It''s not like I had a choice when I got the hell out of Villa Marròn with mobsters, bounty hunters, and mercs showing up everywhere looking for me.


    I don''t even have a clue where to start looking for them; I can''t save everybody! That''s just the harsh unreality of the world we live in.


    Ohh....


    "You met a Serbian by the name of Sylvia? Tracked to some of your secret accounts, actually."


    Tasìa nodded.


    "Yes. You helped me out there. Jammed that satellite signal that was set up to kill me."


    Felicité paused for a second.


    "That''s... right. Thanks for reminding me. Let me check on something."


    So much for achieving a mere answer to the puzzle when so damn many questions have yet to even be properly asked.


    Silvia''s eyes scanned the stars. Tasìa thought the Serbian assassin seemed lost in thought, but then her eyes fixed on one location, and she jerked her arm up to point at it.


    "Tasìa, do you see just a thumbnail above the star Gacrux, but slanted in the direction of Beta Centauri, that there is a bluish-green object? It is a bit dim and small, but quite distinctive once you focus on it."


    Who the hell had ever heard of a spontaneous nebula? Hundreds of light years across, and limited to that speed in their steller formation. Bloody ridiculous to even consider the possibility!


    With the prevalence of amateur astronomers, how long would the powers-that-be keep that lie up? The ship has a metallic sharpness to its texture beneath all the luster. More importantly, why were the powers-that-be even bothering with a lie?


    Were they living in two different universes? Tasìa thought with much exacerbated hyperbole.


    I know what I see. Is the power of suggestion so strong that a faked media image can be planted in people''s heads that prevents verification with their very own eyes?


    The tattoo.