speak in other languages around me."

"Before they pulled the guns, then, what did they ask?" Rodgers picked back up.

"About the sub..." Allan said, realizing his foolishness. "It's specifications and such. I mean, it seemed like normal questions a nervous client would ask. Like they wanted to know if the sub was safe without sounding scared. I just figured they were odd engineer types from the City."

"And then they pulled the guns? Nothing else?"

"Yeah. A couple questions. One of 'em was poking around the back. Then they show me the guns and tell me to leave. I showed them my hands and scooted back up to the pier deck. I watched them jump in. I didn't think they would be able to launch it, but they did. They closed and locked the hatch and spun her up just as quick as I could. I don't mean that I think they had ever been on my sub before and watched me do it, so they knew how it worked. I would remember these people. But it was like they just knew how that sort of thing worked and it was easy for them. I'm telling you, they must have been engineers or something. Maybe they were former employees of the shipyard that built her!"

"Definitely worth looking into," Pine said. "That's all we have for now. Will be in touch."

"Our card," Rodgers said, startled by his partners sudden end to the interview.

The phone on the desk rang, helping solidify the sudden end to the conversation. Bethany Dean answered, and held the phone out for her husband.

"Of course," Allen Dean said to the Detective Constable. "Let me take this."

The two police left the sub tour office and began to walk back down the pier. Their feet clapped on the old worn wood. The morning fog was clearing and the warm, tropical sun was transitioning from morning light to a source of ever-present heat.

"Same crew you think?" Rodgers asked.

"I'd say," Pine answered. "You go back and write up the grand theft. You can be point on that. I've got a couple things I want to check on my own..."
Chapter 38

The hum of the battery-powered engine pulsed in the ears of the six people in the submarine. The low buzz was the only noise they could hear inside the sealed tube, other than the occasional shift in position of a body in the chairs. Inside was dark, except for the light blue light filtering in through the thick glass bubbles at the window seats of each row. Charlie found himself the only one who was cramped in the small submarine.

"This is just about the size of Apex," Auban said looking around. As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he realized his mistake.

"I hope you never see your little piece of trash star-skippers again," Charlie said to him.

The cabin was cold and still, both from the remark and their place on hindered feet under water.

"The past is behind us, remember?" DuKain reminded Charlie and Auban. "We all lost a great deal on our gambits."

"So, the only way is forward," he scolded. "Keep it in mind."

At the front of the sub was a deck, slightly lower than the passenger area. Two seats sat in front of the controls, which DuKain and Caria operated. Eitan stood between them, looking at laminated charts of the ocean floor. Gronk and Auban sat in the first row, on opposite walls, looking out their respective bubbles at the ocean life as they passed. Charlie occupied the back row, slouched down and taking up both seats of one side, feet hanging into the isle.

The three up front talked quietly as they figured out the operation of the strange craft. Charlie brooded in the back. He rubbed his forehead.

In the dim light, across the isle, the boy appeared.

With the strangest impulse, Charlie spoke to the apparition. No preamble. Nothing held back.

"What is a bad decision?" he asked in a low voice.

Hyron turned and faced him.

"Is a bad decision a set thing, or do we only know it after the fact? Is it only the outcome that judges its merits? Or, deep down, do we know that we are cutting a corner? And what makes someone keep making them? You would think after enough bad decisions, we would see where we went wrong and stop that behavior. Is it the times that we get away with cheating or doing what we know is not fully right, and the outcome is still favorable? Does that warp our ability to learn? Are we terribly forgetful? Is it that underneath the surface, we are self sabotaging? Is it in our nature? It can't be as simple as laziness or as unknowing as random outcomes. There has to be a better way... As much as I try, I feel like my forethought will never be as clear as my hindsight..."

"This is a good decision," Hyron answered.

"You don't know that," Charlie winced.

Hyron got up, and walked down the isle. Auban and Gronk took notice of him as he took a place at the edge of the passenger deck, looking down on the pilots.

"Hey! So, um, how do you find us? We left with the sub and are way far away from where we stole it and you found us," Auban asked.

"I came back to this submarine," Hyron answered. "Where it is does not matter. You understand space and the movement of worlds. A planet is just a large ship moving through the darkness. I don't go back to that spot the planet was, I go back to the planet. For me, it's the place in my mind. Memories or pictures."

Auban frowned. He was about to ask another question, but the boy put his hands up on the rails and addressed the pilots.

"I see you are working this machine easy enough. A will you be able to find the spot I mentioned, do you think?"

Eitan turned. "We have never done this before. We are used to computers giving us best options. Solid numbers; not just depth, distance and direction. And usually, visibility is through camera feeds, not with our eyes out of glass. This is strange, but nothing we can't handle. We will find this island you pointed out."

"It's pretty far from the central cluster," Caria added. "It's going to take awhile to get there. I think we will have enough energy in the battery. The man we took this from gave us no clear answer on its range, but looking at output versus distance traveled, I believe we will make it. These are all soft numbers though."

DuKain turned away from his station and faced the boy. "Now that we have committed to this course of action, I have a few more questions about what is awaiting us..."

The small white submarine continued to slide through the depths. At a bend in the trench it had been following, a puff of air escaped as the craft climbed out to the flat ocean floor. Making a straight run across a wide expanse, it dodged to the left, circling around the foundation of a small island. Back on its heading, the way transformed from smooth sand to a littering of large boulders. The geometrical boulders increased in density until the little white cruised over nothing but a jumbled rocky mess.

Caria slowed the pace and DuKain pinged the sonar. A nearly physical click shot through the soundscape, followed by a delicate high note. The experience was not unpleasant, and results materialized on a round scope-box on the dash.

"I thought you weren't going to use that, boss," Gronk said from over DuKain's shoulder.

"We are far enough out, I'm sure. If they are even listening, a single use should be sufficiently scattered," he said.

The whole crew peered out the forward bubble, straining to see the rocky island they had been sent to find, and had just located on sonar.

"It should be just ahead..." Eitan muttered to himself.

The visibility, while great, allowing one to see for fifty meters, faded everything to a colorless light blue beyond. And at their depth, most detail was only seen in shades of light.

The sub crept forward.

Caria tried the forward spotlights. The beams picked up the waters natural turbidity; the cone of light given solid definition. Nearby, the undersea lichens that covered patches of brown stone were illuminated, showing off their true bright colors. She switched off the light.

"Easier to see without that," Caria commented.

"Save that for when it's dark..." Eitan confirmed.

As the last word was out of his mouth, the way ahead became dark. It did not start gradually, but suddenly, a wall of shadow jumped into their face.

"We are here," Hyron said from the isle of the passenger deck. His face was no longer splashed with blue light. He looked worried. His youthful appearance betrayed disquiet as he urged them forward. "The cave mouth is on the north side."

"The island must be eclipsing the sun and we hit the termination line," Caria said. She turned the sub to the right and zigzagged the edge of the shadow as she made her way to the north.

"Don't do that," DuKain growled after the second time popping between the light and darkness. "I'm dropping us to the ocean floor. Skirt the island as close as you can."

The submarine came in tight and low as it wound around the base of the island, searching for the cave. Hyron, who had been disappearing in and out, came back after a long interval.

"Stop," the boy said. "We are at the cave."

"I don't see a cave anywhere," Caria said, cutting the electric prop and studying the terrain outside the forward bubble.

Hyron pointed and disappeared.

In the dark water, darker now with the waning daylight, a figure appeared in the water. Caria activated the searchlight and swept it over the boy. Water swept clothes and hair, Hyron pointed at a place that Caria had earlier assumed to be a large boulder. The cave walls, lighter in color than the outside stone, was effectively camouflaged from unaided view. Back, dry, in the sub, Hyron spoke.

"Shall we go?"

With great care, the white submarine sunk downward into the tunnel, maneuvering like a bug among a giants lair. Unsure and cautious, the little, white, stolen, tourist craft bobbed along. It was discovered that each of the window seat portholes had an adjustable spotlight associated with it. The cave became illuminated with the bright forward beam and three lesser lights, exploring the cavern as they moved forward.

Charlie pulled his face away from his window and looked to Hyron, who stood still at his post. As if the boy sensed his gaze, he looked back, and smiled. Charlie nodded, and went back to his light and restricted view of the cave they glided through.

"Is that a dead end ahead?" Caria asked DuKain in a calm, low voice.

"I'm going to ping it," DuKain said. "I hate not having sensors..."

The click followed by a note caught Charlie off guard. He once again looked away from his window. Hyron was nowhere to be seen.

"I think..." DuKain said, studying the scope, "That we have to go up. But that's a dead end too..."

"Boss, we are low on air," Eitan whispered to DuKain. "We need to be... wherever... or head out of this cave."

"Battery is at fifteen percent, as well," Caria reported.

"Point of no return?" DuKain asked rhetorically. "Let's go up."

Eitan turned the forward spotlight upward and hung his head out into the main bubble, looking up. Charlie got out of his seat and stood in the isle, in an odd crouch due to his height. He looked upward, out of an observation bubble located behind the passenger ladder to the main hatch. It had no mini-spotlight like his window seat, but with the illumination provided by Eitan at the front, he could nominally see above them. Charlie wiped away the condensation on the glass and waited with unblinking eyes.

The submarine rose upward, in a flat position, giving off burps of air as it shed depth. Inside the can, DuKain noticed the pressure change tracking their rise to the surface, but said nothing. Charlie was the first to speak up.

"I see the surface! The water is ending up there!"

"I agree, we are about to surface," Eitan confirmed.

Like a cork in a tub, the sub broke the surface in a cascade of bubbles. The crew didn't wait, or secure the craft in a standard manner. Air pumps off and on gassed, but all this was automatic. With the topmast poking out and the water, the top hatch of the submarine was thrown open.
Chapter 39

Wind swept from the south, whipping up a storm of orange sand. Around the rim of a crater, in the middle of the rust red desert, circular brown tents were pelted with the fine grains. Canvas flapped against the wind as the sun began to rise.

At one point in the ring of tents, a cluster had formed. The cluster had begun to loose its brown color, adopting, rather, the deep red of the sand, which buffeted the shelters each morning. In the center of the crater was a large, short, carved-stone structure. Its black, smooth surface seemed to repel the red grains. Upon a closer viewing, the seamless stone had no sharp angles at joints, as if the rock had, all at once, become molten, and cooled.

Movement in the cluster was quick; short movements from tent to tent. None of the armored compliment cared to be out in the storm for long. With cloths wrapped over their noses, the leader, followed by three men, entered the largest tent.

"Hello, Captain Falto," the single occupant of the large tent said as the thin soldier entered.

Falto pulled the red cloth off his face, as did his three Sergeants. He brushed at his thinning hair and stepped up to the desk the architect was working at.

"The company I have been given has been in place for a week. You and your men have been studying the tower for a month. Your historians have had their papers for a year. Workers toil each day only to have the scant progress they make nearly washed away after each windstorm. Yet here I stand, and nothing has changed."

"Are you in a hurry, Captain?" the chief architect asked, not looking up at his critic. "All you Merinti seem to be a constant state of hurry."

"Perhaps that is why the Negus commanded someone be sent to speed up this process," Falto responded.

"The arcane takes time to decipher."

"I don't care about all that. I was not happy to leave my post and come out here. I have enough problems to deal with back in my country," Falto said.

The old soldier stood silently until the short, pot-bellied architect looked up from his drawings and fully regarded him.

"Your time is past. You will assist me in accomplishing something today. No more of your drawings. You will show me the place you believe we can break through to get to the structure below, or I will have you relieved from this project. I am sending a runner out by the end of the day to report that we have entered and begun the exploitation of what is inside."

The architect went tight lipped.

"No! We should make diligent drawings and descriptions of this place and not force our way in! Everywhere must be uncovered and documented. I am not trying to uncover the structure all at once. It is fine if the windstorms recover what we have already charted. The last party that was hasty encountered resistance. And now, the way is resealed, as if it is being guarded! We need to discover the proper entrance. We should understand the power that exists down below, rather than being a mindless soldier and kicking in the door!"

"You will be on my side," Falto growled, "Or on no side at all. I will send the Negus positive results by the end of this day. If you want his attention focused on your homeland, that's fine. But I will appease him. He will have no reason to think twice about Merintill, especially when it comes to failure."

Falto turned away from the architect, who was left speechless and fuming. He nodded to his sergeants, who left the tent. He turned back to the work desk and located the foundation schematic. The thumped a finger down on a point.

"A previous breach has been made here?"

"Yes, but it failed. The men making it died! I was assigned after that, and when I arrived, the way was sealed. The handful of workers who remained said the opening was closed and a storm covered it back over with sand. I don't believe that is the way in! We must continue our survey and determine the proper way."

"The Negus believes this place holds power. He believes a great hunter, sent in by an ancient King, went down inside and came back with fantastic tales. And so, with your slow progress, I will be the one to answer this question for our Negus. And should it be haunted, as you claim, then we will also be great hunters, and let nothing stop us from returning with our own fantastic tales," Falto concluded.

"If my time to learn from this place has really past," the architect said, "and you demand to use force, then I wish you luck. I wash my hands of it. I will stay and be of service, but I warn you: everything I have seen from this place makes me feel as if there is something down there. I feel a dark presence. The depths are being guarded."
Chapter 40

Envy, the white war robot, with Lora Clark riding on his back, rolled through the old portal that originated on Daër Acte. The portal threshold became a block of pink, tangible light. The whining Lora had heard when the gate activated; she could now feel in her bones. The transition between worlds was swift, and the pair was suddenly blanketed in brilliant light. It took less than a fraction of a second for Lora to sense something was wrong.

Gravity reached up and gripped the pair. Lora was weightless, but clutched to Envy's neck as they began to plunge downward. Wind was whipping by so fast that tears covered Lora's eyes, giving only the impression of dark green below.

Envy, in automatic reaction, altered his body. The heavy snake-tread base narrowed and moved to a central position on the front of his body. Now, falling in a slightly prone position, black-haired girl clutching to Envy's back. The robot extended tucked wings. Under Lora, the stubby wings rotated out to the side and began to grow longer by telescope.

Fully extended and beginning to catch air, Lora found herself riding the back of the robot. Struck by a memory of first seeing the white robot, she thought of the rocket exhaust port that was affixed between the wings. Knowing that the rocket fire would not bode well for her, she crawled (and was simultaneously snatched) forward to Envy's cradled arms on his front side.

Moving along a gliding frame while traveling at a near terminal speed took precise effort. She flashed back with the time she spent looking like a young girl, in the company of special service brigade commandos. Paragliding over Germany in a craft built in 1938 somehow seemed just as precarious as riding on a war robot designed one hundred years later.

Lora gripped Envy's upper arms and pulled at the straps of the newly acquired backpack, in hopes it would clear the rocket. The robot continued to cruise along, getting lower and lower to the ground. Lora looked out best she could, side eyed at the new world they had worked so hard to arrive in. But all she saw was a dark green ground with gentle, rolling terrain, and the occasional flash of thin brown poles. Envy squeezed her tight.

Like a loop on a roller coaster, the direction changed sharply. Lora pulled close to the machine and closed her eyes.

Envy moved the contouring flaps of the wings, pulling his slowly disintegrating flight line up, into a stall. At the point of neutral velocity, he fired the back rocket. The roar of the rocket engine was intense. The flame of exhaust shot down twice as far as Envy was tall. As their descent was slowed, Envy transitioned his base back to its standard position.

Deep purple smoke erupted as the flames licked the green earth and the pair touched down. Snorting the smell of burnt peppermint out of her nose, Lora opened her eyes, and climbed down from Envy's arms. She let herself tumble to the ground to catch her breath. She needed a moment to recover after the crazy ride.

The first few steps she took on the new world were exaggerated high steps as she tested out the spongy ground. She went to the rear of Envy, avoiding the ring of charred mossy green, and looked at the robots back. Sticky strands of black streaked away from the straps of the former backpack. Scorching and melted material tainted the matte white of Envy's backside.

Shrugging, Lora, with Envy's help, removed the remainder of the pack and tossed it aside. Spinning to the world, she saw everything much more clearly. Overcast clouds hung high in the air. Slim, brown, cylindrical posts shot up into the sky. She could see at least three of such posts in her current sea of dark green.

Envy went through a series of repairs and maintenance on his body machinery, leaving Lora to wonder as she waited. With her knee high boots, she strode across the matted earth, sinking in to her ankles. She went toward one of the posts, to investigate. As she walked, more things became apparent. To her mind, it was like seeing a single ant scurrying across the ground. As she adjusted to what she was seeing, all the ants came into focus. It was that way with the winged creatures in the sky.

At first, the birds looked like small specks up in the sky. A large group coalesced, becoming visible after momentary passing across a dark facet of clouds. Then, a straggler came into view. Lora noticed this one more due to movement, rather than by its appearance. But when she got a look at the creature, she realized it was not a bird. The light grey color, which helped hide it in the sky, was not due to feathers. Rather, the creature had smooth skin. And its head was not adorned with a beak, but a snout.

The pterodactyl made no noise. It suddenly changed course to swoop down towards the lone figure. Lora's eyes went wide and she ran hard toward the only cover in reach. She reached the pole, and swung around behind it, ignoring the powdery grit that came off under her hands. Peeking up into the sky, a shock jolted her, as she couldn't locate the flying creature that had noticed her. Lora crouched, ready to put the pole between herself and an aerial attacker.

But then she found it, behind her, flying away.

Shoulders relaxing, she let out breath she didn't know she was holding. She looked up the pole that almost disappeared into the sky, and walked back to Envy.

Done with his work, Envy pointed in a direction of travel and started off. Lora picked up her pack with melted straps and followed behind. Once again, the robot led the way. Unlike on the first world they visited, Lora kept her eyes glued on the sky rather than looking at the sea below.

And then it came.

Before Lora knew what was happening, before even Envy had the smallest moment he needed to react, the pair was scooped up. One second they were walking in a strange and empty world, and the next they were engulfed.

A sense of pink surrounded them and they lost all grasp on the tangible. There was an idea of a membrane that separated them from the outside, which dissolved into space and stars. Lora tried to reach out with her hand, but nothing moved. Instead, in her mind, her fingers touched the inside of the skin. The flash of a long, worm like creature, herself and Envy contained inside, lay over her eyes. The sense of speed pressed over her body, in a non-oppressive sensation.

The robot was silent and unmoving. Scenes and colors flashed outside the worm, as Lora instinctually knew they had been snatched by something quite different than she had ever experienced. Inside the worm, Lora understood they were traveling, somewhere...
Chapter 41

The wind had died. The day was clear and still. Falto pulled off the scarf he had covered his face with and tossed it back on the field chair he stood up from. The tall, skinny, military man crossed his arms as he watched the workers begin to cart out all the sand that had covered parts of the tower.

Using wooden digging tools and buckets, the men worked like a swarm of insects, carting off the sand and dumping it in a mound away from the strange, open structure. The Architect stood in the middle of all the action, flanked by two scribes attending to him like puppies. The soft man disgusted the soldier, so Falto walked away. He preferred to be among the men with calluses on their hands.

The tall old soldier strolled, hands behind his back. He wound his way through the workers, who flowed around him like a boulder in a river. Falto came to a stop at the head of the procession where a group of men dug sand, filling buckets to be carted away. Falto looked around and took a large step up, onto a block, to look down at all the work below. He resumed his formal posture, letting his presence be known.

All averted their gaze, continuing to work as if unobserved, except for one man. Hair and skin were the color of the fine rust sand that was being shoveled. This worker met the gaze of the Captain of the Governors Thirty-Three. Falto noticed him immediately. But the man continued to work, and so his approach was measured.

"Good morning to you."

"The metal over your heart," the worker tapped his own chest, "What is it for?"

"It marks me as a Captain of the Imperial Arms."

"Are you from Mervas City? I've never been there."

"I am from Merintill. Have you been to Cape?"

"In fact, I have never been anywhere but the Tsisia Steppe where I was born," the worker grinned. "But your voice does not sound like a Merinti. Is that what happens when you travel?"

Falto laughed. The other workers looked amongst themselves, worried. The worker beamed.

"What is your name, bold one?"

"Tandur," he answered. "Do you enjoy being a soldier?"

"It's all I've ever known."

Tandur stopped to wipe his brow as another lugged away his bucket of sand. "I thought about being a soldier, once. Almost did it too. Looks like a nice thing, being a soldier, from where I'm standing now."

"I had no choice in the matter," Falto said. "I could have just as easily been standing next to you."

All the men let that statement sink in before Falto expanded.

"The reason I don't sound like a Merinti is because I was sent away at a young age to serve the Negus in the Imperial Arm. I was not stolen away; rather it was a great honor for my family of farmers to send me to be trained. It has given me a life far beyond what I would have had. I maintain a position of honor in defending my home."

"You served for years in Mervas before you got to return back to Merintill?"

Falto nodded.

"And in Mervas you looked out of place?"

"In Mervas, it was apparent I was a foreigner," Falto confirmed.

Tandur finished filling a bucket, and leaned on a handle. His eyes darted to the side of the temple and then back to Falto. "And in your homeland, where you serve in Cape, everyone else can tell by your speech, that you are foreign."

Tandur paused and again his eyes flicked away. He took a deep breath and resumed digging. This time he did not meet Falto's gaze.

"And so you fit in nowhere. You were raised as an outsider and when you return home you are still an outsider. All this is the way of your beloved Negus and his Imperial Arm?"

The other workers slowed in shock. Tandur continued to work, head down, as if bracing for a blow. His fellow diggers stepped away, looked up at Falto, ready to take in the scene.

Falto, taken aback by the brazen, personal probing, reeled. He opened his mouth and unclamped the hands behind his back to deal with the young digger. But something was tugging at his mind. Something was not right.

Falto tracked the glances that Tandur had thrown in the middle their interaction. His eyes narrowed at the sight of a crippled boy at the edge of the dig, facing their direction. A man used to swift action, Falto dropped from his perch and sprinted across the rapidly dissipating sand. Mid sprint, he once again knew something was wrong. The area he was headed for was vacant. In a bob of his head during the rapid move, he had lost focus on his target and now the cripple was gone. The bewildered captain swung is head all around, not finding the boy he saw from only a short distance away.

Then came the crack.

Everyone in the area felt the earth split. The sound was unmistakable for rock cracking and falling away. The work party froze as the echo of a boulder falling loose and careening into the depths jarred their previous state of working calm. Sand slid into the black darkness left in the rock face.

Workers backed up. Strange sounds came up from the depths, along with a wet, cool air. The sharp contrast in mixing atmospheres met Falto and his sergeants as they rushed to the mouth of the pit.

Further up, away from the action, the architect rung his hands and wiped his brow. He watched the soldiers close in on the entrance, and abruptly left for his tent. The scribe standing beside the architect could feel dread emanating from his master as he retreated from the unfolding mess.
Chapter 42

Lora opened her eyes. She was sitting on the ground, but nothing she saw meant anything to her brain. Except Envy.

The robot sat next to her, motionless, except for his head, which was swiveling around.

There were fluorescents. When she reached out her hand, it did not reflect any light when she held it close. The ground, fuzzy like felt, was a bright turquoise. Looking up, the sky was black, but in a way it appeared to be luminous. Violet hills rolled along in the distance. At least she assumed they were rolling hills, as her depth perception was off due to an absence of color gradient.

Lora inferred it was night. There was no better word she could use to describe the place she found herself in. She stood and took two steps. Rocks and plants coalesced, glowing with internal brightness, as she got closer.

"Lora," Envy spoke.

It had seemed like ages since she had heard his voice.

"Look up."

Like a Chinese New Year dragon, the dull, backlit, tube-shaped serpent wound through the air. It went up and down, in a wide circle, at a slow but firm pace. Its semi-transparent skin was light orange, but the colors began to change as it spoke directly into Lora's mind. Dark orange scales seemed to pulse and fade with each concept.

You are awake, now. Are you ready to get moving?

Lora did not respond back. She was transfixed on the leading edge of the tube, searching for something resembling a head to properly regard. Envy kept tracking the movement without moving.

Then the worm changed patterns. Suddenly, it shifted downward, looping and curling, seeming to run away, but the tail whipped in front of Lora's face. And it wasn't a tail, but its head, which was traveling last.

Oh, little creature, have you come to your senses? I hope I didn't find one that is broken...

The worm looked over at Envy. Lora stared at its face.

It reminded her of an elephant. But there were no wrinkles. Or a trunk. She couldn't remember what an elephant mouth looked like, but this worms mouth was rounded skin and no lips or teeth. Perhaps it was the big, black, knowing eyes. The worm had three.

I brought your little toy with you. Can't you hear me?

"I can hear you," Lora said.

Excellent. Now, go to it! Do your thing. I will leave you in here as long as it takes.

"Sure..." Lora said, unsure what was going on, or how many questions she should ask of the wormmy-dragon that had scooped her up and brought her... somewhere.

"What is this place?" she asked. It was worth a try.

The worm looped up into the air, taking up a figure eight pattern, similar to before.

Do you like it? I made it for my mate. Our own private mini-dimension. Only we know how to get here. At least that is how I designed it... While you are killing the blob, I will be searching for the way it got in.

"Blob?"

Yes. In theory, these places are not meant to have any way for small creatures to get in. Sometimes blobs or goo's will hide in the outer workings to avoid bad magnetism. But, somehow one got in. I'll leave you and your toy in here for a few days to find and kill it while I fix the hole.

"I don't understand..."

That's okay, little creature. I know human minds are simple. I was just so lucky to have found you so close. I thought I was going to have to travel to the human worlds to snag one of you. I don't even know anyone who has a real human I could borrow for a few days. Most my friends that have humans keep them in-dimension and they are fat and slow. But you are lean and look like a scrapper. That toy of yours looks very sharp.

"So we have to kill this blob, and you will let us go?"

Yes, yes. And if you do a good job, I'll shuttle you off wherever you want to go. But be quick! I am presenting this to my mate soon. He will not be able to relax in our own space with a blob squishing about.

Lora opened her mouth to ask another question, but the worm began to speed up. It changed flight patterns once again, this time into a triangle. The scales, which appeared dark orange when it spoke, now lightened to a yellow. They began to strobe as the worm sped, faster and faster. Then it was gone.
Chapter 43

"So are you going to tell me what that just was?" Lora asked her companion, sounding annoyed.

"Unknown nomenclature. The data I have is scant. They are mainly creatures of legend. Inter-dimensional beings that can naturally shift through the impenetrable barriers between worlds, traveling great distances. This one appears to have brought us here. Did it give a reason?"

"It said something about building this place for its mate..." Lora shook her head.

She kicked at the ground and spun towards Envy.

"All I wanted was to keep moving in the right direction and now we are way off course! How does it think it can just do that to me? And you! What kind of guide are you? I thought you were trying to help me get to a place where I could fix this loop I've been in! You let us get kidnapped!"

"In my experience and from the stories told to me by my master, this divergence from our path is not a negative thing. Aros has told me of the many times he, 'went along with what he found,' and there were positive outcomes. It is my mission to document the way to transverse all of existence. I have never been to this place or seen that inter-dimensional being. Therefore, I am succeeding at my mission by being here now," Envy said.

"'Just go with it,' and 'difficult times are opportunities,' is what you are telling me?" Lora took a short breath and unclenched her fists. "You sound like me telling my children to relax. But in a more robotic way..."

Envy turned his head, saying nothing.

"You're right," she breathed. "Come on, apparently we have to kill a blob!"

Lora lay on her stomach on the top of a gently sloping rise. She peaked out from the base of a glowing fern that had leaves like wooly felt. Below, in a winding gulch she spied the undulating mass they had been drafted to exterminate. The semi transparent globule heaved through a patch of exotic flora, encompassing the beautiful flowers and ferns and sucking the life from them. With each new patch dissolved, the blob oscillated up and down as if in celebration of another mouthful of food.

Remaining on her stomach, Lora crawled backward. As her cover increased, she loosened her use of stealth until she reached Envy. The war robot held out an arm and a golf ball sized probe dropped back down from the sky and re-implanted into the back of his six-fingered hand. The two retreated a distance further for their conference.

"That? That's what we are supposed to be the experts on killing? Why can't that worm just scoop it up and spit it out like it did to us?" Lora snorted and shook her head. "What do I know about getting rid of a pile of goo? This is ridiculous."

"From what I can tell, it is similar to an acid-based fluid creature I have documented once before. The organism feeds on organic and inorganic life, with high efficiency. Left unchecked, it will grow much larger, cycle through various viscous tints, and asexually reproduce at an astonishing rate."

"So how do we get rid of it?"

"The gelatinous body is a fluid muscle. Most cells are non-specialized, other than what you may think of as a brain, which free floats among the body. To cause death, that control nexus should be destroyed. But the fluid body surrounding it will make that difficult. My small munitions would not penetrate deeply enough to use from a distance," Envy said.

"Another approach? How about a chemical attack? It's a fluid, so dry it out? Burn it up?" Lora asked.

Envy nodded. "I don't believe you will find much here to be combustible. The composition of the material in this place is either quite dense or rare. I feel any attempt to burn the creature out would fail. But a chemical attack may work. I have the aluminum powder you supplied in the Farallon Islands. The outer skin would have to be breached and the powder plus a base substance could be introduced to transform and neutralize the high acid content."

"Alright, we find some salt or dirt. Make a knife or machete out of something? One of your glider wings?" Lora planned aloud. "Do you think this thing is aggressive?"

"Unknown," Envy admitted, detaching the wings from his glider pack. Using the tools tucked to his mid section he began to disassemble and reassemble a pair of improvised cleavers. "But it is my observation that most low intelligence organics are survivors and will choose to run over fighting. If backed into a corner, they will often go all out to defend themselves. We should proceed with maximum violence and extreme caution."

"Yuck. Yeah," Lora shivered. "Cuz I don't want to touch that slimy thing."

The blob was blue and the size of a huge beach ball. As it rolled through the designed felt forest, it left behind a trail of destruction. Lora sat crouched, on the edge of the gulch, shoulder to a soft wall, waiting for the blob to slither and bounce into their kill-zone.

In her hands were two scraps of fabric, filled with soil. Lora had scrapped away the fuzzy surface near a plant to find solid stone beneath. But sweeping with her hands, rooting under the fuzz, she produced a handful of sandy soil for Envy to examine. "I believe it is the most base substance we will be able find. Gather as much as you can."

Lora was highly skeptical of the plan as she sat in her hide, hefting the two powder/sand grenades and feeling the meager reserve sand she kept in her pockets. The cleaver Envy had made for her sat on the ground to her side. She wished they had more material to make a proper holster, but something about this situation did not seem desperate enough cut apart the pack she had brought along.

Was she phoning this in? Should she have insisted they observe the creature more before jumping into this plan? The strange darkness they had arrived in was still over this world. Should she wait to see if it would pass? Lora was not used to second-guessing herself. For such a long time now, she knew exactly what her next move would be and how to handle each situation. She always took even the smallest challenge seriously, but now something had changed. She had grown too comfortable in her cycle of life and death, the only change to each cycle introduced on her terms.

Lying in wait, as the blob meandered down the gulch, she couldn't help but to feel that this was so similar to the wild life she recklessly flung away in Germany. It was after that experience that she truly tightened up how she operated. And now, finally free of her curse stuck in a time loop, things felt too loose. She felt light headed and unfocused...

The blob crossed the threshold and Envy exploded up from his hiding position.

Lora knew this was coming, but the sight of the white war robot emerging from nothing, cleaver held in one hand, the other outstretched, took her aback. The blob froze, mid bounce, then reversed course. It turned to a perfect sphere and rolled back away with none of the dallying it had done before. Lora grabbed her cleaver, tucking the second grenade under her arm, and launched off the hill and down into the flatlands.

With a frightening speed, Envy was on top of the blob, slashing downward and at an angle. The first cut of the sharpened weapon stopped the blob in its tracks. The creature remained its shape, but a light slash across its surface became evident.

The blob changed color, and became slightly larger.

Envy, who had previously spoken against using his finger guns, fired three shots with his off-hand and cocked his arm back for another blow. The blob, now a pale yellow, with a slash and three mustard bruises, lurched up off the ground, directly at center mass of the robot before Lora could reach them both. The force of the collision tackled envy over off of his base, which was designed to keep him planted.

The blob generally held its shape as it engulfed the chest of the war robot, immediately beginning to dissolve white paint. Lora swept up to the robots side, hacking weakly with her cleaver, screaming for Envy to do something. She dropped the metal and pulled the tie holding her pouch. She poured the mixture over the blob. The creature began undulating around the stripped metal chest of Envy.

Tensing up and pausing its assault, the blob only missed a beat. In response, it began to spread out over more of Envy's frame. The mixture of dirt and aluminum began to smoke and hiss over the broken skin of the blob. Envy bent his head up so he could look down his supine body at the terrible damage being done by the sack of gelatinous acid. The robot held up his hand as Lora prepared to dump another grenade.

"What do I do? What should I do!?" Lora shrieked.

"The dark spot darting around," Envy pointed out, sounding as calm ever, "That's its brain."

Lora ducked down to pick up her cleaver, but by the time it was retrieved, Envy had jammed his hands into the yellow mass. With a last jolt of movement, as the acid ate its way through the connections in his arm and torso, Envy shot each remaining bullet from his fingertips at the vital organ inside the blob.

The report was not deafening, just sudden and expansive. One second the creature was taut yellow gel, the next pressure was violently released- white and black smoke trapped within. The blob collapsed.

The skin turned to a liquid and the body to ooze. The smell of burning metal and ammonia erupted off the half melted robot. Envy's actuating arm, which connected the track to his chest, broke in half. The snakeskin track collapsed back flat with a thud. The whole area sizzled from devolved chemicals.

Lora was frozen when Envy's head rotated to look at her. Splashes of acid had left pocks in his flat black face sensor, but the blob had not been able to get any higher than his neck. His head popped free from his body.

It rolled a half a rotation and settled, face down.
Chapter 44

Lora lay on her back looking up at the sky. Tucked under her arm was the detached head of Envy, devoid of any signs of operation. She had put an ear to the cold, hard plastic (or metal, she wasn't quite sure) and could hear nothing. No hum of electronics. Nothing to go on.

Alone. No more guide along the crazy journey to find this robots master, and answers. The face from the display in Piush jumped into her mind. The dark purple eyes. The perfect baritone modulation of a German voice. Envy said it was an approximation. She wondered how close they got. How was she supposed to find him?

It was when she first saw Aros's face that Envy tried to prod her into take the lead. That experience was training wheels in navigating new worlds. Envy had been gradually releasing control the entire journey. Now he had let go. Lora had been left with very little warning. Envy had not hid things from her, but there was still not a lot to go on. She was not prepared at all.

"But that's not true," She said, sitting up. Lora nearly let out a laugh as she realized how stupid she was being. She had lived over four hundred years! Four hundred years of experience dealing with, if not worse situations, ones at least as difficult. She had started companies and ran universities. She gathered, led, and cultivated a group of highly intelligent people who reshaped the political and social landscape of the entire world! The League of Two-Hundred had been her greatest accomplishment in all six lives. This short time she had been away from Earth was nothing yet compared to that. Finding a single man, in the entire universe? This would be no task too great for Lora Clark.

She stuffed Envy's head into her backpack, and just managed to fasten to top flap. Getting to her feet, she tucked heavy bag under her arm. An idea began to form in her mind as she set off.

"I'm looking for a man."

The worm swirled high above her head. Lora had gone back to the spot it had first spoke to he and stood until it appeared.

The universe is full of men. Human worlds are many.

"He travels. Have you seen a man with purple eyes traveling through the worlds?"

This is not unheard of. I would not know of a particular man that floats through the worlds.

This line of questioning was not working, so she shifted gears. "Tell me, how did your people come to exist with such an ability to create and go such distances?

It is told, when the universe came into being, a ray of essence struck the first of us, and made us what we are.

"A ray of essence?"

The original energy, which makes up existence. Some is integral to holding existence together, and some dispersed amongst all levels.

"What else did the ray of essence strike and make like you?"

I have seen other powerful beings that were also touched. Some call them gods. Some rays struck places and stopped. Some rays continue to travel, burning through all of reality, to this day.

A concept jumped out and made Lora's spine vibrate.

"And what happened when these rays struck something? Did they stop?"

Like a solid on a liquid, there is a splash. But the power remains. Many are drawn to it.

Many are drawn to it. Lora, just hearing of this possibility, was drawn to the idea. Where else would a wondering traveler be drawn? What other kind of place would Envy find worthy to document for his master? She remembered Envy mention another robot just like him, doing the same thing. Finding places like that would be both their mission. She didn't owe the robot anything, but he did get destroyed helping her. The least she could do was leave his remains in a place where the other could find him.

"That place you mentioned, that's where I wanna go," Lora told the worm. She patted her bag. "That's where we need to go."

The worm changed directions. It still circled, but began a serpentine pattern. Lower and lower to the ground it descended until its body washed over Lora, sweeping her along as it went. Like before, engulfed in pink, she nearly lost herself. But this time, she had some frame of reference for what was happening. Brushing a hand against the inside membrane, she could almost see the outside scales of the worm spark with purple light as they phased out of one world and into...

"Something else," she breathed, as pluralities of fringe dimensions, open expanses of pure thought- clustered around the fractured landscapes of space and time, flashed by.
Chapter 45

Falto stood at the edge of the opening. A path through the sand had been dug and the workers clustered away from the area. The thin military man studied the gaggle of poor workers, trying to pick out the one who called himself Tandur. He was acutely aware of the civilians' superstitions surrounding this endeavor. It seemed that anytime there were rumors of deaths associated with the Negus and his obsession with esoteric and mystical, people became irrational.

In his experience as a soldier, he despised superstition as a disease that made men second-guess themselves. It was akin to a poison. Sure, in his time he had seen some correlation between events. Once, while quelling an eruption of violence against increased tribute demands, a particular patrol element was always attacked on named days, and no other. Other patrol parties were not so lucky. It got to the point that the patrol group became complacently confident that nothing would happen to them on any other day. Falto was prescient enough to disband the squad and shuffle the soldier's lineup before anyone was killed.

The oddest part was that, until he disbanded the squad, it was true that they never got attacked any other time. Other squads were not so lucky...

A sergeant hustled down the path, through the sand, to Captain Falto's side. He stopped shoulder-to-shoulder with the older man, and gazed down into the hole.

"Emil and Penelon have assembled two squads from this local rabble. I sent your runner back to give word to the Negus. I have the remaining troops gathering what we will need to run surface operations. Do you want me to have scouts watching our back as we play in this hole?" Sergeant Olivas asked.

"We are in the middle of nowhere," Falto answered. "But, it would be foolish to leave ourselves completely blind. Send out two scouts to watch the perimeter."

"Is it your wish for me to lead the party inside? Or do you want me to run the support operations?"

"I will command the clearing operation. You will hold the support on the surface until we are done. There is no telling how large this dungeon is. Once we have it secure, the three of you can rotate while the men with books do their part. The Negus will most likely send his own men to relieve us once we have this endeavor back on track."

"Yes, Sir," Olivas agreed.
Chapter 46

Around the pool, in the bottom of the reverse tower, the squad of five pirates stood. They were spread out, rifles in hand, lights built into the hand guards splashing the walls. Each was wet up to their mid section. Charlie climbed out of the sub last. He only got wet up to his knees while making it to the shore.

The pool the sub sat in was nearly circular, several times larger than needed to fit the tourist submarine. A half crescent of beach dominated one side. The other, a sharp incline of wall rising from the waters edge. The air above was open; empty space further up than the rifle lights could reach. The subs various lights provided the majority of the illumination in the black stone interior.

A skeleton of a man lay out, bones clean, two paces from the waters edge. Charlie stood over it, looking down at the odd skull shape. The arm bones were also longer than normal. Gronk shined his rifle light on the remains for a moment, and then disregard them.

Auban stood beside a small boulder lying on the smooth, sloping shore. He put a boot on an edge and shoved, sending the similarly smooth stone sliding toward the pool. The sound of stone on stone friction was unnerving. DuKain pointed the business end of his rifle in Auban's face. The boy squinted from the light.

"Keep it tight," the older man growled.

Charlie reached down and ran a finger over the dark grey, smooth stone. He tilted his digit and let his finger nail scratch across the ultra fine grooves. He nodded his head, understanding how the rock had made that grating sound on itself, and why it was not too slick to walk on.

"Where is your ghost-prince, Charlie?" Caria asked. "Are we just climbing out, or did he say something more?"

Charlie shrugged.

"Some help he is," Gronk grumbled.

"Up," DuKain cut in. "Up and out. Lets move."

A crack and boom rocked the tower. Charlie was shocked by the unexpected sound echoing off the dense walls in the silent place. His eyes went wide, but he did not look up. The big man ran to the nearest wall as he tracked the large stones' bouncing fall downward with his ears. The others reacted nearly as fast, backs hitting the wall and crouching as the falling menace headed their way.

Splinters of minerals from ricochet began to rain down as the dislodged chunk approached. Etian threw his arms over Caria as a shield. Auban flattened on his belly while Charlie stood bolt upright. Finally the stone reached the bottom.

But it wasn't clean. Like a marble dropping to the bottom of a cup, the car sized stone bounced around violently before smashing into the half submerged vessel floating at the edge of the pool. With a flickering and slow loss of lights, the boulder sunk away with the submarine.

All was silent once again.

Until Auban started to scream.

In the darkness, Charlie brushed debris off his head. Lights reactivated and focused on the screaming pirate. The young man had blood on his hands and one side of his face. He gripped on to a large chunk of the fallen rock that had landed next to him. Auban tried to roll it away from the wall, but his hands kept slipping. His small frame was no match for the big stone.

The others tried to stop Aubans' frantic actions, and Charlie realized Gronk was beneath the rock. The blood on Auban was not his own. The rock was so large, only Gronk's feet could be seen. His rifle was pinned to the ground, by the buttstock.

"He's gone, we gotta move," Caria said in a soft voice to Auban.

"We can't leave him, we have to get him out from there! I owe it to him! Gronk brought me with him off Cyn. I can't leave him down here..."

Eitan pulled a pin and released the rifle from its stock. He slung it on his back and handed a rag to Auban. Caria took the rag and wiped the young man's face.

"I understand, but we can mourn him later. I don't know if this place is unstable or someone set off a charge to cause that rockfall," she said.

"Onward and upward," DuKain said. He shouldered his pack and moved off toward the pathway cut into the wall that wound upward. "We'll come back for him if we can."
Chapter 47

Falto lowered himself down into the pit last, dropping from the knotted rope onto the smooth stone. It was the same color and type as the stone on the outside of the structure, he determined, rubbing a hand on the floor. He stood up, the entrance room bathed in fire light, his two highly trained sergeants directing a security perimeter of the local soldiers.

Falto looked around, pleased with the foothold that had been established. Echoing, deep down, a drum roll tapped away briefly. Two more raps punctuated the still, cool air before returning to stillness.

The edge of the entrance area dropped away and Falto peeked down into the dark abyss.

"Flambeau," he said and held out a hand. A nearby torch was passed over and Falto cast it out into the chasm. Down he watched the light go, lighting the wall and pockmarks in the stone, adumbrating the spiraling ramp leading ever downward.

"Scouts forward. I want the main element book-ended by a strong wall, at least four men with shields. The rest should spread out. We will clear this oubliette so that the researchers may come in safety. Keep communication sharp. Let's move out."

With hand signals and short commands, the sergeants commanded their men into the desired formation. Two scouts advanced the main element. Falto followed behind the shield-carrying forward squad, empty handed. The rest of the soldiers held medium length spears, large square shields, with short swords at their sides. Sergeant Penelon, a big man, held a war hammer in one hand and a torch in the other.

The procession wound down the stone ramp in wide, looping orbits. On the left, the ramp dropped off sharply into the open air of the central shaft, while on the right were the occasional niches, and full open passageways leading directly away from the chamber. As each of the passages was reached by the lead element, Sergeant Penelon assigned a soldier to secure the doorway. Several hundred meters down into the reverse tower, soldiers stood alone, bathed in the light of their own torches, standing at stone thresholds to passages leading. With a view suspended in the open air of the central hub, it would look as if a snake of light was leaving behind tiny dots at regular intervals.

One soldier, pulled from the procession and left behind, stood alone and watched his unit wind out of sight. He could still see the orange glow of the parade as they continued to descend, and hear the tap of one hundred feet as they marched downward. Even with his own torch, the soldier still felt alone and anxious. The young man turned into the dark corridor to which he was assigned and stared into the blackness ahead. The briefest, lightest puff of air floated out to him, passing all over his body. The soldier entered the hallway, eyes forward, attempting to pierce the shadows. He tried not to creep as he went, as he told himself he had nothing to fear. But the self-reassurance did little for the apprehension tugging at his mind. For a moment he stopped, remembering the basics of soldering, and his vows to never leave his station until rightly discharged. A faint high whistle came from deeper down the corridor. The soldier backed up, satisfied he had scouted his assigned hall enough to know all was secure. Outside the hall, he stood on the main ramp, back to the wall, disquieted by his brief undertaking.

Falto heard a scream ahead. He didn't panic, but nodded to Penelon, who double-timed the forward element to catch up to the scouts. More staccato bursts echoed up from lower in the chamber. The captain of the company grew suspicious.

One hundred meters further down the ramp, the main element reached the scouts. One lay on the floor, foaming from the mouth, convulsing. The other danced around in the near dark, swinging a sword while his torch lay abandoned on the ground. The strong-wall of shield bearers swept past the pair to provide forward security while the situation was handled.

One of the soldiers kicked out in panic. A thick rope went flying into the void.

The shield bearers dropped their shields in a row, blocking the floor. Penelon let out a startled shriek as he smashed at the floor with his hammer. That's when Falto recognized what was assaulting them.

Snakes.

Black, the color of the stone. They looked like shadows in the firelight, fat and thick. The more Falto looked, the more he saw. They were on the walls. The ceiling. They dropped behind the shield wall and continued to bite. Soldiers screamed. A shield bearer fell and began to seize.

"Fall back!" The captain shouted to the men in front of him. He walked backward slowly, staying away from the wave of snakes overtaking his position. "Runner!"

"Sir?" a young soldier said from over his shoulder.

Penelon continued to smash snake heads as the forward element ran back up the ramp, dragging bitten men and leaving equipment behind. "Don't leave the shields!" the sergeant bellowed at his retreating men. He flung a shield back up the ramp, it skipping and sliding up the stone slant.

Falto jumped over the skipping shield. "Go up and get two casks of oil. Now! Go!" he shouted at the runner.

"Leave them Pen! Let's back out of there," Falto said to his frustrated sergeant, who was smashing at a wave of snakes and chucking swords and shields behind him.

Penelon jogged back to the island of light, away from the encroaching danger. He joined Falto's side.

"What is that?" Falto pointed to a snake held between Penlons thumb and forefinger. The body was wrapped tight up the sergeants' arm.

"It almost bit me, so I grabbed it by the neck and it latched on."

Falto drew a small knife and cut the creatures neck, through the spine. The coil on Penelons' forearm relaxed. The sergeant threw it out into the chasm.

"We're gunnna burn them out?"

Falto nodded. "It's the only way through."
Chapter 48

DuKain and Caria took the lead heading up away from the pool. The way wound around in a wide spiral. They held their rifles at the ready, lights shining along the path upward. Eitan walked beside Auban, who left his rifle slung on his chest and plodded along, head down. Charlie followed up the rear, leaving a long gap between himself and the pirates.

A minute into their walk, something whistled past Eitans head. Charlie heard a clang of wood bouncing off the stone wall. Then came another. And another. Caria let out a burst of carbine fire. Eitan, ran forward, stepped up behind Caria and fired a controlled pair in the direction of the incoming missiles.

"Cover!" DuKain growled at the group.

The four remaining pirates darted into a doorway to a tunnel leading away from the main walkway. Charlie did the same, but retreated a bit further to a doorway down hill from the main group. He killed his personal lantern he had been walking with and waited in darkness for the barrage to stop.

Near his hiding place, the sound of a clattering object rattled down the stone and came to rest at Charlie's feet. The big man stooped to pick up the item, large hand wrapping around the stem of an arrow. Charlie tossed it aside, as he noticed a flaming ball fall down through the middle of the central shaft. He turned away, putting his back against the passage wall.

Charlie shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut. Once again he was furious at himself for being thrust forward against his will, unable to put on the brakes. And now he found himself in another bad situation. Here he was, wherever this was, with no choice in the matter, being attacked in the dark. Charlie heard the clanging of metal on stone as something rolled down the ramp. He heard the voice of Eitan announce, "Smoke grenades!" as a fog covered the walkway.

Outside the threshold, Charlie could see nothing. He flipped on his lantern for a moment and confirmed a solid white cloud isolated him in.

From above, the pirates called out to him, but the big man refused to answer. He switched off his light and leaned against the wall in his frustrated desperation. That's when Charlie heard the footsteps from further down the side shaft he had found himself in. He turned the lamp back on.

Standing a few paces down the hall was Charlie Four, looking unimpressed. The second man in the passageway was the same height and build, but visibly older. While in the Islands, Charlie had let his usually baldhead grow an inch of dirty blond hair. The older version of himself who approached had no hair, but a steel grey short beard.

"Well, come on," the old Charlie said to the younger. He motioned Charlie further down the hallway.

Charlie blinked a few times and shook his head in an attempt to clear his mind. Was there something more in the smoke than just concealment? But the old man still stood there, finally turning, tired of waiting. Charlie pushed his back off the wall and followed, compelled by the shock of the whole situation and how oddly at home he felt surrounded by nothing but stone.
Chapter 49

"They must have got the big guy..." Auban said, crouched in the side passageway. The hail of arrows had subsided, but the smoke was still thick.

"Am I the only one who knows that someone is attacking us?" Eitan asked.

"They must have seen the sub surface," Caria said.

"They are disrupting our fluidity," DuKain said. "Lights off. Keep a hand on the inside wall. Let out a burst when you clear the threshold. Then we bound forward. Try to get clear of the fog. Everyone ready?"

"I'll go first," Eitan said.

The pirates, in the darkness, surrounded by smoke, swept out of their side tunnel, shooting in the general directions the arrows had come from. In a column, they rushed upward and were soon free of the bank of smoke. Eyes adjusted to the dark, they all looked up into the chasm, seeing a ring of fire several hundred meters above them. True to DuKain's plan, they stopped their bound at the next passageway that was cut into the wall.

"This place is defended," DuKain confirmed Eitans suspicion. "They've made a substantial barrier for us."

"I can't help but to think these people aren't that advanced," Caria said. "Dropping rocks? Arrows? Smoke? Fire? If they were on our level they would have shields, or walls, or even chemical deterrents. We can beat this."

"They have taken out two of us," Auban countered.

"I agree with Caria," Eitan said. "We just have to stay smart and keep pushing."

DuKain nodded. "Stay alert. Otherwise we are trapped down here."

"What about one of these tunnels?" Auban pointed deeper into the passage they had all stacked up inside.

"No fatal funnels. If they don't want us to go up- there is a reason. If they didn't want us down a tunnel, they would be protected as well," DuKain ruled.

Everyone nodded and the team moved out.
Chapter 50

The tunnel away from the action came to a dead end. But the older version of Charlie kept walking. He pulled at the edge of the stone, and like a slide-door, it glided open, revealing a chamber inside. Charlie followed without hesitation this time; he was already committed to this whole outlandish struggle.

Once inside, the door slid back shut, and the entire optics changed. Where in the reverse tower there was washed out grey and harsh, hygienic lighting, inside this chamber was warmth. Lighted candles stood atop every reasonable surface, slowly producing beads of molten wax. Three split rows of wooden pews faced a slab of stone in the front of the small room, serving as a rostrum. To the left, a wooden staircase had been carefully built in conjunction with the natural formations to allow access in and out of the small sanctuary. Natural light splashed down through the mouth of the chapel grotto, making Charlie feel safe, rather than buried, as he associated with being inside his asteroid or in the tunnel from which he had come.

The elder man sat down on a pew and motioned Charlie to do the same. Before doing so, Charlie abruptly reached out with his hand and grasped his own, older, wrist. The old eyes looked up at the younger, unsurprised.

"I'm real. I'm not a projection like the prisoner, Hyron."

"What is this? Time travel? That only works in the practical sense of passing forward in time. There is no way I could travel back in time."

"In The Five Worlds, maybe. But that is not a concrete fact in every world. Or, maybe, that is just the propaganda put out centuries ago by the scientific institutes to discourage effort being wasted on a problematic endeavor. Yet, regardless of the possibilities, the distances, or the structures, I am here. And so are you."

"You are me, or you just want me to think that?"

"That is the question I wondered before coming to you: would I believe an older version of myself? Even if it was really me, we are not the same people. The older would have an agenda. I have lived twice the years you have. You have a natural right to come to the conclusions, that I want you to arrive at, in your own honest way. So, is there a point to helping you avoid my mistakes?"

Charlie sat. "So, why did you come if you didn't think you could convince me you knew what was best?"

"I'm not going to try to convince you to do what I did, or would have liked to do. Instead I will give you the information I wish I had. Things I know now that would have made my decisions much clearer. I know you feel like you are swinging blindly in the dark."

"I feel like I am not in charge of my own destiny," Charlie replied. "I'm feeling forced along at the whim of others...

"And why would I listen to your information, same as I would your advice? Isn't anything you say suspicious?"

"I have no illusions," the older said. "But as you go on from here, you will see that what I say falls in line with what you see. Then maybe you will trust me."

Charlie crossed his arms and made a face. His older self knew he would at least listen. Both Charlies knew, that deep down, they would at least listen.

"Hyron just wants to free himself. Right now, he has been too overt and the warlord that imprisoned him will soon snuff him out. So, he will say anything to save himself. This does not make him unreliable, just desperate. Desperate enough to tell you that the fist of tropellite is still in the tomb on Yomi."

"It's not?" Charlie winced.

"A Ranger who entered a tomb after you took it, but he is doing good with it. The point is, you will not get it back."

"And you want to influence me not to help the boy, Hyron? Does he go on to do or be something that will hurt me?"

"No, these are just facts. I want you to have a leg up. Know what you don't know. Even if you don't initially trust what I reveal to you, you will still have it," the older man said. "Next, you are about to meet someone new. She is also from another world. Hyron is aware of her. The robot that is defending the tower, she will tame it. She is the only chance you have to get home."

"Home? To the tropellite that is apparently stolen by a Ranger?"

"I'm putting you back on a level playing field with everyone else. I wouldn't keep doing what others want, including myself. I was where you are. I just want you to know."

"And a robot is attacking us?"

"It's a crazy, wide multiverse. Stranger things have happened. Pre-gunpowder era soldiers are pushing downward and our short friends are going up. It's all madness, and you'd rather be in here with me."

"This doesn't lead out?" Charlie asked, pointing up.

"Yes, but no. You must go back in and meet Lora. She is your key to getting out of this."

Charlie hummed, ambivalent with it all. "Lora... Anything else?"

"I hope you come to see the things I've told you are true. I know that I said I wouldn't tell you what you should do, but I will tell you one thing you should do with your future."

The older Charlie paused, struggling with saying his next worlds.

"When faced with a choice, don't go back to The Five Worlds. There are better options you will be presented. Consider them, along with the promise I made to you that there is no tropellite waiting for you on Yomi."
Chapter 51

The oil that had been splashed out on the stone was almost fully consumed. Falto stood at the top of the coil of flames, waiting. He could hear the sizzle and pop of snake flesh crisping while the way was cleansed. The heat from the flames was intense as it was sucked up and out of the breach made into the dungeon.

Silently, Falto gave the order to the soldiers staged behind him. Six men, all carrying woven baskets filled with red desert sand, advanced on the dying flames. They spread the sand, making a trail back through the wall they had previously erected. The company advanced, slowly and on alert. The bodies of snakes littered the way.

Without scouts ahead, the forward element, much more substantial than the previous version, finally made its way through the charred area. Guided by torchlight, that seamed weak in comparison to the conflagration they had recently enjoyed, the front shield bearers came to a sudden and startled stop. A statue blocked their path.

Shields were once again planted on the ground and each man prepared himself. Falto, coming forward, watched as Penelon threw a torch at the pedestal of the statue. The leaders looked on in horror as the light of the flames bounced off the black figure.

The head was box shaped and had no face. The sculptures body was all straight lines and angular curves. No man in the group could imagine stone to be carved in this fashion. Only tangentially shaped in human image, the arms stood out and at its sides, six fingered hands pointing in the direction of the descending force. No legs could be seen, rather the torso seemed to hinge into the oddly carved base.

Then it lit up.

Red bars of light came to brightness, silhouetting the body. The pentagon, flat black face cocked to the side and deep maniacal laughter echoed out.

"Flea," the deep voice boomed up at the soldiers.

Panic swept over the soldiers. Many froze. One soiled himself. Several turned tail and began to run.

But Captain Falto absorbed them and pushed back.

"A Parlor-room gag!" He shouted at his petrified, borrowed men. "Forward! Attack! Smash that thing to pieces!"

And the men obeyed. Most turned cautiously and began forward. One fell against the wall and let the others pass. Several became alive and broke into full in spirit and broke ranks to be the first to tear the 'parlor-room gag' apart. They were the first to fall.

The statue moved its arms in a flash, sparks jumping from fingertips. The snap of the projectiles made the small hairs on Falto's whole body jump with a shiver. A soldier made it past the others, and slammed a sword into the statue's shoulder. The sword bent and splintered.

Suddenly coming full to life, the still, solid menace moved with a precise fluidity. The soldier that struck the unbreakable terror, was grasped, and thrown screaming into the abyss.

The black form slithered back on its pedestal, throwing sparks from hands as brave clusters of soldier advanced. It shrunk down the ramp and into the shadows by the time all the bravery had been exhausted. At the head of the element, the shield bearers held fast, splintered holes pecked into their wooden wall.

Sergeant Penelon retreated from the frontline to confer with Captain Falto. The first moments of their conversation consisted of silent, concerned looks. "That damn architect was right. There is the demon guarding this place."

"I thought he was a fool, or trying to malinger out here," Falto said. "But that... that I can't explain. It looked like it was made of carved metal... Those sounds it made. That was like the rhythmic knocking I heard earlier."

A casualty was being drug away from the kill zone, back through the formation. Falto stopped the soldier to examine the fatally wounded man.

"What was that?" Penelon asked. "They fell as if they were struck by bolts. But, I see no arrows, or crossbows. Just the wounds."

"I don't know, but the Negus will want to know. He thinks there are secrets down here, and this looks to be one. We must bring it back for him. Or at least try."

Penelon nodded and leveled his war hammer. "I'll lead the way. The men are spooked. If one of us does not go first, I feel they will flee," he said quietly to Falto.

The captain nodded and the burly sergeant trotted away.
Chapter 52

This is a carnival ride, Lora thought.

The ride she was thinking of used centrifugal force to pin you to the wall. You can sit 'up,' and that orientation becomes semi-normal. The air was whooshing around. Lora Clark felt like she was being launched forward, but remained in place. The worm was depositing her where she requested.

A second beyond her braking point and overwhelmed by vertigo, Lora was released. Spilling forward onto a cool stone floor, in the dark, everything was stable. It was like a switch was flipped, and all the physical sensations associated with the inter-dimensional being bringing her to a new world, evaporated.

It was pitch black and she lay on the solid floor catching her breath when a noise came from her bag. Lora did a half push-up, coming to rest on her knees and pulling the bag to her lap. She flipped open the flap and exposed the remains of her guide. She rolled the head of Envy over, so they were face to face.

His head had come to life. Nearly inaudible beeps escaped from internal makings, along with the sound of whirling components. In the dark, a small blue light kicked on. Lora's hand was pushed off the top surface as a tiny dish emerged. The light was small, but it allowed Lora to see in the oppressive dark. Pale, blue light bathed her face as she watched the robots head activate.

Lora stood and tried to look around, finding stone in half the directions she looked. She appeared to enter the world in a stone passageway. Before moving on, Lora grabbed the remaining food from the beat up bag and tossed it aside. And so, Envy's head held in both hands, Lora traveled the direction she was facing when dropped off. She took slow shuffling steps, but inched forward with the dim light.

The blue light started blinking. Lora kept walking until she realized she was no longer in a hall, but an open, albeit sloped, cavern. The light turned green.

Another light caught Lora's attention. To her left, uphill, a white light danced odd shapes on the stone floor. Suddenly the source of the light appeared, flashing all around. In a sweeping motion, it landed on her and stopped.

Lora squinted her eyes, as the light grew stronger, flooding her vision, nearly blinding her. She stood in place, holding the robot head as a pair of footsteps drew closer.

Three paces from her, they stopped.
Chapter 53

Penelon marched at the head of the formation, spiraling downward. Most men had angry resolve as they stormed after the demon that had hurt so many of their kin. It was a silent march. Men held onto their weapons with white knuckles. Eyes did not wander. Rage filled their hearts.

And then it was back.

Torchlight was nearly absorbed by the moving statues' dark color, until it was on top of the men. Sergeant Penelon was nearly able to sidestep the charging mass, and a blow with his war hammer was glancing, at best. The soldiers with shields were battered aside like bowling pins. Several men were nearly knocked into the chasm, and were pulled back to safety by scrambling buddies.

The demon had impregnated its way into the center of their formation and began to create carnage. It threw sparks from its hands, and tossed away anything in its reach. The red lights came back on and a terrible war cry was let loose.

Back on his feet, Penelon held his hammer high, and returned with his own cry. He swept past the fallen men and bashed the demon on the back of the head, causing it to pause and turn on him. A long metal arm reach back to swing on the attacker, when a sword pierced up, through the middle of its bicept.

Again the demon paused, sword lodged, metal to metal, and turned on Falto, who readied a second sword. The metal demon began to lunge on the leader of the party when it suddenly stopped.

As fast as it came, the demon zipped away, back down the ramp, through the fallen men (running over Penelon's foot as he went) and back down into the darkness.

Falto threw up his arm in triumph and screamed. Those not wounded did the same.
Chapter 54

"What is going on up there?" Caria asked as the team continued to creep up the ramp. Above them they could hear the sounds of men shouting and metal crashing against metal. Single gunshots stabbed through the commotion. The sound of a falling man, screaming as he descended, reached their ears.

"I have no idea," DuKain muttered. "Auban, scout ahead..."

Before the young man could respond, faint bars of red light zipped down around the wide loop of the tower ramp toward the pirates. The team froze, each leveling their rifles at the incoming threat. They each waited, cloaked in the darkness, for the approaching unknown to be in range for a certain kill.

The lights were moving fast, but three meters from the entrenched pirates, Eitan used his barrel light to light up the target.

By the time the image of the war robot, hunkered in a swift moving position, coalesced in their minds, it was past.

All the barrel lights flipped on, watching the black robot go. Auban let off a vain burst with his rifle, but the machine was gone. None switched off their lights. Eitan spun around and put his light up hill. They all sat still, waiting for something more to happen.

"That was a construct? Was it not?" Eitan asked.

"Could that have been part of the defense system of this place?" Caria tagged on.

"I thought these were primitives!" Auban hissed. "That looked pretty advanced!"

"You know it saw us, even in the dark. Those lights probably assist infrared cameras," DuKain said. He stood up and switched off his light. His example got everyone else to do the same. "It saw us and kept going, and so should we. Stop shooting at things, Auban. I think we are fully out of our element, and playing rough is not working. Let's get up and out of here. Stay on your toes. There might be more of those constructs, but we are losing here. We just need to move."
Chapter 55

"Lora?" a deep voice asked. The pronunciation was off. The O in her name was much deeper and more rounded. The usual indicator of a question was barely included; the name was said with greater driving force than upward inflection. The light went off her face and down to the ground. It took a few seconds of blinking to adjust.

A big man was standing in the dark, two heads taller than her. He had a worried look on his face, strange Hawaiian style clothes and a close-cropped head of dirty blond hair. He held no weapons, no gear, nothing to worry Lora. Except it all seemed very out of place.

"Who are you?" Lora asked.

The big man started to say something, something Lora did not catch, but was interrupted by a whirring sound that she immediately recognized.

Lora stepped forward, then nearly jumped backward as the black war robot rolled up on the pair. Lora shrunk back to the ground, against the back wall. The familiar robot followed her down, taking the head of Envy from her hands.

"Onyx?" Lora whispered.

The robot said nothing, but stood up straight, holding the severed head, similar to its own. The blue light on Envy's head began blinking, faster and faster, until it returned to glowing steady. Then it went out. Bathed in the one lantern present, Onyx took the head of his brother in one hand, and mashed it on the floor in four violent strikes. Lora screamed.

Picking through the splinters of liquid metal alloy, Onyx drew out a small, bronze, disk-shaped component. "I will hang onto this," the robot said in a voice that was not too dissimilar from Envy's.

"This is the device Envy used to travel through time," Onyx replied. He opened an access port on his chest and deposited the coin. "I will need facilities to equip it the way Envy did, but for now I will hold it."

"That's why Envy gave me his head..."

"Not only. I was just transferred his mappings."

"And memories?" Lora asked.

"I know everything he knew. I am integrating this data into my systems. How long after Envy's encounter with the blob did it take for you to find me? And who is your new companion?"

"Not long? I just left the worms world," Lora paused to look over at the big man holding the light. He looked confused. "This guy just walked up and said my name..."

Onyx turned on Charlie, red lights activating. The robots' hands when up. Charlie nearly dropped the light as he shouted in a half familiar foreign language. Lora felt like she recognized a word or two hidden within his protest.

Onxy let Charlie finish, then spoke English to Lora. "I can translate what he is saying, if you like."

"You can do that too?"

"Envy and I had near identical programming. The only differences are ones we have acquired," Onyx said. "His language is native to a planet called Cyn, from a distant future where humans have migrated away from Earth. I will translate in real time. Say the word and I will shoot him in the head."

Lora was taken aback, but nodded for Onyx to begin. Envy would have never volunteered to shoot someone like that. At first the robot had seemed so familiar, but she could tell some differences. Onyx powered down his red highlights and Charlie's voice, rearranged to English spoke towards Lora.

Charlie could faintly hear his voice speaking a new language to Lora, underneath of the robots voice introducing himself as Onyx and explaining the translating.

"I lost my translator! DuKain held onto it and I'm not with them anymore! I've been forced along in all this! I know you are Lora and apparently we are supposed to help each other. The kid, that is not solid, wants my help..."

"I don't know what you are talking about. How do you know my name? Who are you?" Lora said to Charlie.

The big man took a deep breath. He returned to speaking in his normal, controlled voice. The robot had relaxed and he could be understood. He began to explain.

"My name is Charlie Four. I've been... kidnapped, or something, by pirates who were after me. Then a boy, who could make himself seen, anywhere he chooses, came to me. He brought us through the pool in the bottom of this place."

Onyx joined the conversation. "That way is an endpoint for many dimensional passageways."

"Could it lead me back to the Five Worlds? I honestly just want to get home," Charlie said.

"I have not fully determined the necessary requirements for the exit from that particular interstice," Onyx answered.

"Do you know where your master, Aros, is?" Lora asked Onyx.

"No. I have been defending this tower, as I am mapping the links that tie back to the core. Now that Envy and I have merged our data, I have a much fuller map to draw from. But Aros's location is still unknown."

"Why do you need this guy, Aros?" Charlie asked Lora. Then to Onyx, "Does you saying 'map' mean you know a way to travel to the Five Worlds?"

"I could show you a way to travel to the Five Worlds, but that is not my mission. As I am now, in practicality, a combination of Envy," the robot pointed down to the smashed white head, "I will be helping Lora."

"Aros knows of a place of great power that can help me with my problem," Lora said to Charlie. "Tell me about this boy you mentioned."

"He appeared to me. He knew I was not from the Islands. He could tell I was out of place. He said if we freed him from prison, he could help me find a way back. He also said he had contacted others to come help him..."

"Sounds like the child you encountered on Daër Acte," Onyx said. "But this can all be reconciled later. We need to abandon the tower. We will not last long here. I know of an exit. Follow me."

Lora saw the desperation on Charlie's face. She had felt it before. Recently, in fact. A huge weight had just lifted off her shoulders. Now that she had stumbled upon Envy's brother, and she once again had a guide to navigating the unknown worlds. As calculating as she had become in her last 400 years, and as loose as things had gone since she had left her Earth, the comfort of a logical, ever decisive friend was a relief.

"You too, Charlie," she said. "Let's get out of this dark place. I feel like I might to run into a ghost if I stay any longer. It gives me the creeps."

Charlie gave an alleviated smile, and stifled a chuckle. Onxy turned and lead the way.
Chapter 56

The scouts encountered the pirates first. The pair of torch bearing soldiers stepped to the side and kneeled, letting out a high-pitched note on a wooden whistle. DuKain stopped his team and bunched them up in the middle of the ramp. They aimed their barrel lights at the ground, illuminating the area rather than on the incoming troops.

Caria held Charlie's translator and directed it at the scouts. A cacophony of marching feet arrived, rushing to the posted scouts. "It's still dialing in..." Caria whispered to the team.

"There is a lot of them, boss," Auban said nervously.

Leather and metal armor. Swords on waists. Short spears in hand. Torches. The soldiers had a skin tone and hair color that was nearly uniform. This was in stark contrast to the pale skin and dark hair of the pirates. Chatter among the troops aided the translator in calibration. Soon, it started functioning.

"Just wait..." DuKain said as the soldiers surrounded them.

"Empty your hands, bushes!" a big soldier bellowed at the pirates. He stood in front of the surrounded group, war hammer in hand. He motioned to his subordinates to strip them of their arms.

"Boss?" Auban asked.

DuKain nodded. He handed off his weapon to the first approaching soldier. He slowly took the translator from Caria and stepped toward the much bigger man.

"Let me get one thing perfectly clear," DuKain said to Penelon, holding up the translator with one hand. He stared right at the sergeant. "You will not address me or my people with slurs. Do you understand me?"

Penelon looked shocked, both at the boldness of the much smaller man, and the way the device in his hand re-spoke the words with clear diction.

"Now, are you in charge, or is there someone else?"

Penelon began to snarl back an answer, bringing his hammer up in a threatening gesture, when Falto stepped forward.

"Was that black metal man from you?"

"No, no. We were fighting the construct, too," DuKain answered.

"'Construct?' We have never seen anything like that before. But, judging by the look of your torches, and that thing in your hand, I'd say you had something to do with it. Did you bring it here?"

A group of soldiers were handling the rifles. They looked at the lights and held them the way the pirates did. A soldier made repeated grasps on the handle and trigger of one rifle, with no reaction.

"Biometrics, you savage," Auban spit.

DuKain stopped the translator for that one.

"I swear to you," DuKain said, putting his hand on his heart, "We have come here with goodwill, as ambassadors from another land. That construct has killed one of our envoys. We only wish to be free of this dungeon."

"Where is the construct now?" Falto asked. "You must have gotten past it? What is further down?"

"We wounded it," DuKain lied. "We managed to evade it and have been running since. We came from the bottom. You will find a pool and our comrade crushed beneath a rock on the bank."

"Take them up and hold them in the camp," Falto said to a runner. "Have Sergeant Emil come down and transfer the prisoners up with two squads. Then they can rejoin us."

"Anything else I should know about below?" Falto asked DuKain.

DuKain shook his head.

Falto nodded to his men and pointed onward. "If we find things are not as you said, I will not return a happy man."
Chapter 57

Onyx led Lora and Charlie down a side passage, away from the center of the tower. The way did not slope upward, rather staying relatively level as the three went. After several instances of turning at adjoining passageways and intersections, the way turned into sharp stone steps. The tracked robot had no trouble riding on the leading edge of the stairway and ascending fluidly. Right at the point where Lora began to feel fatigue, she saw a light surround the robot.

The trio exited the tunnel, shrouded by a stone formation, which had a path cut through the middle. This rock was not dark grey like that of the tower, rather a rusty orange. It stood out in contrast to the red sand that thinly covered the ground. Carved into the stone walls were odd symbols and hieroglyphics. Lora ran her finger into the carvings as they walked through the rocks.

"What do these say?" she asked Onyx.

"Warnings of death beyond. The threats are rooted in superstition."

"So no one goes in that way?"

"We are very remote. Any who live near this desert are quite superstitious. That, paired with the maze to which it leads, keeps most all out."

"So where are we going then?" Charlie spoke up.

"We must wait until the soldiers leave the tower. I gather that the party of soldiers I encountered was to establish a new foothold. These men were sent in the name of the local ruler, who desires resource extraction. We should seek shelter and wait for suspicion to die down on their part. Once we can enter under less resistance, we will continue to follow the path that Envy had determined would yield the most success in locating Aros," Onyx answered.

"How long should we wait?" Lora asked, stepping out into the full desert sun, running a hand through her black hair. She looked along the horizon. There were no structures as far as she could see.

"Let us continue north, away from the reverse tower," Onyx answered. "We will go deeper into uninhabited territory until we find you a place to shelter. I will go back and covertly assess the remaining presence."

"I see someone," Charlie spoke up quietly.

From the west, a figure approached the cluster of rocks.

Onyx darted away from Lora and Charlie in the direction of the approaching person.

"Wait!" Lora called after the robot. She began to run after Onyx, who was hunched and charging. The sun was in her face and the heat rising off the red sand distorted the two figures.

Charlie followed Lora and watched as the robot let out a final burst of speed as he closed to tackle the figure. There was no collision, and Onyx stopped abruptly. The figure continued walking toward Lora as Onyx shadowed him, bobbing back and forth like a sheep dog.

"That is Hyron, who I told you about," Charlie said to Lora.

"Your machine looks different from the last time I saw you," the boy said, when he got close enough to speak to Lora. "And I'm glad to see you away from the others, Charlie."

"You were that boy I saw on Daër Acte. The face is the same... You know Charlie?"

Onyx finally stood still and translated while Hyron code-switched between languages of the person he was interacting with.

"I've guided him here," Hyron said. "He was lost and I offered to help him... If he helps me."

"A way back to his home? How?"

"I can project myself where I choose. I am seen and experienced the way I choose. But I can't touch anything. It allows me to see so much, but I am powerless to physically interact," Hyron said. "I can offer you the same help, but first I must be freed..."

"I don't need to go back home," Lora said. "We are looking for someone."

Hyron nodded. "You called him Aros. I watched you in the floating city before the storm. After that I looked for him as well. His power and my power originate from the same source."

Lora felt unconvinced. "Let me guess, if I free you, you could take me to the source instead of Aros. You are the solution to everyone's problems?"

"I did not obtain the power to project from the source. My benefactor did, but I don't know where that is. There is probably an entrance somewhere here in the lands, but I'm sure the place actually exists on a different plain of existence," Hyron admitted.

"I've also been looking for Aros. I hoped I could get him to help me too. I found him for a moment, and he wouldn't help me. He said he was not a hero. He didn't want help from me either."

"Tell us where you encountered Aros," Onyx demanded.

"I will! I want to! But time is short for me. I was foolish and my captors are on to me. I doubt I'll last long. If I loose this power, I can't find Aros for you! And I'm close! I just need uninterrupted time to follow a few leads...." Hyron begged.

"If we bust you out, you will find Aros, and help Charlie get back home?" Lora asked.

Hyron nodded. "I swear to you. I swear!"

"I require proof you saw Aros," Onyx said.

"I am on his trail," Hyron said. "He moves so fast... I just visited a group of his people. They were lost from his world like him, but they had settled. He refused to stay with them. I don't know why he moved on."

Onyx nodded.

Lora looked to Charlie. "What do you think?"

Charlie shrugged. He grimaced and shook his head yes.

Lora was struck by the gesture. It lanced back in her memory, striking a nerve. It was the exact kind of answer to a heavy question that Thomas Clark would have given. Lora suppressed chills and looked back to Hyron.

"Alright, where are you at? Where are you really at?"
Chapter 58

Captain Falto stepped out of the architect's tent, late in the evening. The setting sun still felt much more cheerful than the darkness of the dungeon where he had just spent the bulk of the day. He settled his gaze on the monument, at the entrance to the deep hole, and the workers who were lowering bundles of unlit torches down into the entrance.

Sergeant Emil, a younger man with longish brown hair, rounded a tent corner and stood beside his leader.

"Did the short ones give you any trouble?"

"No, Sir. They are resting in a tent, under guard. Am I to take them to the Capital?" Emil asked.

"I'm going to go write up a dispatch for you. I have to go back to Cape, right away. I want you to take a squad and the prisoners to Sonn Lake. The Negus will be there. Present him with the prisoners and my account. If you are not given other orders, return to Cape. I'm going to try to have some other unit take over babysitting duties."

"I wouldn't mind coming back," Emil said. "If this turns into a resource worth exploiting, it might be a good place to make a name for ones self."

Falto nodded. He understood the drive of the young soldiers, who had no families and wanted to advance. Falto preferred to surround himself with Men like Emil; men enthusiastic to be doing the taxing work they were assigned.

"I've never been to the Sonn Lake palaces. Where do I go?"

"A soon as you approach you will all be taken into custody. Stay firm and you will be funneled to where you need to go. I'll keep you in mind for doing this run. If orders come down for more use of Merintill soldiers as supervision for the locals, or construction of a permanent outpost, you will know."

"Thank you, Sir. We will depart in the morning?"

"That will be fine. You will have my dispatches in an hour," Falto said and left for his tent.
Chapter 59

"Captain Falto!"

His name echoed down the pavers that lined the tunnel, leading into the Tower of Cape. Walking up hill, the old soldier could not see who had called out his name due to the bright cast of light from the tunnel's end at the main courtyard. It was an ingenious design, a long fatal funnel that forced your eyes to adjust to darkness, then to be blinded with light. A pair of soldiers stood halfway up the entrance tunnel.

"Corporal Vartan," Falto said, finally able to see the soldier. "Still here at the Tower, I see."

"Well, when you lose your rank, earning it back is about as far as one will go. So it's the Tower for me until I make it to my honesta misso."

"Sounds like you are a prisoner as well," Falto joked.

"Only difference is I get slightly better food. But then again, the prisoners get some piece and quiet at night!"

Falto aped amusement.

"What brings you up? A mission from the Governor?"

"No, no inspections or anything like that. I think I'm going to need to need to talk to the warden. I need to see a prisoner, maybe..."

Sensing the uncertainty, Corporal Vartan spoke up. He stepped forward, away from his partner and spoke to the captain in a quieter voice. Falto looked weary and out of sorts.

"I don't mean to be out of line, Sir. But what exactly do you need? Perhaps I can point you in the right direction?"

Falto looked Vartan in the face for a moment. After the miles he had traveled without stopping, and with the funny thoughts rattling around his mind, Falto's filters were thin.

"There is a prisoner here. I sent him up. And I... I think I saw him the other day? I don't know how that could be... I need to know if he is still here. But I don't want to cause alarm or have the warden think there was an escape, just..."

"Who?" Vartan took Falto by the arm and moved another step away. "Who is the prisoner you think you saw?"

"WoExperitees. I don't want to sound the alarm and have him punished. I think I just need to talk to him."

"Where did you see him, Sir?"

"Far, very far from here. More than two days ride."

"Yesterday," Corporal Vartan said. "A detachment came and picked him up. He is gone."

"Gone? On who's orders? Gone where?"

"Something underhanded is going on with all that," Vartan said. "The sub-warden, DaOrg? He has been up to WoEsperitees cell many times in the last week. Most of us think he is in the pocket of one of the Negus's special services. He was gone for three days prior. He spoke with the detachment Commander and not the Warden. It was slippery, but all that is just between us."

"Do you know where they took him?"

"No. The soldiers in the detachment, they were not the chatty type. Tight lipped youngsters. All pretty fit. Looked down on us guards. You know the type."

"I hope the men I command aren't as bad," Falto said, "But, yes, I know. The Negus's legion. Sounds to be, at least."

Corporal Vartan nodded.

"Please don't mention I was here," Falto said. He clapped Vartan on the shoulder.

"Not a problem," Vartan said. He switched back to a normal volume. "Just remember me if you ever find yourself at thirty-two and need a corporal to round out your unit!"

Falto laughed, and nodded his head. "You men stay vigilant up here! I will make sure the Governor hears good things!"
Chapter 60

The grand observatory deck was wedge shaped with two walls made transparent. The guests wore their best formal linens, not gaudy, but simple and clean. The floor alternated between petrified wood and short carpet. Background music floated amongst the clusters of subdued guests. Drink carts circulated through the room. The mood was relaxed as passengers came and went.

A single man stood at the midpoint between the two adjoining view walls. He held his hands behind his back and stared out into the darkness. A few pinpoints of light gave depth to the blackness beyond, but for the most part, there was nothing visual to see. The lights on the deck dimmed and the casual conversations ended.

An announcer spoke over the music with a smooth voice, describing what the ships sensors were highlighting. Bursts of colors flooded the room, reflecting off of the pristine surfaces, faces, and fabrics. Washes of cerise and amaranth gave way to zaffre and glaucous.

Ranges of colors indicated the density of elemental clouds, invisible to standard vision. The ship on which the passengers stood, sailed through the drifting, diffuse mass. Far away, bright spots were in the process of developing into brilliant clumps of celebrity. The spectrum shifted once more- new greens blooming where nothing previously occupied.

The man standing alone at the apex suddenly had a visitor. Standing slightly forward and to the right, the younger man stared desperately into the face of the other. Colors danced off both of their faces.

"Aros..."

"I've said no, Hyron. I have helped by telling you what you needed to know."

"I found the priest in Inleaf City. He will have someone come to pick you up..."

"My key will only work so many times. I'm not willing to use it for this," Aros said. His face was expressionless. He gazed out on the space beyond. His white hair changed color with the display.

Hyron stood silently, begging with his eyes. One tried to ignore the other, but the show ended and the lights came up. With the retreat of the shadows and spectacular colors from the viewing, bruises around the eyes and face of the young boy became apparent.

Aros's eyes flicked over at the face.

Hyron disappeared.

Unfolding his hands, Aros took a deep breath. He turned and walked from the room.
Chapter 61

Jonru descended the stone staircase and went left down a sidewalk. To his right was a short stone wall, keeping pedestrians from tumbling down the steep drop to the homes below. Fifty meters down was another stair, which would take him to the streets below.

The night sky was just beginning to darken. Torches around Cape had been lit and fireflies added to the bright feeling. But the way was still full of shadows and gloom.

As the sub-warden of the Tower of Cape turned to descend the final set of steps to the lower city, a man was coming up. Thinking nothing of it, Jonru paused to allow the man to pass. Instead, the man swept into Jonru, forearm going to his throat and knife poking him in the belly.

Jonru was pushed backward into the wall of rock, and held firm by the tip of the blade.

"What are you waylaying me for?" Jonru shrieked.

"Sub-warden DaOrg?"

"You can skewer me if you want, but I can't release anyone from above! I am administrative only!"

"I know exactly what your role entails. Including your extra activities," the man said, removing his arm, but not the knife that was poised below his navel.

"Well then?" Jonru demanded.

"I am Captain Falto of the Governors Thirty-three. You will tell me exactly what I need to know or I will lead a squad of men to your home in the middle of the night and cut out your tongue in front of your children. You will find yourself a prisoner up in that tower for the rest of your days with the charges I will bring against you."

"I've done nothing!" Jonru protested.

"I don't care. Tell me about the WoExperitees boy or I will make it look as if you have done everything," Falto threatened.

"Is this official work of the Governor? Are these the tactics of lawful policy?"

"Everything I do is the official work of the Governor. We buried the WoExperitees boy in a similar fashion. Don't think we don't do exactly as we please."

Jonru shuttered. "What? What about him? They took him yesterday."

"Who?"

"Ossin of Negus Vabrin's Special Services. He's a shadow."

"To Sonn Lake? Why?" Falto renewed the pressure with the blade.

"He has become a renewed thorn in the side of the Negus. He couldn't help himself by staying forgotten in the tower. The Negus will tear him apart to find out why."

"He is special," Falto said. "Turning up places he is not supposed to be?"

"To you too? Renault must have taught him nothing."

"Renault?"

"Another prisoner. From a far off land called Castt. He must have passed it on. He died recently and they were adjacent."

"How do they do it? Escape from the tower?" Falto asked.

"That's the question. They never escape, but they are seen about. Renault stopped causing trouble years ago. Then he died and the boy was seen in the same way..."

"And the Negus has an eye for that sort of thing..." Falto mused.

He pulled the knife off of Jonru's stomach and pointed it at his nose.

"Things like this should not be kept from the Governor's attention. If you inform for the Negus, you will stay true to Merintill and tell your own people as well. Don't let me catch word we are not shared with all you share with our just rulers," Falto said. "Are we clear, Sub-warden?"

"Yes. I see. I did not intend to betray my countrymen, I just..."

Falto smacked Jonru with the broadside of the blade, just hard enough to cut off his speech. The Captain left, leaving Jonru in place, shocked by the aggressive encounter.
Chapter 62

The ceilings were high, held aloft by tall columns that went spiraling up into the perpendicular stucco. Walls were not present, only purple curtains separating the outside from the inside. Each corner had a fire bowl with flames flapping in the gentle afternoon breeze. Four older men and one woman sat around the room in high backed chairs that were somewhat facing each other. Attendants stood beside and behind the chairs, taking notes or passing notes to the other seated officials.

A man, generally the same age as the others, entered into the room, one attendant in tow. He crossed the room with confidence, his short white hair and glasses making him look much less manicured than the other who were seated. He stopped in the center of the group and addressed an older man with the most decorative chair.

"Hello Master Corgen. Good afternoon, everyone."

"Ossin," the woman acknowledged. "What brings you to us from the east?"

"A situation has developed. I know the Negus would be interested in what I have discovered."

"Which is?" Master Corgen said, handing off a scrap of paper to an attendant.

"It seems the prisoner Renault of Castt has passed off his abilities to another. A young man. One that could possibly be influenced in ways the former was not. I know with the renewed charter of investigation which the secret service has been given as of late, this should be something to be developed."

"We have other things on our plate," one of the others said. "I suppose you have head of the exploration of the dungeon out your way? The one in the desert?"

Ossin nodded. "I dispatched the governor of Merintills' men to lead the project. But that site is further from my post at Zernes than the Capital is to Zernes. It could hardly be considered, 'out of my way.' Were there results?"

"Short men that speak differently were found inside," Master Corgen said, ignoring the geographic semantics. "They look to be from far away, possibly confirming the stories from one hundred years ago,".

"Did they have weapons or tools with them? Was there anything else found in the dungeon?"

The woman spoke for the group. "There were weapons found. They are similar to a relic we have recovered. But the weapons of these strangers will not work for us. Their leader says he would trade us secrets, but wishes to only speak with the Negus directly."

"All that is fantastic, but what I have necessitates immediate attention. This boy is extremely dangerous. He will need to be brought to an understanding or dispatched. He can see anything he wishes. He could pass on valuable information to our enemies. I have him distracted now. He sleeps only when we let him under the influence of a powerful cocktail."

"Canicud is taking the lead. Come to an agreement with him," Master Corgen said.

"Let me go with Ossin to the dungeon and look in on this boy. We may be able to juggle in another project," the woman argued.

Corgen nodded.

The woman scribbled a final note and left her seat. Her attendants stayed, save one who followed behind. Ossin turned and followed her out of the great room.

"I don't believe we've met," Ossin said as the pair walked across a stone pavilion.

"Probably not. I am Darla Knar. I know who you are: Garris Ossin. You were considered for the shadow council at one point. Before I was a member... Why was it you were sent to Zernes?"

"Negus Braxilon had a dislike for me. He had forgotten me until I rose through the ranks and was considered for the council. It triggered his memory and he vetoed the appointment," Ossin said.

"And you were not reconsidered when Negus Vabrin came to power?" Knar asked.

"You had filled the position and none of those old codgers will quit or die. Plus, this new Negus does not know me."

"And you hope that after this he will. And with Canicud getting into his seventies..."

"That's not why I am pushing hard for the boy," Ossin said. "I truly see this as an issue we must handle before it escalates."

Ossin stopped walking and put a hand on Knars' arm.

"I know about our Negus. His little family he is playing with. This boy is the eldest son of the runner WoExperitees, who's family the Negus has poached. This boy was no threat locked away in a tower, in another country, but now..."

"Alright," Knar said, leading the way into the building where the shadow council kept its prisoners. "I understand. It's why I agreed to come. This Negus poses certain challenges. And we are set with the task of protecting him in our own way.

"His fascination with the unnatural is a true boon to us, though. We have been given more authority and resources to draw from. We have been developing all sorts of new avenues. Like in here," Knar stopped and pointed in a cell.

Ossin peeked through the bars on the cell door to see a long rectangular box lying deep in the cell. When his eyes adjusted to the dark, he noticed the box was wrapped in heavy chains.

"Inside is a man with a very peculiar disease. He was captured from a land far to the north. His ailment makes him allergic to the sun and lethargic unless he drinks human blood."

Ossin turned to Knar, giving her the strangest look.

"Oh, it's true. Usually men like this are quickly dismembered when they are finally caught. All feelings of guilt and inhibition leave when the disease takes hold. This one killed half a town before it was discovered what was going on."

"And the chains?" Ossin asked.

"He is strong," Knar grinned.

She moved on.

"Where are the short people from the monument?"

"The have been housed in better comfort for the time being. The Negus has only just returned from a tour. He is opening the floor to business, starting tomorrow. Perhaps he will make a decision what to do with them in the next few days. I assume your boy is down here?"

"Last cell," Ossin confirmed.

The pair approached the door and observed the room. Inside, a scrawny boy sat on a pile of blankets. His face was bruised and dried blood crept from a hidden cut inside his hairline. His eyes were open, and they were red. Dark rings looped under the drooping lids. The boy stared off at nothing, but looked around the room slowly.

Hyron looked out of the cell door at the two figures that stopped to observe him. Ossin stepped forward and called to one of the two guards in the room. The guard stepped to the door.

"Yes, sir?"

"How has he been doing?"

"Just as ordered. We have not let him close his eyes. If he does, we wake him back up. He is being kept awake for sixteen hours at a time. That potion after, and four hours to sleep," The guard said.

"And you both are watching him? No slip-ups?"

"None, Sir."

"Good. Keep it up," Ossin said to the guard.

"I'll be back to talk to you soon, Hyron," Ossin spoke to the boy.

Ossin and Knar left the cell and returned the way they came.

"He looks harmless. He truly can do what Renault of Castt could?"

"He tried it with us when I drug him out of the Tower of Cape. As long as you keep his eyes open, he can't imagine himself somewhere else. The reports of Renault said the same. In fact, this treatment was prescribed for him. I've only adopted it."

"I'll bring this up to the council. Perhaps we can have you present the finding. There is a sergeant who came with the short people. He was inside the monument. He will also be presenting to the Negus. You might like to hear what happened inside."

"I am very interested in the status of their exploits out in the desert."

The pair exited the building and turned to each other.

"Thank you for hearing my argument and seeing the boy," Ossin said.

"I am the youngest of the shadow council. I will need to build relationships with other members of our organization. It is nothing for me to hear you out. And in this case, I am sure you are right. This is our charge to find instances like these. We will bring it forth tomorrow," Knar said.

Ossin nodded in appreciation. The two parted ways.
Chapter 63

The weapons were laid out on a table, along with packs, and all of the items brought along by DuKain and the team. The translator was not on this table, rather carried by an older man with no hair and a large white beard. Two guards stood by the table, hands on short swords, dissuading any of the milling courtiers from touching the confiscated weapons.

Sergeant Emil stood between the Negus's throne and the table, trying to maintain his soldierly composure and not appear awkward amongst those of a much higher class. He waited patiently, as he had never been in the presence of the Negus, or in an informal session held like this.

Ossin walked into the hall and wound through the chin-waggers to find the man holding the translator. As Canicud ignored him by speaking intently in whispers to an attendant, Ossin looked over the table. He sucked at his teeth as he finally grew tired of the evasion.

"My dear Canicud, am I to have any time to address my findings to the Negus today?"

The member of the Shadow Council finished his words and turned to Ossin. He spoke in a quite, deep, gravely voice, with a broad look in his eyes. "Your issue is quite valid, but the first topic is more pressing. We will see how long the Negus will want to hear of such maters. We can bring up more than one if there is time. But historically, the first session the Negus holds while on holiday is short. The longer we stay, the more he will grow bored of leisure. So hold tight, man. All will be addressed in time."

"If I had a minute to just explain the pressing nature..."

Canicud cut Ossin off as royal guards entered from the rear of the hall, heralding the beginning of the session. The courtiers began assembling themselves in front of the throne, most wishing to be noticed by the Negus. A wide area down the middle of the hall was maintained empty, save for Canicud, awaiting the arrival.

A woman, tall, slender, with dark curls wrapped up on the top of her head walked in first. She wore a pale green dress and a look of exhaustion. Walking slowly, she stood in front of the throne and spoke in a loud, but unstrained voice. She spoke robotically, unimpressed with her own words.

"Each of you! Please us all, and kneel with me in reception of our gracious host. Just back from the frontlines of the rebellious lands of Akosua, visiting his loyal commanders, we are elevated by Andres Vabrin, Negus of Meravs, Srechko, Dvonko, Merintill, Tsisia, and all of Akosua."

Everyone in the room dropped to one knee, some slower and more deliberate than others. As the Negus entered the room, all in attendance rubbed their hands together. Hoots erupted from around the room at random, a gesture the Negus responded to positively.

The middle-aged man with dark skin and golden hair smiled broadly. He held open his arms to those kneeing before him as if open for embrace. Negus Vabrin wore a purple robe with a black shirt beneath and brown leather knee high wrapped sandals. He had two long patches of hair growing above his lip and under his nose. The waxed mustache ran toward the corners of his mouth, but only anchored at the one place. Below his lower lip was another long patch of golden hair, which was also waxed into an upward arching hook. When he spoke, it was with a lisping tenor that betrayed much of his character.

"Helen, Helen! What wonderful words! Rise my friends, rise," the Negus said. He ushered the woman away to his left side and took a seat on his throne.

"Cold! It is cold here by the lake!" the Negus began, speaking to no one in particular. "Perhaps it is just me and I have not fully recovered from going all the way out to the mountains of Akosua. Such a long journey... Beautiful country, but not as ideal as we have it in Meravs by-the-Sea."

An attendant brought a blanket and the Negus wrapped it over his legs.

"But I am glad! Glad to see you have all come out for some respite from the Capital. I know I am ready for some rest. Some time away! Ha! I know there are never ending issues that the Retinue itself cannot handle. And so even on my holiday, after that stressful trip to Akosua, where I was badly needed, I will sacrifice and sit with you all for a few hours each day. I know there are plenty who wish to speak. I have heard whispers of most things. Many have tried to bend my ear in the days since I have arrived, but I must remain firm! One at a time - at the proper time! The month I will stay here will afford opportunities for most all before we return to the regimented process back at the Capital.

"So come now!" the Negus clapped twice, "Let us begin. I ask Member of the Shadow Canicud to speak first. What updates have you on the men I sent out to the temple of the desert in Tsisia? The stories from many generations ago pointed to that place holding significance. A we have a document written by a king of that small kingdom of old. It recorded that a great hunter, Greandat Def Bard, entered this temple and descended to its depths. He returned to his king, claiming to have seen many curious things."

"Yes, Negus," Canicud replied. "A scouting party found a place that matched with the old accounts and an architect was dispatched with a team. Work was slow until a before your Akosua tour, when the correct decision was made to have immediate results.

"With the collaboration of the Shadow Ossin, in Zernes, a team of soldiers was dispatched to the site. Captain Falto, the commander of the Govener of Merintill's personal forces, entered - what they described as a dungeon. Commanding local Tsisian soldiers, they encountered resistance, and five men died. Several more were wounded."

The Negus was sitting forward in his chair. "Resisted by what?"

Canicud stepped to the side and pointed to Sergeant Emil.

"My Negus, I am Sergeant Bagis Na Emil, eighteenth of the Govener of Merintill's Thirty-Three. I was with Captain Falto as we entered the oubliette..."

"Oubliette!" the Negus burst out. "What a Merintilli word! Go on, go on Sergeant."

Emil resumed.

"We entered the oubliette to find a dark passageway that wound around a great chasm. We descended in the dark, like we were going down from a great tower. The company was attacked by a horde of serpents, which we burnt out with fire. When we were able to continue, a black demon attacked the forward echelon. While the soldiers under our command fought valiantly, many fell to its magic."

"Magic?" the Negus asked in awe.

"The demon was impervious, my Negus," Emil said. "Sergeant Penelon, a beast of a man, hit it with a large hammer, to no noticeable effect. Men rushed in waves, and before they reached their target, the demon dropped them with the pointing of its hands."

"And the short ones you found deeper down? They know of this demon and it's magic?"

Canicud stepped forward and took over for Emil.

"Captain Falto's official report said that without warning, the demon withdrew, possibly overwhelmed. The three men and one woman that were captured below claimed the demon was also harassing them. They had the weapons you see before you. They appear to function, but we have not been able to make them work. We expect they are only able to be used by their owners."

"These weapons," the Negus said, rising to inspect them up close, "Look very much like the ancient one we have in our collection. You expect these also spit metal pellets?"

"Yes," Canicud said. "The pellets in these weapons are much smaller than the old wooden one. But they are quite similar in concept."

"And the small men? What did they say? What were they doing down there? Will they tell us how these things work?"

"The leader of the short men said he would be pleased to help us, but only first if they gain an audience with you."

"They are being held here at Sonn Lake? Well, of course I will speak with them. I must know this whole story. I want to know how to create weapons like theirs. Previous attempts have been made to copy the old wooden weapon, but with no success. That is what we wish to accomplish with these enquiries!

"Young Sergeant! Finish your tale. What else was found in your oubliette?"

"Negus," Emil said, stepping back forward. "After the short people were arrested and brought to the surface, the entire structure was secured. No sign of the demon was found. A short man was found crushed to death beneath a large stone at the bottom. Another skeleton was found. In the center of the base, there is a deep pool. Men were posted all around the oubliette, to monitor the hallways leading away from the central chasm. The architects' team began its documentation when I secured the prisoners and brought them here."

"Yes. Yes!" the Negus said. He placed a light hand on Emil's shoulder and looked over the table again. "Well, I must meet to these men and woman! Sergeant, bring them over! My dear Helen and I will take a moment to eat and drink and we will be back to learn more from these mysterious short people!"

"Negus, if I may," Ossin said, attracting all eyes to where he stood on the far side of the display table. "Before you recess and interview these people, might I bring to your attention a pressing matter?"

Canicud gave Ossin an angry look. Negus Vabrin just looked at Ossin with a blank face.

"It has to do with a prisoner in the Tower of Cape by the name of Renault of Castt," Ossin added.

"You are the Shadow at Zernes, are you not?" the Negus asked.

"I am, Negus."

"No, no," the Negus flapped his hand. "There will be time for that later. I will speak with the short ones first."
Chapter 64

An hour later, the room had a very different composition. The guard force had doubled, and the table of confiscated weapons had been removed. Losing interest in the proceedings, roughly half of those previously in attendance had failed to return. The Negus was now pursuing a hobby and all favor granted by an initial appearance was long past.

The pirates stood in a line perpendicular to the throne. A soldier stood behind and above each of the much shorter foreigners. DuKain and the others had been given new clothes and by their hygiene, one could tell they had been housed well.

As the Negus entered the hall, this time to much less fan-fair, those not engaged knelt. The four pirates bowed deeply. The Negus was tickled at the foreign gesture.

"I for one would never call you bushes, at least to your faces!" the Negus began. "Point to fact..."

DuKain interrupted. He stepped forward and pointed to the translation device Canicud held. "Nigus," the pirate said, heavenly accented.

The ruler, unaccustomed to any interruption, was a bit stunned, but motioned to Canicud to hand over the device.

DuKain received the translator and made some selections before speaking much differently than anyone in the room was used to. His voice was muffled by the device and transferred across to the intended recipient.

"Forgive my interruption, my dear Negus," DuKain said. "But I wanted us all to hear every one of your words without difficulty. Please, continue!"

"So strange, so strange. You have that white thing there to speak for you and I... I have never heard someone who speaks so completely differently. Plenty of men have ways of talking that gives away where they grew, but all can be understood. At least in the civilized lands that I rule over."

"Perhaps it is because we are from much further away than anyone you have ever met, Your Greatness."

"And that is the central question here, then!" the Negus said. "You all were found at the bottom of a hole cut into the ground - in the middle of an unoccupied desert. And under suspicious circumstances! With you were many things of which we have never seen. Better things, I cannot say, but much different than we know. And your height is curious. For you and I, dear sir, appear to be of similar age. And yet you are half my height."

"Where we come from, there are many people who are of a similar stature," DuKain said with a smile. "Larger men exist as well, but it is generally known that grotesque size denotes a small intelligence and civility."

The Negus barked out a laugh.

"Fair! Fairly said. And what land would that be from? I have maps that track far and wide. I am a bit of a geography student. Which land do you fair from? Cep Medik? Further?

"I am from a land called Cyn. So are these two. The woman is Caria, and her close companion Eitan. The lad is Auban. He is not from Cyn, but a place called Balius. We had another of our number we lost in the depths of that dungeon. He was also of Balius."

"And your name?"

"Forgive me, Negus," DuKain said, spreading his hands. "I am Elias DuKain - the leader of this band."

"And what do you do? What employment brings you to the backwater of Tsisia? Treasure hunters?"

The Negus moved from leaning forward to a sideways sitting position, with one leg draped over the arm of his throne. In this relaxed position, the Negus was rapt as DuKain spoke.

"I am no treasure hunter, by strict definition! I am a merchant. I search the lands for routes to bring the best of goods, services, and new ideas from one place to another. I had been given word by one of your princes that there was much potential in these lands for the right kinds of ideas to take hold."

The translator used a word that made the Negus squint.

"I have no Dauph. My wife and her offspring have no title. Soon, I hope to have a Dauph of my own to pass along my title and power to. And so, it could not be a Dauph from my lands who urged your exploration here."

"Ahh, well then forgive me Negus, there must have been some misunderstanding,"

DuKain said, backing away from that point. "It is of no consequence anyhow, as we are here now, and the only way I know is forward."

"What kind of things would you bring for us? Ideas and trade between our two lands? We would be using the passageways that brought you to Tsisia?"

"I would happily work to facilitate any trade between my people and yours. Should the way we came by be difficult to backtrack, I would be happy to remain and assist in anyway I could. I'm sure you would find myself, and my team of course, as excellent resources for all kinds of ideas that may not yet have occurred to your own advisors," DuKain smiled slyly.

"Such as those blackened weapons you had with you? We had found a similar one a long time ago, but its secrets could not be unlocked."

"Our weapons are quite complex," Caria spoke up. "I'm not sure we could reproduce..."

DuKain cut off his second in command with a smile.

"Well, that's not totally true, I believe. May I see this other weapon?"

The Negus nodded to Canicud, who pointed to a guard, who left the hall to return with a wooden-stocked battle rifle. He carried it over to the pirates, confirmed with the Shadow, and handed it over to DuKain.

As the pirates looked over the old, worn, rifle, passing it down the line, the Negus spoke.

"It of course, no longer functions. Some of our alchemists attempted to recreate the black sand found inside, but there was no success.

"It's an old explosive slug thrower," Eitan said to his group, untranslated. "They don't have gunpowder yet."

"Could we make this tech happen?" DuKain asked.

"Sure, we could pull that," Eitan said. "Electromag rail carbines like ours? That's way too far off, for these people. Probably even liquid chemical projectiles..."

"Even just that could set us up pretty well..." Auban chimed in.

"My Negus!" DuKain said, breaking from his huddle and handing the rifle back over to the guard. "That weapon you have there is old as you say. Out of date and quite ineffective. But you are in luck, as my associate, Eitan, is an expert in all forms of engineering and weapon construction! We could show your smiths and chemists how to make rifles like that which you have shown us, but much more powerful and dependable!"

"You could show us to make these?"

"Without doubt," DuKain said. "We will have to gather some elements and have the proper staff, but these things and more are possible."

The room went quiet after this exchange as the Negus considered the foreigners before him. He looked to Canicud, who gave an imperceptible nod. The Negus broke the silence.

"We will work together, and if the rifles are as successful as we can all hope, there will be quite a future here for you, DuKain. But you will continue to speak with my people, here," the Negus motioned at Canicud. "I'm sure they will want to know all about the lands you came from and what you know of the demon that lurked in the Tsisian desert."

"Yes, of course, Negus," DuKain said, again bowing. "And if you like, I would love to dine with you, should you accept guests. I am sure I could provide many tales of my homeland which may interest you."

Canicud was about to step forward and rebuke the forwardness of the request when the Negus smiled broadly and spoke for himself.

"Much like an ambassador, you are! I myself served as an ambassador to a land in the south across the sea, prior to ascending to the title of Negus. I would very much enjoy hearing a tale or two over a dinner while we are here at the Sonn Lake retreat. I will have you summoned some night. For now, begin your project. I am excited to see these rifles of yours in action."

Sensing the end of the encounter, Ossin once again put himself forward, but to no success. The Negus rose and walked from the chamber with his guards and staff in tow. The room erupted in personal conversation and Ossin tried to speak loud enough to be heard, but not shout. Canicud intercepted him, pulling him away from the Negus's notice.

"Stop, Stop. There will be time for that another day."

Ossin flashed with anger.

"I spoke with Knar and she agree that this was of critical importance!" he hissed. "The Negus needs to hear this."

"Not in open court. Not in front of his wife. Today is not the day for this and the two of you are the only ones who find this boy to be time sensitive," Canicud said coldly. "I will put it to the Negus's abettor and await an answer. Until then you will monitor the boy and await a decision."

"And how long is that to take?"

"I know you think you are on the same level as us on the council, but don't fool yourself. We were each selected to take charge of our order. You were passed over, and yes, you may take one of our places soon, but not now. Do not go against us, or you will sour the whole council. We do have a say in our own composition, you know."

Ossin pulled away from Canicud and stalked from the room, leaving the older man standing in place. Canicud shook his head and motioned to the soldiers standing by. DuKain held up the translator and made a questioning face, but Canicud declined to relinquish the item.

The pirates were lead from the room, now being escorted rather than transported, by Sergeant Emil and a handful of soldiers. On their way out, Captain Falto, looking travel wary and rough, entered the hall. Sergeant Emil paused to speak with his superior as he ushered the group past him.

"Find me when you have a minute?" Falto said to Emil looking curiously at the pirates, who struck him as pleased, and were talking excitedly amongst themselves.

"Yeah, I'll get you caught up as soon as I'm free," Emil said, resuming his task.

The hall began to clear out, leaving Captain Falto standing nearly alone in the threshold of the large doors leading to the chamber. The old soldier scratched his head, and turned to leave. All that were left were attendants, cleaning up from the brief affair.
Chapter 65

It was full dark by the time Sergeant Emil had finished his duties and cleaned up. He walked out of the grey stone building that held his temporary quarters, and walked across a wide square. The wind off the lake had a clean smell, but added a bit of cold to the otherwise pleasant night.

Torches lit up the area around the square where clusters of people sat around pyres drinking, with servants on hand. Emil looked out at the water, flat and black, where several large ketches were moored. With sails compressed and wrapped, the large craft bobbed gently on their anchors. On board, minor lords caroused, celebrating the month long splurge that the Negus put on every year at his Sonn Lake retreat.

Reaching a long stone building, similar to his own, but closer to the center of the compound, Emil stopped to confer with a guard. "Do you have a Captain Falto housed here?"

The guard, unarmed but for a club, searched his tally. "Second floor. Red door, white trim."

Emil nodded and went to the stairs.

Down the hall, Sergeant Emil found that the door he searched for was left open. The room was lit and Captain Falto sat at a small table, reading over papers. As the younger man entered, Falto looked up and offered him a seat.

"I'm surprised to see you," Emil said. "You took care of your business in Cape and came out here?"

"My business in Cape sent me here," Falto said, setting the pages aside. "But more on that later. I see you were received well? And you were presenting our account to the Negus?"

"Yes. The dispatches were entered with the commandants' office. I was left in charge of DuKain and the others. We only had to wait three days to present to the Negus. They've been kept well, the short ones. Housed much better than most prisoners. And the Negus was excited to hear from them. They have promised to help construct weapons similar to the ones they held."

"That does not surprise me," Falto nodded. "The rebellions in Akosua seem to reignite every few years. To be the Negus who firmly brings that country into the fold would be a great achievement..."

Falto went silent and put a thumb to his lips.

"You have been here three days," he began. "You have seen most of the Sonn Lake compound?"

"Yes," Emil admitted.

"I know this is the year round home of the Shadow Council and a retreat for the elite. The council keeps artifacts and projects here?" Falto asked.

Emil furrowed his brow. "I suppose. I've mainly been in my room or overseeing the interviews with DuKain."

"In the prison building?" Falto asked.

Emil nodded.

"Have there been any new additions recently?"

"I'm on the second level, but I know some work has been going on down on the first level..."

A loud pop, followed by crackles, off in the distance, interrupted the conversation.

Both sat for a moment as several successive pops echoed from a similar distance.

"That didn't sound like DuKain's rifles," Emil said.

"No..." Falto agreed.

A trumpet sounded in three long bursts, and was answered by another.

Both men jumped up and made for the door. Falto grabbed his belted long sword and they ran toward the exit.
Chapter 66

In the depths of Onxy's processors, logic and optimization were undergoing a radical rewrite due to the recent inclusion of Envy's memories. The new data had to be considered. Onyx could access his previous setting prior to this new inclusion and could spot the dissimilar inclinations between the two. Onyx wondered if his penchant to select a violent solution to a problem had to do with some latent fragment of his previous designation. While his processors, programming and experiences were all new, it was only the physical hardware that had been used as a battle robot. Perhaps the difference that he was now experiencing between himself and Envy had to do with the amount of action each unit had seen previously.

Regardless of the possibility of inferential residual programming, Envy's priorities and formulations would only be adopted if they were of a beneficial origin, and had not been previously considered. Where Envy had essentially considered Lora Clark to be his default master in the absence of Aros, Onyx did not. He viewed his assistance of Lora Clark and her mission as a step in the direction of completing his own objective. He was set on returning to Aros and giving all the data the pair of robots had compiled.

When Lora and Charlie had come up with a plan to rescue Hyron, Onyx conceded to limit violence against the locals, but did not plan to honor the agreement. Onyx had his own priorities in self-preservation. By the war robots logic, maximum violence and cultivation of fear in the opposition forces would minimize chances of reprisal. This would increase survivability.

Parked in the shadows, Onyx scanned with broad-spectrum vision, selecting targets. In a close-by building, his sensors picked up cells, some occupied, some not. Hyron had provided to Lora and Charlie the location of his anchor, but it did not seem to be in the building that caught Onyx's attention at present.

Using an aperture on his palm, Onyx lit the wicks on several recently made, crude, firebombs. Swinging his arm like a trebuchet, the blackened robot flung the ordinance toward his selected targets. As soon as the last was released, Onyx zipped across the corner of the square and to the wall of the building he had previously been examining.

Closer, focusing his detectors, he found a moving body locked inside a box, lying on the floor. Punching with both arms, Onyx breached a hole in the stones. Without entering, he grabbed the box and dragged it from the rubble. Closer scanner confirmed no heat signature.

Around the robot, chaos erupted. Men and women screamed when firebombs exploded unexpectedly. Trumpets, sounding the alarm, echoed around the compound. The calm, quiet evening had suddenly turned into confused panic.

Tearing the chains from the box and ripping away a section of the top, Onyx released the prisoner inside. Wide-eyed and furious, a dark skinned man with orange hair gushed from the box. He starred in confident horror at the hellion before him.

A squad of soldiers appeared behind Onyx in a half circle. The armored men had weapons drawn and stood in an attack formation, mustering the nerve to attack. For the moment Onyx ignored them, instead looking at the man he had just freed.

"What are you called, friend?" the robot asked in a quiet voice.

With raised eyebrows the man answered in a growl, "Eigengrau."

Looking past the robot at the soldiers assembled, the newly freed Eigengrau leaped upward, over the top of the fresh hole, and scampered with ease up the face of the tall wall. He went over the edge as Onyx turned, hunched over, on the soldiers surrounding him.

Straightening up to full height in a purposefully jerky motion, Onyx let out a booming cackle, and lit up his crimson highlights. Facing the men in full stature, the war robot let out his distorted battle cry.

"Flee!"

And flee the soldiers did. Each scattered in unplanned directions, one pair colliding in their panic. One soldier, a tall blonde man, stood petrified. Onyx zipped forward and seized him by the throat, and immediately threw him forward, striking another retreating man.

From atop the prison building, Eigengrau perched on the roof looking down at the madness that was unfolding. With a devilish grin he watched the war robot wreak havoc on his former captors. Eyeing a soldier lying incapacitated below, white fangs slid from the man's teeth and his eyes turned darker than his skin. As Onyx tracked off toward a cluster of wounded courtiers, Eigengrau slipped down to ground level to cause his own mayhem.

Sergeant Emil burst into the pirates lavish second floor containment suite. DuKain, Caria, and Eitan were on their feet, waiting for someone to come in and tell them what was going on. Auban lay on a bed, arms crossed. The sounds of screams and the building being punctured had not stirred his serious concern.

"The demon from the oubliette! It's here!" he shouted to the room.

"Construct," DuKain said calmly, using the translator to pass on the message. "It is nothing unnatural. It is merely a machine made by men. It is not impervious."

"Help us stop it," Emil said. "Prove your loyalty to the Negus. Prove your loyalty to all of us. If I give you your rifles, will you do that?"

"Dross the construct that killed Gronk?" Auban said, swinging his legs to the floor. He stood up and bared his chipped-toothed smile.

"Let me at it."

DuKain nodded to Sergeant Emil. "Let us do this for you. We will show everyone where our loyalty now lies."

"Alright, let's move."

Chaos rose in the background. Charlie and Lora emerged from their hiding spot on the far edge of the compound. Hyron appeared for a moment and nodded to the pair, and was gone in the blink of an eye. Lora glanced at Charlie, speaking with her eyes. There was no robot to serve as translator.

Clothed in the high-ranking uniform of a military office from Srechko, Lora lead the way, confidently striding toward the building that Hyron had directed them. Her shoulder length black hair and fair skin stood out among the Meravs, but her stern look of authority perfectly compensated. Charlie was close on her heels, wearing the armor of a Sonn Lake guard, the standard burnt orange, half-face bandana covering up any look of foreignness. He was huge compared to a group of guards that ran past the pair in the direction of smoke and screaming.

The building that the pair approached was huge and ornate. Large columns circled a pavilion leading to the covered entrance. Hidden notches built into the architecture emitted light from concealed flame sources. Banners and drapery flapped in the warm night air.

Lora did not break stride or visibly react when Hyron appeared beside Lora as they rounded a column and approached the guards posted at the entrance. The pair refocused their attention from the far off noises to the trio that approached.

"I am Master Corgen's chief attendant," Hyron said, tapping a badge on his chest. "We have business inside."

The senior guard squinted at the face of Hyron, who he had never seen before. Charlie began to get truly nervous to the point of fidgeting when the guard nodded them past. Lora, who did not know what Hyron had said to the guard, nodded and went past. Inside, Hyron angled away from the main walkway and away from the light. He pointed in a direction and disappeared once again.

The lavish building was scarcely staffed. More pairs of guards stood posted on the landings of marble steps. Red carpet ran exorbitantly throughout. But, the direction Hyron had sent Lora and Charlie was generally unoccupied and much less decorative. The pair stalked down a dim hall, making turns at the blink-and-he's-gone guidance of Hyron, no longer projecting as anyone but himself. In his brief appearances, Hyron was no longer concealing the way he looked, beaten and clothed in prison rags.

Hyron pointed to a torch mount on a long hall, and this time, waited for the pair of intruders to stop. "Twist," he said to Charlie, who turned the mount one way with no luck, then the other. A click was felt through the big man's hand and a skinny section of wall popped open.

Lora stepped forward and opened the concealed door to peer inside. Darkness met her.

"Hurry," Hyron said. "I'm just up here. Push when you reach the end."

The prisoner disappeared and Lora looked to Charlie. Unable to use words, Charlie shrugged. He picked the round torch-pot from the mount he had twisted. Held in one hand, he led the way into the dark stairwell. Lora followed, walking normally, as Charlie had to turn sideways in the constricted space. Maintaining the light forward, the two ascended.
Chapter 67

Ossin nearly kicked the cell door off its hinges to get inside. Standing in the corner, facing the door and shackled to the wall, stood a weary Hyron. His hair was greasy and unkempt, but aggressively cut above his brow to not obstruct his black ringed eyes. Bruises marked his cheeks and bare arms. His ankles were swollen, with sores around leg irons.

Ossin stormed upon Hyron quickly, fists balled. He fought to keep himself from striking the lad. The boy was already pinned to the wall, and looking pathetic and groggy. Ossin spun on the guard.

"He has been keeping his eyes open? No escaping this room?"

"Of course," the guard said, standing. "We have been watching him close around the clock."

Dissatisfied, Ossin turned back. Rapid gunfire crackled in the distance.

"Who have you brought? The construct that is out there now? The thing that was in the dungeon in Tsisia?"

Hyron did not answer, only starred at Ossin face, mouth murmuring something.

Sensing the boy was mad from sleep deprivation and potions, he grabbed him by the throat.

"Tell me you have not been leaving this room!"

Imperceptibly, Hyrons eyes snapped back into focus. "I've called everyone, you fool. They will kill that fool Andres for me. Just you wait. I will sink the ketch he is on, straight to the bottom of the lake. I will expose his murder of my father to the Retinue and no one will mourn this selfish Negus when he is gone."

Holding the boy by the neck, Ossin squeezed and brought his face in close. "The Negus will not die, but you will. I should have never let you live."

"Take them, go..." Hyron said, eyes on Ossin.

Ossin squinted and shook his head. "You are mad," he spat.

The older man released his grip and walked from the cell. "Use the potion, put him out. Deep this time."
Chapter 68

Lora was stunned. Charlie stood back, not saying anything. A woman with loose, brown curls stood in front of three young children, eyes pleading. The secret passageway they had taken up three levels had led to a large room scattered with children's toys. When Charlie pushed the door open, the four had been waiting for them.

Hyron appeared, standing next to the others. The family resemblance was clear.

"Take them, go."

Lora was stunned. Charlie spoke.

"We are here for you," he whispered to Hyron.

Lora understood him, despite the language barrier.

"Yeah, you brought us to rescue you, not them! Why did you do this?"

Hyron disappeared. It took him a moment to come back. "There is no saving me, but you can get them out of here. I found a place far to the north where they can hide. Somewhere the Negus will never find them. Time is short! You must go now."

The chaos outside had died down a bit, but Hyron withdrew again. When he returned, he stood closer to Lora and Charlie. He spoke over his shoulder to his family, then back to the others.

"I'm about to fade again. You must take them now. The guards have been pulled. The distraction won't last much longer. Go out the way you came in. I'll look out the best I can."

The image of the boy, standing before the huge man and stern woman, wobbled as if it was about to evaporate. "Go north. I will have at least one more chance to find you. My mother knows the way. Once you are safe, I'll tell Aros where you are. He will come. He will come for Onyx, if nothing else..."

Lora turned to look at Charlie. She had no idea how to proceed with everything becoming suddenly much more complicated than she signed on to. She wanted to scream in frustration. The path to what she wanted had been nothing but twists and turns through the unknown. She had lost control long ago.

"This is so much worse than Germany..." Lora muttered to herself.

Charlie did not hesitate. He stepped past Lora, pulled off his helmet and kneeled in front of the children. He grinned broadly and motioned to Hyron's family.

And then the door was kicked open.

All heads turned as Captain Falto of the Governor's thirty-three smashed into the children's playroom. Hyron popped back between his family and the soldier, visibly fighting to hold on.

Falto, surprised by the scene, stood indecisively in the threshold, long sword in hand. His eyes flashed from the boy, who's face he had seen only once before, to the frightened children hiding behind the Negus' stolen wife. His heart twisted in a knot.

He raised his sword and pointed at Charlie, who rose from his kneel. No one said a word as Falto made up his mind. Without warning, he flicked the sword, motioning for everyone to go.

Hyron's image twisted apart and was gone.

Helen mouthed a thank you to Falto and pushed at the three young children, a girl of nine and a pair of twin boys, who looked half their sister's age. The family moved with the big man's tender shepherding, slipping down into the dark stairway. Helen led the way with the fire pot.

Lora remained in place, tension full, as the others went out. Charlie began to follow the family down the stairs, but paused for Lora. He smiled reassuringly at her and put a hand on her arm. He nodded to her, and she nodded back.

"Okay," Charlie said to Lora in English.

"Okay," she repeated back.

Before she closed the door to the escape route, Lora glanced back at Captain Falto. The weary soldier remained in place, watching them all go. He sheathed his sword as Lora left the room, empty, save the old, drained officer.
Chapter 69

"Cover me!" Eitan shouted, and bolted from his position. Caria and Auban took turns letting out short bursts from their rifles as Eitan bounded forward.

"Set!" he shouted from his new position.

From behind, DuKain stood on the edge of a wall, shouting instructions to soldiers with the aid of the translator. Occasionally, he would level his carbine to observe an area with his optics.

"Do you have eyes on?" DuKain shouted to Caria.

"The construct is in that building!" she shouted back, pointing with her rifle. "We are raking the entrances, and exits. It's still tossing incendiaries!"

"Go left," Caria told Auban. "Don't cross the fire line, but we need eyes on this guy."

The youngest pirate nodded, "Moving."

As Auban darted from his position, the black robot burst from the building. All four rifles clattered after him, but his tracked base carried him fast, and the bullets splattered on his hardened skin.

Ossin, out of breath and agitated, ran up to DuKain's side. He pointed, panting out his commands.

"It is going... for the Negus! It's going... to the lake! He's out... on a ketch!"

DuKain uttered a curse, "Caria! After it! It's going for the yachts!"

"I've recalled all available personnel," Ossin said, "Forget the fires, we need... to protect the Negus. I've also called the outside garrison. Right now... I need your people out on the water. I don't know if your rifles are working, but that thing keeps running from you."

"It's got armor, but I'm sure it has sensitive parts," DuKain agreed. "We will get out there."

The short man ran forward, gathering his fellow pirates. Ossin went back the way he came, directing the incoming soldiers and guards, giving orders to officers based on the information he gained in the interrogation. All around the lakeside palace, fires burned. In several places, men and women lay dead, burned, and even emptied of blood.
Chapter 70

Ossin was dead asleep when a runner knocked on his door. The boy was young and looked nervous when the groggy man answered the door. Ossin stood waiting while the boy fished out a note and summarized his message.

"Garris Ossin, you are summoned to the Negus's residence by Daria Knar for a meeting with the Negus and the Shadow Council at noon," he said.

Frowning and scratching his chin, Ossin shooed the boy away, returning inside his room to dress. Ten minutes before noon, he emerged and walked across the palace grounds to the Negus's residence. Toward the lakefront, the damage from the attack was still evident. Rubble was strewn about. Blackened areas where firebombs had been extinguished marred the normally beautiful grounds. But, all the bodies had been removed and workers were carting away debris. A company of soldiers was camped out next to the residence building, the men laying about and napping in the gentle sunshine after a long night of high alert.

Passing the beefed up security at the entrance, Darla Knar met Ossin and walked with him to the meeting room.

"Did the scouts find any trace of Helen and the children?"

"No," Knar answered. "The trail ran cold suddenly. They must have had a plan to escape quickly once they were away from the grounds."

"And the construct? There was no sign of it once it entered the water? When the sun rose and we were able to get the Negus off of that ketch, I had to get a couple hours of sleep. I had a feeling I would need my strength for dealing with the fallout of him finding that his family had been stolen."

"Nothing since the bushes chased it into the lake. We have patrols all over the shores and in the surrounding mountains," Knar said. She lowered her voice for the next bit.

"Don't worry, this will not come down on you. You did the best you could. Everyone knows you tried yesterday, as well as directing the bushes in defense."

"Don't call them bushes," Ossin said in a non-judgmental way. "They didn't betray us when they were given their weapons back. They could have taken advantage of the chaos. Perhaps their leader is genuine."

Knar raised her eyebrows, unsure. The pair reached the private office they had been summoned to and were permitted inside by the elite guard force. As he went through the doors, Ossin saw Captain Falto and Sergeant Emil sitting across the hall, looking as if they did not get the same opportunity for rest after the nights events. Inside, Master Corgen and Canicud waited, standing in front of the Negus's personal desk. Knar and Ossin took a place next to the other two, all facing where the Negus would cast his judgment on his spy council.

The Negus entered, alone and unceremoniously. This time he wore a long robe that covered him nearly completely. His face was unsmiling and his affect had changed from the flamboyance seen in court the day before. Andres Vabrin sat at his desk and interlaced his fingers. His voice nearly lost the lisp all together when he spoke to the four standing before him. There were no opening pleasantries.

"Master Corgen, when did Ossin first bring to you the attention of his concern with the eldest WoExperitees?"

"He brought it to the council three days ago. We were made aware the night before you held court," the old man said.

"And why," the Negus breathed, holding back anger, "was it decided not to be brought directly to me?"

Canicud answered, "I deemed that the issue with our new friends and the report from the Tsisia excavation were of much more pressing concern at the moment, Negus. I also felt that it was not an issue that should have been brought up in open court, due to the presence of key individuals."

"Let me be sure I understand," the Negus said to Canicud and Master Corgen. "The both of you said I should keep Hyron in Merintill, rather than kill him. Then, he is placed in the Tower of Cape next to another man who can make himself appear wherever he wants, like a ghost. That man dies and now Hyron is sending demons made of black metal to kill me and steal my family? All that happens under your watch? None spoke up?"

"When the issue was brought to us, I defaulted to Canicud, Knar, and Ossin to make their own council," Master Corgen said.

The room was silent for a moment as everyone processed where the blame was being thrown. Knar jumped in.

"Negus, Ossin and I thought this a pressing issue, to be brought forth immediately, but Canicud, senior to the both of us, declined to take our recommendation."

Ossin, sensing the tidal change against the senior council, doubled down.

"Canicud blocked what I brought for selfish reasons, directly leading to the attack and kidnaping of Helen and the children."

Canicud's eyes burned into Ossin as he spoke.

"This was not an issue that would bring glory to me, but one that needed to be addressed for everyone's sake. But instead, Canicud selfishly put his agenda before everything else. He stopped me from broaching the subject in court, minimizing the importance, so that he could have his show."

"I was assured by Ossin that the boy was contained," Canicud nearly shouted. "He told me he was drugged and watched, so as not to project. But apparently, this was not true! I only wanted to bring forth the successes in Tsisia in public, then the difficulties with the WoExpritees boy in private."

"Swift action was needed," Knar said. "Ossin could have made the issue known without divulging who was involved."

"Furthermore," Ossin added, "Hyron could have been a valuable resource had we worked on the situation rather than letting him sit. Now, that will be extremely difficult."

The Negus put up his hand, stopping the arguments.

"DuKain and his people. They helped last night? I heard their weapons when I was on the water. They are the only ones they work for, correct?"

"Yes, Negus," Master Corgen said.

"And thus far they have been loyal? They have told us everything we want to know?"

"Yes, Negus," Canicud answered.

"I'm not sure that's entirely true," Knar said. "I don't think they are lying, but there is more to the site in Tsisia where they were found than they are letting on."

"Yes?" the Negus prodded.

"I have some interviews from the soldiers manning the site. They report odd occurrences and vapors while inside. I believe the tunnels inside lead to many different places, not just the land the short men came from."

"We will bring in the two soldiers from the expedition after this," the Negus said. "But first, I want to settle last night.

"Canicud, for your willful ignorance, you are removed from the Shadow Council."

The lifelong spy was speechless, shocked by the swiftness of the decision. Ossin tried to contain his grin. Knar nervously swept the hair from her eyes.

"I banish you from my service. Your only redemption will come from your direct recovery of Helen. The children as well, if possible. But I strip you of all rank and privilege. Ossin, you can take his place, as it seems you have more foresight than either of these two," he said, pointing at the other men.

"And you Corgen," the Negus said, leveling a finger at the chief spy, "You have been a loyal servant and this is the first imprudence I have seen from you. I want no more problems going forward. You had better take close grip on the reigns with these newcomers. I want rifles produced in the next month.

"Knar, you will keep watching over the trackers. I want constant updates in the search for my Helen. Wherever they've gone, we must find them."

"Yes, Negus," Master Corgen and Knar said in unison.

"We will execute the boy tomorrow," the Negus announced. "Interrogate him while you still can, but he dies tomorrow."

Everyone in the room nodded. The Negus clapped a gavel on his desk calling an attendant. The door opened and the Negus addressed the room.

"Master Corgen stay. Everyone else go. Let's bring in the two soldiers."

Knar, and Ossin left the room first, Canicud behind them. The older man gave the pair a dirty look as he sulked from the office. Captain Falto and Sergeant Emil were lead into the office, escorted by a pair of royal guards.

"Congratulations," Knar said to Ossin as soon as they were clear of ears.

"I had better get in to see the boy," Ossin said, attempting to ignore the victory. "I'll find out what he knows. If I find anything that can help in the search, I will bring it to you."

"I'm sure you will," Knar said with a sly smile. "It will be a very productive future working together, I'm sure."

"I think so, too," Ossin said, nodding and walking away.

The sound of the heavy office door closing echoed around the building as the Negus's attendant stepped to the side and posted outside the office.
Chapter 71

Banners flapped from the wind off the rough lake. A procession of soldiers surrounded Hyron, who was a head shorter than each man. Clean, dressed in a fresh white thawb, and in a dumb stupor, Hyron was lead out in the harsh sunlight, down the cobblestone pavement to the docks. Around his ankles were weighted irons, his hands tied in front.

From the second floor of the prison building, in much better living conditions, the pirates stood at an open window. Eitan had Caria wrapped in his arms. Auban stood with his arms crossed. DuKain called out the window to the departing procession. "So long, little prince! Thanks for the tip! Sorry this didn't work out for you!"

Behind the prisoner trailed the executioner. The man wore all black with a belt holding two fancy sheathed daggers. He was tall and thin, hooded with a bandana over his nose. He wore dark version of the standard royal guard uniform.

Aboard three ketches sitting in the harbor was a full audience. Hyron raised his head and looked out at everyone who had turned up for his execution. A smaller boat was standing by to transport the prisoner to his fate. Waiting on the dock were Captain Falto and Sergeant Emil, which gave Hyron pause.

Already moving at a snails pace, the executioner shoved Hyron, causing him to almost trip, as they made their way in full view of the audience. Down the quay, in front of the gangway the soldiers pealed away, their package delivered to the executioner's skiff. The man in black stood back as Captain Falto stepped forward to say a private word to the boy.

"You are a damn fool," Falto whispered to Hyron, leaning in close. "There were so many better ways to do what you did. Now you are going to die. If you would have just..."

Falto stopped, taking a step back suddenly.

"That's enough, Captain," The executioner growled, shoving Hyron toward the skiff.

The pair walked down the gangway and boarded the boat. The armed sailors put the skiff underway while the executioner escorted Hyron up to the top deck where the condemned would stand for the short voyage.

"What?" Emil asked Falto as he stood back with the newly minted Master Sergeant.

"I just want to get out of here," Falto said. "This whole place is ridiculous. I belong in Cape, not here.

"Plus," Falto added, heading with Emil off the dock as the procession left the harbor, "I have to hire two new sergeants, with you and Penelon promoted."

"In truth," Master Sergeant Emil said, "I am also looking forward to leaving the lake. I feel like I need to get out of here before they take back this rank."

"Are you going straight back to Tsisia, or to Cape first?" Falto asked.

"I'll pick up supplies and a squad in Cape, and then in Belontis before heading back to the desert," Emil said.

Falto nodded as they hit the cobblestone. "I'm going now. I haven't got much rest since I got here, and I don't feel like I will. Might as well start out."

"I'll get the chariot train alerted. We can go right away," Emil agreed.
Chapter 72

In the middle of the lake, the water was still choppy. On the largest ketch, the Negus sat alone, brooding, as everyone else enjoyed music and drink. A young sailor ran down the deck and was permitted past the royal guards. He whispered to the Negus's attendant.

Music was silenced with the flap of the hand as the Negus climbed to a perch on the top of his ketch. The three boats circled the prison skiff, each rocking much less than their smaller counterpart. Everyone became silent as the Negus spoke.

"Hyron WoExperitees! Son and nephew of the swiftest runners in all the lands! Eldest to my beloved Helen! I have found you guilty of kidnapping and an attempt on my life. You are found to be delusional for thinking I have been anything but admirable following the untimely and unexpected death of your father. Thus, you are condemned to the bottom of the lake, may your bones never see the sun!"

As the Negus's words settled over those in attendance, the executioner marched Hyron out on the plank to stand, alone. Once the boy had reached the end, the man in black drew his blades. There was nowhere left to go but down.

And so Hyron stepped out.

The rough waves from the wind swallowed the white clad figure up. No splash; Hyron simply fell to the depths. The onlookers cheered.

Surprised, the Negus felt better himself. The boy was gone.

A fitting end, the Negus thought. He tried to have me killed on my boat, but instead I had him killed. Helen was still missing, but she had been tiring him lately. Perhaps a vacation from her and the children was just what he needed. His people were sure to track them down eventually, anyway. So he would at least enjoy himself in their absence. He would bring his focus back to better things, like the hole in the desert in Tsisia. He also had new friends that promised to make him weapons that had no match across the lands.

Negus Vabrin smiled and called for a drink. "Back to the palace! Tonight, we will have a fire and a true celebration!"
Chapter 73

Lora walked along the stream in the sunlight, eyes closed. She opened them after several steps, finding herself veering toward the thigh high green crop growing nearby. She flicked the end of the fishing pole she was carrying at a buzzing insect that appeared to her to be a dragonfly. She smiled as it easily dodged her sloppy strike, swooping low toward the rushing water.

Up ahead was a small wooden bridge crossing a wide section of the water where a pool had formed. Lying in the grass, under a tree for shade, was Charlie Four. His head was back to a neat shave. His legs were crossed at the ankles and his arms were folded on his chest. He wore new brown leather boots and shirt, his pants, a thick, light grey wool. Similarly dressed, Lora sat down with her back to the tree, next to the napping man.

"How many?" Charlie asked in English. He didn't open his eyes.

"Two," Lora answered, picking up his half empty wine bottle standing nearby and taking a pull. It was less cold than the water they had been fishing in, but it was still amazing.

"You?"

"Three," he said with a smile.

Lora wacked him on the shoulder and shook her head.

"Should we go back?" Lora asked, taking another drink.

"Yes," Charlie agreed.

The pair gathered up their gear and started to walk back in the direction they had come earlier in the morning. Charlie took the lead, carrying all his gear in a pack on his back, rather than in his hands and strapped to his waist, as Lora preferred. The path was marked by two deep rut marks from the passage of farming wagons. Lora walked through the thin grass and weeds that grew between the wheel ways.

Lora and Charlie walked in silence. The afternoon sun and silence relaxed Lora as she walked. She felt at peace in the serene stillness, the passing miles going by with ease. The meadows and fields the pair crossed were unoccupied and picturesque. She had not been in such a pristine landscape in what felt like a lifetime. And her quiet company felt comfortingly familiar in a way that she had not had in quite a while.

The green fields gave way to smooth granite walls, leading up to a village tucked away in the grey stone. The shadows from pinnacles of rock sucked away all the warmth provided by the sun. The temperature dropped ten degrees in a matter of feet. Lora's brown boot heals clicked on the streets and echoed off walls of homes cut into the mountaintop.

Down the main street that ran the length of the village, Lora and Charlie walked side by side. Turning left down a short street, the pair entered a courtyard of one of the nearly identical tall compounds that were cut into the stone. On the ground level was a large open kitchen where the fresh fish were to be brought. Charlie began to dig the fish out of his pack when the housemaid entered with an empty serving tray.

In accented speech, she called to Lora and Charlie, flapping her hands. The woman spoke, but was not understood, save for her gestures. Eyes went wide when she held up two fingers and pointed upstairs. The pair dropped what they were doing and ran outside, up the unprotected exterior stone steps to the living quarters.

Charlie burst through the main door of the sitting room to find a gathering of everyone he expected: Onyx stationed in the corner, Helen, and the children. Unexpected was Hyron and another man, sitting on the main windowsill. Hyron sat next to his mother. Both were wrapped in blankets, at a big table, the children around their feet. Lora came in right after Charlie and immediately knew whom the other was.

"Aros!"

The ageless man with purple eyes nodded and smiled. "Sorry it took us a bit to arrive."

"We've been here a week with no word! A week to get here. What took you so long? Why didn't you come to us?" she asked Hyron. "We thought something happened to you."

Onyx translated for Lora, which surprised her after Aros had spoken perfect English.

"I was a bit tired after we escaped," Hyron answered. "And after my time as a prisoner, I guess I was a little weak. Aros let me rest."

"You couldn't have told us that? We found this place after what you had told your mother, but we thought you were going to guide us."

"I think I'm going to take a break from projecting myself for a bit," Hyron said. " Maybe for good..."

Hyron looked at Aros, who shook his head, as if he was confirming an answer he had already given.

Hyron turned back to Lora and Charlie, smiling, "But you made it! And you found the money I left for you, I see. It's perfect isn't it?"

"Other than the cold," Lora said walking over to the fireplace.

"So you decided to come?" Charlie said to Aros, in his own tongue. Aros answered in kind. Onyx translated to the others.

"I did. With all of Envy and Onyx's knowledge in one unit, I figured it was time to collect before it was lost. I had to use the remainder of a few tools I was saving, but I was able to arrive and assist in Hyron's execution."

Everyone turned to look at Hyron.

"The Negus should not be looking for me any longer."

"And locals say that troops from the Negus's lands rarely come here. If they do, they see them coming from miles away. We are effectively out of his reach," Lora said.

Hyron nodded, already knowing he selected the safest place for his family.

"So what's next?" Charlie asked to the room.

"They will stay here," Aros said to Lora and Charlie. "I will take you to the place you want to go, if you are still up for it. Onyx and I can catch up on the way there."

"As much as it is beautiful here, I left my home with Envy so that I could one day return with my curse lifted," Lora said. "So, yes, I am still up for it."

"Me too," Charlie said in English.

"It's a long journey," Aros said. "It will make the week it took to get here seem like an hour."

"When do we leave?"

"Stay the night with us," Helen said. "Let us celebrate you before you leave."

"Tomorrow then," Lora agreed.
Chapter 74

Two months later, Ossin sat in his desk at Sonn Lake, working over papers when an attendant entered. He passed Ossin an intelligence dispatch that had recently been delivered. As he opened the envelope, the subordinate reminded the spy chief of the time.

"The rifle rests with DuKain are in ten minutes, Sir."

"That's out on the quay, correct?" he asked, scanning the report.

"It is, Sir."

"You heading down?" Knar asked, popping her head in Ossin's office at the same moment.

Ossin did not answer. He read over the dispatch, then dropping it to the desk to regard Knar.

"What is it?"

"A single report," Ossin said, hesitating to get up, "from the Southwest of Srechko. Two men, one woman, and a huge black creature covered in a hooded cloak."

"The construct... Not Helen?"

"No," Ossin said, rising and putting on a light coat. "And it was from a month ago. It can be passed up for Corgen to deal with. I'm sure they won't pursue it. Unless Corgen leaks it to Canicud."

"Leave it," Knar said. "We can deal with it later. I'm excited to see these rifles in action. If we can equip a company with them up in Akosua, we can intimidate any attempts at violence with minimal effort."

"That the promise," Ossin agreed as the two descended the stairs out of the building and into the fresh lakeside air.
Chapter 75

In a creaking wooden ship, foreigners to the Lands crossed the ocean south of Meravs. Landing in a truly savage city compared to the organized states to the north, the travelers acquired supplies and continued on their way. Onyx was loaded to his full capacity, and the journey persisted.

Along the way, the robot and Aros spoke most all of the time. They conversed in a language both Lora and Charlie did not understand. Each understood that the intended purpose was to exclude them from the protected information Envy and Onyx had accumulated along their ways.

Being barred from this interaction, Charlie and Lora walked together, back from Onyx and Aros. Charlie quickly continued to pick up English, and he and Lora kept each other company. Occasionally, Charlie would interrupt Onyx to ask for a translation, and often Aros would explain what he needed to know. Charlie would fall back to Lora's side and resume where they had left off.

The landscape changed from rocky coast to dry grasslands that stretched on for days and days. Eventually, clusters of cactus woods would take over the gradually drying topography. Sensing a creeping gain in elevation over time, Lora realized they were now in high country. A river appeared and the group followed it upstream, the waters growing wider and stronger as they progressed.

By the time the mountain became visible in the distant haze, the supplies strapped to Onyx had begun to run out. With a final push of renewed speed, Lora, Charlie, Onyx, and Aros made it to the base of the large snow covered peak they had traveled so far and long to find. On the valley floor, looking out and up at the final challenge, Aros stopped.

"That man is still following you?" he asked Onyx.

"I have noticed him following us every night since I emerged from the lake," the robot answered.

"He must have a thing for you since you let him out of his box. No need to take him to the front doors. A man like shouldn't go up there."

Aros pulled a day's worth of supplies from Onyx. He handed them to Lora and Charlie when they caught up. "We should part ways here. That's the place," he pointed.

"It should take a few hours, if I remember right. It has been a very long time since I was back here. Just find the top, there is a temple. There may be a test, I don't know, but that is the place if you want a wish granted."

"You could have asked for anything, and you asked to know all languages? I assume that's how you..." Lora gestured.

"What you ask for and what you get are not always the same," Aros answered. " Onyx and I will continue south. It's too bad that you were running out of oxygen before you wrecked the sub. It's also been a while since I have been back to the Islands."

"Are you sure you don't want to come up with us? Once you have been inside you can't return?" Lora asked.

"Close enough," Aros answered.

"Thank you," Lora said. "Thank you so much for coming; for doing that for Hyron; for walking so far with us. Who would have thought jumping around the universe would involve so much walking? We must have gone five hundred miles."

"Walking seems to be a lot of it," Aros grinned. "But I don't mind. I like to walk."

Charlie clapped Aros on both shoulders in a native gesture of his own. "Will you ever get to where you are going?" he asked the shorter man.

"One day I will."

Avoiding further displays, Aros turned and walked away, Onyx at his heels. Looking back at each other, Lora and Charlie went their own way.

To say there was a path up to the peak would not be correct. There was a clear way up a draw and onto a saddle of the mountain. It did not look like men had ever visited this area of the Lands. Walking in the snow, Hyron suddenly appeared beside Charlie. Lora walked ahead, understanding the two had things to discuss.

"I thought you were going to stop using your gift."

"I was. I am. But I needed to see you two off," Hyron said.

"I'm glad you came. You see the way ahead?"

"I do. You are almost there," Hyron answered.

"I have to know," Charlie said, staring straight ahead, trudging in the shin deep snow. Hyron walked lightly on the top of the frozen crust. "Were you lying when you told me the fist was still hidden on Yomi? You have told lots of lies to get us all here."

"I did lie about that. It was gone," Hyron admitted.

There was silence between the two as Charlie's suspicions were confirmed. He had known it in his bones for so long. Now, he felt as if he had physically traveled back to the tidally locked planet and put his hand to the spot, finding no tropellite. It was concrete fact now. He had held riches in his hand for a heartbeat, and it was snatched away. A tease. And in the aftermath, a friend had died and he had been thrown into the past.

Charlie knew he would never see his ship again. He would never see his asteroid. Things had changed, and as much as he hated DuKain, forward was the only way to go. The face from the reverse tower looked back at him. His face, but older.

"Okay," he answered.

"Safe travels Lora Clark," Hyron called forward. "I wish you luck breaking your curse!"

Lora stopped, turned around and waved to the projection of Hyron. Then he was gone. She waited, looking back at Charlie, who continued back up to her side. The pair walked together, looking uphill. The summit was coming into sight, a huge slab of stone perched at the top. The closer they got, the more it appeared to be man made.

Struggling with a way to present her words, Lora gave up on finding the most simple and effective way to be understood.

"Did he tell you what you wanted to hear?"

Charlie shook his head, "No. I don't know."

Lora stopped walking. Charlie did as well. She turned to Charlie and looked up into his broad face.

"Look, I don't know what's going to happen in there, but if I can go home, back to where I belong, I'm going. And if you can't go home, or don't want to go back home... Come along with me."

Charlie smiled, but was still struggling.

"I'm going to go. I'll see you inside?" she said, reaching out and putting her palms on each of his elbows, similar to the way Charlie had done to Aros.

Charlie Four watched as Lora Clark walked up the remainder of the slope and to the large wooden doors. Before she got too far, he started moving, pounding up the snow, not to be left behind. The pair reached the doors together. Each took a handle, pulling them open together.

THE END

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Thanks for reading my book!

If you got this far and liked what you read, I encourage you to leave a review on whatever site you downloaded it from. Any feedback is appreciated!

Talk to me on Twitter: @gabesluis

Wanna find more of my stuff? I have lots of short stories:

Beyond the Gate (2013)

Five Days On Pimu (2014)

Movement (2015)

Everything Follows (2017)

And of course the novels:

Other Worlds Than These (2013)

Saving John (2013)

Arrow Of Time (2014)

Check 'em out!

