ã€ŠMana Pool - The Ghost Factorã€‹


 Reporter Note

    Reporting the truth is my life¡¯s mission, the same as my late father¡¯s. He devoted his life for the truth while supporting me and mother, and inspiring me to continue his legacy. I¡¯m sure if he was alive today, Terra Firma would be everything to him and underground supporters. Things are moving fast. This latest tome is proof that actions¡ªgood actions¡ªare happening, no matter how hard humans protest to be better off alone. These stories are still classified under Denverbay¡¯s orders, but Council support is not enough. If you want to help the humans and terrains, be ready for the call. It¡¯s coming. Keep hope alive.

    The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    Xi¡¯Tra Zader Khu II

    Investigate reporter of Republic News Network

 Chapter 1

    Magnolia Lane Plantation

    Derry, Louisiana

    April 14, 2013

    10:17 PM

    Remember me saying things would get complicated after Katie got home? Fuck complicated. Things got ridiculous.

    One hour. Just one hour from the start of that ghost hunt, things turned south so fast. My camera and flashlight shook in my hands, and goosebumps on my arms felt like sandpaper.

    I mouthed curses as I wanted a candlestick float in mid-air several feet from us. All three candles were lit and the flames were tall and straight. It swayed left to right, slow and ominous. Poltergeist activity is nothing new for me, but I¡¯m sure the Wave did more than infect or whatever it did.

    ¡°K-keep recording, this stuff is important,¡± I said to Alex.

    ¡°Important? How about breathing? You¡¯ll jerk that camera off your hand,¡± Alex said with fear.

    Before that asteroid crashed, poltergeist activity is rare to find. The most activity I and other investigators and amateurs find were EMP spikes, disembodied voices in voice recordings, and unexplained shadows in night vision videos. But finding actual evidence before Helen? Nope.

    After? It¡¯s a daily dose of weird.

    ¡°Poke it,¡± Alex said.

    ¡°Poke a candlestick? Knock off the jokes.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m serious. Who¡¯s the leader? You are.¡±

    I blinked. ¡°That¡¯s not how it¡¯s supposed to go.¡±

    ¡°You convinced us to come here and you were the one needing evidence. It¡¯s your hunt. Jam a pen at it. It has to be wires, or Tabitha screwing with us.¡±

    Alex was a stuck-up skeptic of the supernatural, even at this time. We knew each other since college, covering equipment issues, video storage, and other repairs. Why he was tagged along he needed a hobby between day jobs. Took me a while to convince him and Frank (my audio tech) downstairs for this trip, that they were getting credit for my theory.

    Once magic became real, Alex was still skeptical. Most of all, he had hateful tendencies against terrans. Try researching while not hearing a comment about my sister.

    ¡°Seriously, kill the jokes and stop it with Tabitha,¡± I said. ¡°If you think so, check yourself.¡±

    ¡°Nah up. Not me. You-¡°

    The candlestick darted into the bedroom so fast we yelled.

    ¡°What¡¯s going on up there?¡± Frank yelled from downstairs.

    ¡°Don¡¯t come up, we got this! Just stick with Tabitha and Sassel,¡± I said while Alex and I ran into the bedroom.

    We found the candlestick on the floor under burning antique window curtains. I ripped them down as we stomped out the flames. The floor was scorched a little, but I wouldn¡¯t risk burning down a historical landmark, and explaining how it happened.

    ¡°Oh man, this is getting too dangerous, Robert. We need to stop this hunt," Alex said.

    I stomped the curtains a few times before saying, ¡°This is just a small hiccup. I know it¡¯s freaky, but it¡¯s good evidence. Besides, Tabitha hasn¡¯t charged her mana. We would¡¯ve heard the buzzing by now.¡±

    ¡°Small? Listen to yourself! You¡¯re obsessive. We¡¯ll die if we stay here with the freak.¡±

    He had his reasons and I had mine. Calling Tabitha names was hurtful to me as well.

    ¡°Alex, this evidence is important for so many reasons. I¡¯m not backing out and neither is Tabitha.¡±

    ¡°Bringing her was a mistake!¡± Alex''s prejudiced tone was the same as everybody else. I tried my best to convince him not all terrans were bad, but everything from mass media was painting them demonic and nothing else. My sister is good. Take it from me.

    ¡°Hey, feel free to run out and abandon us. Just stop giving lip about¡ª¡°

    ¡°A shrill scream from downstairs cut me off, then Frank screamed and told Tabitha something I couldn¡¯t make out.

    Tabitha¡¯s screaming got louder and higher. Then the buzzing came, deep in my eardrums and head. Charged mana. Tabitha¡¯s scream was filled with fear to make goosebumps form on my arms. I heard electricity pop, then a familiar blue light came from downstairs. Frank screamed again before a shotgun sound cut Tabitha¡¯s scream then a loud thud hit the ground floor.

    ¡°No,¡± I whispered, ¡°not now.¡±

    ¡°Fucking knew it!¡± Alex said then glared at me. ¡°Nice job getting us killed, dickwad!¡±

    The house suddenly shook around us. I dropped my flashlight and camera from the jolt that by instinct I grabbed for a bed frame pole. Wall decor and furniture rattled from the quake as if the house groaned like an old man. Some of the priceless antiques tipped off shelves and nails and crashed to the floor.

    The quake settled, then I let go, grabbed my equipment, and ran for the stairs.

    I was at the top of the stairs when a loud thud and an ¡°Oof¡± behind me. I turned seeing Alex on the floor face first. An ottoman was under his legs. I remembered the survey earlier and that ottoman was in the adjacent room by a vanity mirror some few yards from the bedroom.

    ¡°Alex, you alright?¡± I asked.

    He looked up with a hate-filled glare in his eyes. ¡°Not dead but fine. Get down there and stop that demon before she kills us all!¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s not a demon,¡± I rebuked and left him behind.

    Midway down the stairs, pictures levitated off their nails and attacked me. I blocked three frames with my flashlight coming for my face. At that point, if any of the priceless paintings or photographs were damaged, I couldn¡¯t care less.

    I got to the ground floor and the noise grew louder. Frank dashed past me, dropping all his gear. He ran out the main door screaming ¡°I quit!¡± Over and over, running bast the rental car and down the long driveway.

    ¡°Robert! Tabitha¡¯s out cold!¡± A female voice called out from the commotion.

    Turning, my eyes went to the living room at the strongest poltergeist activity I have ever seen. Antiques and books and furniture plated in a vortex of charged mana near Tabitha¡¯s unconscious body. A voodoo priestess-turned-terran was on her back, her white turban was knocked off exposing her black buzz cut and elf ears. On her chest was Sassel, her black cat totem, failing at CPR and swatting her host¡¯s face.

    ¡°Dammit, Tabitha, wake up!¡± The cat screamed amongst the chaos behind her.

    I knelt beside them to check Tabitha, making sure nothing hit my head. It noticed she still breathed, shallow, and her mouth moved. I got closer to hear and all I got were whispers in her ancestral African language without her Southern accent.

    ¡°Sassel, please tell me Tabitha didn¡¯t have intention,¡± I said.

    ¡°On purpose? Hell no, she bloody did not! Separate to cover more ground. What a brilliant idea!¡±

    ¡°Never mind that.¡± I dodged a thick book from clipping my forehead. ¡°What happened?¡±

    She shook her head and then said, ¡°She. Got. Scared.¡± Sassel¡¯s eyes had murderous intent at me. ¡°She got defensive, charged up, and all her mana got sucked out of her. Happy?¡±

    I wasn¡¯t, but my suspicions were right. ¡°All of it?¡±

    ¡°Every last drop. Don¡¯t you dare question a totem¡¯s intuition.¡±

    Why would I? Totems know their terrans, and terrans know their totems. Pure symbiotic relationship since their transformation, and what I¡¯ve heard, since birth. Why argue a totem about the truth?

    ¡°Shit. We gotta get out of here. ¡°I¡¯ll help her up,¡± I said and took hold of Tabitha¡¯s shoulder¡¯s ¡°Alex, get your ass down here!¡±

    I heard a second later Alex¡¯s distraught voice. ¡°Fuck this shit,¡± he shouted and ran out the door too.

    No time to force him to stop, I dragged Tabitha to the door.

    The house shook again. The floorboards rattled under my feet, even pushing against my soles trying to trip me. The space between them emitted the same blue glow from the vortex. Not good, not good, I thought, putting puzzle pieces together in my head.

    A booming voice of someone¡ªor something¡ªoverwhelmed me, a whaling and bone-splitting cry of pain, came from the vortex. Wind came from nowhere blowing objects out and pulling them to the living room.

    Charged mana, a viscous gel-like substance, seeped from the floorboard cracks and into the vortex.

    It was close.

    That feeling of ¡°Get the hell out!¡± And ¡°See it to the end!¡± fought within me, but the ladder won. I watched the vortex morphed just as the other stories and videos from others. Sassel hissed at it, but as it faced us, Sassel ran out of the house. I was frozen in place from fear and awe.

    Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

    Some places were materialized, some weren¡¯t. I could see through its torso. Organs, intestines, and rib bones from two people expanded with each fluid-filled grunt. Its arms and legs were mismatched: two left arms acted as the right leg, while a left foot was its left arm, holding its liver. The stretched head hanging by a stick of a neck looked at me.

    Jesus. Tabitha summoned that? Or it summoned itself? I thought.

    The Picasso/John Carpenter stitching of a Confederate soldier and slave worker gurgled in air and the house¡¯s foundation rattled as it screamed.

    ¡°BATS TOIIIIIIIII!¡±

    The scream compelled me to find my strength, pick up Tabitha¡¯s body, and run out of the house.

    Alex was starting the Jeep. Sassel was in the passenger seat, demanding him to hurry up. I grabbed the back door, opened it, and jumped in with Tabitha still in my arms. My throat felt dry from the heavy breathing and screaming. Alex got the Jeep running and drove, fast, toward the gates.

    A loud crash came from the house. Looking back, the monstrosity broke through the door and lumbered after us, repeating those words in a feverous determination.

    ¡°Floor it, Alex!¡± I yelled and felt the Jeep jerk forward.

    Once past the gate and an erect wave crystal by the road, the ghost¡¯s body dissolved into the soil under the dim moonlight.

    Sassel looked back at me. She was pissed. ¡°Nice plan, idiot,¡± she said.

    I fucked up. I nearly got people killed and I had no clue how Tabitha was doing.

    See? Complicated.

    <hr>

    Walsh Estate Winery

    Temecula, California

    April 15, 2013

    7:20 AM

    It¡¯s funny in a sane sort of way these days. The more I learn and accept my terran body, and the magic within me, the more I notice other changes. I¡¯m a morning person now. I¡¯m sure the transformation did that, or my enthusiasm for magic was the reason.

    ¡°Done,¡± I said with vigor to myself. No more tinkering, playing, adding, prodding, or anything else. The project was done.

    I started it about a week ago after weeks of non-stop spellbook research to create magical items. I had to call it done, no matter how hard I wanted to improve the design over and over. The mismatch of twigs, paper, hot glue, and black oil paint sigils looked like a third grader¡¯s craft project.

    A small cough behind me pulled my attention from it.

    ¡°Are you sure?¡± Arana asked from her perch above the sliding balcony doors. The perch was added with Dad¡¯s help when opening the doors became cumbersome. It was woven from clipped grape vines from the vineyards, then zip-tied to a plywood shelf screwed to the wall. A hole was cut and covered with a two-way cat door.

    It was functional for Arana, but even as the figure of my subconscious, the red-tailed hawk totem fussed for not having enough ceiling space.

    ¡°How long were you awake?¡± I asked.

    She stood upright, shaking herself. Her glowing blue eyes looked down at me. ¡°Long enough for the mumbling to start. Is it done, Katie?¡±

    I smiled with pride, rubbing my tired eyes. ¡°It¡¯s done, Arana. I¡¯m serious this time.¡±

    And then a sudden thought came to me. Maybe I should make the sigils bigger, but that would affect the amount of mana I feed them.

    No.

    I tried to not show it. Arana tilted her head a little. Did she notice what I was thinking? Or notice my body language?

    ¡°Do you know how early you woke up?¡± she asked.

    ¡°Uh¡­ I can¡¯t re-¡°

    ¡°Three hours ago.¡±

    I checked the clock on my nightstand.

    ¡°And you worked past your alarm. You didn¡¯t flinch once. I had to turn it off for you.¡± Arana sighed. The nightstand had talon marks on the surface. ¡°The meditation technique you learned is becoming a nuisance for me than a tool for you.¡±

    ¡°Which I didn¡¯t do this time,¡± I said. ¡°I use it to sort what I learn, not create. You know that. I just¡­ ignored it. Honest.¡±

    Arana took a moment before saying, ¡°Will this not blow up like last time?¡±

    ¡°Oh, come on. I learned my lesson.¡± I stood up from my desk as my knees and tail popped from not moving for a while. ¡°It will not blow up. I triple-checked the alignments and links.¡±

    ¡°And the store won¡¯t open itself. It¡¯s your turn today.¡±

    I didn¡¯t forget that, but the clock reminded me I had to get ready. A hot shower will help keep the tiredness at bay. ¡°Trust me. I got this.¡±

    Arana tilted her head.

    ¡°Seriously. It¡¯ll be different,¡± I said then stripped my pajamas off.

    As the hot water fell on me, it relaxed all my stiff muscles from sitting, but I didn¡¯t count how long I was in there. Five, maybe seven minutes, I think. I¡¯m that obsessive with magic these days. Arana could be right about it, that it¡¯s becoming a problem. For years when I was young, I dreamt about magicpracticing and casting all sorts of spells. What else could I do while cooped up in my family¡¯s winery with the business as slow as it is and in fear of anti-terrans in town? Play video games?

    Adjusting to this new life was not easy at first. I had to deal with my tail and my clothes. I had my pants altered to allow my tail out below the beltline by a family friend of ours. My ears weren¡¯t a problem but getting them re-pierced after my transformation took weeks to find a reliable piercer in town. Healing after the job took days.

    And not just the body issues. Dealing with the public eye was another. Outsiders distrusting the only terrans of the family winery, us stomaching Jaruka¡¯s bad mood days and the fanatic sopping the drama up like leeches.

    No matter what you read from the news, not all terrans are bad. Scott and I are examples.

    I dried off, dressed in black pants, a green buttoned shirt, shoes, and stainless-steel loop earrings. Glancing at the mirror one more time, looking like a modern mutant elf has its charm.

    I walked over to Scott¡¯s bedroom across from mine. Still considered the guest room of the estate, but it¡¯s more his. I let myself in. The bed took up half of the room, leaving space between the bed and the bathroom entrance to the right. The closet was open with a few scattered dirty clothes.

    Scott¡¯s comforter covered half of his terran body, his tail flicked with each breath as he still slept. Keeji, his Siberian husky totem, slept at the foot of the bed, on his back, with his tongue sticking out. Even the goofball of the house still makes people laugh.

    I snaked to Scott¡¯s right and leaned over his ear. ¡°Morning,¡± I whispered.

    Scott snorted and opened his eyes to me. ¡°Morning,¡± he said groaning. ¡°Woke up early again?¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°Liar. The ears never lie.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s hot this morning,¡± I said while rubbing my ears.

    Scott yawned. ¡°Did your room blow up?¡±

    ¡°It will not.¡±

    ¡°Good.¡± His tail swept over and touched me. Mine touched his and pushed it back.

    ¡°I¡¯ll show you once you help me move those cases by the fourth fermenter to the store.¡±

    Scott protested.

    ¡°How¡¯s your chest?¡±

    Scott felt his bare chest with his hand. The scar was still visible over his sternum. ¡°Painless. Finally.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡± I asked and he nodded sullenly. Scott¡¯s chest has been healing since the attack at Area 51 and waking up on the alien battleship. Terrans heal fast, but his mana heart was punctured by a Reaper scythe, something I¡¯m still figuring out why it took so long. While I learned and practiced the most, Scott watched from afar. Couldn¡¯t risk Keeji starting up Scott¡¯s mana heart if it won¡¯t hold full pressure.

    ¡°If my sorcerous is skeptical, she can examine it.¡± Scott spread his arms out to make me get a good look at him. Yeah, the strong, muscled chest was getting to me.

    I placed a finger over his lips, silencing him. ¡°Let¡¯s start with stocking the Chester Shiraz first.¡±

    It¡¯s a joke play between us, the whole master an apprentice thing. It stuck ever since.

    He got up and showered as I left. Keeji was still sound asleep. No joke. If you plop him by Highway 15 he¡¯ll still sleep through rush hour.

    I came down the stairs and heard Mom and Dad debating with each other in the kitchen. Mom sat at the bar top holding her coffee mug. She noticed me and nodded once. No hello or good morning. It¡¯s her way of silently saying to me ¡°I¡¯m annoyed.¡±

    Dad was across from Mom with his coffee, facing into the kitchen as Mom, toward Jacob.

    ¡°You sure you don¡¯t want to go?¡± Dad asked him.

    ¡°Go where?¡± I asked.

    Dad noticed me and shrugged heavily.

    Jacob was further in the kitchen, still wearing his sweater and sweatpants. ¡°I said I¡¯m not going today. School sucks!¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s the same story every time,¡± Mom said. ¡°Bullies these days will never settle down, we been over this with the principal. Unless something new came up, you¡¯re still going today.¡±

    Jacob was hesitant for a second then said, ¡°This! I can¡¯t take the pain anymore!¡± and pulled back both his sweater sleeves. I gasped. Dark rings circled his forearms, about nine of them, almost bleeding. ¡°You think Indian burns hurt? How about terran bullies? They still hurt since Friday.¡±

    Ever since we came back home, Jacob has been bullied so much the physical attacks were just showing themselves. The black eye last month was the first, just the fact that we knew the alien up by Lake Skinner.

    ¡°Holy crap, can I check that?¡± I asked, wondering if there was a lingering spell.

    Jacob shook his head and jerked his arms away. ¡°No, not you, Katie, you can¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°M-Maybe I can siphon the mana out. Just let me¡­¡±

    ¡°No. Please, not yet.¡±

    Mom walked past me to comfort Jacob. ¡°Oh, Jacob, you need to tell us these things sooner. The principal will not like this, Jonathan.¡± Jacob welcomed Mom¡¯s help. He didn¡¯t look back at me again.

    Dad was already dialing the school¡¯s number before saying, ¡°Katie, head off and get the store ready, we¡¯ll handle this.¡±

    ¡°But I¡ª¡°

    ¡°Please, Katie. Not now.¡±

    Like Jacob and my parents, they still saw terran magic as a troublemaker than a tool. It¡¯s all thanks to the media plastering those beliefs on every person in the world. Yet, Scott and I are grateful we still have a roof over our heads. I was still their daughter and Scott was still a guest and my future husband. So I let them be.

    It rained last night, and the lingering smell was still in the air, calming me a bit. The front lawn had fresh dewdrops, and the purple Wave crystal was wet and glittered in the light. I heard Arana¡¯s squawk as she flew through the vineyards hunting for rodents. Not to eat, just relocate.

    I walked to the warehouse thinking about how to help Jacob without scaring him. Something had to be done. The thoughts stopped when I saw the store¡¯s heavy oak doors were wide open, and the gravel parking lot had a familiar alien motorcycle lying on its side.

    None of the workers arrived yet, and the store was locked up last night. And the light was on.

    ¡°No, no, no, don¡¯t tell me,¡± I said and ran into the store. ¡°Jaruka! God, if your hungover again, this¡­Hey!¡±

    A man screamed from the counter after I noticed him, then he threw a glass bottle at me. I ducked before it crashed against the wall behind me. Terran reflexes have their advantages. My arms were already glowing with Celtic tribal tattoos. Energy flowed through my spine, shoulders, arms, and skin.

    Looking closer, it was a man in a hoodie, holding an open white sack. Standing next to the open cash register. Good thing Scott added the earnings to the safe in the house last night.

    The man cursed, jumped over the counter, and ran for the back door while raising his gun.

    But I was quicker. My project was part of my magic practice, and I got better since.

    I raised my open palms at the thief and chanted, ¡°Sciath!¡± I formed a blue-white shield in front of me. Defense magic was the first to get right, honing it to make it strong as steel.

    The gun fired three times. The bullets hit my shield. Each one pinged and fell to the floor.

    He dropped the gun with utter shock. ¡°P-Please. Don¡¯t hurt me. Please,¡± he said with genuine fear, almost like Jacob¡¯s

    ¡°Sir, drop the sack and get out!¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯ll still call the cops.¡±

    He was hesitant. He must have snatched other valuables, I thought.

    ¡°Sir, drop it!¡±

    ¡°No!¡± Then the man turned and ran for the back door.

    I dropped my shield and focused my mana in my other hand. Any spell could damage the storefront, but I practiced one spell for a few weeks that could settle the issue. Thank you, internet forums.

    I aimed my right hand at the thief and chanted "Tarraingt!" It meant pull, but my thoughts imagined a mess of ropes, which then my mana created. The energy streamed from my tattoos and solidified into several blue ropes that shot out and wrapped around his upper torso before he opened the door. I pulled and he fell backward, hard, and screaming. The sack was dropped.

    He sat up, struggling to break free from my construct. "Please, freak. Don''t kill me. I-I didn''t know you were here. I have a wife. I need my fix."

    "I ain¡¯t gonna kill you," I said. ¡°I want you to leave.¡±

    He placed his hands together to plea, so scared of me. It''s a common reaction to terrans: they see you as nothing but a demon to them. I never wanted to harm him, just stop him before things got bad. Or was he too drugged up he forgot most of the current events?

    "Please, I won''t do it again. I swear."

    "Listen, sir, if..."

    Then a shadow from the fermentation hall crossed over yelling "Yah!" and smashed a half-filled wine bottle across the thief''s face. The thief dropped to the floor fast without seeing the attacker. I was startled so much my spell withered and dissolved away.

    Under the ceiling lights, Jaruka Teal slouched over the unconscious Man. With the lights on, he looked far worse off, like he hadn¡¯t taken a shower in weeks. His skindreads were so misshapen and jagged as swelled tree roots, his face was half-covered by them, with one black eye¡¯s gold iris exposed, blinking at the thief before him. He was clothed, but not cleaned in a while. I picked off fresh dark red stains on his shirt.

    ¡°Jaruka, what the hell!?¡± I yelled.

    He looked up to me with a twitching eye, slouching and swaying a little.

    He raised the broken bottle¡¯s neck in his hand, then slurred, ¡°Bastard spilled my drink.¡±

    Jaruka¡¯s eye rolled back into his skull as he fell backward to the floor. Snores followed suit.

    ¡°Crap. Not again.¡±

 Chapter 2

    9:07 AM

    ¡°That¡¯s the whole story? Really?¡± Sheriff Conan said with high skepticism ¡°If I had any chance without those satellites in space, just¡­ You¡¯re lucky the poor bastard has a concussion and a cut cheek.¡±

    You and me both, Conan.

    Waking up to this was not how I wanted my day to start, but I had thoughts to get Robert¡¯s lucky shovel and clobber the guy. Only thoughts.

    Jaruka was lying on his back on the front lawn, holding a bag of ice to his head Katie got. ¡°Tone your voice down,¡± Jaruka said, ¡°this hangover needs attention. It might rupture a vein.¡±

    ¡°Attention? I¡¯m the one needing attention here.¡±

    ¡°Get in line!¡±

    See? The level of indecency and carelessness from Jaruka was toxic whenever drunk or recovering from being drunk. If me, Katie, and the totems weren¡¯t surrounded by him, Conan could have started World War III. Or Armageddon. Or something.

    I kicked Jaruka in the shoulder. He scowled at me with his gold and black eyes. Decorated and respected gunslinger of Nova Company my butt. The front of his shirt was almost covered in red wine stains. His skindreads looked more overgrown and swollen than a few days ago, several were stuck together on the left side of his head. His green skin looked paler than the deeper hue. He smelled horrible, like rotting oranges in the summer. Every day, Jaruka looked to be putting himself closer and closer to being admitted to the hospital. Katie and I couldn¡¯t do shit about it, he refused to be helped.

    ¡°Look,¡± Jaruka said. ¡°They guy had it coming. I saw him in the store minutes before Katie came. His voice irritated me, mumbling stuff so much my headache got worse. Do I want Ms. Walsh to get killed? Scott or Jonathan might blow their top. I saved her.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re missing the point, jerk. Katie was handling herself. She said so. You¡¯re the one in trouble here,¡± I said.

    ¡°It¡¯s better than him six feet under.¡±

    ¡°Unbelievable!¡± Katie said raising her arms.

    The EMTs finished rolling the thief into the ambulance, but I heard one of them cringe. The thief¡¯s right eye was covered in blood-stained bandages. Another EMT closed the doors and walked around to the front, the other stayed inside to monitor him.

    ¡°T-That¡¯s how deep humans bury corpses, right?¡± Jaruka then asked.

    ¡°Wrong words,¡± Arana said from Katie¡¯s shoulder. I was still not sure how Arana¡¯s talons weren¡¯t digging into her shirt. Or skin. My totem, Keeji, hadn¡¯t said much. He kept on staring at the EMTs with his tongue sticking out.

    Jaruka stood up fast catching me by surprise then looked down at Conan. ¡°You humans suck. Listen, I¡¯m done repeating my story. The thief is captured. Nobody¡¯s dead. Let me ice this hangover for Goddess sake.¡±

    ¡°Call me Giorgio but I don¡¯t buy it,¡± Conan said. ¡°You might¡¯ve felt murderous this morning, maybe Ms. Walsh annoyed you, or whatever you did in San Diego to make them angry. This could¡¯ve been attempted murder.¡±

    Jaruka cracked his neck. ¡°Are you calling me a liar?¡±

    ¡°Are you, alien scumbag?¡±

    Jaruka flexed his hands and balled them in fists. I then gripped his arm. ¡°Easy, Jaruka. Remember the Spires,¡± Scott said.

    ¡°Damn them,¡± he growled with clenched teeth. He jerked his arm from me just as Conan¡¯s partner walked up from their police cruiser.

    ¡°Conan, I found his identity,¡± Conan¡¯s partner said.

    ¡°What did you find?¡± Conan asked but still stared up at Jaruka.

    He paused before saying, ¡°Oh, uh, can I wait?¡±

    ¡°Just say it, Cabral. I got this.¡±

    Jaruka smirked.

    ¡°Name and face match a known fugitive in the database,¡± Officer Cabral said. ¡°Guy¡¯s a drug addict and four-time burglar across the county. Been unable to catch him until just now.¡±

    Jaruka laughed and said, ¡°Goddess granted me luck today. Conan, I¡¯m in the bounty hunting business. Let¡¯s talk about cashing in.¡±

    ¡°Oh no, not this time,¡± Conan said, and Jaruka¡¯s smile diminished. ¡°Rewarding a foreigner is not my responsibility.¡± The more he spoke, the more agitated he got. He was itching to start a fight. One finger on Jaruka¡¯s green skin could prime the Titan Spires in space. One punch could fire one, or several. Conan is a stand-up guy and honorable, but Jaruka¡¯s idiocy and shenanigans made him bitter and outspoken the past few months. The entire county police force was still dealing with high crime since The Wave, and none wanted to add Jaruka to their stress. So, it was left with Conan and Cabral to answer calls all related to him. I¡¯d hate to hear how he got stuck with it.

    ¡°Hold this,¡± Jaruka said and shoved the ice pack into my chest. He got up to Conan¡¯s face. ¡°You wanna throw down! Huh? Is that it? Let¡¯s do it. I can make a real punching bag out of you two seconds flat. Come on! Make your beer belly useful!¡±

    Conan backed off. I caught his hand almost unclipping his sidearm.

    Katie and I snatched each of Jaruka¡¯s arms before he raised them. Keeji started barking. Arana flew off Katie¡¯s shoulder. We were able to match Jaruka¡¯s strength, despite my empty mana heart. Good thing the chest pains were gone.

    ¡°Drop it, man, it¡¯s not worth it!¡± I yelled.

    ¡°Remember what Deryl said. Remember what Denverbay ordered,¡± Katie said.

    ¡°Crog them! Crog all of them! Let me at him.¡± Jaruka fought our grapple, but we kept at it, keeping a wide distance from Conan. I dug my heels before Jaruka leaned forward. With a grunt from both of us, we pulled Jaruka a few feet back.

    ¡°Wait ¡®till I¡¯m sober and whaling on your ass with a warhammer! Don¡¯t you croging call me a murderer!¡±

    ¡°The fuck is a warhammer?¡± Conan asked.

    ¡°It¡¯s not a croging joke!¡±

    Conan shook his head and walked off with Cabral. ¡°Forget this, we got our statements. Mr. Dunne, make sure you muzzle him with hocus pocus or something so he doesn¡¯t chase us.¡±

    They entered the police cruiser with Conan driving and drove through the open estate gates at the end of the driveway. The ambulance followed them with the sirens on.

    Waiting outside the gate, the usual crackpots and alien fanatics that camped near Jaruka¡¯s campsite were watching on. A mixed bag of people with what I can describe having fewer brain cells than a normal human. They followed every action of the six-foot-one Halcunac, chasing the pop-culture internet high.

    ¡°Jaruka, get a movie deal!¡±

    ¡°You showed that pig who¡¯s boss!¡±

    ¡°Have my babies!¡±

    One person I saw livestreamed as he spoke into a mic, wearing a big pointed tin foil hat.

    Jaruka jerked away from our grasp, picked up the nearest rock from the garden, and threw it at them. ¡°Go droll over someone else!¡± The rock missed one person. Jaruka then yelled when a jagged, overgrown skindread smacked his eye.

    I had it and quickly slapped Jaruka on the back of his head, right over the stump behind his skull. He stopped, turned to me with a long ¡°Ow¡± and a twitch in his left eye.

    ¡°Backyard. Now,¡± I yelled with a thumb jab.

    ¡°But those vultures.¡±

    ¡°Now, Jaruka! You and me. Keeji, Arana, get those guys away so Katie can close the gates.¡±

    ¡°Can do, buddy!¡± Keeji said, then ran and barked at them. Arana flew off from the yard¡¯s embedded Wave crystal to follow Keeji. If the barks weren¡¯t working, sharp talons were intimidating.

    ¡°You sure you can handle him?¡± Katie asked. ¡°I can cast a binding spell if he runs.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m fine, just focus on the weirdos,¡± I said, before pushing Jaruka. ¡°Move it!¡±

    ¡°Alright, alright! I¡¯m going,¡± Jaruka said. Katie walked off, her arms charged with mana to create a shield to push them away.

    We went to the estate¡¯s backyard through the side path. The garden plots and raised beds bloomed with flowers various vegetables Brenda maintained. The backyard had an impressive view of the Temecula Valley and vineyards. Once out of sight from the crowd, I pushed Jaruka further in. He stumbled forward to the grass, a few feet away from the stone fire pit and lounge chairs, but kept his footing.

    ¡°Jesus, Jaruka, you had to do it again. You brain dead or something?¡±

    ¡°Those humans annoy me,¡± he said. ¡°Every day I deal with their habitual praise and nonsense. You know, none of them contribute to your communities. Complete leeches.¡±

    ¡°Answer my question.¡±

    He flipped his skindreads as he turned to me. ¡°No. Look, just let this one go. Today¡¯s a rough day for me.¡±

    ¡°Not this time, Jaruka. You¡¯re in deep shit now. God, this is the third time we found you hungover in the warehouse. You drank five bottles. And this time you almost killed someone.¡±

    You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

    ¡°I saved Katie.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not the point right now.¡±

    Jaruka wobbled a little and leaned on one chair. ¡°Are we done here?¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    He wanted to end the talk in any way, maybe wanted to knock me out and run to his Howler Cycle. Not now. He had respect from Nova Company, but certainly none from us. Four months of this and he was getting worse. He was supposed to help train Katie¡¯s magic skills but never did. Keeping my spellbook to study wasn¡¯t drawing any good conclusions why Katie and I are what we are today. Any other responsibilities he had were shoved into the dumpster for all I care.

    ¡°Get serious here,¡± I said. ¡°You really wanted to hit Conan?¡±

    ¡°He started it. It got personal.¡±

    ¡°At what part? Again, you almost killed someone. What would happen if Denverbay found out? What if the President or the press found out?¡±

    Jaruka slapped the chair at the fire pit aside in anger. ¡°I maimed him! He wasn¡¯t going to die. And if he was, it would be by my sword or gun. No death, no call for quill head. If any luck, he¡¯s got time before his tattoo shows up and erase that scar away. And he better learn his lesson to read occasionally.¡±

    ¡°Slim chance.¡± I felt my tail whip from my anger.

    Jaruka belched to the side, an uncomfortable one from him. ¡°Kid, try living in my boots. Last night was rough.¡±

    ¡°Obviously,¡± I said. ¡°What did it this time? Another conspiracy theorist got in your grill? Something about San Diego?¡±

    Jaruka raised a finger to pause, and said, ¡°San Diego.¡±

    ¡°Haven¡¯t watched the news this morning. Better not be what I think it is.¡±

    ¡°It isn¡¯t,¡± he said.

    ¡°Then say it. What happened?¡±

    And so he shared what triggered his desire to drink hundreds of dollars of Walsh Estate wine.

    He was observing a San Diego community in the suburbs. The dense populace was getting too scared of terrans that it drove divisions between helping them or ignoring them. To Jaruka, he was there to record events for Xi¡¯Tra and the Archives, how far the transformations are changing human culture. To me, it sounded like he agitated some people, offended them, and made one police officer slug him in the chin.

    That activated a Titan Spire. Nobody was killed, but a small city park was composted in seconds by the beam. From green grass and fifty-year-old trees to fertilized soil. He escaped before the authorizes pursued any further.

    ¡°What the hell is wrong with you?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Nothing,¡± he answered.

    I shook my head. ¡°Jaruka, Earth isn¡¯t your speakeasy, we¡¯re not your babysitters, and you¡¯re not above the law here. We¡¯re trying our best with you and you keep fucking up every time. This is the third time drinking the wine without paying. In baseball, three strikes and you¡¯re out.¡±

    I was tired of hearing his story and I could picture what the morning news showed to people, making it a negative narrative and such

    ¡°Get Brill on the phone,¡± I said sternly.

    Jaruka scoffed to the side. ¡°Seriously?¡±

    ¡°I am.¡±

    ¡°Might not work,¡± he said. ¡°He and Nova might be on contract and their Slipspace drive is isolated.¡±

    In others words, a big fat childish no in my face.

    ¡°Get. The. Box,¡± I pressed. ¡°Or I will.¡±

    ¡°Slipspace transmitter,¡± Jaruka said with an irritated tone. ¡°Can¡¯t you remember that?¡±

    ¡°Still an alien Pelican case to me. Go get it. I want to talk to him.¡± Maybe a chance for all of us to have some peace. ¡°I want him and Denverbay to let us kick you out. We can¡¯t let you ruin our lives like this every day. The morning news is enough already.¡±

    ¡°Haven¡¯t you heard? We¡¯re stuck like this un¡­¡± Jaruka paused. ¡°You know what? Let¡¯s try. See if Brill can convince the dunderhead to change the terms or a ticket off this blasted rock.¡± The certainty in his voice was mixed with rage. If Denverbay does change things, he could be relocated.

    Jaruka belched again, but I noticed a wave of nausea on his face. ¡°He now, just¡­ oh gross!¡± I happened to get a whiff from the burp. Rotten eggs and vinegar. I gagged but kept my composure.

    ¡°Oh no,¡± Jaruka said. He grabbed his stomach and belched again, but then heard a gurgle from him.

    ¡°No! Not on the grass, not on the grass!¡± I yelled.

    Jaruka rolled his eyes, crawled to the fire pit, and aggressively puked into it. The dark red wine mixed with the grey ash and light brown chunks and slurry of whatever he ate. Pudding? Bread? Both?

    ¡°Worthless,¡± I said.

    ¡°Am not,¡± Jaruka said, then threw up again.

    <hr>

    Hampton Inn

    Alexandra, Louisiana

    9:31 AM

    Crap.

    I felt like utter crap. Insomnia fed on my stressed-out mind, toppled with a temple-pulsing headache. Still terrified. My body fought with my brain for sleep, but my brain was stern, for I still thought about the ghost from last night.

    The cops haven¡¯t found me yet, or not finding me? I thought to myself.

    Alex was gone. He took his gear and luggage to the airport hours ago, already on a plane to Boston by now. My second ghost hunting partner, gone. A college friend. I had nobody then.

    Did I go too far? I thought that every minute also.

    The hotel¡¯s lobby had a few people including me. I had a pastry as I nursed my coffee cup. My right leg kept jumping. I had so much adrenaline in me I¡¯d run laps around the hotel if I wanted to. No, I had to wait for my friend to come. If anybody recognized me, there would be a real problem. Nobody hadn¡¯t yet, or else they raise the same questions about my sister and the asshole alien.

    Did Ren¨¦e call the cops on me yet? The military? Pro-terran sympathizers?

    The paranoia within me was strong.

    Tabitha knew where I was and she could¡¯ve told her, but I also didn¡¯t know if she was conscious or not. I felt so sorry for putting Tabitha through that. How could I know how dangerous it could be?.

    She was my true eyewitness proof ghosts are manifesting from terran magic. I screwed up.

    If I needed to get out of this jam, I needed real help. I called a friend in the area without saying much. He was Tabitha¡¯s friend too.

    I¡¯m a winemaker by trade. Ghost hunting is just a hobby. I was born, raised, and studied in college winemaking. I love it. Blending is my game. But I¡¯m also an amateur spectrologist. I call the hobby that. It¡¯s a break from pH levels, barrel tastings, and making sure Jaruka does swim in a fermentation tank.

    This issue might end my hobby and stress buster permanently.

    My leg stopped shaking once I noticed him at the lobby doors.

    Todd Benjamin noticed me, reacting to my current state with great concern. I¡¯ve known Todd for years, and it was Tabitha that introduced him to me. He was a local tour guide for his day job, jazz club pianist on weekends in Derry. His blood, his jokes, flows with Louisiana history, down to preaching the family tree up to before Louisiana was a state. I relied on him for local ghost stories and haunted locations whenever interested, but more so to chit-chat with at the bar. His hair got grayer and thinner by the years, but it heightened his age. The black man always wore a black shirt, slacks, and leather shoes. His favorite denim jacket was on, regardless of the weather outside.

    He approached me saying, ¡°God, son, you look like hell. Ran into a hooligan last night?¡±

    ¡°Thank you, thank you,¡± I said, standing up fast to grab and shake his hand. The table was almost knocked over. Todd caught it. ¡°I can¡¯t say much. Shit happened last night.¡±

    ¡°Okay. Might not be as interesting as your home now. The news is up and arms on something.¡±

    I closed my eyes and groaned. Dammit, what now¡­ NO! Not right now!

    ¡°Don¡¯t remind me,¡± I said.

    ¡°Christ, Robert, you sick or something?¡±

    ¡°No it¡¯s¡­ come on. It¡¯s not private here.¡±

    ¡°Oh, that big!?¡± He asked low. ¡°I¡¯m sure Tabitha was a big help.¡±

    She was.

    We entered the elevator and I hyper-pressed the number two button like a mad man until the doors closed. I exhaled and leaned forward.

    ¡°Son, you¡¯re scaring me,¡± Todd said.

    ¡°I had nothing but coffee and carbs. No sleep. Been scared to shit since last night.¡± I slammed my palm on the elevator wall. ¡°Come on, move faster.¡±

    ¡°Stop scaring me, son. Is Tabitha okay? I-Is in trouble too?¡±

    Looking up, I had nothing secure to say, or truthful. The elevator could¡¯ve had their security camera on.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± I said. ¡°Trouble? No, I think, or¡­ I just don¡¯t know.¡±

    The elevator stopped and the doors opened. I walked out fast to the hotel room with Todd trailing behind me. I stayed in the farthest room from the elevator or emergency stairs. It wasn¡¯t a problem booking it, but now it was a bad mistake. The walk felt slower than before if the coffee or adrenaline altered time itself.

    ¡°Wait up, I¡¯m not as young as you,¡± Todd said.

    ¡°Keep it down, Todd,¡± I whispered.

    I slid the keycard into the door handle, yanked Todd inside, and closed the door fast.

    ¡°Fucking shitting my pants for twelve hours, Todd! Shit got real too fucking fast!¡± I screamed and walked into my disorganized hotel room.

    Todd kept his distance. I¡¯m not a mild-mannered man like Scott or peppy as my sister, but when I¡¯m mad, people feel it.

    ¡°Jesus, Robert, what are you talking about?¡± Todd asked.

    ¡°Tabitha got hurt!¡± Just say the truth to Todd, that¡¯ll start everything. ¡° Or I think she wasn¡¯t hurt, or¡­ something. Todd, this is important, but I need your help. Hear me out.¡±

    I told him everything. It was hard describing the ghost with all sense of understanding, and to be frank, Todd was a bit sick of it. Just thinking of that wide mouth swallowing my head was hard to forget.

    I¡¯ve been working on this theory ever since I binged watched supernatural amateur videos after New Year¡¯s. Mostly terran videos. Like their health, their tails, the fashion, like everything. Not much with the magic, Katie displays that every day. It was hard to sift through the xenophobic videos, burying the good ones with smear campaigns and utter dumbassery.

    Several of them were gaining attention in blogs and charts, but not getting mass media attention. The terrans¡ªsome teenagers and one man that lost his fortune¡ªwere accidentally summoning ghosts. Real ghosts. Just so you know, ghost videos before the Wave exist but are mostly fake or inconclusive. I noticed patterns across all of them.

    Terran charges up.

    Terran¡¯s mana burst of their tattoos by some unknown force.

    Ghost manifests from the mana.

    Terran feints.

    Some ghosts were disfigured. Some could speak. Some did it both, like last night. Mine was a rare one, the violent kind.

    Here¡¯s the part I¡¯m mad about. The major media hasn¡¯t acknowledged it. No one. There was one newscast long ago of a specialist demonizing magic, and as he mentioned ghosts, the anchors cut the interview mid-sentence, straight to commercial. Later the specialist was gone. He tweeted he was escorted out as the studio threatened to sue for spreading slander that wasn¡¯t true, even though he was there only to spread lies upon lies about terrans.

    I couldn¡¯t take it. I was too into it and I wanted real answers.

    In comes Tabitha.

    She was the only one willing enough to help support my theory. I heard she transformed weeks ago and then hid from her community, she was into blending terran magic with her voodoo practice for good intention, with insane and spectacular results, like blessings, rituals, and ideas for wedding ceremonies.

    ¡°¡­I drove her home unconscious with Alex, Todd,¡± I continued explaining. ¡°The hospitals wouldn¡¯t allow Tabitha in with that ban in place, and the terran hospital at the community center was full. I had to take her home. Rene¨¦ was there, and she freaked out seeing Tabitha in my arms. I left her on the porch couch with Rene¨¦, then we had to speed out of the town before the whole neighborhood caught us.¡±

    ¡°Good Lord,¡± Todd said. He was quiet as I shared the story.

    ¡°Yeah. Thank God you came¡ª¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re a real dick!¡± He startled me. ¡°Come on. Using Tabitha for this hair-brained theory of yours. What the hell were you thinking?¡±

    ¡°Everything! I thought of everything, Todd. I did not expect it¡¯d be that fast.¡±

    Todd looked he wanted to strangle me. ¡°Robert, this is Tabitha you¡¯re talking about. I should be up there seeing her, not seeing you.¡±

    ¡°Telling the truth was a risk and you know that.¡± Todd knows very well about me, my family, and him. ¡°Please, Todd, I need help.¡±

    ¡°Nah, uh, not me.¡± He shook his head fast. ¡°This is way out of line for you. So unlike you. Good luck explaining this to the cops.¡±

    I stopped him before he got closer to the door. He pushed, and I pushed back. ¡°Come on, Todd. This is important.¡±

    ¡°How? What¡¯s important? Tabitha might still be in a coma.¡±

    ¡°Exactly. We don¡¯t know, and I need to find out,¡± I said. ¡°Look. Hear me out. Just go to Tabitha¡¯s house and ask her to call me. Even check if Rene¨¦ called the cops and somehow call it off. I stuck my nose out for you plenty of times. I know I messed up, so just do this for me. Keep her and the neighborhood off my back until I¡¯m in the air. You do this,¡± I choked before saying something I wanted to avoid since I woke up, ¡°you and Tabitha will never hear from me again. I promise.¡±

    Todd was the kind of man that would do anything for him. I knew him for years to gain his trust, but I had to give it up.

    ¡°I¡¯m not your carrier pigeon,¡± he said.

    ¡°This one time, man. That¡¯s all I need. I can¡¯t go near the neighborhood and I¡¯m certain people will recognize you. Come on, Todd, just this one last thing and I¡¯m out of your hair for good.¡±

    Money was an option. Community service was an option. Todd owed me a favor from way back debunking an old woman¡¯s ¡°haunted¡± house, but it was an unbolted copper water line hitting the frame and taking her to the hospital after noticing how bad her cognitive skills were. We saved her life.

    Todd considered my offer. ¡°This is it? We¡¯re ending this here and now?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± I said. ¡°You have my word.¡±

    He thought for a moment, shaking his head. ¡°Fine. I¡¯ll do it. One time and done, Robert. Anything else, the first chance you call Tabitha, her sister, or me, then boom, off to jail. You clear?¡±

    I nodded and shook my head vigorously. ¡°Crystal.¡±

    Todd then left without another word. I had hours before my flight home that night. The odds of it all turning against me were too great.

    My paranoia came back and I had to sit on the bed to breathe. I wanted to sleep. My body refused.

    ¡°Please, just this once,¡± I said with teared-up eyes.

 Chapter 3

    Walsh Estate Winery

    12:07 PM

    ¡°He can¡¯t hold his drink. Every time he¡¯s in the warehouse, Katie¡¯s family is losing money, Brill,¡± Scott said, loud enough to grow my headache.

    ¡°He starts fights for no reason,¡± Katie said, compounding my headache further.

    The back-and-forth banter from them started ever since the video call started. Us reaching Brill without issue was a sure note that I lost any luck on this planet. Sitting on the couch facing the Slipspace transmitter case on the coffee table, the veins in my skull pulsed. The ice pack pressed to my right temple wasn¡¯t helping. The pain pills from my med kit haven¡¯t kicked in yet.

    ¡°He never picks up after himself.¡±

    ¡°He scares my brothers and parents. Robert is visiting friends in Louisiana because of him.¡±

    ¡°Jaruka nearly stabbed a guy at the camp with a beach chair. Who does that!?¡±

    I groaned. ¡°For the last time, he didn¡¯t die,¡± I said.

    ¡°He could¡¯ve.¡±

    Katie leaned forward over the couch. ¡°We went from selling wine to being a doorstop for people to see him. He is literally hurting my family¡¯s business. If anything else, he¡¯s caring off our loyal customers.¡±

    Although, I was fortunate her parents weren¡¯t in the same room. It was Katie¡¯s wish. They were still out dealing with the little one¡¯s school issues. Seriously, that kid needs some self-defense skills.

    ¡°Oh, and just to make matter worse,¡± Scott said, ¡°he just puked up merlot and God knows what he ate into the backyard fire pit. Hundreds of dollars wasted!¡±

    Arana spoke up from the left nightstand. ¡°The unruliest person ever, more so than Jacob,¡± she said. ¡°The level of disrespect is just sour and toxic. How you or Nova Company put up with him is a mystery.¡±

    ¡°He never says my name,¡± Keeji said, a couple of feet from my face, sobbing. ¡°It¡¯s always, ¡®move it, mutt!¡¯ and sometimes shoving me away. I hurt.¡±

    I rolled my eyes.

    The case¡¯s top screen displayed Brill, staring me in silence since the call. Not even an eye flinch from the Remuzen. He rested his chin under his folded hand. The Endeavour battleship captain, owner of Nova Company, and a close friend of mine for years, giving me the father¡¯s stare. His Modalan assistant, Irna, stood by him in battle-ready regalia, her twin scabbards on each hip. She shared the same reaction as her captain, only standing and holding her touchpad to take notes.

    After the locals finished talking, Brill sighed and blinked, slow. ¡°Anything else?¡± He asked.

    ¡°Pretty much all of it,¡± Katie said.

    Brill leaned back and said, ¡°Ms. Walsh, Mr. Dunne, nothing you said is new to me or Nova. It¡¯s how he is on bad days.¡±

    ¡°Only bad days, Brill. Everybody else tolerates me,¡± I said.

    ¡°Neither does Kantra. However, your presence on Terra Firma is¡­ embarrassing. I¡¯m with them, old friend.¡±

    I dropped the ice pack. The Goru Slipspace Drive was embedded in the bottom case. It glowed purple as the three rings circled and cracked the crystal to open the portal between this dimension and Slipspace itself, enabling instant communication with him. I leaned forward with its purple glow on my face. ¡°Come on, this is all because of Benali. This planet is causing the worst cabin fever imaginable.¡± My stomach churned again and I held it down. Damn hangover. I leaned back.

    ¡°Seriously, how do you and the others deal with him?¡± Scott asked.

    Brill shook his head. ¡°Now¡¯s not the time to discuss that. This call was just to complain? Slipspace crystals aren¡¯t cheap you know.¡±

    The Slipspace crystal in the drive, what made the instantaneous comm link possible, was not my ration from the Republic. I still have a stash from Benali back from the stupid survey mission, hidden away.

    ¡°What else is there to do, Brill,¡± Scott said. ¡°We need him out, far from us. At least try to renegotiate with Denverbay and dump him somewhere else.¡±

    Brill shook his head again. ¡°Even if I could, Denverbay made up his mind. You two and the Walsh family are the only ones he trusts.¡±

    Or that I annoyed Denverbay so much about the job or where my new ship is, he¡¯d rather ignore me and focus on Council stuff. Dunderhead. That Creosian gets my skindreads in a bunch.

    ¡°But we''re sick of being his babysitter. This agreement is driving everybody crazy!¡±

    I sat up and faced Scott. I got dizzy a little. ¡°Just get over it. I¡¯m stuck. You both are stuck. Deal with it.¡±

    ¡°Jaruka, when I get my mana heart filled, I¡¯ll have no problem squaring off with you.¡±

    ¡°You think you can beat me?¡±

    ¡°I know karate.¡±

    ¡°Like to see you try. I¡¯ve studied some martial arts. I can counter every move you make and pin you under my ass!¡±

    ¡°Magic can enhance it,¡± Scott said. ¡°I can out-strong arm you.¡±

    A slight curl in my lips formed. ¡°Still want a fistfight? I¡¯m game! Let¡¯s throw down, pacifist!¡±

    ¡°Gunslinger Teal, stand down,¡± Brill ordered, but his command meant nothing to me. He¡¯s off-world. He had no power over me.

    I was inches from Scott¡¯s face and my hot breath made him wince. ¡°Terran magic can be strong and unpredictable, but I can get by. Let¡¯s settle this; crippled mutant versus off-worlder. That¡¯ll give those camp leeches something to gossip for a week.¡±

    ¡°Bring it you selfish asshole!¡± Scott yelled.

    ¡°Guys, cool it!¡± Katie screamed, then a high-pitched sound of a dozen Zizel Beach gulls attacked my hearing. My hands covered my earholes, but the sound was so much I collapsed to the floor nearly hitting my head on the coffee table. I thought my temples would pop out from so much pain. It lasted for a few seconds so that I can collect myself. If you never heard those birds after agitating one of them, don¡¯t.

    I looked back and noticed Katie Walsh removing her thumb and finger from her mouth, both glowing with tattoos then quickly disappearing.

    ¡°Enough with the damn whistle spell!¡± I snarled. ¡°Another one of those and my head will pop!¡±

    Scott gathered himself from behind the couch, shaking his head and popping his eardrums. Keeji was affected, whimpering out the back door. Arana stood unfazed and emotionless.

    ¡°What the gods was that?¡± Brill asked. He and his assistant were clearing their ears. ¡°Irna, get on the horn and settle the crew.¡±

    ¡°What?!¡± Irna yelled.

    ¡°I said calm the crew down!¡±

    ¡°On it, sir!¡± Irna walked out of view.

    Brill pulled his pinky from his right ear hole to restore hearing. ¡°Walsh, was that you?¡±

    ¡°Sorry but I had no choice,¡± Katie said. ¡°You okay, Scott?¡±

    Scott raised a thumb.

    ¡°Look, what Scott and Jaruka are saying is right. Either he has to leave Temecula or we force him out. And him staying here gathering information about the terran issue is driving him crazy as much as us.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t forget the station manager,¡± I added. ¡°He still won¡¯t talk to me.¡± Not only he is the overseer of the Titan Spire network around Terra Firma but also oversees the Slipspace waygate, a direct line from this planet to Creos.

    Brill shook his head. ¡°Fighting to not do the job is what¡¯s driving you nuts. Listen, Jaruka, I¡¯ve also seen what you said to Xi¡¯Tra since you landed.¡± He pressed several light bars on his desk to load up holoscreens of data. ¡°Even though nobody outside doesn¡¯t know what is happening to Terra Firma besides the Endeavour, Denverbay, and authorized Archive members, secrecy is all our priority. Now this place. Am¡­A¡­Amst.¡±

    Groaning, I said, ¡°Amsterdam.¡±

    ¡°Right,¡± he beamed. ¡°Says here a prostitute¡¯s leg, cut off from a gangrene infection when she was little, grew back during her terran transformation. Rapid limb regeneration. Must be painful, considering the shitty video you sent.¡±

    Why bring that up? I thought.

    I didn¡¯t take the video, I had to retrieve it from the planet¡¯s internet (strange name). I was still on probation to not leave Temecula until last month, and the dropship was unflyable for reasons. Had to figure out the technology by myself then send it to Xi¡¯Tra. It was the first piece I ever sent. Most of it got corrupted during transmission.

    Brill read one. ¡°Then the New York raids. Droves of humans injuring and killing terrans and tattooed humans in sight, demanding a terran free city and total isolation. President Winchester had to assist the state¡¯s National Guard. The few gathered articles and videos were nothing compared to thousands of pieces picked up from the station, fed directly to the Archives. Come on, Jaruka, Nova and the Academy trained you better.¡±

    ¡°Still landlocked,¡± I said and showed him my ankle bracelet on my left leg.

    ¡°And you didn¡¯t talk to anybody, even rejected Denverbay¡¯s request to leave the town.¡± Brill shook his head. There were moments in my report that I picked out humans with blood-red eyes, but I was sure he glazed over that.

    Reapers were part of the raid, I was sure of it.

    ¡°And the mass genocide in Africa and the Middle East? We barely have anything on their religious or political views on terrans besides the Utah Massacre you know much about.¡±

    The terran couple cringed.

    ¡°And that church incident I just read about?¡± Brill continued. ¡°There¡¯s barely any reason why you wanted to provoke them.¡±

    ¡°Oh please, I wrote it in plain sight,¡± Jaruka said. ¡°They were exercising a terran boy with laughable techniques. You know, I¡¯d be better off if Xi¡¯Tra was down here doing the work, not me.¡±

    ¡°She hates traveling,¡± Katie said.

    I glanced at her. ¡°Thank you,¡± I said with disdain.

    Xi¡¯Tra, much like her father (complements to you because I¡¯m not spineless), is great at her job. A true hunter of the truth. She has the means to research it all. Unlike me, I still have the outcome in my sight in the next two years: a council trial and firing squad.

    ¡°Three months,¡± Brill said, tapping a thin finger on his desk. ¡°Three months on Terra Firma and this is all the Archives got. An Academy scholar can do a better job than this.¡±

    I took that as an obvious ploy. ¡°Let¡¯s hire one. A magic-born one too to help translate Scott¡¯s spellbook.¡±

    ¡°Aren¡¯t you done with it yet?¡± Scott asked.

    ¡°Can it.¡± Since I relocated the dropship, I¡¯ve borrowed Scott¡¯s spellbook to read from. He has no mana to use, and he could read from Katie¡¯s spellbook without issue.

    ¡°Still considered classified,¡± Brill said. ¡°Even I don¡¯t know what any of it means.¡±

    ¡°Come on, Brill, be reasonable.¡± I jammed a finger to the back of my head, to the stump. ¡°Where¡¯s my help when I asked? I told Denverbay this is not a one-man field job. This needs a team.¡±

    I could feel the terrans and totem¡¯s eyes on me. Why I haven¡¯t included them for help are very many reasons. The top reason is I don¡¯t want them touching advanced technology, like the transmitter case, or the dropship. Foolish humans can get curious without a second thought. Katie is a journalist and Scott was studying to be one, but even they wouldn¡¯t gather what I was looking for.

    I¡¯d rather work with someone I know, or a species that is Republic-included.

    ¡°You really are selfish,¡± Brill said, and he was right.

    ¡°Old news to me.¡±

    Scott scuffed to the side. ¡°But are others coming? We were told that long ago,¡± he said.

    Brill stretched his neck by tilting his head, a long day it seemed. ¡°Look. I wasn¡¯t gonna say this until after the mission, but you let me no choice,¡± he said, and I forgot about my headache and the ringing in my ears. ¡°Denverbay told me a GMT specialist cleared customs.¡±

    I grabbed the case with both my hands. ¡°Please Goddess, tell me it¡¯s Balcusten!¡± I demanded.

    Brill didn¡¯t react, but he nodded. ¡°The one you requested.¡±

    ¡°YES!¡± I yelled. ¡°The system works!¡±

    ¡°Who¡¯s that?¡± Katie asked.

    ¡°Domoja Balcusten. An old friend of mine. He can get this GMT event figured out.¡±

    ¡°Like finding a cure?¡± We could all hear how worried Katie got. Whereas everybody on the planet is looking for a cure, some like Katie accepted their gifts.

    ¡°But it¡¯s only one. There was a second DEM scientist but that was canceled. Denverbay hasn¡¯t told me why yet.¡± Brill rubbed his hands, but how he said it was he held back.

    ¡°Did Denverbay say when they¡¯re coming?¡± I asked, wishing it was in an hour.

    ¡°Paperwork and immunizations take time,¡± he said, and that¡¯s universal. An alarm from the Endeavour sounded off and Brill¡¯s room shook.

    ¡°Captain, we arrived in the Meljan System,¡± Irna said through the comms. ¡°You are needed on the bridge.¡±

    Brill set his hand on his large head. ¡°Sorry, old friend. Frontier disputes with three species are happening and we¡¯re hired for defense.¡±

    ¡°Oh bull, Brill. We just started the call. When is my new ship coming?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s coming with the GMT expert, but again, I don¡¯t know when. Look, Jaruka, I¡¯m out of time. Once we have this mess secure, I¡¯ll contact you again. Just remember to stay out of the gutter for a while.¡± He got closer to the screen as he stood. ¡°And above all, remember your promise.¡±

    I craned my jaw. ¡°Still do,¡± I said.

    Then he cut the feed. The Slipspace Drive in the case shut down, letting the Slipspace crystal collapse into itself, closing the rift.

    Okay. Good news. Domoja is coming to Terra Firma. My new ship is arriving. Don¡¯t know who¡¯s piloting it, wish I could ask about that, but Brill had other issues to deal with. I badgered Denverbay for updates to the point he flat-out ignores me, and that call was the only glimmer of hope for a new home.

    More so, when he talked about the paperwork, he sounded nervous. Man if the hanger crew screwed up the ship¡¯s paint job I¡¯ll be pissed.

    ¡°Okay, bye,¡± Keeji said grinning, seconds later.

    Scott sighed and said, ¡°Well great. We¡¯re getting new aliens, Jaruka gets a new ship, and we¡¯re still stuck with him.¡±

    ¡°Ah shit.¡±

    We all turned to the front door. Jonathan Walsh, Katie¡¯s father, stood there with his keys and wallet being placed in a dish on a table. ¡°Sorry,¡± he said. ¡°Don¡¯t mind eavesdropping?¡±

    Katie shrugged.

    ¡°Listen all you want,¡± I said. ¡°Nothing about it concerns the family. All I know is I¡¯m getting a new home and a familiar face to be with.¡±

    "Just go back to the camp, Jaruka,¡± Scott said with heavy disappointment in his voice.

    I scoffed and packed up the case. I went to the door, with Jonathan stepping aside, and turned to Scott saying, ¡°Sometimes you¡¯re a real folgon dick.¡±

    Scott folded his arms. ¡°Look who¡¯s talking. Whatever¡­ what you just said.¡±

    Not compelled to teach them the meaning, I left without another word.

    I rode my Howler Cycle fast through the valley toward the east, fast enough for those crazy humans at the gates to miss me. It was hot that afternoon. I didn¡¯t care to follow the local traffic laws, but I was aware enough to avoid other drivers.

    Ten minutes from the winery to the campsite. The same amount of Slipspace travel from the plane to Creos. What a reminder. The off-worlder nutbags were still camped outside the refraction shield dome. Like clockwork, when they hear my fusion engine, they have the decency to let me through. All of them were fanatics, crackpots, drug addicts, and spiritual nutjobs all looking for answers from me as if I¡¯m a demigod messenger or a demon.

    And the local governments and military can¡¯t do anything to jeopardize my presence. Whatever.

    I sped past them and through the refraction shield. It¡¯s designed to allow any being registered to enter and repel anything that is not, even bullets and explosives. Air and water are standard. As long as that shield is active, I¡¯m alive I suppose.

    I parked the Howler Cycle by the dropship. The headache was gone at that point.

    I took off my helmet and shook my head. Humans and a few terrans outside the shield watched me in awe like a rare animal in a cage. I got off, grabbed the case, and gave off the only gesture I accepted from them. The bird.

    The dropship was brand new four months ago. Now it was a junkyard relic, most of the damage from my rage and frustration. All the portholes were smashed. Three AG-pads were damaged. I set up space behind the dropship¡ªa chair and sofa I salvaged from a local dumpster, a cheap firepit, and loads of trash¡ªjust to not look at the humans but the small hill east of me.

    Inside the dropship, it was worse. Trash was all over the place. My cot was held up by two crates under the only dark spot to sleep. The far-right corner was covered with a brown sheet. The center row of seats for soldiers to sit while being carried from the battleship to the battlefield and back, was my ¡°table¡± in a sense, covered with trash.

    I set the comm case on the desk by the rear door. I¡¯ll have to install the Drive back into the cockpit¡¯s console later.

    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

    My new home is coming, I thought. It felt like a real win.

    I went for a ration pack box. One bag was left in it, a vacuum-sealed fruit. Cracking it open, the sweet and vinegary aroma calmed my nerves. The fruit can dull the hangover feeling within minutes of consumption, which was a good thing I asked for two cases when Xi¡¯Tra visited me last.

    I split the fruit with my hands and ate the first half, skin and flesh, and spit out the white seeds to the side.

    ¡°Come on, new ship. Come on, Domoja. I need you both,¡± I said, munching on the fruit.

    <hr>

    4:17 PM

    Later that day, I was still ticked off from the video call. We closed the store and warehouse early to clean up, but more so with Scott to clean up my cluttered bedroom. I asked for his help. I was folding and hanging my clean laundry in the closet. With a clearer head, I thought about what Brill said.

    ¡°Maybe the aliens will change him,¡± I said again. ¡°They are his friends, I think. I mean, yeah, Jaruka is a stubborn brick wall, but he sounded happy hearing whoever¡¯s name that was.¡± I snapped my fingers to an idea. ¡°What if they¡¯re not like him?¡±

    ¡°Katie, the last thing me or your family needs is another publicity stunt,¡± Scott said. He finished his share of the cleaning and was sitting on my bed browsing my sticky note-covered and dog-eared spellbook.

    ¡°New aliens will help his situation,¡± he said. ¡°Imagine a tour guide like ¡®Here you can sample the finest wines Temecula Valley offers...or go down the street toward Lake Skinner and watch the single most important discovery of human existence embarrass himself on the five o¡¯clock news. The choice is yours, but the free zoo is worth it.¡¯¡±

    ¡°They stopped doing that,¡± Arana said. I glanced at her, sitting on my de-cluttered desk.

    ¡°No, but I bet it¡¯ll happen again.¡±

    Three tour businesses sprung up just to drive by the campsite, some staying for hours to stare at the ship and Jaruka himself. Who knows if any copied the ship¡¯s technology just several yards away?

    ¡°You think he won¡¯t change when they come?¡± I asked, then leaned out to look him in the eye. ¡°You did when I and others helped you, right?¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s not human.¡±

    ¡°And us too.¡± I finished hanging my shirts. ¡°We can let his friends deal with him. He knows one of them. Do¡­ Domo¡­¡±

    ¡°Domoja Balcusten,¡± Arana finished.

    ¡°Right. If he can change his attitude and keep him out of trouble, there could be hope things turn around.¡±

    ¡°Maybe for your family business and normalcy if the fanatics staff off.¡±

    I heard Keeji whimper and said, ¡°But less friends¡­¡±

    I started putting away my stacks of clean altered pants. Outside of having magic, being a terran has drawbacks.

    ¡°Remember what Jaruka said? Domoja is a GMT expert,¡± Scott said. ¡°He sounds important.¡±

    ¡°You know, he mentioned that before, Brill too.¡± We¡¯ve heard bits and pieces from Denverbay and others, but not much as to what GMT meant. ¡°He might teach us more about magic.¡±

    Scott paused to make me notice. ¡°Or cure us.¡±

    I finished stacking my pants in the cubie, but I looked back to that serious look on Scott¡¯s face, looking back at me with concern.

    ¡°People will ask for it. Your parents will. Governments will.¡±

    ¡°Do you want to be cured?¡± I asked, staring back.

    Scott shook his head. ¡°It¡¯s hard to say. I know if Dad was still alive he¡¯d embrace it. He was a bigger nerd than Mom ever was.¡±

    I smiled. ¡°I bet he would, Scott.¡± I walked to the bed and flopped beside him. ¡°But still, we need help. They might bring a whole army to help.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll believe it when I see it, Katie. Who knows what Denverbay is thinking?¡±

    Scott is a cautious man and the last member of a military family. He can overthink things to the point of going in circles. With his parents gone, it can grow.

    If Arana was his host she would offer straight logic to settle his mind. For instance, Denverbay hasn¡¯t ordered to invade earth. He couldn¡¯t have the will to destroy this planet just for the sake of protecting the Republic.

    ¡°We are figuring things out so there is a chance we can get some real guidance. Come on, Scott. This world needs help. Have some trust in them.¡±

    All the alien talk was depressing me so I had an idea. I set my hand over his and said, ¡°Speaking of trust, wanna see my project¡¯s final form?¡±

    Scott raised himself onto his elbows. ¡°Wait. Let me get the fire extinguisher.¡± He started getting up from my bed, but I pushed him back a little. ¡°Katie, I¡¯m being serious.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t be like that. I¡¯m serious too and I promise this won¡¯t explode,¡± I said and got up from my bed.

    ¡°At least summon a shield first.¡±

    Previous attempts to create enchanted items caused explosions and unexpected reactions, making Scott and my family doubtful of my abilities, but I¡¯m persistent. I took my sweatshirt and flung it into his face with him making an ¡®oof¡¯ sound. ¡°I said shield, not shirt.¡±

    I smirked. If there is any doubt in my abilities, it would be me. ¡°Just see what I got. I¡¯m positive this will work. Arana triple-checked the structure this morning. And if it does blow up,¡± I bit my lip a little, ¡°I¡¯ll set it aside. And maybe some other terran more capable than me create something to get YouTube famous. I promise this is not a weapon. We have enough of them already.¡±

    Scott considered my words, then looked at his totem. ¡°Got any objections?¡± Scott asked him. Keeji tilted his head, his ears flopping over. The totem said nothing.

    Arana flapped her wings to skip from the desk and landed on my bed. She curled her talons in to not puncture my comforter. ¡°Trust us, Scott. This will work. Hope for the best, Katie.¡±

    He sighed and said, ¡°Okay. I¡¯ll let you do it, sorcerous, but don¡¯t come crawling to me when it blows again.¡±

    I smiled. ¡°Perfect.¡±

    On my decluttered desk I cleaned myself, the fragile cube of paper and wooden chopsticks sat. The cube¡¯s bottom was open, while the four sides and the pyramid top had paper panels. Each square and triangle side had the pain-staking work of a dozen black sigils copied from my spellbook arranged and linked to designate the enchantment. If one line was misplaced, if too much or too little ink was applied, or the lines and symbols weren¡¯t clean drawn, the spell could fray and fizzle.

    Every edge was hot glued together (I burned my fingers on the hot glue gun a few times) then wrapped with four copper wires to wrap around a quartz crystal. The first few attempts were a Wave Crystal, but that tripled my charged mana¡¯s reaction output. Quartz turned out to be safe.

    I picked it up from the top by a copper loop in my left hand and the crystal in my right. ¡°The final, final prototype.¡±

    ¡°Out of how many again?¡± Scott asked, looking at my item with skepticism.

    I rolled my eyes. ¡°Party pooper.¡± I then closed my eyes and focused.

    Years ago and young, I grew an, let¡¯s say, an unhealthy obsession with magic and New Age things after my brother, Robert, got me interested. I spent my free time at home reading magic books, fantasy novels, and pretending to be a witch was the highest level of closet dorkiness I ever reached. I didn¡¯t express it out, that would be crazy.

    I didn¡¯t let it run my life. I knew it wasn¡¯t real. A little part of me hoped and wanted it to be real, but the reality was absolute. I wised up, joined the high school volleyball team, went to college for journalism, and packed everything in a huge luggage truck at the foot of my bed. I kept it, reminding me of the good times.

    Asteroid Helen and The Wave changed that. Once magic became real, the drive and passion exploded within me like a corked volcano. The tail, the ears, the armor plating, and the strong, healthy body took time to adjust, but nothing compares to the new organ in my chest¡ªmy mana heart.

    I clasped over the quartz crystal and focused my awareness toward my hand, on the crystal, blocking out the surrounding sounds. A tingling sensation started in my palm.

    I cleared my head of all unwanted thoughts. No pressure.

    ¡°Luchtaigh,¡± I whispered.

    I felt my mana heart squeeze a little in my chest. A huge jolt of energy hit my spine then it traveled up to my shoulders, down my right arm, and to my clenched hand. My eyes opened seeing my whole arm blazing with Celtic tribal tattoos. The pattern changes every time I cast spells.

    Every terran¡¯s tattoos are different based on their heritage and casting magic has the be done in their heritage¡¯s language. I¡¯m Scotts/Irish, event Scott, so I hoped we have some Celtic history in our family trees, but I haven¡¯t gone around to uncover it. Terrans from Africa, Australia, Asia, Europe, and native tribes have their own patterns, and it just excites and puzzles me that terran magic can express that. No one is sure why, but someday someone will figure it out. Hopefully me.

    As wisps of blue smoke emanated from my tattoos, I focused on the crystal and whispered, ¡°Insileadh,¡± The blue light infused into the crystal, and the energy was carried from the copper wire to the black sigil network.

    This part was tricky. Too much mana and the copper wire burns the sigils and catch fire. Too little and the mana doesn¡¯t stick to the sigils. I steadied my breath. Too many times I¡¯ve practiced, to know and feel how much mana to use in a spell, I had to be precise.

    The box felt lighter in my left hand. I held my breath. Holy shit.

    It started resisting my left hand¡¯s grip, and I let go.

    The box floated upright, even pulling the crystal from my right hand. ¡°Okay. Steady, steady.¡±

    ¡°Watch yourself, Katie,¡± Scott said. I glanced over and he was as nervous as me.

    ¡°I got this.¡±

    I cut off the mana supply, letting my tattoos die off. I felt the crystal pulling from my grip. A little at a time, when only my index and thumb held it, I held my breath, and let go.

    The box flew before my face, the sigils lit with the familiar blue glow. It didn¡¯t descend or ascend at all, just stayed in place. I exhaled, then smiled with laugher. ¡°Holy shit. It¡¯s working!¡±

    ¡°Holy shit,¡± Scott said too.

    A rise of excitement hit me that I could¡¯ve cried. ¡°Ta-da! The one-and-only Walsh Mana Lantern.¡± I went on laughing and smiling.

    ¡°Wow. So it just floats? What else does it do?¡±

    I steadied myself from the head rush to speak. ¡°It just floats, but¡­¡± I walked to the balcony doors, turned to the lantern, and with my finger, asked it to come. I wasn¡¯t sure if that worked, but I squeed loud as the lantern floated to me. I went to Scott and it followed me. Then I commanded it to stop and float a foot away from me. ¡°Oh god. This is so cool!¡±

    ¡°Now that is impressive,¡± Arana said. ¡°Nicely done, Katie.¡±

    ¡°So you made a decoration?¡± Scott asked.

    ¡°It¡¯s less threatening I believe. Magic can be beautiful, so I thought that if I could make enchanted decorations, that could attract people back to the winery, including late-night parties. We can save a boatload of money off the electric bills.¡±

    ¡°But uses your mana. I mean, not everybody can use them as lighting. I think we¡¯re getting ahead of ourselves.¡±

    Being right was true; I was tipping my toes into enchanted items. The lantern was my first and I had to back off.

    ¡°But I¡¯m still showing Mom and Dad.¡±

    ¡°Tell them when they are ready,¡± Arana said. ¡°They¡¯re still worked up from today.¡± Keeji nodded.

    ¡°Eventually. But, man, look at this! It¡¯s not blowing up in my face anymore!¡± I got onto the bed to sit by Scott. ¡°Okay, I had a thought. We need to check your mana heart.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t you think you should like¡­ turn the lantern off or something?¡± Scott asked.

    ¡°If the math is right, I gave it enough mana to last for a few minutes. But I don¡¯t want to lose this high. Let¡¯s check that heart of yours.¡± I then poked him in the chest.

    ¡°Well, I¡­¡± Scott started, but I pushed him to make him lay back on my bed. ¡°H-Hey now.¡±

    ¡°Patience, Scott. This test will need some focus,¡± I said and closed my eyes.

    ¡°At least warn m-¡±

    I shushed him and continued.

    I found this spell in the spellbook but had to refine it just for the mana heart. Scott was still injured when we got home so it wasn¡¯t ideal to cast it, or practice casting it. I had to wait a month until he wasn¡¯t breathing hard or not wincing from weight on his sternum. I lifted his shirt to expose his bare chest. The scar was still visible.

    Both my arms lit up with blue tattoos with a simple thought. I spread my hands and pressed on his warm upper chest. I then connected the charged mana with my mental sight. Mana wisps and liquid danced over my hands and Scott¡¯s chest.

    There were many Celtic words I had to sound out to make it work, all recited from memory. Once done, I linked with Scott¡¯s nervous system.

    ¡°I¡¯m in.¡±

    I saw his body in my mind. Every organ, every nerve, every blood vessel. Scott¡¯s other scars on his arms and neck. I focused on his chest, the mana heart itself. It¡¯s hard to describe feeling an organ with your mind but think of an invisible hand cradling it, examining it. I traced its surface, feeling the leathery flesh and veins over it. I felt the scar with my mind. It felt solid.

    ¡°Well, doctor,¡± Scott said. ¡°Am I clear to be trained by my girlfriend?¡±

    I paused, then smiled, just to see him smile as I opened my eyes. ¡°Clean bill of health, Mr. Dunne.¡± I said then leaned down and kissed him. ¡°Keeji can turn on the mana heart, as long as he turns it off at the slight instance of pain.¡±

    Keeji barked. ¡°We can do magic again!¡± He rolled too much and fell off the bed with a grunt.

    Scott and I shrugged it off and laughed.

    But I did it. I made an enchanted item. I wonder what else I can make?

    <hr>

    Hampton Inn

    Alexandria, Louisiana

    6:42 PM

    My cellphone rang from the hotel room¡¯s nightstand. I shot up from daydreaming every conceivable way my trip back home could be ruined, from Rene¨¦ calling the cops on me still, to some random person recognizing my face. Four out of five the cops barge in while I took a piss. I answered the phone.

    ¡°Hey, Todd, took you long enough,¡± I said, rubbing my eyes. ¡°What¡¯s Tabitha doing? Is Rene¨¦ still crazy?¡±

    ¡°Who?¡±

    The voice was different but familiar. I reoriented myself and checked my phone, noticing the Caller ID and picture. A mute curse left me before I talked. ¡°Oh. Sorry, Mom. I thought you were someone else.¡±

    ¡°Wanna talk about it?¡± She asked. I picked up heavy exhaustion in her voice. There are only a few things that could exhaust Mom: a wine sale, an event on the patio but we haven¡¯t had one in a while, or the asshole by the lake. Guess which one was obvious these days.

    ¡°No, it¡¯s fine, really,¡± I said. ¡°I heard the news. I haven¡¯t had time to call. Is everything calmed down?¡±

    ¡°Still a bit worked up.¡± She sighed heavily. ¡°I really don¡¯t want to talk about it.¡±

    ¡°Same here.¡± I rubbed a kink in my neck. Hotel pillows are terrible for me. ¡°Hope that is not what you¡¯re calling me about.¡±

    ¡°No. Just want to ask when you¡¯re coming home.¡±

    She knows to not bring Jaruka up around me, or on the phone. I have issues with him like everybody else, but he sure does have issues with me. The first time I met him, I thought he was some Wave mutant, not an alien. I clobbered his head with my lucky shovel and that was before finding out the Titan Spires. I swear, he raises his fist at me whenever I¡¯m near him either by accident or purpose. Pisses me off every time. He hasn¡¯t attacked Scott, Katie, or the rest of the family, but I¡¯m always suspecting I¡¯ll be the first to get brain damage from his fists.

    ¡°Soon,¡± I said, sighing after.

    ¡°How soon?¡±

    ¡°Tomorrow morning. I¡­¡±

    I stopped myself. Katie has more interest in magic and the supernatural that she now lives in it, but my parents can be defensive and protective of sudden changes they don¡¯t or won¡¯t understand. The media feeding them fear and misinformation about it is a hard battle for her and Scott. Even me.

    Then me, hunting ghosts as a hobby, calling myself a spectrologist with a crazy theory. Or found it. Those memory cards in my messenger bag had much evidence and sifting through them will be a while. It would be inconceivable if Mom or Dad found out.

    ¡°Robert?¡± She asked me.

    I blinked. ¡°Yeah, sorry. Just a bit tired. I¡¯m flying out tonight.¡±

    ¡°Discovered anything?¡±

    Sighing, I said, ¡°No, I haven¡¯t found anything useful.¡±

    ¡°Look, I know this hobby is important to you, but you didn¡¯t have to storm out like that.¡±

    No matter how much she wanted me to stay, I needed to breathe. Jaruka was the obvious reason and being cooped up in the winery was beginning to get mind-numbing. Getting far away from him felt better, for a little while.

    ¡°Mom,¡± I said with seriousness. ¡°Ask me why?¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ve been over this. Jaruka was driving me bonkers and I needed out.¡±

    ¡°You bonkers? What about us?¡± Her voice rose with snapped syllables. ¡°It¡¯s been crazy here if you haven¡¯t heard.¡±

    I nodded without talking.

    ¡°He consumed and puked a full case. A thief nearly robbed us. Katie did her best until Jaruka put the thief in the hospital.¡±

    ¡°Punched his lights out?¡± I asked.

    ¡°A half-empty wine bottle to the face, Katie said.¡±

    ¡°Jesus.¡±

    I glanced at my phone with a glimmer of a chance Todd was calling. Come on, call back already.

    ¡°Now I really need to hide my face,¡± I said to Mom. ¡°Can that asshole ever behave?¡±

    Mom scoffed. ¡°As if.¡±

    ¡°Anything else I should know?¡± The talk was helping me forget that monstrosity at the plantation.

    ¡°We just had dinner,¡± she said. ¡°But¡­ Katie also shared her creation, despite Scott¡¯s wishes.¡±

    ¡°Oh dear God, she didn¡¯t.¡± Fearing the worst what she meant was a real wake-up call. Too many times Katie created something and have it blow up in her room or outside, almost a bomb incident. Surviving it, yes, but still dangerous. She never told me what she was making, but there were times I checked without knowing. Crystals, glue, and paper all over her bedroom desk.

    ¡°She didn¡¯t blow things up,¡± Mom said, and that was surprising to me.

    ¡°What?¡± I raised myself in the bed.

    ¡°She showed it off after dinner in the backyard, to be safe, and it turned out to be those Chinese paper lanterns you know at festivals and such. It looked weird.¡±

    ¡°Enchanted it. I think you meant enchant it.¡±

    ¡°Whatever.¡± Even she has trouble saying those words. ¡°The thing floated on its own and followed her wherever she went. She was smiling so wide and I was unsure how to react. It all just¡­ you know.¡±

    ¡°I know.¡±

    Katie worked her butt off to make the item work without blowing up the house. How about that? I went for my bag and pulled out a small black notebook of mine, scribbling on a blank page near the end.

    Magic Paper Lantern-Ask Katie.

    ¡°So does his mean you¡¯re accepting magic?¡± I asked while putting my notebook away.

    ¡°No just¡­ not yet.¡±

    ¡°Well, it¡¯s a start.¡± I checked the time on the nightstand¡¯s alarm clock. I was far from boarding my flight, but I have to be there early. ¡°Look, my flight is coming up soon and I gotta run.¡±

    ¡°Oh, okay.¡± She sound sullen at that, then went on. ¡°Oh, before I forget, I overheard Katie, Scott, and Jaruka talking to Brill about¡­¡±

    ¡°Nah, not right now,¡± I said. ¡°I don¡¯t want him in my head right now. I¡¯ll figure out tomorrow.¡±

    ¡°Right. Sorry. Take care, Robert. Call us if any trouble happens.¡±

    ¡°I will.¡± I then hanged up. A stillness was felt through my hotel room, packed suitcases ready for me.

    With the time, it was pointless to wait for Todd¡¯s call any longer. I had to get to the airport.

    I slung my messenger bag over my shoulder. My duffle bag was strapped to the pullout bar of my Pelican equipment case. I took a few calming breaths before I opened the door to the hallway. I still felt a little paranoid if anybody listened to my call with Mom. To my luck, the hallway was deserted.

    Once in the elevator and pressing the lobby button, I got startled by the phone ringing in my pocket that I dropped my roller case. The caller ID was Todd¡¯s. Perfect timing. ¡°God, finally. It¡¯s about time, Todd. I waited all day for you and I¡¯ve been unable to reach you too. Please tell me Tabitha is alright.¡±

    A short cough from the caller was familiar, but it wasn¡¯t Todd¡¯s raspy cough.

    ¡°A simple high would suffice, Mr. Walsh,¡± she said.

    ¡°Sassel?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    I picked up my roller suitcase as I shuffled my messenger bag to the other arm. ¡°Hang on, where¡¯s Todd?

    ¡°Obviously you¡¯ve been panicking since then, Mr. Walsh. Todd is fine, for now. He¡¯s distracting Rene¨¦ at the moment,¡± she said. ¡°Just so you know, Tabitha is okay now.¡±

    The news would have been great if Todd said it, but Tabitha¡¯s totem is okay. ¡°Oh, thank God. Thanks, Sassel.¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s still groggy after waking up but her health is the same before things went bad.¡±

    ¡°Yes, that, I¡¯m so sorry I put you and her in danger,¡± I said.

    ¡°Stop repeating it, you did enough apologies already.¡±

    ¡°But what about Rene¨¦? I¡¯ve been worried sick if she called the cops on me. I spent all night looking out for myself.¡± The elevator was almost to the lobby and I had to lower my voice.

    ¡°She was about to,¡± Sassel said, and my heart sank. ¡°But Tabitha woke up a few minutes after you left. She begged her sister to not go forward. Tabitha also feels responsible for causing it. So if you want to know how to remove the blame, thank Tabitha for keeping you out.¡±

    The elevators doors opened.

    ¡°Oh well, uh, thank you,¡± I managed to say. I dropped my key and grabbed the bill at the front desk as a spoke. ¡°So there¡¯s nothing to worry about? Is it as what I predicted?¡± I nodded at the receptionist, mouthing thank you to her.

    ¡°Oh please, you¡¯re still after that?¡±

    I stuffed the bill in my bag. Even with all of it going on, I had to settle my nerves over this theory. ¡°It¡¯s really important. How did she pass out? If there¡¯s any pattern to figure out, Tabitha might have it. This can help other terrans, my little sister, even.¡±

    The driver glanced at me from the rearview mirror. I turned away to not make eye contact.

    She could hang up any moment. Just thinking about a cat pressing the smartphone¡¯s buttons is comical. But I know one thing: totems are part of their hosts. Katie is a study horse, the same as Arana. Scott and Keeji are different, but I¡¯ve seen others act the same. Tabitha is a helper, a voodoo priestess that helps the community, and Sassel can react the same.

    ¡°Fine,¡± she sighed.

    I smiled. I then asked the hotel shuttle driver to take me to the airport as I set my bags in the back.

    ¡°After we split,¡± Sassel started, ¡°we searched the living room, kitchen, dining room, and found nothing. That coward Frank kept his distance from Tabitha.¡±

    I nodded. I got into the shuttle and it drove off to the airport. ¡°Thought so. You know the rest from me, but what from you and Tabitha?¡± I kept myself aloof from the driver in case he caught wind of our talk. I could know if he was anti-terran or not.

    ¡°We saw no floating candlesticks like you, but we saw shadows. Moving shadows. It was¡­ unnerving to say the least.¡±

    I recalled no shadows from me or Alex¡¯s search. A new piece to the puzzle. Nothing that I remembered from other stories mentioned shadows. Sassel explained there were multiple shadows. Some were blobs. Some were full-figured humans. What scared Sassel was they congregated more around Tabitha, growing in numbers and size as they walked from room to room. Sassel told them it was time to move out just as I and Alex saw the candlestick crash in the master bedroom.

    In the living room, Tabitha was spooked by a shadow.

    Sassel explained Tabitha charged up for self-defense, but lost control of her active arm. She could feel Tabitha¡¯s fear and pain. Her charged mana, just like all the other stories I¡¯ve read, ejected from her African tattoos. Every ounce of mana Sassel said plummeted through the floorboard cracks. The amount of that trauma was enough to make Tabitha pass out and collapse to the floor until Sassel called for me.

    ¡°Jesus,¡± I said. ¡°Did she say any word or a finger flick?¡±

    ¡°No, not a word, not even chaje. Just reflex. She said that¡­ like her life was being drained from her, her chest felt compressed. It scared her. I felt her fear, Robert. Nothing like her transformation.¡±

    Just like the other stories, I thought. ¡°You sure Tabitha is okay?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m her totem, Robert. I know everything about her. Anything else you want from me or Tabitha, because I think I said enough.¡±

    I glanced up to see the airport terminal approach. I told the driver thanks before he stopped at the checkpoint. Security checked me and the driver for glowing tattoos before the driver drove through.

    ¡°I think I got everything. Tell Tabitha thank you and call me if anything else happens.¡±

    ¡°With Rene¨¦ keeping an eye on her, I don¡¯t think so. Goodbye, Robert.¡± Sassel then hung up.

    The abrupt end didn¡¯t cause any stir of anger within me. Nothing else to say that I¡¯m done with Tabitha. End of story. But I still felt in some way wanting to speak with Tabitha in person. Going against Rene¨¦ and Sassel is no option. I couldn¡¯t leave Tabitha all the blame, but for real, if they don¡¯t want me involved anymore, then so be it.

    At least the cops aren¡¯t involved. That¡¯s for sure.

    I got off the shuttle with my things and entered the small international airport. I already checked in. My digital ticket was on my phone.

    Since The Wave, every airport in the world increased security to high if not ridiculous levels. Alexandria International Airport installed a higher fence a few hundred yards around, twice at the runway ends, along with around-the-clock National Guard security keeping every terran out. It was unanimous that terrans were banned from flying to the point of gunpoint. And I mean literally. Any terran can attack a plane and commit genocide, people said.

    At security, it got more personal. Scanning my bags, going through the full-body scanner, then had to deal with the guard¡¯s physical inspection. ¡°Have you experienced any pain on your body,¡± the guard said and I shook my head. She checked me anyway, looking for any sign of glowing tattoos. Some smart guy found out that mana emits radiation so a Geiger meter was on every guard¡¯s hip. When I was cleared and putting back on my shoes, a family was ruthlessly escorted, at gunpoint, out the airport. The teenage boy had a tattoo on his left hand, crying. Downgrading to traveling by car was their only option. Like I said, you get a tattoo before the flight, you get grounded.

    Airport attendance was hit. There were several people waiting to board the plane to Ontario when I arrived. It was so bad that the early ones, even me, were offered first-class upgrades. I passed the chance.

    The crew was on edge. Everyone kept an eye on the passengers and themselves for any signs of terran tattoo pain. If I got one during the flight, or the other passengers, or the stewardess, or hell the pilot, game over. We turn around, land in the next available airport, or keep going, depending on how long the person has before transforming and ripping the plane apart. Thankfully in the five-hour flight, nobody got one.

    I arrived in Ontario before sunrise just as a terran attack was stopped at baggage claim. My luggage was retrieved without issue. Two terran bodies were covered in white sheets, one was still smoldering in ash. I had to walk a bit faster to my Jeep Cherokee in the parking lot before more emergency personnel cleaned up the mess. I texted my Mom I¡¯ll be arriving home soon, then drove down the 5 freeway then the 15.

    Mom texted back the 15/91 intersection was ¡°fixed.¡± The overpass was still under construction and not obstructing my route as it did a week ago. Freeways were still being fixed, or not maintained at all from The Wave¡¯s damage. Purple crystals were still in the ground. No terrans were in sight, either nowhere or in disguise as they drove.

    I got home safe a few hours later, thankful that no paparazzi were around. The winery looked the same as I parked. Dad was still asleep when Mom saw me come in, grateful and hugging me, then told her to leave me alone to sleep for the rest of the day. I carried my luggage to my room without disturbing the rest of the family.

    I passed out once the pillow touched my head.

 Chapter 4

    Alien campsite, near Lake Skinner

    April 16, 2013

    3:06 AM

    *Incoming Slipspace Message - Level 5 Encryption*

    Origin

    - SS Tower #12-87

    - GSA Serial # 36135247854370350748

    - Sender: Brill Secambre

    Destination

    - SS Tower #94-27B

    - GSA Serial # 84454211298582402603

    - Receiver: Jaruka Teal

    Jaruka, it''s Brill. Still on mission but¡­ good news. Customs cleared the ship and it''s arriving sometime today, I think. Or tomorrow. Maps and clocks are haywire today. I''ve attached the landing coordinates. No doubt Denverbay sent the same to the government; they will inspect the ship and its passenger. Just¡­ please, for the gods, don''t insult the pilot. Promise me.

    *End Message*

    *****

    I read that in a half-asleep daze and immediately felt wide awake.

    I packed my things into the howler cycle and rushed down the dark roads and highway without caring about other drivers like a pagine on sugar extract. There was no traffic on the highway. Free-roaming was encouraged.

    The coordinates were at March Air Reserve Base, housing part of the air force and military personnel. I visited it a few times before, mostly to check in with the federal agents. Waste of time really. These days, its use was dubbed down due to its numbers shrinking from terran discharges, bearing fewer aircraft and pilots than before. The base''s gates were closed, but that didn''t stop my ride''s hydraulic suspension to jump the twenty-foot fence. Sure woke up the guard in the booth. I skidded as I landed and sped toward the airstrip.

    Alarms blared within seconds. Building lights lit up. My howler cycle''s fusion engine wasn''t enough to drown out to alarm.

    The landing was set at the largest aircraft hangar on the eastern end of the base.

    The coordinates were at one of the largest aircraft hangars on the northeastern end of the base. I dodged under several parked aircraft then skid to a halt in front of the hangar. My compass dinged I was at the right spot. Couldn''t guarantee the ship would fit inside.

    Lights came on across the base and the alarm did not settle. As I took off my helmet, several military vehicles from all sides were converging on me.

    "Croging idiots."

    I got off and unclasped my plasma revolver from my hip holster, clicking the charger on. I had no need for my plasma rifle as it was attached to the howler cycle or the sheathed katana over my back. Just the gun. If there was a fight, I''ll be damned it will be over stupidity, and not by me.

    The humvees were several yards from me before all their brakes slammed down to a stop on the concrete. Their high beams made me squint. I counted eight humvees, sixteen lights. I heard gears shift and they backed away for a few yards before stopping.

    I smiled and yelled. "That''s right, you better watch yourselves!"

    I heard one person get out of one to my right, then the rest of the soldiers filed out with loaded rifles. The first one kept walking toward me. Even with the lights, I could recognize the uniform, buttoned and almost tucked, badges on his left chest, and the rank symbols on both arms. His hair was matted on the left side of his head.

    "Stand down, men!" He commanded. "Are you trying to intimidate us, Jaruka!?" He yelled over the alarms and engines.

    "Like I want to," I answered. "W-What was your name again?"

    "General Higgs, but¡­"

    "Check with your superiors before you or your lapdogs get trigger happy. My ship will be landing right here soon, right at my foot. So if you have any inkling idea to move me from this spot, I dare you, human. No, I double dare you!"

    Turning away from the general, I holstered my pistol and pressed a button on the howler cycle''s left-side carrier, then sidestepped back. A few rifles rattled around me. Locks clicked and flaps opened from the carrier, then the box unfolded into a sturdy lounge chair, stopping a foot from the general''s legs as he blinked from the act. An umbrella lifted itself from another compartment and opened wide to cover the entire lounge chair with a UV solar charging canvas. I''ve used it when on scout missions, or some erroneous ventures you don''t want to know about. Trust me.

    "A beach chair? You''ve got to be joking," Higgs said, eyes blinking. "This is an active airfield. You can''t just park yourself here and expect us to comply."

    "Don''t care. Now be a good dog and butt out!" I flopped onto the chair. My flask from my pants pocket was already in my hand. "Unless you''re gambling to defy my government and the twenty-some Spires over us with your wife and son, go right ahead. I''m staying."

    Higgs got frustrated and threw his arms up, and I wondered if he was thinking about beating me up. Everybody gets those thoughts. But he couldn''t do squat. Higgs turned back to his Humvee saying, "Get me a phone!"

    Soon the airbase''s alarms shut off. The ring of soldiers and vehicles didn''t leave still, but they did reduce the number of lights on me. I watched Higgs as he talked on the phone, confirming from his superiors and messages from the CIA the coordinates were legit. He regarded me, then was driven away.

    Sometimes it''s nice to have high protection. I smiled and opened the flask. One quick sip of the acrid-smelling Mavarian gin was several other sips left of my reserve.

    The next thing I remembered was being jabbed awake in the shoulder.

    I jerked and fell off the lounge chair, coughing up mucus. My forehead and right shoulder hit the ground. I shuffled myself to my knees and opened my eyes to the morning light. "Croging hell. ''Da crog poked me!?"

    I felt for my plasma pistol but it was missing from the holster. I blinked and rubbed my eyes to get used to the light, then looked around me. On the other side of the lounge chair, Scott and Katie watched me with annoyance but didn''t seem to react to my outburst. Scott held my plasma pistol. Katie had her arms folded.

    "Slept well?" Katie asked.

    Rolling my eyes I said, "Go home you two. This is off-worlder business."

    Scott looked around nonchalantly. The number of Humvees went from eight to five. Some of the remaining soldiers laugh at my expense. Three of them had a table set up with food and equipment. A sixth vehicle, the winery''s company van, was parked behind a Humvee.

    "Some business meeting," Scott joked.

    I stood up on my digitigrade legs, my knees cracking. "I''m not maiming anybody. This¡­" A thought came to me. "Wait. Did the ship come? Did the comm case receive the message?"

    The hangar was wide open but it was void of any craft. Airport personnel was inside setting up tables on one end. Everywhere else were more non-military humans, probably government. I could pick out the familiar black suits planted in strategic locations around the hangar and the Humvees.

    "Haven''t heard a thing," Scott said.

    "What time is it?"

    "Almost noon."

    I shook my head. I checked my flask, still in my vest pocket. I shoot it and was bone dry. "Damn."

    "Look, it''s great the ship is coming, or maybe not, but not cool to just partially shut down a military airbase just to wait for it to arrive.

    "They might shoot it down or confiscate it from me," I defended. "I''m here to make sure."

    "They''re not gonna take it away."

    "You never know."

    Scott groaned and shook his head. He still held my plasma pistol at the barrel.

    I spotted Higgs at the hangar, talking to two familiar humans. One I didn''t mind having around and is a friend of Scott''s, chatting away with Higgs like an old friend, the other I wished he was stationed in a desert with a target on his back. That guy was staring dead at me.

    I gave him a slight nod. He didn''t react.

    "Who invited them?" I asked.

    "They got the message too, I think. They have to be here," Katie said. "Can''t believe you slept through all this."

    "I don''t like it. And where''s dum dum and wise beak?"

    Katie sighed. "Keeji and Arana. God, remember their names. They''re back home with the family."

    "And why are you two here?"

    "Because we''re the ones Denverbay trust, so it''s a good reason if whoever is coming, we have an understanding who are we dealing with here," Scott said, then raised my pistol. "Oh and no weapons. Victor''s orders."

    I beamed back to my howler cycle. My rifle was missing. I then realized my katana was missing from my back. I then glanced at Scott, my eyes twitching.

    "Relax. They''re in the van tucked away safe. God, just relax." Scott walked off, with Katie following.

    Terrific.

    The two people I spotted came not long after.

    Deryl Porter, the talker to the general, was a U.S. Marshal, a government-level agent of law enforcement, and Scott''s godfather. Deryl was a family man, with little signs of wear for two lives. He can still hold himself at a gunfight from what I heard, a former U.S. Marine. He had long dark brown hair but styled that even the wind couldn''t mess it up. The years haven''t taken a toll on his stature, still has some muscle under his blue suit and white shirt. He knew my boundaries very well and respected them. Not as a stickler as Scott, but I liked him. For a human.

    Victor Mathews, the dead-eye one, was a CIA agent from Foreign Affairs. He had this craw against me ever since I landed in Temecula, wanting every chance to contain me from the general public. He lost that chance day three into my residence by slapping handcuffs on me and almost letting an active Titan Spire compost CIS headquarters. Unlink Deryl''s lighter clothes, Victor still wore the typical government agent black suit. His light brown hair was shorter and wavy. He shaved his chin beard since I saw him last. He flashed his sidearm under his jacket, and I gave a little nod. Jackass.

    "First injuring a fugitive, now disrupting airbase operations within two days?" Victor said. "Trying to set a record or something?"

    "Humans have that sort of thing? I didn''t know," I joked.

    "You''re violating over a dozen federal laws just being on the concrete."

    I laughed and said, "I don''t see any real commotion here. You on the other hand need to buy a better ego clincher."

    "Listen here you¡­"

    Deryl quickly got between us before Mathews came close to me. "Now hang on, Mathews," he said. "The last thing we need is a fistfight and composted bodies. This is just temporary until the ship moves to the camp. Right, Jaruka?"

    I took a breath but nodded. "Yeah. Temporary."

    Mathews glared at me. I knew I was right; the human government tried everything to change rules so they had control over me. They forget who''s within the Republic''s cosmic borders. Mathews walked off toward the hangar.

    Deryl sighed. "Victor took a red-eye flight this morning. He''s a bit edgy today."

    "He''s always edgy around me," I said.

    "Sure wish they sent the exact time the ship will come. This could take all day."

    It was agreeable.

    For several more hours, we waited. I stayed where I was, drinking a gallon of water, eating snacks, and keeping the comm case open. I had it set to activate and pull Slipspace messages for twenty seconds every five minutes, plus a wide-band antenna to communicate securely with the waystation in orbit. I kept a watchful eye on the soldiers, terran couple, and agents as they waited. Every hour, I had to work on untangling my overgrown skindreads. They secrete more oil in the spring, making things sticky. I had a small incinerator to burn the dried flakes I carefully broke off.

    A few soldiers left out of spite from the ones surrounding me, but the rest stayed for gossip, card games, and anything to occupy their minds. I had to watch them as they regarded Scott and Katie''s presence, the only terrans I''ve seen on the base since arriving. The couple was reading Katie''s spellbook in the van, still teaching Scott the basics, but not actively practicing. It could set off the wrong messages to the armed soldiers. Scott''s mana heart was pumping mana again, so I''ve heard. There were three or four watching them every so often, their hands close to their guns. Being bad at my reporting job for the Archives and Denverbay is a given, but even I paid attention to how terrans were viewed and treated, especially the armed forces. Every military branch across the planet had been discharging pre-terrans, with or without a safety net. The fear of living, uncontrollable weapons, as what hard-hitting politicians said that they are a threat to national security and must be removed from all armed forces was strong, even though it also dwindles their manpower. At the same time, marketing for humans only to join. Think about it. If a new human recruit signs up, shows up as a pre-terran, and is then treated like a terrorist. For those remaining, still holding on to power, they stay hopeful a cure will stop it all, consistently living in limbo.

    The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    What a selfish cycle, huh?

    Then the comm case''s radio beeped. I beamed at it, holding my breath. One message from the waygate station manager. It spoke in my language with UT filters, without emotion.

    "Waygate traveler incoming, Halcunac. Mercenary R-class ship in Slipspace from Quisal. Clearance code matches. Arrival time is within thirty-two minutes."

    By the Goddess, it''s happening.

    "Galvanto! It''s coming. It''s finally coming!" I screamed and jumped. The humans got startled. Soon, the rest of the humans at the hangar got busy. Scott and Katie joined me.

    At certain Slipspace entry points around Terra Firma''s orbit, it takes ten minutes to travel between here and Creos. Thirty-two minutes meant the ship was coming from Nova Company headquarters, as I expected it would. The ship was held there for my mods to complete.

    Higgs had the base ready by then. The hangar was wide open. The agents at the tables were on standby. My lounge chair was packed up and I moved the howler cycle closer to the hangar as with the rest of the military vehicles. Airport personnel, with strict instructions, were stationed to welcome the ship. My ship. All air traffic from Ontario to Santa Ana was diverted or grounded.

    A few minutes after hearing it leave the gate, I kept my eyes peeled to the sky as the sunset to the west. I had to borrow a soldier''s binoculars to see.

    "Over there!" a human spoke, pointing west. I turned and there it was. A single white streak in the orange dusk sky.

    The black dot kept falling until it slowed and flew toward us.

    "How big is this ship again?" Scott asked as he looked.

    "Ninety feet long, give or take," I said, still looking through the binoculars. "Alright, here comes the prize!"

    The ship flew through a cloud, its wake breaking it in two. It slowed down with its wind flaps and four anti-gravity thrusters, so loud it came as a sonic boom. Its speed was too fast to land but it flew over us, and I had to raise my arms and scream loud with joy.

    The long hull and underside cargo compartment in the rear pained with black radar-reflective paint, the four anti-gravity thrusters on rotating discs, the rear thruster over the large hatch: it was more beautiful than the broker described.

    The wake hit us, jarring the humans into chaos, but I was still jumping and hollering in excitement. "Crog yeah! Come to me, baby!"

    It made a wide upward barrel roll to lower its momentum then hover mid-air over where I once camped, then it descended to about twenty feet above the ground. The cockpit''s windows were blackened, standard when traveling in space.

    The personnel wearing orange and yellow vests waved glowing orange sticks at the ship, directing it toward the hangar. Whoever the pilot was or how it was receiving instructions, he maneuvered the ship inside with the rear hatch facing the tables.

    "Look at that beauty," I said with a wide smile. "Man, the newer models look good. Goddess, it looks badass. Wonder it will outperform your country''s fastest jets. Right Mathews?"

    He said nothing but stared hard at the ship, studying it, as if he had no choice but to bring in the worst mistake of his life. No matter, he can''t control this at all.

    As the massive hangar doors closed, the ship extended four landing struts from the bottom. A soft touchdown on the smooth concrete, but it cracked a little from the ship''s weight. The thrusters shut down in seconds and folded against the ship, something the older models like the Lunar Spear never did.

    "Grace and the kids will flip if they see this," Deryl said, meaning his wife and twin daughters I never met.

    "Remember, Teal," Mathews said. "This short quarantine and review are what we agreed on with Denverbay. But one mistake from them, there will be consequences. Understood?"

    "Yeah, yeah. Keep threatening me with nonsense. Just keep your mouth shut. I''ll do the talking."

    We walked to the rear. I had to retrain myself from touching the hull if it was too hot from re-entry, or too cold from space. We faced it, with me in front, still smiling. Some humans were a bit nervous like they had never seen a spaceship in person before.

    The rear hatch, as wide as the ship, unlatched and descended to the hangar floor in a loud, smooth hydraulic hiss.

    Inside, amongst the pristine workshop and metal crates, a familiar Faldeg sorcerer stood in the middle. Nothing else mattered at that point.

    "Professor!" I exclaimed with open arms.

    Domoja Balcusten bellowed a laugh and tapped his cane twice. "Pupil," he said through his universal translator. "Oh, how the years haven''t been kind to you!"

    "Same for those sideburns!"

    Domoja laughed with a wide smile. He outstretched his ten-food wingspan, making several armed humans flinch before he flew up and land a foot in front of me.

    It has been years since I''ve seen him, not since the Goomash Raid ended. Always great to see a familiar face and a deep friend of mine.

    "Pupil, I got them groomed for this trip," he said. "How you''ve been?"

    "Horrible. Nova brew and ration packs aren''t enough surviving here, this specie''s entertainment is cheesy, and these idiots are itching to cage me up."

    "Really?" Domoja glanced past me. "Looks like normal security wherever I go. And where''s that young spunk traveler self. You need to open up more."

    "How''s the family?"

    He folded his wings under his arms and sides. A three-clawed hand-wrapped over the metal head of his enchanted cane. "Not bad, kid. My oldest is in his molting stage and had three more daughters a year ago."

    "Congratulations! Send my wishes to your wife." The Faldeg are short people, just about four feet tall, but their species can reproduce in large numbers. I counted in my head that he had about twelve in his litter, the older ones had to be adults by now.

    "You mean your personal cook?" Domoja added.

    We both laughed, and it was true. Veyla was a great cook.

    I heard Mathews cough for attention. I glared back at him for ruining my moment.

    "We can still hear you, Jaruka," he said. "He still needs to talk like us." The terrans and humans couldn''t stop looking at Domoja like some monster from their movies.

    "Oh, bit me, Mathews. Let me¡­ yow!" A blunt punch to my upper left thigh hit me. I turned back and Domoja lowered his staff with a centered look.

    "Now that''s not how guests act. Show that humble spirit of yours, pupil." Domoja adjusted his UT. "Can you hear me now, human?" Mathews nodded. "Ah good. Sometimes I forget to set this collar right."

    "It was working on the ship," said an annoyed voice, but this was familiar as well, and it made a couple skindreads of mine curl.

    No.

    I looked back at the ship, and there she was, with eyes as gold as mine, walking down the ramp.

    "S-Shaotzi!?" I yelled.

    Shaotzi looked the same the last time I saw her, years really. Still the same blue and orange headband binding back her smooth-shaven skindreads, and the same feathers and jewels pinned and wrapped to her honor dread, and that same clothes and shall she wore when traveling. I felt my stomach drop. All pretense that it was just Domoja coming shattered. Did Brill know she was coming?

    She stopped a few feet from us, her eyes looking over me. Not an ounce of reverence. "Are you going to show love for me as to him?" She asked.

    I glanced back at Domoja. He darted between us and caught my desperate plea for an explanation. "I''ll leave you two to catch up."

    "Professor, back me up here! Why is she here!?"

    "Ask her, Jaruka. She is family you know." He then walked off. "So which one is the Dunne and Walsh fellows I heard about?"

    Being by my sister felt like knives to my back. Any reason was thought of. Denverbay''s ploy for annoying him when my ship will be ready? My father since I haven''t spoken to him in a while? Or something I wasn''t thinking about?

    Turning back, Shaotzi was snipping the air. "You need a bath, little brother," She asked.

    "I would if I was told you were coming."

    "Brill didn''t mention it? I wonder why."

    "You told him to keep his mouth shut. Didn''t you?"

    "I have no idea what you''re talking about."

    "So it was your idea to come?" I asked.

    "Obviously. Seemed important. This option came up and I had to take the chance. Leaving Viro is getting harder each year without a government summons."

    "You didn''t have to." I paused. "How''s the old man?"

    She regarded my words as bad taste. "He''s well. The new treatment is working."

    "Good." At least he wasn''t suffering. "But really. Go home. He needs you more than I."

    "Alright thought ahead, I have trustworthy people taking care of him," she said. "You are what''s important now. Just be grateful the three of us are here for you. You look like you need it." Shaotzi then started walking to Domoja talking with the terrans.

    "I''m fine with Domoja. Call the station manager to teleport you off here."

    She didn''t answer as she walked off.

    I groaned. "Oh yeah, how you doing, brother? Eating your veggies? Sorry Viro is still the same shit-hole as ever," I said to myself, then I thought of something. "Wait. What do you mean three!?"

    "Great merciful Mother, did you sleep in an oil drum or something?"

    My body locked up like stone. The voice¡­ Oh, Goddess. Not her!

    <hr>

    A bat. He was an alien bat. A four-foot-tall alien bat. Wow.

    Even I wasn''t ready for that, and I''ve seen a gamut of aliens on Brill''s ship.

    "You must be the couple Denverbay mentioned," he said. He started checking me and Katie out like a visitor at a zoo. "My, my, he wasn''t lying about the looks. I got my work cut out for me."

    He walked on two legs with exposed four-toed feet, each claw filed short. The wings were tucked tight against his arms and back, just as the wings of the fruit bats. Man, they were big earlier. They could easily wrap someone up. He wore clothes of a man with intellect, importance, and well versed in magic, a white shirt under a suit jacket adorned with symbols and pins I wouldn''t have time to determine. Black and brown fur covered his body I figured but lighter colored fur on his arms, feet, and face. Geez, the face. Similar to a vampire bat''s, with the hooked snout and fangs poking out as he smiled. His ears were big as a bat''s, having several earrings that jangled each other as he moved. He wore gloves on his¡­ hands, still holding a short black cane.

    "Dr. Domoja Balcusten of the D.E.M.," he introduced himself with a head bow. The universal translator around his neck spoke English and silenced his true voice. Ever watched those dubbed Hong Kong kung-fu movies? It''s that, only in real life, and it tripped me up. "Faldeg sorcerer of arcane and paramagic studies. My, what a privilege to meet you both on such short notice."

    "H-Hello," Katie said. She was nervous, probably from Domoja''s face that spooked her. I said hello too, trying my best to stay collective. Deryl, as anyone seeing the weirdest things since The Wave, tried to swallow what he was seeing.

    Mathews showed no fear or resentment. He stated his name and rank with solid execution. The rest of the soldiers and government agents were on high alert. " We heard from Councilman Denverbay you''re here to investigate this pandemic?" he asked. I shot him a look when he said that.

    "In a way, but just¡­ stable."

    "Beg your pardon?" I asked.

    Domoja kept observing Katie and me. "I''m sorry. Observing new magic is my job. My goodness. Two possibly stable GMTs. No offense to your species or your culture, but do you mind if I look closer? No touching really."

    We exchanged glances. I mean, there were soldiers around, and the agent, and my godfather. "I suppose?" Katie said first before I objected.

    Domoja walked around us while saying, "Yes, yes¡­ Primate coccyx extension to armored tail. Defensive traits in the lower limbs. And the pointed ears to promote magic influence. Some changes. Denverbay said you can cast magic, right?"

    Katie nodded and answered, to which Domoja''s brow rose to make his ears jerk and the earrings clank each other.

    "Fascinating. Too bad Jaruka hasn''t sent more research or this job will be a lot easier."

    "We heard," I said. "Jaruka is useless."

    "Eh. Jaruka''s mood ties with his work. You make him happy and his focus is up tenfold."

    A second alien approached us like a silent cat. I saw her before but was too preoccupied with Domoja to understand who she was.

    She had this overbearing presence, what we all did and say was to her judgment. Her clothing was the opposite of Jaruka''s laid-back, fighter, pirate¡­ whatever. She dressed for class, for comfort. Her legs were draped over with a skirt down to her ankles in muted brown and green cloth. Sandals protected the bottom of her feet besides Jaruka''s heavy-duty combat boots. Her white shirt was tight to her outward chest with a green, brown and red shall over her shoulders. She wore a black hip pack on her right leg. Her green skin, well, looked greener, darker, rather than Jaruka''s lighter color. Wonder if she was healthier than him?

    Opposite of Jaruka, her skindreads were smooth, like when you strip a tree branch of the bark to expose the wood, sanded and glazed to shine when the white hangar lights hit it right. They were long past her shoulders, bound together with a blue and orange headband. Three unbound skindreads, each bound with twine, framed both sides of her stoic face.

    The biggest difference was a longer and thicker skindread behind her down past her rear, smoother and wrapped in red twine. It stopped at a loop, decorated with gems and colored bands. The loop was not filled or I''d call it a dreamcatcher.

    She noticed me staring as if I offended her. She pressed a button on her translater around her neck. The voice from her translator expelled confidence. "Shaotzi Arados, oldest twin sister of Jaruka. A pleasure to meet you all."

    "So you''re the sister Denverbay mentioned," Mathews said.

    To be honest, Katie and me never heard of her. Like never.

    "Wait a minute. Sister?" Katie asked with a similar shocked face as me.

    "Victor Mathews, I presume. And Deryl Porter?" Shaotzi said to my godfather. He nodded. "Councilman Denverbay mentioned you. Seems keeping my little brother from trouble has been a hassle, I''ve heard."

    "It''s been¡­ rather difficult," Deryl said.

    Shaotzi nodded.

    "Hold on, back up a bit," I said. "You''re his sister?"

    Shaotzi looked back with the same stare. "Is that a problem?"

    "Problem? No. He never talked about his family."

    Shaotzi hummed.

    "So if he''s here to examine the transformations," Mathews said, "why are you here if I may ask? Denverbay wasn''t clear on that part."

    Shaotzi cleared her throat. "I''m here for Jaruka''s sake. From what Brill and Denverbay told me what happened, he needs help. If nobody could touch or teach him to be civil on a primitive planet, then I''ll slap him to do so."

    "And who''s that in the ship?" Katie said looking over Domoja.

    "Ah, good, was wondering if she showed her face," Deryl said.

    I checked out the third alien. "Wait, she looks like one of those centaurs from the Endeavor. What was her name again? Wrighthood or something?"

    Domoja shrugged. "That peppy one begged Brill to come I heard. She just couldn''t shut up laughing while flying the ship."

    "Who is she?"

    Domoja regarded my words. "Really? Jaruka never talked about his life?"

    Katie and I shrugged. Even Mathews and Deryl didn''t know.

    "That Vyroken up there was Jaruka''s girlfriend a few years back. If there was any person with no purpose being here, she is one."

    Katie and I yelled in unison. "Girlfriend!?"

    <hr>

    There were many people I wanted to see again. I wanted to see Domoja. Nova Company (excluding Kantra). My sister is the "every other occasion" kind of need. But not her. Amber was on my "never see without a gun at arm''s reach" list.

    I wanted to scream, spit, leash out at her. I wanted to boot her off the planet, call Denverbay, and accuse her of trespassing restricted space, or locked up tight at Nova''s shipyards. Despite wanting to react, I was stunned, unable to move. She was on Terra Firma, smiling, happy to see me.

    Goddess, I wanted to punch that smile to the nearest star.

    Amber, however, hadn''t changed much. She used to have long braided red hair, but her hair was cut short and fluffed at the ends, with a rattail braid on the left of her canine face. The over-engineered goggles "looked" the same, by Vyrokens are voracious tinkerers and engineers. Her orange and red fur was groomed and cut short, and her white-furred chest and underbelly were clean of oil and grease the last I remember. Seeing me, with that crooked smile, wearing a tight tank top to restrain her large assets and the carrier pack over her lower half with pockets carrying Goddess knows what, she cleaned up just for me I suspected.

    But she was on crogging Terra Firma¡­

    "Come on, J," she said. "You know deep down you''re excited to see another familiar face."

    I kept silent, flexing my right fist.

    She started walking down the ramp, each paw landed with precision. She knows I''ll fight her. Cautious. Her red-ringed orange and red tail swished a little.

    "A hello? A friendly wave? Maybe a compliment?" She wasn''t getting any, and she rolled her eyes. "Brill predicted you''d be pissed. Figured you''d shoot me by now."

    I heard the terrans exclaim behind me. Damn.

    "J, be serious for once. Say something," Amber said.

    I took a breath, rose my chin, and said, "Amber."

    "Now we''re talking. Come on, admit you''re happy to see all of us."

    "Fat. Chance. Why the crog are you here?"

    "Is it obvious, J? Everybody in Nova knows what''s up. Did you forget about me?"

    I yelled with hangar carrying the echo. "Five years and you show your face, at me, on this planet? Ask yourself why you have a death wish!"

    "Afraid by you or the locals?" She said while pointing out the humans.

    "Both, idiot."

    "Okay, J, tone down your jets. I''m aware. I can protect myself. I mean, you taught me, right."

    My left foot slammed forward. "Don''t you dare get smart with me, Amber?" I turned back to Domoja. "Did you know?"

    Domoja were not all phased by my anger, and I had every right to be angry. The humans and couple were taking my pain in entertainment. Do they have anything else to fawn over beside me?

    "Not my problem," Shatozi said.

    "Stop being so¡ª"

    A massive force smashed into my back, sailing me over the ramp. Every scrap of air left my lungs, even with the personal shield device.

    Now, this is a hostile planet. They don''t like outsiders. They don''t even like their neighboring countries, cities, or across the street. I always keep my personal shield device on me, keeping me safe from bullets and lasers. It''s attached to my sternum over my skin. It also has this one flaw I can''t fix. If the attack''s force is greater than the shield, say a missile, the shield does nothing.

    It''s hard to explain physics and math, but to the dumb ones, the shield absorbs the force and turns my body into a rubber ball shot out of a cannon.

    I blacked out, then found myself on top of two human soldiers, groaning from the pain in my back. The humans trying to get from under me made it worse.

    Then I heard the couple, the agents, and the soldiers just¡­ laugh.

    Amber stopped and leaned over me with a wide, smug smile. "And now we''re even," she said. "You kept my PSD. That means you still care about me." She patted my face a little, then walked to the terrans and agents. "Man, that felt good! Hello. Amber Diremoon, ship mechanic of Nova Company..."

    Crog me.

 Chapter 5

    March Air Reserve Base, California

    April 16, 2013

    2:49 PM

    I had doubts. They turned out wrong. The three new aliens came out¡­ polite. Normal even, personality-wise. It¡¯s hard to get past that after living with one for four months.

    Domoja was friendly, but man, trying to look past the bat-like body was hard. Shaotzi was a surprise. Jaruka never mentioned his family, not even his own species since we¡¯ve known him. Other times he and other visitors were tight-lipped about it. And Amber? How can I swallow that pill?

    I glanced through the office window shades. Jaruka was screaming and yelling his mouth off at his sister with an ice pack to his left side where Amber hind-kicked him, their translators turned off. Yet Shaotzi stood straight and unphased by his rants. Amber and Domoja were still speaking with customs and immigration agents.

    ¡°So much for peace,¡± I said and closed the blinds.

    "Denverbay wants us to watch them too?" Katie asked. ¡°We can barely handle Jaruka ourselves. I mean, he could¡¯ve talked to us first than you.¡±

    Mathews shook his head. ¡°He has to go through our channel. That¡¯s our agreement,¡± he said.

    ¡°We didn¡¯t expect the centaur to come,¡± I added.

    ¡°And us with his sister.¡±

    Katie scoffed to the side. "Some surprise welcoming," she said and sat on the hangar office''s couch.

    We asked for the office just to talk amongst ourselves with Mathews and my godfather, Deryl. Jaruka¡¯s yelling was getting annoying.

    ¡°And the CIA can¡¯t contain them still?¡± I asked them.

    "Still hands-off, Scott," Deryl said.

    ¡°Every single law is being sidelined,¡± Mathews said, laced with frustration. ¡°Standards. And yet immigration is being treated like fast food joints. We¡¯re practically handing them green cards at this point.¡±

    Victor Mathews has been tracking and stalking Jaruka ever since we came back home. Any chance to arrest him was a disaster, not since he overstepped his position and nearly got Langley scorched by a Titan Spire. Every day, he was itching to handcuff him and throw him in a prison cell, without trial. I could see it with the blood vessel on his forehead when he¡¯s around.

    ¡°What did the President say?¡± Katie asked.

    Mathews exhaled and looked away with a sour frown.

    ¡°Keeping the negotiations stable,¡± Deryl said for him. ¡°Winchester is sopping up to his requests without considering the consequences. She is doing everything she can to earn his favor.¡±

    ¡°As usual,¡± I said. ¡°So really, did you know Shaotzi was coming? And never told us earlier?¡±

    Mathews leaned on the wall by the door. ¡°He gave me strict orders not to mention her. It was just Domoja and Amber coming. From your story, I guess he had the roster split between him and Brill.¡±

    ¡°I think so too,¡± Katie said. ¡°He was agitated in the call yesterday.¡± She then leaned forward in her seat, holding the tip of her tail. ¡°How long will they be here?¡±

    Mathews took out a notebook from his left jacket pocket. ¡°The bat-one, Domoja, he¡¯ll be between here and his magic organization investigating the terran issue. Every private and public sector racing for a cure would pay to hear what he finds. From what I heard, Domoja is an expert in this sort of thing.¡±

    "We''re getting the same idea," I said, thinking back to how he observed Katie and me for the first time.

    ¡°And what about Amber?¡± Deryl asked. ¡°What¡¯s her deal with all this?¡±

    Mathews shook his head and said one thing. "She''s the ship''s mechanic."

    I blinked. ¡°That¡¯s it?¡±

    He nodded. ¡°Wish we had any sort of record on her, but from what I¡¯m told, she is a ship mechanic from Nova Company HQ, and she was really adamant on coming. She is given permanent residency for God¡¯s sake.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ve met one like her on the Endeavour,¡± Katie said. ¡°Way different than her. Wringheart, I remember. Heard they are super smart with technology.¡±

    ¡°How smart?¡± Deryl asked.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±

    Deryl hummed.

    ¡°And what about Shaotzi? What¡¯s her background?¡± I said. ¡°I mean, this is huge. That asshole has family and a stark opposite of him. Certainly, Denverbay mentioned something about her.¡±

    Mathews got uncomfortable and adjusted his footing. ¡°Nothing.¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. Nothing.¡±

    ¡°You can¡¯t be serious,¡± Deryl said.

    ¡°I¡¯m telling you all straight. The councilman told me her name, her affiliation, and nothing else,¡± Mathews explained.

    Deryl raised his finger. ¡°Must be something deep with their kind. I can¡¯t tell from what they¡¯re saying, but Jaruka seems furious she¡¯s here.¡±

    Which I¡¯m asking the both of you to find out for me,¡± Mathews asked me and Katie. ¡°I¡¯ve got my hands full with other matters right now and can¡¯t provide any more resources. We need to know all three of their stories if we can trust them.¡°

    I turned back to the window and pulled a few blinds down. Jaruka was still yelling at Shaotzi.

    ¡°Long enough before he scares them away,¡± I said.

    <hr>

    ¡°For Goddess sake, how long, sis!?¡±

    ¡°I told you. I¡¯m here until I see fit you can handle yourself,¡± she said the fourth time.

    ¡°A day? A few days? A week? When I start burying my feet into the soil? Whatever how long, I smell Denverbay all over you. He hired you for something. Did he!?¡±

    The human soldiers in the hangar walls watched our every move, but that didn¡¯t give them the right to eavesdrop on family matters. Some wondered why I was screaming, and she wasn¡¯t, or when I might hit her. Our translators were turned off for good measure.

    Yelling as I was, the sharp pain pricks on my ribs, and the ice pack wasn''t healing fast enough.

    Shaotzi sighed and answered, ¡°Fine. Maybe a month. Satisfied?¡±

    ¡°Wormshit!¡± I screamed. ¡°Make it the next ten minutes and the next way station transport off the planet.¡±

    ¡°You do realize I¡¯m seconds older than you?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t bring age into this. I have experience with this planet and its people.¡±

    ¡°Well good job sharing that with the Archive.¡±

    Our fight was not making her topple. I wanted to bound her tight, take her to the waystation with Amber in shackles, and leave them there until the next supply drop. She never looked back at me, just kept flipping through her immigration papers and cards.

    Mathews brought two humans in for the immigration processing, while the local soldiers inspected the ship for anything: food, weapons, animals. There was no reason, the ship was inspected and verified before it came. Quarantine would last for an hour in the hangar with all three of them having immunization nanites flowing in their blood.

    Domoja and Amber were still with the humans waiting for the official papers to be given. Shaotzi finished first, always proper and to the point.

    Shaotzi¡¯s picture-less green card took up most of her attention.

    "Explain why they call it a green card," she said. "The lower-ranked humans are scared to answer me. Could it be how they label Halcunacs?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t know, don¡¯t care. Just don¡¯t poke their brains out with questions.¡±

    The human that helped Shaotzi with the documents was bombarded with questions. None of it made sense to her, or Shaotzi¡¯s attitude was confusing her with me. Shaotzi is always like that. Always curious but stern in a polite manner.

    She was asking questions about their religion and gods, but I refrained her from answering. Ever tried explaining the multiple human religions? What a headache.

    I could hear Domoja having a casual conversation with the other human, a few soldiers, and General Higgs. It seemed everybody liked him, but I bet they were faking it.

    Amber was almost done as the first human inspected her cargo packs on the table, still filled with trinkets and tools she always lugs with her. Still the optimist ship mechanic of Nova Company, still chirpy and transparent.

    What drive me crazy was they all accepted the two as they were. I knew what they were capable of. Was it to keep a straight face if they were wired to the Titan Spires like me? I imagined so.

    ¡°Seriously, why are you here?¡± I asked my sister.

    She looked away from her papers, almost reading the small book of the country¡¯s Constitution. She still didn¡¯t look at me. She kept staring off at my new ship. ¡°That kick must¡¯ve jostled some brain cells to repeat yourself.¡±

    ¡°Sis,¡± I pressed.

    ¡°Stop calling me that. It¡¯s not casual. And I¡¯m not repeating myself.¡±

    ¡°Then leave if it¡¯s a waste of time.¡±

    ¡°Not my call.¡±

    ¡°Make the call now,¡± I said. ¡°And what is this? Huh? Out with it. Any other reason to help me is to do something else. Spill it, Denverbay hired you.¡±

    Shaotzi swallowed. It seemed my stance for the truth finally gave in. ¡±Brother, any idea how hard it was to get here?¡±

    ¡°People. The empire,¡± I answered

    ¡°Viro,¡± Shaotzi said.

    ¡°Exactly.¡±

    She shook her head. ¡°Jaruka, the empire is slowly closing trade and travel at frontier borders. They¡¯ve already abandoned four sister worlds. There are rumors that all Halcunacs have to relinquish their Republic citizenship and contract to our system.¡±

    Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°But will they ever leave me alone? Never.¡± I jabbed a thumb at the honor dread stump behind my head. ¡°I never cared. And neither should you or Father.¡±

    Shaotzi exhaled, then looked at me finally. ¡°Brill told us everything. Everything,¡± she said, with more push on the last word. ¡°How could you screw up at a time like this?¡±

    I didn¡¯t answer. I had to point in doing so.

    ¡°I risked leaving Viro to see you. I did everything to get to you. Why didn¡¯t you call us?¡±

    I clenched my jaw. I wished Brill didn¡¯t reach out to my family, including my father. Brill cared for me as much as a father figure in Nova Company.

    ¡°Father didn¡¯t have to be¡­¡±

    ¡°Father is worried sick, little brother,¡± she said. ¡°You. Galivanting over un-vetted jobs is not you. And you know this. You should¡¯ve called us.¡±

    I admit it, I was in trouble. No jobs coming in or found, running on little capas. That went on for a few months on Creos until I met that backstabbing, two-foot stump Benali.

    ¡°I-I was desperate,¡± I said. ¡°I had to stay floating.¡±

    "Right, and still make Father feel sicker than from his own body," Shaotzi beamed.

    I heard Domoja thanking the humans before coming over. Amber¡¯s documents were finished and the human handed her the same docs as Shaotzi¡¯s.

    ¡°You are on Terra Firma. It¡¯s not part of the Republic, and it never will. Humans weaponized nuclear technology like children and river weeds. They have no grounded respect for their homeworld, Shaotzi, just think on that. They shoot first, ask about the meaning of life later, and blame it on everybody else. Oh, and here¡¯s the dessert sprinkle: they hate foreigners, especially in this country.

    Shaotzi looked around the humans in the hangar. ¡°They seemed tamed.¡±

    ¡°There are dozens of Titan Spires in orbit aimed at their asses if they crog up.¡±

    Shaotzi, my big sister, didn¡¯t flinch or shrug after. ¡°Like I said. Tamed. Best to know them on the good side than the bad, right?¡±

    ¡°No, I-¡±

    A sharp poke from my side made me yelp and turn. Domoja lowered his cane with his papers in a folder tucked under his wing. I held a finger up to hold it before we switched our translators on.

    ¡°You two,¡± he started. ¡°Me and Amber making humans comfortable around us why you two bellowed was difficult. Even you, pupil. Have some respect for your older sibling.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t take sides. Look, don¡¯t mind me. I have everything I wanted. I got new food, kegs of brew I hope, new water filters, and the terran couple I trust. Shaotzi, I don¡¯t need you here and especially the fluffbutt. Domoja is all I ne¡ª¡±

    Shaotzi¡®s hand came at me fast. I couldn¡¯t block it or duck away. She took a hold of one of my clumped skindreads and yanked it. A loud crack came and hot pain radiated from it, making me scream in the hangar.

    I staggered away and looked, whimpering in pain. The clump of stacked endoskin bark ripped off to separate the three skindreads. The new flesh was pink and started to bleed sap to seal it from the open air.

    I looked back as Shaotzi examined the chunk in her hand.

    "Handled?" She asked. "You let your scavas grow wild. You need a shave and some sun, brother.¡±

    ¡°Bit me,¡± I hissed. The pain was already subsiding. ¡°Crogging hate you doing that.¡±

    The humans watched but never approached. A few cringed from the act, while the most enjoyed my suffering. I snatched the bark from her and tucked it in my pants pocket. It¡¯ll have to be burned at camp later.

    ¡°And if you¡¯re thinking father is not safe, I assure you. He¡¯s on new medication and our close friends are with him until I return.¡±

    ¡°Ah, so that wretched disease is under control I assume?¡± Domoja asked.

    ¡°It¡¯s slowing down.¡±

    ¡°Good, good. Really Jaruka, she¡¯s doing all the hard work. Family is important, you know.¡±

    ¡°I get it.¡± I shook my head. ¡°You forget why I can¡¯t go back!¡±

    Domoja¡¯s ears flicked back. ¡°And nobody does. Damn shame.¡±

    There was one piece I needed to clarify above anything else. ¡°Now hang on, forget about me, what about the crystal expert from D.E.M.? Denverbay promised.¡±

    The professor stuffed his immigration papers inside his robe as he explained. ¡°Customs agents caught him with buela pneumonia that even I didn¡¯t know he had. Quite fatal for humans. I¡¯ll have to make due on that part.¡±

    ¡°The Dolma species?! You''ve gotta be kidding!¡± They were the perfect people to examine the Wave Crystals. They could easily understand the crystal design, to find every embedded secret. I felt so pissed I thought the Goddess was against me.

    ¡°Denverbay couldn¡¯t risk sending a replacement.¡±

    ¡°He has the power to replace them! We¡¯re there others?¡±

    ¡°Oh, there was. First mentioning new magic and people salivated over the prospects, then when the Sol System was mentioned, ninety-nine percent backed out.¡±

    ¡°Great.¡±

    ¡°Now, shall we start heading to your residence, pupil?¡± Domoja tapped his cane twice and walked back to the ship. ¡°You can fly the ship there. Nobody¡¯s stopping you.¡±

    A sudden eye twitch came. I had every intention to fly my new ship. I looked toward Amber as she gathered her papers and stuffed them in her packs. She noticed me and waved.

    ¡°You fly the ship there. I¡¯ll meet you there,¡± I said and walked off.

    ¡°But I¡¯m not a pilot!¡± Domoja said.

    My temper was high when I got to my Howler Cycle. I told a soldier to open the hangar doors with some threatening banter. I didn''t look back at them, just waited. I gritted my teeth and tried to take steady breaths.

    ¡°Yo, wait up, Jaruka,¡± Scott said behind me. ¡°Where are you going?¡±

    ¡°Back to camp.¡±

    ¡°Already?¡±

    ¡°The ship will land there. I¡¯m too pissed to fly it now. You and Katie meet us at the camp and then pick them up to drive them to your home.¡±

    Scott got in front of me. ¡°Oh no, out of the question. We don¡¯t know who they really are.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re trustworthy. Have anybody else I know broke your trust?¡±

    Scott was about to argue but I repeated myself.

    ¡°No,¡± he said.

    ¡°Then meet me there,¡± I said and revved my Howler Cycle¡¯s fusion engine to life. ¡°I need to vent.¡±

    I put on my helmet, mounted my ride, and sped out of the hangar.

    <hr>

    Human news travels fast.

    The campsite squatters were awake and journalist¡¯s vehicles lined the street. . Traffic was terrible. I couldn¡¯t arrive at camp to beat the ship landing, and everyone watched it. Somehow the refraction shield added the ship and the passengers to the list. Did they do it remotely? Was it Amber¡¯s doing?

    The humans heard I was coming and let me in as usual. Amber was out first, lying on the dry grass, yelling at the dropship¡¯s state. It wasn¡¯t home, and I treated it as such. Amber saw it as an engineering masterpiece, defaced by scavengers. She was running around the ship on all fours and sixes checking every inch of my temporary home. She always takes technology seriously, it¡¯s in Vyroken blood. At least the dropship was still locked.

    Shaotzi and Domoja regarded it with distaste.

    I took my helmet off and said, ¡°It served its purpose.¡±

    ¡°For a Creos bum,¡± Domoja said. ¡°You expect us to sleep in there tonight.¡±

    ¡°Scott and Katie are coming to pick you all up. For now, I just want to be alone tonight.¡±

    Shatozi said nothing. I then noticed Scott and Katie driving up and entering the shield.

    ¡°Now get going,¡± I said and started walking up the ship¡¯s ramp. I found the control panel to start closing the ramp. The terran couple was out speaking to them but I didn''t care to listen.

    The airlock closed.

    And then, there was silence. I finally breathed out, relaxing a little. I set my head against the closed ramp.

    The only sound came from the fusion engine, still powering down. I took a couple breaths. I could smell the new ship smell I heard so much about, something humans could compare to as lemon. I opened my eyes and turned around.

    The workshop was clean. All brushed stainless steel. The shelves and locked cabinets were dent-free. The center was occupied by metal locked crates earing symbols of the D.E.M., four of them. Must be the testing equipment, I wondered. There were non-crate items to the right, my assumption was their luggage. Amber still lugs that ugly dark red duffle bag, embellished with ship grease and oil.

    My eyes fell on a brand-new glass-blowing furnace in the middle for the right wall. I checked a few cabinets. Ammunition was forbidden, but there were pieces and ingredients to rebuilding my plasma bullet arsenal. No barrels of stable plasma, though, I had to improvise eventually. And new tools. No pawned or salvaged tools in view.

    Back on the Lunar Spear, there was a single staircase in the middle of the workshop that folded against the roof and airlock. The newer models now have a recessed staircase on the port side with airlock doors on both ends. Each one is designed well to withstand the vacuum of space and weapon fire. Each step was brushed with non-slip tape.

    Up the stairs and through the second airlock, my new living quarters were clean. The bed was made with dark brown sheets. The bedframe had six drawers built-in with magnetic latches. A recessed desk on the starboard side, bare of materials and objects, soon to be filled with my journals I recovered. The floor was steel on top of a dense beige carpet. I took my boots off and dug my toes into the carpet. I moaned from the little massage.

    To the right of the bed was the bathroom door. I went through to check the bathroom. Clean. Sink, shower/tub big enough for Kantra¡¯s ego, toilet--all the necessities. All white and bare of color. The tub was one of the upgrades. Past the bathroom door was the lead door leading to the fusion engine room. Some call it a hazard to be washing up while an advanced energy source was separated by four inches of solid lead but try building a mercenary ship to fit everybody¡¯s needs.

    It works for me.

    I left the bathroom and to the new lounge, separated by a sliding door.

    This new model has a rounder space but the placement was just the same as the old ship. The galley to my left with the basic appliances, the two closet pantries, the sitting area to my right, a half-moon booth, and a table. In front of the galley had a small table and two seats bolted into the hull. I wanted it to be more custom, so I asked for lighter wood countertops and wall accents.

    On the other side of the lounge was an airlock door to the new bridge. I made a note to soak in that next.

    I checked the pantries, and to my blessing, they were stocked with non-human food.

    ¡°Thank you,¡± I sighed and closed it.

    Then I stopped and stared at something I didn''t catch earlier on the counter next to the sink.

    A framed photograph, propped on top of a stack of hand-written letters and video chips from people with Nova I assumed. I swallowed.

    Palaron Beach. It was one of the many ¡°breaks¡± for Nova Company. The yellow sand was bright that day. The photo had me in the middle, wearing bathing shorts and sandals to bear the heat of the day. And I wasn¡¯t alone. Brill Secambre held an umbrella to shield himself from the light, wearing loose pants and a shirt to stay cool. My sports nemesis shadowwalker jerk Kantra, the time when we were on good behavior until the Howler Cycle Quarter-Finals races begin. Shaotzi was in a bodysuit and shades with a hand on my right shoulder, smirking like me. Amber, lying on the sand facing the camera, but munching on the local purple fruit. A Donus gunslinger I knew before was with us but never remembered his name. He got traded out to the Royal Navy months later.

    All of them, even me, were happy¡­ on my birthday.

    ¡°What a party.¡±

    I jumped from the abrupt cut from the silence. Amber¡¯s upper half leaned on a cabinet door, not reacting from scaring me. ¡°That day. That fruit. Just one and I was smashed all day. Must¡¯ve been days to come back sober.¡± She laughed. ¡°Still felt guilty missing out on the fun.¡±

    I said nothing.

    ¡°That dropship. Oof. What a mess. I¡¯ll have days to sort that baby out for space wor¡­¡±

    ¡°Why did you come?¡± I asked. I turned the photo phase down.

    Her bushy orange-ringed tail didn¡¯t wag.

    ¡°I came to help.¡±

    ¡°No,¡± I said, shaking my head. ¡°It¡¯s more than that. I can see it. You still want to apologize.¡±

    Amber sniffed. ¡°Of course.¡±

    ¡°Amber, what you did was inexcusable.¡±

    ¡°I always explained, and you never listened.¡± She walked up to me. ¡°Every call, every letter, every chance to talk to you, it has always been about that night. I just wanted to make peace. What you did was inexcusable.¡±

    ¡°You were hurt? What about me? Coming to this planet without warning is not right. Convincing Brill was not right. This place is not good for Vyroken, especially in your condition.¡±

    ¡°Seems that you stayed the same as ever,¡± she said. ¡°Plus I haven¡¯t had a vacation in a while so¡­¡±

    I stepped up to her and laid my hand on her upper chest.

    Amber yelped but didn¡¯t swat my hand away. ¡°Wow, that fast? Tell me, when was the last time you had a companion under the sheets?¡±

    ¡°Shut it,¡± I said. ¡°This.¡±

    I felt over her chest, above her breasts you pervs. Her fur was soft. The touch was comforting, but the scar under that fur took up my attention.

    ¡°Your artificial heart,¡± I said. ¡°Is it shielded?¡±

    ¡°Really?¡±

    ¡°Is it shielded?¡± I pressed.

    Amber pushed my hand away. ¡°Of course, it''s shielded. It¡¯s always is.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t feel it shielded.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s you exaggerating. Who¡¯s the tech genius here?¡±

    ¡°But you don¡¯t know shit about humans.¡±

    Amber groaned. ¡°I heard about terran magic. Supposedly it will not affect it.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not the magic,¡± I said. ¡°Their nuclear technology can create electromagnetic pulses when used as weapons. That heart can be susceptible, even with all the hardest cogs and wires sealed from the surge. Your heart will freeze and nobody will be blamed by yourself coming here.¡±

    Amber''s muzzle smiled and she said, "So you do care for me, after all these years."

    ¡°You ripped my heart out, and I don¡¯t want yours to be as well,¡± I said.

    It was hard enough to say that I want her alive because I wanted my sister and Academy professor to stay alive. They don''t have the same protection as me, at least I believed it was the case.

    The light in Amber''s eyes went away. "And you''re the same stuck-up Halcunac running from your past," she said. "I''m still staying."

    ¡°Amber, don¡¯t¡­

    ¡°Tat tat tat, don¡¯t make it such a big deal. I''m still shaken after what happened.¡±

    I blinked. ¡°Don¡¯t give me that.¡±

    ¡°Here¡¯s the thing. I was at HQ. Brill summoned me a week after you were rescued. I was shocked you had work problems. I could¡¯ve had my parents offer you a spot at the shop, but hell, that¡¯s just me thinking beyond our breakup. Wringheart and others told me to forget you as I sobbed, and you know how that goes.¡± I sneered. ¡°Me and Brill talked for a long time. So, when the chance came, I upgraded my heart with Zendath crystal-tech. EMP resistant."

    I didn¡¯t argue.

    ¡°See? I did my homework.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t know the species like I do.¡±

    ¡°Then I¡¯ll start learning tonight,¡± Amber said. ¡°However, the ship still needs some work. Still needs an A.I. to configure, I have to set up the guidance and navigation computer to this planet¡¯s, and I swear I heard a loose bolt on the fourth landing strut."

    ¡°I can modify it myself,¡± I said.

    Amber tapped a finger on my chest. ¡°After what you did to that brand new dropship? Fat chance, buster. My name is on it too.¡±

    I frowned. ¡°Wait. What do you mean?¡±

    Amber leaned over a little closer. "Joint registration," she said. "Councilman''s orders. You, Brill, your sister, and me. Just to make sure this agreement you made is still fulfilled. Which means I can do whatever the cog-wallup I can do with it.¡±

    I stepped back. ¡°Whatever. It¡¯s still my ship. I paid for it.¡±

    ¡°But you still need help.¡±

    I folded my arms and stepped back one foot. ¡°Still think it¡¯s a bad idea.¡±

    ¡°But being on a new planet is a thrill onto itself.¡± She leaned forward to kiss me on the cheek

    I looked away.

    Amber regarded it and leaned back. ¡°For what it¡¯s worth, it¡¯s good to see you again, J.¡±

    Amber then scuddled back and left the ship.

    So my new ship has four owners, including me. Either of us can do anything with it, even take it from me. Crog. What am I going to do? I thought.

    I couldn''t think of anything else as I wanted to see the rest of the ship until Domoja came up the stairs.

    ¡°I thought you were going with the couple,¡± I asked him.

    ¡°Not tonight, pupil,¡± he said. ¡°Can¡¯t leave you alone without doing a health check. Denverbay¡¯s orders.

    I groaned. ¡°Domoja, please, I just want to be alone.¡±

    ¡°Not on my watch. Even PCPA criminals get health care.¡±

 Chapter 6

    Walsh Estate Winery

    Temecula, CA

    4:58 PM

    Dad is not gonna like this.

    I thought that over and over in my head since we left Jaruka¡¯s camp. I wished we had some control, some choice. How long could I handle one annoying beat after another from Jaruka?

    ¡°Yeah¡­ Yeah,¡± Scott said on his phone as he drove past the winery¡¯s gates. ¡°Good. All three with you?¡­Good. Thanks, Deryl.¡± He hung up and said to me, ¡°They agreed. He can spare three of his men tonight and will call Temecula Police for more. Jonathan¡¯s going to have a fit.¡±

    ¡°Yep,¡± I droned.

    ¡°Is there a problem, Ms. Walsh?¡± Shaotzi asked me. She sat on the middle bench seat behind Scott, far from the side door. Each time I looked back at her since we left, she kept her legs crossed, hands folded, and that super long decorated dreadlock draped over her lap. It was surreal she was with us. She was Jaruka¡¯s sister, a complete one-eighty of the guy, and dressed well.

    ¡°Just for security. This is all last minute for us,¡± Scott answered. ¡°Taking you both to a hotel wasn¡¯t planned out.¡±

    Shaotzi didn¡¯t answer and continued looking out the window.

    I turned a little more in my seat to check on Amber. ¡°You sure you¡¯re comfortable?¡±

    The middle bench seat doesn¡¯t recline. Amber had to brace herself in the back, arms and hands pressed to the corners of the roof and shoving her lower half against the back door to not bang around on turns and bumps on the road. She expressed some frustration.

    ¡°Still fine,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯ve dealt with worse in ship access hatches than this.¡±

    ¡°Okay,¡± I said, but I blinked a few times and turned back to the front. Anytime looking at her and not seeing her and Jaruka¡­ together in my mind, it made me taste vomit. Just¡­ how?! And why?!

    Scott stopped the van at the warehouse¡¯s parking lot, but we didn¡¯t leave yet. Behind us, the black van stopped beside us and four people came out. Deryl came up to Scott¡¯s window as he lowered it.

    ¡°Stay inside until it¡¯s secure,¡± Deryl said before leaving and calling out, ¡°Marcus. Henson. Check the south and east corners. Grayson, help me lock the gate before you check the west.¡± All four of them walked away to do their tasks in the sunset.

    Scott turned in his seat to face the aliens. ¡°So, uh, like the view?¡±

    Amber was now resting on the bench seatback. ¡°It looks stunning,¡± she said. ¡°Better than staring at stars and bulkheads for months. And those lanes are all fruit bushes, you said?¡±

    ¡°Grapevines,¡± I said. ¡°They¡¯re just starting to grow grapes for our wine.¡±

    Amber cooed. ¡°That explains Jaruka¡¯s shirt stains.¡±

    My body tensed a little. ¡°And what do you think, Shaotzi?¡± I asked her. Her name came out of me over-pronouncing the o. ¡°Sorry.¡±

    Since we left camp, she kept looking out the window with a stern face. Quiet and proper, just getting used to a new world, I suppose. She was watching the agents do their job before looking toward me. ¡°The similarities are uncanny.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean?¡± I asked.

    ¡°This land reminds me of home. Without the sea close by. Your family¡¯s creation?¡±

    I nodded. ¡°Yes. I¡¯m third generation.¡±

    Shatozi hummed and said, ¡°Nice to know some species appreciate nature¡¯s bounty.¡±

    We¡¯ve known Jaruka long enough to tolerate his blunt comments and self-centeredness, yet I kept reminding myself this was not Jaruka. Was it that I mispronounced her name wrong she said that? It¡¯s hard to tell because, at the same time, I tried my best to respect her.

    So, I managed to say, ¡°Um, thank you, Do you mind if¡­¡±

    A knock from my door¡¯s window interrupted me before I finished. Deryl stood there and I let him open the door. ¡°All good and secure,¡± he said. ¡°You all can go in.¡±

    We left the van but Amber was let out through the back doors. She walked out without tripping her four legs, then she stretched her centaur-ish body. Lieutenant Manis Wringheart from Brill¡¯s ship reminded me of her. Standing straight, she was a few inches higher than me. What little light we had, I could pick out some fox bits like her head and uncovered fur pattern, but some raccoon bits on her tail and feet. Or paws. Or¡­ something.

    Like clockwork, my parents came out from the front door. Dad stomped toward us.

    ¡°I told you all you can¡¯t do this, you¡¯re scaring off customers,¡± he yelled. ¡°Put them in a hotel. Just not here!¡±

    Deryl got between him and us. ¡°You think I tried? Not even the casino wants them.¡±

    Mom stayed back on the porch. I noticed her react to the aliens and cover her mouth. Which one she was reacting to, I wouldn¡¯t know. I glanced at Amber as she grimaced from Dad¡¯s outburst.

    ¡°Dad, we did this before with Xi¡¯Tra,¡± I said. ¡°That trashed ship is locked and Jaruka¡¯s not having it tonight. This is the best we can do.¡±

    ¡°We had hoards of crazies squat outside the gates when that sonic boom hit. We can¡¯t take this anymore.¡± The blood vessel on his forehead started bulging.

    I could handle Scott and Jaruka, but calming Dad down? I felt smaller against him. Using magic to diffuse emotions was a line I would never cross with him.

    Then Shaotzi¡¯s ornate clothing occupied my sight. I stumbled back from the surprise. She stood a foot away from Dad, looking down at him. He too was shaken up with the same look I had if it was Jaruka as he stepped back a little.

    ¡°Mr. Walsh, I presume?¡± She asked, clasping her hands. ¡°My sincere apologies, sir, for this abrupt visit. It¡¯s not my place to be trapped in family squabbles. You might see me as a threat but I assure you, I¡¯m not like my little brother. He said we could stay for the night. Although, with him being agitated by me and my co-traveler,¡± she nudged her head at Amber, already sitting on the grass with her animal half, ¡°I¡¯d be best to give him some space.¡±

    Amber waved at Dad. ¡°And the dropship is trashed to shit,¡± she added.

    ¡°That too,¡± Shaotzi said. ¡°Anyway, rest assured, Mr. Walsh, we will not bring any annoyance to you or your family. No more, no less. Tomorrow, once she has a plan ready, we will return to the camp to get things sorted out.¡± Shatozi then pulled out an object from her dress pocket and held it to Dad in both hands. ¡°Please accept this token of gratitude and goodwill from my people to yours.¡±

    I had to lift on my toes to see it. Her hands were above her waist, holding a two-inch-wide wooden hexagon coin. The light brown wood had a charred etching design, some alien animal behind a circle if recall. The sunlight was fading so it was difficult to get a better look at it.

    ¡°Uh¡­¡± Dad was finding words before saying, ¡°Wait, Jaruka has family?¡±

    ¡°His privacy is sacred to him, and me.¡±

    Dad was apprehensive of the gift, looking between it and Shaotzi. He then took a second to accept the object. ¡°Uh¡­ thanks.¡±

    Shaotzi smiled a little.

    Mom soon approached us. ¡°He never mentioned anything about his family. Did he, Katie?¡± She said.

    I shook my head. Scott did too.

    ¡°We have some¡­ reservations talking about our lives,¡± Shaotzi said.

    Dad pocketed the token. ¡°Well. I suppose if you¡¯re not like him, we¡¯ll let this happen. Not sure about you. What¡¯s your name?¡±

    Amber approached them. ¡°Amber Diremoon of Nova Company. I¡¯m part of the ship maintenance division.¡±

    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s interesting. I¡¯m guessing you¡¯re a friend of hers?¡±

    ¡°More like Jaruka¡¯s ex-girlfriend, but yeah. So nice to meet you both.¡± She said smiling.

    My parents quickly went slack-jawed staring at Amber and I felt blood flush from my face. Dad looked at Amber¡¯s bottom half, then back to the top, and a few more times. I noticed Amber realizing what she said and clapped her hands and said, ¡°Sooo, lovely place you have here. Oh, are those your pets?¡± Amber pointed toward the house.

    Wings flapped and heavy panting came from the front door. Arana flew over us, turned, then perched herself on top of the front lawn¡¯s Wave crystal. Keeji whirled around us saying, ¡°Newcomers, newcomers!¡± just as Scott groaned from his totem¡¯s playfulness.

    ¡°Oh, they can talk,¡± Amber said. ¡°Are they some science experiment or something?¡±

    ¡°Certainly not, miss,¡± Arana said. ¡°It¡¯s quite complicated if you never read what¡¯s happened.¡±

    ¡°Geez, formal much?¡± Amber then yelped as Keeji pranced in front of her. She laughed and scratched the back of Keeji¡¯s ears. ¡°This one''s friendly.¡±

    Amber scoffed, then turned to Shaotzi. ¡°Regardless, it¡¯s an honor to have you both. First time we¡¯ve seen honor shown from a species such as yours.¡±

    Shaotzi tilted her head for a second. ¡°So these are the totems I heard about.¡±

    I nodded.

    Shaotzi went back looking at the totems with a hum. ¡°Interesting.¡±

    So fast forward from that awkward meeting, Mom and Dad allowed them in the house. It was also dinner time for us, but the aliens declined to join. Both had immunity nanite injections recently and were still acclimating to the planet¡¯s ecosystem. Amber calculated it¡¯ll take until sunrise tomorrow to finish the calibration, so in the meantime, they ate freeze-dried food packs they traveled with. They asked for distilled hot water to reconstitute and eat them without speaking with us.

    Still haven¡¯t seen Robert come out of his room. Mom said he¡¯s still having jet lag from the trip. Odd. Jacob on the other hand refused to meet the aliens. Understandable.

    Deryl finished setting up security around the winery. The tree agents set their spots and had four local police officers rotate them for coffee breaks. They didn¡¯t interfere with our as Deryl promised, something we''re familiar with already. Deryl couldn¡¯t stay for dinner, he had to get back to his family in Corona to rest.

    For sleeping. Amber chose the large living room couch. With her whole body outstretched, the couch fit her length. Then she brought out a tablet computer to start her research and planning for tomorrow. For Shaotzi, that was an odd one. She opted to sleep outside under the stars. We tried offering Scott¡¯s room once we got it cleaned up, but she refrained. Us and the agents told her it was a bad idea, but she was adamant and told us she has a personal shield device strapped to her upper right arm, the same make as Jaruka¡¯s. With the lounge chair set at the fire pit lit, she was satisfied.

    After dinner, Scott tapped on my shoulder before I went into my room. ¡°Yeah, honey?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Remember what I said this morning?¡± He asked me.

    I didn¡¯t hesitate to remember. ¡°Oh. Ohhhh¡­¡± I said with wide eyes. ¡°Dad¡¯s birthday.¡±

    Scott nodded. ¡°You trust me going out?¡±

    He wasn¡¯t talking about my Dad, but his. Every time his parent¡¯s birthdays or a holiday comes up, he drives to the cemetery across from the airbase to visit their graves. Sometimes I go with him, but he prefers to go alone. It would be the first visit since last Thanksgiving.

    I took his hand. ¡°Want me to come with his time?¡±

    Scott exhaled. ¡°I think I¡¯ll be alright,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯ll have Keeji with me, and I feel my heart full. I gave the caretaker a heads up.¡±

    ¡°Okay,¡± I said. ¡°Let¡¯s do one more heart scan to be sure and brush up on your casting. Just in case.¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± he said and he joined me in my bedroom.

    <hr>

    Alien Campsite

    6:07 PM

    ¡°Consider yourself fortunate, Jaruka. Any longer alone and you wouldn¡¯t last beyond two full moons. Cholesterol is too high, your liver is almost poisoned, and you lack any necessary nutrition. By the gods, ration packs aren¡¯t meant for casual meals, you know.¡±

    He didn¡¯t have to banter on about my health results, it was all background noise to me. That¡¯s Domoja for you. Still looking out for my well-being. Bio-scans was a tedious task.

    After I showered in the first hot shower in months, then put on a new shirt and shorts from the closet, I came out of the bathroom and something hit my head to make me yelp. ¡°Just like first-year,¡± Domoja said. The object pinged on the floor and rolled to a stop, a silver coin from his homeworld.

    I sighed and said, ¡°Nothing about it is news for me.¡±

    ¡°You were ecstatic seeing the ship, but brushing off your health?¡±

    ¡°Not like that.¡±

    Domoja scoffed and said, ¡°This is worse, pupil. Killing yourself won¡¯t solve nothing.¡±

    Domoja sighed and set his touchpad on the dining alcove table. As the sunset, the ship¡¯s lights kept the ship¡¯s interior details lit, from the hull to the brushed metal walls. The bright white lights were too much for me. I told myself to change them in the future. ¡°Say it.¡±

    ¡°Say what?¡± I asked.

    ¡°To stop eating ration packs,¡± he answered.

    I said nothing. He took that as my answer and turned to the kitchen counter.

    He had a small metal cauldron on the induction stove, the potion simmered for the last half hour. The air smelled sweet as he did my physical. He added a few more ingredients and stirred it with a wooden ladle as he stood on a pull-out bar stool.

    ¡°If I didn¡¯t know better, you were ruining yourself just for a detox,¡± Domoja said.

    ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°Liar.¡±

    I stood by him. ¡°Truth doesn¡¯t matter. I know the ending and you do too.¡±

    Domoja stopped stirring and looked up at me. His big ears lowered a little. ¡°The Jaruka I know never gave up and solved his way out of problems. Always looking for a way out.¡± He set the ladle down. ¡°Even from an afternoon lecture.¡±

    ¡°Spare me,¡± I said. ¡°Is the potion ready?¡±

    Domoja turned off the stove. He then closed his eyes, raised his fingers above the potion, spoke in his ancient arcane language, and a cold gust penetrated the potion. The steam disappeared and the boil ceased. I felt a cold breeze on my arms, enough to wince from the ice magic.

    ¡°Alright,¡± he said, ¡°now just¡­¡±

    I snatched the cold cauldron with both hands and gulped the entire potion.

    ¡°Drink one cup every thirty minutes,¡± Domoja finished.

    Ration packs are hazardous to anybody¡¯s health. Full of salt, too many preservatives then nutrients, and can gum up everything. I had no choice. Drinking Walsh wine was the exception, yet I still refused to eat the local food. Faldegan rejuvenation potion is the closest to a nutrient-dense stab in the heart and plumbing cleaner that I can tolerate. All the known vegetables from his planet were macerated into a vitamin-rich soup and infused with Feldeg healing herbs, plus three percent alcohol and citrus juice to take the edge off.

    I guzzled an equivalent of six doses in one action. It still smelled sweet, but it tasted woody and bitter.

    I finished and set the cauldron on the table. I breathed. In an instant, I felt the effects without digesting for an hour. The potion is fast-acting, no need to wait for an hour. I felt an intense convulsion in my stomach and spine as I fell over. There was no reason to resist, I let the potion do its work. I was aware of it all, feeling my muscles constrict and relax over and over. My breathing turned erratic. Pain cascaded throughout my body, and then a euphoric sense of relief. Ever made love to a Vesto callgirl? Something like that.

    The convulsions ceased all at once as I breathed heavy. I turned over and stood up on my knees. I set my hand on the counter, hanging on as I got my breath under control. ¡°Goddess, what a rush,¡± I said coughing.

    Then I felt my insides twist and gurgle out loud. ¡°Shit,¡± I said, literally, and then ran to my new ship¡¯s bathroom.

    I¡¯ll spare you the details of what went down, but I felt more clear-headed and pain-free than ever in years after expelling every toxin and preservative in my body. In the bathroom mirror, my skin gained a darker, healthier green hue and felt stronger for the first time in a Creos year.

    I came out several minutes later to find Domoja back at the kitchen alcove. He was still reading my health report from his touchpad, unfazed from the profanity and barfing I¡¯d done. ¡°Seriously? Two packs a day?¡±

    I shrugged, then said, ¡°Thank you.¡±

    He smiled. ¡°It¡¯s the least a good friend can do. Besides, I got some real food for you this time.¡±

    I checked the table. Domoja had two recognizable wrapped bundles in white paper and a metal pitcher beside them. ¡°You didn¡¯t?¡± I said.

    Domoja nodded with a sly smile.

    ¡°How did customs miss them?¡±

    ¡°I assured them that no crumb or drop will escape this ship. Told them it¡¯s for medical healing, for you. I knew you wouldn¡¯t say no to the family recipe.¡±

    I laughed. ¡°No sir, I wouldn¡¯t.¡± I sat across from him and unwrapped my bundle.

    It would be best to describe in detail what I held and confuse human readers with the pronunciations, but think of it as a vegetarian street Italian sandwich with more vegetables than a Cobb salad, paired with Domoja¡¯s wife¡¯s blood gourd pudding. The vegetable, not actual blood.

    Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

    The pitcher was from his homeworld too. Homemade zuku ale. Domoja poured me and himself a glass of the deep yellow brew. ¡°Now, enough with the medical stuff,¡± he said. ¡°Let¡¯s catch up like proper friends.¡±

    We went on for hours, talking about anything but this planet. It¡¯s what I wanted. Any chance to forget about my situation was worthwhile. Having Domoja by me to speak with is better than wasting away in depression.

    I¡¯ve known Domoja as long as I left Viro the first time. At the Capitol Academy on Creos, he was my paramagic professor. It¡¯s the study of magical genealogy and evolution. Think of it as analyzing which fireball spell came from which magic system and species. Mostly used for criminal cases and descendant research, I think. But Domoja was not just a professor. He was a friend, a war buddy, my third father figure. We had each other''s backs, but he held mine the most when my people increased the pressure on my well-being.

    Here¡¯s why I asked him specifically to come to Terra Firma.

    Years ago, we were drafted to fight the Goomash Raid, the largest, bloodiest, and most damning GMT event the galaxy ever witnessed. It nearly wiped the Galmadesh species, the victims in that psycho dictator¡¯s magic-science experiment, to near extinction. While I killed and maimed the GMTs on the frontlines, he was part of the team developing treatments to reverse the experiment on a massive scale.

    GMTs are nasty. Taboo and illegal across the Republic. People debate about it to exhaustion. The paramagic community gets obsessive with the morals and ethics of it, how it destroys societies and cultures. What could happen, what would happen at the worst possible level when artificial magic corrupts genetics and natural magic evolution and blah blah blah. I only worried about how many corpses it would produce to make me sick.

    I lost track of time reminiscing on the past with Domoja to the point I was laughing so hard from his stories working with the D.E.M.

    ¡°And then,¡± he continued, ¡°the captain¡¯s son, bless his soul, went missing in the bunker.¡±

    ¡°Oh, shit!¡± I said.

    ¡°And we had seconds on the countdown timer. Seconds, pupil! Taric aborted the ritual at the half-second mark.¡±

    I almost spit my ale out. ¡°Did you find the little croger?¡±

    ¡°Oh, we found him,¡± Domoja said. ¡°The captain found him fooling around with the Administrator¡¯s daughter in the view box above ours!¡±

    I let out a full-belly laugh, strong and hearty. I almost cried. Domoja laughed as well, albeit embarrassed still from the story. It was the first real laugh I had in a year.

    ¡°Oh, man,¡± I said in between laughing. ¡°The prick got it coming.¡±

    ¡°I know! Imagine if the void spell went off. He¡¯d be blind for the rest of his life.¡±

    ¡°Yeah. Blind-sighted by his glands.¡±

    Domoja did a spit-take and laughed, pounding his fingers on the table. A good laugh. Years apart and we still connect. Domoja then took a puff from his wooden weed pipe. All the portholes were open to vent the charred smoke out. Yes, our translators were adjusted, thank you.

    ¡°D.E.M. has you busy these days,¡± I said.

    ¡°Indeed. We¡¯re just finishing some void experiments for the Locacsans,¡± Domoja said, refilling his glass with the last of the ale. ¡°By this time most of the younger ones are out on holiday.¡± He glanced at me. ¡°I¡¯d be performing the audit if The Hammer didn¡¯t summon me.¡±

    ¡°Hey. I asked for you. I wasn¡¯t sure you would agree.¡±

    ¡°A PCPA planet experiencing a potential GMT event? All classified? And you involved? How can I pass that up?¡±

    ¡°Your wife would,¡± I asked, then sipped my ale. The sandwiches were already down to crumbs on the wrappers.

    ¡°Ah. Stepbrothers and sisters are plenty, and my job is demanding. I came because of you, pupil.¡±

    I nodded. ¡°Again, thank you.¡± I set my glass down and glanced at him. ¡°So tell me, oh professor of mine. What do you think?¡±

    He took a puff then said, ¡°About what?¡±

    ¡°The couple. This planet. Have you caught yourself up with everything? I¡¯m sure Xi¡¯Tra had you review everything before coming.¡±

    He nodded. ¡°All of it. Three passes.¡± He paused to set his pipe down and said, ¡°the two we met are the real deal?¡±

    ¡°I feel it in my chest when they cast. It¡¯s¡­ something else.¡±

    Domoja hummed. ¡°With the videos, the audio, those memory recordings she saved, it¡¯s hard to conclude what we''re dealing with.¡±

    ¡°How so?¡± I asked, then leaned back in the alcove.

    Domoja scratched his chin. ¡°Genetic Magical Transformations are unstable. It rattles the mind and body to the point of self-destructing itself. Every event I researched has always resulted in violent outcomes.¡±

    ¡°Like the Goomash Raid.¡±

    ¡°Yes. The Goomash Raid,¡± he said nodding. ¡°However, the Galmadesh was mentally controlled by the dictator. Everything I¡¯ve researched about this, and don¡¯t you dare quote me on this, on one spectrum, they look stable.¡±

    I nodded slowly. ¡°Too stable,¡± I said. ¡°Independent.¡±

    ¡°And I can¡¯t make any conclusion without hard evidence. If those two I¡¯ve met are trustworthy, I might get the cleanest samples from this ever.¡±

    ¡°Their media outlets are praying for a cure,¡± I said. ¡°I have my doubts. Some are spreading cactus oil for all I know.¡±

    ¡°The mutated are spreading the rumors?¡±

    ¡°No. Humans. The non-changed. The corrupt. Some get downright hypocritical and split politics. I try to stay out of that.¡±

    ¡°I bet you do,¡± Domoja said and finished his ale.

    ¡°The amount of wormshit I deal with, Professor, is criminal. Those idiots outside the shield dome. They believe I¡¯m their holy savior or some ¡®Satan¡¯ character they bitch about. Bunch of primitive idiots to me.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, well. Primitive cultures love their echo chambers.¡±

    I nodded. ¡°You believe they¡¯re stable?¡±

    ¡°I told you, I must study them before I make any conclusions, pupil,¡± Domoja said. ¡°Unless you did the work for me to peer review.¡±

    I leaned back. ¡°Depends.¡±

    ¡°Depends on what?¡± His big right ear tilted up, clanking a few rings.

    I finished the rest of my drink and set the glass on the table. ¡°Come with me. You need to see this.¡±

    We left the new ship and all its security. The sky¡¯s stars twinkled, but the lights from the camps outside the dome faded the dimmer ones. Once Domoja came out of the rear hatch, I heard them chattering away, trying to get a good look at him.

    ¡°They seem eager,¡± Domoja said.

    ¡°Ignore them.¡±

    I opened the dropship¡¯s rear hatch and guided him in before I gave the campers the finger. I entered next and closed the door behind me.

    The lights came on automatically, to which Domoja exclaimed in a disgusted tone. ¡°Jaruka, for real, your stubbornness is gonna kill you,¡± he said. ¡°Learn how to clean up for yourself.¡±

    The trash hasn¡¯t changed since the other night. Some of the spit-out seeds rested at the bottom of a paper cup. See? I can be thoughtful.

    ¡°Not now,¡± I said. ¡°Now hear me out. From anything me or Xi¡¯Tra sent, did it mention anything concrete about terran magic?¡±

    He set both his hands on his cane and placed it in front of him. ¡°I recall limb regeneration, how they cast magic, and such. That ¡®keystone¡¯ part was interesting. You wrote that it¡¯s too much to send without help.¡±

    ¡°Exactly. If you want to study this GMT event¡­¡± I started, then began pulling the long on the starboard side of the ship away. ¡°Get a stiff drink.¡±

    To visitors, the upper-right side of the dropship that used to be the fire extinguisher and several seats embedded in the detachable hull side doors became unrecognizable for months. Ten to twelve square feet of the surface was defaced in my research. I had three tables installed to work on, plus added these pegboards from the local hardware store with Scott¡¯s financial help. There were paper drawings, printed photographs, ripped and pinned pages from Scott¡¯s spellbook with my handwritten notes, articles translated from the planet¡¯s internet, and notes in my handwriting no human could translate. Each was pinned and linked with colored twine for specific categories. Offensive, defensive, ritual, incantation, process, you crogging name it. Scott¡¯s spellbook sat in the middle table, closed, free from my defacing long ago. I still couldn¡¯t understand how or why the pages regenerate when I rip them out.

    I turned to Domoja. He went from a curious professor to a stunned one. He walked through the trash, looking over each note on the walls and table. ¡°By the Court,¡± he said.

    ¡°I couldn¡¯t send anything more because I couldn¡¯t understand what I was about to send,¡± I explained. ¡°Every day, when I mentally can, I watch Katie practice and study from a far distance. The government¡¯s weak translator did little to help me understand the magic. Domoja, I feel it. It scares the living hell out of me.¡±

    ¡°Feel? You can feel the magic?¡±

    ¡°Have you? Those big ears of yours are more tuned to the Aether than anyone here. You had to feel a single heartbeat from their chests.¡±

    Domoja went back to the corner. He noticed the spellbook, still closed, bearing the symbolism of Scott¡¯s heritage. ¡°Pupil,¡± he said. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t lie if I did.¡±

    ¡°And?¡±

    Domoja turned to look dead in my eyes. ¡°At the hangar talking to the general, I felt a small surge from the male. Scott, I think. I didn¡¯t know what it was. I didn¡¯t want to alarm anyone about it¡­ but it felt¡­¡±

    ¡°Primal,¡± I finished for him.

    Domoja looked on at the wall of research. ¡°But this, pupil? This is the surviving scholar I know.¡± A wide grin formed.

    I stood by, looking down at him. ¡°If they look stable to you, then how come the basis and knowledge just appear in their heads and they can materialize that knowledge in a bone-breaking tome?¡± I pointed at the spellbook. ¡°GMTs don¡¯t have this level of magic without breaking reality itself. I think.¡±

    ¡°Wait, you¡¯re talking about neural-material storage?¡±

    ¡°Hell if I know. I¡¯m raised on theory, not practice. That¡¯s why I needed a clogging expert. I needed you, professor.¡±

    ¡°Former professor.¡±

    ¡°Whatever.¡± I knelt to be at eye level with him. ¡°I can¡¯t trust anyone with this research but you. You dove into the Goomash Raid and help create the cure. You defended the cure even after what that maniac did to the Council¡¯s trust. And you know the right experts to ask for.¡± A long shot if Denverbay more outsiders into this. ¡°And I believe you can science the shit out of this and be satisfied by bedtime.¡±

    Domoja whined. ¡°I¡¯m not that young anymore.¡±

    ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter. This is a diamond mine in the middle of a pulsar level of danger for all of us.¡±

    I stood up. My knees weren¡¯t taking it. ¡°I mean you had to know what Nova went through to rescue me, what we all found out and survived! Domoja, the Malcar¡¯Ji are here. On Terra Firma. I may not have magical abilities, but I sure as hell don¡¯t like why those soul-sucking demons are doing here.¡±

    ¡°Pupil, hold that thought,¡± he said with a raised wing. ¡°We still don¡¯t know if the Malcar¡¯Ji is here. You and I know the Republic tracks them ruthlessly.¡±

    My heart rate rose, I could feel my heart pounding on my rib cage when thinking back to Groom Lake, the rescue. That monster. To this day, the Malcar¡¯Ji are a species once demonic are changing their ways. They are hand-breeding themselves to be non-soul-sucking because they are aware of their nature. They understood that their old ways were not survivable and took the effort¡ªstrong effort¡ªto rewrite their DNA by time and by science. Griffon was different. The Malcar¡¯Ji I know has different colored skins and a non-scythe limb from their back. Griffon was all black, the back limb bearing a bone scythe, and enough strength to rival a celestial demi-god. I described all this to Domoja.

    ¡°Lasers, fireballs, armor-piercing rounds, a shadowwalker¡¯s necroblade, the Endeavour¡¯s main plasma cannon. My crogging plasma rifle¡¯s collective power! He pushed that slug away like it was nothing!¡± I exclaimed. ¡°None of that put a dent in that thing¡¯s hid. But terran magic tore through it like a laser sword against parchment. Explain that.¡±

    Domoja was sitting on a crate, leaning over his cane as I share my story. Everything. He didn¡¯t interject or debunk my assumptions. He drummed his fingers on his cane.

    ¡°P-Perhaps it was a fluke,¡± he said.

    ¡°Oh, come on.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m serious. There are plenty of species that imitate Malcar¡¯Ji power and counter plasma fire. The government would know if it was onewith solid evidence.¡±

    I bit the inside of my left cheek. ¡°Evidence, huh?¡±

    Domoja nodded.

    I then went straight to my cot on the other side of the dropship. I leaned down to pull a wide case as big as me from under the cot, weighing not much of my plasma rifle hanging on the wall by the cockpit. I slid it on the floor to Domoja then unlocked the four latches.

    ¡°Oh, I got evidence,¡± I said and flipped the case¡¯s lid. ¡°Just haven¡¯t had the heart to port it off this planet. You know, top-secret and all.¡±

    Domoja gasped so hard he stood from his seat.

    Inside the foam-covered interior was an object I wish I didn¡¯t want but necessary to prove it all. A Reaper¡¯s scythe. It shrunk since then, measuring a little under my height. The limb slightly curved but it turned fast with the bone scythe at the end. The whole appendage was white as ash. Anyone would see that and think ¡°awesome glave, Jaruka,¡± but wouldn¡¯t recognize where it came from or what back it blew off of from Scott¡¯s charged mana.

    Domoja approached it. ¡°Is that¡­¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± I finished. ¡°Nova¡¯s scavenging crew found it while cleaning up Groom Lake of their tech. I told them to hide it away from Denverbay and Brill, especially from the Councilman because I damn knew he¡¯dhave it destroyed.¡±

    ¡°You and governments,¡± he said. He laid his hand on it. ¡°You¡¯re not joking, right?¡±

    I blinked. ¡°Joking?¡±

    ¡°This is solid granite. It¡¯s not as proof as a vocal account.¡±

    ¡°You saying I carved this alone for four months?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Of course not. Your art grades were shit. This came off a Reaper¡¯s back?¡±

    ¡°Positive. This thing blew off its back and stabbed the earth a few feet from us. I sleep with a four-month-old fossil under my bed to remind me how close I was to death that day.¡±

    He kept staring at the scythe-like a paramagic conspiracy theorist.

    ¡°Got a working camera and enough notebooks for me?¡± He asked.

    I smiled saying, ¡°Enough to scare off a sports fanatic.¡±

    Domoja set his cane on a crate and smiled with a hunger for knowledge. He cracked his neck and said, ¡°Show me what you got.¡±

    <hr>

    11:08 PM

    It was the hardest, longest sleep so far. Working on the vineyard doesn¡¯t compare to the last ghost hunt. The second my eyes opened, I thought, ¡°Am I still in trouble?¡± over and over in my head.

    I grabbed my phone from the nightstand. No new text messages since. The last reply was from Mom after I got home.

    I checked social media. Every post from my friends and mutual friends and businesses shared the same meaningless stuff: random food pics, mundane life updates, a post from Gregory anticipating his day to be a terran to almost obsessive, and some people I still follow, yet uncomfortable to be friends with, talk about their cultish fervor to hate everything terran and magical. Alex and Frank haven¡¯t posted stuff about me, yet or not. Or the ghost hunt. They both unfriended me. Shocker.

    Jokes and memes made up the rest of the feeds.

    The news was the same propaganda as every day. I found nothing from Louisiana about me or Tabitha or the plantation.

    A pit in my stomach formed. Did Tabitha talk her sister out of calling the cops? What are Alex and Frank planning? Or not planning?

    I rubbed my face and grumbled in frustration. No use going back to sleep at this point. Maybe some food could help.

    I washed my face and found some clean sweatpants and a sweater in the closet. I left my phone in my room. I figured everybody was asleep, being so late at night. I snuck through the upstairs hall and down the stairs in the dark, making sure to not step on the third stair, then beelined to the kitchen.

    In the fridge, a plate was left for me with my name on a sticky note from Mom. Chicken casserole with roasted potatoes and asparagus. I unwrapped it from the plastic wrap and nuked it for a couple minutes. I stopped it before I beeped done.

    Then a loud snore from the living room spooked me, almost made me yell. ¡°The hell?¡± Was that Dad on the couch again? I set my plate on the bartop and checked on him.

    Good thing I didn¡¯t scream afterward.

    Draped over the entire couch was not Dad but a cross between a dog and raccoon with a humanoid torso as its head. Its four legs hovered off the couch¡¯s edge as the body took up most of the cushions and the long tail laid on the right nightstand, flicking every few seconds. It was covered in orange and red fur thanks to the kitchen light. It wore a blue shirt and nothing else. On its raccoon or fox-like head, it wore a thick eye mask and earplugs. Papers with alien symbols lay about on the floor and the coffee table and an alien tablet device sat on its furry stomach, almost ready to slip off.

    It snored again, louder and deeper.

    Great. Another alien. Who did Jaruka bring this time? But I didn¡¯t want to wake the think up and have my face ripped off by hidden claws.

    I snuck back into the kitchen and turned off the lights. No disturbance from it, or her. Just before I grabbed my plate. I noticed a yellow flickering light through the window above the sink.

    I looked outside. The firepit had stacked split logs with a modest fire. Two people were posted at the edge of the backyard and cabernet vineyard. Both men wore government agent suits. They appeared to be looking at the firepit, but my gut told me otherwise. I looked more and saw someone in a lounge chair facing the firepit.

    ¡°Fuck,¡± I whispered. What is that oaf drunk doing here? I thought. Better not be drinking the wine again.

    Can¡¯t have the fire pit going this late at night. The idiot might fall into it and burn himself. I sneaked out from the kitchen, opened and closed the patio door as quietly as I could, and walked up to Jaruka.

    ¡°Hey,¡± I said, quiet but loud enough. ¡°What¡¯s with the fire? You¡¯re not supposed to-¡°

    Jaruka turned and faced me. But it wasn¡¯t Jaruka. He never wore bright clothes or a bright orange headband. Or had a thicker, longer dreadlock from the back of the base of her skull and laid over the chair and grass.

    ¡°Did I startle you?¡± she asked.

    ¡°Y-You¡¯re not Jaruka.¡±

    She hummed and said, ¡°I get that a lot. You must be the son I heard of. Jacob, is it?¡±

    I blinked and said, ¡°R-Robert.¡±

    ¡°Ah yes. The ghost hunter. Must be tough exercising spirits these days.¡±

    ¡°Huh?¡± I asked, but it took a second to realize and said, ¡°Oh no no no. I don¡¯t do that stuff. I just look for them and get visual proof they exist. Just a hobby.¡±

    She raised an eyebrow at me. The same move Jaruka would do. ¡°Not a priest?¡±

    I shook my head.

    ¡°Odd path to follow,¡± she said.

    ¡°Gotta have something to do besides bending wine,¡± I said. ¡°So¡­ who are you?¡±

    ¡°Shaotzi,¡± she said. ¡°Shaotzi Arados.¡±

    ¡°And you¡¯re here to¡­ take Jaruka away?¡± A long shot but was hopeful this alien would grant my wish.

    ¡°No. My brother is staying put. You know, laws and all.¡±

    That hope then took a figurative summersault in my brain. ¡°Wait. Brother?¡±

    Shaotzi nodded, and I had to restrain myself from cursing. This is Jaruka¡¯s sister!? All this time, I thought he was a grumpy loaner, but this changes things. She didn¡¯t act like him so I was pretty hopeful Shaotzi was nice throughout.

    ¡°Uh¡­ mind if we talk a bit?¡± I asked her.

    ¡°I don¡¯t see why not.¡±

    I dragged the second lounge chair from the other side of the firepit. With a closer look at Shaotzi, she had some similarities to Jaruka. Her jawline was rounder than her brother¡¯s, and maybe as tall as him. The long, thick dreadlock had jewelry and straps around it, ending with the loop wrapped with colored string, reminding me of a dreamcatcher without the central netting. I sat down a few feet from her.

    ¡°Jaruka¡¯s sister. Wow,¡± I said. ¡°Like you have no idea how big this is for me. I was sure that jerk was alone.¡±

    ¡°Please. Refrain from name-calling my little brother.¡±

    ¡°Sorry. It¡¯s just¡­¡±

    ¡°Him being irritated with everything?¡± she interrupted me.

    ¡°In a way. He¡¯s been treating me and my family poorly.¡±

    ¡°Expected. Jaruka may be as he is now, but he¡¯s a decent person when he¡¯s happy. That phase will fade, I promise that. I do apologize for his behavior toward you and your family. What little I heard must be exhausting for you all.

    ¡°I can write a book about it.¡±

    ¡°And nothing from it will surprise me.¡±

    ¡°I bet. And, really, he¡¯s your little brother?¡± Some disbelief surfaced in me.

    Shaotzi nodded. ¡°About a minute younger than me. To this day he¡¯s still annoyed by it.¡±

    ¡°Oh, like born together? Or some¡­weird¡­alien¡­baby thing?¡± The hand gestures I made were taking it a much worse turn and I should¡¯ve stopped.

    ¡°You¡¯re species are mammalian, right?¡±

    ¡°Yyyyyes.¡± I rested my hands.

    ¡°Same with us. Jaruka and I are twins so that¡¯s why.¡±

    ¡°Oooooh, fraternal twins,¡± I figured out. She nodded. ¡°That explains some similarities, except for that long dreadlock of yours.¡± A log cracked in the firepit, sending lit ash in the air before it burned itself out.

    ¡°First time meeting a twin?¡±

    ¡°Twins are rare. The Gordon brothers across the valley are the only twins I know. And who¡¯s the one inside? Is she related or from the government?¡±

    ¡°Her? Neither. Amber is from Nova. That Vyrokan¡¯s got baggage with Jaruka.¡±

    ¡°Like physical stuff or¡­¡±

    ¡°Emotional baggage.¡±

    I wanted to think about it, but Shaotzi said, ¡°Don¡¯t. You¡¯ll see when you speak with her.¡±

    ¡°Right. I will. So why didn¡¯t Jaruka mention you, or family, or anybody than Brill?¡±

    Shaotzi gave a short nod and said, ¡°Trust issues.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry?¡±

    ¡°See, my family has had turbulent relations with my people for a long time. It wasn¡¯t like that, what father said. We¡¯ve been fortunate to be protected by separatists and sanctuary laws.¡±

    ¡°So¡­ royalty?¡±

    ¡°Halcunac monarchs are no more,¡± she said. ¡°Strong laws of the world. Hard to explain for outsiders.¡±

    Ouch.

    ¡°But is it we can¡¯t know anything because my family and Scott aren¡¯t trustworthy? Because it¡¯s more like talking to a brick wall when any of us ask him questions.¡±

    ¡°To Jaruka, yes.¡±

    I felt a ting in the back of my neck. ¡°Do you trust us?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re farmers. Trust is already earned once you share your results tomorrow.¡±

    ¡°So a full wine tasting. We can do that.¡± I smiled. ¡°So where does that leave you? What do you do?¡±

    Shaotzi said, ¡°I¡¯m the family caretaker. What¡¯s left of it.¡±

    ¡°Ah. It stresses you out that Jaruka¡¯s here and not with you protecting the family?¡± I asked. So many questions out of my mouth I couldn¡¯t stop.

    She shook her head. ¡°Him being here is safer than in space. Or on Viro.¡±

    Tensions between family and the rest of his species? Are they at each other¡¯s throats or something?

    ¡°Confused?¡± She asked.

    I nodded and said, ¡°A bit. So why do your people, I assume, hate Jaruka so much?¡±

    ¡°One step at a time, Mr. Walsh. It¡¯s hard for me to explain it. Feelings, but also repeating the story is exhausting. Nowhere near the mood to say it. You will know eventually.¡±

    I sighed. So much for that. ¡°Sorry. Got another question. Nothing about the past. What¡¯s with that dreadlock... or skindread? Is that just for the women?¡± I pointed at her long dreadlock on her lap.

    ¡°No. Every halcunac has an honor dread.¡±

    ¡°Honor dread?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s our conduit for our power.¡±

    I noticed my head tilt to the side.

    Shaotzi¡¯s eyes closed a little. ¡°Jaruka never told you?¡±

    I shrugged.

    She signed and said, ¡°Best that I show you.¡± She then outstretched her right hand over the lawn by two feet. Her left hand rested on her honor dread. Nothing happened for several seconds until the dreadlock and her open hand glowed bright green.

    I held my breath.

    Shaotzi breathed slow, mouthed unrecognizable words. Her eyes were closed. Where her hand hovered, the ground began to glow in the shape of her four-fingered hand. Sounds of rocks scraping each other and low termers I heard came next. The end of her honor dread glowed brighter, and the center of the loop had a sphere of green light appear from nowhere. Its loop rose a little where it rested.

    She turned her hand upward and lifted it as if straining to lift a dumbbell.

    And the ground rose with it.

    A wide column of rock and dirt rose beside the lounge chair by two feet, crowned with a thick patch of sod. Rocks stuck out everywhere. The grass grew also as if on steroids, then weeds and dandelion flowers grew from it.

    Shaotzi opened her eyes and the glow from her hand and honor dread subsided and the sphere in the loop disappeared. She felt through the grass and weed leaves, then plucked one flower from it, sniffing it.

    ¡°This world is rich,¡± Shaotzi said, satisfied.

    I swallowed. My mouth was open the whole time. I blinked and shook my head. I glanced at the guards in the backyard and they had the same expression as mine, mind blown. ¡°Halcunas are magical!?¡±

    She set the flower down on the grass. ¡°I need to have a word with my brother on secrecy. Unless you have plans to exploit my power, there will be trouble.¡±

    ¡°No, no¡­ this is fucking wild! How did you do it? Can Jaruka do the same thing?¡± I had so many more questions in my head that I couldn¡¯t narrow down the good ones.

    ¡°Without the honor dread, it is impossible. He¡¯s no different than a human with a pocket lighter. Halcunacs have a deep connection with nature itself. Our bodies and souls are intertwined with it. We commune with it and the planet¡¯s sekdio to shape it, mold it, improve it. We have tribes with specialties that excel in their schools of discipline.¡±

    A popular kid¡¯s show came to mind I had the idea what she was talking about. ¡°Each tribe controls their own element? Are there four of them?¡±

    ¡°Several more,¡± she answered.

    ¡°Woah.¡±

    ¡°This power is what made the empire thrive for the Republic. We help bring life to dead and dying planets. Sometimes on worlds that had no life at all. Habitable worlds.¡±

    ¡°Jesus. You can terraform whole planets!¡±

    Shaotzi nodded. ¡°With the proper rituals and accompanying technology.¡± She paused before saying, ¡°That is¡­ until Jaruka was born. Things turned dire ever since. we have vague memories of the thriving empire.¡±

    ¡°What did he do?¡± I asked with grave concern.

    She glanced at me from her magic-made dirt mound and said. ¡°It¡¯s what he didn¡¯t do,¡± she said harshly. ¡°And that needs trust to explain.¡±

    ¡°So¡­ more dangerous than we assume.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s not,¡± she huffed. ¡°You know nothing of our past to assume anything.¡±

    I didn¡¯t rebuke. Her voice had serious weight to it.

    ¡°Trust my words, Mr. Walsh. Jaruka is not bad. Our family is good. It¡¯s everybody else that thinks wrongly,¡± she said. ¡°And I¡¯m tired.¡±

    ¡°But¡­¡±

    ¡°Goodnight, Mr. Walsh.¡± Her words were sharp to me, putting me in a bad position. I felt small in the lounge chair. If I pursued any father on this, she might use her magic on me. I stood up, managing to say, ¡°goodnight.¡± And walked back to the house.

    But stupid me, I turned around and said, ¡°I¡¯m sorry if I offended you.¡±

    Shaotzi swallowed before saying, ¡°Apology accepted.¡± She then turned off the translator on her neck and spoke in her language, I assumed a lot of curse words because I recognized crog in there. Her hand and honor dread glowed again and she pushed the dirt nightstand back into the ground as if it and the overgrown weeds never existed.

    Halcunas have magic. This¡¯ll blow Katie¡¯s mind in the morning, I thought.

 Chapter 7

    Walsh Estate Winery

    April 17, 2013

    7:14 AM

    Six.

    Six extraterrestrials have slept at the winery. A whole new level of trust. And for the most part, I slept well last night.

    The next morning, wide awake and showered, I was packing my backpack. I packed my pre-filled water bottle, wallet, phone, some granola bars and a sandwich for breakfast from the kitchen, a picnic blanket, and a collapsable baton. Enough stuff for half the day. With each movement I made, the literal heaviness in my chest was apparent.

    Last night I did more than prep a sandwich. I had to learn terran magic basics all over, then memorize one defense spell from Katie until my mana heart ran dry. Just the shield spell she mastered, but instead of a full translucent dome, I could only make one on my left arm the size of a road bike wheel, for a minute, until my mind drummed up bad memories. Doubt was still with me, but if it gave me a minute of protection, I¡¯ll take it.

    Keeji followed me out and down the staircase with my backpack on my shoulder. Katie, Amber, and Shaotzi were already awake and talking away in the living room.

    ¡°Morning, all,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯ll be back in a couple of hours.¡±

    I approached Katie and she accepted my hand on her shoulder. ¡°You got everything you need? Do you need one more practice round with the spell?¡± She asked.

    ¡°No. I¡¯m good. I don¡¯t want to interrupt what you three are talking about any longer.¡±

    Shaotzi stood behind the couch wearing the same clothes from yesterday, looking well-rested. Amber was partially on the couch, using it as a lean-to with her left legs folded under her. She was in the middle of coming her head hair and fur of flat spots from sleeping.

    ¡°Heading off somewhere? This early?¡± Amber asked.

    ¡°It¡¯s something I do every year. Personal stuff.¡± I wasn¡¯t in the mood to share what, where, and why. Katie felt it was right to give a summary.

    ¡°He¡¯s heading out to see his parents north of town,¡± she said.

    ¡°Oh, so you do have family,¡± Shaotzi said. ¡°Will we be able to meet them also?¡±

    ¡°Eh¡­ It¡¯s difficult to explain,¡± Katie interjected for me as I squeezed her shoulder a little.

    ¡°Really? Then you can explain once you get back?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll see,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯ll have Keeji with me too. I don¡¯t think Jonathan minds I¡¯ll borrow the sedan?¡±

    Katie considered and said over us. ¡°Hey Dad, can Scott take the Sedan for the morning?¡±

    ¡°Sure thing,¡± Jonathan said from within the kitchen. Earlier he was checking email hoping to hear back from the school district on Jacob¡¯s incident.

    ¡°Go right ahead. The keys are still on the rack. You¡¯ll be back in time before the flights?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. I think I have enough to share five months of stories. They¡¯ll enjoy every bit of it.¡± Katie shrugged, but a dark joke to start with. ¡°Later,¡± I said and gave a peck on Katie¡¯s forehead.

    ¡°Peace with your kin, Mr. Dunne,¡± Shaotzi said with a light head bow. Amber waved goodbye as well.

    I found and grabbed the sedan¡¯s keys from the key-holder beside the front door. Each hook and key was labeled to a door or machine of the winery.

    I closed the heavy door behind me. Keeji went ahead of me only to rub himself on the dew-covered front lawn. Great, so much for a clean seat.

    The valley was partially covered in marine layer fog from the coast and the air had a slight saltiness to it. The morning would¡¯ve been peaceful if I didn¡¯t notice Deryl¡¯s men still patrolling the land. I nodded and said morning to John Mertz, the more recognizable agent from memory. Nice guy, but he tends to be uptight on all things tabletop games.

    Then I stopped just past the front lawn. A familiar engine roared in the distance. ¡°Now what?¡± I signed and turned to the gates. Mertz spoke into his jacket sleeve and three other agents jumped to attention.

    The Howler Cycle rolled up to the winery parking lot. Jaruka was careful with his driving. He had Domoja riding behind him, gripping tight to Jaruka¡¯s toro with his cane tucked under his wing. Jaruka also had a trailer attached to the bike, levitating a couple feet above the driveway carrying several silver crates I haven¡¯t seen before. The guards watched them approach with sharp eyes.

    ¡°What is all this?¡± I asked after sighing.

    ¡°The beginning of everything, my friend,¡± Domoja said. The bat alien jumped off the bike and walked up with a spring in his step and the cane pinging against the driveway. ¡°In all my years with fringe magic practices, I¡¯ve never felt this excited.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°This, my friend. Your body. The transformations. The crystals. Vast amounts of untapped knowledge all locked in your mutated cells. The future scholarly work will bring the DEM into a rabid frenzy!¡± Domoja let out a full-belly laugh. ¡°Oh, today will be glorious.¡±

    Without warning, Domoja took my right hand and shook it. ¡°Young man, this is history-making,¡± he said and released my hand. ¡°Say. Is Diremoon near here? There¡¯s so much I need her to prep for.¡±

    ¡°Prep for what?¡±

    ¡°Can¡¯t explain right now. Where is she?¡± His smile reached from each bottom of his ears. He was still dressed the same as yesterday and I happened to get a whiff of an unfamiliar stench from him.

    ¡°She¡¯s in the house with Katie and his sister,¡± I said and pointed at the house.

    ¡°Marvelous. No need to guide me, I¡¯ll figure it out on my own,¡± Domoja said, then walked off while humming a song.

    Looking back at Jaruka, he was off his motorcycle, propped against it as he leaned forward with hands on his knees. ¡°Is he high or something?¡± I asked him. ¡°And don¡¯t tell me you¡¯re drunk again.¡±

    Jaruka looked up, glaring at me, with the largest bags and darker skin around his eyes. The rest of his body had a slightly brighter green hue from yesterday, yet his skindreads were still an overgrown mess.

    ¡°For crogen sake, we¡¯ve been up all night.¡±

    ¡°Doing what?¡±

    Jaruka stood up taking a breath. ¡°Comparing notes. I showed him the wall and your spellbook and he went off the rails learning and digesting everything. Crogen¡¯ forgot how insane he gets with something new.¡±

    ¡°The Charlie Cox conspiracy wall?¡±

    ¡°Stop calling it that.¡±

    ¡°What else is there to describe it?¡±

    Jaruka huffed at me. ¡°I need to sleep.¡±

    ¡°Mind telling me what¡¯s in those crates before you pass out?¡±

    Jaruka looked at the trailer for a second then whipped back to me. ¡°Lab equipment.¡±

    I slipped my backpack off my shoulder, opened the driver''s side door, and set it on the passenger seat. ¡°For what?¡±

    ¡°The professor wants to run a full parade of tests on you two. Go deeper into these transformations. Blood, hair, skin, magic demos, whatever he needs.¡±

    ¡°The bat is gonna probe us?¡± I instantly felt tense from the thought.

    Jaruka shook his head and said, ¡°What¡¯s up with you humans and probing? You got a deep-seated kink for it?¡±

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

    ¡°Look I¡­¡± I restrained from even explaining that. I don¡¯t know either. ¡°Do you trust him?¡±

    ¡°Have I ever brought anybody I didn¡¯t trust?¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°Then trust Domoja. He¡¯s good at what he does.¡±

    ¡°Whatever. I¡¯ll deal with that when I get back?¡±

    Jaruka slapped himself and shook his head to keep from falling asleep on his feet. He blinked a few times and said, ¡°Going somewhere?¡±

    ¡°If he wants to do it or whatever he¡¯s planning now, he¡¯ll have to wait for me.¡± I got into the car as I didn¡¯t want to waste any more time with him. ¡°I¡¯ll be back in a few hours.¡±

    ¡°Where are you going exactly?¡± Jaruka asked. I opened the passenger door to let Keeji inside, then close the door.

    ¡°Nowhere you need to know,¡± I said. I slammed the door, started the car, backed out, and drove off.

    It wasn¡¯t his business to pry into my personal life and no reason to explain it to him. Time was being lost with him. Even if I told him he¡¯d be suspicious or tease me.

    Relief set over me once I was on the main road toward the highway.

    <hr>

    Walsh Estate Winery Store

    8:00 AM

    Mom asked me yesterday to manage the store despite being Katie¡¯s turn. Why argue against that? Three days in my element can clear the rest of the jet lag. It¡¯ll keep me from obsessing over the clips.

    The large mug of coffee made things better.

    As I was sweeping the store¡¯s floor, I heard Dad¡¯s car start up. I had to check it out through the window by the cashier''s bar.

    Scott was behind the wheel with his totem sitting up in the passenger seat. I was aware of Jaruka coming, that space motorcycle, and its unique sound. Nothing was made out of what they were saying before Scott drove off.

    Where¡¯s Scott going now?

    Jaruka looked groggy and sluggish. A bad case of insomnia or too much alcohol, I thought. He went around his motorcycle and a beach chair folded out from the rear pannier, and then he flopped onto it like a sack of coffee beans, out cold within seconds. Most of his overgrown dreadlocks covered his face.

    ¡°Lazy jackass,¡± I said, then continued on with the cleaning.

    The store was the second oldest addition to the property, followed by the winery warehouse and the cellar, and then the main family house. Grandpa built it first as he and Grandma lived in a secondhand trailer selling oranges in the earlier years. It was his dream to make wine. Everything he built was by his hands, new materials at the time or bought from antique stores, junk yards, and craftsmen by Grandma into this bohemian esthetic. Classy, stylish, but deep with character, including the floorboards that creek every time someone steps on them. The warehouse has the most modern upgrades, but the store and the wine-tasting bar stayed the same, except for the cash register.

    I wiped down and organized the cashier bar, a long counter with embedded shelves of wine accessories, and winery merchandise like our t-shirts and etched wine glasses. Two large windows on either wall behind the counter faced the front parking lot and event patio, the curtains pulled back to let in the morning sunlight. The store was fifty feet long and twenty feet wide with each wall having its own purpose. Right of the cashier bar was the tasting bar with twenty bar stools, the star spot to sample wine with food pairings with customers, wine enthusiasts, and locals that made the bar a weekly routine. Used to, I mean. Behind it had photographs dating back to Grandpa building the property and planting the first row of grapevines on the southern hill.

    The wall beside the hall leading to the warehouse and far from any sun rays displayed our wine¡ªdubbed The Wine Wall¡ªbottles stacked on their sides in reclaimed wood cubbies. Each cubby had a wooden etched plank of the wine¡¯s name and description. No wine scores here.

    I finished the dusting and stocked the wall. Our Cliffhanger Port is our top seller, others had minimal sales. The Victoria Ros¨¦ never sells out except for Valentine¡¯s Day.

    The two other walls had artisan foods, displayed on a table or in a mini fridge, and a mix of local artisan crafts, commercial items, history books including our own autobiography by a local historian, and the heavy oak front door of the store.

    Once done with the cleaning, I walked to the warehouse to inspect the future product.

    The fermentation tanks were empty, clean, and sterile, ready for the fall harvest. Some wine is bottle-ready, but everything else is in wine barrels in the cellar underneath the warehouse Grandpa dug by hand or stacked in the far corner five to six oak barrels high.

    I entered the cellar via the ramp by the bottling machine. The cellar had the right temperature and humidity for aging the reds and whites. How long they age depends on the grape and what wine to produce. There were two barrels on the checklist Dad and me were closely checking for a while, a limited release from excess grapes from nearby wineries. I used a thief to extract the partially aged cabernet into my sampling glass, checked the must, the deep red color, then took a small taste. The grapes dominant black cheery flavor hit my tongue, then a finish of smoked oak from the barrel. I figured three or four months until it¡¯s ready for blending and bottling. Unless the master vintner, my dad, says otherwise.

    I made some notes on the clipboard in Dad¡¯s office, hanging beside the door, then went back to the store.

    The heavy door creaked open and I heard Katie talking. That must be the welcoming party, I thought. I cleared my throat and stood by the tasting bar as she walked in.

    Katie was in her dark purple polo t-shirt and tan khakis, the winery attire. Her tail stuck out under the beltline of the altered pants. She had a handmade leather shoulder pad on her right shoulder, strapped across her chest and synched tight, letting Arana perch on top like those falconers from Renaissance Faire.

    ¡°And here we have our main store and tasting room,¡± she said. ¡°Back then this was the only building on the estate for years until Grandpa built the warehouse and the family home.¡±

    ¡°And why is it called the warehouse?¡± An unfamiliar voice from outside said.

    ¡°It had the farm equipment stored alongside the wine crusher, but then it all got their own garage a few years away. The name stuck.¡± She turned inward and noticed me. ¡°Come inside. Meet my big brother, Robert. He¡¯s the assistant winemaker of the family.¡±

    Shaotzi walked inside first. She wore the same clothes from yesterday, yet looked well rested. ¡°Morning Robert,¡± she said.

    ¡°Morning. So me bugging you last night wasn¡¯t an issue?¡±

    ¡°None at all.¡±

    Arana tilted her bird head. ¡°You met her?¡±

    ¡°I couldn¡¯t sleep last night so we talked a bit.¡±

    The second alien, I assumed Amber, walked in next. She was wearing a dark green shirt and what I believed were cargo pants in patches across her lower centaur half. She was straightening her hair before she said, ¡°Hi there. Amber Diremoon.¡± I shook her outstretched paw. Her grip was strong and I felt a claw touch my skin. ¡°Nice to meet the rest of her family. And an assistant too?¡±

    ¡°Going on ten years,¡± I joked. Katie groaned.

    ¡°So besides my brother trying to be funny,¡± Katie said which garnered a laugh from Amber, ¡°let¡¯s head on through so I can show your our main patio. Robert, can you set up three flights for them once the tour is done?¡±

    ¡°And besides Katie being a buzzkill, I shall. Wait, you said three? Who¡¯s the fourth?¡±

    ¡°In the back, good sir,¡± said a voice behind Shaotzi. She stepped aside and I swear I almost screamed.

    I¡¯ve seen several species now, including Xi¡¯Tra and her bodyguards when they visit, but I didn¡¯t expect one that unsettled me. Bats unsettle me. One time we found one in the warehouse rafters when I was little and it flew at me after I shined a light on it. A tiny one, yet big to me back then. Had to get a rabies shot, despite not getting bit or scratched. I¡¯m good now, but anytime I see a real bat I get anxious.

    I said I almost screamed at the alien, but the slick clothes and mystical-looking cane made me believe otherwise.

    ¡°Who, Nelly,¡± I managed, trying my best to not be offensive.

    Katie smirked a little. Of course, she planned it.

    ¡°Forgive me, I must¡¯ve disturbed him, Katie,¡± he said.

    ¡°Oh no, not at all,¡± Katie said, drawing out the last word.

    ¡°Ah, good. Domoja Balcusten, sir. I already heard your name earlier, Mr, Robert Walsh.¡± The bat alien offered his hand, but more like three claws above a tucked wing resembling an arm.

    I swallowed and shook it. ¡°Me as well,¡± I said with clenched teeth.

    ¡°Now I assume the tour and this ¡®flight¡¯ will be the end of the tour? We must get on with the examinations right away,¡± Domoja said.

    ¡°What examinations?¡± I looked at Katie and Arana for guidance.

    ¡°It¡¯s my series of biological and metaphysical scans and tests on all this your planet is plagued with. Just a bunch of non-evasive tests for her and Scott. Nothing too personal I hope. Jaruka filled in a portion of it from his notes, but I and my department require more than paper and ink scribbles.¡±

    ¡°You okay with this?¡± I asked my little sister.

    ¡°I¡¯m all for it. Wouldn¡¯t hurt to know more about what was done. I mean face it, have any news station or show mentioned any scientific discovery with magic?¡±

    I nodded. ¡°Good point. What about Scott?¡±

    ¡°Oh, I¡¯m sure he¡¯ll be on board once he gets back from his parents.¡± Katie turned back to the group. ¡°Now if you follow me we¡¯ll head to the patio and then a tour of the warehouse,¡± she said with a grin.

    She led them through the second door leading to the balcony at the far end of the tasting bar.

    As I was selecting the three wines and setting up fifteen glasses on wooden trays marked with the wine featured, I had a brain fart. The kind that causes dismay to rise up inside your chest.

    ¡°Wait? His parents?¡±

    I set the Cliffhanger Port down and walked outside. Katie was in the middle of explaining the decor Grandma chose, down to the excessive use of mason jaws on the overhead lights and the ends of the vine rows.

    ¡°Hold on, wait. Where did Scott go again?¡± I asked.

    Katie stopped mid-sentence. ¡°You forgot again?¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t. You phrasing it threw me off. I thought he was gonna skip it with everything happening?¡±

    ¡°Well, he had to do it. I tried talking him out of it but he wouldn¡¯t let it go.¡±

    The aliens, especially Shaotzi, grew interested in the talk. ¡°Is this a ritual Scott must do?¡± She asked.

    Katie sighed and said, ¡°Scott goes to the cemetery by the air base to visit his parent¡¯s graves on their birthdays and holidays. It¡¯s something I don¡¯t want to explain right now.¡±

    Amber made a cringy sound. ¡°That personal stuff.¡±

    Domoja didn¡¯t join in, just observed and stroked his chin.

    ¡°What if he''ll get attacked up there?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it,¡± Katie said. ¡°He has a full mana heart, Keeji is with him, and he memorized the shield spell with my help. What idiot maniac would hurt him at a veteran cemetery?¡±

    There. Full mana heart. When Katie said that, I instantly thought back to Tabitha, her assuring her mana heart was full before the hunt. Me being cocky for evidence. It was obvious none of them heard of what happened. I haven¡¯t told them, and certainly, the media is still silent. What would they say if I tell my story and they get fixated on Tabitha¡¯s condition then a Frankenstein specter traumatizing my team? Do the aliens believe in ghosts? Too much speculation to swallow.

    ¡°What¡¯s the matter, sir?¡± Domoja asked.

    ¡°Nothing,¡± I said. ¡°Just¡­ had to know where Scott was going. That¡¯s all.¡±

    Katie sighed. ¡°Then can I finish the tour?¡±

    ¡°Oh yeah, yeah. Carry on. The flights are almost done.¡±

    Katie nodded and continued talking, but I noticed Arana staring at me. Deep. With a slight tilt of her hawk head.

    I scurried back inside and pulled out my phone to find Scott¡¯s number. It kept ringing until his voicemail message popped up.

    ¡°Dammit,¡± I whispered and dialed again. Same response.

    Third dial and no answer. Defeated I left him a message for three things: Get back home, don¡¯t cast any spells, and whatever he does, don¡¯t get spooked.

 Chapter 8

    Riverside National Cemetery

    Riverside, California

    8:30 AM

    I took one long breath and exhaled as I drove past the cemetery¡¯s gates. My right hand kept scratching Keeji¡¯s back tattoo. For luck¡¯s sake at least.

    The drive was the same but my anxiety was high. I kept looking everywhere for anything, or anyone. A crazed nut job attacking terrans. An unchecked cop. A rogue tumbleweed or tire on the highway. Every crazy scenario raced through my head, almost exhausting and distracting me.

    But nothing happened. Just a typical morning with the usual traffic.

    Some routines couldn¡¯t be ignored. I stopped earlier at a florist nearby to buy some flowers. The seller was cautious of me the moment she saw my ears and tail. What¡¯s worse was she knew me for years, and now, I was more or less dead to her. No matter how good-mannered I was, she wanted me gone.

    The cemetery was almost empty. A familiar guard, Mark Stenson, was by the gate. I sent him a nod and a short wave. I got a nod back. I didn¡¯t want to wonder if he had the same disposition as the florist. Just be the same person as before, I told myself.

    Just past the POW/MIA memorial, unmovable Wave crystals were still on and in the ground, three bus-sized ones. Two laid on their sides blocking grave sites, one stabbed through the ground by the visitor center like a frozen purple explosion. Everything else was as clean as the last time I visited. No open or disgraced graves.

    I turned a few corners and parked at my usual spot under the oak tree by the second lake. I turned the car off. I sighed again as if I held my breath passing Mark.

    ¡°You know, we can go out for tacos instead,¡± Keeji joked. I didn¡¯t respond. ¡°Worth a shot,¡± he mumbled.

    I got out, let Keeji out from the passenger side, and then grabbed the two bundles of flowers and my backpack. The car was locked tight.

    As I walked, I started walking on an imaginary path across the grass toward the family parcels. The lawn was clean-cut and deep green. Within three steps, a sickening weight suddenly formed in my stomach, turning into a deep anxiety-filled divot.

    I leaned on the oak tree to take a few breaths to calm down.

    ¡°You sure you don¡¯t want tacos?¡± Keeji joked again.

    ¡°Not now,¡± I told him between breaths.

    I knew how worrisome he was, trying to deviate me from facing the plots. He was at it ever since I got on the highway. Can¡¯t be ignored when a piece of your gut feeling in the real world is pestering you. My totem leaned on my leg, and in some manner, I gave him some neck scratches.

    I looked back at the gravesites. That weight in my stomach was still there.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± I whispered.

    Bum¡­¡­Dumm.

    My ribcage contracted a little. That feeling was still new to me after being off for months. It happened several times since I left the winery. Making fresh mana for magic. A weighted reminder of what I am now.

    I collected myself before carrying on with my walk.

    The family gravesites are a tight group amongst others. Each grave has five coffins in the ground stacked on top of each other. Just two plots housing the family on this side of the country. Most of my Dad¡¯s family, a huge military family, are buried in Virginia, dating back to my Ireland ancestors when the colonies were established. The rest immigrated before the great potato famine happened. Most of them served in battles and wars in all branches, while a small lot of them were regular citizens; business owners, and public servants. The Dunne family served, lived, and died for this country. On Mom¡¯s side of the family, they immigrated from Scotland to New York when Ellis Island was at its peak. Just a regular family, with no ties with fighting, even scoffed at the drafts, until Mom decided to join the Air Force, and met Dad while serving.

    Now it¡¯s just me. I never joined a branch or got drafted. A man with a lot of history in my blood and the only one that broke mentally before I served. Once that happens, it¡¯s an immediate disqualification.

    Try asking anyone still on active duty that never heard of my family¡¯s reputation. To this day, not a day goes by when one that knew my parents or older ones decide to call me up for a talk or be invited to their homes, on rare occasions, visit local bases.

    The gravesites faced the lake. Their recessed gravestones in the grass were etched with their names. I let out my breath I realized I was holding.

    I make this trip every Thanksgiving, Christmas, and Mom and Dad¡¯s birthdays. And with each trip, I go alone. I once brought Katie with me on Mom¡¯s birthday, but seeing me talking for hours at the gravesites kind of put her off. And it was grape harvest season.

    I faced the gravestones. The first had my parents. Harold Dunne. Vanessa McTavy Dunne. Grandpa Jack, Dad¡¯s younger brother and former U.S. Marine, was below them. The two other people I knew nothing about. The next plot over had Uncle Terry at the top of the stack. Uncle Terry worked in the aerospace industry all his life in Tacoma until a massive heart attack took him at age 63, a few years before my mind went to shit. I remember when I got sane, my parent''s will state the cemetery had to move my uncle¡¯s coffins closer to them. Family sticking together.

    ¡°Morning,¡± I said. ¡°Happy birthday, Dad. And late Christmas. I know I look¡­ weird. And I have a dog now.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m a dog?¡± Keeji asked.

    I eyed Keeji. ¡°But I can explain. And uh¡­ hold your britches, Uncle Terry. You¡¯ll need to hear this.¡±

    I sat down on the cool grass and explained everything the last time I spoke to them.

    Nothing was held back from what happened from the Big Bear apartment to last night. Why hide the existence of aliens and magic when they¡¯re dead? I joked about how it took a magical force to finally lose the weight I gained. Terry was big in sci-fi so I was certain he¡¯d get a kick out of them. Explaining our time with Jaruka, Area 51, and onboard an alien battleship was hard for me, thinking about how would they react and how hard it was to describe every alien species I saw. Both parents were skeptical of UFOs, even the alien movies I grew up watching. I¡¯m certain Mom and Dad would clock Jaruka out the moment they meet. Explaining the magic part was also difficult.

    This went on for an hour.

    ¡°And just yesterday, Jaruka¡¯s friends arrived,¡± I said finishing my sandwich. ¡°He¡¯s got a new ship too. Just parading his alien-ness, something, to everybody. Me and Kate and her parents can¡¯t do much about it and I don¡¯t know if his friends or his sister we never heard about can help him. Just¡­¡± I grunted. ¡°Thinking about it pisses me off. It¡¯s all bullshit.¡±

    Words came out of my mouth easier by then. It felt freeing.

    Keeji, as I ranted on, got bored within five minutes and just plopped onto the grass to sleep and sunbathe. For being part of my mind, his laziness is on point.

    ¡°Oh, get this,¡± I continued, ¡°the bat alien expects to experiment on both of us. Figure out how this transformation works. Can you believe that? Clich¨¦ up the wall!¡±

    I drank from my water bottle before saying, ¡°I get it, Uncle Terry. You¡¯d love to punch him to Yosemite.¡± It was his catchphrase when he was alive. Also protective. He was a wildcard in the family. He never enlisted due to his temper and permanent record from grade school. No one had seen him punch anybody, always with verbal threats when not working on airplanes.

    I stood up from the grass and a huge indent of my ass and legs was visible. ¡°Like just¡­ so much shit going on,. I don¡¯t know if we have to do something or not. We can¡¯t control Jaruka in or out of the winery, the neighbors hate us, Katie is somehow a Twitter meme, and I swear, Jonathan has more grey hairs on his head than a couple of weeks ago.¡± I took another drink of water. ¡°Oh, and the winery is probably bankrupt. Brenda ain¡¯t saying it but I can tell just by looking at her.¡±

    I noticed more visitors arriving as the minutes ticked. Just saying their respects, but quickly leaving once they saw me and dumdum beside me.

    ¡°What am I supposed to do?¡± I said to the gravesites. ¡°Dad, if you were here, you¡¯d have an answer. You always did.¡±

    A headache formed, frustrated from it all, from the loneliness, the craziness I expressed, being a freak of the cemetery.

    I tensed my forearms, say that Gaelic word, and lit my arms up. Every tattoo smoked with energy. It felt right to show them the real result of my change.

    ¡°How can I continue living my life with this?¡± I asked showing the gravestones my arms. ¡°To all of you, I¡¯m a living weapon. Soon everybody will. I hate it¡­ just¡­¡± Tears started forming.

    Bum¡­¡­Dumm.

    My chest contracted, but harder, catching me off guard. I grunted and almost fell backward from the force.

    Keeji woke up, looking concerned for me. ¡°You okay?¡±

    I shook the dizziness from my head. ¡°I¡¯m good, I¡¯m good¡­ that was¡­ Ah hell!¡±

    Bum¡­¡­Dumm.

    Bum¡­¡­Dumm.

    ¡°Shit. What the hell!?¡± I exclaimed.

    Each contraction in my chest got stronger with each beat from my mana heart. I could feel energy pushing in and out of my spine and arms. Back and forth, back and forth. The headache got stronger with each flow.

    Then I noticed my hands moving on their own. Once I could, but next I couldn¡¯t, jerking at the joints, then the whole hands and upper arms. Twisting and contorting in unnatural shapes. I tried to take control but there was nothing I could do. There was no pain, only numb discomfort.

    Then both arms shot straight to my sides. Both of my hands went from acting spindly and grabby, to spread out with palms facing the ground. Both were locked in place. Uncomfortable memories from the time I was chained to the truck heading to Area 51. I screamed for help but no one was coming to me. Keeji started barking at me.

    ¡°Quit it, buddy,¡± he said. ¡°BARK. You¡¯re creeping me out!¡±

    ¡°For God''s sake help me!¡± I yelled me.

    Bum¡­¡­Dumm.

    Bum¡­¡­Dumm.

    Bum¡­¡­Dumm.

    I screamed once more. My mana heart beat fast, and all at once, a vice-like grip squeezed it in the whitest of pain I ever felt.

    Every drop of charged mana erupted from my hands. Feeling my mana heart empty itself was the weirdest feeling to date. I screamed as it happened as the burning feeling overcame my hands.

    I watched as the energy radiated throughout the grounds as far out as the second lake and the graveyard¡¯s edge. The embedded wave crystals nearby gained some of it. Once I felt empty, my arms relaxed so that my control came back, and my whole body collapsed to the grass, breathing heavily. The tattoos disappeared, but I still felt my muscles burning from whatever the hell that was. And that headache matched the same pulse as my actual heart.

    ¡°What. The hell. Was that?¡± Keeji asked.

    ¡°Fuck if I know,¡± I said. I rolled onto all fours. ¡°Some help you are.¡±

    I got back on my feet and checked my arms. There were no burn marks, remnants of the tattoos, or any pain. I checked the ground and found no singed grass between my family¡¯s plots. Charged mana, from what Katie said, sometimes left burn marks depending on the spell. Except I cast no spell. Mana was forced out of my hands.

    Then I heard a humming sound. The hairs behind my neck and arms stood up. That humming was unmistakable. I haven¡¯t heard that since The Wave happened.

    I turned to the nearest wave crystal, the one by the visitor center, and it had a slight, pulsing glow within it in the morning light. It didn¡¯t get brighter, just a consistent, slow pulse. Unnerving sense came from it. I thought back while the drain happened and I couldn¡¯t remember anything. Imagination fuels the spell, making it what the caster wants it. So what did ¡°nothing¡± translate into?

    Then ripples of sparkling white light radiated from the crystal and outward over the ground. At least six more ripples passed under us, making everything sparkle.

    ¡°Woah. Did you learn a new spell without telling me?¡± Keeji asked. I didn¡¯t answer. I was too scared wondering what would happen.

    ¡°Come on, at least-¡° Keeji then barked without warning.

    ¡°Seriously? There are no squirrels around here.¡±

    As I looked back, all of Keeji¡¯s teeth showed and his back sur stood on end. He kept on barking and I told him to stop to not draw any more attention. Then I looked where he was intimidating and I almost pissed myself.

    A shimmering white mass rose from a grave across from my family¡¯s. The blob was milky translucent with an amoeba-like movement if you saw one under a microscope. A limb, I believed, separated from the ¡°body¡± and that stuff inside that limb turned opaque in seconds, then solid white. Like a Star Trek teleporter in slow motion, it formed finger bones, the palm, wrist bones, and forearm, then muscle over bone, then skin over muscle, then a sleeve of a blue suit jacket. A face formed at the top of the mass from the nose outward, revealing a man I did not know with glowing white eyes. From the nose up looked normal, but the bottom half of the jaw was disjointed and hung from patches of muscle just barely staying together. He reached toward me. He tried speaking as he floated toward me.

    A lot more masses, rising from every gravesite I could see, had varied similarities to the first. One was just a pair of legs and hips wearing black slacks. Another was a torso with a neck and arms, crawling toward me and kept sucking in air through exposed vocal cords and deformed lungs riddled with bullet holes.

    A few of them were fighting each other, stealing each other''s shimmering mass and materialized body parts. One had his leg removed and the thief attached it to his exposed hip socket. And a large amount of mass three rows down was transferred from a small amoeba to become a woman¡¯s fully formed brain. No skull.

    Keeji growled and said, ¡°Get away from my buddy!¡± and lunged at the closest mass. It had fully formed legs in jeans but the rest was a walking skeleton with a beating heart. Keeji phased right through it. The abomination was unaffected, oblivious of my totem, and it kept limping toward me in a pleading gesture. Keeji flopped on the grass and whimpered in fear.

    ¡°Fuck this,¡± I said and grabbed my backpack. ¡°Keeji, forget it. Get to the car!¡±

    We ran over the gravesites, jumping over partially formed. I avoided colliding with two that merged together, a guy wedged through another guy¡¯s chest by the head. Too many cronenbergs to count, too scared to even care. I had to get out of there. My heart pounded against my chest. Then some started speaking to me once I got to the oak tree.

    I got to the car, opened my door, and Keeji sprinted inside, smacking his right side into the passenger side door. ¡°Get in, get in!¡± He screamed without an inkling of being injured.

    I got in, threw the backpack in the passenger seat, and slammed my door shut. My hands couldn¡¯t stop shaking and fumbling the car key from how scared I was, curing in between.

    Several of those things walked toward the car. Hands out toward me

    Keeji whined while saying ¡°Hurry up! Start the car or they¡¯ll start begging for brains!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m trying!¡±

    I jammed the car key in, turned it, and the car started right up. ¡°Ha ha! Success!¡± I said.

    A loud thud on the car¡¯s hood made us scream and look.

    One of those things plopped itself in front of the windshield. It was almost formed, just missing a left leg, and half of his skull was missing. His entire brain was exposed and his tongue lapped out of its open mouth. He turned his head to look at me in the eyes.

    God. That face. I haven¡¯t seen that face, or that tacky red Hawaiian shirt since sixth grade.

    He sucked in air and gargled, ¡°Fffight! Fight, nephew!¡± He coughed out teeth onto the car¡¯s hood. ¡°Fight for your life! Fight for her!¡±

    I put the car in gear and backed out. The spectral body rolled off the hood and splattered in a shimmering ooze over the driveway.

    I drove out of the cemetery, narrowly avoiding more cronenbergs, walking, limping, crawling, and one time sprinting toward me. Keeji was too shocked and hid in the passenger¡¯s legroom to cry. My heart kept on pounding and felt sweat build up on my skin and my grip on the wheel got clammy. Keeping my focus on driving was paramount. I had to keep myself from freaking out, or worse, having a panic attack while driving.

    After passing the cemetery gates, most of those chronenbergs were dissolving away.

    <hr>

    Walsh Estate Winery

    Temecula, California

    10:00 AM

    ¡°Full immunization in 5¡­4¡­3¡­2¡­,¡± Amber counted down from¡ªnot joking¡ªan antique-ish pocket watch from her vest. Her grin widened before saying, ¡°Drink away.¡±

    All three aliens sipped last year¡¯s Cliffhanger Port from their sample glasses. It was apparent during the whole tour they were looking forward to having some.

    Shaotzi took the lightest sip. Eyes closed. A smooth and delicate move from rim to mouth. She savored the dark red wine. She pulled the glass back, swallowed, letting air mix with the aftertaste, and said, ¡°Delightful. Complex and earthy. The fruit tone is quite nice.¡± Her saying that was like looking at Jaruka¡¯s nicer doppelg?nger.

    Domoja sat on a barstool as he sipped. He took a big sniff the second time, a second sip as well. His big ears fluttered and earrings clinked as he let out a low hum. ¡°My, my, my. What a creation,¡± he said. ¡°Agreed, Shaotzi, but the fruit is more apparent to me. The tartness and the smooth mouthfeel¡­ I can go for a fish plate right about now.¡±

    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

    Amber took one big sniff, a small sip, then guzzled the rest of the three-ounce sample. She let out a loud, satisfying gasp and said, ¡°Oh, man. Never tell the hanger crew about this winery, that¡¯s for sure.¡±

    ¡°Excuse me?¡± I asked.

    Amber set her glass down. ¡°I guess you met Wringheart?¡±

    ¡°A little. Maybe a minute.¡±

    ¡°Take note about her culture¡¯s practices because if this winery gets part of a jacker funeral, or when Nova has parties to let out steam this winery would be cleaned out by sunrise.¡± She licked her lips, maybe some remnants of wine left. ¡°Can I have another?¡±

    ¡°So¡­ a compliment?¡± I poured her another sample.

    ¡°Exactly.¡±

    A little chill traveled down my tail. Just thinking about how my parents or the town would take it was beyond me.

    The moment the tour ended and we all gathered at the tasting bar, the conversations went off without hesitation to the point I was enjoying their company. Robert and Domoja hit it off instantly talking going deep into the magic and soon corroborating over terran research, Robert sharing his little black notebook of his own notes to the professor. There were times I wanted to pick Domoja¡¯s brain, but what Amber and Shaotzi shared filled my curiosity about Jaruka¡¯s past the most.

    Also, Mom came over. I was stuck.

    Unfortunately, Shaotzi was still reserved about discussing her family, her culture, or her own planet. Robert did tell us what she said to him last night, and what she did. I was gobsmacked over the magic but lost about the sekido part that Shaotzi didn¡¯t divulge. Mom, well, she went on sharing embarrassing stories of her children when we were little. I stopped her before she talked about one water park vacation when I was little.

    Amber was more open.

    She was born on her home planet of Tannis. Her species were technologically advanced but had this steampunk and solarpunk mix esthetic in everything, from architecture to clothing and politics. Vyrokens were one of many species inventing and trading technology across the Republic, but they¡¯re unique with their connection with technology, physically wiring their brains up to traverse cyberspace, bare-bones electrical circuits, or crystal matrices. They call it ¡°jacking,¡± and jackers are highly valuable. So much so that there are bidding wars on freelancers.

    Amber is not a jacker for reasons I couldn¡¯t get her to talk about.

    ¡°After Mom and Dad disowned me after joining the Royal Navy,¡± Amber said, continuing on with her family, ¡°it felt like I was truly independent. Also broke down mentally like a chipped cog but got over it,¡± Amber said. ¡°Started out in the engineering division fixing fusion core blocks for space fighter ships, stayed on for four years, went solo, then Nova Company hired me. Think it took oh¡­ three weeks for the Navy to recognize my resignation but I was tail-deep repairing power conduits at Nova¡¯s HQ to realize I was missing.¡± A laugh left her.

    ¡°So you always wanted to be a spaceship mechanic?¡± Brenda asked.

    ¡°It¡¯s built in my bloodline. Except, well, the jacking part. Mom owned a repair shop. Great with building and repairing things, but that¡­ that personal connection, never got it. But, as long as there¡¯s work, I¡¯m happy.¡± Amber sipped from her wine glass, now onto the chardonnay.

    ¡°But how the hell did you hook up with Jaruka?¡± I asked her.

    Amber laughed a little. ¡°Oh, that basket case. Ran into him at HQ¡¯s crew bar. It was my first time there. I walked in and there was a barfight happening between him and Commander Kantra for some bad howler cycle bet Kantra lost. Jay rubbed it in his face. I got caught in it. Amongst the scuffle, and I lost all memory of it, I wound up in a detention cell with him for a night.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t tell me you got in the fight?¡± Mom asked.

    ¡°Nope. Kantra threw him at me by accident. Last I remember was I broke the commander¡¯s nose.¡±

    ¡°How long did you and Jaruka stay together?¡± I asked next.

    ¡°For a few years,¡± she said. ¡°Great years. He couldn¡¯t detach from me. Believe me, he¡¯s a sweet guy when he¡¯s not angry.¡±

    ¡°Must¡¯ve been a horrible breakup.¡±

    Amber sighed. ¡°You can say that. It was all his fault anyway.¡± She took another sip with a slight lip smack afterward. ¡°He threw a potential recruit out a window.¡±

    I choked a little. ¡°Holy shit.¡±

    Amber brushed off the comment. ¡°No, no, no, he lived thank goodness. The hotel¡¯s pool broke the guy¡¯s fall. Jaruka thought he was hitting on me and he still hasn¡¯t apologized about it.¡±

    ¡°Then why come back? And here really.¡±

    ¡°To punch the apology out of him,¡± Amber said. ¡°And to finally have a vacation.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t expect her to stay sober every time,¡± Shaotzi said.

    Amber scuffed and said, ¡°You know I can¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°Every vyroken does. You drank three glasses already.¡±

    ¡°Jackers do it. I¡¯m not a jacker. I have my limits. And it¡¯s not like I¡¯m in the same culture as Wringheart. I don¡¯t drink for the dead.¡±

    ¡°If she has a drinking problem, honey, we can¡¯t be liable,¡± Mom said, more toward me.

    Amber set her glass down. ¡°Trust me and my heart. With health and morals, getting drunk is not for me. You have my word, Mrs. Walsh.¡± She brought her hands together in a plea.

    ¡°Okay,¡± I said.

    ¡°Be glad you¡¯re not my step-sister,¡± Shaotzi commented into her glass, then sipped the rest of her wine sample.

    Robert oooed.

    Amber gave a sarcastic gasp, placing a hand over her chest. ¡°After all these years, you still think-¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    Amber tipped her head back and groaned. ¡°Oh well. I tried.¡± She popped a piece of bleu cheese in her mouth and quickly moaned at the taste. ¡°Oh, man, this is good.¡±

    Then a loud screech came from outside that Domoja coughed mid-sip. We all turned to look out the windows behind the cash counter. I was closer to them to see that my dad¡¯s car was back. The tire screech was enough to scare Jaruka out of his nap and topple out of the beach chair.

    ¡°Hold that thought, Amber,¡± I said and walked out. ¡°Need to check on Scott.¡±

    I left the shop through the main doors. Jaruka was still getting up from the driveway. The car was a few feet from the motorcycle. I caught Scott bolting out of the car and into the house. Keeji followed out, barking and whimpering profusely.

    ¡°Oh, Katie,¡± Keeji yelled noticing me. ¡°It¡¯s bad! Scott needs help! Oh man, it¡¯s bad.¡±

    I turned back to the shop as Mom was at the door. ¡°Take over for me!¡± I said and ran toward the house.

    I ran up the stairs and stopped at Scott¡¯s room¡¯s open door. Jacob, still not wanting to speak with the aliens, peaked his head out as I ran past him.

    Scott leaned over the bed with his hands on top of it, breathing hard and fast in that all too familiar way. ¡°Scott¡¯s what¡¯s happ¡ª¡±

    Scott collapsed to the floor. He started convulsing from head to toe and his eyes rolled back.

    ¡°Shit!¡± I turned to Jacob. ¡° Quick! Get the iced rag in the freezer!¡± Then I joined Scott on the floor, turned him onto his side, set a pillow under his head, and stayed there until his convulsions stopped.

    A mild panic attack, thank god. Nothing to sweep away and hope it¡¯ll get better. Scott¡¯s problems aren¡¯t just the visible scars on his body, it goes deeper, internally and mentally. This happens every time someone mentions his parents in an unkind or not mindful manner. One sentence could set it off. We¡¯ve got so far to not need medication to stop them. A chilled rag over his forehead works for him. His skin gets really hot during an episode. Then a long time for him to ease his breathing and to be aware of me comforting him.

    But this didn¡¯t involve his parents as I seen learned.

    I stayed with him for a couple hours I believe. We moved to his bed, facing each other. Eventually, with the shades closed and the bedroom dark, he shared what happened at the cemetery.

    ¡°I thi¡­I think I accidentally raised the dead.¡± Scott shared all he could remember with me and I laid there in shock of it. He had the third iced rag on his forehead, now lukewarm and moist. His whole body was still covered in sweat.

    ¡°That¡¯s ridiculous,¡± I said.

    ¡°It¡¯s true. I¡¯m serious.¡±

    He explained, again, what happened. I cooed him when I saw signs of him seizing again. Yet, I listened. His words were genuine and he¡¯s not the kind to hold secrets back from me.

    It¡¯s just that none of it made sense to me.

    ¡°Scott,¡± I said. ¡°I believe you. But I told you. I¡¯ve memorized my spellbook cover to cover. It doesn¡¯t mention anything about necromancy.¡±

    ¡°Or hidden?¡± Scott asked me.

    Especially the hidden keystone spells in plain sight.

    ¡°I know what I saw,¡± he said firmly. ¡°Uncle Terry was on the car¡¯s hood telling me to fight. Fight what?¡±

    I brought him closer to me in a hug. ¡°I don¡¯t know, Scott.¡± For the first time that I remember, I didn¡¯t know what to do.

    Someone knocked on the bedroom door and I said to come in. Robert opened it slowly.

    ¡°Is Scott good now?¡± He asked.

    ¡°He¡¯s getting there. I¡¯m skipping dinner if Mom asks.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, uh. I¡¯ll let her know.¡± He paused. ¡° We have another problem.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s happened?¡±

    Robert sighed with his hands on his hips. ¡°It¡¯s Martiz. Dad found him in the merlot fields screaming. A tattoo showed up several minutes ago.¡±

    <hr>

    Walsh Estate Winery

    7:06 PM

    Once the news got to the aliens, Domoja became ecstatic and went to work. This was his opportunity to gather real-time data of the transformation and it landed right on his lap. I had to be part of it. Martiz is like family to us.

    We chose the large lawn patch between the event patio and the house¡¯s backyard for Domoja¡¯s observation. It was large enough (I guessed) for the circle to appear and clear of any potential property damage. Grass can grow back.

    Domoja examined Martiz head to toe in private, with me making sure nothing weird happened. It was a normal physical exam, but Domoja had advanced scanners that went deep within Martiz¡¯s body. He asked him all sorts of medical questions. No language barrier was involved with his translator collar in the room so Martiz was gracious that someone understood him. Hair, blood, saliva, and skin flake samples were collected. Even tear samples for some reason. He was taking constant notes on his tablet computer and a personal voice recorder clipped to his collar throughout the examination.

    The tattoo on his right shoulder was examined with delicate care. Anything magical to him was seen as cautionary, for magic is unpredictable without careful observation. Check for traps, sort of speak. He was careful not to injure the tattoo. He must¡¯ve read about it moving at different parts of the body if it happened. Flashbacks of times I read about this guy stabbing his tattoo where it appeared next. Multiple stabbings. His body was a bloody Swiss cheese after it settled on his forehead. He ended his own life after his transformation. The worst part was conservative media mopping that up suggesting some demon possession was at work, while other outlets clearly stated his severe mental health prior. There have been many copycats doing the same thing for personal gain.

    Domoja spent a whole hour with Martiz. Then he and Amber got to work for the last few hours of Martiz¡¯s human self.

    Amber finished calibrating one of twenty posts surrounding Martiz in a twenty-foot wide circle each linked with black cables. ¡°Pylon scanner array¡± Amber called it. Each one was a black pole topped with three candlelight-shaped glass cones, changing between blue, purple, green, yellow, and back to blue and slowly rotating clockwise. The twentieth¡ªthe closest one to me¡ªhad a thicker cable running to a large black server box on a banquet table I pulled out from storage.

    Martiz sat on the grass within the circle. He wore an old tank top and sweatpants his wife brought him, old clothes he didn¡¯t mind losing. He hadn¡¯t spoken much since Domoja finished, still contemplating his life. His wife and son stood outside the circle with Mom and Dad in support.

    Shaotzi stood by. She did give a blessing to the family a while ago. She stayed silent as she watched us all.

    Back on the table, one shoebox-sized hard case, smaller than the server, housed Mariz¡¯s samples in cold storage. It had alien letters on a metal plate in Domoja¡¯s handwriting. Two more were yet to be filled.

    ¡°Matrix is set¡­ and it¡¯s live,¡± Amber said after receiving a confirmation sound from her tablet. ¡°The array is recording, Domoja.¡±

    ¡°Thank you,¡± Domoja said. He was setting up a high-tech camera on a tripod aimed at Martiz several feet outside the ring. ¡°You certain it takes six hours?¡± he asked me.

    ¡°Every single time,¡± I answered.

    ¡°Not over or under? Exactly six hours after the rune¡¯s emergence?¡±

    ¡°Why suspicious about it? It¡¯s always been like that.¡±

    Domoja shrugged and said, ¡°It¡¯s just unheard of. Spells with a chronometer-like behavior that consistently isn''t something that natural magic can repeat. There are always variations.¡±

    ¡°And what Jaruka gathered doesn¡¯t work for you?¡± I¡¯ve seen that college once visiting the camp. Once.

    ¡°His research is sound. Just¡­ I¡¯m just cautious,¡± Domoja said.

    ¡°Happen to read up about the Livingstons?¡± I asked him. They were transformed a while ago. Their daughter was first, but the parents were forced to change to save their lives from being zombies to a demon and not being an orphan for the rest of her life.

    Domoja flipped a switch on the camera. ¡°Indeed. Still a bit¡­ dubious about these keystone spells Jaruka found.¡±

    ¡°Dubious? It¡¯s like discovering a long-lost mob boss'' body. You say GMTs are engineered magically, then there have to be some hidden Easter eggs in it.¡±

    He looked up at me. ¡°Easter eggs?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll tell you later,¡± I said, waving my hand. ¡°Oh, yeah. If you need more notes, I have my notebook you can read through. Or copy.¡± I pulled out the small black notebook from my back pocket. ¡°Nothing personal in it. Just anything I came across since this whole thing started.¡±

    Any of my ghost-hunting notes were not in there. Not even Tabitha¡¯s. I have those locked away in a safe place.

    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s nice of you,¡± he said. ¡°You can hand it to me later.¡±

    ¡°Sure.¡± I pocketed my notebook away.

    ¡°Hand me that tool on the table for me, please. The one with the red stripe.¡±

    I checked the table. The curved tool with the red stripe along the handle sat outside the metal case the camera was housed in. I grabbed it and handed it to him. Three fingers wrapped around the flat tool. He used it to tighten the tripod¡¯s base and the three spikes in the ground. The transformation can make things windy sometimes.

    ¡°But is it possible?¡± I asked.

    ¡°About what?¡±

    ¡°The keystone spells. The spellbooks. Their totems. Is it all some sort of forced subliminal messaging?¡±

    ¡°Um¡­ maybe. I can¡¯t determine that without a mental evaluation. I need a second expert for that.¡±

    Domoja finished setting up the camera by checking his tablet. ¡°That¡¯ll do it. These legs will handle any potential wind gusts.¡±

    He walked back to the table and set the tool down.

    ¡°It¡¯s too bad I have to wait for the couple¡¯s examination, but that¡¯s okay,¡± he said.

    ¡°Scott will pull through.¡±

    ¡°Is this normal?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. Well, no. Not his whole life. Sometimes these episodes get bad.¡±

    ¡°I meant the ghosts. Scott and Katie never practiced necromancy?¡± He said necromancy with a standoffish tone.

    I assumed Domoja meant real raising-the-dead magic. For one, that told me that shit exists.

    I explained to Domoja and others earlier what Scott experienced after it took him a while to talk to me. Everything that Scott said was far different than Tabitha¡¯s. Was Scott¡¯s energy too weak, or too little of it in his heart, or why it didn¡¯t weaken or overwhelm him? And how come the ghosts struggled to exist?

    I kept those questions to myself.

    ¡°No,¡± I said. ¡°Never.¡±

    Domoja regarded my words. ¡°You seem troubled. Like you saw this before.¡±

    I nodded.

    ¡°Want to share?¡±

    ¡°Not right now.¡±

    Domoja checked a small device from his pants pocket, an actual pocket watch with alien symbols for telling time. ¡°We have time until he transforms if the countdown is exact. You can whisper to me.¡±

    My first thought was can I trust him? He¡¯s been friendly to me since the moment he met our family. And a former academy professor to Jaruka. A high trust level. My second thought was could he find the answers I need? Like the terrans. The magic. Is the mental stuff possibly hiding underneath the changes?

    But more so, is there anything to glean from the ghost¡¯s reasons to exist?

    So, I told him. Quietly.

    I had to be out of the other¡¯s view to whisper as Domoja leaned close to me. Shared the times when I heard the first stories and the ghost hunt in Louisiana. Every piece of detail. Even after taking Tabitha home. I wasn''t feeling relief after telling Domoja. Just sheer shame. But Domoja was quiet the whole way.

    I also shared my research, most from my mind. After Scott told me his story, I furiously searched the internet for an hour while Amber measured the array. Forums. Social media posts. Recent articles. Police scanner callouts.

    As expected, there was nearly nothing about it, except for one. I was lucky to find one video online of a visitor at the cemetery. He had one of those white blobs pacing along the POW/MIA memorial wall before it dissolved away. It lasted for a minute before the post was scrubbed from the internet and the original poster was banned for life.

    ¡°So,¡± I said after finishing what I said. ¡°What do you think?¡±

    He sat down in a chair beside mine.

    ¡°From what I understand,¡± Domoja started, ¡°death is taboo in your culture?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s complicated,¡± I said. Then I thought of the worst. What if someone is silencing Tabitha? Her family? Or the community she¡¯s part of? ¡°I feel roadblocked what to do.¡±

    Domoja rubbed the longer tuff of fur on his chin, contemplating what I shared. He tapped the top of his cane with his claws.

    ¡°Seems to me it¡¯s taboo to talk about the dead publicly,¡± he said. ¡°It¡¯s understandable to a degree. Then again, silencing this knowledge is suspicious.¡±

    ¡°No shit. I gotta ask. Are ghosts something to be scared of?¡±

    ¡°That depends on their nature.¡±

    ¡°How so?¡±

    Domoja leaned on his cane. His feet dangled an inch from the ground because of how short he was in the chair. ¡°For one, and if what you said matches, they¡¯re not remnants,¡± he said.

    I sat up a little higher. ¡°Remnants?¡±

    ¡°Remnants is a common term for spectral memories and emotions. These can be imprinted on objects and locations, like a home, an antique, or land with significant religious or spiritual significance. The list is endless. Certain crystals and minerals are capable of retaining remnants, and it can be by accident or on purpose.¡±

    *Like The Stanley Hotel and the limestone below it*, I thought.

    ¡°The second, and this is more important and what I believe what you and Scott experienced, is that wandering souls are forcing themselves to have corporeal existence.¡±

    ¡°Wandering souls?¡± I said with interest. ¡°Is that another name for ghosts?¡±

    ¡°Ghost is one name.¡± He shifted in his chair to face me. ¡°See, in simpler explanation, these are spirits shifting between realities. Never crossed over. Never settled. You can count the multiple ways they appear in this world¡ªnatural, spiritual, or artificial means¡ªand none of them are similar. A curse, unfinished business, an accidental death. I can¡¯t remember the last time not two cases were similar across different magic practices.¡±

    ¡°But if not ghosts, are ones manipulating objects in the real world poltergeists? Like the one from my hunt,¡± I asked.

    ¡°Maybe,¡± Domoja answered. ¡°There are wraiths. Specters. Benign spirits. Don¡¯t quote me how many.¡±

    ¡°So not a poltergeist.¡±

    Domoja shook his head. ¡°No ill intent from what I understand.

    I sat back in the chair. ¡°So for wandering souls to exist, they need energy, right?¡± I asked.

    Domoja nodded again. ¡°Correct. Energy can be from bioelectric impulses, artificial sources, or the surrounding power grid.¡± Domoja tapped his cane on the grass. It came out more as a thunk. ¡°Or what you said, from a terran¡¯s mana heart. That amount of power is enough to make them manifest, it seems. What Scott and¡­ what was the other¡¯s name again?¡±

    ¡°Tabitha,¡± I said, holding back myself from resisting.

    ¡°Right, Tabitha. She had no intent to summon them? And for Scott as well?¡±

    I flexed my hands after noticing how stiff they were. ¡°No. And I heard nothing from Tabitha. Am I in trouble?¡±

    What I expected from him was scorn. Maybe a non-magic user taking advantage of one. But alas, he didn¡¯t go that route. ¡°From my standpoint, with us around, authorities have other things to deal with than tangle with you, your family, and us off-worlders,¡± Domoja assured me.

    The doubt was still with me.

    ¡°But here¡¯s something I don¡¯t get,¡± I said. ¡°Why are all of them saying ¡®fight for your life¡¯?¡±

    Domoja said after thinking, ¡°They might know more than we know. They have access to a spectrum us living folk need serious concentration to access. Perhaps they¡­¡±

    An ear-splitting scream scared Domoja from his seat. I jolted as well, looking toward the source. Domoja¡¯s pocket watch dinged next. My smartphone¡¯s alarm went off as well.

    Martiz was screaming as he held onto his glowing right shoulder, bellowing Spanish words too fast for me to understand.

    ¡°Perfect timing!¡± Domoja said.

    ¡°You see what I mean?¡± I said amongst Martiz¡¯s screams.

    ¡°Sure sure. Everyone, back away from the array! Amber, keep monitoring the scanning program for failures! I need it as clean as you can.¡± Domoja hopped to his camera setup, still recording since he last touched it.

    Each post¡¯s crystal brightened to a halogen bulb, eye-squinting level with a single command from Amber¡¯s tablet. She brought her goggles over her eyes. Smart. The goggle¡¯s blacked-out glass reflected the crystal¡¯s glow.

    Matiz¡¯s wife was screaming as he was, and fighting my parents to get closer to him. They held her and her son back quite well. Not everybody understands that when someone touches the energy dome, they dissolve into sand instantly.

    Let¡¯s face it. At this point since the asteroid crash, it¡¯s more inevitable to see or be part of a terran transformation. There is nothing else to do but give them space to go through it. Nothing could be done as the blue stuff erupted from Martiz¡¯s shoulder before everywhere else, watched it dissolve his clothes away, stick to his body like glue, and encase it in a tight suit. Martiz was well into screaming in blood-curdling pain and his body thrashed around before the blue stuff covered his head and muffled his screams a little. The ring in the ground and transparent dome appeared just before his eyes were sealed away. And for real, no one would be dumb enough to stop it without killing the one being transformed or the interloper.

    So me, my parents, Martiz¡¯s family, the aliens, and the nearby guards still hanging around, were forced to watch a near-naked human turn into a terran.

    Amber stood still as the lights from the posts and the dome lit her goggles up. She said an inaudible ¡°wow¡± to herself.

    Jaruka and Shaotzi watched side by side. He whispered to his sister some remarks I couldn¡¯t make out from their lips.

    Domoja, well, he was frozen where he stood. Gaping at the process. I didn¡¯t see what his eyes looked like.

    ¡°See what I mean?¡± I yelled amongst Martiz¡¯s screams. ¡°Pretty violent.¡±

    I was sure Domoja cursed in his language. He cursed again when we all saw Martiz¡¯s back snap backward, then snapped back to normal while the rest of his body started showing his terran features like his tail pushing out from above his ass.

    Scott, Katie and their totems came out from the house a minute later. They regarded Martiz with intense worry.

    As Martiz¡¯s ribbed armor plating showed through the suit on his arms, legs, and long spine and tail, the rest of his body gained strength. A lot of strength. His potbelly shrank and reformed into a modest six-pack. Once the reforming finished, a gurgling sound came up. The suit opened a little over his mouth and he puked black sludge where he knelt all over the grass. Toxins. Any alcohol he drank. Medications. Bad food. The smell was instantly invading my nose and I had to cover my mouth.

    When Martiz stopped screaming, he collapsed to the ground, amongst the black sludge. I could see the dome and lights from the rune circle waning.

    I checked my watch. A little under ten minutes. Always.

    I caught Shaotzi looking away for a moment.

    Once the dome and ring light dissipated, the blue bodysuit encasing Martiz¡¯s body began ripping and lifting itself from him and collecting in a smaller rune circle next to him. His skin was marked with scars from farming and bar fights over the years, but afterward, it was flawless, every part of that life-changing history stripped away. His whole body replaced what I can describe as a marathon runner¡¯s physique. I¡¯d imagine lifting a full grape juice vat would be easier for him. He kept his brown curly hair short every time, but once the suit lifted from his head, a large mass of curly hair puffed out. His doberman dog totem finished forming next to him, a brown-furred tattoo displayed prominently on its black-furred back.

    My parents let Martiz¡¯s family go and they rushed to him, almost tipping over one of the pylons. His wife covered him in a large blanket and aggressively coaxed him away. Martiz was weak, too weak to stand. Katie went to him with a large protein shake and two protein bars to feed Martiz. Martiz ate and drank with gratification.

    I walked up next to Domoja to check on his frozen state. He was still frozen. That kind of uncomfortable expression put me on edge. ¡°A-Amber,¡± he said, voice shaking. ¡°Is the scan clean?¡±

    Amber raised her goggles to her forehead, stunned as Domoja. She recollected herself and checked her tablet. ¡°Scan is clear,¡± she said. ¡°It¡¯ll take a couple of hours to render.¡±

    ¡°Render it later!¡± Domoja yelled. My body trembled. ¡°Shut the scanner down! Pack up everything! Make sure the data is intact!¡±

    Amber was jolted too but she didn¡¯t protest as she started turning off the pylons.

    Domoja walked up to the ring, knelt, and touched the outer rune ring with his hand with delicacy.

    ¡°Domoja,¡± I asked. ¡°Are you okay?¡±

    He glanced back at me and I picked off the fear from those black eyes.

    ¡°You got everything you need? You¡¯re kind of scaring me.¡±

    Domoja rubbed the back of his neck. His earrings jangled with one another. ¡°It¡¯s¡­ too perfect,¡± he whispered.

    ¡°Come again?¡±

    Then he stood up fast and said to Jaruka, ¡°Pupil. Help Amber pack up everything. I need you and Amber to help render and examine the data. Expect to pull a few all-nighters. And don¡¯t give me any excuses to back out of this.¡±

    ¡°You got it, professor,¡± Jaruka said and went to work.

    Domoja turned back to the others. ¡°Ms. Walsh, Mr. Dunne. I need you both. No matter the reason or issue, I have to do your physicals and collect samples. It''s super important. Can you promise me that?¡±

    Katie nodded.

    ¡°Yeah yeah. Whatever we can. Just tell us when,¡± Scott said.

    Domoja thanked them and started breaking down the setup.

    And I stood there. Not doing anything. Just thinking to myself with this uneasy feeling that whatever is scaring Domoja out of his pants could be bad news. Or good.