ã€ŠEverlifeã€‹


 Part I - Chapter 1

    He woke up to the realization that he was falling. The experience was unexpected and somewhat unsettling.

    His senses were numb, and his vision was blurred. There was a bitter taste on his tongue that he could not identify. He tried to move his legs and arms, but all refused to budge¡ªnot that they would have been of much use, all things considered.

    From the symptoms, he guessed some poisonous drug coursed through his bloodstream.

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    He saw the ground approaching fast, but there was no fear in him.

    Only a pressing need to understand.

    He closed his eyes to focus on the last things he remembered: the soft hum of a paused TriVid screen, the swirling colors of an approaching ship, and the warmth of the Exudian sun on his skin.

    Someone was there with him, too. He could see the blurred outlines of a smiling face, though he could not put a name to it. A woman, he felt.

    And in a flash, it all came back to him...

    ¡°Damn!¡± he said as he hit the ground.

 Part I - Chapter 2

    After so many failed attempts, Will knew it just couldn¡¯t be done. If it could, it would have happened a long time ago. No way around it. And yet, he couldn¡¯t sway his friend.

    ¡°There is a first time for everything, isn¡¯t there?¡± said Jack.

    ¡°Not unless something succeeds.¡±

    ¡°But that¡¯s my point...¡±

    ¡°No, actually,¡± said Will, ¡°it¡¯s mine.¡±

    ¡°Does that mean we agree?¡±

    ¡°Not really.¡±

    ¡°Oh.¡±

    Will looked up at the sky¡ªstreaked with strands of violet and sand¡ªwhere ships hovered, ready to land.

    ¡°You think he¡¯s on one of those?¡± asked Jack.

    ¡°He promised.¡±

    They fell quiet as they entered the spaceport. It had been four years since they¡¯d seen him¡ªZermond the Hermit, as others now called him. They had kept in touch through TriVid, and holovisor calls, but he had been traveling continuously throughout the Weld.

    The man at the security check scanned their retinas, keyed some codes in, then let them pass with a curt nod.

    As they approached the large plexiglass screen that showed the debarking passengers, Jack became restless.

    ¡°If anyone can do it,¡± he whispered, ¡°it¡¯s him.¡±

    Will sighed. He was growing weary of the argument and was reluctant to answer. The camera saved him the trouble when it caught the distant silhouette of their friend, walking through the crowd, and straight toward them.

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    ***

    ¡°Homicide? I thought John¡¯s death was a suicide?¡±

    Detective Ward was a short, dark-haired man with unsettling green eyes and a thick Giccurri accent. He leaned over his partner¡¯s shoulder to look at the victim¡¯s friend.

    ¡°We found new evidence,¡± he said as he stepped into the room without waiting for an invitation. He glanced around, considering the velvet curtains, the gold-rimmed mirror, the antique and exotic furniture... ¡°The autopsy report revealed he took drugs just a few minutes before his death.¡±

    ¡°Well, then it must have been an accident!¡±

    Ward stopped in his steps and turned to face the younger man. He quirked a brow as he studied him, then asked: ¡°And how do you figure that?¡±

    ¡°The drug most likely drove him mad. He must not have known what he was doing, and just jumped off the balcony...¡±

    The detective started for a nearby door and reached for the knob.

    ¡°May I?¡± he asked, but did not wait for an answer. As it swung open, he noticed from the corner of his eye that Brown was entering another room. He continued before the man could raise any objection¡ªor notice his partner¡¯s activity: ¡°Did he often take drugs?¡±

    His host seemed about to answer, but paused and blinked, then frowned. ¡°Well... Perhaps it was his first time. That could just as easily explain how it all got so out of hand. Hey, what exactly are you looking for here?¡±

    The new room was smaller, though as lavishly furnished as the previous. Obviously an office, with a dark ebony desk set against the far wall¡ªcovered with piles of books, trinkets, and a doctor¡¯s paraphernalia.

    ¡°His arms and legs were paralyzed.¡± Ward turned to face the victim¡¯s friend and smiled. ¡°Care to explain how he could have walked to the balcony and jumped off?¡± As no answer came, he stepped out of the small office and considered the paintings on the walls. ¡°Do you have any drugs in your house, Dr. Wilcox?¡± he asked of the still stunned man.

    ¡°Only legal ones. And for medical purposes, of course.¡±

    ¡°Of course. And can any of these provoke the type of symptoms I have described?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure I like what you are implying, detective.¡±

    ¡°I am not implying anything. Merely doing my job.¡±

    ¡°I think you should leave now...¡± Wilcox tensed as he looked around. ¡°Hey! Where is your partner?¡±

    A calm voice came from behind him: ¡°I am right here, doctor.¡±

    The man jumped and turned to face the tall blonde detective. ¡°If you have any more questions, please refer to my lawyer. I will have his contact information sent to your office.¡±

    The two detectives smiled as they walked out.

 Part I - Chapter 3

    It was well known he had a temper, and I was concerned how he might react to my tardiness. And yet, I could not help but freeze in my steps when I saw it. In the middle of the garden, I stared in disbelief at the familiar face of the statue¡ªwhich seemed to stare right back at me. I hadn¡¯t seen her in centuries, but the likeness was stunning.

    With some difficulty, I pulled myself from the spell and continued toward the mansion.

    It spread across two square miles and rose a hundred feet into the air. The walls were bright white, gleaming under the Sun. Despite the feel of unreal, it seemed only proper for one of such standing as its owner.

    The servant who answered the door informed me his master was waiting for me at the pool.

    I found him sitting at a table, in the middle of a holovisor call. He waved at me and paused his conversation when I approached.

    ¡±I trust you had a pleasant trip?¡± he asked without standing, fingers pressed against his temple¡ªwaiting to reconnect the call.

    As he did not stand to greet me, I bent down in a short but respectful bow.

    ¡±I did, but¡ª¡±

    He lifted a hand to hush me and started talking with his correspondent again.

    ¡±It matters not, Ekhil, it still needs to be done. But we¡¯ll have to finish this later. One of my guests has arrived.¡±

    He cut the call and looked at me. ¡°So. You are here.¡±

    ¡±I¡¯m so sorry I¡¯m late, Uncle. My glider¡¯s AI was dysfunctional and there were many... well, incidents on the way.¡±

    He smiled. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it. We have all the time in the world.¡±

    I was very curious why the venerable Rakash had summoned me, but I dared not ask. I was certain he would broach the subject himself when he felt it appropriate.

    ¡±Would you like a drink?¡± he asked as a servant approached.

    ¡±If it is not too much trouble...¡±

    ¡±None at all,¡± he said as he sent the human to bring us two glasses.

    ¡±It is truly an honor to meet you, Rakash,¡± I finally said. ¡°I have been looking forward to this for a long time.¡±

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    His smile widened as his fingers played with the pendant that hung around his neck.

    ¡±And yet, you strolled through the park and stopped to admire my Julia.¡±

    ¡±I had forgotten that you knew her...¡±

    ¡±Didn¡¯t everyone?¡±

    ¡±Not everyone has a statue of her in their garden,¡± I remarked.

    ¡±She was like a daughter to me. She often mentioned you, you know.¡±

    ¡±I... did not know this.¡± I looked down. ¡°I suspect it must not have been too flattering.¡±

    ¡±On the contrary. She was very fond of you.¡± He smiled. ¡°But you already knew that.¡±

    ¡±I suspected it. Though I always found it difficult to read her... She was not like the other humans.¡±

    ¡±She accepted us for what we are. Without ever attempting to change us, or to guilt us. There are not many who are willing to do so.¡±

    ¡±No, there are not.¡±

    Our drinks arrived. I sipped from mine quietly.

    ¡±I hope the troubles with your AI were not too inconveniencing?¡± he asked.

    ¡±No... It is just frustrating not to have any control over a situation when you are used to having control... I so dislike being late.¡±

    ¡±That¡¯s quite alright. It¡¯s not as if we have anything important to discuss.¡±

    It suddenly struck me he was furious. Though I had not sensed it, there had been venom in his eyes and in his words right from the start.

    Feeling my apologies were only fueling his anger, I decided to keep quiet. So we sat there in silence for a moment¡ªme restless, he careless and superb.

    ***

    Michael stopped reading the journal, a frown on his face. This was not helping one bit.

    He flipped quickly through the pile of ancient leaflets, but there was no way to tell which might contain the vital information he sought.

    ¡°You¡¯ll have to read them all,¡± snickered his friend Don.

    He sighed. ¡°It¡¯s looking that way.¡±

    ¡°Is it that boring?¡±

    ¡°No, actually, it¡¯s intriguing... but I need to find an answer before the end of the week, or the expedition will be canceled.¡±

    They had rented a room in the most luxurious hotel in the Qojjan capital. Their suit had a stunning view over the city and, beyond, the Vlanic Ocean.

    ¡°Well, I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll work it out. Gotta go.¡±

    ¡°Hot date?¡±

    ¡°You better believe it!¡± laughed Don as he rushed out.

    The journal had been found three months ago in Annarset, a small village on the eastern coast of the continent. Of all places, a villager had dug it out from an abandoned mine.

    Reading through the first pages, Michael had quickly understood its significance. These were fragments from a centuries-old diary of an inhabitant of the fabled city of Ahuaxa. He was certain of it because of numerous references to distinctive landmarks that were well known as belonging to the city of the gods.

    Based on this¡ªand his conviction there would be hints of its location within¡ª, he had convinced his superiors to finance an expedition into the jungle that spread beyond the village where the document had been found. He¡¯d always thought it to be the most likely site¡ªthis new finding only reinforced his belief.

    When the academy¡¯s rector had realized, a few days ago, that he didn¡¯t actually know where the city was, he had been furious. It¡¯s not like Michael had said that he did, but admittedly he had been vague and probably phrased things in such a way as to imply that he did. Not on purpose, though... at least, that¡¯s what he told himself.

    The rector had given him an ultimatum: find a specific location, or the expedition was off!

    With another sigh, Michael started reading again.

 Part I - Chapter 4

    ¡°Would you try, if I asked?¡±

    The three men had set out at dawn. They hadn¡¯t seen each other in years, so Will had suggested they go hiking. It was something they had enjoyed doing when they were kids, so he thought it would be a good way for them to reconnect.

    It was fascinating how quickly they fell back into their old habits, as if no time had passed at all. They did not even need to talk, knowing all the gestures the others would do every time they came across an obstacle.

    They had been at it for two hours now, with very little talk as they focused on reaching the peak... but now Jack had come out of his silence to ask the dreaded question.

    ¡°Try what?¡± asked Paul.

    ¡°Jack would want you to do the impossible,¡± muttered Will.

    ¡°Hardly. Besides, what¡¯s the harm in trying?¡±

    ¡°What is this about, guys?¡±

    It was the most the three had talked since they had set off that morning.

    ¡°Well,¡± said Jack, ¡°it¡¯s like this. There¡¯s this mask that has been puzzling the whole planet for hundreds of years...¡±

    ¡°Ah. The Face of Xian. Yes. I¡¯ve heard of it.¡±

    ¡°Right. So, as you might know, many people have tried to pluck it off the wall it¡¯s embedded in, but to no avail. I think you could pull it off, though.¡±

    ¡°Magic has been tried before,¡± remarked Will. ¡°It just can¡¯t be done.¡±

    ¡°Stop being so negative!¡± snapped Jack. ¡°Paul is unique. We can¡¯t know for sure unless he tries. Besides, there has to be a way to remove it, so why not this?¡±

    They all fell quiet as they continued their trekking.

    It was only an hour later, after they finally reached their destination and were resting by a stream, that Paul finally responded.

    ¡°I¡¯ve heard its texture will sometimes change?¡±

    Jack nodded. ¡°Yes. It is quite curious. I¡¯ve watched it for hours. I only saw it happen once. Most of the time, it¡¯s all solid rock. But every once in a while... it¡¯s like it comes to life. It lights up with swirling colors. Its surface becomes warm, porous, and soft¡ªvery skin-like.¡±

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    ¡°Have people tried to grab it in both states?¡±

    ¡°They have,¡± said Will. ¡°Nothing works. As if it were an integral part of the wall, even when it¡¯s more alive.¡± He shuddered at the thought. ¡°It¡¯s really creepy, if you ask me.¡±

    ¡°Our friend here,¡± snickered Jack, ¡°thinks there is a curse on it. Those things don¡¯t exist.¡±

    ¡°They do, actually,¡± calmly said Paul. ¡°But they are rare.¡±

    Jack looked skeptical. ¡°Well, I doubt there¡¯s anything like that involved here.¡±

    ¡°Why not?¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s no magic in this world,¡± he tried to reason. ¡°It¡¯s all technology and math and logic...¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not true,¡± chimed in Will. ¡°You forget all those gods... that comes with a fair amount of mysticism.¡±

    Jack shrugged. ¡°That¡¯s all just hogwash. The ravings of fanatics. Doesn¡¯t mean there¡¯s any magic.¡±

    ¡°Just because you don¡¯t see it,¡± remarked Paul, ¡°doesn¡¯t mean it¡¯s not there.¡±

    As if to prove his point, he waved his hand above the water, and the spot under his palm boiled and bubbled. It stopped as soon as he pulled away.

    ¡°But you did that,¡± said Jack. ¡°You brought the magic with you.¡±

    Paul quirked a brow.

    ¡°Did I?¡±

    ***

    While it was true each world was different, there was always some form of energy one could tap into to make magic happen.

    Though Paul never liked the term. To him, it was just a different form of science. Simply, instead of understanding why the stars shone, or how gravity worked, he understood how to manipulate those energy flows to obtain specific results. There was nothing magical about it.

    As he walked back into his hotel room and closed the door behind him, he headed toward the bed and opened his luggage.

    There were places where those energies were not quite as strong, that much was true, but it was always there. Over the years, he¡¯d found it increasingly more difficult to explain this to people. So he did not try anymore. Least of all with Jack. He knew him too well.

    Another thing he hadn¡¯t told his friends was that he had an ulterior motive for meeting them on Qojja. As did they, it seemed¡ªhe smiled as that thought crossed his mind. Maybe he should have told them after all... he promised himself he would. It was just still too sensitive for him. But soon, he would tell them.

    He wondered what he would do once he¡¯d found the answers he sought. He had never considered that before. Wouldn¡¯t his life then feel empty? What would be his purpose once he no longer had this purpose? It was a somewhat disturbing perspective. One he preferred to discard for now.

    His mind then wandered back to the mask.

    He¡¯d heard of it, of course. Who hadn¡¯t? It had been a major story for centuries now, one of the most baffling mysteries of the universe. A half-dead, half-living mask; sometimes made of rock, sometimes of flesh¡ªif it could be called that; that could never be removed from the wall it seemed to have been grafted on, no matter what.

    Would he be able to pull it off?

    He had never entertained this idea before, oddly enough. And yet, now that he did, it seemed like something he should have tried a long time ago. After all, why not? It felt like an interesting challenge, and he always did enjoy a challenge.

    Yes. He would give it a shot.

    And who knew... with a bit of ¡®magic,¡¯ maybe it would work.

 Part I - Chapter 5

    The streets of Keddah were not safe, had never been. She knew this, had always known this. It had not bothered her before.

    But tonight, she was truly frightened.

    As she walked down the crowded avenue, Susan¡¯s eyes kept darting in every direction, on the lookout for any sign of danger.

    If they came after her, would they do it out in the open? She was hoping not, and was carefully avoiding small alleys and isolated spots.

    The crowd would keep her safe. At least, that was what the young short-haired brunette thought.

    A loud popping sound made her jump. When she turned in its direction, she saw a small boy shooting a toy gun at his laughing parents.

    She frowned and started walking again.

    Where would she go, though?

    At some point, the crowd would thin and she would become more exposed. She needed a safe place to hide. At least for a little while. Until she figured out some way out of this mess.

    It angered her, too, because she was supposed to be in control. They were supposed to be afraid of her.

    But perhaps they were. Perhaps that was the problem. Perhaps she had gone too far. Worried them too much. And now here she was, running for her life.

    As she turned a corner, Susan saw a police car and froze. It took a couple of seconds before she came to her senses, and stepped out of the light and into a shadowy corner.

    Her heart pounded as she closed her eyes. Were they looking for her? Had they seen her?

    She waited a moment, but when she didn¡¯t hear them coming, she took a deep breath and headed in the opposite direction.

    Her hotel room was out of the question. They would find her too easily. She needed to disappear. Lay low.

    As she walked past a crowded bar, she wondered how difficult it would be to get a fake ID... Who would she ask for something like that?

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    Did she have any friends who could help her?

    She thought about that for a moment.

    Most of the people she knew lived in other cities¡ªif not other worlds... There was Adrian, though. But she hadn¡¯t seen him in... what? Ten years. At least that.

    Still...

    If he hadn¡¯t moved away, maybe he would help.

    He had always been kind to her.

    She glanced all around, suspicious of every movement.

    Did she remember where he lived? Yes. She thought she did. Maybe.

    It would take at least twenty minutes to get there.

    Susan headed for a transit station... might as well use public transportation while they were still running packed.

    As she went down the stairs¡ªafter making sure she wasn¡¯t being followed¡ªshe fervently hoped they wouldn¡¯t get to her before she reached her destination.

    ***

    He stood three feet above the assembled mass and stared down at it with contempt.

    ¡°Look at them... how pathetic they are! Puny little things.¡±

    ¡°They have come for you,¡± remarked the small man at his side.

    He snorted. ¡°Indeed. As well they should. I am the closest thing to a god they will ever behold.¡±

    The crowd below was an agglomerate of humans of all genders, races, and strata.

    Without waiting for the other to respond, the would-be god took a step forward and extended both his arms to his sides, and exclaimed loudly¡ªhe wanted to make sure they could all hear him:

    ¡°Behold, my beloved followers! I have arrived! I shall bless you all with my presence. For I am the self-appointed Lord of Rectitude. Blemish me not, for I am Wrath! And my might is formidable!¡±

    As he spoke, the crowd became agitated, squirming and yelling. When he finished, a loud ovation resounded within their midst as they praised his name.

    ¡°Lord Valerian!¡± they chanted, ¡°Lord Valerian! Lord Valerian!¡±

    He shook his hands and closed his eyes to bask in their adulation, if only for a moment.

    Then he turned and stepped back into the room.

    ¡°By Udrak, how I despise them!¡±

    His servant¡ªfor that was what he was¡ªwas a human himself, but he refrained from reminding his master of this. He knew it would serve no purpose, save maybe to elicit anger. So he held his tongue. Gods should be allowed some leeway, after all, should they not?

    With reverence, he poured Valerian¡¯s favorite wine into a cup and brought it to him with his head bowed.

    He did not expect thankfulness¡ªhe would never be so presumptuous!¡ªnor was he wrong on this matter. There was little reward for his position, save of course to be in Valerian¡¯s quasi-permanent divine presence. That alone, to him, was reward enough.

    The cup was taken and downed, then tossed to the floor with utter disregard for the servant.

    ¡°And yet, and yet...¡± muttered his master.

    There was a long silence as he paced the room, his mind wandering elsewhere¡ªlikely lost in the realm of the gods.

    He finally stopped and looked at his servant. There was surprise in his expression, then anger.

    ¡°Timothy! What are you still doing standing there, gaping at the walls, and drooling all over my floor? Bring me my diary before I change my mind and skin you alive!¡±

    The servant had been staring at his master, not at the wall, but he knew better than to talk back. So he bowed¡ªdeeply¡ªthen ran out to get the precious book.

    Oh, how blessed was he!

 Part I - Chapter 6

    As they walked out of the house, the two detectives examined the surroundings.

    ¡°I couldn¡¯t live in a house built at the edge of a cliff like that,¡± said Ward.

    ¡°It¡¯s a long way down,¡± agreed Brown as he looked at the sandy beach below, where the victim¡¯s body had been found.

    ¡°Imagine if there¡¯s an earthquake and the whole thing breaks loose...¡± The older detective shuddered at the thought.

    Brown chuckled. ¡°The place was built using alien technology, I¡¯ve heard. I¡¯m pretty sure it¡¯s safe.¡±

    His colleague seemed dubious. ¡°You¡¯ve heard?¡±

    ¡°Research is a thing, you know.¡±

    ¡°Smartass.¡± He turned to look at the house. ¡°So... did you find anything interesting in there?¡±

    ¡°I did, actually,¡± said Brown with a grin.

    When he said nothing further, Ward clucked his tongue in annoyance.

    ¡°Well? Are you going to let it out already?¡±

    Brown smiled.

    ¡°Neither of them is married,¡± he said. ¡°So... who do you suppose this belongs to?¡±

    He brought out a plastic bag that contained a tube of lipstick.

    Ward stared at him.

    ¡°You took this? Without a warrant?¡±

    The younger detective shrugged. ¡°It was right there on the bathroom floor... what was I supposed to do? Pretend I hadn¡¯t seen it?¡±

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    ¡°You do realize it will never be admissible in court, right?¡±

    ¡°Does it matter if the owner speaks?¡±

    ¡°What if she doesn¡¯t?¡±

    ¡°Bah! I¡¯m sure we¡¯ll figure something out.¡±

    Ward shook his head as he got into their glider.

    ¡°That kind of attitude will get you into a lot of trouble, kid.¡±

    ¡°Even if it solves cases?¡±

    ¡°Yes. Even if it solves cases.¡±

    He grabbed the plastic bag and examined the object within for a moment.

    ¡°Well,¡± he muttered. ¡°Now that we have it, we might as well use it. Let¡¯s go find us this mystery woman.¡±

    The bag was tossed into Brown¡¯s lap, then the detective tapped on the control panel to activate the glider.

    He gave one last thoughtful look at the house.

    ¡°It¡¯s funny how you couldn¡¯t tell just from looking at it...¡±

    ¡°Tell what?¡±

    ¡°That it¡¯s alien technology. It makes you wonder.¡±

    ¡°About what?¡±

    ¡°What these aliens are like... I mean, we¡¯ve been using their science everywhere, but we¡¯ve never actually met them. Despite that, we have been able to understand the way they think... it¡¯s kind of scary, but at the same time it makes me wonder if they really are that different from us?¡±

    Brown gave him a puzzled look. ¡°Does it matter?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know... Probably not.¡± The glider rose as he spoke. ¡°But it kind of puts things into perspective. Makes me wonder what makes us tick.¡± He tossed a glance at his partner. ¡°You, for instance. You¡¯re still pretty young. Of everything you could have done, what made you want to join the force?¡±

    His partner seemed uncomfortable with the question. ¡°Family tradition, you could say. Almost everyone in my family was a cop.¡±

    ¡°Ah. One of those.¡±

    ¡°How about you?¡±

    ¡°Some might call it a calling...¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t?¡±

    Ward shrugged. ¡°Duty, perhaps.¡±

    ¡°For someone who was delving into existential questionings just a minute ago, I find your response oddly superficial¡ªif not outright dismissive.¡±

    The older cop glanced at him. Chuckled. ¡°You¡¯re right. Truth is, I often wonder if I chose the right path. All of my life, people told me I was made for this job... even before I joined, I was told it¡¯d be a perfect fit for me. I never really questioned it. If everyone else was convinced¡ªincluding people I would have trusted with my own life¡ªthen who was I to doubt it was true?¡±

    ¡°So why doubt now?¡±

    ¡°Middle-age crisis?¡± he grimaced. ¡°Burnout? Having seen too many of my colleagues die? Pick your poison.¡±

    They drove in silence for a moment.

    ¡°Well,¡± said Brown, ¡°regardless of all that, I must say I¡¯m excited to work with you. They say you¡¯re the best detective on Exudia.¡±

    The man snorted. ¡°Don¡¯t believe everything you hear, kid.¡±

    Despite his statement, Brown could sense Ward was flattered...

    Which, of course, was the point.

 Part I - Chapter 7

    I watched him from the corner of my eye, wondering if he was expecting me to break the silence. He seemed unperturbed as he sipped quietly from his drink, his gaze lost in the horizon¡ªas if I hadn¡¯t been there at all.

    If I did say something, there was a chance it would be taken as an interruption of his reflection¡ªwhich would be extremely rude.

    I was torn.

    As if he had sensed my hesitation, he spoke up¡ªthough his eyes remained fixed on some unseen spot in the distance.

    ¡±You are familiar with the Szelkin?¡±

    The question troubled me. It shouldn¡¯t have. It was a known fact I was one of them. Perhaps it was his way of phrasing it, as if he did NOT know I was... even though that was, of course, impossible¡ªRakash knew everything. That, too, was well known. So I kept my answer simple.

    ¡±I am.¡±

    He glanced at me with what I thought was amusement. Had he expected me to deny it? Or maybe to try and justify it?

    ¡±There are those who would refuse me entry into the senate.¡±

    So this was to be a political discussion. I should not have been surprised, but I was. Part of me had hoped he simply wanted to know me better... this notion had been bolstered by the knowledge we had both known and loved the same woman.

    Obviously, I had been mistaken.

    ¡±I find this surprising,¡± I said noncommittally.

    ¡±Those fanatics will not listen to reason. They refuse to vote for any of my proposals, no matter how sound it is.¡±

    I knew he was still upset and I wondered if this was a twisted way for him to get back at me, insulting this faction so dear to my heart. And then it occurred to me that perhaps I had it all wrong. Maybe his anger had nothing to do with my tardiness, and everything to do with the Szelkin. In his eyes, I was just one of those ¡®fanatics.¡¯ But then, why summon me at all?

    Because he needed me, of course.

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    ¡±Perhaps if you did not constantly deride our beliefs...¡±

    It was a daring comment to make, but I could not let him mock our values in my face.

    He set his glass down and looked at me with a slight smile.

    ¡±I can see why Julia liked you. Still... There is a flaw in your logic.¡±

    I quirked a brow. ¡°Which is?¡±

    ¡±The Szelkin do not have ¡®beliefs.¡¯ What you have are aspirations¡ªalbeit unrealistic ones.¡±

    It irked me he would assume to know us better than we did ourselves. But I resisted the urge to throw the contents of my drink at his face; or to stand and leave; or to fling insults at him. All of these would have made me feel better. But none of them would have affected his thoughts or attitude. And all of them would have had dire consequences.

    One did not so openly defy the great Rakash.

    Instead, I gritted my teeth.

    ¡±All we want is to understand our purpose in this world. Is that such a bad thing?¡±

    ¡±As if we had to have a purpose...¡±

    ¡±Don¡¯t we, though?¡±

    ¡±No.¡±

    ¡±That is not what you tell your humans,¡± I snapped.

    ¡±What do you know of what I tell my humans?¡±

    The tone in his voice was a mix of amusement and biding threat. It instantly made me wary.

    ¡±Only rumors,¡± I said evasively.

    He shrugged. ¡°It matters not. They DO have a purpose. And that is to serve US.¡± He paused, his eyes meeting mine. ¡°Tell me, Evken... Would you serve these so-called gods that you presumably believe in?¡±

    Again, I resisted the urge to do something rash. Not trusting my hand, I set my glass down.

    ¡±What is this all about, Uncle? I doubt you had me come here just to berate me.¡±

    He sighed as he sat back and turned his gaze back to some mysterious spot on the horizon.

    ¡±Do not make the mistake so many others have made before you.¡±

    ¡±And what mistake would that be?¡± I asked coolly.

    ¡±Presuming to know what I am thinking.¡±

    ***

    Michael paused his reading to get a drink.

    He wondered who those characters were and what their connection to Ahuaxa was. Their names were not familiar to him.

    The relationship between them was peculiar. The narrator called the other ¡®Uncle,¡¯ which made it sound like they were related... and yet this was obviously the first time they had met, and they only seemed to have a passing familiarity with each other.

    The conversation was fascinating... but also frustrating, as it was not giving him a single clue as to the location of the fabled city. He was starting to wonder if there was any connection at all!

    Could he have been mistaken? Could this just be some random diary of some random person from the past?

    Then again, they did talk of humans as servants, which was intriguing... and certainly implied that they themselves were not human.

    What were they, then?

    He frowned.

    Could they be gods themselves? There were supposed to be thousands of them... He couldn¡¯t be expected to know all of their names, so it was not impossible.

    But then, the narrator believed in some god, so how could they be gods themselves?

    He glanced at the pile of leaflets.

    Shaking his head, he decided he needed a break.

    He took his coat and headed out.

 Part I - Chapter 8

    They had agreed to meet for breakfast, but Jack was late.

    While they waited for their friend, Will and Paul wandered through the hotel¡¯s garden.

    ¡°Why is the mask so important to Jack?¡± asked Paul.

    ¡°Honestly, I don¡¯t know. It¡¯s become like an obsession with him in the past few months. I mean, yes, it¡¯s an important artifact, but we can study it just fine the way it is. Removing it from the wall won¡¯t fundamentally change anything about its nature or its mysteries. In fact... I¡¯m not even sure you should try to do it at all. It¡¯d be like encouraging his compulsion.¡±

    Paul shrugged. ¡°I disagree. I mean, I understand your point of view, but I feel you¡¯re taking it to the other extreme. You said it yourself, whether or not I succeed, it won¡¯t change anything. But not only about the mask. It won¡¯t change anything about Jack either. His obsession will still be there. If anything, seeing it finally in his hands might make it less gripping.¡±

    ¡°Maybe...¡±

    ¡°To tell you the truth, I¡¯m quite curious about it myself. I see it as a challenge. I don¡¯t know if I can do it, but I would like to try.¡±

    ¡°You always did like a challenge...¡±

    Paul laughed. ¡°Yes, I suppose I did.¡±

    After twenty minutes had passed, hunger convinced them to start without their friend.

    They sat down at a table and dug into their pancakes.

    ¡°So what is this mask exactly, anyway? What do we know about it?¡±

    ¡°Not much, really. It¡¯s supposed to be some form of alien technology...¡±

    Paul glanced at his friend. ¡°You don¡¯t think so?¡±

    ¡°I have a hard time swallowing it,¡± he answered. ¡°I mean... if it¡¯s of alien origin, then where are the aliens? Why do we have all this stuff they supposedly built but can¡¯t find any traces of the people themselves¡ªno writing, no graves, no cities in ruins, no spaceships... It makes little sense to me.¡±

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    ¡°What would be its origin, then?¡±

    ¡°Qojja was colonized so long ago that we¡¯ve forgotten the details of those early years. I think all this so-called alien technology we¡¯ve been finding is more likely to have originated with human ancestors. It would also explain that it¡¯s been so easy for us to figure out how it all works...¡±

    ¡°Except for the mask.¡±

    ¡°Well, yes,¡± he frowned. ¡°I¡¯ll admit that the mask has been a puzzle.¡±

    ¡°Wouldn¡¯t there be traces of all this though, if your theory was correct? It¡¯s not like the old days on Earth, when civilizations came and went without leaving any consistent documents... Ever since mankind started to explore other worlds¡ªand even some time before that¡ªwe¡¯ve kept records, all of it written in a unique language... So where¡¯s the evidence?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not that simple,¡± argued Will. ¡°There was the Purge and several devastating wars that all led to the destruction of records. Add to that data corruption and even, in some well-known cases, sabotage, and you end up with some rather large holes in our history...¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not that bad!¡±

    ¡°Not for the Weld at large, sure, but Qojja has been plagued with such events. There are more blurry periods in its history than you might think. My theory is consistent with those records that we do have. Believe me, I¡¯ve checked and double-checked! That¡¯s my job, after all.¡±

    Paul chuckled. ¡°Alright. I don¡¯t know that I buy it, but I¡¯ll grant you it¡¯s a possibility.¡±

    ¡°Thank you so much,¡± jested Will.

    They ate for a while in silence.

    ¡°Do we at least know why it¡¯s called the Face of Xian?¡±

    Will took a sip of his coffee before answering.

    ¡°Yes and no. We can safely assume it must bear the traits of the man it¡¯s named after¡ªor that it was considered a close enough match. But we don¡¯t know the details of who first called it that, let alone when it happened.¡±

    ¡°And who was Xian?¡±

    ¡°Hey guys! Sorry I¡¯m late.¡± Jack arrived at their table holding a tray full of food. ¡°I overslept,¡± he said with a grimace.

    ¡°Doesn¡¯t look like that quashed your appetite.¡±

    He snickered as he sat down next to them. ¡°Never! So, what have I interrupted?¡±

    ¡°Paul was asking me who Xian was.¡±

    ¡°Ah! Good question.¡± He chewed, coughed, and swallowed a chunk of waffle before he continued. ¡°Xian was a madman. Though to be fair, it¡¯s more myth than history. The few records that mention him talk of an obsessed individual who prophesied the end of the world... you know the type.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t think he really existed?¡±

    ¡°All I know is he was real enough that a mask was made in his likeness.¡±

    ¡°Or,¡± said Will, ¡°the mask was a work of art inspired by the myth, created and named centuries after the fact.¡±

    Jack made a face. ¡°You can¡¯t really believe that. That thing is too technologically advanced to be just a piece of art. It obviously once served a specific purpose.¡±

    ¡°You mean beyond being just a mask?¡± asked Paul with interest.

    ¡°It wouldn¡¯t need to be so intricate if hiding a face was its sole purpose.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve both made me even more curious to see it for myself.¡±

    ¡°Good,¡± grinned Jack. ¡°We¡¯ll head there in the afternoon.¡±

 Part I - Chapter 9

    There were many other places where he would have rather been... Jail. A snake pit. A firing line. Instead, he was home.

    Ward stared blankly at the television screen as his wife listed, for the hundredth time, all of his failures and shortcomings.

    He had been late for dinner, as he often was. In the past, it had been because of his job, but lately more to delay the inevitable clash.

    She had remained civil while the kids were with them. But as soon as they¡¯d gone to bed, her bile had spilled out.

    It had become a routine¡ªalbeit a twisted and unhealthy one. They¡¯d clean up the table while she derided him; he¡¯d say some nasty things back while he washed the dishes; then he¡¯d go pout on the couch while she blew her last fuses.

    Not that he was perfect. Of course he wasn¡¯t. He was just as flawed as she was¡ªthey both were human, after all. But sometimes it felt like they had reached a point where it was more about hurting the other person than offering constructive criticism.

    ¡°I¡¯m so tired of this crap!¡± she lashed out. ¡°You know you missed Peter¡¯s game? Again!¡±

    Was that today?

    Damn. It was. He¡¯d forgotten all about that.

    Anything that affected his kids bothered him a lot more than anything Monica could say¡ªor do.

    But he was not about to apologize. At least, not to her. He¡¯d talk to Peter... later. After he¡¯d let her wind down. If he walked out on her, it¡¯d just make things worse. He¡¯d found out the hard way the easiest way to deal with his wife was to stay quiet while she poured all her venom out.

    Sometimes, though, he¡¯d pour some of his own. Out of spite. Or because he just couldn¡¯t bear it anymore.

    For the hundredth time, he wondered why they were still together. And, for the hundredth time, the answer came to him just as quickly. For the kids, of course.

    ¡°Enough is enough,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯m leaving.¡±

    That hit him like a ten-ton truck.

    ¡°What?¡± he asked, standing to face her.

    ¡°Oh, so now you talk!¡±

    ¡°What did you just say?¡± he insisted, anger rising in his voice.

    ¡°I said that I¡¯m leaving. And I¡¯m taking the kids with me. I¡¯ve had enough of your attitude.¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    She laughed. ¡°Is that all you have to say? You¡¯re so pathetic.¡±

    ¡°You can go if you hate me so much, but you¡¯re not taking the kids.¡±

    ¡°Are you real right now? Alright, I¡¯ll bite. I go, they stay. Then what? You¡¯re at work all day. We barely ever see you. You gonna leave the kids alone at home? Is that your plan?¡±

    He frowned. ¡°I¡¯ll get a babysitter.¡±

    ¡°The hell you will! They¡¯d be spending more time with her than with you, and much less with me. Not happening. I¡¯m taking them, whether you like it or not.¡± Before he could say another word, she lifted a hand. ¡°I warn you! I will take you to court over this if you make me. Who do you think the judge will side with? A never-at-home dad or a loving and distraught mother? You think on that, Brian. You think on that real hard.¡±

    He stared at her in disbelief.

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    How had it gotten to this? Had there been signs he¡¯d missed?

    Sure, they fought a lot, but they both loved their kids. They always put them before everything else. They never would have done anything that could hurt them... At least, that¡¯s what he¡¯d believed until now.

    ¡°Have you thought what this would do to them?¡± he asked.

    He hated himself for letting his voice quiver.

    ¡°They¡¯ll be better off this way, believe me. No more unrealistic expectations, at least. And you can still see them... whenever you can make the time.¡±

    She finished putting away the dishes as he just stood there.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to bed. You can sleep on the couch.¡±

    She turned the lights off and walked out of the room.

    For a long time, Ward stared at the spot where his wife had stood.

    Then, slowly, he lay down on the couch and wiped a tear from his eye.

    ***

    The young short-haired brunette stumbled into the room with a panicked expression on her face.

    Her startled friend closed the door behind her.

    ¡°Are you sure you¡¯re alright, Susan? You don¡¯t look well.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m okay now,¡± she said, taking a deep breath as she tried to reason herself back to some form of calmness. ¡°I¡¯m safe now.¡±

    ¡°Safe?¡±

    She looked up at him, suddenly worried. ¡°Did anything strange happen to you recently?¡±

    ¡°You mean aside from you showing up after ten years of silence, looking like you¡¯ve seen a ghost?¡±

    She blinked. ¡°I¡¯m not making any sense right now, am I?¡±

    ¡°No, you¡¯re not.¡±

    Susan let herself fall into a chair. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. It¡¯s been... a crazy week.¡±

    ¡°What happened to you?¡±

    ¡°The less you know, the better,¡± she muttered.

    He threw his arms in the air. ¡°Whatever, Susan! I¡¯ll go get us something to drink.¡±

    As he left the room, she stood and hurried to the window. She pushed a side of the curtain and eyed the street below. It was late enough now that everyone should have been home... but she still saw a couple walking by... and there, a tall dark-haired man...

    Did he just look at her?

    She pulled away quickly, her heart beating fast.

    ¡°What are you doing?¡± asked Adrian, as he returned with two glasses.

    She rushed back to the chair. ¡°Nothing.¡± She took the drink he handed her and downed half of it. ¡°Thanks.¡±

    ¡°Why are you here, Susan?¡±

    ¡°I need help.¡±

    He made a face. ¡°Understatement of the year.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m serious! I have nowhere to go. I¡¯m desperate, Adrian! Could I stay here? At least for a little while?¡±

    ¡°Of course, but¡ª¡±

    ¡°Thank you! Oh, thank you so much! You¡¯re a life savior!¡±

    She jumped out of her chair and hugged him.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry to drag you into this mess... but I didn¡¯t know where else to go.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t mention it,¡± he muttered. ¡°Though I wish you¡¯d tell me¡ª¡±

    ¡°Please don¡¯t ask.¡±

    He sighed. ¡°Fine. Are you hungry?¡±

    ¡°Famished!¡±

    ¡°Alright. I¡¯ll order us something to eat.¡±

    ***

    The young detective stood in front of the house, an empty bag in his hand.

    He knew no one would be home, as the doctor was at work right now. So he leaned down, lifted a pot of flowers that sat on the porch, and grabbed the keycard hidden underneath.

    After unlocking the front door, Brown searched the living room. Every time he moved something, he was careful to place it back where it had been.

    He was not really expecting to find anything unusual. The lipstick was at the lab, and they would soon have a name to match the prints found on the tube. He hoped it would be enough, as it likely would be their only clue. Whoever had killed John must have been a professional, as he had left no traces of his passage.

    That was when Brown found it.

    He almost missed it, too. It was small¡ªtiny¡ªand barely noticeable. Someone had placed it under a light bulb.

    The place had been bugged.

    That gave him pause.

    What did it mean? Did it even have any connection with the murder?

    It had to.

    What else could explain its presence?

    Not that the murder itself explained it any better.

    He left it where it was and stepped into the dead man¡¯s room.

    Without hesitation, Brown headed for the desk. Above it, a painting hung on the wall. He lifted it and set it down gently on the floor, revealing a safe. He typed in a code and its door opened.

    He pulled the bag open and tossed all the contents of the safe into it.

    Several items were in there¡ªa wallet, a ring with the symbol of a crescent moon, some papers, three books...

    And a locket, too. He lingered on it for a moment, pursed his lips, and set it gently inside the bag with the rest.

    Once he was done, Brown closed the safe, put the painting back on the wall, and walked out.

    It was frustrating not to know what had happened.

    Well, of course, he knew what had happened. He just didn¡¯t know who had done it. Let alone for what reasons. And that, perhaps, was the most puzzling part of the equation.

    The bug only made it all the more intriguing.

    They had looked at the security cameras, but either they had been tampered with or whoever had committed the crime had known which spots to avoid to not appear in the footage...

    Which, again, hinted at a professional.

    He tossed the bag on the back seat of his glider and keyed in an address. The vehicle lifted off as he sat back and pondered.

    Whatever it took, he would see this to the end.

    No matter what.

    He had to find out who had killed John Rosenkrantz.

    That was the only way he could make sure it never happened to him again.

 Part I - Chapter 10

    They had a few hours to kill before they headed out for the cave, so Paul decided to explore the city... and maybe find a few answers while he was at it, if he could.

    Joqqal was the sprawling capital of Qojja. It was an odd place. A disparate mixture of cultures and architectures from various worlds. Even the layout of the streets was strange... you would have long, straight, flat roads for miles; and then all of a sudden, short sloping and winding paths; and then you¡¯d reach circular trails that made little sense to the logical mind.

    As he walked through the crowds, he thought back to the conversation with his friends and wondered if Xian himself had had anything to do with the mask. Or was it really just an elaborate art piece, intended to baffle and confuse? And if Jack was right, and it was a device, then what had been its purpose?

    That it would sometimes light up and change aspect was also intriguing. Was it still somehow being powered? How and why?

    He asked for directions a few times and eventually arrived in front of an antiquity shop.

    The establishment was old¡ªperhaps as old as some of the items it carries, he thought with some amusement¡ª, well furnished but devoid of customers.

    As he made his way through an assortment of jars, statuettes, clocks, and miscellaneous trinkets, a door opened in the back of the store and a young, dark-skinned woman appeared.

    ¡°Good day, wassab. May I be of assistance?¡±

    ¡°I hope so,¡± he responded with a smile. ¡°I am looking for someone.¡±

    ¡°We only sell items, here,¡± she said with a twinkle of mischief, ¡°not people.¡±

    He laughed. ¡°Indeed. But I have been told you might know of this particular someone. Whom I do not wish to buy,¡± he added with a wink, ¡°but merely to speak with.¡±

    ¡°Ah. And what would be this person¡¯s name?¡±

    ¡°I do not know,¡± he admitted. ¡°And therein lies my predicament. However, she has a distinctive tattoo on her shoulder¡ªwhich is what prompted some to point me in your direction...¡±

    The woman¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°A serpent within a flame?¡±

    ¡°You do know her!¡±

    She nodded, her expression now more serious. ¡°Her name is Alyssya. But you should not seek her.¡±

    ¡°Why would you say that?¡± he asked in surprise. ¡°I have come a long way for her...¡±

    ¡°She has embraced the Flame. She will not speak.¡±

    ¡°I... I don¡¯t understand?¡±

    ¡°You are not of Qojja?¡± she asked after considering him for a moment.

    ¡°No, I am not.¡±

    ¡°You should go.¡± When he stared at her, she shook her head and chuckled. ¡°I¡¯m not throwing you out of the shop. I meant you should leave the planet.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure that¡¯s much better...¡±

    ¡°There are many religions here,¡± she explained, ¡°not all of them kind or understanding of strangers. The Flame is one of the more vicious ones. Not only will she not speak to you, but she is likely to become violent. So if your sole purpose in coming here was to see her, you would be better off leaving.¡±

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    He sighed. ¡°That is not an option. She may be the only person with the answers I have sought for most of my life, so I¡¯ll take my chances... I really need to meet her. Could you help me? Please?¡±

    ¡°I will give you the information you ask, though I am not sure I am doing you any favor.¡±

    She walked to the back of the store and went behind the counter. Leaning down, she disappeared for a moment, then stood and wrote something down on a piece of paper.

    ¡°When you go to her,¡± she said as she returned and handed him the note, ¡°make sure she is alone. Whatever you do, do not approach her if there are others with her. Your life would be in great peril then. You might be able to handle her alone, but I doubt you would a group of them. Please do not take my words lightly.¡±

    ¡°I will follow your advice,¡± he assured her as he took the paper and glanced at it. It had Alyssya¡¯s name and an address. ¡°Thank you.¡±

    ***

    He sat in the waiting room, wondering how much longer he would have to wait. He had been sitting there for twenty minutes and he was growing restless.

    Adrian was also anxious about how Susan would react if he got back home later than what he¡¯d told her.

    It had been a last-minute decision.

    He had spent the whole day thinking about her, and it had made him distracted at work. It was difficult to focus when his mind kept wandering and wondering about what could have turned the strong woman he had known into this messy wreck that had suddenly shown up at his doorstep.

    So he had decided to do something about it.

    ¡°Mr. Harris? Dr. Birkin will see you now.¡±

    He sprung to his feet and followed the woman.

    It was a rather large and popular hospital. He had come here because he knew this doctor had treated many high-profile cases involving acute paranoia... if anyone could help Susan, he figured it would be him.

    He spent an hour there, describing the previous night¡¯s incident, and how his friend had behaved. Birkin was very attentive, showing interest, assuring him he could help.

    ¡°I will need to see her, of course.¡±

    ¡°That might be challenging,¡± said Adrian. ¡°I¡¯m not sure how she¡¯ll react when I tell her about this.¡±

    Birkin smiled. ¡°There are always ways. I could drop by at your place, and act as if I were a friend. That would give me a chance to meet her and better assess the situation.¡±

    ¡°You would do this?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve done it before.¡±

    ¡°That would be great!¡±

    The doctor took Susan¡¯s name and created a file for her.

    ¡°She was always a lovely person,¡± said Adrian sadly as he stood to leave and shook Birkin¡¯s hand. ¡°I don¡¯t know what happened to her...¡±

    ¡°We will figure it out.¡±

    Adrian thanked the doctor again.

    As he left the hospital, he smiled.

    He already felt so much better.

    ***

    It had been so long since she¡¯d last walked among men that Thyria had forgotten how they smelled... It was something she would have preferred not to remember.

    She considered the one standing before her with disgust¡ªnot just because of his odor. This particular specimen wore a beard, his long hair was disheveled, and he strode around as if he owned the place... Which, in fact, he did. But that was no excuse to act so righteously¡ªnot in her presence!

    ¡°So, what do you think?¡± the man asked with a wide grin.

    She wanted to just wipe it off his face, but she knew her people would frown upon such behavior. So she kept her temper in check.

    ¡°It will do. You will receive payment before the day is over. But for now, I would like to be alone.¡±

    The man shrugged¡ªhow impudent! ¡°As you wish. I left the keycard on the desk.¡±

    He turned and walked out.

    She waited for the sound of his footsteps to fade before she walked to the window, opened it, stepped onto the balcony, and stared down at the streets.

    Why put herself through this agony? she asked herself. There were other places she could have gone, more quiet ones... where humans did not swarm.

    But she knew why.

    The memories had drawn her back.

    She had left to forget... but being alone had only made the past more vivid, more haunting. She knew now that if she was to find peace, she¡¯d have to confront her ghosts.

    What she needed was closure.

    She snorted.

    How could she get anything done with so many humans around? This was not the city she had once known. It only looked and felt the same. The stench, though, was telling.

    ¡°Well,¡± she muttered, ¡°at least I will not grow hungry here.¡±

    Holding on to the railing with one hand, she took off her shoes with the other, then unfastened her robe, and slipped out of her dress.

    As naked as on the day she was born¡ªover a thousand years prior¡ª, she left her clothes on the balcony, walked proudly across the living room, and into the bathroom.

    She needed a shower.

    Though she had no illusion water could cleanse the filth of this city off her skin.

 Part I - Chapter 11

    After they received the results from the lab, everything went very fast.

    The mystery woman was identified and her abandoned hotel room thoroughly searched. Her description was sent out to all public spaces¡ªparks, malls, hospitals, spaceports...

    A few hours later, the police picked her up after they were informed a file had been opened under her name at the Cadmere Hospital.

    Susan Caine was brought in and the two detectives were informed of her arrest.

    She sat in the interrogation room, quiet and sullen.

    ¡°What was your relationship with the deceased?¡± asked Ward.

    The young brunette did not answer.

    ¡°We know you were in that house when he was killed. We found your prints on a lipstick you dropped in the bathroom. Even as we speak, a team has been dispatched to the house, and I bet they¡¯ll find more of your prints there, all over the place... in John¡¯s bed, maybe?¡±

    Brown did not twitch¡ªhe knew this was a mere tactic to get a reaction out of the woman. And it worked, too.

    She seemed disgusted by the suggestion. ¡°No! I did not... No! I... He was just helping me, is all.¡±

    ¡°Helping you how?¡±

    Her eyes moved away from the detective.

    ¡°Look,¡± said Brown softly, ¡°we know you had nothing to do with it...¡± He ignored his colleague¡¯s surprised look and went on: ¡°But we need your help to find the killer.¡±

    Susan started sobbing. ¡°It¡¯s all my fault! I should never have...¡±

    ¡°Never have what?¡± asked Ward hopefully.

    ¡°You don¡¯t understand... they killed him to silence him. So he wouldn¡¯t tell me the truth.¡±

    Brown frowned. This was becoming even more puzzling.

    ¡°The truth about what?¡±

    Her eyes shot between them. ¡°I... I don¡¯t want anyone else to get hurt. It¡¯s too dangerous. I can¡¯t say anything.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re safe here,¡± said Ward. ¡°We can protect you.¡±

    She didn¡¯t seem convinced.

    Brown leaned closer.

    ¡°I promise you, we will do everything in our power to keep you safe. Besides, what better way to keep yourself¡ªand others¡ªsafe than by catching whoever is behind this? And the only way we can do that is if you tell us everything.¡±

    The young woman thought about this for a moment, bit her lip, then nodded.

    ¡°Alright.¡± She sniffed and wiped her eyes. ¡°My parents were murdered. Five years ago. I¡¯ve been trying to find who was behind it ever since. This led me to Rosenkrantz...¡±

    ¡°What?¡± asked Brown. ¡°Who were your parents?¡±

    ¡°David and Wilma Caine.¡±

    ¡°Never heard of them,¡± he said.

    Ward gave another look at his partner as Brown sat, a frown on his face.

    Susan shrugged. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t expect anyone to have. It¡¯s not like they were celebrities or anything. Not to mention, it happened on Lythranus.¡±

    Brown remained quiet, though his mind was racing. None of this was ringing any bells. It made even less sense than before.

    ¡°And you followed a lead to Exudia?¡± asked Ward.

    ¡°Yes. To Rosenkrantz. I was told he knew what had happened to my parents. That he had answers.¡±

    ¡°Who told you this?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know his name. A man I met... well, he came to me. He¡¯d heard about my search. Gave me this guy¡¯s name and address.¡±

    ¡°So you didn¡¯t know the victim?¡±

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    ¡°Not at all! I¡¯d never even heard of him before that day.¡±

    ¡°Then what happened?¡±

    ¡°He¡ªI mean, that man... he warned me that Rosenkrantz would not tell me anything, that he¡¯d laugh at my face if I confronted him directly. So he gave me a truth serum.¡±

    The two detectives glanced at each other.

    ¡°And now,¡± she said as she began to sob again, ¡°he¡¯s dead. They killed him before he could tell me anything. It¡¯s all my fault!¡±

    Ward handed her a box of tissues. ¡°How did you get close to the victim?¡±

    ¡°And how did you give him the serum?¡± added Brown.

    She looked at them as she wiped her tears with a tissue.

    ¡°Well...¡±

    ***

    I watched the house for several hours. I got there early in the morning, because I wanted to make sure Rosenkrantz would be alone. So I waited for his friend, the doctor, to leave for work.

    Then I went to the door and rang.

    I told him my glider had broken down and that I¡¯d called a friend to come pick me up, but it would take him a while. And it was freezing that day, so could I stay in the house until my friend arrived?

    He was kind. Said that yes, I could.

    But all I was seeing was the man who had the answers I sought. Could he have been involved in the murder himself? I was determined to find out.

    I noticed he had been watching some old TriVid flick when I¡¯d arrived, that he¡¯d paused mid-scene.

    He offered me a drink while we waited.

    I thought it would be easier to get the serum into him if I could pour it into his glass.

    So after we both had our drinks, I told him I¡¯d heard a sound outside... He wasn¡¯t worried, because the house was built so high above the beach, so there couldn¡¯t be a prowler. But I told him there were many remote-controlled devices that could be used to spy or even attack a target.

    Though still dubious, he went to look through the window. Likely more to appease me then through genuine concern.

    The house is close to the spaceport, and a ship was coming down to land in the distance.

    I spiked his drink while he was distracted.

    It only took a few minutes to affect him, but it was not what I had expected. He was drifting away, getting drowsy, and it unnerved me. How was I supposed to get answers from him if he fell asleep?

    I took my empty glass and went to the bathroom to fill it with water. I planned to throw it at his face to try and wake him.

    That was when my lipstick fell from my bag. I remember, because I leaned down to pick it up but was interrupted when I heard a loud thud coming from the living room.

    I rushed back and found Rosenkrantz was gone. The window to the balcony was wide open¡ªhe¡¯d closed it after inspecting outside. I thought maybe he had gone out to get some fresh air...

    But when I went to the balcony, I saw that part of the railing was broken. I looked over it... and saw his body lying down there on the beach!

    I panicked, and I ran.

    At first, I thought he¡¯d jumped.

    But then I heard the news and realized someone had gotten to him before he could speak to me.

    They must have been watching us all along!

    ***

    ¡°You were deceived,¡± said Brown.

    Susan stared at him, not understanding.

    ¡°That truth serum? It wasn¡¯t a truth serum. It was a drug meant to paralyze the victim so he could more easily be tossed over the railing. It was a carefully planned scheme. Whoever gave you that drug is either the killer, or knows who the killer is.¡±

    The woman¡¯s face was colored with confusion, then shock as she started to grasp the meaning of that explanation, then anger.

    ¡°What about my parents?¡±

    ¡°I doubt the victim knew anything about them.¡±

    ¡°So he manipulated me?¡±

    ¡°That is what it looks like,¡± said Brown. ¡°If you can describe him to us, that could help us catch him.¡±

    Susan was so enraged by then that she was very cooperative.

    Brown gritted his teeth and shut his eyes tight as an acute pain coursed through his head.

    ¡°You okay, partner?¡± asked Ward.

    ¡°Yes. I just need a moment,¡± he said as he stood and hurried out of the room.

    The pain was a familiar one. He knew exactly what it meant. It wouldn¡¯t last, but it would be debilitating until it passed.

    He made his way to the bathroom and locked himself in a stall, where he waited it out.

    It was not a sign of illness¡ªhe was in perfect health. Nor was it a mere passing headache. No.

    This was an alarm. One that he had set up a long, long time ago. One that should never have gone off at all.

    Something had gone wrong.

    Terribly wrong.

    The pain was receding, now. Finally.

    He did not remember that he had designed it to last this long. Likely, he had wanted to make sure it would wake him in case it occurred while he was sleeping.

    It certainly had gotten his attention.

    He took a deep breath and walked out of the bathroom.

    ***

    Ward watched with concern as his young partner stepped out of the room.

    He had not known him very long¡ªabout two weeks, now, since shortly after Rosenkrantz¡¯s death¡ªbut he had never seen him show pain like this.

    ¡°Alright,¡± he told Susan. ¡°I¡¯m going to take you to a sketch artist. He can help you remember things. Follow me.¡±

    As they stepped out of the room, he pondered on Brown¡¯s behavior. It had been odd. Could he be sick? It would have shown in his evaluation, and it¡¯s doubtful he would have been promoted without a full medical examination.

    The kid had promise and he¡¯d be sorry to see him go.

    He chided himself for going there. Why was he so negative? It probably was nothing.

    ¡°Martin!¡± he called out. ¡°This is Susan Caine. We need to find a man she talked to last week. Could you draw him up for us, please?¡±

    The sketch artist nodded and walked the woman to his desk.

    Why was Ward so negative? How could he ask himself such a silly question? He knew exactly why.

    Because of his wife, that was why.

    He hadn¡¯t always been like this.

    He fondly remembered his first days on the force. He had been happy, then. That was before he¡¯d met Monica. Not that they had always been unhappy together. Not at all. They had married for good reason.

    So why had things changed like this?

    He needed a cup of coffee, he decided.

    As he made his way to the machine, he pondered on his life choices.

    He often wondered what had triggered the changes in him¡ªhe was rational enough to recognize that he had changed... as had Monica, but it wasn¡¯t all on her. It was difficult to pinpoint one singular event, though¡ªlet alone moment. It had happened gradually, over the years, as those things are wont to happen.

    The coffee helped soothe his soul.

    At least for a little while.

 Part I - Chapter 12

    Over the years, the mask had drawn so much attention it had become a tourist attraction. The security at the cave had to be further increased when fanatics became enraged. They believed the artifact had been sent by the gods and perceived this influx of gaping offworlders as a sacrilege.

    The three friends did not need to go through as strenuous a process because of Jack¡¯s status as the lead researcher on the project. He was one of the few who could authorize access to the site and, as such, was only required to sign his name on the vidscreen. They were then let in.

    Jack had reserved this timeslot for them, making sure no one else would be there. He wanted Paul to have a clear mind and be able to focus with no distractions.

    They stood in the empty chamber, staring at the wall.

    The face was there, clearly visible, though also made of stone. And while it looked similar to the surface it was apposed upon, there were enough differences to make out exactly where one ended and the other began.

    In some spots, especially closer to the eyes, the matter used to fabricate the mask became of a lighter tone, almost white. At first glance, one might have thought it was some sort of marble... but closer inspection revealed that, in fact, it was not.

    It was a handsome face, that of a male in his thirties. With wide, intelligent eyes; a small, regular nose; thin, smiling lips; and what might have been a scar above his right brow. Though the figure felt like it was staring straight into your eyes, it radiated acceptance and peacefulness.

    Jack and Will remained quiet, giving their friend the time they felt he might need to examine the mask.

    They moved out of his way and sat on one of the stone benches that had been installed in the chamber to better accommodate visitors.

    Paul crouched in front of the face and stared directly into it.

    There were connections here. He could feel them.

    It was stone, yet it was not.

    Threads ran deep into the wall, into the earth. Energies coursed through them, feeding it... with what? Perhaps that was what gave it that appearance. An illusion, of sorts.

    It was no wonder, though, if all had failed to remove it. This thing was much too profoundly rooted into the wall. At least, it was not grafted. He had wondered about that. But he could sense now that this was not the case. Someone had placed it here on purpose. And it was firmly held in place.

    To take it out, he realized, you would have to sever those connections.

    He projected his own energies toward the face and felt a tingle inside of him. It grew as he delved deeper, so much so that it became an obstacle, resisting his progress.

    There was a gasp from his friends, and that was when he realized the mask¡¯s appearance had changed. So focused was he on his task that he had not noticed.

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    Its surface was twirling with rapidly shifting colors, having now lost any resemblance to stone¡ªto the point that he wondered if he had dreamed that initial state? It now glowed and seemed very much alive. The skin was so detailed you could see the pores on its surface, and little imperfections near the mouth and ears. For a second, he even thought he¡¯d seen those penetrating eyes blink... Surely, he must have imagined that.

    He shook the feeling away and drilled on. But the resistance became painful, as if it was drilling back into his own skull¡ªand being more effective at it. The agony was so intense it eventually forced him to pull away... without having reached the other end of those threads.

    Wiping sweat from his forehead, he stood and stared at the mask.

    Its colors continued to swirl for a moment, then they slowly faded as its surface returned to its original stony appearance.

    ¡°That was different...¡± whispered Will.

    Paul glanced at his friends. ¡°How so?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve seen it change a couple of times,¡± said Jack as he scratched his chest, ¡°but never with such quick motions. You must have done something right...¡±

    Paul grimaced. ¡°I don¡¯t know. This thing...¡± He shook his head as he tried to find the right words. ¡°I¡¯m not sure I can do this, guys.¡±

    Without waiting for a response from them, he walked out of the chamber.

    ***

    For most of her life, she had believed people were kind. There was evil in the world, of course, but it was a fringe phenomenon, which could only be ascribed to a handful of despicable individuals who did not like to follow the rules and only put their own well-being and profit before anyone else¡¯s.

    But the vast majority of people were not like that. They would help an elderly person cross the street. Carry their groceries for them. Rescue a cat from a tree. Watch the neighbor¡¯s house while they were away on vacation. Denounce injustices and condemn crimes.

    This all had changed when her parents had been murdered.

    Susan¡¯s eyes had then opened to the cruel realities of the world around her, of how society functioned, and how authorities rarely righted wrongs.

    After all, if the system was so perfect, then why had the killers never been caught?

    In the past five years, she had become convinced that corruption ran rampant in all the deepest branches of the government and that this, at least in part, was to blame for the failures of justice in her case. She often wondered if, perhaps, it was not even the motive for the murder. It¡¯s not like her parents had not been outspoken about the flawed mechanics of the Weld. It did not feel so unlikely to her they could have been targeted because of that.

    Her growing cynicism only reinforced this belief. While it was, itself, further fueled by this new development.

    How could she have been so naive?

    She should have seen it coming a hundred miles away.

    A perfect stranger gave her a truth serum¡ªthat likely cost a fortune¡ªout of the goodness of their heart? Not once had she questioned the man¡¯s motives. She was so obsessed with her own quest she had not seen how obviously shady the deal was.

    She was so tired of the conspiracies and manipulations. They seemed to be everywhere she went.

    But it was over now. She would not let them control her this way anymore. She was done jumping through hoops.

    If they thought they could scare her away, they had another thing coming.

    Not that she believed anymore the stranger had any connection with her parents¡¯ death, but it was a general sense of rebellion. Against the system and the deceptions.

    She would unveil the truth about her parents, no matter the cost. If they came after her, then so be it. She was willing to risk her skin for this cause... after all, what else did she have left? It had been the focus of her life for the past five years.

    They had already taken her parents from her. There was nothing left for her to lose.

    But she also was keenly aware of her own limitations. The stranger was obviously dangerous. She could not go after him. What would be the point, anyway, if he had nothing to do with her parents?

    She would have liked to get some revenge¡ªfor lack of justice¡ªagainst him, but that was not worth the risk. She had more important business to attend to.

    No more distractions.

    There was another lead she had not yet followed.

    One she had avoided until now.

    She headed to the spaceport and bought a ticket to Vuulthur.

    It was time to go home.

 Part I - Chapter 13

    The garden hung two miles above the ground. One needed to use the private elevator¡ªor magic¡ªto reach it. Once there, one could easily lose oneself in the vastness of this artificial Eden. There were mazes of trees, lush fields of flowers, multiple sculptures and fountains... And at the very center of this massive floating piece of land stood the mansion. Ancient, majestic, imposing.

    It was there that Rakash took me to dine.

    I had been there for two hours, and he had yet to tell me why he had summoned me.

    The man disliked that I¡¯d been late, yet showed no particular hurry in coming to the point.

    I suspected he did this on purpose. He was known, after all, for his propensity for theatrics.

    Part of that was visibly displayed all around me as I walked down the golden tiles of a lavishly furnished hall. The six feet tall walls were made of shining emeralds, the translucent ceiling letting in the rays of the sun.

    I will not comment further on the sumptuousness of his residence, or the eccentricities of the meal which followed, for I sense this would do us a disservice and only help feed his own bloated ego.

    Suffice it to say we were well fed.

    I say ¡®we¡¯ for I discovered during this meal that others had been similarly convened. And they, too, had little idea for what purpose.

    Had he been waiting for all of us to arrive before he explained himself?

    Or was he toying with us?

    I expected both to be true.

    Nor was I wrong.

    As evening wore off, I noticed servants remained standing behind some of the guests. I thought little of it at first. I only realized something was wrong when our host motioned for our glasses to be filled, yet those who stood remained in place, as unmoving as statues.

    I glanced at Rakash and saw he was looking at me, twiddling his pendant, with a wicked grin on his face. As if he had been waiting for me to see, to understand. That moment, when our eyes met, was like a signal.

    He gave a short nod, and all of a sudden the twelve standing servants¡ªI was later able to confirm the count¡ªtook a step forward and slit the throats of those guests they had stood behind. The victims¡¯ faces fell into their plates as blood gushed out of their wounds.

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    Of those of us who still lived, three jumped out of their seats in panic. These were ruthlessly provided the same cold fate.

    I and five others, alone, survived. We sat through the whole ordeal, looking around with more curiosity and confusion than fear.

    I then surmised this was the reason he had spared us.

    Nor was I wrong.

    ***

    Legends abound about Ahuaxa. And as legends go, most of them contradict each other.

    Some argued it was buried deep under the sands of the Sahuac Desert; others thought it an island that sunk to the depths of the sea after some catastrophic natural phenomenon; while the majority claimed the city still thrived, to this day, its streets crowded with gods.

    That was preposterous, of course. Michael had always steered away from religious beliefs. He was convinced, deep inside, that there were no such things as gods walking the earth. After all, if this was true, then why did no one know the city¡¯s location? Why did no one speak of it? Would there not be ongoing commerce, or exchanges of some sort?

    His preferred theory was that Ahuaxa¡¯s citizens had left¡ªeither en masse, or little by little over the course of many generations¡ªuntil only empty streets remained. Over the years, nature spread over its walls and structures, hiding the fabled city from sight and memory.

    As for its location, he still believed the jungle near Annarset to be the most likely candidate.

    A voice interrupted his thoughts, rising from behind him.

    ¡°Wassab!¡±

    He had decided to take a walk to clear his thoughts and enjoy the cool evening breeze¡ªa pleasant change from the searing heat which bathed the city by day¡ªand was headed toward the seafront.

    When he turned to find the source of the call, he saw a young boy running in his direction, waving his hands.

    ¡°Wassab!¡±

    The boy¡¯s face looked familiar, though he could not quite place it.

    ¡°Yes?¡± he asked.

    ¡°My father would like to talk to you.¡±

    ¡°And who would your father be?¡±

    ¡°His name is Asanroh. He waits for you.¡±

    The boy grabbed his hand and pulled him in the direction he had come from. There was urgency in the child¡¯s tone, so he complied despite his confusion.

    ¡°What is this about?¡±

    ¡°He will explain everything,¡± said the boy.

    They hurried through streets and alleys¡ªthat grew smaller and darker as they advanced. Michael became increasingly wary and concerned.

    A thought crossed his mind, but it fled before it could fully form. He tried to focus on it, to make it come back... it seemed important.

    And it came back to him in a flash. A memory.

    He knew now where he had seen the boy.

    At a protest, by fanatics who wanted to throw all foreigners off the planet.

    He froze and pulled his hand away.

    ¡°Hurry, wassab!¡± said the boy, looking back at him.

    ¡°No. I¡¯m not following you. I have things to do.¡±

    He started to backtrack, but noticed shadowy figures standing behind him.

    When he glanced at the boy, he saw him running off into an alley.

    Two angry-looking men came to stand before him.

    ¡°You will stop your search for the city of the gods.¡±

    A circle had formed now all around him¡ªat least a dozen men, all with menacing faces.

    ¡°Do you understand?¡± insisted the one who had spoken.

    ¡°It is not my decision to make,¡± he said slowly as he calculated his odds. They did not look so good.

    ¡°You will make it nonetheless.¡±

    The stranger nodded, and the circle closed in on Michael.

 Part I - Chapter 14

    Frederick Brown was the quiet type. Not that his neighbors would have known¡ªhe had only moved in recently. But in the two weeks he had lived in that small apartment, he had kept to himself, making little to no noise.

    This was for good reason, as the blonde detective¡ªwhen he was home¡ªspent most of his time either sleeping or staring at the walls.

    Some might have interpreted this as a sign of boredom...

    They would have been wrong.

    It was just his way of meditating and contemplating his thoughts, weighing his options.

    For there was much he needed to consider.

    On the one hand, there was the pressing matter of finding an elusive murderer before he could strike again... and understanding his motives was even more crucial.

    On the other, there was the similarly pressing issue of the alarm. He knew it could not be ignored. But addressing that particular problem would require setting the former aside¡ªat least temporarily. And he was not sure he could afford to do that just yet.

    After careful consideration, he decided the latter issue could wait. There were enough safeguards in place that he could reasonably delay his intervention for a few days. He wasn¡¯t sure if that would be enough to close the investigation, but he would give himself this extra time to find out.

    Either way, a time would soon come when he¡¯d have to leave. There was no way around that.

    He could at least make some preparations.

    With a sigh, he stood and headed out.

    If he was leaving soon, he might as well enjoy the little time he had left.

    ***

    The address was in the poorest neighborhood of Joqqal¡ªof course it was. He realized he should have expected this. Fanaticism did not come out of nothing. It was often born out of despair and poverty.

    Paul found a spot across the street, from where he could watch the house without being seen.

    While he waited, he recalled the unsettling experience in the cave.

    It was like nothing he had ever felt before. There was power there. Ancient power that had terrified him.

    Could he remove the mask from the wall?

    Maybe.

    He had seen a path that could take him there.

    But did he want to take it?

    An insect buzzed around his head and he distractedly waved a hand in the air to dismiss it.

    The problem no longer was so much about whether he could do it or not, but rather about whether he should or should not.

    Whatever that thing was, it had been placed there for a reason. What right had he to even try to take it without a full understanding of its function?

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    The power that coursed through those threads, the way the mask had reacted to his probing, all of it just made him question the validity of Jack¡¯s request.

    Besides, why did his friend want it so much?

    He was a historian, sure, but so was Will. And Will did not seem too thrilled with the notion himself, nor did he think it was necessary for their work.

    For centuries, scientists had studied it from a distance just fine. Why change this now?

    There was some movement in the house¡ªhe could tell from the shadows dancing behind the windows, though the lights were off inside. Night was still some hours away, though, so that did not strike him as odd.

    He felt the bug was now crawling on the skin of his arm. He squashed it with the palm of his hand, annoyed.

    Three hours went by as he stood there, watching.

    When the sun finally disappeared and he felt the ache in his bones from standing there, he finally gave up.

    The woman would not show up now.

    He would come back tomorrow.

    And the day after.

    Until he saw her.

    With a sigh, he turned and walked away.

    Of course, the challenging aspect of it all still titillated him... But could he allow that to cloud his judgment?

    As he made his way back toward the hotel, he heard the sounds of a nearby scuffle.

    He changed direction and quickened his pace.

    At the next corner, he saw at least a dozen men piling up against one lonely guy. Without a moment of hesitation, he decided to help the lone wolf.

    While he still had the advantage of surprise, he made a few quick Gestures to gather a decent amount of energy around him¡ªhe would need it. He grabbed some of it into his fist and redirected it toward the closest men. With a flick of his finger, he forced it to pull them apart. They flew into the air and were propelled ten feet away.

    He rushed at two other who had turned to face him. He punched them in the face, one fist each¡ªbut his punches were supercharged with the energy that still spun around him. They were instantly knocked out.

    It did not take long for Paul to change the odds of the fight.

    There were many ways his magic could be useful... and he had never shied away from using it to exact justice.

    ***

    She was a tall woman with long black hair that flowed down to her waist, partially covering her bare back. The dress she wore was thin and skin-tight, leaving little to the imagination. It stopped midway to her knees, exposing her long smooth legs that ended in high heels.

    Everywhere Thyria went, heads turned. But she paid this no attention.

    She walked with resolve toward the main square, where had once proudly stood the Moonrise Theater.

    The building was still there¡ªwhat was left of it, at least. It now was just a burnt-down and empty husk.

    She stared at it for a long moment, remembering what it had looked like in its heyday¡ªa brightly lit architectural feat that attracted crowds from all across the universe.

    Not that she ever thought much of the shows it featured, or the people it drew... but there were memories here that kept her awake at night.

    It was upsetting just to think about it. But she knew that, sooner or later, she would have to confront the choices she had made on that fateful night... so it might as well be now.

    ¡°Very well, then,¡± she muttered to herself.

    A couple walked past her, looking her up and down.

    She glared back at them.

    ¡°What? You want a picture?¡±

    They looked away and quickened their pace.

    ¡°Humans,¡± she grumbled. ¡°Despicable bugs the whole lot of them!¡±

    Her eyes returned to the charred structure as she walked in its direction.

    She didn¡¯t know what exactly she needed to do to obtain the closure she so craved. But whatever it was, it would have to happen here. She felt certain of this, at least.

    The interior was even more of a mess. The stairs were broken; pillars had fallen¡ªbringing down entire floors with them; the walls were riddled with holes, as if large chunks of stone had been ripped out of them; all surfaces made of wood had been turned to ash, while all others had become charcoal black; whatever furniture had not been consumed by the flames had long since been looted, as had been the paintings and carpets and chandeliers and a variety of other items.

    There were few colors left here. It was a world of black and white and gray.

    She made her way through the rubble until she reached the large¡ªnow unhinged and hanging¡ªdoors that led into the amphitheater.

    As soon as she stepped into the vast room, she was assailed with the memories. Of the fire breaking on the stage. Of the people screaming, flailing their arms, running, and crushing their neighbors. Of the panic that had turned the crowd into a weapon. Of the collapsing walls. Of the flaming curtains.

    But, most of all, she saw herself walking through the chaos and looking around at all those humans who were about to die...

    She would never forgive herself for her crime.

    She should have let them all burn.

 Part I - Chapter 15

    After their friend had left them at the cave, Jack and Will had walked back to the hotel, discussing Paul¡¯s strange behavior.

    ¡°I¡¯ve never seen him like that...¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s as if the mask scared him,¡± mused Will.

    ¡°That¡¯s ridiculous.¡±

    ¡°How would you know?¡±

    ¡°And how would you?¡±

    Will groaned.

    ¡°Either way,¡± continued Jack, ¡°he¡¯s troubled, that¡¯s for sure.¡±

    ¡°Maybe he just needs time... though to be honest, I¡¯d much rather he didn¡¯t try to get the mask.¡±

    Jack sighed. ¡°There you go being negative again.¡±

    ¡°Not negative. Realistic. There¡¯s really no point in doing this...¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ve had this conversation before,¡± pointed out Jack.

    ¡°Yes. We have. And you¡¯ve never once given me a clear and sensible reason for wanting to take the mask.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a mask for crying out loud! By definition, it¡¯s supposed to come off!¡±

    Will preferred not to respond to that. There was no point when his friend got into that type of mind frame.

    They were quiet for the rest of the way.

    ¡°I¡¯ll see you tomorrow,¡± grumbled Jack as he entered his room.

    He locked it behind him and let himself fall on the bed.

    He was so tired.

    And thirsty.

    With a grimace, he forced himself back up and went to grab a bottle of water from the cooler.

    He paused as he walked past the desk.

    There was an envelope sitting there, with his name written on it.

    He opened it, though he could easily guess what it would contain.

    And he was correct... it was yet another threatening letter. This was, what, the fifth since he had been assigned to Qojja in general, and the mask in particular? Though, to be fair, he had only started receiving those after he¡¯d become a head supervisor for the team that studied the Face of Xian.

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    ¡°It is blasphemy but to set your gaze on that which cannot be contemplated.

    ¡°It is blasphemy but to pretend to comprehend that which cannot be comprehended.

    ¡°It is blasphemy but to attempt to take that which cannot be taken.

    ¡°For that which cannot be taken cannot be given, or held, or worn, by any whose true self has not embraced the light that cannot be shone.

    ¡°And that, too, is blasphemy.

    ¡°Beware, for the time will come when all blasphemies shall be punished.

    ¡°Soon.¡±

    The letters were never signed, but always contained that same touch of madness and fanaticism that made his skin crawl.

    He crumpled the note and threw it into the incinerator.

    What did they want from him?

    He was a historian. It was his job to study the mask.

    Did they really expect him to just go away?

    And then what? Nobody else would come to replace him?

    These people were totally disconnected from reality.

    What was more troubling, though, was that each of those letters had always been placed inside his room. Hotel security could not explain it¡ªthough the explanation seemed fairly obvious to him: an employee had placed the envelopes in his room and then deleted all surveillance footage of their doing so. It wasn¡¯t so complicated. But the staff refused to even consider such a possibility.

    He sighed as he grabbed the bottle and headed back to bed.

    ***

    His name was Herman Hobbs.

    He was a chunky, shifty-eyed guy who, though officially a money lender, was known as a fence for stolen items. But the police did not trouble him much as he often helped them as an informant as well.

    Ward had dealt with him several times in the past, and though he did not particularly like the fellow, he would never have pegged him as a killer¡ªmuch less a professional one.

    And yet, it was his name that had come up after Susan¡¯s description and the sketch produced were run through the system.

    The man was picked up and brought to the station. He never tried to resist, though he denied any involvement in the case.

    ¡°Then how come our witness¡¯ description is such a perfect match?¡± Brown slid the sketch in front of him. ¡°That looks like you, doesn¡¯t it?¡±

    Hobbs shifted in his chair. ¡°I don¡¯t know. She must have been confused. Or maybe I have a twin.¡±

    Ward snorted. ¡°Yeah, right. You better spill the beans, Herman. It¡¯s murder we¡¯re talking about here. You could be going away for a long time...¡±

    ¡°Hey, I¡¯ve always been on your side, guys. I swear I had nothing to do with this!¡±

    Brown placed a picture of Susan before him. ¡°So you¡¯ve never met this woman?¡±

    ¡°How would I know?¡± he asked. ¡°I meet a lot of people every day. Often in dark places... it¡¯s hard to tell what people look like sometimes.¡±

    ¡°She said you gave her a truth serum.¡±

    He grimaced. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t even know where to get something like that.¡±

    ¡°So your defense is that she lied?¡±

    ¡°Maybe she¡¯s confused, is all I¡¯m saying.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, yeah, you have a twin who gives out truth serums for free. I get it.¡±

    ¡°Look, I don¡¯t know how many times I have to say this, but I ain¡¯t done nothing... I don¡¯t know no murderers! But I can give you a drug dealer. I¡¯ve heard of¡ª¡±

    ¡°Stop wasting our time!¡± interrupted Brown. ¡°We have enough evidence as it is to lock you up. The only question is for how long. And that will depend on your level of cooperation.¡±

    Hobbs opened his mouth as if he was going to protest again, but then reconsidered.

    His attitude changed, then.

    He sat back and straightened his posture. A peacefulness came over him. He was no longer antsy or looking away.

    His eyes met Brown¡¯s and there was a serene coldness in them.

    ¡°I think I¡¯d like a lawyer now.¡±

 Part I - Chapter 16

    The colors had glowed and spilled out from the surface, crawling all around him. Energies had mounted, pulling at his being. The threads had come out of the wall and wound themselves around his legs and arms. There had been warmth in them¡ªa warmth that was pleasing and appeasing. There had been power there as well, and it had come pouring into him, becoming a part of him. It had felt as if the mask had tried to soothe his soul, to tell him everything would be alright...

    It had only been a dream, though. One that had felt good and that haunted him throughout the day. But he still was troubled and undecided.

    So Paul avoided his friends that morning and headed into town. He was going to stake out Alyssya¡¯s house earlier this time. Since she had not shown up in the evening, he hoped to have better luck now.

    Maybe his mind was just attempting to rationalize the experience, he thought¡ªand perhaps it was his mind that had tried to appease and soothe him, rather than the mask. Wouldn¡¯t that make more sense?

    He walked past the spot of the fight and thought of the man he had helped the previous night. It reminded him this was not the safest neighborhood and he should remain vigilant¡ªeven though it was daylight, he could still get into trouble. In fact, it could even be worse with a crowd around that might side with the fanatics.

    When he reached the house, he sneaked back into the vantage point he had used the previous day and waited.

    Since he would stay on watch as long as possible, he had bought a sandwich on the way. It was in his backpack now, along with a few books and some tools he always carried with him¡ªtools he needed to cast some of the more intricate spells he knew.

    He sat down on the floor and pulled one of the books out of his bag. Flipped through the pages, glanced back at the house, then started reading.

    A couple of hours passed before he heard some noise coming from the woman¡¯s place.

    The door opened and two men came out, along with two women¡ªone of them he recognized as Alyssya.

    His heart raced, but he remembered the advice he was given to only approach her if she was alone.

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    Though he was strong, and had many tricks up his sleeve, he preferred not to risk it¡ªnot when there were so many people milling about.

    He tossed the book back into the bag, pulled the bag over his shoulder, and followed the group.

    But as time passed, the woman¡¯s entourage grew.

    They ended up joining a protest march on the capital¡¯s main street, demanding that all foreigners be immediately thrown off the planet.

    It was an unreasonable and irrational request, one he knew the government could never satisfy. Like every other planet in the Weld, Qojja relied too heavily on tourism¡ªnot to mention scientific and archaeological research.

    He continued to follow Alyssya all day, but not once did he see her stray from her friends. She even seemed to live with some of them, as she eventually headed back home with the same three who had gone with her.

    With a sigh, he walked back to his hotel.

    Tomorrow, maybe...

    ***

    ¡°There are none more generous than I,¡± claimed Lord Valerian to his new servant. ¡°But I will not tolerate procrastination.¡±

    Jaob knew this well, for his cousin had spent too much time gaping at the walls¡ªso much so that their master had understandably punished him.

    Since Timothy could now no longer serve, Jaob had begged the would-be god to take him in his stead. He was so ecstatic to have been chosen! It was such an honor.

    ¡°Of course,¡± he said with awe. ¡°I would never¡ª¡±

    The master lifted a warning finger, and the young man fell quiet.

    ¡°You will not speak unless told that you may. Now. Where was I? Ah yes, there is to be tonight a ceremony of the Ascent. It will be messy. You will, of course, be there to empty the urns and clean the floors.¡±

    Jaob bowed his head so low that his forehead touched his master¡¯s bare feet.

    The would-be god jerked back with a grimace.

    ¡°That is disgusting! Do not touch me again. Now go fetch me some wine.¡±

    As the young man hurried out, Valerian paced back and forth.

    He was tired of being mocked by his peers, of being constantly derided. Could they not see how strong and powerful he was? How he held so many lives in the cup of his hands?

    No matter. Soon, he would put an end to all of that.

    Oh, how they would praise his name, then. How they would regret their prior transgressions. How they would adore him.

    And it was so simple, too.

    All he needed was the mask.

    It would give him such power... he would rule over them all!

    They would not laugh, then, would they?

    No.

    They had too much adoration for that artifact. They would not dismiss the one who wore it. They would have to respect him then, would they not?

    He laughed.

    Of course they would.

    Jaob returned with his master¡¯s cup of wine.

    ¡°Well, you took your time! Did you get lost on the way?¡± hissed Valerian.

    ¡°No, master, I¡ª¡±

    ¡°Quiet!¡±

    The servant lowered his head in shame and lifted his hands to offer the drink.

    Valerian snorted as he snatched the cup.

    ¡°We¡¯ll make something out of you yet... Maybe. Go, now. Leave me alone.¡±

    Jaob hurried out with a smile on his face.

    He was truly blessed.

 Part I - Chapter 17

    Despite living on Qojja for three years, Jack and Will were still required to stay at the hotel. The government did not dare give houses or even apartments to offworlders, fearing how the fanatics would react¡ªthere were so many of them!

    Some argued foreigners would be safer in places of their own, as it would help them integrate, and become members of society. But so far, it had fallen on deaf ears.

    So the two friends had to make do.

    As they walked through the crowded streets of Joqqal to run errands, they came across a long and quiet procession.

    They had seen this before.

    Once a year, the worshipers of Thuyn and Haar¡ªthe twin gods of mischief¡ªwalked through the streets of every city across the planet. It was both a ceremony and a pilgrimage, as they all headed toward Mount Riish... Except, no one really knew where that mountain was. This, too¡ªjust like Xian¡ªhad more to do with myth than history... or, in this case, geography.

    Still, they somehow managed to all move in the same general direction. One could assume they had common guidance, perhaps some divine scripture that told them where to go... But there was nothing where they all ended, safe a peaceful valley in the middle of nowhere. Hardly a mountain, in any case.

    They stood by the side of the road as they watched the silent men and women walk past them. There were children as well, of course, because faith was inherited.

    ¡°It always saddens me to see this,¡± sighed Will.

    ¡°Why?¡± asked Jack as he coughed into his sleeve.

    ¡°They are so misguided... I don¡¯t understand how so many people can believe in imaginary things.¡±

    ¡°You believe in magic, don¡¯t you?¡±

    Will laughed. ¡°That¡¯s not imaginary! We can see its effects all around us. Like when Paul made that water boil. That¡¯s concrete evidence that it works. Where¡¯s the proof that their so-called gods exist?¡±

    Jack said nothing. Though after a while, he remarked: ¡°I envy them.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re kidding me, right?¡±

    ¡°They believe in something. Their faith gives them power, hope, strength... It gives meaning to their lives, too. Do you need evidence if you have all that? Is that not reward enough?¡±

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    Will gave him an odd look. ¡°This is new. I¡¯ve always heard you mocking religions...¡±

    ¡°Things change.¡±

    And they did. Even as he said those words, the procession started growing with the arrival of others. These, though, were not silent. They were chanting things like ¡°Foreigners leave!¡±, ¡°Go home!¡±, or ¡°Stop desecrating our holy sites!¡±

    ¡°It also gives them anger,¡± remarked Will.

    The two friends took a few steps back, hoping they¡¯d be more inconspicuous standing in the shadow of a nearby building. Though there was enough crowd around to keep them out of sight.

    ¡°Hey!¡± said Will suddenly. ¡°Isn¡¯t that Paul?¡±

    He pointed at a spot on the other side of the procession¡ªwhich was quickly turning into a mob.

    But by the time Jack looked, the figure had disappeared.

    ***

    They had tried multiple times to get a confession out of Hobbs, but the man had remained silent. His lawyer had not helped them make any progress.

    Ward started going through the suspect¡¯s records: holovisor calls, transportation, calendar schedules... It was the bank statements, though, that gave them a new lead.

    ¡°Look at this!¡±

    He handed Brown the documents and pointed at several lines spread over a period of six months.

    ¡°That¡¯s a lot of money,¡± whistled the young detective. ¡°And always from the same source.¡±

    ¡°The Moonrise Conglomerate. I looked it up. It¡¯s a multi-world corporation that specializes in the study of alien technology. Interestingly, their name crops up in a lot of cold cases. They¡¯re suspected to be involved in criminal activities of all sorts¡ªfrom weapons dealing to illegal waste disposal...¡±

    ¡°And now, possibly murder,¡± mused Brown.

    ¡°The big question, though, is why would they want Rosenkrantz dead?¡±

    Brown was starting to have a pretty good idea about that, but he kept it to himself.

    ¡°Well,¡± he said out loud, ¡°only one way to find out.¡±

    ¡°Before we do that,¡± said Ward, ¡°I¡¯d like to give Hobbs another shot. Maybe this new information will help us get something out of him.¡±

    His partner doubted it, but he figured it wouldn¡¯t hurt to try.

    They had the prisoner brought back into the interrogation room and called up his lawyer on the holovisor system¡ªthey knew Hobbs would ignore them otherwise.

    Ward took the lead.

    ¡°Alright, Herman, we have new evidence. We¡¯ll give you a chance to come clean before we take this further. You¡¯re still looking at jail time, but if you tell us everything, we can cut some years off.¡±

    Hobbs kept his arms crossed, with a smirk on his face. But he said nothing.

    ¡°Tell us about Moonrise.¡±

    The killer¡¯s eyes blinked slightly. The smile disappeared, but still he did not talk.

    ¡°They¡¯re a much bigger fish than you are,¡± remarked Ward. ¡°If you want to make a deal, you won¡¯t get a better opportunity.¡±

    The lawyer switched to a private line, so only his client could hear him.

    Hobbs¡¯ face twitched. His expression hardened. He shook his head. ¡°No,¡± was all he said.

    The lawyer switched back to the main channel. ¡°Sorry, detectives, my client prefers to decline your offer.¡±

    ¡°Fine. We¡¯ll still get them, you know.¡±

    They turned to leave the room, but Hobbs called out:

    ¡°Ward... I¡¯ve always liked you. So I¡¯ll give you a piece of advice. Stay away from Moonrise.¡±

    The man stood, and walked out through the opposite door¡ªone that led back to his cell.

    ¡°What is that supposed to mean?¡± asked a puzzled Ward.

    ¡°Sounded like a threat to me,¡± said Brown.

 Part I - Chapter 18

    After dinner, we were brought into the library where our host wished to entertain us with his thoughts on literature.

    It was surreal.

    We had just witnessed one of the most brutal and ambiguous slaughters in the history of our people, and Rakash was now acting as if nothing had happened... As were we, to be honest.

    Several of the victims had been among the members of the senate who had denied him¡ªfor even enemies did not dare turn down an invitation from the venerable Rakash.

    By having them dispatched, he had created a vacuum he could fill, while at the same time sending a warning to the others of what could happen if they got in his way.

    ¡±So why are we here?¡± asked one of the other survivors.

    He had waited to speak for a moment of silence, after our host had finished analyzing a book he particularly liked, and while he was still busy selecting the next work he so dearly wished to share with us.

    At that moment, it felt like time itself had frozen. Like we all had held our breath, expecting some sort of disaster to befall us¡ªor, at the very least, befall the impudent soul who had dared to question Rakash.

    Our host¡¯s hand, itself, had paused mid-gesture. Only for a brief second¡ªthough it had felt like an eternity.

    He turned to face the one who had spoken¡ªRosdak was his name¡ªand smiled. It is a smile I¡¯ve since learned to recognize and to be wary of. One that hints at dark things prowling in the shadows, waiting to pounce on you.

    ¡±Do you not enjoy my readings?¡±

    Rosdak was smart enough to recognize the menace that lurked in those innocuous words.

    ¡±It is not that, Uncle. I revere your knowledge and wisdom. And while I also appreciate your hospitality, I had not expected to spend the whole day in your mansion. And I suspect our friends here did not either.¡±

    Without a word, Rakash looked at each of us in turn¡ªstill smiling¡ªas if to verify from our expressions whether we did, in fact, think likewise. I made sure to keep my face unreadable.

    It had grown increasingly clear in my mind that this entire charade was nothing more than a test. To what end, I had no clue. But I suspected failing would not lead to a pleasant resolution.

    ¡±Well,¡± he said slowly as he turned back to face Rosdak¡ªwho was now looking quite anxious¡ª, ¡°I suppose I should let you go, if you are finding the time too long...¡±

    I wished then there was some way I could tell Rosdak not to fall for the bait. To just play along. Remain calm and distant. I felt that was the right course of action¡ªthe only one that would be tolerated. Do not take any of it personally. Watch it as if you were on the other side of a TriVid screen¡ªor as if you were reading a scene in a book.

    It occurred to me that the library we stood in might have been a way for our host to tell us just that, to let us know what was expected of us, and¡ªmore importantly¡ªto see whether we could understand that message. Something Rosdak, I felt, was about to fail.

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    Perhaps my friend sensed the same thing and came to the same conclusion, for I then saw a shift in his attitude. He straightened and shrugged.

    ¡±Not at all, Uncle. I would be happy to hear more about your books. It was mere curiosity on my part. Please accept my apologies.¡±

    Rakash stared for a long moment at our friend, as if trying to decide whether or not that was an acceptable response.

    ¡±I am glad to hear that,¡± he finally said. ¡°But I would ask you to never apologize again. It is enough to recognize one¡¯s own faults without requiring of others to accept, let alone excuse them.¡±

    To his credit, Rosdak¡¯s face remained impassive as he simply nodded. I do not know, to this day, whether he realized how close he had come to sharing the fate of our gutted brothers... It is not a topic for polite conversation, nor something we like to discuss between us.

    ¡±That being said,¡± continued Rakash as he returned the unopened book to its shelf, ¡°I will require assistance from any of you who so desires...¡±

    All of us understood that of choice we had none; our participation would be mandatory.

    ¡±To assist you with what?¡± I asked.

    His fingers played with the pendant around his neck, and he smiled at me.

    ¡±Oh, nothing much. Only the dismantling of modern society.¡±

    ***

    His body still ached from the beating he had received. Michael was glad the stranger had come to his rescue when he had, or he¡¯d have likely ended up at the hospital.

    They had not intended to kill him¡ªof that, at least, he was certain. Otherwise, he¡¯d have been dead within minutes. No, they had just wanted to send him a message...

    A message he had heard loud and clear.

    Still, he had no intention of giving up.

    Was he supposed to let anyone walk all over him and dictate what he should or shouldn¡¯t do?

    Besides, he had been looking for Ahuaxa for so long it would just not make any sense for him to stop now¡ªthreats or no threats.

    He had spent the entire day in bed, too tired and broken to get any work done. It wouldn¡¯t last, but it was irritating, because he still had a deadline to meet. Time was running out, and he was no closer to having found an answer.

    Some of the leaflets lay on the covers, on the nightstand, and even on the floor where they¡¯d fallen after he¡¯d read them. But they were only a handful, and he didn¡¯t have the strength right now to get up. He should have brought more with him before he lied down.

    He heard the door open and his roommate walked in.

    ¡°Perfect timing, Don!¡±

    ¡°What did I do this time?¡± joked his friend.

    ¡°It¡¯s not what you did, it¡¯s what you are going to do.¡±

    He pointed at the stack of paper on his desk.

    ¡°Could you bring me a bunch more of those, please?¡±

    A trace of concern seeped into Don¡¯s expression.

    ¡°Are you in such a poor state you can¡¯t even stand? I really wish you¡¯d let me call a doctor...¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± answered Michael irritably. ¡°I just have some bruises. They¡¯ll heal.¡±

    Don sighed as he went to the desk, grabbed some of the leaflets, and brought them to his friend.

    ¡°I¡¯m not your personal errand boy, you know.¡±

    ¡°Aww, but you¡¯re so good at it!¡±

    Don stuck his tongue out. ¡°What would you do without me, eh?¡±

    ¡°Honestly, I don¡¯t know. Here, you can put them on the table.¡±

    To make room, he pushed off the documents he¡¯d already read¡ªthey went gliding down to the floor.

    ¡°You¡¯re really making a mess of this room, buddy.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t care. Got more pressing matters on my mind.¡±

    ¡°This city has become too much of an obsession for you...¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m just doing my job.¡±

    Don didn¡¯t look like he was buying it.

    After placing the leaflets on the table, he bent down to pick up all the scattered pieces on the carpet.

    ¡°You do realize that, at this rate, it¡¯ll take you months to finish reading all those pages? You sure you don¡¯t want me to help?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know myself what I¡¯m looking for... just that I¡¯ll recognize it when I see it. So I wouldn¡¯t know what to tell you to do with these.¡±

    ¡°Alright. Well, let me know if you change your mind. I have time.¡±

    Don finished picking up the leaflets and returned them to the desk.

    He then went to take a shower while Michael started reading again.

 Part I - Chapter 19

    Space travel was expensive, but that was not a big concern for her. When her parents had died, Susan had inherited a little fortune. Enough that she¡¯d never had to worry about money since.

    As soon as she stepped out of the spaceport, she was reminded why she hated Vuulthur.

    It was not a pleasant world.

    A permanent scent of sulfur hung in the air. It seeped into your clothes and into the pores of your skin. Nor did it wash off, no matter how much soap you used. Most of the people who lived here had gotten used to it... She never had.

    But worse than the smell were the roaring winds. They blew everywhere across the planet, unceasingly¡ªcome rain or shine, summer or winter, day or night... It was maddening.

    The winds had driven many away¡ªincluding her own parents.

    Susan hailed a hovercab and had it take her to the place where they had lived when she was a child. She hadn¡¯t been there in over a decade.

    The property was old and abandoned. It still technically belonged to her family, as no one had bothered to sell it.

    Her fingerprints and retina were enough to get the AI running again. It welcomed her home with the same smiling voice she remembered¡ªit was the only thing she had ever found endearing and pleasing here.

    ¡°Thank you, Clara. I¡¯d say it¡¯s good to be back, but I¡¯d be lying. Have any of my relatives come visit you in the time I was away?¡±

    ¡°Your uncle Duncan has checked in regularly, at least once a month. Your cousin Alicia also came, once, six years ago.¡±

    Both names surprised her.

    ¡°What did Alicia want?¡±

    ¡°She was looking for a dress you had borrowed from her and never gave back.¡±

    Susan remembered nothing about that... And it sounded like she¡¯d waited a long time before she¡¯d bothered to come for it.

    ¡°Did she find it?¡±

    ¡°She must have. She spent a lot of time looking and left with a box.¡±

    Of course she had.

    Knowing her cousin, Susan suspected she had just used this as an excuse to look through her stuff. Not that there would have been much to steal. They had taken most of their belongings when they¡¯d moved out.

    ¡°What about Duncan? Why the frequent visits?¡±

    She was walking through the various rooms as she spoke, revisiting her past. She may not have liked the planet, but there were some good memories here.

    ¡°General maintenance, for the most part. Keeping things tidy and updating my code whenever needed.¡±

    ¡°Does he still live at the same address?¡±

    ¡°No. He has moved twice since you left. Would you like me to give you his current address?¡±

    Susan was now standing in her old room. It was empty, safe for the base of her bed and some old furniture. There were still some items in the walk-in closet at the back.

    ¡°Yes, please. Could you upload it to my wristpad?¡±

    As she sorted through her old things, she came across a doll that she remembered fondly, wondering why she had not taken it with her... She thought she recalled a weight limit and having to make hard choices.

    It all seemed like a lifetime ago.

    ¡°Done.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, Clara. Can you make me a meal? I¡¯m famished.¡±

    ¡°What would you like?¡±

    ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter. Anything.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll make your favorite dish.¡±

    Her tastes had changed over the years, but she did not bother to mention it. It would be nice to taste her past again.

    ***

    The two friends had left the scene just before the quiet procession had turned into a riot.

    Authorities had quickly swarmed the streets, and all foreigners had been ordered back to their hotels¡ªfor their own safety.

    They were sitting at the bar a few hours later when they saw Paul come strolling in. He hesitated when he saw them waving at him, then walked over to join them.

    ¡°What have you been up to?¡± asked Jack.

    Paul shrugged as he sat. ¡°Just exploring the city.¡±

    ¡°I thought I saw you in that crowd...¡±

    ¡°Could be,¡± he said as he ordered a cup of coffee.

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    ¡°So... do you still think you couldn¡¯t remove the mask?¡± probed Jack.

    The memory of those ancient and powerful energies coursing through his veins was nagging at him again as he looked out the window and pondered his answer.

    ¡°The truth is,¡± he said slowly, ¡°that I could do it. I just don¡¯t know if I should.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡±

    His drink arrived, and Paul remained quiet for a moment as he poured milk and sugar into it. He took a short sip, then set the cup down and looked straight into Jack¡¯s eyes.

    ¡°What I¡¯d like to know is why do you want it so bad?¡±

    Will glanced at his friend, too, curious how he would respond.

    ¡°I...¡± Jack looked down at his own drink. Frowned. ¡°I don¡¯t understand why everyone is having such a hard time understanding how important this is. It seems so obvious to me. It¡¯s a unique item. There¡¯s never been anything like it before. The technology involved is well beyond anything else that¡¯s been found¡ªhere or elsewhere. Why would I not want to examine it?¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t need to have it in your hands for that, though,¡± remarked Will.

    ¡°It¡¯s not the same thing,¡± snapped Jack. ¡°We¡¯ve been studying it like that for centuries, and what have we got for our trouble? Nothing. We¡¯re still as clueless about its function as on day one. Maybe removing it won¡¯t help, but it¡¯s the only thing that hasn¡¯t been done yet. As scientists, I think it is our duty to at least try.¡±

    The call of the mask was strong. Paul could still sense it, even now, as he listened to his friends arguing over what should or should not be done. It bathed him in serenity and lingered for his company. And though he had asked a question he had thought significant, he realized now that, in truth, he had already made up his mind.

    ¡°Very well,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯ll do it.¡±

    Jack grinned. ¡°Great! I¡¯ll book us a time slot.¡± He paused, then asked with some concern: ¡°You sure you won¡¯t run off again like last time?¡±

    Paul shook his head. ¡°No. I... I was overwhelmed. I know now what to expect, and what I must do. It will be fine.¡±

    ***

    They¡¯d agreed to visit Moonrise the next morning.

    Ward had wanted to go right away, but Brown had claimed he had a doctor¡¯s appointment that could not be postponed. His partner had relented.

    There was no appointment, of course.

    Now that he knew who was behind the Rosenkrantz murder¡ªand why¡ªhe had to take care of that other business. He would have liked to see things through here, but he dared not delay more than was absolutely necessary.

    John Rosenkrantz had been a journalist. He was writing a piece about Moonrise at the time of his death. That¡¯s what got him killed, Brown now understood. He would not have guessed it earlier, as the story had not yet been published and was a fairly inconsequential one. Likely, there was something in there that could lead to a bigger issue.

    He would have to look into that at some point. But now, he had more pressing business.

    As soon as he got home, he grabbed the bag he had hidden under the bed. He pulled out all the items he had taken from the house and placed them neatly in a metal box, one by one.

    He included the wallet and the ring with the crescent moon, then paused to sort through the papers. He folded some and added them with the other items. The remaining sheets he destroyed with his portable incinerator.

    Next, he considered the books.

    One was about magic, while another recounted the history of the Weld. The third was a strange volume, written in an unknown language. The printed characters on the cover seemed to float slightly above its surface. The writing inside had a similar shifting nature.

    Brown flipped through the pages thoughtfully, then set it inside the box as well. The other two shared the same fate as the incinerated documents.

    Lastly, he grabbed the locket and flipped it open. He stared at the picture inside, of a beautiful brunette with deep blue eyes. Running a finger across the woman¡¯s cheek, he sighed.

    He closed the locket and gently placed it into the box.

    Then, the box was put in the bag, and he carried it with him back to his glider.

    He had the vehicle drop him off at the spaceport.

    Once there, he headed to the consignment area and picked an empty deposit safe. He placed the metal box inside and locked it with a unique code that only he knew.

    Satisfied, he went back home.

    Before exiting the glider, he hacked into its AI to erase any traces of his trip to the spaceport and, earlier, to the house. Through the centuries, he¡¯d gotten quite good at doing things like that¡ªone day, perhaps, he¡¯d make it his profession.

    He then returned to his apartment and slid into bed.

    Tomorrow, at dawn, he would leave.

    ***

    It had been a moment of weakness. Not that it excused anything. But she knew why she had done it. She liked to pretend she did not... but, deep inside, she was fully aware of how vulnerable she had been with him.

    There was nothing Thyria wouldn¡¯t have done for him.

    Never again.

    He had talked her into it. Corrupted her. Tried to make her a better person.

    It had worked, too...

    For a little while.

    She hated to admit it, but it even had made her feel good...

    For a little while.

    But then she had seen the looks in her kin¡¯s eyes.

    She had also felt the repulsion spread through her, like a disease. How could she have been so foolish? How could she not have foreseen the consequences?

    It had damaged her relationships¡ªwith her father and with the rest of their people. It had made her a pariah.

    So she had fled.

    To forget, to weep, to curse.

    And now she had to make amends.

    She had to cleanse her sins.

    That would require blood to be spilled.

    A lot of blood.

    She understood this now.

    Standing in the ruins of the theatre had helped clear her mind. She had been right to come here. She had sensed it would give her understanding, if not purpose.

    Now she had both.

    With determination, she stepped back out of the burnt edifice and stalked the streets, looking for prey¡ªanyone would do.

    But there were too many people here.

    Even if they all stared at her, even if they all could appease her thirst, she could not do what she must in this crowd.

    Well, she could, but that would draw too much attention.

    And while she would not normally balk at attention, it would not have been appropriate for this task.

    As she walked, drawing everyone¡¯s gaze¡ªespecially men¡¯s¡ªshe pondered where she should go.

    There were plenty of dark alleys, but that felt crass.

    She smiled a wicked smile as she saw a sign giving directions to a nearby park.

    Yes, that would do. That would do just fine.

    The park was big¡ªshe knew it well. She¡¯d been there before, a long time ago. Before he had corrupted her. She had fed well, there. She would again now. It seemed oddly appropriate.

    She slowed her pace as she walked through the park, then sat on a bench, crossed her legs alluringly, and waited.

    Many men walked by, but always there were others around.

    The flow of the crowd thinned.

    Soon, there came one who leered at her.

    It was getting dark now, and they were alone.

    She rose and stared back at the man, anger mounting inside her.

    ¡°I have nothing to hide,¡± she snapped at him. ¡°How about you?¡±

    The man looked startled. But only for a moment.

    ¡°I¡¯ll show you everything, babe, if you want me to.¡±

    She gave him an evil smile. ¡°Oh, I think that¡¯s a splendid idea.¡±

    He must have taken her words for an invitation, as he came closer to her¡ªclose enough that she could smell the nauseating stink of his arousal.

    He grabbed her hand and dragged her further into the bushes and out of sight. The man¡¯s skin was sweaty and sticky and disgusting. But she endured it in anticipation of what was to come.

    The human stopped once he deemed they were far enough and turned to face her with a grin.

    He reached out and groped at her chest... but all she had eyes for was his jugular.

 Part I - Chapter 20

    It was a day like any other day.

    When his alarm clock rang, Frederick Brown turned it off¡ªjust like he had the day before, and the one before that.

    Then he rose, yawned, and took a shower.

    He poured some milk into a bowl of cereals and sat on his balcony to watch the sun rise as he ate his breakfast.

    When he was done, he washed the bowl, dried it, and placed it back in the cupboard.

    One by one, he visited each room and made sure everything was clean and tidy. He had a strong aversion to clutter and filth.

    There would be much to do in the hours to come, but still he took the time to go out and jog.

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    Just like any other day.

    He waved at his neighbor¡ªthe one who always left for work at six.

    When he got back home, he showered once more, to wash off the sweat.

    He put on his work clothes, checked his image in the mirror, then left his house and locked the door.

    Just like any other day.

    When he got into his glider, he asked its AI to take him to the police station.

    As the vehicle launched into the sky, he went through all the messages that had piled up on his wristpad and made sure he answered everything that required an answer.

    Finally, when he felt he had gone through all the required motions, he lay back, closed his eyes, and rubbed his temples to help himself relax.

    An odd hissing sound grew, as if something was leaking.

    Brown grabbed tightly at the armrests and calmly waited.

    The glider wavered and tilted at an odd angle. Then, suddenly, it shook and spun. Its nose tipped, and it plummeted down at incredible speed.

    The rear end burst into flames.

    The engine made one last attempt to restart before the glider exploded.

    Brown was killed in the blast, five seconds before the wreckage hit the ground.

    It was not, after all, a day like any other.

 Part II - Chapter 1

    The news of his partner¡¯s death had come as a shock.

    He had not known Brown long, but he had enjoyed his company and his intelligence¡ªregardless of his young age.

    What was left of the body had been recovered from the wreckage, and an autopsy was underway. The glider itself was being analyzed as well... but at first glance, everyone agreed it had been an accident¡ªalbeit an odd and unfortunate one.

    But Ward was not convinced. The coincidence was just too great.

    They were getting closer to catching Rosenkrantz¡¯s killer, and all of a sudden Brown died? It just felt too convenient.

    Well, he would not change his plans for the morning. If anything, the dramatic news had reinforced his determination to see this investigation through.

    He would catch the people behind Rosenkrantz¡¯s murder¡ªand Brown¡¯s, if he turned out to be a victim as well.

    His glider dropped him off at the entrance to the Moonrise building. It stood high in the heart of Keddah, reaching for the sky as if trying to pierce it with the antennas that covered its roof.

    He walked through the main gate, showed his badge, and asked to see whoever was in charge.

    The man was tall, thin, and looked to be in his fifties. He shook Ward¡¯s hand and offered him a seat.

    ¡°How can I help you, detective?¡±

    His name was Adam Horton, and he held the title of president¡ªas evidenced by the plaque on his desk.

    ¡°I am investigating the murder of a man named John Rosenkrantz. What can you tell me about him?¡±

    He watched Horton¡¯s facial expression as he sat down, but the man only seemed intrigued.

    ¡°I remember him, yes. A journalist. He came to interview me about a month ago. I saw on the news that he was killed. I was sorry to hear that. He seemed like a good person.¡±

    ¡°What did he want to know?¡±

    ¡°Nothing very exciting. He asked about our company¡¯s history. I remember being puzzled, because journalists are usually more interested in the technologies we work with...¡±

    ¡°Did you ask him about it?¡±

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    ¡°I did. He said it had been overdone, and while he found the topic interesting, he wanted a different angle.¡±

    ¡°Did he talk to anyone else here?¡±

    ¡°Of course. I¡¯ll give you a list, if that can help?¡±

    ¡°I would be grateful, thank you.¡±

    The man took a sheet of paper and started jotting down names.

    ¡°Though I should warn you,¡± he said as he wrote, ¡°that most of these people have gone back to our headquarters.¡±

    Ward frowned. ¡°I thought these were your headquarters?¡±

    ¡°Oh no!¡± laughed Horton. ¡°Not at all. Our main base of operations is on Qojja.¡±

    He finished making the list and handed it to the detective. There were two dozen names on it.

    After spending an hour interrogating various members of the company, it became obvious that the more prominent persons on the list had all either been visiting from or were later transferred to Moonrise¡¯s homeworld.

    While driving back to the station, Ward grew convinced he would not find the answers to his questions here...

    But he might find them on Qojja.

    ***

    Jack stared at the threatening letter as he rubbed his throbbing forehead.

    It was the fifth one in a month.

    Enough was enough.

    Instead of burning it, like he had the previous, he took it into the adjoining room he used as a study. He grabbed a magnifying glass and sat down at the desk.

    Using the magnifier, he looked closely at every inch of the note.

    He had noticed something in one of the previous ones, something peculiar. He might have seen it again later, but hadn¡¯t thought much of it.

    But now, he wondered...

    Would he find it on this one, too?

    And there it was!

    Some worlds, like Qojja, still relied heavily on antiquated printing machines. Jack wasn¡¯t sure why¡ªit seemed to him so outdated and limited. Not to mention, they would often let imperfections slip through.

    All the notes he¡¯d received had been printed with red ink, but there were spots where the pigmentation was faded... it always happened on the same two letters. It must be a flaw in the machine used to print the letters.

    He suddenly grimaced as he went into a coughing bout. It lasted a couple of seconds, after which he rubbed his throat and groaned.

    His attention returned to the paper with the distinctive print marks.

    ¡°Well, let¡¯s see... there has to be a way I can trace this back to its source.¡±

    He swiped the screen of his wristpad and brought up a list of features. With a tap of his finger, a beam lit up. He ran it over the surface of the letter and the scanned document appeared on the mini-screen.

    With a few more swipes and taps, he ran a search for other Qojjan documents with similar printing flaws.

    It did not take long for a flood of results to show up.

    He cursed.

    ¡°That¡¯s just too damn many...¡±

    With another few taps, he restricted the listings to documents printed within the last couple of months.

    Only a dozen hits were displayed this time.

    He looked at the origin of each one and noted that they all shared a common printing press.

    ¡°Gotcha!¡± he grinned.

    He grabbed his coat and rushed out, even as he brought up the address on his wristpad.

    It never occurred to him to leave a message for his friends.

    In his mind, this would just be a brief confrontation with whoever was sending those notes. Let them know they were wasting their time. That he wasn¡¯t going anywhere. That they should accept this and move on. Find somebody else to bug. Get a life or something. He had better things to do with his time than throw their messages into an incinerator¡ªlet alone go look them up.

    He was fortunate that the address did, in fact, lead him to the people responsible.

    He was less fortunate that, upon seeing him, they hit him on the head and locked him up in a dark room.

 Part II - Chapter 2

    Rakash was, essentially, hiring accomplices.

    It would take years before I understood the full extent of his vision. Though to be fair, even now, I wonder if there are not some subtle intricacies that still elude me.

    He never, at any time, revealed more to us than what was absolutely necessary at that given moment. And aside from that first day, each of us would be met separately, with clear instructions to not repeat what was told¡ªnot even to our fellow conspirators. We all knew better than to irk him, obviously.

    So we played along¡ªbecause what other choice had we?¡ªall the while wondering what his endgame truly was.

    It pains me to admit¡ªthough it¡¯s important to understand¡ªthat trust was never a factor. I wonder if Rakash even ever was capable of trust. I believe it was, and still is, a foreign concept to him. That was why he recruited us the way he did. He used pressure, brooding menace, and implicit threats to guarantee our cooperation. It worked, too, because none of us ever betrayed him. I¡¯m sure all of us considered it, at some point, but it would have been folly to even attempt it.

    Of course, as was to be expected, his entrance into the senate was confirmed and approved shortly after that fateful dinner. And though we survivors had been sworn to secrecy about his plans¡ªor the little we knew of them¡ªthe events of that night became the source of much gossip that spread through the city like wildfire. I would not be surprised if Rakash himself started the rumor. It was, predictably, blown out of proportions... to the point that soon no one knew anymore how much of it was true and how much of it was exaggeration. But it did not matter, for the result was the same.

    Rakash had always had a reputation, there can be no doubt about it. Few ever dared to cross him. And while this added to his aura of mystique and his repute of ruthlessness, it also drove further home the notion that he was not one to mess with.

    After that, he rarely met with any resistance at all.

    It may seem odd¡ªit certainly did to us who had survived that night¡ª, but he never vied for a higher position. We were all convinced that, had he wished to, he could easily have become our king. But he did not wish to. He preferred, as I later realized, to pull the strings while he remained in the shadows. Despite this¡ªor because of it¡ªhe became, within a year, unquestionably the most powerful among us.

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    Something should be said as well about our own standing.

    As survivors of the massacre, we enjoyed a form of prestige, mixed with fear, and a hint of suspicion. Had we helped him kill the others? Why had we been spared?

    These ambiguous sentiments toward our persons¡ªwhich Rakash also nurtured¡ªwere prevalent everywhere we went, in every conversation where our names were uttered. They were fueled by mystery and our refusal to answer questions¡ªnot because we were unwilling to, but because of the repercussions we knew would follow if we did.

    I would come to miss those days in the dark years that followed.

    ***

    After much arguing, Don had finally convinced him to see a doctor.

    The man¡ªa burly fellow with too many broken teeth for comfort¡ªhad used a mixture of magic and science to heal his bruises. A peculiar warmth had spread through his body and he could literally feel his bones regenerate, his skin stretch, and his soul soothe.

    Feeling much better now, Michael had even walked down to the hotel¡¯s restaurant for an elaborate meal that was more satisfying than the take-outs he¡¯d been ordering for the past twenty-four hours.

    When he returned to his room, he heard shuffling sounds from behind the door. He wondered if his roommate was back already and walked in.

    He barely had time to see a figure jump out the window with a bag in his hands. Within a fraction of a second, he registered the leaflets were gone, and ran to the window.

    Michael¡¯s room was on the first floor, just above a souvenir shop. Part of the boutique¡¯s roof was under his balcony, so it only was a short fall. From there, the man¡ªfor he could tell now that it was a man¡ªhad jumped to the ground and was running toward the seafront.

    Never one to hesitate, Michael jumped from his window, and then from the shop¡¯s roof to the street beneath it to pursue the thief.

    The chase took them through busy streets crowded with tourists and merchants. Quickly noticing he was being tailed, the bandit upturned stalls and pushed people around to create obstacles for his pursuant.

    But Michael did not falter.

    He jumped over rolling fruits and circled around fallen bystanders, all the while maintaining his target within view.

    When they arrived at the port, the thief threw his bag onto a ship that had started to move away from the quay, then ran off in the opposite direction, back toward the center of the city.

    Michael had a moment of hesitation. Should he go after the bag¡ªwhich most likely contained the stolen diary¡ªor go on after the man?

    He decided the former was more important and headed to an empty boat that floated nearby.

    It was an ancient thing, with rows. It did not bother him, as he¡¯d used these when he was a child and had rather enjoyed the experience. What did concern him, though, was the matter of speed.

    The ship with the bag was a more modern vessel, propelled by an engine. However, he could see it was headed for a larger boat.

    Hoping it wouldn¡¯t sail away as soon as the package arrived, he started rowing.

 Part II - Chapter 3

    It was a world of wonders, that drew people from all across the Weld. Not only for the mask, but for many other attractions as well. There were numerous archaeological sites on Qojja¡ªmost related to the planet¡¯s history, but many that had produced strange alien artifacts. The latter were typically donated to the Moonrise Conglomerate for research purposes. It was not altruistic, for the government benefited from the corporation¡¯s achievements. Their work drew tourists, helping commerce thrive, and making for a healthy economy. But the government also owned shares of Moonrise, thus giving it a more direct incentive to help the business.

    Joqqal also was home to many museums, amusement parks, and impressive architectural structures.

    But while Ed always enjoyed art and history, he had not come here as a tourist. There was much work to be done.

    The hovercab that flew him to his hotel, however, was controlled by an AI who believed everyone who came to Qojja had to be a tourist. It thus went to great lengths to describe in excruciating detail all the monuments and other historical landmarks that were on the way.

    Ed even wondered if the driver had not done a detour just to boastfully add a few extra entries to its presentation. That said driver was an AI did not make it any less likely. Though it did make it pointless to argue, as the AI would stick to its programming no matter what.

    He did eventually make it to his hotel and was happy to see his room had been prepared with all the commodities he had requested¡ªa desk, a TriVid terminal, blank sheets of paper, and some spare clothes that matched his size.

    After taking a quick shower, he went to explore the city.

    It wasn¡¯t his first time here, but it had changed a lot since his last visit. He still liked it, always had, though it did not feel quite the same anymore.

    He stopped at a caf¨¦ he remembered from a previous stay¡ªhere they made the best coffee he¡¯d ever tasted. He ordered a cup and sat at the bar.

    A young woman was already there.

    She glanced at him.

    ¡°You¡¯re not from around here, I take it?¡±

    He smiled. ¡°What gave it away?¡±

    ¡°You look happy.¡±

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    He laughed. ¡°Has it gotten that bad?¡±

    She nodded, her expression quite serious. ¡°The locals all are angry against the offworlders, while the offworlders who live here are concerned about what will happen to them. It¡¯s a ticking timebomb just waiting to explode. They shouldn¡¯t be letting tourists in at this stage. It¡¯s unconscientious.¡±

    His cup arrived and he took a sip. He was pleased to see it was as good as he remembered.

    ¡°What about you?¡± he asked.

    ¡°Me?¡±

    He examined her. Tall, dark-haired, skinny, in her mid-twenties...

    ¡°Well... I¡¯d guess you¡¯re a local yourself. And yet, here you are, speaking with a tourist... And while you also seem upset, your anger is not directed at me but at the nonsense you just described.¡±

    She snorted. ¡°I guess I¡¯m in the third group, then.¡±

    ¡°The nostalgic cynics who yearn for the old days?¡±

    That got a light chuckle out of her.

    ¡°Something like that.¡±

    He held out a hand. ¡°I¡¯m Ed.¡±

    ¡°Cora,¡± she responded as they shook hands.

    ***

    The room was dark, dank, and smelled of mold. There was no furniture, save for a half-broken cot. The walls, made of stone, were cracked and stained. There was a small window¡ªit had bars instead of glass but would have been too narrow for him to slide through anyway¡ªthat provided a modicum of lighting from the torches that lined the walls in the adjoining hall.

    Jack coughed and scratched his chest.

    He was lying on the bed, rubbing his arms to keep himself warm.

    How long had he been here?

    How long were they going to keep him?

    What, exactly, did they want from him?

    What were they going to do with him... or to him?

    He kept scolding himself for his idiocy. How could he have been so rash? Rushing like that into the hands of madmen... He should have gone to the authorities with his findings.

    His friends would notice he was gone, of course. They would worry¡ªprobably even report his disappearance. But then what?

    He¡¯d taken the letter with him and had done all his research on his wristpad¡ªwhich was still on him. So they¡¯d have no way of tracking him.

    If only he¡¯d taken a holovisor with him... though they¡¯d likely have confiscated it. They had searched him after all. Right after they¡¯d punched him in the stomach and knocked the wind out of him. Just before they¡¯d hit him on the head and he¡¯d blacked out.

    There came a shuffling sound from above.

    He glanced at the ceiling, but there was nothing there. He had worried to find rats or some large insect about to drop on him...

    ¡°Hello,¡± a shy voice called out.

    He sat up and looked in the direction it had come from. The window! There was a face there, staring back at him¡ªa young boy¡¯s face.

    Hope lit up his eyes as he sprung to his feet and rushed to the window.

    ¡°Hi there, kid! I¡¯m Jack. What¡¯s your name?¡±

    The boy glanced in the hall around him before looking back at Jack.

    ¡°Victor,¡± he said. ¡°I heard you cough... Are you alright?¡±

    Jack made a face. ¡°It¡¯s very cold in here. Can you get me out?¡±

    ¡°Oh no, wassab! My dad would not like that.¡±

    ¡°Could you at least get a message to my friends?¡±

    The boy frowned. ¡°I don¡¯t know...¡±

    ¡°It¡¯d be easy. I can tell you where to find them and what to tell them. And¡ª¡±

    They heard footsteps, and Victor suddenly pulled away.

    ¡°I have to go,¡± he said.

    Before Jack could add anything more, the boy was gone.

 Part II - Chapter 4

    While most folks endured the smell and lamented the winds, her uncle Duncan embraced it all. He said he found it inspiring. As a poet, he drew his inspiration from adversity and misery.

    She had not seen him in a decade. At least, not in person. They¡¯d had holovisor chats, of course. But she missed him. She¡¯d always liked his odd quirks, despite his inclination to accept the harsh reality of this world.

    So it only was natural for her to show up at his doorstep¡ªthough she also had another reason, aside from family affection.

    ¡°Susan!¡± he said after he opened the door and saw her. ¡°What a pleasant surprise! Please, come in.¡±

    She gratefully did, as the sound of the roaring wind was grating on her nerves.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t know you were coming back... You should have sent me word! I¡¯d have picked you up at the spaceport.¡±

    She smiled. ¡°I didn¡¯t know myself until I booked my ticket. But that¡¯s okay. Gave me a chance to stop at the house. And don¡¯t get your hopes up, by the way, I¡¯m not planning to stay long... You know how I feel about this world.¡±

    It was pleasantly warm inside her uncle¡¯s home, she noted. The houses on Vuulthur were all designed to block out the outside world, so it also was peaceful.

    He led her into the living room, and they sat on a couch as the local AI had drinks poured for them. Panels on the surface of the table slid open and their fuming cups appeared, each resting on its own coaster.

    ¡°It¡¯s changed a lot, you know, in the time you¡¯ve been gone...¡±

    She laughed. ¡°All the things I hate are still here, believe me. They made sure I noticed.¡±

    ¡°So why did you come back?¡± he asked.

    ¡°I¡¯m still trying to understand what happened to my parents. But I¡¯ve run out of leads to follow. Except... I remembered something. From before we left Vuulthur. It never occurred to me it might have a connection¡ªand maybe it doesn¡¯t... but now I wonder.¡±

    ¡°They will not come back, you know,¡± he said softly.

    ¡°I know. But they deserve justice.¡±

    ¡°Have you considered that, maybe, this is all doing more harm than good?¡±

    ¡°How do you mean?¡± she asked with a frown.

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    He took a sip from his tea before responding.

    ¡°I¡¯ve seen you grow angrier over the years. More distant, too, with the world that surrounds you. You have become obsessed with this quest¡ªone that is likely to never give you the satisfaction you so crave.¡±

    She did not know what to say to that, so she remained quiet. She knew he was right, of course, but it did not change the fact that she needed to uncover the truth. What was she supposed to do? Let it all go?

    ¡°Tell me something, Susan... How do you see your future?¡±

    There was a sadness in his voice that startled her.

    ¡°I... I don¡¯t know. I¡¯ve never thought about that.¡±

    ¡°Say you don¡¯t find the answers you seek... would you keep searching? For how long? The rest of your life? Now say you do find those answers. Then what? You¡¯ll get justice, maybe, if you¡¯re lucky... but the years have passed and you¡¯ve become an empty shell. What would you do with your life?¡±

    It was irrational, but his words made her angry. They shouldn¡¯t have, because he was right on all accounts, and she knew he meant well. But that was also why it irritated her. Not because he meant well, but because he was right. It just made the unfairness of her life all the more vividly obvious.

    ¡°What would you have me do?¡± she lashed out, a bit more harshly than she¡¯d intended. ¡°If I stop now, I¡¯d still be as empty a shell anyway, so what¡¯s the point? I might as well keep going.¡±

    ¡°The sooner you understand, the sooner you can move on and build a life for yourself.¡±

    ¡°I did not come here to get a lecture,¡± she said, gritting her teeth.

    ¡°No. You came for the tea,¡± he responded with a smile as he pointed at the cooling cup in front of her.

    Her anger evaporated.

    She blinked, laughed, and shook her head.

    ¡°I missed you, Duncan.¡±

    ***

    It was an old book describing the early days of Qojja¡¯s founding, when the colony was first settled. The writing was good¡ªboth informative and entertaining at the same time. It should have kept him wanting for more... instead, he constantly lost focus and had to reread the previous lines to get back on track.

    Will was finding it increasingly more difficult to concentrate, as he kept thinking of his missing friend.

    The authorities had been informed and had assured him and Paul that they would investigate the matter fully. They then had recommended they keep themselves busy, to avoid worrying too much. He was finding this to be easier said than done.

    Will had hoped magic might be of help, but Paul had informed him it would not. It wasn¡¯t so simple... of course it wasn¡¯t! Nothing ever was.

    He sighed as he scanned through the last few lines... Where was he? Ah, yes. The founding fathers had found a strange device of non-human origin. The history of those alien artifacts was fascinating, and could obviously be traced as far back as the settling of Qojja, if not even earlier...

    It made him wonder if the mask had already been in that cave, back in... when was it? Ten thousand years ago? Give or take a decade.

    And though he kept arguing with his friend about the validity of removing it from the wall it was on, part of him was curious what they would discover once they had¡ªif anything.

    Of course, with Jack gone, it might be a while before they could find out, as he was the only one who could have obtained the proper authorization to access the cave... And that was assuming they did find him.

    He chided himself for being so negative. Jack was right about that, he had to stop thinking like this!

    They would find him. They had to.

    With another sigh, he backed up a few lines and started reading again.

 Part II - Chapter 5

    Standing in front of the cave, Ed waited patiently for the head of security to check his credentials.

    When he returned, his attitude had changed quite a bit.

    It wasn¡¯t every day the Weld sent government officials to outlying worlds¡ªand, despite its fame, Qojja was no exception.

    The guards had been stern at first. Their resolve had wavered a bit when he had explained his title and mission. But now that their boss¡ªthe strictest of them all¡ªhad returned with apologies and a warm smile, they all eased up and let him pass through.

    It was evening, so the usual guided tours had ended. This was why he had not come earlier. He wanted to be alone to study the mask.

    He stood there before the alien artifact, contemplating it longingly. It brought back so many memories¡ªnot all of them good. Still. They spoke of older days, when the world was quite different. Not to mention the universe as a whole.

    His hand rose, and he placed it gently on the mask¡¯s forehead. There was a tingle in his fingers, which slowly spread through his arm and into the rest of his body.

    He closed his eyes and let the energies flow into him.

    It did not provide answers, of course¡ªnor had he expected any¡ªbut the feeling was therapeutic in more ways than one.

    Finally, he pulled away, albeit reluctantly.

    At least, everything was still in place. That was reassuring.

    He turned and walked back to the gate.

    ¡°I need to see your logs.¡±

    ¡°Pardon me, sir?¡± asked one of the guards.

    ¡°I must check who has had access in the past few days¡ªbring up the entire week.¡±

    ¡°I assure you,¡± said their boss, ¡°that only authorized personnel have been granted access...¡±

    ¡°Plus hundreds of tourists,¡± remarked Ed.

    The guard stiffened. ¡°Yes, but always under supervision.¡±

    ¡°Be that as it may, I still need to see those records.¡±

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    The man barked at his subordinates, and they scurried away to get the requested logs.

    When they returned, they held a small hand-sized screen that was displaying a list of names and timestamps.

    Ed scanned through them and paused on the date the alarm had been set off.

    ¡°Jack Arnett,¡± he said. ¡°Who is that?¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s the lead historian in charge of the mask.¡±

    ¡°Where can I find him?¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s staying at the Commodore.¡±

    He handed them back the device and nodded.

    ¡°Perfect. Thank you.¡±

    Well, that hadn¡¯t been too hard...

    Now, all he needed to do was to find that hotel and have a little chat with this Jack fellow.

    No problem.

    ***

    While it was true it would not be easy to track down Jack using magic, it wasn¡¯t exactly impossible.

    Paul had searched his friend¡¯s room, trying to find something¡ªanything¡ªhe could use to increase the range of his spell. But every item he found was too inconsequential. Even his books only added a couple of feet. What he needed was something more significant, more personal... which meant something he¡¯d be more likely to have on him. And that was why magic was almost useless in cases like these.

    Feeling like he had to try regardless¡ªand hadn¡¯t the police advised them to keep busy anyway?¡ªhe¡¯d gone out to explore the streets of Joqqal. It was a big city, and he knew it was unrealistic to expect results... Maybe if he could go down every street and alley, he¡¯d have a glimmer of hope?

    He¡¯d been trying for over an hour when he bumped into someone. He was so focused on his search that he hadn¡¯t seen the woman.

    When he turned to apologize, he was shocked to see a tall, long-haired woman wearing clothes that some might have argued did not deserve to be called clothes, so little did they cover. In fact, the thin fabric was transparent and revealed every inch of her body.

    He had heard there were some on Qojja who had low morals, but he would not have expected anything quite like this. Such blatant disregard for basic decency baffled his mind.

    The woman spun and seemed about to yell at him, but she froze and frowned when her eyes set upon him. They turned to slits as she hissed:

    ¡°Who are you?¡±

    Such a reaction was just as unexpected as her appearance.

    ¡°Hmm, Paul Zermond,¡± he said. ¡°Sorry I ran into you. I¡¯ve been distracted. But you should cover yourself more. There are children in these streets...¡±

    He wondered why he¡¯d said that. Not that it wasn¡¯t true, but they were strangers to each other. It was her business if she wanted to walk around naked¡ªand the police¡¯s. Definitely not his, in any case.

    ¡°I have nothing to hide,¡± she said, still staring at him in a way that made him uncomfortable. ¡°And there is nothing here that children could not see. Or are you implying I am a painful sight?¡±

    That, she was not. He hated to admit it, but she was quite beautiful, and he found it difficult not to stare at her curves. He forced himself to hold her gaze.

    ¡°No. It¡¯s just... not proper.¡±

    She snorted. ¡°To humans, perhaps.¡±

    ¡°You say that as if you were not.¡±

    Her eyes went up and down, as if studying every inch of his own body. It made him oddly feel as if he, too, was naked.

    ¡°It matters not what I am. Only what you are. What are you?¡±

    He blinked. ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°You are different. What are you?¡±

    ¡°I am Paul Zermond,¡± he repeated.

    ¡°That is your name,¡± she said dismissively. ¡°That is not what you are.¡±

    He frowned. ¡°I don¡¯t know what you mean.¡±

    She stared at him a moment longer, then shrugged. ¡°You will, eventually. When you do, come find me.¡±

    Before he could say another word, still stunned by the whole surreal exchange, she had swirled around and waltzed away.

 Part II - Chapter 6

    I often wonder what the Suryi would have thought of our wars. Would they have approved or condemned them? Would they have forgiven our sins¡ªfor is it not a sin to kill one of our own?

    I do not pretend to believe that our gods were kind. They were not. But it is comforting to think of them as somewhat caring, even if I suspect this not to be the case. Why would superior beings waste any time with us, after all?

    And yet, I still strive to be my best, to be worthy of their blessings, to please them... because, then, maybe, when they return from their long sleep, they will explain what I so wish to understand.

    I remember the days before they walked this earth. Those were troubled times. When all we had were questions, with so little hope. They were well beyond our reach, but still they gave us purpose¡ªor, at least, gave some of us purpose. Just to know that they were there, that they existed, was enough to stoke that flame of hope.

    Others, who often mocked our beliefs, found hope elsewhere.

    Some searched for decades¡ªI pity those with no faith¡ªuntil they turned their gazes to the stars.

    Our people cannot leave this world. It is a proven fact. We do not know why. Perhaps it is something in our genes, but it is part of our curse. Undeniably. Some may see an irony¡ªor an inconsistency¡ªin this, as it is well known that our ancestors came from elsewhere.

    Because of that, we have had to use human agents to attain our goals.

    They are not as effective, or reliable, but they serve their purpose.

    There is power in the stars. A power we cannot ignore. It is a matter of common sense. If we do not harness it ourselves, it will¡ªsooner or later¡ªbecome the tool of our destruction... most likely in the hands of those same humans.

    That thought is not one pleasing to our people.

    We like to remain in control.

    And that is difficult to do when you are locked in a cage.

    Those are not MY beliefs, but many of our people think in such terms.

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    It is an odd thing to find oneself at the crossroads of conflicting views and have to embrace them all¡ªsome by conviction, others by necessity.

    I felt trapped, and I hated every minute. I swore to myself, often enough, that, someday, I would find a way out.

    By Xian! Was I expected to remain a pawn for however many more centuries I had left to atone for my sins?

    That would not do.

    ***

    As he climbed aboard the ship, Michael wondered who it belonged to and why they wanted to steal the journal.

    There were those, of course, who wanted to stop him from finding the city of the gods¡ªas evidenced by the ambush he¡¯d fallen into recently... but those were usually fanatics who lived in the poorest parts of the city. He doubted any of them could have afforded a boat like this.

    He hid behind some barrels and watched as the bag containing the leaflets was taken into a cabin at the front of the deck.

    ¡°Hey! You!¡±

    He froze as the voice behind him called out. There were footsteps and a hand gripped his shoulder, pulling him to his feet. He was spun around and found himself facing a burly, sour-looking man with a mustache and beard.

    ¡°What are you doing here? You shouldn¡¯t be snooping around! Who are you?¡±

    At a loss for words, he took a step back but hit against a barrel. He gulped.

    ¡°Cat caught your tongue? Fine. Come with me. Captain¡¯ll sort you out, that he will!¡±

    He grabbed Michael¡¯s arm and pulled on it roughly, dragging him toward that same cabin where the leaflets had been taken.

    The man knocked on the door, then opened it after a voice inside yelled: ¡°Come in!¡±

    ¡°Found us a stowaway, Captain.¡±

    The Captain was a large man with long black hair and a nasty scar under his bottom lip. He jumped out of his chair¡ªwhich was a feat for one of his corpulence¡ªand barked:

    ¡°You fool! That¡¯s Vyndrowski! How did he¡ª¡± his eyes darted to meet Michael¡¯s gaze, ¡°¡ªhow did you get on board?¡±

    At first intimidated by the two men, Michael now felt more annoyed than fearful.

    ¡°You have something that belongs to me,¡± he snapped. ¡°I just came to take it back.¡±

    The Captain stared at him, then snorted. ¡°You are mistaken. Those papers do not belong to you. Not anymore, anyway.¡±

    ¡°What is that supposed to mean?¡±

    ¡°Not that it¡¯s any of your business,¡± growled the large man, ¡°but we were commissioned to retrieve them. They must now be delivered to our client. The real question is what shall we do with you?¡±

    Michael¡¯s mind did not register the last words as he was still processing all the other information that had just been dumped on him.

    Until now, he had believed only fanatics could have wanted to sabotage his quest. But this was an entirely different kind of madness. He also noted that never had there been any request from these people that he stop looking for the city. Could they be trying to find its location as well? Did he have competition? Could these be treasure hunters?

    The Captain paced back and forth. The bearded sailor held Michael firmly while he waited for commands.

    ¡°By Thuyn! This was not part of the plan. We¡¯ll let the client handle it. Lock the man up, Grubbs. We¡¯ll deliver him with the journal and be done with it.¡±

    ¡°Aye aye, Captain!¡±

    The bearded sailor grinned as he dragged Michael out and down, into the depths of the ship.

 Part II - Chapter 7

    The staff at the hotel was accommodating, though sadly unable to help. No one seemed to know where Jack Arnett was.

    ¡°He¡¯s been gone for over twenty-four hours,¡± remarked a lady at the front desk. ¡°The police have been asking questions.¡±

    Ed quirked a brow. ¡°Do they suspect foul play?¡±

    ¡°All I know is that they questioned the entire staff.¡±

    ¡°You as well?¡±

    She nodded, looking embarrassed.

    ¡°What types of questions did they ask?¡±

    ¡°Oh, I don¡¯t know if I should...¡±

    He tapped on the badge he had shown her a few minutes ago, reminding her of his status as an imperial representative. That untied her tongue.

    ¡°Well, all the usual stuff, you know... where was I, with who, did I know the man well... they wanted to know if I¡¯d been in his room, too.¡± She blushed and lowered her eyes. ¡°As if I would... I would never!¡±

    ¡°Of course not,¡± said Ed reassuringly. ¡°Do you know if they found anything in the room?¡±

    ¡°I overheard some of the officers,¡± intervened another employee. ¡°They said they couldn¡¯t find anything. They sounded frustrated.¡±

    He could relate to that.

    ¡°Alright. Thank you.¡±

    He was about to leave, but turned to face them again. He pulled out a card and handed it to the woman.

    ¡°Would you mind giving me a call when and if he comes back?¡±

    ¡°Oh, okay. I can do that.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t tell him about me, though. Or anyone else, for that matter. Imperial business requires discretion.¡±

    ¡°Of course,¡± they both agreed.

    He thanked them again and headed out.

    As he wandered through the streets of Joqqal, he wondered what had happened to the historian. Had he been a victim of the city¡¯s unrest? Or had he run?

    Why would he have run, though?

    Had he done something to the mask?

    No, Ed would have noticed that.

    Was he going to do something to the mask?

    If so, what?

    But then, why would he run if he hadn¡¯t done it yet?

    It made little sense to him.

    The only thing that would make sense, he decided, was that he¡¯d run into some trouble and had been captured.

    If there were no clues, though, it could take a long time to find him¡ªassuming he ever was.

    He could be dead, too.

    He wondered if that would be a good or a bad thing.

    Maybe it¡¯d solve his problem.

    Or not.

    ***

    His cough was getting worse. And every time he coughed, he felt the pain in his chest grow.

    He needed to get out of here.

    Soon.

    He wiped the sweat off his forehead and wondered if he was getting a fever on top of everything else. The cold made it a real risk.

    Footsteps echoed in the hall beyond the window.

    While he managed to stand, it produced new pains in his legs that made him grimace.

    Still, he went to the window and saw Victor staring at him.

    ¡°Are you okay, wassab?¡±

    ¡°No, not really...¡± he said with a cough. ¡°I need to get out of here, kid.¡±

    The boy slid his hand between the bars. He held a blanket.

    ¡°Here. I brought you this. To keep you warm.¡±

    Jack grabbed it with gratitude.

    ¡°Oh bless your heart, Victor! You wonderful boy!¡±

    He unfolded it and wrapped it around his shoulders.

    It didn¡¯t completely stop the cold, but it helped.

    ¡°I gotta get out, though,¡± he repeated. ¡°I¡¯ll die if I don¡¯t!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll bring you some food,¡± offered the boy.

    Jack was torn between feelings of frustration¡ªthat Victor was not understanding the urgency of the matter¡ªand gratefulness. He was tempted to chide his benefactor, to try and pressure him... but at the same time, he feared of antagonizing him and losing that one little sliver of hope he still had.

    ¡°Do you know what they are planning to do with me?¡± he asked in a small voice.

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    ¡°I don¡¯t know...¡±

    ¡°Could you find out?¡±

    The boy hesitated.

    ¡°I¡¯ll try,¡± he said finally. ¡°And I¡¯ll bring you some food.¡±

    He added the last bit with a smile, then rushed off.

    Jack swore.

    How was he going to get out of this mess?

    Another coughing bout forced him to sit down.

    His back was aching now.

    He lay down and curled up, trying to fit his entire body under the blanket.

    Where were his friends now, he wondered?

    What were they doing?

    Were they looking for him?

    Was anyone looking for him?

    Did anyone care?

    He sniffed.

    He felt so miserable.

    He had lost track of time, too.

    How long had he been here?

    How much longer would they keep him?

    Were they going to kill him?

    At first, that thought frightened him.

    But then he wondered if it wouldn¡¯t be for the best.

    At least, then, I wouldn¡¯t feel all these pains anymore...

    He closed his eyes, hoping he could sleep... and maybe never wake up.

    But even sleep was denied to him.

    ***

    Though they could tell the winds were still roaring outside from how the trees would bend and dust would fly by the window, they could not hear it.

    They sat and ate in silence, with only soft background music to lull them.

    Susan still had her question to ask. She was hesitant to do so, though, because of her uncle¡¯s reaction when she had tried to broach the topic earlier.

    And yet, that was the sole reason she had returned to this cursed planet... How could she not ask?

    When she finished the food on her plate, she set down her fork and stared at Duncan.

    He glanced at her and sighed.

    ¡°Go ahead. I know you won¡¯t be at peace until you let it out. So let¡¯s hear it.¡±

    She smiled. ¡°Well, it¡¯s just something that has been bugging me for years. I was too young back then for it to trouble me, but now I wonder. My parents weren¡¯t rich. Dad was a mechanic who made minimum wage. Mom was a stay-at-home mom with no income. So... how could they afford a trip off Vuulthur?¡±

    ¡°They came here, didn¡¯t they?¡±

    ¡°They were part of the first wave of settlers. As such, they didn¡¯t have to pay for anything. In fact, my understanding is that this was part of the attraction. Start over from scratch, on a new world, with no more debts, no fees, rent-free for the first five years, and so on and so forth... But you already knew all that. You were there, too.¡±

    Duncan nodded as he finished his own plate. ¡°I was.¡±

    ¡°So... where did they get the money to leave? It would have been super expensive. Especially for settlers who were supposed to stay. I even suspect you all had to sign a contract with specific terms about when you¡¯d be allowed to leave...¡±

    Her uncle made a face. ¡°I know you don¡¯t like this world, Susan, but it never was a prison.¡±

    ¡°So there were no terms?¡±

    ¡°I did not say that.¡±

    ¡°Well?¡±

    He stood, grabbed the plates, and took them away into the kitchen.

    Why is he so reluctant to answer such a simple question? she wondered.

    When he returned, he was carrying a cake.

    ¡°What is this?¡± she blinked.

    ¡°For all the birthdays I missed,¡± he said with a chuckle.

    She rolled her eyes. ¡°That¡¯s silly.¡±

    ¡°Then how about to celebrate your return? Or rather,¡± he lifted a hand to cut off her protest, ¡°to our reunion.¡±

    ¡°That I can go with.¡±

    He cut two pieces and placed one in front of his niece.

    ¡°You still haven¡¯t answered my question,¡± she remarked as she tasted the dessert.

    He shrugged. ¡°There is not much I can say. We never talked about money, nor did I ask. It would not have been proper.¡±

    ¡°What about their lifestyle?¡±

    He quirked a brow. ¡°What about it?¡±

    ¡°That house... it¡¯s not exactly low income. Not to mention they never sold it. I¡¯m not even sure that¡¯d have been enough to cover the price of a ticket¡ªlet alone three¡ªbut you¡¯d think someone with minimum wage would try to sell everything they could to buy their way off the planet... especially something like a house that they weren¡¯t likely to need again.¡±

    ¡°Maybe they expected to come back someday...¡±

    ¡°No. They didn¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°Maybe they kept it for you.¡±

    She was feeling more and more frustrated with the conversation. The more she put her concerns into words, the more questions popped up in her mind. This wasn¡¯t helping at all. In fact, it was making things worse.

    Could Duncan have been right?

    Was she just looking for excuses, and driving herself deeper down a rabbit hole? Was this going to be her life now? Looking for answers and only finding more questions atop of more questions?

    ¡°It still doesn¡¯t explain how they afforded the tickets,¡± she said stubbornly.

    ¡°No, I suppose it doesn¡¯t,¡± he said thoughtfully.

    ¡°Even my inheritance doesn¡¯t make sense. I mean, I¡¯d never questioned it until now. But considering their background, where does it all come from?¡±

    ¡°Like I said, we never discussed such matters.¡±

    ¡°So you don¡¯t know how they got the money?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m afraid not. Sorry, hon. They left a lot of stuff in the house, though. Maybe there are records there that could shed some light on the matter?

    She sighed and nodded.

    ¡°I was hoping I wouldn¡¯t have to dig through all that stuff... Looks like I¡¯ll be staying a little longer than I would have liked.¡±

    She took another bite of the cake.

    ***

    In the forty-three years of his life, Brian Ward had only been on two worlds. Giccurri, where he was born and lived most of his childhood; then Exudia, where his parents immigrated when he was fifteen.

    There had been talks of spending a vacation on Iriaki, but that had never materialized. He only understood why many years later, when contemplating that prospect again for himself and realized how expensive it would be.

    The trip to Qojja was not as costly, but he still wouldn¡¯t have been able to afford it on his cop¡¯s salary. However, because he was going there for an investigation, rather than pleasure, the police department had agreed to cover his expenses.

    It was not something they did lightly, but there were government sponsorships in place with Qojja, which allowed detectives to benefit from significant discounts when on official business.

    Ward had to insist, pointing out all the ways the Department could reduce costs¡ªnot to mention profit from the success of what was bound to become a high-profile case, as all cross-world investigations tended to. Only then had they finally relented.

    After dropping off his luggage at the Royal House, he took a hovercab to the offices of the Moonrise Conglomerate in Joqqal. The appointment had been set up ahead of time, before he¡¯d even left Exudia.

    The man who received him was the CEO of the corporation. His name was Simon Goodrich and he was a smiling, pleasant, bald little man with a mustache.

    They shook hands and sat.

    ¡°How can I be of help, detective?¡±

    ¡°I am investigating the murder of a journalist named John Rosenkrantz. And while he was killed on Exudia, I have reasons to believe it had something to do with your company.¡±

    The man looked surprised. ¡°Why would you think that?¡±

    ¡°He was killed by a professional assassin who was receiving large sums of money from your company.¡±

    ¡°That is most distressing,¡± said Goodrich. ¡°What was the man¡¯s name?¡±

    ¡°Herman Hobbs.¡±

    The CEO turned to his TriVid screen and started typing on the 3D keyboard that floated in front of him.

    ¡°Let¡¯s see... Ah, yes. He was on retainer as a private contractor.¡±

    Ward quirked a brow.

    ¡°Do you have many assassins on retainer?¡± he asked.

    Goodrich grimaced. ¡°We obviously knew nothing of his extraneous activities. While we have branches on all major worlds of the Weld, it is also useful to have private citizens on the ground who can help spread the word about our work. They are also very useful as lookouts...¡±

    ¡°Lookouts?¡±

    ¡°Qojja is well known for the many alien artifacts that have been found here, buried beneath our feet, but we do not have the monopoly on these discoveries. There are more to be made out there. The lookouts help us gather intel and collect items on other worlds, when such are found.¡± He tapped on his screen. ¡°And that was what Hobbs was paid to do.¡±

    Ward wasn¡¯t sure whether or not Goodrich believed that story, but he didn¡¯t. It just sounded way too convenient, and too much like a cover.

    ¡°There is still the matter of the victim¡¯s relationship with Moonrise. Rosenkrantz was investigating your business and interviewed many people who work in your headquarters. I will need to talk with all of them.¡±

    ¡°Of course. Though I will have to get clearance from my bosses.¡±

    Ward frowned. ¡°I thought you owned the company?¡±

    ¡°Oh no! Not at all. I¡¯m the CEO, not the owner.¡±

    ¡°Who is?¡±

    ¡°The Zendaar, obviously.¡±

    ¡°Who are the Zendaar?¡±

    The man gave Ward a smile he did not like one bit. It was the sort of smile you give to a child, or to someone who should be forgiven for his ignorance because he does not have the mental capacity to comprehend the topic at hand.

    ¡°They are the gods of Qojja, of course.¡±

 Part II - Chapter 8

    There were many things Ed liked about Qojja, some of which he had forgotten.

    For instance, every night the stars shone so brightly they reflected on the surface of the ocean. Because of the water¡¯s peculiar pigmentation, the result was a kaleidoscope of colors that sparkled in the air, like a dancing and ever-changing rainbow.

    There was magic here, too. Something that still felt odd to him after all these years... Not that it was uncommon elsewhere, but he had not grown in a world where it held any significant role¡ªquite the opposite, as his people regarded it as hogwash.

    He knew better, of course.

    Admittedly, he had learned this the hard way.

    He sat on a bench at the seafront and watched the lights dance above the silvery foam.

    His thoughts wandered to the stories Cora had told him.

    To pass the time while they waited¡ªhe to visit the cave, she for her boyfriend¡ªthey had entertained each other with tales of various levels of veracity.

    At one point, she had noticed the locket in his pocket and had pointed to it with a quirked brow.

    ¡°There was a woman,¡± he had said hesitantly.

    ¡°Of course there was.¡± She¡¯d smiled and sipped her coffee. ¡°What was her name?¡±

    ¡°Sally,¡± he¡¯d answered.

    ¡°What was she like?¡±

    He¡¯d stared into his cup for a moment.

    ¡°Sweet. Understanding. Loving. With long brown hair, blue eyes, a smile to die for, and the most gentle heart I¡¯ve ever known.¡±

    ¡°What happened to her?¡±

    ¡°Mugged and beaten to death.¡±

    She had placed a hand on his arm.

    ¡°I¡¯m so sorry,¡± she¡¯d said softly.

    ¡°It¡¯s alright,¡± he¡¯d lied. ¡°It happened a long time ago.¡±

    The conversation had then turned to other topics.

    He noted as she spoke that all of her stories were dark and hinted at a life of misery and distress.

    When he¡¯d asked her about this, she had shrugged.

    ¡°I was born in a slum to a janitor father and a junkie mother. My brother died from an easily cured disease, five years ago, because we couldn¡¯t afford a doctor. To top it off, my fianc¨¦ serves a madman at the head of a death cult. So. Not much joy, here, sorry.¡±

    ¡°You talk about those around you, but you say nothing about yourself.¡±

    ¡°Because there is nothing to say.¡±

    ¡°I highly doubt that. We all have something to say. In fact, you¡¯ve already said quite a bit in the few minutes we¡¯ve been chatting.¡±

    ¡°Must be your lucky day...¡±

    He had smiled and encouraged her to say more.

    ¡°If you could be anything you wanted, what would you be?¡±

    ¡°An adventurer,¡± she had said without thinking. ¡°And I don¡¯t mean just here. I mean, I¡¯m sure there are still plenty of things to discover on Qojja¡ªit¡¯s the world that keeps on giving, even after so many millennia... but I dream of space, of stars, of exploring the Weld. I envy those who can travel, out there.¡±

    She¡¯d looked away then, as if ashamed to have admitted how she must have felt about him.

    Sitting on the bench, facing the sea, his gaze turned to the stars in the sky.

    He whispered a few quiet words and chuckled.

    ***

    His feet knew the way well by now. Without asking for his permission, they had taken Paul back to Alyssya¡¯s house.

    He had been wandering through the streets of Joqqal, trying desperately to find some trace of his missing friend... Instead, he¡¯d landed here.

    Staring at the door, he sighed and sat down in his usual spot. He was too tired anyway, so he might as well rest here... at least for a little while.

    He must have fallen asleep, as a loud noise suddenly woke him. He sat up, rubbed his eyes, and looked around.

    The sky had darkened, though it was not quite night yet. People still went about their business. Two men were dragging a cart, but one of them had dropped his end and their charge had fallen off¡ªwhich was the sound he¡¯d heard.

    His eyes moved back to the house, and he froze.

    Alyssya was standing there, back against the wall, smoking a cigarette. Alone.

    Still... he knew she didn¡¯t live on her own. The others were likely within earshot. Was it worth the risk, or should he wait longer?

    Before he could decide, though, the woman with the tattoo threw her smoke to the floor and crushed it with her foot. Then she walked... away from the house.

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    He jumped to his feet and followed her, careful to stay out of sight.

    She was heading toward the seafront, he noted. Knowing the way, he pictured the most likely route and decided to approach her when they¡¯d reach the park. There wouldn¡¯t be too many people there, not at this hour.

    When they came nearer to the spot, he sped up.

    He was near enough, now, that he could almost reach out and touch her.

    ¡°Alyssya,¡± he called out.

    She spun around quicker than he would have thought her capable of. Her eyes grew wide when she saw him, and her lips curled into a grimace of disgust and hate.

    Before he knew it, she was on top of him. Her nails dug deep into his skin, her teeth bit at his shoulder, and her knee barely missed his groin.

    He staggered away, waving his hands in the air.

    ¡°Hey! Calm down! I just want to talk.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll kill you if I see you again!¡± she hissed, then turned and ran off.

    He stared at her as she ran away, then examined his arm and shoulder. She had dug deep enough to draw blood.

    That woman is a menace, he thought to himself.

    Groaning and cursing, he headed back to the hotel.

    If she wanted to play rough, he could do that too...

    Next time, he decided, he¡¯d use magic.

    ***

    Unlike most of my brothers, I have no particular dislike for humans. At times, I have even found their company more enjoyable.

    They are odd creatures, though, I must admit.

    I do not understand how they can achieve anything in such short lifespans.

    They know so little, and yet accomplish so much... spreading through the stars and ruling over millions of worlds.

    I marvel at their perseverance and endurance.

    It became a frequent topic for debate with my fellow conspirators. We had, after all, been tasked to recruit humans¡ªa mission that baffled us all. Rakash was not particularly fond of the species, so why the sudden interest?

    He never shared with us his intentions¡ªnor did we expect him to¡ªso it naturally led to much speculation on our part.

    I remember one conversation, in particular. I was with Raleen that night, when we attempted to assess what it was exactly was expected of us.

    ¡±Trustworthy humans,¡± she had mused. ¡°Is that even a thing? How could a human ever be trusted?¡±

    ¡±The same way one of us would, I suspect.¡±

    ¡±Which isn¡¯t saying much,¡± she had grimaced. ¡°But would they not be less reliable, by their very nature?¡±

    ¡±I¡¯m not sure I follow you...¡±

    She had paused and stared at the night sky as she¡¯d searched for the right words.

    In that instant, as I observed her profile, it had occurred to me how much she reminded me of Rakash¡¯s daughter. I was not certain whether I should have felt pleased or upset about this, but it had troubled me.

    ¡±They have rather short lives, do they not?¡± she had finally asked.

    ¡±They do.¡±

    ¡±And would you not say that they are more emotional than our people?¡±

    In all my years of dealing with the humans, I had to admit I had seen much more displays among them than among our folks. Anger, joy, frustration, love, hatred, affection... Sometimes it felt like they basked in it.

    ¡±I think that is a fair assessment.¡±

    She had nodded and looked at me. ¡°Then tell me this, Evken... would you trust someone prone to sudden bursts of emotion, let alone one about to die? People¡ªno matter the species¡ªcan blurt out secrets when overcome by strong feelings. Our kin is simply less disposed to such bursts.¡±

    There was truth in her words and it troubled me. Because I had met humans in my life that I would say I could trust. Just like there were some of our kin whom I did NOT trust... including Rakash himself.

    ¡±Are you saying you would trust any of us over any of them?¡±

    I could tell from her smile she knew exactly what I had meant. ¡°No... I suppose I would not.¡± She had fallen silent for a moment. ¡°But how then are we to determine whether a person can be trusted?¡±

    That was the crux of our problem, and one that would elude us for the next hundred years.

    But what did become clear fairly quickly was that it was not enough for Rakash to control the senate...

    He also intended to infiltrate and influence human society.

    ***

    He had never been on a boat before and did not enjoy the experience at all. He was sick throughout the entire trip. The sailors who brought him his food snickered and mocked him. He had trouble keeping the food down, too, which further weakened him.

    Standing on the tip of his toes, he could look through a porthole at the sea, but that only made his stomach churn more. So he stayed on his bed, moaning.

    On the third day, Michael heard the crew calling out excitedly and the sound of feet running all over the deck.

    He pulled himself to the window and saw they were nearing a shore. His misery was finally coming to an end!

    When he felt the remnants of his last meal trying to push their way out, he hurried back to the bed and lay down. The feeling eased.

    It took a couple more hours of an agonizing wait before the ship finally moored and stopped rocking.

    The Captain himself came to fetch him, along with two of his men.

    ¡°Come on, hero! Time to go.¡±

    The two sailors grabbed him and dragged him out.

    They tossed him into the back of a glider, and they flew off.

    His senses were slowly coming back, now that he was on dry land again. He wondered where they were taking him, and how he was going to get himself out of this mess.

    ¡°Where are we going?¡±

    One of the heavies punched him in the stomach.

    ¡°Keep your mouth shut,¡± he grunted.

    Michael doubled over and cursed.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± said the Captain, who was sitting in the front, ¡°you¡¯ll find out soon enough.¡±

    When the glider finally stopped, he saw they had gone outside of the city and parked at the top of a hill overlooking the port. In the distance, he could see the boat he had been stuck on, and for a brief moment he was happy... it wasn¡¯t a dream, he was really off of that wretched thing.

    He was pushed out of the vehicle and fell to the ground with a thud.

    ¡°What is this?¡± he heard a new voice ask.

    Glancing up, he saw a tall dark-skinned man wearing a suit and tie, looking from him to the Captain.

    ¡°He sneaked onto my ship...¡±

    ¡°This is highly irregular.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s what I thought, too.¡±

    ¡°So you brought him to me?¡±

    ¡°Wasn¡¯t my call to make!¡± barked the Captain defensively.

    ¡°Nor is it mine,¡± said the other with an annoyed click of the tongue. ¡°Do you at least have the journal?¡±

    ¡°Of course.¡±

    One of the sailors got the bag from the glider and gave it to the Captain, who in turn handed it to the stranger.

    The bag was opened, and its contents inspected.

    ¡°Very good.¡± He tossed credit tokens at the Captain. ¡°There¡¯s your payment.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s fifty short!¡± protested the Captain.

    The stranger pointed at Michael. ¡°You really want to argue with me?¡±

    The Captain grumbled under his breath and put the credits away.

    ¡°I¡¯d say good doing business with you, but I would be lying.¡±

    He and his men went back into the glider and left, leaving Michael with the stranger.

    ¡°Ungrateful bastard,¡± muttered the man. His gaze turned back to the archaeologist. ¡°Now, what am I going to do with you?¡±

    ¡°You could just let me go...¡± suggested the prisoner.

    ¡°Tempting. But no can do. That would get me into trouble, I suspect. A lot of trouble. Better take you with me.¡±

    He grabbed Michael¡¯s arm and pulled him up, then guided him to another glider that was parked out of sight, behind some trees. He pushed him into the back.

    ¡°Why do you want those leaflets? They have no value...¡± he tried.

    The man sat at the front and tapped a destination on the vehicle¡¯s onboard TriVid screen¡ªthough Michael could not read it from his position.

    ¡°I couldn¡¯t care less about them. Just following orders.¡± The man turned to look at Michael and grinned. ¡°As for no value, I doubt it, considering how well I¡¯m being paid. Now sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride. It¡¯ll be a few hours before we get there...¡±

    So this was just another intermediary.

    He was starting to feel like a sack of potatoes, being constantly tossed about...

    And he did not enjoy that one bit either.

 Part II - Chapter 9

    With still no sign of his target, Ed had done some research on the man. What he¡¯d found had troubled him.

    Jack Arnett was a noted and respected historian who had been based on Qojja for three years now. At first, he had studied the planet¡¯s history... but as time passed, he had become increasingly more focused on the mask. Though no one spoke of obsession, it was clearly implied by the reports he had read. Worse, Arnett had voiced his conviction the artifact needed to be removed so it could be better studied and, perhaps, understood.

    Though many argued against this proposition¡ªincluding his own friend and associate William Van Kerwen¡ªArnett¡¯s supervisors continued to support him. Likely because media attention was helping them obtain better funds.

    Ed headed back to the coffee shop as he mulled over all these revelations, trying to understand what might have been going through the historian¡¯s head. Why did he really want the mask? And who was he working for? Was this some sort of plot? No matter how he looked at it, though, he could not figure out either who could be behind this, or what their motive could be.

    There was one possibility, of course, but it was the most unlikely scenario.

    He opened the door to the coffee shop and immediately saw Cora sitting at a table in a corner. She looked up and gestured for him to join her. He smiled. He had guessed she would be here.

    ¡°The most incredible thing happened to me last night,¡± she said excitedly. He was happy to see her like this¡ªshe had seemed so sad and depressed before.

    ¡°Oh?¡± he asked as he motioned for a server.

    She waited for him to place his order before she went on.

    ¡°I had a dream... I never dream! But it¡¯s not just that. It¡¯s also what I dreamed about. I mean... I don¡¯t understand it, but... You remember what I told you yesterday? How I want to be an adventurer? Well, I was! I mean... not really, obviously, although it felt real... incredibly real. I was in a spaceship and traveled from star to star. I was looking for something...¡± She frowned. ¡°I can¡¯t remember what it was, but it felt important. But on every planet, I met with resistance, and I would get into these insane fights... which I¡¯d always win, of course!¡± She laughed. ¡°It was crazy! And it felt so real! How is this possible?¡±

    ¡°Active imagination?¡± suggested Ed as his cup arrived.

    ¡°Hardly,¡± she snorted.

    ¡°You should allow yourself to be inspired by this.¡±

    ¡°How do you mean?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know... Be bold?¡±

    She looked skeptical.

    He insisted: ¡°No matter how desperate things look, we always have choices we can make. It is easy to not make any¡ªeasiest thing in the world. Sit back and just watch as everything around you crumbles. But there¡¯s always a way out. If you put your mind to it. And work for it.¡± He paused when the waitress came back with his cup, and waited for her to leave before he continued. ¡°That dream of yours¡ªyour life as an adventurer¡ªwas it easy?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± she admitted. ¡°It was exhausting. Kept me on my toes. Did a lot of running. And fighting.¡±

    He took a small sip from his cup and smiled contentedly.

    ¡°So do you think you could become an adventurer without putting any effort into changing your life?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s just a fantasy,¡± she said with a meek voice. ¡°I don¡¯t actually want to be like that...¡±

    ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter. Whatever you want to be will require work. Everything does. But it¡¯s a decision you¡¯ll have to make for yourself. The real question is: do you want to change, or not?¡±

    ¡°Of course I do!¡±

    ¡°Then it¡¯s settled,¡± he smiled.

    She blinked. ¡°It is?¡± There was a pause as she thought this through. ¡°I guess it is, then.¡±

    Ed drank his coffee and marveled, once again, at the delicacy of its taste.

    ***

    If there was one thing on Vuulthur that Susan hated more than the wind and the smell, it was the rain. It was rare, but always brutal.

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    That week, it rained two days in a row. She stayed in the house, upset and moody.

    Since she was stuck indoors, she took the time to go through all the boxes that had been left behind.

    All the more important stuff had moved with them, so there was not much there of interest. But the more she read, the more she wondered why her parents had left.

    They had a whole life here. With friends, family, work... Sure, it wasn¡¯t a high-paying position, but her father enjoyed it nonetheless. His work environment also seemed to have been good, from the little correspondence she found. Furthermore, as early settlers, they enjoyed many perks, including free services and significant discounts¡ªwhich made their expensive departure all the more inexplicable.

    She suddenly realized they had also left in a hurry. It was coming back to her now. Why she had forgotten this, she did not know¡ªperhaps because she couldn¡¯t wait to get off the planet herself? It hadn¡¯t seemed such a big deal to her at the time, quite the contrary.

    But put back into perspective, none of it made sense.

    She threw the last stack of papers back into a box, annoyed and frustrated.

    The more she looked, the less she understood.

    She went back into her father¡¯s old office and asked the house¡¯s AI to activate the TriVid screen.

    The rain may keep her here, but there were other ways she could investigate.

    If her uncle didn¡¯t know the answers¡ªor didn¡¯t want to give them to her¡ªshe¡¯d seek out all the people who knew her parents. One of them had to know something.

    She didn¡¯t care how long it¡¯d take her, she¡¯d get to the bottom of this...

    Well, that wasn¡¯t entirely true. She did care because the sooner she got off this planet, the better. But regardless, she would not botch this up.

    After a few minutes of searching, she¡¯d located a dozen acquaintances and determined that five others had moved to another city, while three had left the planet entirely, and two had died.

    All the names were transferred into her wristpad, along with the corresponding addresses and holo IDs.

    She browsed through them quickly, and selected the name that sounded the most familiar to her. With a tap on the pad, she initiated the call on her holovisor.

    ¡°Sheila Evans?¡±

    ¡°It is I.¡±

    The blonde who answered the call was studying her with curiosity, likely trying to determine whether this was someone she knew or yet another salesperson attempting to sell her some random product she presumably ¡®needed.¡¯

    ¡°I don¡¯t know if you¡¯ll remember me, but... I¡¯m Susan Caine. You used to know my parents. David and Wilma Caine.¡±

    ¡°Oh, yes!¡± The woman¡¯s face lit up. ¡°Little Suzie! Oh, my! You¡¯re all grown up, now, aren¡¯t you?¡±

    Susan smiled. ¡°It¡¯s been a long time. How are you?¡±

    ¡°Oh, dear! You wouldn¡¯t believe it! We¡¯ve had a horrible season. Too much rain lately. Just terrible. It¡¯s making it impossible to work in the fields. I keep telling Barry that we should¡ª¡±

    She¡¯d forgotten how much Sheila liked to talk and regretted asking her that question. She should have gone straight to the point. Still, it was nice to see a familiar face.

    ¡°¡ªthe winds, as you¡¯ll remember. But oh my! Here I am rambling on and on about all these silly little things... Tell me about you, Suzie! How are things with you? What world are you on now?¡±

    She was concerned that if she told her the truth, Sheila would invite her¡ªor, worse, drop for a visit¡ªbut she couldn¡¯t get herself to lie.

    ¡°Actually, I¡¯m here. On Vuulthur. In our old house...¡±

    ¡°Oh, dear! Poor thing! It must be dreadfully boring out there all on your lonesome, especially with this dreary weather... I should come over to keep you company!¡±

    ¡°No!¡± she let out in a panic. ¡°I mean, it¡¯s okay. I have a lot to do. It¡¯s keeping me busy, going through all of dad¡¯s stuff... well, what¡¯s still here anyway. Speaking of which, I wanted to ask you something.¡±

    ¡°Oh, but of course! What is it, dear?¡±

    ¡°Do you know why my parents left?¡±

    The woman blinked. ¡°What do you mean, why?¡±

    ¡°Well, I... I don¡¯t know if you know this, but I never liked it here. I couldn¡¯t wait to leave. So I always assumed my parents had felt the same. But now, I¡¯m not so sure anymore.¡±

    ¡°Oh no, dear. They loved it here! Both of them did.¡±

    ¡°Then why did they leave?¡±

    ¡°Because of the curse, of course.¡±

    ***

    When the detective had voiced his skepticism, the man had assured him it was not a matter of belief, but of certainty.

    ¡°Our gods live amongst us. They walk amongst us. They breathe the same air and eat the same food. Their reality can not be denied, for it is also our reality.¡±

    As Ward walked through the crowded streets, observing the people around him, he wondered if all of them shared that same belief.

    He knew magic was real, of course, and he knew there were supernatural beings out there... it was, after all, common knowledge. But gods? That was just taking things too far.

    Religion had never appealed to him. The concept of an all-powerful, all-knowing being¡ªlet alone in multiple copies¡ªwas something he could not wrap his mind around. It did not make any kind of sense to him. And despite all the other unnatural stuff that was quite real, most people had similar misgivings when it came to deities.

    It was an odd thing to be in a place now where not believing in gods was likely regarded as the exception, rather than the rule. Where such incredulity might mark you as a heretic, a pariah...

    He would have to be careful.

    With a few taps on his wristpad, Ward brought up the names of the people he needed to talk to. As they scrolled on his retina, he wondered if he shouldn¡¯t add the Zendaar to the list. Gods or not, if they were in charge¡ªand considering all the shady dealings Moonrise had been involved in¡ªhe¡¯d have to have a chat with them at some point. And how many of them were there exactly?

    He had been so surprised by the CEO¡¯s words he hadn¡¯t thought to ask more about these so-called gods. But perhaps that was for the best. If the man was a fanatic, he might not have taken lightly to his faith being questioned.

    That thought annoyed him. Why should he care whether the man was offended or not? It wasn¡¯t his job to walk on eggs. His job was to get answers, no matter what. And if that meant a few bruised egos, so be it.

    He could ask the man the next time he saw him, though he suspected he could find other ways to obtain the information.

    As he sorted the names in the order he¡¯d like to interview them, he walked into the hall of his hotel. He blinked the display off and headed into the bar.

    He sat at the counter and ordered a drink.

 Part II - Chapter 10

    He had to wait ten hours before another opportunity presented itself, all the while cursing at his own idiocy. So much time wasted...

    Well, at least he had not approached her at her home, so Paul still had that advantage.

    He first saw her go in, but about an hour later, she headed back out and he followed her.

    It was the afternoon, so the streets were more crowded this time. It would be trickier to pull this off under such conditions.

    Also, she was going in a different direction. So he¡¯d have to find another spot.

    There were plenty of dark alleys, though, that could serve his purpose.

    He was careful to keep his distance so as not to spook her. But when he felt the time was right, he spoke the Words that would bind her and quickened his pace.

    She froze and gasped.

    ¡°What¡ª?¡±

    He grabbed her by the waist and carried her into a nearby alley. There was no one around, and hopefully they would remain undisturbed here.

    She did not¡ªor, rather, could not fight him off. His spell made it impossible for her to move her hands or feet. It also muffled her voice without muting her completely¡ªhe didn¡¯t want her to scream, but he needed her to answer questions.

    While the spell was effective, it was also taxing and very limited. He knew he¡¯d only have ten minutes, at most, before it wore off. By then, he¡¯d have to be far enough from her to avoid getting clawed and bit.

    ¡°What have you done to me?¡± she hissed. ¡°I swear, I¡¯m gonna kill you!¡±

    ¡°Not before we have a little chat,¡± he said calmly as he set her down and took a step back. ¡°Now, let¡¯s try this again. I am looking for my mother, and I¡¯ve been told that you know her.¡±

    The woman squinted at him. ¡°Let me go, and I¡¯ll slit your throat!¡±

    ¡°Now, now, let¡¯s be civil. I just want answers. Once I have them, I¡¯ll release you, and you¡¯ll never see me again.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know who you are,¡± she spat. ¡°Filthy offworlder.¡±

    ¡°See, that¡¯s the problem right there. I am not, in fact, an offworlder. I was born on Qojja.¡±

    Alyssya stared at him. ¡°You lie!¡±

    ¡°I do not. I was born in Sidut er¡¯Nadiv on the fifth day of October, thirty-two years ago. I was told you were there, on that day, and that you knew my mother.¡±

    The woman¡¯s eyes grew wide. ¡°That¡¯s... not possible. It can¡¯t be!¡±

    Hope flared in Paul¡¯s heart. ¡°So you do know her! Tell me her name!¡±

    ¡°I cannot,¡± she said, her expression closing up.

    ¡°Why?¡±

    His time was running out... he had to make her talk.

    ¡°She would punish me again...¡±

    ¡°Punish you? Why? How? Who is she? Tell me, damn it!¡±

    Alyssya looked away.

    ¡°If what you say is true, then your mother is none other than the goddess Raduul.¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    She looked at him again, her expression fierce.

    ¡°She requested that I drown you, on that day, right after you were born. I was young, then. And weak. I could not find the strength in me to do it. It is my greatest shame.¡± There was a hint of disgust in her voice. ¡°So I gave you to a stranger and claimed to my mistress I had done the deed.¡±

    Paul did not know what to make of all this. It all felt like crazy talk to him. A goddess? He had expected something odd to explain his powers, maybe something like a magician... He had never thought of a goddess. Was that even possible?

    ¡°But she read the truth in me,¡± continued Alyssya. ¡°She was greatly displeased¡ªand rightfully so. It was she who, as punishment, made my insides burn¡ªas still they do to this day.¡±

    ¡°Take me to her,¡± he said.

    ¡°That I cannot do!¡±

    ¡°Why not?¡±

    ¡°She no longer is my mistress. Fire is my god, now. To him, I will gladly take you.¡± A fierce appetite burned in her eyes. ¡°Or perhaps I should do her bidding now... Perhaps the goddess would forgive me then, and appease the Flames that burn inside of me.¡±

    He realized his hold on her was weakening, and wondered if she sensed this as well.

    ¡°Where can I find her?¡± he asked.

    ¡°She is a goddess. Where do you think?¡±

    ¡°I have no time for riddles, woman!¡±

    ¡°Her power is fed through the praise of those who adore her. She lives where she thrives¡ªwithin the Temple of Raduul. The very place of your birth...¡±

    ¡°Sidut er¡¯Nadiv!¡±

    She grinned.

    He noticed some of her fingers were moving. Soon, she would be free.

    Without another word, he turned and hurried out of the alley, and disappeared into the crowd.

    ***

    Nothing was happening.

    Had he overreacted?

    Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    Sure, he¡¯d helped Cora, and that had felt good, but did it justify all the trouble he had gone to?

    Ed was sitting at the counter of his hotel¡¯s bar, sipping from a glass of whiskey. It warmed him up inside and helped him endure the nerve-racking wait.

    Part of him still wanted to find Jack and have a chat with the guy. Another part kept yelling he was wasting his time. There was nothing to see here. Move on, already...

    A man sat at the counter next to him. He glanced at him distractedly and froze.

    Ward!

    Of all the places on Joqqal...

    He looked back at his glass. Took a deep breath. It was okay. The detective wouldn¡¯t recognize him. He had no reason to worry.

    Still, he figured it wouldn¡¯t hurt to sit somewhere else.

    He stood and turned around...

    ¡°Hey!¡±

    Ed spun to face the detective.

    ¡°Yes?¡±

    Ward looked like something was troubling him.

    ¡°Is this your first time on Qojja?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± he said. He thought if he kept his answers short, he might be able to leave more quickly.

    ¡°What is it with this world? Are they all insane?¡±

    He frowned. ¡°I... I¡¯m not sure I follow?¡±

    ¡°This nonsense about the Zendaar... about gods! Do they all believe this?¡±

    Ed stared at Ward. Sat back down.

    ¡°The Zendaar are real,¡± he said slowly. ¡°But they are no gods. They are just... a different species, I suppose you could say.¡±

    ¡°Aliens?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± he chuckled. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t go that far. More like magical beings, I suppose.¡±

    ¡°You seem to know a lot about them, for a tourist.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve been here a few times before,¡± said the younger man with a dismissive gesture. ¡°You pick up on things after a while.¡±

    The detective drank from his glass, then offered his hand.

    ¡°Brian Ward.¡±

    Ed shook it. ¡°Ed Gyldenstierne. Now, if you¡¯ll excuse me...¡± he said as he stood again.

    Ward grabbed him by the shoulder, stopping his motion.

    ¡°Wait! Your name is Gyldenstierne?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    Ward stared at him.

    ¡°Have you ever heard of John Rosenkrantz?¡±

    Though he did not show it, Ed tensed. The conversation was headed in a direction he would have preferred to avoid.

    ¡°Afraid not.¡±

    ¡°That name doesn¡¯t ring any bells?¡±

    ¡°Should it?¡±

    The detective crossed his arms and looked at the man in disbelief.

    ¡°How about William Shakespeare? Ever heard of him?¡±

    Oh, great! thought Ed. He had to be a connoisseur of sixteenth-century Erethian literature. Just perfect.

    ¡°Is that a friend of yours?¡± he asked out loud, feigning ignorance.

    Ward opened his mouth, but his response was cut short by a loud explosion.

    Both of them were thrown to the floor as a wall cracked and part of the ceiling collapsed.

    ***

    They brought him meals every once in a while, though he could not have said how often. The window in his cell gave into a hall, so he could not see the outside world or count the rises of the sun.

    The boy would come and give him extra food¡ªwhich helped, as he always felt hungry, despite the meals.

    He was also getting weaker and sicker. He coughed almost all the time now, had constant headaches, and the pains inside his body were spreading¡ªhe could feel it.

    How much time did he have left?

    Were they just going to wait for him to die?

    Had that been their plan all along?

    But then, why bother feeding him?

    Or were they feeding him poison?

    ¡°Wassab?¡±

    He looked up. Victor was back, waving an apple through the bars of the window.

    Jack stood from his cot and stumbled to the boy.

    He grabbed the fruit and smiled a little.

    ¡°Thank you, kid. Any news?¡±

    ¡°They fall quiet when I¡¯m around...¡±

    ¡°Can¡¯t you spy?¡±

    ¡°That would not be right, wassab.¡±

    He wanted to yell at the boy but held back.

    ¡°I need to get out of here, Victor!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, but I don¡¯t know what to do...¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s okay. It¡ª¡± He coughed. ¡°¡ªdoesn¡¯t matter.¡±

    He turned back toward the cot. As he walked, his legs gave way under him, and he fell to the ground, the apple rolling out of his open hand.

    ¡°Wassab!¡±

    He felt so bad right now... It was like his entire strength had been sucked out of him. Jack would have answered the boy, but he just didn¡¯t have the strength. He closed his eyes so he¡¯d stop seeing the dancing lights.

    There was the sound of running feet moving away, then silence.

    He breathed heavily, contemplating his life and his soon-to-be death.

    Would anyone mourn him?

    He felt so small, so insignificant...

    At least the pain would soon fade.

    He heard running feet again, this time coming closer. They stopped nearby. Then came the sound of a key unlocking a door, then more running.

    Little hands grabbed his shoulder and shook it.

    ¡°Wassab? Wassab! You hear me?¡±

    He tried to open his eyes, but it was difficult.

    There was worry, though, in that voice. Somehow, this gave him the strength he needed. Knowing someone still cared was a powerful thing.

    His eyes fluttered open, and he saw Victor staring at him with a concerned expression.

    ¡°Hello, kid.¡± He tried to smile. ¡°I don¡¯t think I have much time left in me...¡±

    Victor glanced at the hall, then back at Jack.

    ¡°Come. If you can walk, I¡¯ll try to get you out.¡±

    Hope came back to him in a rush. That, too, gave him strength.

    ¡°You could do that?¡± he asked, afraid of being hit with a negative answer.

    ¡°Yes, wassab. Come. Lean on me.¡±

    The boy tried to pull him up. Jack pushed up and got back on his feet. With Victor¡¯s help, he stepped out of the cell.

    They turned to the right and followed the corridor until they reached two doors. There were voices behind one of them.

    Victor put a finger in front of his lips, then quietly opened the second door and peeked through the opening.

    Seeing the coast was clear, he helped Jack go through.

    They were in a living room with a large TriVid screen, a couch, a table, and a desk in the back.

    The boy led him toward a door on the other side. There were windows here, too, though these gave on the street. Jack could tell now it was dark outside.

    They reached the door and walked out of the house.

    ***

    With every call she made, Susan learned more about the curse. None of her parents¡¯ friends seemed to know the full story... but between them, they had enough bits and pieces that she could reconstruct what had happened.

    About a year before they¡¯d left Vuulthur, Wilma Caine began to forget things. It was also difficult for her to maintain her focus, as she would easily grow distracted by the littlest details. It was nothing troubling, at first, but it grew worse over time.

    ¡°When she once forgot to turn off the stove,¡± said Lucy Drake¡ªa friend of her mother¡¯s, ¡°and nearly burned down the house, David took her to the hospital.¡±

    But since they couldn¡¯t tell what was causing her condition, it was officially diagnosed as a curse.

    ¡°Traces of magic were also found in her system,¡± remarked Trent Little¡ªa work colleague of her father¡¯s, ¡°which reinforced their conviction.¡±

    They also determined the properties of Vuulthuric air were only exacerbating the problem and recommended leaving the planet. It would significantly slow down the curse¡¯s expansion, possibly even cure it.

    She did recall her mother having memory lapses, but Susan had had no idea how serious her state had been. Her parents had kept this from her, possibly to shield her. And once they had left, things had gotten better, so they no longer had a reason to tell her about that whole mess.

    It still was disconcerting, though.

    And while it did explain the quick departure from the planet, she still did not know how they could have afforded those tickets.

    She parked her glider in front of the bank and headed in.

    If she couldn¡¯t get answers from her parents¡¯ friends, maybe she could from their old bank account.

    The branch manager was surprised by her request.

    ¡°The account was closed shortly after they died, Miss Caine. I believe the funds were transferred to your own account as per your parents¡¯ will?¡±

    She was well aware of this. It had been a rather large amount, too, as her parents had earned well after leaving this damned world. Well enough that Susan could now live comfortably... if she hadn¡¯t been so obsessed with the truth. So, instead, she was spending the money on expensive trips across the Weld.

    ¡°Yes, of course, but it¡¯s not the money I¡¯m looking for, but a list of transactions made before they left Vuulthur. I was hoping to find bank statements in the boxes that were left at our house, but I found none. No luck either on our old TriVid system. So I was hoping you might have kept records?¡±

    ¡°That is a most unusual request. That¡¯s confidential information. We do not normally release¡ª¡±

    ¡°You said it yourself, I was their sole heir. I have all the proper authorizations. I can give you proof if needed.¡±

    She started tapping on her wristpad.

    ¡°No, no, it¡¯s not that,¡± said the manager. ¡°It¡¯s just... I¡¯m not certain we keep those types of records after an account is terminated.¡±

    ¡°There has to be something.¡±

    The man pondered this for a moment.

    ¡°I will have to inquire. Please leave me your holo ID, and I will get back to you on this.¡±

    ¡°Very well.¡±

    She gave him her contact information, then decided to go have another chat with her uncle.

 Part II - Chapter 11

    Our people have always been wealthy. I am not sure why. My understanding is that it has to do with the land our city was built on. Though I suspect there is more to this.

    And while all of us share in this fortune, Rakash is¡ªwith no doubt¡ªthe wealthiest amongst us.

    Over the years that followed, we recruited many humans. And while trust was often required, in some cases it would be replaced by loyalty.

    The difference being, of course, that loyalty can be bought.

    Rakash was very careful in keeping track of which human fell under which category. For he would use them in different capacities.

    It did not take long for corruption to run rampant within the human government itself, and this was in no small part due to our own meddling.

    I find no pride in this... but I have learned to live with it.

    ¡±What is the point of all this?¡± once asked Rosdak, his voice filled with exasperation. ¡°Why would our people ever need the humans for anything?¡±

    ¡±They have qualities,¡± I ventured evasively.

    ¡±I know you like them, but that¡¯s pushing it...¡±

    ¡±They do rule over thousands of worlds,¡± I pointed out.

    ¡±And how does that help us?¡±

    ¡±My point is: if they can do that, does it not indicate some level of competence?¡±

    Rosdak snorted. ¡°All it really proves is that they are lucky. Have you not noticed how weak they are?¡±

    I had learned a long time ago that it was pointless to argue with those of my brothers who held such strong opinions about the humans. They would not change their minds, no matter what. I suspected that even if one of the humans one day saved his life, he still would think them inferior and not worthy of his time.

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    ¡±Either way,¡± I said, ¡°it matters not what we think. We must do as we are told.¡±

    ¡±I am well aware of it. But that does not mean we cannot wonder about the reasons for all this nonsense.¡±

    ¡±If you are so curious, why not ask Rakash?¡±

    It was a low blow, and I regretted saying it as soon as the words came out of my mouth. But I was tired of the conversation, and just wanted it to end.

    My retort had the intended effect, though Rosdak threw me a hurt look which made me feel even more guilty.

    But I did not apologize.

    Rakash had taught me better.

    ***

    That night, they stopped at a hotel.

    It was strange because despite being a prisoner, Michael¡¯s captor¡ªhis name was Christopher¡ªtreated him more like a travel companion.

    He wondered why he hadn¡¯t tried to escape. Considering the circumstances, it would likely be easy. Christopher had even booked them two separate rooms.

    So Michael resolved to try, that night, to run away.

    He waited until he couldn¡¯t hear any sounds outside¡ªeveryone was asleep. It was near midnight when he got out of his bed¡ªhe hadn¡¯t even bothered to lie under the sheets¡ªand quietly opened the door... or tried.

    It just wouldn¡¯t move, no matter how much he tapped on the release button. Had Christopher locked him in?

    He went to the window and tried to open that, but it wouldn¡¯t budge.

    It was the strangest thing...

    Very well then, time for some radical action.

    He headed to the desk and activated the mini TriVid screen. He requested the front desk.

    There was a buzz, followed by a fuzz, then silence.

    Michael hit the screen out of rage.

    He went into the bathroom and tried to open the window there, but it wouldn¡¯t budge either.

    It had to be magic.

    There was no other way he could have been cut off so thoroughly.

    It would also explain why his captor was so carefree.

    He went through the brochures on the desk, which at least gave him a hint where they were.

    On a completely different continent, that was where!

    So even if he escaped, how the heck would he get back?

    He had to admit, though, that a part of him was very curious to find out who wanted the journal so badly.

    Maybe he should just let things play out.

    So far, nobody had hurt him, so maybe it wasn¡¯t so bad. Maybe he could make a deal with whoever was behind all this.

    After all, he didn¡¯t want to keep the journal. He just wanted to read it so he could find Ahuaxa.

    How much time do I have left before that ultimatum ends? he wondered.

    He went back to the bed. This time, he slipped under the sheets and closed his eyes. Might as well get some sleep.

    In the morning, he waited for the door to open, then followed Christopher into the glider.

    ¡°You have me spellbound, don¡¯t you?¡± he asked.

    ¡°I was wondering when you¡¯d notice,¡± said his captor with a chuckle. ¡°I hope you won¡¯t hold it against me. Nothing personal. I¡¯d just rather not take any chances.¡±

    Michael shrugged and turned to watch the landscape as they flew through the countryside.

 Part II - Chapter 12

    The bar had not been as badly hit as the lobby.

    After helping Ward back up to his feet, they both hurried to help dig survivors out of the rubble.

    People were screaming and scurrying all around. Others were coming from outside to help as well.

    It was chaos.

    Ed lifted a chunk of plaster that had fallen from the ceiling and pulled a woman up whose legs had been crushed. She cried as he carried her to one of the makeshift beds authorities had just finished setting up.

    Medics arrived, but Ed continued to help with the search and rescue.

    Until his holovisor beeped.

    Deciding he could use a break, he stepped into a quieter part of the hotel to take the call. The face of one of the guards from the cave appeared on his retina.

    ¡°Mr. Gyldenstierne... did you still want to talk to that Jack Arnett guy?¡±

    ¡°Yes, of course! Is he back?¡±

    ¡°Not here, not yet. But he¡¯s been seen heading out of town.¡±

    Ed frowned. That was strange. Why would he disappear, then reappear only to leave?

    ¡°Do you know in which direction he went?¡±

    The other man nodded. ¡°The southern road, I¡¯m told.¡±

    ¡°Alright. Thank you. Much appreciated.¡±

    ¡°Always happy to help the Weld,¡± said the guard with a smile.

    After closing the connection, Ed went back into the lobby.

    There were a lot more people there now, helping with the wounded. He saw Ward further away, busy helping some children find their mother.

    He might as well go. Losing a lead on Jack was not an option. He¡¯d been waiting too long. Maybe there was nothing to it, but he had to make sure.

    Ed hurried out and turned toward the south.

    There were only four roads out of the city, one in each of the four cardinal directions. The southern one headed toward the mountains, though there were many other cities and small villages on the way there.

    Depending on where Jack was going, it could be a long trip with plenty of places where he could lose track of him.

    He quickened his pace, cursing himself for not asking the guard how old that information was. It would have helped to know how much of a headstart the historian had on him.

    As he turned at a corner, he stopped short.

    In the middle of the crowded street, a tall, proud woman walked in his general direction. She wore a black skin-tight dress that enhanced her curves.

    He stared at her.

    She noticed and scowled at him.

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    ¡°Well?¡± she lashed out. ¡°Do you like what you see, little man?¡±

    He offered her a sad smile... then, not saying word, walked past her and continued southward without looking back.

    He remembered her, though, and his heart filled with sorrow.

    ***

    Lying in his bed, he stared at the ceiling, thinking about the things he¡¯d learned.

    A goddess, pah!

    That was rubbish.

    She was a fanatic, how could he believe anything that woman said?

    More likely, his mother was a priestess.

    Still, the temple was a good lead. If he really was born there, it would explain why he had found no traces of his birth at the village¡¯s hospital¡ªhe had consulted their records via TriVid before coming to Qojja.

    There was no way around it.

    He¡¯d have to go to Sidut er¡¯Nadiv and see for himself.

    A loud explosion shook the bed under him.

    He jumped to his feet and looked through the window.

    A billow of smoke rose in the distance.

    He turned the TriVid on.

    ¡°¡ªan explosion at the Royal House Hotel in downtown Joqqal. There are reports of five dead and at least twenty wounded. This is a developing story, and we expect these numbers to increase as more bodies are found.¡±

    Paul frowned as he sat on the edge of his bed to watch the footage.

    It showed close-ups of a reporter at the entrance of the hotel, with smoke still coming from the building behind him. People were running in and out¡ªincluding medics and soldiers.

    ¡°Breaking news! The Brothers of Thuyn have just claimed responsibility for the bombing. Like many other religious entities on Qojja, the followers of Thuyn have a strong anti-foreigner stance. This new development comes as a surprise, however, as they had never used violence until now¡ªcontrary to other sects, such as the Sons of the Flame.¡±

    Pictures of known members of the Brotherhood were displayed while the man talked. The footage switched back to the hotel¡ªthis time the camera was inside, showing the rubble and emergency units still busy helping victims.

    ¡°Fragments of the explosive have been found. The device was apparently in a bag that had been left under a seat in the lobby¡ª¡±

    The news anchor interrupted the reporter.

    ¡°We have just heard from the government. There will be a curfew starting tonight, at seven. It will be maintained until further notice. An official will speak to the population in one hour¡ª¡±

    Paul stood and switched off the TriVid screen. He looked at the window¡ªwhere smoke could still be seen in the distance.

    His fists tightened as he walked toward the door.

    He would go there and see if he could help.

    ***

    The taste of her last victim still lingered on her tongue as Thyria strode naked through her room.

    She considered her dresses and picked one¡ªblack and short¡ªthat she hadn¡¯t worn in years.

    As she tossed it on, she wondered how many more she¡¯d have to feed on before her sins would be atoned... And how would she know? Or was she supposed to keep doing this for all of eternity?

    That thought made her wrinkle her nose in disgust.

    Humans tasted almost as bad as they smelled, she remarked to herself.

    So far, she¡¯d been lucky. None of her peers had heard of her actions. They were bound to find out, though, sooner or later.

    It was ridiculous.

    She had once been shunned and disgraced for helping humans, yet now they would scold her for killing them!

    They should make up their minds already.

    Either way, she would not allow her resolve to falter. She didn¡¯t care anymore. If she had survived their disapproval then, she could survive it now. At least her conscience would be at peace.

    Even as this thought occurred, she realized she needed her kin to find out. That would be the moment of her atonement.

    Pleased with this discovery, and feeling somewhat liberated, she headed out to search for another victim.

    She would not hide anymore.

    Why bother? If she wanted to be noticed, she might as well be open about her transgressions.

    Still, she didn¡¯t want to create a panic among the humans. That would serve no purpose. They could even get funny ideas... like try to hunt her down. That wouldn¡¯t do. Wouldn¡¯t do at all.

    She¡¯d have to strike the right balance... between discretion and obviousness. Though what was obvious to her people was not always so to the humans¡ªwhich would serve her purposes.

    The streets of Joqqal were crowded as she walked resolutely toward the sea, her head held high. Heads turned as she passed, but she paid them no heed.

    Her senses flared as she saw one man, in particular, standing still in the crowd and staring at her.

    It annoyed her more than it should have, so she scowled back.

    ¡°Well?¡± she lashed out. ¡°Do you like what you see, little man?¡±

    He offered her a sad smile... then, not saying a word, walked past her without a single look back.

    She watched him go with mounting unease.

    Why was she feeling like this?

    The only time she had ever felt that way...

    Her eyes grew wide as the man disappeared into the crowd.

 Part II - Chapter 13

    The nauseating stench of sulfur sank into her skin and caught in her throat. It made her stomach churn as she stepped out of the glider.

    Though scientists insisted there was no correlation, Susan had always felt like rain intensified the smell.

    At least, the rain itself had stopped now, though the humidity that permeated the air was exhausting her.

    Oh, how she hated this planet...

    Her uncle greeted her with a hug.

    ¡°It¡¯s so great to have you back,¡± he started, then lifted a hand to ward off her protest. ¡°I know, I know, you¡¯re not really back.¡± He laughed and stepped aside so she could get out of the cold.

    ¡°Right. Well, I might be around longer than I would have liked.¡±

    ¡°Complications?¡± he asked as he took her coat and hung it on the wall.

    ¡°You could say that.¡±

    They went into the living room, and Duncan poured them drinks.

    ¡°Why didn¡¯t you tell me about the curse?¡± she asked.

    He glanced at her. ¡°You found out about that, eh? I guess I should have expected it.¡± He gave her a glass and sat across from her. ¡°Your parents didn¡¯t want you to know. I just didn¡¯t think it was my place to tell you...¡±

    She frowned. ¡°That would have been a good excuse if they were still alive.¡±

    He stared into his glass. After a moment of silence, he looked back at her. ¡°The truth is... I feel guilty for what happened to your mother.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡± she asked, surprised.

    ¡°It was my idea. I mean... I talked her into joining a magic workshop.¡± He shook his head. ¡°Your mother had no talent for it. Not only that, she kept botching things up. In one particular incident, she miscast a spell that backfired on her. She had rashes for forty-eight hours, along with headaches and other unpleasant side effects. She gave up after that.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t understand... What does that have to do with anything?¡±

    ¡°They diagnosed her curse about a week later. They never figured out what had caused it, but I think it was because of that failed spell.¡±

    ¡°That wasn¡¯t your fault if she miscast it...¡±

    ¡°True. But if I hadn¡¯t insisted on her joining that workshop, it wouldn¡¯t have happened in the first place.¡±

    ¡°Nor if she hadn¡¯t moved to Vuulthur,¡± she snapped, ¡°or if she hadn¡¯t been born!¡±

    He made a face. ¡°Regardless, how is this knowledge going to help you understand your parents¡¯ murder?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± she admitted.

    There didn¡¯t seem to be any link, but she still was happy to have resolved a small part of the mystery... It gave her the feeling¡ªor was it an illusion?¡ªof making progress.

    ¡°There might be no connection,¡± she continued, ¡°but I can¡¯t afford to ignore any clue, however insignificant it may seem. Everything else I¡¯ve tried has led me nowhere... This is all I have left.¡±

    ¡°And then what?¡± asked her uncle, echoing a similar question he had asked earlier.

    The implication that there might be no answers for her to find made her now¡ªjust like it had before¡ªvery uncomfortable.

    ***

    Lying in bed, his friend seemed so weak¡ªpale, drained, sickly. It felt like he might die at any minute...

    That thought made Will¡¯s heart sink and tears welled up in his eyes.

    ¡°What did they do to you?¡± he muttered as he sat next to the bed.

    Jack made a dismissive gesture¡ªthough that, alone, seemed to drain all the strength he had left. He let the arm fall and coughed.

    ¡°It¡¯s not as bad as it looks,¡± he finally said. ¡°It was just cold there, and I wasn¡¯t getting enough food.¡±

    ¡°You really should let me get you a doctor¡ª¡±

    ¡°No! There¡¯s no need for that. I¡¯ll be fine in a few days.¡±

    ¡°I hope so. Where were you?¡±

    ¡°They locked me up in a dark cell, in a house... I gave directions to the cops, but I don¡¯t know if it¡¯ll be enough to find them. It¡¯s all so fuzzy...¡±

    His voice trailed off as his eyes closed.

    Will still had so many questions, but he didn¡¯t want to exhaust him either. He¡¯d gone through so much already.

    Jack¡¯s eyes popped open again, and he looked at his friend.

    ¡°Where¡¯s Paul?¡±

    ¡°He went to help at the Royal House. I guess you haven¡¯t heard, what with all you¡¯ve been through, but some of those madmen set off a bomb there.¡±

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    ¡°Oh.¡± Jack coughed some more, his voice hoarse. ¡°We gotta get the mask.¡±

    ¡°You and your obsession...¡±

    Jack closed his eyes again, though he kept speaking.

    ¡°It¡¯s important, Will. It may be the only way...¡±

    ¡°The only way? What are you talking about?¡±

    He worried his friend was becoming irrational.

    ¡°The only way to understand it,¡± finished Jack after a moment of silence.

    ¡°Well, you won¡¯t be going anywhere for a while, so you should just focus on resting and getting better. We can talk about that darned mask once you¡¯re back on your feet. Alright?¡±

    Jack grimaced¡ªthough it was hard to tell if it was from pain, or from displeasure at hearing his friend¡¯s suggestion.

    ¡°Could you ask Paul to come see me?¡±

    ¡°Sure. Soon as he gets back.¡±

    Will watched as his friend fell asleep and worried if he¡¯d ever be the same again. He had never seen him like this before.

    ***

    The trail was easy to follow. Jack¡¯s description¡ªlong freckled black hair, large nose, frail-looking body¡ªwas distinctive enough that people remembered seeing him.

    Two hours into his tracking, Ed stopped at a diner to get some food and rest a bit.

    After placing his order, he described Jack to the waitress.

    ¡°Oh, yeah. Good tipper. Didn¡¯t stay long. Just bought some stuff for the road...¡±

    ¡°Did he mention where he was going?¡±

    ¡°Afraid not, hon. Sorry.¡±

    ¡°How long ago was that?¡±

    ¡°About an hour, I¡¯d say.¡±

    He was catching up¡ªhe¡¯d been two hours behind when he¡¯d set off¡ªbut if Jack didn¡¯t stop to rest, he¡¯d make up for it... Why was he in such a hurry? Where was he going?

    ¡°Could you put all this in a bag for me, please?¡± he asked the waitress when she returned with his order. ¡°I think I¡¯d rather take it with me after all.¡±

    ¡°Sure, hon.¡±

    When he walked out of the diner, he saw five men circling around his glider.

    ¡°This your ride?¡± asked one of them as he approached.

    ¡°Yes,¡± he answered warily.

    They were large, wore leather jackets, and seemed like they might be looking for trouble.

    ¡°Can you drop us off in the next town?¡± asked the guy with a crooked smile.

    ¡°Sorry. I¡¯m in a bit of a hurry.¡±

    He opened the door and dropped his food inside¡ªmostly to get it out of the way, preparing for what might follow.

    ¡°Oh yeah? Where you going?¡±

    He closed the door and turned to face the man.

    ¡°Somewhere that isn¡¯t here. Now, if you¡¯ll excuse me...¡±

    ¡°Hey now! No need to be rude. We¡¯re just having a friendly conversation.¡±

    He glanced at the other guys. Two were sitting on the vehicle¡¯s hood, while the other two had circled around him.

    ¡°Would you mind moving away? I need to get going.¡±

    Their leader crossed his arms and grinned.

    ¡°What if we do mind?¡±

    Ed scratched his neck. ¡°I¡¯m trying to keep this civil.¡±

    ¡°Oh no,¡± laughed the other, ¡°don¡¯t hold back on our behalf.¡±

    One of the men standing behind him grabbed his shoulder. ¡°Just give us a ride, buddy, that¡¯s all we¡ª¡±

    Before any of them could do or say anything more, Ed grabbed the guy¡¯s arm and pulled on it, lifted him in the air, and brought him down hard on the leader. In the same sweeping motion, one of his legs kicked backward at the other guy behind him, hitting him in the groin.

    The two on the hood jumped off and came rushing at him, knives in hand.

    He ducked and hit one of them so hard it sent the guy flying against another vehicle. An alarm blared.

    The other turned to face him and yelled: ¡°I sold my soul to Xian!¡±

    As if that was supposed to strike fear in his heart.

    It did give him pause, but only because the notion seemed so ridiculous to him it caught him by surprise. He would have laughed if he hadn¡¯t been in the middle of a fight.

    The man¡¯s knife slashed at his face and nearly connected, but Ed pulled back just in time. He kicked the weapon out of the attacker¡¯s hand and, in the same motion, hit the man¡¯s skull.

    He spun around.

    The boss was getting back up, looking pissed.

    ¡°You shouldn¡¯t have done that,¡± he said, wiping blood off his lips. ¡°Now, we¡¯re gonna have to hurt you.¡±

    Ed looked at him coolly. ¡°I¡¯m not sure you are properly assessing the situation. Maybe your thoughts are not very clear right now. Here, this might help.¡±

    His fist flew into the man¡¯s face so fast the boss didn¡¯t have time to duck. There was the sound of bone cracking. More blood trickled on the guy¡¯s lips as he fell back down.

    The others stared at him, then at their leader, unsure what to do next.

    ¡°Hey, mister!¡± cried out a woman¡¯s voice. ¡°Are you okay? I called the cops!¡±

    Ed glanced at the diner and saw the waitress running in his direction.

    ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± he said. ¡°Not sure about these guys.¡± He opened the glider¡¯s door and stepped in. ¡°Thanks for caring, but I can¡¯t wait for the cops. I¡¯m in a hurry.¡±

    He closed the door as the waitress reached the scene.

    With a few quick gestures, he got the glider into the air and continued his trip southward.

    He wondered if Jack knew he was being followed... could he have sent those goons to stop him? How would he have known, though?

    That would just be one more question to ask him when he finally caught up with him.

    In the meantime, he sat back, pulled his food out of the bag, and ate.

    ***

    By the time he was ready to leave, the toll had increased to twelve dead and fifty-six wounded.

    Paul was exhausted. Clearing out rubble¡ªeven with magic¡ªwas not a simple task. Dealing with dead bodies and wounded victims did not help.

    He had felt sick many times, but he had kept going. His feelings were nothing compared to what these poor souls had endured¡ªor still were enduring, for many.

    When he was so tired he barely could move anymore, one of the medics chided him.

    ¡°Go get some rest. Now! You won¡¯t be any use to anyone if you work yourself to death.¡±

    Knowing the man was right, he walked himself out.

    Night was falling, and a crowd had gathered at the front of the hotel. Right away, he noticed something was off.

    Maybe it was in the expressions, or the general mood, but he could tell these people were upset. At least some of them were. There was a clear rift in their attitudes.

    The police were there, too, keeping the masses in control, and checking everyone who wanted to go into the hotel.

    He stopped on the porch and studied the crowd.

    On the left was a group chanting and waving their fists. They held signs reading things such as ¡°Stop stealing our resources,¡± ¡°Leave our gods alone,¡± ¡°Qojja to Qojjans!¡± or ¡°Get off our world!¡± Paying more attention, he heard some of the words they were chanting... ¡°offworlder scum¡± were the most prevalent ones.

    On the right were those who protested against the former, calling them extremists, fanatics, delusional fools, and other niceties. They bore signs of their own, and yelled insults rather than chanted. Though some in the back were more peaceful, as they recited the same words repeatedly: ¡°Blessed be Norkh, he the one who rises from the ashes.¡±

    ¡°Are you going in, or out?¡± he heard someone ask.

    He blinked and turned. A cop was standing behind him.

    ¡°Oh, sorry. Heading out. Need to get some rest.¡±

    The officer nodded. ¡°You should go, then... while you still can. This crowd could get out of hand quick.¡±

    Paul sighed. ¡°You¡¯re probably right. Thanks. And good luck with that.¡±

    He walked away¡ªtoward the right, since those standing there were less likely to attack him on sight.

    The rest of the way was deceptively quiet. The streets were near empty. He wondered if everyone had gone to the Royal House.

    When he reached his own hotel, he found Will had left a message for him.

    He read it and smiled. Finally some good news.

    Jack was back!

    He realized he had gone to the bombing site not only to help, but also to keep himself busy so as not to worry sick about his friend. Not being able to find him had made him feel so powerless... At the hotel, on the other hand, he had been able to do some good, to be useful.

    Still smiling, he hurried off to visit Jack.

 Part II - Chapter 14

    Over the years, some have voiced their surprise upon learning I had never met Rakash until recently. This can be even more intriguing to those who know of my relationships with people close to him.

    How could I have been with Julia, after all, and yet never come into contact with her mentor?

    I must admit it is strange even to me when I think about it. Despite our extended lives, our paths had never crossed. There were many reasons for this¡ªnot all of them attributable to me.

    I¡¯ve mentioned my affinity for humans. This led me to live among them for many centuries¡ªunless that was the source of the affinity. Either way, I did not move into this city until I met Julia.

    After that... Well, Rakash was not always the social creature he is today. There was a time when he shunned most everyone, especially those he disliked. And I suspect he had a fairly strong dislike for me in those days... perhaps because of my relationship with Julia. I doubt he approved of it.

    And then, when she died...

    Most times, a death will bring closer all who loved the departed... but this was not such a case.

    If anything, the gap between us grew wider, deeper.

    I suspect he held me responsible for her death.

    How could he not?

    I certainly felt enough guilt.

    And yet...

    And yet, despite all those years of aloofness, it now felt like we spent all of our time together.

    That is, of course, an exaggeration... though not by far.

    It¡¯s not like we even had anything to talk about. Nothing personal. Except her. But that was not something either of us would have felt comfortable talking about with the other. So we did not.

    Instead, it was always all business.

    ¡±How are our humans behaving today?¡± he would ask.

    ¡±Puzzled and inquisitive,¡± would be my typical reply.

    Each time, a servant would interrupt to bring him a drink. Each time, he would scold him and send him away.

    ¡±These creatures never know their place. I do not know how you put up with them,¡± he once stated.

    ¡±They are attempting to serve you,¡± I pointed out. ¡°Is that not their purpose?¡±

    ¡±It is. But that does not mean they should not be more mindful of when to serve.¡±

    ¡±Should they, then, listen to our conversation, so as to better gauge the most appropriate moment to approach?¡±

    He stopped rolling the pendant between his fingers and stared at me with an unreadable expression.

    ¡±Would it matter to you if they did?¡± he asked, with what sounded like curiosity.

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    ¡±Should it?¡±

    He smiled. ¡°You are becoming wiser by the minute, it would seem.¡± He clapped his hands and one of the human servants came running. ¡°In truth, it would not matter at all. Who would they tell? This one I have had by my side for twenty years. He alone is allowed in my presence when I discuss matters of the greatest secrecy. Have you ever heard him talk?¡±

    I could not say that I had, so I merely shook my head.

    ¡±Of course you haven¡¯t. Open your mouth.¡±

    He tapped the human¡¯s cheek with the back of a wooden stick.

    The servant parted his lips, and I was horrified to see the man¡¯s tongue had been removed.

    ¡±Why would you do such a thing?¡± I cried out without thinking.

    Rakash shrugged as he distractedly waved the servant away. ¡°One could argue they would have no one to tell... It¡¯s not like they will ever go back to their people. But other ears abound. One can never be too prudent. Besides,¡± he added with a smile, ¡°he wanted me to cut out his tongue.¡±

    ¡±He what?¡±

    ¡±Don¡¯t look so shocked,¡± he laughed. ¡°You know as well as I do that all the humans who come here do so of their own free will.¡±

    While that was mostly true, it was not entirely so... and he knew it as much as I did. But even if one disregarded this, did it give us the right to treat the humans like animals?

    ¡±Coming here is one thing, wanting his own tongue removed is quite another...¡±

    ¡±He begged for me to remove temptation. So I did.¡±

    It was infuriating how he made such an unspeakable act sound like he had done his victim a favor.

    ***

    They had been going for hours, heading straight toward the mountains¡ªwhich loomed above them.

    ¡°Shouldn¡¯t we fly higher?¡± Michael asked after a long silence.

    ¡°This glider can¡¯t go above twelve feet,¡± said Christopher. ¡°So we¡¯ll go under.¡±

    Surely, he must be joking...

    ¡°Under?¡±

    Christopher tapped the vehicle¡¯s TriVid screen, which zoomed on the road ahead of them. It showed a large, dark, deep opening at the base of the mountain.

    ¡°Tunnel goes all the way through to the other side...¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s on the other side?¡± asked Michael, staring apprehensively at the dark pit on the screen.

    ¡°Our destination.¡±

    Not only did his captor keep Michael spellbound, but he systematically refused to say anything about who had hired him. It was frustrating.

    He had asked him once why he wouldn¡¯t tell him anything. Christopher¡¯s answer had been: ¡°Those are not my secrets to tell.¡±

    It took them another hour to reach the tunnel. The darkness engulfed them instantly, though the glider seemed to know the way well enough as it just went on, unperturbed.

    ¡°Have you come through here often?¡± asked Michael.

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t say often, but a few times.¡±

    ¡°Why are there no lights?¡±

    ¡°Waste of energy, since the gliders can do without them just fine.¡±

    ¡°What if our glider breaks down?¡±

    Christopher snickered. ¡°Then we¡¯d be screwed.¡±

    That did not make him feel any better. Not one bit.

    His captor left the front seat and came to sit next to him. He activated a side panel that revealed a bottle and some glasses.

    ¡°You gotta learn to relax, Michael. Everything¡¯s under control. Not yours, granted, but still... Since there¡¯s nothing you can do about it, you might as well relax, right?¡± He poured drinks into the two glasses and handed one to his prisoner¡ªor guest, as he liked to call him. ¡°Here. This might help.¡±

    Michael doubted it. But he took the glass nonetheless. He sniffed it.

    ¡°What is this?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, it¡¯s not drugged. Look.¡± He drank half of his own glass. ¡°See? Perfectly fine gin.¡±

    The archaeologist tasted the drink, then took a longer sip.

    Christopher watched through the window quietly for a while.

    ¡°They say there are monsters here,¡± he mused, ¡°that dwell in the darkest depths of these mountains. Sometimes, if you listen carefully, you can hear them moan and screech and curse.¡±

    ¡°Are you trying to make me feel better or to scare me?¡± asked Michael.

    Christopher grinned. ¡°Just passing the time.¡±

    ¡°How could they see anything in this darkness?¡±

    ¡°Ah, but the darkness does not bother or hinder them. This is their natural habitat, after all. They thrive in the darkness. They can see through it just as clearly as we can see through the light.¡±

    ¡°Wouldn¡¯t they attack us if they were real?¡±

    ¡°The glider¡¯s lights keep them at bay. It frightens them and blinds them if they get too close.¡±

    He had never heard of these stories, but then this was a part of the world he was not familiar with. He had always studied in Joqqal and its immediate surroundings. There were enough sites there to keep him busy for years.

    The glider wavered as its engine emitted a strange sound.

    The two men looked at each other.

    But the shaking stopped, and the vehicle continued to dart through the darkness.

    Michael hoped their lights would hold until the end of the tunnel.

 Part II - Chapter 15

    He had kept going all night, hoping Jack would at least stop to get some sleep, which would allow him to catch up.

    Some of the witnesses he had talked to had described the historian¡¯s vehicle, so he was keeping an eye out for that.

    It was nearly dawn when Ed reached the village of Tiqqur. Early risers were coming out, heading for work.

    He consulted the onboard AI for a list of the local hotels. There were only two, so he headed to the first address.

    At the front desk, he showed a picture of Jack¡ªwhich the AI had printed for him¡ªand was told that no, they had not seen him, nor was his name in their records.

    He flew to the second hotel.

    It was seven by the time he got there, and he became excited when he noticed a parked glider that looked a lot like Jack¡¯s.

    A man was walking toward it. He had the AI zoom in on the individual and immediately recognized him.

    Finally!

    He landed next to the historian¡¯s glider and jumped out.

    ¡°Mr. Arnett! We need to talk.¡±

    Jack jerked back when he saw Ed. He turned and ran away.

    ¡°What the¡ª¡±

    Ed rushed in pursuit.

    Why was the man running? What did he have to hide?

    ¡°Stop!¡± he called out. ¡°I just want to talk...¡±

    Jack did not stop.

    He jumped over a rail and ran into an abandoned building across the street from the hotel where he had spent the night.

    Ed followed in. But as soon as he did, there was a crackling sound and a section of the wall on his right broke off and fell.

    He ducked.

    Was Jack actually shooting at him?

    For crying out loud!

    A buzz in his ear signaled an incoming call on his holovisor.

    He crawled into a corner, taking cover behind a pillar, and tapped his temple to take the call.

    ¡°Hello?¡± he asked distractedly, as he glanced over the edge of the pillar.

    Another phaser shot nearly missed him, hitting the ceiling above him.

    ¡°Mr. Gyldenstierne? This is Rose, from the Commodore. We talked the other day?¡±

    ¡°Ah, yes, the nice lady at the front desk,¡± he said. ¡°I remember. But this isn¡¯t exactly the best of times...¡±

    ¡°Oh. Sorry. But you said you wanted to know when Mr. Arnett would be back... It seemed important, so I thought¡ª¡±

    He frowned. ¡°Wait... What? Are you saying he¡¯s back?¡±

    ¡°Yes. Yesterday was my day off, so I only found out when I started my shift a few minutes ago.¡±

    ¡°Are you sure he¡¯s there now?¡± he asked, startled.

    ¡°Well, yes. From what I¡¯ve heard, he was in a rather bad shape and will be stuck in bed for some time. So I can¡¯t imagine he¡¯d have walked out...¡±

    He stared at Rose¡¯s face floating against his retina.

    What the hell is going on here?

    ***

    Magic was everywhere, if you knew where to look. It was just a matter of using it how best you could to obtain the result you wanted.

    Still, it would have been folly to expect miracles. Paul was no doctor, after all. But he could at least alleviate some of the pains his friend was enduring.

    When Will arrived, he found Jack walking slowly between the bed and the desk.

    ¡°Hey! You¡¯re back on your feet!¡±

    Jack grimaced. ¡°Yeah, but it¡¯s exhausting.¡±

    He dropped to the bed and let out a deep sigh.

    ¡°It¡¯ll get better,¡± said Paul.

    ¡°I just hate being stuck here when there is so much work to do...¡±

    ¡°The mask can wait a few more days,¡± remarked Will¡ªwho knew exactly what his friend was thinking about. ¡°It¡¯s not going anywhere.¡±

    The lead historian seemed annoyed by the remark. ¡°I know that, but I hate feeling useless like this...¡±

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    ¡°You¡¯ll make up for it soon enough,¡± said Paul. ¡°Especially if you rest. Besides, the timing is kind of convenient.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean?¡± asked Will.

    ¡°I need to leave Joqqal for a while.¡±

    Jack¡¯s eyes went wide. ¡°You can¡¯t! Not before¡ª¡±

    Paul held up a hand, interrupting him. ¡°One, I won¡¯t be gone long. Two, you need to rest. Three, like Will said, the mask is not going anywhere.¡±

    His friend grumbled as he lay back down on his bed. ¡°But why?¡± he asked. ¡°What¡¯s so important that you have to go?¡±

    ¡°Well... I¡¯ve been meaning to tell you guys...¡± He pulled a chair and sat down. ¡°I was happy to see you again, of course, but that¡¯s not the only reason I came to Qojja.¡±

    ¡°You met a pretty girl?¡± joked Will.

    ¡°No. But a few months ago, I dug up a picture dated from the day of my birth. It was taken in a village outside of Joqqal. There was a woman there with a tattoo who I have been able to identify. I talked to her yesterday, and I know now where to find my mother.¡±

    His two friends were stunned by this news. They¡¯d always known Paul was an orphan, and he¡¯d often talked about looking for his parents, but it had all been wishful thinking¡ªor so they had thought.

    ¡°What about your father?¡± asked Will.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± said Paul. ¡°But that¡¯s one of the things I plan to ask my mother about.¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t realize you cared so much about all that,¡± muttered Jack.

    Paul lifted his hands and shook them in the air. ¡°These powers I have! I need to understand why I have them.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not like you¡¯re unique... others can use magic.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t use magic. I see it, I feel it, I bend it to my will. This is not normal. Others have to learn complicated spells and follow restrictive rules... I never had to go through any of those hoops. It always came to me naturally. But why? I don¡¯t know. Are my parents like me? I feel like they might be the key.¡±

    ¡°Can¡¯t you go after we get the mask?¡±

    ¡°And twiddle my thumbs while I wait for you to be back on your feet?¡± Paul shrugged. ¡°I figure I might as well go now.¡±

    ¡°How long will you be gone?¡± asked Jack grudgingly.

    ¡°Not long. The village I need to visit is nearby. I expect to return within a day, two at most.¡±

    Jack sighed. ¡°Very well. I hope you find your answers.¡±

    ***

    Two days after her visit to the bank, she received a holo call from the manager.

    ¡°We have found some old archives of your parents¡¯ bank statements on our servers. I am transferring them to your AI now.¡±

    ¡°Thank you so much!¡± said Susan. ¡°This will help a lot.¡±

    She was excited by this news. Of course, these documents would not answer all of her questions, but she might find a new lead, something to hang on to, to keep her going...

    Until what?

    Her uncle¡¯s words still haunted her. Was she just too stubborn to give up on a lost cause? Was she going to keep grasping at straws her entire life?

    She pushed those thoughts away and had the AI bring up the files on her TriVid screen.

    The documents were difficult to understand at first. They were not copies of the versions sent to customers, but the raw data that was recorded in the bank¡¯s servers.

    She started taking notes, writing numbers in a spreadsheet... to better organize them, and to give them a form she could better process and assimilate.

    After a couple of hours, it seemed clear her father had received large sums from the same source repeatedly over six months.

    No names were listed in these datasets, only references. But the bank manager had sent her a list of all the references with the corresponding names and addresses. Browsing through it, she found the source of the money: Lucaan Labs.

    The name rang a bell. She vaguely remembered seeing commercials for that business when she was a child.

    With a few taps on her screen, she brought up all the information the AI could find on the company.

    The government itself had created Lucaan Labs in the colony¡¯s early days. They had handled all of the settlers¡¯ medical examinations and immunizations. They quickly became the lead health institution on Vuulthur, owning several hospitals and labs. She even found ads for test subjects intended to help develop new, ground-breaking, and possibly life-saving drugs.

    Susan sat back and stared at the data.

    A medical lab? What did it mean?

    Why were they giving her parents so much money?

    Had they signed up as test subjects?

    Or was it a settlement for a procedure gone wrong¡ªmaybe in connection with her mother¡¯s diagnosis?

    Or had they uncovered some dark secret, and the company was paying for their silence?

    She wasn¡¯t sure she liked any of those scenarios...

    ***

    The day after the bombing had been a more quiet one. The two crowds in front of the hotel had clashed, and the police had had to step in. Violence had ensued. Things had been tense afterward, though with the curfew people were forced to stay indoors.

    Ward guessed if things seemed quieter now, it might just be the calm before the storm. He wondered how things would evolve, and was frustrated he couldn¡¯t do anything about it.

    As he waited to hear back from Moonrise, he looked up some of the names on the list.

    He was surprised to get very little information from the TriVid system in his room. In most cases, he was told the individual was a private citizen and data access was restricted. This was unusual.

    As a workaround, he tried using his badge to unlock the information, but he was turned down as not having the required authorization level.

    In frustration, he decided to watch some videos to learn more about local culture¡ªespecially the Zendaar. That name had been constantly on his mind ever since his conversation with Goodrich.

    What he found, though, did not make him any less uneasy.

    ¡°There are hundreds,¡± said an enthused believer, ¡°thousands of them! They look like you. They look like me. You could not tell them apart from us¡ªnor should you... Why would you even want to? They walk among us. They live among us. They watch over us in their infinite wisdom and benevolence. Praised be their names!¡±

    Groaning, he went looking for something with more substance... something with a more pragmatic approach. He came across the interview of two scientists that caught his attention. Neither of them was from Qojja, though they had studied the planet extensively.

    ¡°The one thing we can be certain of,¡± said a man with blonde hair, ¡°is that they are not human. But to claim they are gods would take things a tad too far.¡±

    ¡°How do you know they are not human?¡± asked the moderator.

    ¡°Well, for one thing, they possess supernatural powers. For another, they have longer lifespans. There are records of some of them, still alive today, dating back four hundred years¡ªif not more.¡±

    ¡°That is impressive... Has anyone talked to them about it?¡±

    ¡°They turn down all requests for interviews,¡± said the second scientist¡ªa red-haired woman, ¡°and refuse to answer even the simplest questions. Which makes it all the more difficult to assess what they really are, what they are capable of, and so on.¡±

    ¡°Should we be worried?¡±

    The woman hesitated. ¡°Maybe. It¡¯s difficult to say. I mean, there were conflicts in the past, between humans and the Zendaar, but the two have lived in peace for centuries now.¡±

    ¡°What I don¡¯t understand,¡± said the moderator, ¡°is why are they only found on Qojja? Shouldn¡¯t they be everywhere? Especially if they have such lengthy lifespans, you¡¯d expect them to travel...¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a good question,¡± said the blonde. ¡°If you ever figure it out, let us know!¡±

    All three of them laughed.

    Ward brought up another video.

    ¡°Through blood they feed, through blood they breed...¡± said a young dark-haired man with pale skin.

    ¡°And yet, they do not bleed,¡± remarked his friend.

    ¡°Oh, but they do... Pierce them when they¡¯ve just fed, and you¡¯ll find blood gushing out.¡±

    He switched the channel and the TriVid screen filled with the faces of fanatics chanting ¡°May the wrath of Kahn fall upon you!¡± as they marched through the streets of Joqqal.

    Ward turned the device off, pondering.

    These creatures clearly existed, whatever they were.

    And they owned Moonrise.

 Part II - Chapter 16

    There were times when I wondered if his lack of faith did not blind him to the realities of our world.

    He spent much time obsessing about alien artifacts when he should have been more concerned about the ailments that troubled our people.

    I once dared to question him on this matter.

    ¡±You could do so much good for our brothers¡ª¡±

    ¡±Am I not doing good?¡± he had interrupted right away, with a quirked brow.

    ¡±You are,¡± I had lied, ¡°but you could do so much better.¡±

    ¡±And how should I go about it exactly?¡±

    Rakash was never an easy person to speak to. He would read things into your words you had not intended to say. There were hidden meanings at every corner, and one had to be wary not to take a bad turn.

    ¡±Why do you not believe in the gods?¡± I had asked after a moment of silence, well aware I was using one of his tricks to avoid a subject with an indirectly connected question.

    He had smiled, as if to let me know he had noticed and appreciated the effort.

    ¡±A better question would be: why should I?¡±

    ¡±But you¡¯ve met them, you saw what they could do... how can you not believe after that?¡±

    We were sitting in his library, as we often did. It was his favorite room in the mansion.

    He had risen then, and gone to a shelf. After browsing through the titles, he had picked one of the volumes and walked back to his chair. He had tossed the book into my lap as he sat down.

    Looking at the cover, I¡¯d noticed it was a history of ancient Earth. I knew him to have a fascination for that world¡ªthough considering his disdain for humans, I often wondered why.

    ¡±Are you familiar with the story of the Conquistadors?¡± he had asked.

    ¡±Can¡¯t say that I am...¡±

    ¡±It¡¯s a fascinating one. Page 335. Take a look.¡±

    I¡¯d flipped through the pages and read the relevant passage.

    As I went through it, I began to guess his reasoning.

    ¡±But we are not savages,¡± I had protested. ¡°And our gods are not like these Spanish invaders...¡±

    ¡±Are you sure?¡±

    I¡¯d frowned. ¡°They did not come to invade us, so yes, I¡¯m sure.¡±

    ¡±You are missing the point,¡± he¡¯d remarked. ¡°It¡¯s not about invasion, or being savages... It¡¯s about knowledge, and our ability¡ªor lack thereof¡ªto comprehend things which are beyond our understanding.¡±

    ¡±And what is it we do not understand?¡±

    ¡±The Aztecs did not understand the weapons and armors the Conquistadors used and wore, so they wrongly assumed they were gods. Because it is easier to ascribe to divinity that which we do not understand.¡±

    I had closed the book and set it down on the table in front of us.

    ¡±Is this why you spend so much time studying alien artifacts?¡±

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    ¡±I like to understand things, Evken. I never assume that, just because I do not yet understand something, it has to be of a divine nature. Everything has a rational, logical explanation.¡±

    ¡±Magic does not,¡± I¡¯d pointed out.

    He had laughed. ¡°On the contrary! Magic, just like science, follows its own strict rules.¡±

    ¡±Why not study it, then?¡±

    He had made a dismissive gesture.

    ¡±There are those among us who do. But it is not my field of expertise¡ªit never has been, and never will be.¡±

    I had not replied as I mulled over his words.

    After a moment, he had turned toward me the type of smile I had come to recognize as a warning one was about to enter a maze of intricate paths filled with booby traps.

    ¡±So tell me, Evken... Would I serve our people better by blindly believing in so-called gods, or by piercing alien secrets that may unlock space travel for us?¡±

    In his own roundabout way, he had answered my question while flipping onto me the blame I had hinted at.

    I had deemed it more prudent to remain quiet.

    One should not venture lightly into Rakash¡¯s mazes.

    ***

    When they finally reached the end of the tunnel, they saw a vast jungle spread ahead of them, as far as they could see. The trees were lush and thick, benefitting from the heavy rain that often poured over this region.

    Michael had worried the darkness would never end. They had spent almost an entire day in there. The stories Christopher had told him had not made him any less anxious, quite the opposite.

    His rational mind kept telling him it was silly. Not only were there no monsters¡ªwatching them, ready to pounce at the first opportunity¡ª, but there had to be security measures in place to come rescue them in case their vehicle broke down. This was a civilized world, after all.

    Then again, half the planet believed gods walked the earth and wanted to throw foreigners off the planet... how rational was that?

    The glider flew a few miles into the jungle, then landed in a clearing near a village.

    ¡°Is this it?¡± asked Michael curiously.

    ¡°If by that you¡¯re asking if this is where we part ways, then the answer is yes. But if you think this is the end of the line for you, I highly doubt it.¡±

    The archaeologist frowned. ¡°Am I getting dumped on someone else again?¡±

    ¡°Afraid so. Sorry. I¡¯d hate to be you. But it can¡¯t be helped.¡±

    Before Michael could protest, Christopher walked off, heading toward one of the outlying houses. He tried to follow but, of course, he found he could not¡ªhe should have expected it. The spell was keeping him in the car.

    He wondered if whoever was taking over would be as stringent. Maybe he could convince them he wouldn¡¯t run away... after all, he was curious where all of this was going.

    What he saw next, though, took him by surprise.

    Christopher came back out with two monks.

    As they reached the vehicle, Christopher smiled.

    ¡°These are Brothers Wan and Trin. They will take you where you need to go next. Oh, and... don¡¯t waste your breath trying to get answers from them. They are mute.¡±

    Michael stared in disbelief. ¡°What? Are you kidding me?¡±

    The two monks stared back with blank expressions, hands hidden in their sleeves.

    ¡°Come on, you can get out now. They¡¯ll take you to a room where you can rest for the night. You¡¯ll start your journey tomorrow. On foot, by the way. These guys don¡¯t believe in technology... Crazy, I know. I really wouldn¡¯t want to be you.¡±

    He affectionately slapped Michael on the back as he got out of the glider.

    ¡°Good luck, buddy.¡±

    And just like that, Christopher got into the vehicle and flew off.

    ¡°Well, I¡¯ll be...¡±

    Michael looked at the monks, who motioned for him to follow them.

    He did.

    They were silent, but kind.

    There were only monks here, he realized. A community that lived off the grid, cut off from society... There were no holovisors here, no TriVid screens, no electricity. It was like a trip into the prehistoric past.

    He was fed, bathed, and given clean clothes¡ªa tunic much like the ones they wore themselves.

    At first averse to putting it on, in the end, he relented. Having not changed in days, he was feeling filthy.

    During the night¡ªmore out of curiosity than an actual desire to flee¡ªhe had stepped out of his room and explored the village, testing the limits of his leash.

    There were no lamps here, not even torches, but the light of the moon was bright enough that he could see. It was quiet, too. The only sounds he heard were of singing insects and an occasional snore from one of the monks.

    He reached the edge of the village and stared at the trees, then back at the houses. There seemed to be no bonds in place anymore. As if they did not fear he would run. Or maybe they figured if he did, he would get lost¡ªif not killed by some local beast¡ªand relieve them of a burden in the process.

    I could always head toward the mountain, he thought as he glanced at the distant snow-covered peaks.

    It would take him forever to get there on foot, though. Besides, there was no way he¡¯d go into that tunnel without a glider. And there was none here for him to steal.

    With a sigh, he went back to bed.

    The next day, they woke him at dawn and gestured for him to come out.

    After a frugal breakfast, they set out on a dirt path that wound its way through the trees...

    Away from the looming mountain and deeper into the jungle.

 Part II - Chapter 17

    He cut off the communication before the woman could say another word.

    What was going on?

    The man he¡¯d seen was Jack Arnett.

    Or was he?

    He frowned.

    He¡¯d certainly looked like him.

    But he¡¯d seen him from a distance.

    ¡°Hey,¡± he called out. ¡°Why are you shooting at me? I just want to talk, Mr. Arnett.¡±

    ¡°Why do you keep calling me that?¡± came an angry voice. ¡°You think you can trick me like that? I¡¯m on to you!¡±

    Another phaser blast hit the other side of the pillar that shielded him.

    ¡°You¡¯re not Jack Arnett?¡±

    ¡°Of course not! And you know perfectly well who I am, you maniac!¡±

    ¡°I believe this is a case of mistaken identity, sir. This Jack Arnett I talk about looks exactly like you. I have a picture to prove it. If you can stop shooting one second... I¡¯m unarmed.¡±

    Only silence answered.

    He took the picture out of his pocket and held it out beyond the pillar.

    ¡°Feel free to use your holovisor to zoom in on the photo.¡±

    More silence.

    Then: ¡°That¡¯s not me.¡±

    ¡°No, I don¡¯t believe it is. His name is Jack Arnett. He¡¯s a historian.¡±

    ¡°Oh.¡± Yet another silence. ¡°Alright. You can come out. Slowly!¡±

    He did so, holding his hands up.

    The man stood in the open, phaser still aimed in his direction. He looked at him suspiciously.

    ¡°Why did you shoot at me?¡± asked Ed.

    ¡°I thought you wanted to kill me.¡±

    ¡°Why would anyone want to kill you?¡±

    The man made a face. ¡°I¡¯ve angered some of those fanatics in Joqqal... I think they may have sent some of their people after me.¡±

    Now that he got a better look at him, he could tell it was not the same man, though they looked eerily alike.

    ¡°Well, I can assure you I am not with them. I work for the Weld and can show you my credentials if you¡¯ll let me reach into my¡ª¡±

    ¡°Nah, that¡¯s fine,¡± said the man as he put away his weapon. ¡°I believe you. You don¡¯t speak like them. You seem sane enough. Sorry for shooting at you,¡± he said apologetically.

    ¡°You should be more careful with that, but I understand your concern. That said, it looks like I¡¯ve been on a wild-goose chase... I really should head back.¡±

    The man nodded. ¡°Be safe.¡±

    Ed turned and walked away, swearing to himself. So much time wasted. Not to mention the return trip...

    As he got back into his glider, he hoped he could meet the elusive Jack before any permanent damage was done...

    ***

    The glider took him north, following the coastline.

    Paul stared through the window, contemplating the sea. There were mysteries there, too, he knew. Artifacts had been found in the depths, along with ancient ruins, though not much research had been done on those yet. There were too many other projects underway. And with the constant unrest from the local population, it was difficult to bring more scientists in.

    It was a fascinating world in many ways. To him, especially, because of his parents. For most of his life, he had not known which world he had come from.

    Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.

    This woman¡ªthe one Alyssya had given the baby to¡ªhad, in turn, handed it¡ªhim¡ªto an orphanage on Bernice. He had then been thrown into the system, a complex and antiquated system so crushed under its own weight it spent little time tracking all the hoops each child went through.

    As an adult, it had proven a nightmare trying to get answers from the higher-ups in those institutions. Everyone he talked to would blame someone else for the flawed system... and then would hurry on to the next person in line.

    It wasn¡¯t that they didn¡¯t want to help, it was that they were¡ªthemselves¡ªcrushed by an administration that requested a high ratio turnover. They just couldn¡¯t afford to spend too much time on cases they obviously could do nothing about.

    His eyes dropped to the road underneath. Though most vehicles flew, small paths were maintained on every planet¡ªpartly for aesthetics, partly for tradition... but also because they still were occasionally used.

    He watched as hundreds of men, women, and even children walked toward the north, heads bent. He could imagine them advancing quietly, lost in their thoughts... or maybe chanting?

    Were these also fanatics who wanted to kick out all of the foreigners?

    ¡°Who are these people?¡± he asked out loud.

    ¡°I believe they belong to the Ranian Cult,¡± answered the onboard AI. ¡°This must be their yearly pilgrimage to the Valley of Karazan.¡±

    ¡°Why do they go there?¡±

    ¡°According to scriptures, it was there that Lord Valerian first came to them and blessed them with his great wisdom.¡±

    ¡°Lord Valerian?¡±

    ¡°One of the thousands of gods of Qojja. He is said to live in a fortress outside Joqqal.¡±

    Paul sighed. Why did they have to have so many gods here? What was the point? Wouldn¡¯t one be enough? All this nonsense seemed to create more trouble than it was worth.

    And now he needed to find one of these divine beings...

    He had not told his friends his mother was supposed to be a goddess... how could he when he did not believe it himself? Besides, what purpose would it have served to mention it?

    ¡°How much longer before we reach Sidut er¡¯Nadiv?¡±

    ¡°Two hours and twenty-three minutes,¡± answered the glider¡¯s AI.

    He tapped on the TriVid screen and browsed through a list of movies.

    Might as well find something entertaining to pass the time.

    ***

    Why did everyone keep telling him it was impossible? He did not want to hear that!

    The human before him was tall, skinny, with bulgy eyes, and a tendency to look him in the eye which infuriated him. Not to mention the sickening smell...

    He finished explaining what it was exactly he wanted.

    The man then stared at him as if it was the most fantastical thing he¡¯d ever heard. He opened his mouth...

    ¡°Don¡¯t tell me it¡¯s impossible!¡± warned Valerian, waving a finger at him.

    The smelly, abominable mouth was shut, though only for a few seconds.

    ¡°I mean no disrespect, your lordship, but it¡¯s just that no one has ever pulled it off, so...¡±

    ¡°Just because no one has ever done it, doesn¡¯t mean it can¡¯t be done! You just need to try harder.¡±

    The human looked offended¡ªthe gall! If anyone had a right to be offended, it was him! How dared he? Valerian thought he should have the impudent skinned alive for such audacious behavior.

    ¡°Then why not have your people do it?¡± The man pointed at the window behind him, contempt dripping from his tongue.

    He did not need to look to know there still were hundreds kneeling in the court beyond, praying and praising his name, hoping they might be blessed with a few seconds more of his time.

    Valerian snorted. Disgusting worms, the whole lot of them. Of course, any of them would have killed for the honor of serving him... he knew this, and he would have had no qualm in abusing their blind credulity... but this was too important. He could not entrust this to such inept creatures.

    But he knew better than to say it out loud¡ªespecially to one such as this blood-thirsty mercenary.

    He was boiling inside, though, wishing he could rip that insolent¡¯s tongue out... But knowing it would get him into trouble, he resisted the urge.

    ¡°Can¡¯t you just cut around it... blow the wall up or something?¡±

    The man grimaced. ¡°Getting into the cave would be hard enough. Doing what you suggest would be loud and disruptive. Not what you want in a covert operation. We¡¯d be swarmed with cops in no time. Plus, it would also risk damaging the mask¡ªwhich I¡¯m guessing is not something you would want.¡±

    ¡°So,¡± said Valerian as he felt his rage rising, ¡°what you¡¯re saying is that it¡¯s impossible?¡±

    The hideous human shrugged his hideous shoulders. ¡°I¡¯d love to take your money, but I can¡¯t commit to something I know can¡¯t be done.¡±

    Without waiting to be dismissed, the despicable excuse for a sentient being turned and walked out.

    Valerian screamed his fury as he grabbed his goblet and threw it hard against the wall. He had half a mind to have the man stopped and hung upside down, then slowly peel his skin off. That would teach him.

    But he knew the rules.

    One day they would change, though. He would see to it. And oh how they would pay, then, those puny creatures...

    One day soon.

    Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and focused.

    ¡°Thomas!¡± he yelled.

    His young raven-haired servant came quickly and fell on his face in front of him. At least this one had more sense than that previous one he¡¯d had to flail and throw to the serpents.

    ¡°I¡¯m hungry. Bring me food!¡±

    The servant crawled backward, his forehead all the while pressed against the floor, only standing once he¡¯d reached the door.

    For some reason, this appeased him. A smile even crept across his lips.

    Well, he wouldn¡¯t give up, would he? He¡¯d find a way. There had to be one! If the mask had been placed there, then there had to be a way to remove it...

    Thomas returned with a young female with long, dark hair.

    The would-be god looked her up and down, then motioned for her to approach.

    She stepped up to him with her head bowed.

    ¡°Have you bathed?¡± he asked.

    ¡°Yes, your lordship.¡±

    He circled around her, sniffing her hair. It was not perfect, but the soap was covering most of the human stench. It would have to do.

    With a sigh, he sat in his chair. She knelt before him and lay her head in his lap, face turned away from him.

    Pushing the hair off her neck, he bent down and pressed his fangs deep into her smooth, ripe skin.

 Part II - Chapter 18

    Spending his time sleeping and watching TriVid programs was not his idea of a good time. He was bored out of his mind. And restless. It felt to him like he was losing control, and time was quickly running out.

    Someone knocked.

    Jack sat up in his bed, and used the remote to unlock and open the door.

    The young boy who had helped him escape was standing there, looking at him shyly. There were bruises on his face, which made Jack furious.

    ¡°Did your father do this to you?¡±

    Victor¡¯s right hand went to his face. He winced at the contact, and let his arm drop to his side.

    ¡°It¡¯s alright, wassab. I deserved it.¡±

    ¡°No, you didn¡¯t! Why would you say that?¡±

    The boy shrugged as he approached and the door closed behind him. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter. They are all gone now.¡±

    ¡°Who¡¯s they?¡±

    ¡°My father, my mother, my brothers, their friends... Everyone. After you escaped, they feared the cops would come, so they ran.¡±

    ¡°They left you behind?¡±

    ¡°I would not go with them.¡±

    Jack was baffled and speechless.

    The boy tilted his head as he considered the historian.

    ¡°You are still sick, wassab?¡±

    ¡°I am not sick!¡± answered Jack defensively.

    ¡°You don¡¯t look well.¡±

    ¡°I was in that cell for too long, is all,¡± he muttered. ¡°But I¡¯m getting better.¡±

    ¡°That is good.¡±

    ¡°What are you going to do?¡± asked Jack.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know...¡± The boy looked around the room, then back at the bed. ¡°Is it true, wassab?¡±

    ¡°Is what true?¡±

    ¡°That the offworlders want to steal everything from us?¡±

    ¡°Is that what your father has taught you?¡±

    The boy shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s what they all say.¡±

    ¡°And what do you think?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think it¡¯s possible. There would be too much to take. And why would offworlders need anything of ours if they already have so many other worlds?¡±

    Jack coughed but still managed to smile.

    ¡°That¡¯s good thinking, kid. People are just afraid of what they don¡¯t understand. We¡¯re not here to take anything, we¡¯re just here to help and to study. That¡¯s all there is to it.¡±

    ¡°Study what?¡±

    ¡°There are many things on Qojja that warrant study. Archaeological sites, alien technology, history...¡±

    Victor walked around the room, examining everything with curiosity. He¡¯d lift an item, turn it around in his hand, then put it back down, move to the next and proceed likewise with it.

    ¡°What do you want to do when you grow up?¡± asked Jack as he watched the boy with some amusement.

    The child paused and frowned. ¡°I... don¡¯t know. What do you do?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m a historian.¡±

    ¡°Oh.¡±

    ¡°Is that something you¡¯d want to do?¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    Jack laughed. ¡°That¡¯s alright. You¡¯re still young. You¡¯ll find your calling, eventually.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry I didn¡¯t bring you another blanket.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s okay.¡±

    ¡°No, it¡¯s not.¡± The boy frowned. ¡°You got sick. It¡¯s my fault.¡±

    ¡°Not at all. I¡ª¡±

    Jack paused as another coughing bout started.

    ¡°It¡¯s not your fault,¡± he finally let out with a sigh. ¡°You helped me out, and that¡¯s all that matters. I will get better... I¡¯m working on it.¡±

    ¡°What will you do, once you are better?¡±

    Jack thought about that for a moment. He needed to get the mask, of course, but he understood that wasn¡¯t what the boy was asking. The question implied more long-term plans.

    ¡°If I am allowed,¡± he said slowly, ¡°I would stay on Qojja. I have been here only a few years, but I¡¯ve come to love your world, Victor. It is beautiful, and filled with mysteries.¡±

    The boy tilted his head.

    ¡°You are not afraid?¡±

    Again, the historian¡¯s mind wandered beyond the scope of the question. There was one thing he was very much afraid of, but it had little to do with the fanatics that walked the streets outside.

    His eyes turned to the window, his expression thoughtful.

    ¡°People are afraid of things they don¡¯t understand,¡± he finally answered. He looked back at the boy. ¡°And if there¡¯s one thing I do understand, it¡¯s the Qojjans¡¯ anger¡ªhowever misplaced it may be.¡±

    ***

    It had been difficult to track down the hospital where her mother had been treated. But she¡¯d finally found the answer in the bank statements. Medical bills are not cheap, and they stood out in the records. The associated reference had confirmed the name of a hospital.

    She stared at the gigantic structure for a moment, before finally stepping in.

    In the years she¡¯d been away, Susan had visited many hospitals¡ªwhen her parents had been killed, of course, but also after various small incidents. Some of them had been ancient buildings that smelled of antiseptic products. The modern ones¡ªlike this one¡ªused thilium energy to clean their halls and rooms, a method which had the advantage of being odorless.

    Still, there was one stink all hospitals had in common. One none of them could get rid of.

    The stink of death.

    When she explained at the front desk that she was trying to find information on her parents who had passed away, she was directed to the archives department.

    ¡°We can¡¯t give you that!¡± said an uptight brunette. ¡°Those are sealed and confidential.¡±

    ¡°My parents are deceased, miss, and I¡¯m their only heir. So I¡¯m sure you can have them unsealed.¡±

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t work that way...¡±

    Susan brought up on her wristpad the proofs of her relationship with the patients, along with a copy of their death certificate.

    The woman barely looked at them and dismissed them with an annoyed gesture.

    ¡°That¡¯s all irrelevant. We can only release these documents to the patients themselves. Anyone else would need an authorization signed by them.¡±

    Susan stared at the clerk in disbelief. ¡°They are dead,¡± she pointed out.

    ¡°Well, I¡¯m very sorry to hear that, but it does not change anything. Rules are rules.¡±

    ¡°Great! Thanks for nothing.¡±

    She stormed out of the department, exasperated.

    Walking through the hospital halls, she ran quickly through her options. She could counterfeit her mother¡¯s signature easily, but she was certain that would raise other issues¡ªlike how could a dead person have signed an affidavit? She would have tried to sneak into the room while that dragon was not looking, but she wouldn¡¯t know where to look¡ªplus she was pretty sure she¡¯d get caught as she was terrible at being quiet.

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    That only left one solution, she realized. Something she had thought of earlier.

    She headed back to the reception and asked if she could see the doctor who had treated her mother.

    ¡°Sure. What¡¯s the doctor¡¯s name?¡±

    ¡°I... don¡¯t know.¡±

    The lady at the desk hesitated for a moment. ¡°You said your parents passed away?¡±

    ¡°Yes. Five years ago.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry for your loss... Alright. Let me see what I can do. What was the name of your mother?¡±

    ¡°Wilma Caine. I do have the dates and references of the bills, if that can help...¡±

    ¡°That would, actually.¡±

    She brought up the data on her wristpad and transferred it to the woman.

    ¡°Ah yes... Dr. Martins. You¡¯re lucky. He¡¯s going on retirement tomorrow. Looks like you caught him right in time.¡±

    She jotted down some numbers on a piece of paper, which she handed to Susan.

    ¡°Building C6, elevator 3, sixth floor, hall 5, office 36B. I wrote it all down for you.¡±

    ¡°Thank you so much!¡±

    Susan followed the instructions to the letter and knocked on the door.

    ¡°Come in!¡± she heard from the other side.

    The room she entered was an old-fashioned office, cluttered with papers and files and old furniture.

    ¡°Dr. Martins?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s me,¡± said the man in the white blouse as he looked up. ¡°Did we have an appointment?¡±

    The doctor looked in his late sixties. He had balding white hair, thick eyebrows, and a short, thin nose.

    ¡°No, sorry, I didn¡¯t even know your name until five minutes ago... but you knew my parents.¡±

    The man blinked. ¡°I did?¡±

    ¡°Wilma and David Caine. I¡¯m their daughter, Susan.¡±

    The doctor sat back in his chair and frowned as he tried to remember. ¡°Those names do ring a bell. Ah, hold on!¡± He turned to an ancient-looking vidscreen and tapped on it repeatedly¡ªharder, too, than you would have expected. It seemed to annoy him for a moment, but then he brightened. ¡°Ah, yes! I remember now. Lovely people. How are they doing?¡±

    Susan grimaced. ¡°They died. Five years ago.¡±

    ¡°Oh, dear! I¡¯m so sorry. What happened?¡±

    ¡°They were murdered. I¡¯m still trying to understand the details.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s horrible! It¡¯s always difficult to lose the people we love.¡±

    ¡°It is,¡± she muttered. ¡°But... I think you could help me make sense of it all.¡±

    ¡°Well, I¡¯d be happy to if I can.¡±

    ¡°I only found out a few days ago about the curse that was on my mother. It¡¯s not something they ever mentioned to me. So I¡¯m trying to learn more.¡±

    ¡°Let me see...¡± He glanced at his vidscreen, skimming through the displayed text, nodding his head occasionally as things came back to him. ¡°We couldn¡¯t determine what had caused her condition, which is why I diagnosed a curse.¡±

    ¡°I heard you¡¯d found traces of magic?¡±

    ¡°Indeed.¡±

    ¡°Of what type?¡±

    ¡°A preserving spell, according to my notes.¡±

    Susan frowned. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t that have helped keep her memory, rather than destroy it?¡±

    ¡°You would think that, wouldn¡¯t you? But it was not cast on her mind.¡±

    ¡°Where, then?¡± she asked, confused.

    ¡°We could not tell. It was too old to trace exactly. Its last remnants had spread throughout her body. Most of them had already faded by the time she came to us.¡±

    ¡°Wait... too old? I thought she¡¯d been sick for a year when she left Vuulthur?¡±

    The doctor shook his head. ¡°Not at all. That¡¯s only when it became obvious. But it had been festering in her much longer than that, I¡¯m afraid. I suspect it would have never affected her and would have faded unnoticed had it not been for this world¡¯s particular atmosphere.¡±

    ¡°How long did she have it?¡±

    ¡°Hard to tell. But if I had to guess, considering the spell¡¯s state of degradation, I¡¯d say at least a decade. It was a slow burner.¡±

    Susan was stunned by the revelation.

    ***

    The glider sped through the sky, heading straight for Joqqal.

    Inside, Ed cursed himself for wasting so much time on a red herring. He couldn¡¯t have known, of course, but it was infuriating nonetheless.

    An alarm went off.

    ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± he asked.

    The voice-activated AI came alive.

    ¡°Incoming collision in twenty seconds... nineteen... eighteen...¡±

    Ed jumped to his feet and rushed to the back of the vehicle. Through the glass, he saw another glider rushing toward him.

    Can¡¯t he see where he¡¯s going? What is this?

    ¡°Thirteen... twelve...¡±

    He jumped over the seats and into the control booth. He switched to manual and forced the glider to dive. The entire structure shook under the added pressure, but the countdown paused. Then started again.

    ¡°Recalculating trajectory. Fourteen seconds to collision. Thirteen... twelve... eleven...¡±

    Ed cursed as he turned to the right, but the pursuant followed course and it only saved him another few seconds.

    ¡°Eight... seven... six...¡±

    At least he knew now this was intentional. Not that it made him feel any better. He gritted his teeth as he buckled his belt and held tight to the armrests.

    ¡°Three... two... one...¡±

    There was a loud crashing sound as the two vehicles collided. The front of his glider dipped and the entire structure spun out of control.

    He saw the ground rush toward him, and it brought back some rather unpleasant memories.

    The shock made the entire structure shake and crack, but he was not crushed, as the AI¡¯s safety mechanism had been automatically activated. An air bubble cocooned his body, keeping all surfaces away from his skin.

    The lights in the vehicle blinked as a siren rang.

    He unbuckled and stood, the safety bubble fading instantly.

    Rushing out of the glider, he circled around it to inspect the damage. It was dented in several spots, and one glass surface was cracked, but at least no fire had started.

    An explosion sent him to the ground. He looked back and saw the other glider¡ªthe one that had hit him¡ªburning a few feet away. That one hadn¡¯t been as lucky.

    He approached the wreckage warily.

    As far as he could tell, the flames were only in the back. There was a chance it could spread fast, but he couldn¡¯t just let burn whoever was in there if there was a chance he could save them...

    He could pull it off if he timed it right.

    With a deep breath, he forced the unhinged door to open more and slid through the opening.

    It was getting too warm for comfort in there, but he paid that no heed and turned to the control booth... It was empty!

    Had the owner slipped out without him seeing? He didn¡¯t think that likely.

    He checked over his shoulder but didn¡¯t see any flames, though here too the alarms were blaring loud.

    After a very brief hesitation, he hurried to the controls and tapped into the system. He pressed his wristpad against the vehicle¡¯s sensor, waited a few seconds, then jumped out of the glider and ran away from it.

    Only then did he fall to the ground and take a deep breath.

    He looked at his wristpad to check the copy he¡¯d made of the onboard AI.

    It had been hacked, he realized immediately. There were no traces left of where it had been previously, or who had owned it or sent it.

    Whoever had thrown that glider at him knew exactly what they were doing.

    Someone was on to him.

    He did not like that one bit.

    As he contemplated these dark thoughts, the burning glider exploded.

    ***

    The village itself did not, in fact, have a name. It spread on an island so small it used up all its surface. As the island had a name at the time it was settled, no one ever bothered to name the village. Everyone simply referred to it as Sidut er¡¯Nadiv.

    When Paul¡¯s glider had reached the northernmost part of the land that was level with the village, it had veered eastward and flown above the sea¡¯s turbulent waters for about an hour before finally landing on a parking area at the edge of the island.

    A few locals glanced at him as he stepped out of the vehicle, but went on their way as if they had better things to do than stare at a stranger.

    He did not even bother to ask for directions. It would have been pointless, as the Temple stood high above all the other structures¡ªa testament to the faith of the deity¡¯s followers.

    It was an impressive building, made of pink stone encrusted with sapphires and emeralds. Large pillars rose on each side of the entrance, with statues of naked women lined up in the hall inside.

    As soon as he stepped in, he was approached by a dozen women, all of them wearing short skirts and tight tops with generous cleavage.

    One of them ran her fingers across his chest, smiling.

    ¡°Have you come for a sacrifice?¡±

    He cleared his throat. ¡°No, uhm, I¡¯ve come for answers.¡±

    Another priestess¡ªfor that was what they were, he realized¡ªgiggled. ¡°Then you¡¯ve come to the right place, for is not answering questions the very function of any temple?¡±

    He pulled away from all the groping hands and waved his own in front of him, as if to ward them off.

    ¡°Enough! Stop it! I¡¯ve come to see Raduul. She alone can answer my questions.¡±

    The women pouted when he denied them.

    ¡°The goddess does not answer the questions of mortals,¡± said the youngest among them.

    ¡°Raduul,¡± he said¡ªstill refusing to consider her a goddess, ¡°will answer mine.¡±

    ¡°She does not like arrogance,¡± warned another.

    ¡°I have come a long way to see her.¡±

    ¡°Then you have come for naught. But we can still make it worth your while...¡±

    ¡°Take me to her!¡± he insisted with impatience.

    ¡°She is no longer here.¡±

    ¡°Where can I find her, then?¡±

    ¡°The goddess does not share her comings and goings with us.¡±

    ¡°When will she be back?¡±

    ¡°The goddess does as she pleases...¡±

    He groaned and turned to leave.

    As he walked back down the hall, he suddenly froze.

    All those statues...

    He had seen them, but he hadn¡¯t seen them.

    They had been there all the time, within his field of vision, but he had not paid attention to them.

    Now, for the first time, his eyes noticed the face.

    They all had the same one.

    ¡°Who is that?¡± he asked, pointing at the closest statue.

    ¡°That is She of the sacred heart, She who mounts the gods and replenishes the seas! That is our goddess of lust, of contempt, and of spite. That is our goddess Raduul, blessed be Her name!¡±

    The priestesses swarmed around him, chanting and caressing, soothing and adoring... but he only had eyes for the statue.

    For the statue, he now knew, wore the face of his mother.

    And that was also the face of the mysterious woman he had met in the streets of Joqqal...

    ***

    The call came as he was about to go to bed. He almost did not take it, half expecting a marketing attempt. He¡¯d had a block set up, but every once in a while, a particularly ingenious company managed to circumvent it.

    But it was none of that. It was the CEO of Moonrise, Simon Goodrich.

    ¡°I apologize for the late call. I hope I am not indisposing you, but I have just heard back from our gods, and I assumed you would want to hear right away.¡±

    Ward tried to hide his exasperation at the use of the G-word and nodded instead. ¡°Yes, of course...¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry to inform you that your request has been denied.¡±

    He blinked. ¡°Excuse me?¡±

    ¡°The Zendaar do not authorize you to talk with our employees.¡±

    ¡°Need I remind you that I work for the police?¡±

    ¡°On Exudia, yes. I am well aware, detective.¡±

    ¡°You cannot¡ª¡±

    ¡°They are our gods, detective. They have the final say.¡±

    ¡°This is Weld business,¡± he said, feeling his temper rising. ¡°I can easily get a warrant if you push me to...¡±

    The CEO shrugged. ¡°Do as you must. But I can tell you now it will make no difference. Good night, detective.¡±

    ¡°Wait.¡±

    Goodrich, who was about to cut the communication, paused his gesture. ¡°Yes?¡±

    ¡°I want to meet them.¡±

    ¡°I told you, your request has been¡ª¡±

    ¡°I mean the Zendaar. I want to meet them.¡±

    The little man stared at him. ¡°That... is an unusual request. I am not sure it is a wise one.¡±

    ¡°Are they afraid of offworlders too?¡±

    Goodrich looked displeased by the proposition. ¡°The gods are afraid of nothing.¡±

    ¡°Then set up a meeting.¡±

    ¡°I will do no such thing. However... I will convey to them your latest request. Good night, detective.¡±

    This time, the communication was cut off before Ward could say anything else.

    He paced the room angrily.

    They were denying him? How could anyone deny the police? You couldn¡¯t just say no to being investigated. That wasn¡¯t how it worked. It was the most outrageous thing he¡¯d ever heard.

    Surely, the police here would help him out... or was there so much corruption here that the Zendaar controlled even them? He¡¯d heard of world governments totally in the grip of criminal organizations before... it wasn¡¯t like it was anything new. He just hadn¡¯t expected it here. But why not, after all?

    If that turned out to be the case, though... then what? How would he get to the bottom of this case if those most likely to be involved could end his investigation with just a snap of their fingers?

    He could always turn to the Weld. If anything, they were more powerful than Qojja¡¯s government, and they certainly outranked them. But would the Weld lift a finger? Would they care? For them to get involved directly would require an incentive... They¡¯d have to get something out of it.

    If Ward could find a way to lure them in...

    He slipped into bed, but his foul mood kept him awake all night.

 Part II - Chapter 19

    His friends kept insisting he should see a doctor, but he wouldn¡¯t hear it. His health was his own problem, and he didn¡¯t want anyone sticking their noses into his business.

    Besides, he already had a doctor.

    Jack frowned as he sat up in the bed.

    He was already feeling better. He¡¯d had a few sessions with Paul, and the spells his friend had cast had significantly helped reduce the pains and push away the fever.

    It wouldn¡¯t solve all his problems, of course, but nothing could. Well, almost nothing.

    The boy had left a few hours ago. He was concerned about him, but wasn¡¯t sure what he could do to help. At least, Victor wouldn¡¯t have his crazy family around anymore, but how could a young boy manage all alone? He¡¯d at least send him some money so he could buy the things he needed... it was the least he could do for him.

    A red light blinked on his wristpad, signaling a new message.

    He opened it, stared at it for a long moment, then deleted it with annoyance.

    Time was running out.

    He¡¯d always known it, but things were only getting worse.

    He had to get the mask.

    Quick.

    He cursed Paul for leaving just when he needed him the most.

    It would have been difficult to get to the cave in his current state, sure, but he would have managed. Somehow.

    No, the main problem was that he could not tell his friends why he needed the mask so badly. He could never justify it. So that forced him to concede when Paul suggested he should rest.

    He coughed so hard he had to hold his stomach. He tasted bile in his mouth and walked slowly to the bathroom.

    With difficulty, he bent over the sink, rinsed his mouth with water, wiped his lips with the back of his hand, and looked at himself in the mirror.

    Was he paler than before? His eyes looked tired and red... And were those new wrinkles?

    He groaned as he walked back to the bed. A bit faster, he thought.

    Could another spell help him, he wondered?

    He stopped on the way, pulled a chair, and sat down. It was his way of rebelling against his condition. He would not lay in bed again! That would just turn him into a listless vegetable.

    And though he was stuck here, for now, he could prepare for the next phase.

    He was about to call up the guards at the cave to reserve a time slot when he realized his mistake.

    If he really didn¡¯t want to become a listless vegetable, what he needed was exercise, not a chair and a holovisor.

    He stood, grabbed the cane Will had brought him, and walked out the door.

    ***

    There are those who think Rakash is benevolent... that everything he does, he does for the good of our people.

    Those who think this are not anywhere near his inner circle.

    In reality, Rakash uses us, just like he uses the humans. He did so even with Julia. Though she never seemed to mind it.

    When I asked her once how she could remain so calm when he obviously manipulated her, she had smiled and said: ¡±Would you be angry at a bird for flying?¡±

    It was part of his nature, something beyond even his control. And she accepted him, even loved him, the way he was. Just like she accepted and loved us all the way we were. She never complained, never blamed, never became angry or upset. It was in her nature to embrace people despite their flaws¡ªor perhaps even because of their flaws.

    I am not as understanding or forgiving as she was.

    Sometimes I wish I was.

    It would have made it easier to tolerate Rakash¡¯s abuses. Not of the physical sort¡ªthough he was not averse to occasional bouts of violence¡ªbut rather of the psychological sort.

    He enjoyed watching his preys squirm¡ªwho never attempted to retaliate¡ª, knowing he was untouchable.

    There are things I would have liked to ask him, but never dared.

    Like... what was his oldest memory?

    Or... what does he know of our origins?

    He is one of the oldest among us, with a vast knowledge of history. I expect he would know something of the topic.

    If you wonder why I did not dare ask him something that may seem anecdotal while I sometimes challenged him on other, more delicate matters... It is a fair question.

    It may be that I feared the answers he would give.

    This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

    I believe in the gods.

    He does not.

    Would his answers conflict with my beliefs?

    Most certainly they would.

    Was I willing to accept anything coming from him as the absolute truth?

    Most certainly I would not.

    So what would be the point?

    Satisfying my curiosity, for sure, but at a price I might not be willing to pay.

    There is very little we know about our people¡¯s origins.

    It is ironic for a species with such lengthy lifespans.

    You would think some of us would remember those early days, when we first arrived...

    The fact is that the oldest among us still alive were born well after the event. There were many bloody wars back then which took a heavy toll on our people. All the ancients were killed, and with them went a large chunk of our memories and knowledge.

    We can trace our history back through five hundred generations, all the way to the founding of the Chakoji Nations... But the details are now lost.

    There are hints we could do formidable things back then... such as fly, read thoughts, or sense danger ahead of time. But that knowledge is now forgotten.

    Our books state we came through the Gleaming... But what does it mean?

    These questions, and more, have plagued our people ever since the end of the wars.

    I, and many others, believe the answers are with the Suryi.

    Rakash, and many others, believe the answers lie in alien artifacts.

    We cannot both be right.

    I realize as I write this why I resent Rakash.

    It is not because of his beliefs, which contradict mine.

    Rather, it is because, by forcing me to work for him, he is forcing me to prove that he is right, despite my conviction that he is wrong.

    Though I do not mean to say the artifacts have no value. I¡¯m certain they do. But how could creatures from another world, another species, explain our origins, let alone purpose?

    That makes no sense to me.

    At the same time, though also curious about our origins, I know Rakash is more obsessed with our prison than he is with piercing the secrets of our past.

    That is, after all, the reason he founded the Moonrise Conglomerate.

    Our people are condemned to live on this world. We are bound to it by invisible bonds that none of us comprehend.

    But through Moonrise, Rakash has found a way to reach beyond Qojja, and deep into the heart of the Weld.

    His power is growing.

    ***

    There seemed to be no end to the jungle.

    They had been walking for hours and he had lost track of time and of direction. All trees looked the same to him. How did the silent monks know where to go? Did they? Or were they lost and pretending not to be?

    Michael squashed a mosquito on his neck and cursed.

    ¡°Are we there yet?¡±

    The two monks did not respond. Of course they didn¡¯t. They never did. He wondered if they even understood him at all.

    At least the trees were sheltering them somewhat from the beams of the sun, but it did not dampen the heat or the humidity. He could feel the sweat trickling down his back.

    ¡°Where are we going exactly?¡±

    He wasn¡¯t sure why he even bothered talking. They certainly never bothered to answer. It did make him feel good, like he was still alive. Though the mosquitos were enough to remind him of this, he remarked as he swatted at another.

    Surprisingly, one of the monks responded this time. Not with words, but with a pointed finger.

    Not that it helped any.

    He stared in the direction, straight ahead... there was nothing there but more trees.

    Although...

    Did something glitter?

    Ah! There it was again... Yes. Something bright, reflecting the light of the sun amid the trees.

    Would that be the end of their journey? Or just a resting spot before they hit the road again?

    ¡°How much more time before we get there?¡± he asked, knowing full well there would be no answer.

    They continued to march in silence.

    The monks did not seem bothered by the heat. He could not even spot a drop of sweat on their skin whenever he glanced at them. They were likely used to the climate here, but still... how could a body not react to this assault?

    After a few more hours of trekking, sweating, and mosquito bites, the two monks suddenly stopped. Michael nearly bumped into them, then looked over their shoulders.

    A large chasm spread before them, as far as the eye could see. He had not noticed it at first, because it was riddled with thousands of islands, each covered with trees... if one did not pay attention to the ground, it would just seem like a somewhat less dense part of the jungle.

    Those islands were at the top of long strands of rock that poked out of the gap. On one of them, he noted an antenna amidst the trees that reflected the sun and blinded him when he looked in its direction.

    Michael moved to the edge of the chasm, looked down, and gasped.

    A city sprawled at the bottom, its walls of gold shining in the sun, with glittering towers reaching almost as high as the islands. At first glance, he would have guessed it was even larger than Joqqal.

    One of the monks grabbed his shoulder, startling him. The robed man pointed at a platform a few feet away and motioned for him to get on.

    Michael hesitated. It did not look very safe. There was no railing around it, and its floor was made of thin wood.

    But he was given no choice. He felt the two men push him insistently, so he relented.

    Once all three had stepped on, the platform shook and began a rapid descent¡ªa bit too rapid for Michael¡¯s taste.

    As they went down, he observed the city with fascination. Its streets were teeming with activity. There were lit-up panels with video feeds, fountains of emerald water, noble-looking men riding flying carpets... As they came closer to the bottom, music reached his ears. It was a beautiful, magical, soothing kind of music.

    Though it had felt like forever, it only took a couple of minutes for the device to reach its destination.

    When he got off, two smiling women greeted him.

    ¡°Welcome, stranger.¡±

    It was nice to finally hear the voice of someone else than himself.

    He smiled back. ¡°Where are we?¡±

    They seemed perplexed by his question.

    ¡°Why, in Ahuaxa, of course!¡±

    ***

    His temper did not improve as he flew the rest of the way into town.

    The more he thought about the events of the last twenty-four hours, the more he grew angry. Most of all against himself. He should have expected something to go wrong.

    Ed instructed his glider to take him directly to the Commodore and jumped out as soon as it landed.

    He rushed up the stairs and knocked at Jack¡¯s door.

    There was no answer.

    He knocked again.

    Still nothing.

    Annoyed, he hurried back to the front desk.

    The man who greeted him was not Rose.

    ¡°Mr. Arnett? Oh, I saw him leave about twenty minutes ago.¡±

    ¡°Any idea where he went?¡±

    ¡°No, I¡¯m sorry, sir...¡±

    He ran out of the hotel and got back into his glider.

    ¡°Take me to the mask,¡± he instructed the AI. ¡°As fast as possible.¡±

    The vehicle took off and headed in the requested direction.

    It was a quick ride.

    There too, Ed jumped out as soon as the glider landed, and rushed into the gateway. He called out for the guards.

    The one who had called him earlier¡ªhis name was Bob¡ªrecognized him. He looked troubled as he came to meet him.

    ¡°Oh, Mr. Gyldenstierne. I don¡¯t understand... I thought Mr. Arnett had left town, but he was here a few minutes ago.¡±

    ¡°That was not him,¡± said Ed dismissively. ¡°I mean the one you sent me after. Is Arnett still here?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± said another guard. ¡°But he did schedule a session with the mask for tonight.¡±

    ¡°What time?¡±

    The man tapped on his wristpad and checked through the logs. ¡°Seven, looks like.¡±

    Ed grunted. ¡°Alright. Thanks. I¡¯ll be back. Oh, and if you see him again, do not tell him I¡¯m looking for him.¡±

    ¡°Will do. Or not, rather.¡±

    Ed left.

    Seven.

    That meant three hours to kill.

    He decided to go back to his hotel and eat something.

    Get a few things ready, too, just in case...

    One way or another, he would get answers tonight.

 Part II - Chapter 20

    Could that woman really be his mother?

    It was a shocking thought.

    And yet, Paul had to admit there had been some sort of connection there, one that had troubled him. He¡¯d put it off to her sensuality, but he realized now it was something different altogether.

    There had been something about her that felt different, other, unnatural...

    Godly?

    He frowned. That was a ridiculous notion.

    His glider was speeding back toward Joqqal when a beep in his ear signaled an incoming call.

    ¡°Hello?¡±

    Jack¡¯s face appeared on his retina. From the background, he could tell his friend was no longer in his room, but walking in the streets of the city¡ªalbeit slowly.

    ¡°How¡¯s your search going?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯m still processing stuff. What¡¯s up?¡±

    Jack quirked a brow but chose not to press the matter. ¡°I¡¯m on my way to the cave. Going to book us a slot. Thought I¡¯d check in with you to see when you¡¯d be back.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m on my way right now, actually...¡±

    ¡°Oh, great! So would tonight work?¡±

    Paul frowned. What was with Jack and that mask?

    Then again, it was not like he knew where to look to find that woman. And if he got the mask out of the way, he¡¯d be able to focus on his search.

    Besides, he was still curious himself. He hadn¡¯t had much time to think about the mask, what with this whole business with Alyssya and the Temple, but...

    ¡°Sure. I expect to be back by six.¡±

    ¡°Alright, I¡¯ll book us a spot at seven.¡±

    He cut off the call and looked through the window at the sea.

    The memories from his first attempt came rushing back, and it made him feel euphoric. It had been a unique experience. He realized he was eager to reconnect with those energies, to feel them course through him once again.

    He tapped on the TriVid screen to activate the onboard AI.

    ¡°What do you have on the name Raduul?¡±

    ¡°Raduul, in Qojjan folklore, is one of the Zendaar. She is the goddess of lust, contempt, and spite. Most of her worshippers are females, though there are some known males as well. She is believed to¡ª¡±

    ¡°Where does she live?¡± he interrupted.

    ¡°According to legend, she lives in her Temple in the village of Sidut er¡¯Nadiv.¡±

    ¡°Does she have any other known residences... in Joqqal, maybe?¡±

    ¡°There are none in my records.¡±

    He stared through the window at the agitated waves. A storm was raging out there, which he thought was fitting considering how things felt inside his head.

    ¡°Is there any known procedure... prayers, or somesuch... that one is supposed to do, or say, to summon her?¡±

    ¡°One does not summon a god,¡± came the response.

    Paul squinted at the screen. Had there been a hint of disapproval in the voice?

    ¡°Whatever,¡± he muttered.

    He fell quiet for the remainder of the trip, contemplating his thoughts.

    ***

    The winds were howling when she stepped out of her glider. The scent of sulfur caught in her throat, making her cough.

    Susan ran to the door and entered the office building.

    There was a directory in the hall, listing all the businesses headquartered here. She scanned through the names until she found Lucaan Labs. They had four full floors just for them.

    The elevator took her to the reception area, where she requested to see a manager.

    ¡°What is this about?¡±

    ¡°A personal matter,¡± said Susan.

    The secretary did not seem to like that answer.

    ¡°I can give you an appointment for next week,¡± she responded dryly.

    ¡°Please. It¡¯s about my parents. And it is rather urgent. If I could see someone now, I would really appreciate it...¡±

    The other woman squinted at her. ¡°Let me see if there¡¯s someone available.¡±

    She spent a moment working on her TriVid screen, then looked back up.

    ¡°Alright, Mr. Jones can see you. He¡¯ll be waiting for you in office 22. It¡¯s right down the hall to your left.¡±

    Susan thanked her and hurried down the indicated corridor.

    The door slid open as soon as she buzzed.

    A young man with short black hair stood and shook her hand.

    ¡°Hello. My name is Julian Jones. How may I help you? And please, have a seat.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m Susan Caine,¡± she said as she sat. ¡°My parents passed away five years ago and I am trying to understand some things about them. For instance...¡± She brought up on her wristpad a copy of the bank reports. ¡°I discovered they received substantial payments from Lucaan Labs for six months... Could you tell me what these were for?¡±

    ¡°You say they are deceased?¡±

    Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°My condolences, Miss Caine. Well. In that case, I suppose it could not hurt to give you that information... But I will need to make some verifications. Do you have some ID, and perhaps documents attesting to your parents¡¯ passing and proving you are related?¡±

    ¡°Yes, of course. I have all of that right here.¡±

    She had the proper files transferred to the man¡¯s wristpad. He browsed through them quickly, then gave her a satisfied nod.

    ¡°Perfect. Very well, let¡¯s see what we can dig up...¡±

    He turned to his TriVid terminal and typed in the names of her parents.

    ¡°Wilma and David Caine... Oh.¡±

    The manager stiffened as his demeanor changed.

    ¡°What is it?¡±

    He gave her a disapproving look. ¡°Your parents were criminals.¡± There was reproach in his voice. ¡°You had not mentioned this.¡±

    ¡°What? They most certainly were not!¡±

    ¡°Says so right here. Convicted twice, even.¡±

    ¡°Convicted? I don¡¯t understand...¡±

    ¡°Breach of contract, in both cases. Once with the government, once with us. Lucaan also brought charges of theft against them.¡±

    Susan was startled. How could this be possible? Surely, there must be an error...

    ¡°Do you know the details?¡±

    ¡°Of course.¡± He tapped at his screen. ¡°It¡¯s all right here. Your father signed up to be a test subject with us. It was an experiment involving alien technology with a twelve-month commitment. Your parents fled after six. As for the government, well, they were among the early settlers. As such, they were obligated by contract to stay at least thirty years. They fled after thirteen.¡±

    That was the most incredible thing she had ever heard. Could this have led to their deaths? It was a crazy notion. You¡¯d expect someone to be sued for breach of contract, not murdered.

    ¡°You also mentioned theft?¡±

    The man looked embarrassed. ¡°Yes. Your father still had alien technology inside of him when he left the planet. That was Lucaan property. Thus the theft charges.¡±

    ¡°Wait... You said they were convicted? How is that possible if they were no longer here?¡±

    ¡°A trial was held, despite their absence, and they were found guilty of all charges.¡±

    Susan stared at Jones. She was speechless.

    ***

    Walking had made him feel better¡ªas had the fresh air¡ª, so Jack had gone to the seafront. He had always enjoyed watching the boats coming and going. He had dreamed, once, of becoming a sailor. It had been a childhood fantasy, of course, but his love for everything nautical had never faded.

    At six o¡¯clock, he had met up with Paul and Will, and they had gone to eat at a local restaurant.

    Paul had been fairly quiet, not wanting to comment on his experience. They¡¯d figured it must not have been a pleasant one and moved on to other topics.

    When the time came to go to the cave, they¡¯d paid the bill and headed out.

    But by then, Jack was exhausted.

    He had been out too long, and his whole body was aching. His breath had grown short.

    ¡°Is everything okay?¡± had asked Will with concern in his voice.

    ¡°Yes... just... I¡¯ll be fine.¡± He had coughed. ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡±

    But he was walking slowly, and Paul had stopped him.

    ¡°No. You¡¯re not well. You¡¯ve been up too long. You need to rest.¡±

    ¡°Who made you my doctor?¡± had asked Jack, a bit more harshly than he had intended.

    ¡°I did,¡± his friend had snapped back. ¡°Since you won¡¯t see a real one, I¡¯ll have to do. So, we¡¯re taking you back to the hotel...¡±

    ¡°No!¡±

    They had both stared at him.

    Jack had shaken his head. ¡°Really, I¡¯m¡ª¡± he had coughed, ¡°¡ªfine.¡±

    Paul had crossed his arms. ¡°I¡¯m not going anywhere until you agree to go back to the hotel.¡±

    ¡°Alright! Fine!¡± had said Jack angrily. ¡°But I¡¯ll only go back if you agree to go on to the cave. The slot is ours. We can¡¯t pass this up.¡±

    ¡°The guards won¡¯t let us in without you,¡± had remarked Will.

    ¡°They will if you have this.¡±

    He had pulled a badge out of his pocket and handed it to Paul.

    ¡°If they give you any trouble, just call me.¡±

    ¡°I should walk you back,¡± had offered Will.

    Jack had glared at him. ¡°I¡¯m not a cripple! I¡¯ll do just fine.¡±

    Without another word, he had turned and headed to the hotel. He had been too upset to even look back.

    He should have been there with them!

    But he was smart enough to realize he was in no shape.

    Most of all, he was angry with himself. He shouldn¡¯t have spent so much time outdoors. He should have been more careful, especially tonight, what with this visit to the cave planned out.

    He wanted to be there, but there was no real need for it. Paul was the one with the power. He would get the mask and bring it to him later.

    What an annoyance!

    He was now walking slowly, coughing and scratching his chest, when he heard a voice call out his name.

    ¡°Mr. Arnett?¡±

    He looked up. His hotel was within sight, just a few feet away. A young and tall man with short and curly brown hair came in his direction.

    ¡°Yes?¡±

    ¡°Ed Gyldenstierne,¡± said the other with some relief. He brought out a badge with the seal of the Weld. ¡°Imperial government has tasked me with investigating all operations related to the mask.¡±

    Jack frowned. ¡°What? Why?¡±

    ¡°Standard procedure.¡±

    ¡°Nonsense! There¡¯s nothing standard about this... Let me see that badge again.¡±

    The man handed it to him. Jack examined it. It looked genuine enough.

    ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± said the young official. ¡°There¡¯s nothing standard about this. But neither is there about your own actions.¡±

    Jack shot Ed a suspicious look.

    ¡°What is that supposed to mean?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re a historian, Mr. Arnett. You don¡¯t need to have the mask to study it. Yet, I¡¯ve read many alarming reports about how committed you are to removing it from the wall.¡±

    ¡°What is it to you?¡± he asked as he gave the man his badge back, then pushed past him toward the hotel.

    Ed put his ID away and walked by the historian¡¯s side.

    ¡°It¡¯s just abnormal behavior, so our system flagged it.¡±

    ¡°And how is it alarming? You¡¯re not making any sense, Mr. Gyldenstierne.¡±

    As Ed was about to reply, he suddenly gritted his teeth and held his head as if he was in a great deal of pain.

    Jack stopped walking to stare at him.

    ¡°Sir? Are you alright?¡±

    Ed shook his head. ¡°The mask! No! What have you done?¡±

    He spun and ran toward the cave.

    ***

    There were three guards at the entrance. None of them made any trouble.

    They asked where Jack was, looked at the pass, recognized Will, and let them through.

    Will sat on the bench, as he had previously.

    Paul crouched in front of the mask, as he had previously.

    Though he positioned himself closer now... close enough that he could touch it if he reached out, as he knew he would.

    He took a deep breath, shut his eyes, and focused.

    Almost instantly, the familiar energies burst into a stream of light and engulfed him. Though his eyes were closed, he could see the colors spinning on the mask¡¯s surface as it came to life, losing its rocky complexion.

    He raised his hands and reached out.

    The power was pulsing, spreading, calling... he chose to embrace it, and it embraced him back. It was electrifying. When his fingers connected with the skin¡ªbecause he knew it was skin at that very instant¡ªthe mask became a part of him, and he became a part of it. They were one. And as one, they understood each other. At least, to some extent.

    It was ancient, it was alive, it was powerful...

    He saw stars come to life, grow, burn brighter, then fizzle out and die. He saw galaxies in their infancy become giant entities, then get sucked out of existence. He saw black holes swallowing worlds, strange creatures floating through space as if they were fish in the ocean.

    He saw infinity, and it saw him.

    He saw time, and it saw him.

    There was pain in this power as well.

    He could feel it just as vividly as all the rest. But it was drowned out by the beauty and the majesty.

    There was a purpose, too, one he did not understand.

    But it did not matter.

    With his mind, he ran down the threads that dug deep into the stone. They went far, too far to follow... but that too did not matter. It was easy enough to sever those bindings, to break the mask free of its prison.

    The power was his, now. It had come home. They belonged to each other.

    When he opened his eyes, he realized he held the mask in his hands.

    He looked up at the wall.

    The spot where it had rested was all rock now

    With five black circular holes in the center.

    ***

    Ed was still running toward the cave at the moment the mask was pulled off. From the searing pain alone, he knew he was too late...

    He lifted his hands and watched as they began to dissolve and disappear. Every inch of his body, little by little, evaporated into thin air.

    His face, filled with terror, was the last to go.

    ***

    At the entrance to the cave, the guard Bob waited. He was standing there in anticipation when the mask was pulled off.

    He watched as his own body evaporated into thin air.

    His face, filled with hunger, was the last to go.

    ***

    In the city of Tiqqur, the Jack look-alike was waiting in his parked glider when the mask was pulled off.

    He watched as his own body evaporated into thin air.

    His face, filled with hope, was the last to go.

    ***

    Don¡ªMichael¡¯s good friend, who had not spent much time looking for him... in fact, none at all¡ªwas sipping a cocktail at his hotel¡¯s swimming pool when the mask was pulled off.

    He watched as his own body evaporated into thin air.

    His face, filled with joy, was the last to go.

    And, as it did so, he whispered: ¡°Finally...¡±

 Part III - Chapter 1

    When he opened his eyes, he recognized nothing save the pain which coursed through his veins. He would have screamed, but a sense of immediate danger refrained him.

    As the pain receded and his senses returned, the memories did as well. His body tensed as he recited the code that would unlock the pod in which he had lain dormant for the past five thousand years.

    The man had sparkling blue eyes, a small nose, and a barely visible scar above his right brow, which he distractedly scratched as he rose and stepped out into the dark chamber.

    ¡°Lights,¡± he called out.

    His voice was deep and hoarse from unuse, but the instruction was recognized nonetheless, and he was soon bathed in brightness.

    There were consoles on the walls, but he paid them no heed. Instead, he headed straight for the door, which opened as he approached.

    He walked through long, empty, dark halls that lit up as he moved. His pace quickened with every step, as his long idle legs adjusted to the exercise. He was fully aware that had it been a human body, it would have been much more difficult for him to resume normal activity so quickly... but then again, had it been a human body, it would not have endured so long.

    A door slid open before him and he entered a smaller, circular room with a seat in its center, and floating panels all around.

    He sat and tapped some quick instructions.

    A display appeared in the air before him.

    His eyes scanned through the writings. Though none of it looked anything like a human language, he understood all of it.

    He let out a sigh of relief as he finished going through the report.

    The prisoners were awake, though they had not escaped... Yet.

    But he knew it now only was a matter of time. They would eventually find a way to break through all of the safeguards.

    With a few quick gestures, he sent multiple commands through the machine.

    The circular wall around him shifted and faded, as did the ceiling and floor, all replaced with stars.

    He glanced to his left and saw it.

    Peaceful and unsuspecting.

    He had to retrieve the mask and put it back in its place before it was too late.

    With another motion of his fingers, he made the ship spin and speed toward the surface of Qojja.

    ***

    How could he have been so wrong?

    Never in his wildest dreams would he have guessed that the city of the gods was hidden in the jungle of a different continent! He had always thought it to be closer to the capital.

    Another thing he¡¯d been wrong about was that he believed the city to be in ruins, abandoned for hundreds of years.

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    This was obviously not the case.

    But how could these people have maintained their location secret for so long?

    Michael glanced at the mute monks who had returned to the platform and now headed back to the surface, leaving him alone with his lovely hosts.

    If these were the only people who knew where the city was, he could see how they had managed to maintain secrecy. Still. With technology, it should have at least appeared on satellite feeds and geological sensors...

    ¡°Would you follow us please?¡±

    The bag with the precious journal was now in the hands of one of the smiling women.

    They turned and started down a path paved with gold... literally. He had never seen anything like it.

    He walked behind them, staring all around.

    And what about this god business? These people looked perfectly normal. Nothing godly about them. They were wealthy¡ªtechnologically and magically advanced¡ªbut none of this made them gods.

    They walked through emerald arches and crossed bridges over shiny purple waters. Soon, they arrived before a large structure¡ªit, too, seemed made of gold. It had been built following an unusual architectural design, with walls inclined at odd angles.

    People stood there, in a court. Four men and three women. One of them in particular drew Michael¡¯s attention.

    He had short white hair and pale skin. His clothing, though white as well, was of impeccable taste and hinted at a noble lineage. The man exuded respect and authority.

    His back was turned to Michael, as he spoke to another man¡ªone slightly taller, with long black hair, deep brown eyes, wearing a leather jacket, and leaning on a cane.

    As they arrived, the conversation stopped, and the white-haired man turned to face Michael. His eyes, too, were white, he realized with a shudder, and a silver pendant hung from his neck. There was something about him that felt different... not just about this one man, but all those gathered here oozed a strangeness he couldn¡¯t quite comprehend or describe.

    The man stared at him for a long time.

    Finally, he looked at the women who had brought him and snapped: ¡°What is that?¡±

    Michael blushed. He felt dirty at that moment, filthy, as if he had been some piece of trash brought into a clean house by a dog. In fact, the women behaved much like you might have expected such a dog to behave. They lowered their heads and fell to their knees, their voices trembling:

    ¡°He was brought with the documents, master. We beg your forgiveness if it displeases you...¡±

    The bag was held up for him, though their eyes remained downcast.

    Michael watched with fascination, wondering if he should say or do something... was he expected to kneel as well?

    The man with the white hair walked up to the women and took the bag from them without another word. He opened it and glanced inside. A slight smile formed on his lips. It vanished just as quickly as his gaze returned to Michael.

    ¡°Go,¡± he commanded the women as he slowly walked up to the archaeologist. They stood and ran away. ¡°I trust you now fully understand the reason why I summoned you here?¡±

    Michael blinked as he tried to maintain eye contact with this odd person, all the while attempting to come up with an appropriate response.

    ¡°Your actions can never be fully clear to one such as me, Uncle.¡±

    The archaeologist was relieved. The words had not been meant for him, but for the man with the cane. He had no time to relax, however, as dread spread inside him. The pieces of the puzzle were slowly falling into place.

    But how was this possible? It couldn¡¯t be...

    ¡°Don¡¯t sell yourself short, Evken,¡± said the white-haired man with a wicked smile, his eyes still boring into Michael¡¯s soul. ¡°You are not as stupid as you¡¯d like others to believe. Still... this might prove useful to help you understand how costly your actions can be.¡±

    Michael¡¯s heart was beating fast now, and he could still feel sweat dripping down his neck. He thought he should say something, but the words remained caught in his throat.

    As if he had sensed this¡ªor perhaps it was a mere coincidence¡ªthe white-haired man suddenly lifted a hand and, with a very casual gesture, slashed his clawed nails across the archaeologist¡¯s throat, cutting it wide open.

    Michael¡¯s hands shot up to the wound, but his blood flooded out too fast. He fell to his knees, gurgling.

    The man with the cane watched him with sadness. There was pain in those eyes, as well, and perhaps a hint of guilt.

    The white-haired man, no longer paying the archaeologist any attention, turned and walked up to Evken. He handed him the bag.

    ¡°This belongs to you. I would advise you to take better care of it in the future.¡±

    Michael fell to the ground. He could feel his strength seeping out and darkness engulfing him.

    The last thing he saw was the white-haired man¡ªwhom he now knew with certainty to be Rakash¡ªleaving the premises as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

    He closed his eyes, and all went dark.

 Part III - Chapter 2

    Lying in his bed, he worried.

    Did something go wrong?

    And who was that man who had come to him?

    Jack coughed and sat up, wiping his forehead.

    The pain was bearable at the moment, but he knew it wouldn¡¯t last.

    Where was Paul?

    Why was it taking so long?

    He hated that he¡¯d had to come back to his room. He¡¯d wanted to fight his aches on his own terms, but he had clearly lost that battle. He kept telling himself it was just a passing phase, he just needed to recover from his captivity...

    But what if it had just accelerated his condition?

    He tapped on his wristpad and reread the message he¡¯d received from his doctor.

    The knock at his door startled him.

    He swiped the document off the screen and asked the room¡¯s AI to let his visitor in.

    Jack was relieved to see Paul walk in.

    With the mask!

    He held it in one hand.

    ¡°You did it!¡±

    ¡°I did,¡± answered his friend.

    There was a hint of wistfulness in his voice.

    ¡°Did something go wrong?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± said Paul. ¡°It was, in fact, easier than I had expected.¡±

    Jack held out his hand.

    ¡°Great! I knew you could do it! You¡¯re amazing, buddy.¡±

    Paul kept the mask in his fist and stared down at it.

    ¡°It called to me,¡± he whispered.

    ¡°What?¡± asked Jack impatiently as he waved his hand as if to say ¡®hey! I¡¯m here! look at me!¡¯

    ¡°I don¡¯t know how to describe it... it was like... there was a connection between us.¡±

    The historian frowned. ¡°Are you suggesting it is sentient?¡±

    ¡°No. Maybe. I don¡¯t know.¡±

    With a sigh, and a bit reluctantly, Paul finally placed the mask in Jack¡¯s still outstretched hand.

    ¡°You¡¯ll take good care of it, won¡¯t you?¡± he asked longingly.

    It was an odd thing to ask for, thought Jack, but he was too excited to give it much thought.

    ¡°Of course,¡± he answered distractedly as he turned the item in his hands, examining it from every angle.

    Now that it no longer was on its wall, it had yet a different texture¡ªneither rock nor flesh, it appeared more like some sort of plastic. The inside was riddled with what looked like thousands of electric circuits. It felt soft in his hands, though, and warm.

    ¡°What will you do with it?¡±

    Jack blinked as he looked up at his friend, surprised to find him still in his room. Hadn¡¯t he left? He thought he had.

    ¡°I... I will study it. What else?¡± He hoped his smile felt genuine enough.

    Paul opened his mouth and closed it. Frowned. Nodded.

    ¡°I¡¯ll be seeing you around,¡± he said as he turned and left the room.

    Jack was ecstatic.

    He looked down at the mask again.

    Finally!

    He was already feeling better for it... He knew it was an illusion, of course, as having the mask would not affect him in any way. That wasn¡¯t the point, after all. Not the point at all.

    Then he worried again as he remembered the man in the street. Who was he? Would he come back and try to take the mask from him?

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    He could not allow it!

    Seized with an irrational fear, he jumped out of the bed, tossed all his belongings into two bags, and gently laid the mask at the top¡ªmaking sure it wouldn¡¯t get damaged.

    Grabbing his bags, he hurried to the front desk and checked out.

    Only once in the streets did he begin to feel relief.

    The man wouldn¡¯t know where to find him now.

    But where was he going to go?

    He walked aimlessly through the streets of Joqqal and disappeared into the crowd.

    ***

    All the recent revelations were now making her doubt everything she had believed in. Her parents had been convicted criminals! Granted, it was not quite as bad as it sounded, but it still gave a very different spin to the story, and to her entire life.

    Her parents must have known they had broken the law. They had been on the run!

    Had the law caught up with them?

    Had Lucaan sent killers?

    Had the government?

    The thought was preposterous. That couldn¡¯t be it. There must have been something else. It must be a coincidence.

    By the time the glider landed at her house, the winds had quieted down. But she knew it would only be a short respite.

    She hurried out of the vehicle and into the building.

    ¡°Welcome home, Susan,¡± said the AI.

    ¡°Thanks,¡± she answered with a smile. ¡°Have there been any calls?¡±

    ¡°None.¡±

    She took off her coat and went into her father¡¯s office. As she was about to sit down, a sharp sound rang in the room, as of breaking glass, and she felt a pain in her shoulder that made her instinctively fall to the floor.

    A couple more thuds resounded as an alarm blared.

    ¡°Security breach! Security breach! Shots fired! The police have been called.¡±

    The AI¡¯s voice was high-pitched and loud. The rationale was that it would scare off any potential thief or, in this case, sniper. The shots did stop at that point, though, so perhaps it wasn¡¯t so far off.

    She glanced at the window. Three holes were clearly visible where the bullets had come through. The wind outside had risen again and it generated a whistling sound as it blew through the openings.

    ¡°Stop the alarm,¡± she called out.

    The house became quiet again, safe for the howling wind.

    Had someone just tried to kill her?

    She looked around the room and found markings where the bullets had perforated the walls.

    Why?

    Her heart was beating fast, she realized. Was it because of her conversation with Jones?

    It had to be!

    This was just one coincidence too many.

    Had the manager told her something he shouldn¡¯t have? Then, realizing his mistake, sent someone to silence her?

    And yet, everything he¡¯d told her must be public knowledge if there had been a trial.

    She went into the living room to wait for the police. There were no windows there, as it was at the center of the house. It made her feel safer. Maybe the killer was still out there, waiting for another opportunity. He must have known he¡¯d missed her.

    Or was it intentional? Was it just meant as a warning?

    If so, she didn¡¯t understand the message.

    It was infuriating more than anything.

    When the police finally arrived, she described the events without mentioning her visit to Lucaan Labs.

    ¡°Do you have any idea who could have shot at you?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± she answered truthfully. ¡°It doesn¡¯t make any sense.¡±

    But a little voice inside her head insisted Lucaan was behind it all... she just needed to prove it.

    ***

    There were three of them sitting in the bare room.

    The walls were white. The ceiling was white. The floor was white.

    There was no furniture here, safe for the three cryogenic tubes.

    No windows, either. And no doors.

    The three sat in the lotus position, forming a circle, with their eyes closed.

    The oldest among them, who also was their leader, was named Xhoras. He had long silvery hair, thin lips, and a crooked nose. He wore a ring with a crescent moon.

    The second man was Udrak. He was taller than the other two, and more muscular. His hair was short and dark blue. He, too, wore a ring with a crescent moon.

    The third was a woman named Verlhynn. Her scarlet hair fell to her waist. She, as well, wore a ring with a crescent moon.

    All three wore the same gray suit, something that looked like a uniform. The crescent moon motif had been sewn into the breast area.

    The one named Xhoras snapped his eyes open and stood.

    ¡°Did you find it?¡± asked the woman, hopefully.

    The leader did not respond as he scanned the room again.

    ¡°There has to be a way out...¡± whispered Udrak.

    Xhoras walked toward one of the walls and tapped against its surface.

    They had been looking for a way out for hours, ever since they had woken up and broken free from the tubes.

    The tubes themselves had cables running out of them, though those did not seem to connect to anything as they ended in empty air.

    That had made Xhoras snicker. ¡°Smart.¡±

    But even if the connection wasn¡¯t visible, there had to be one. It just was a matter of finding it. Once they had that, they could dig their way out.

    There was also, of course, the small matter of the netherchalk walls. The special fabric was well known to weaken their capacities. But even that would not suffice if they found the weak spot.

    And Xhoras believed he had.

    He tapped the wall again and listened for the echo.

    It was a simple matter of tearing the threads out of the wall now, which would expose the conduits.

    He motioned for the others to join him and, together, they grasped at the air until they felt a slight resistance. Then, with gestures perfected through millennia of experience, they tightened their grip, twisted in a counterclockwise motion once, then twice in the opposite direction. There was a clicking sound followed by a shift in the air.

    The cables connecting the tubes to the walls became visible.

    ¡°Yes!¡± cheered Verlhynn.

    Xhoras clicked his tongue in disapproval. The woman lowered her eyes, though she knew better than to apologize.

    They grabbed the cables and, with their cumulated strength¡ªwhich was formidable¡ªpulled.

    It took a long time, but what were a few more hours to them at this stage? It mattered little. It would be well worth it, in the end.

    With a popping sound, the cables were torn, and the connection severed.

    They looked at the five holes and grinned.

    Xhoras slid a hand into one of them and pressed his palm against the cold stone surface. Closing his eyes, he focused. He willed the hole to grow, and it did. Larger and larger, until it merged with the four others. And still, it grew. And soon, it was large enough for them to walk through.

    They did so and, as they advanced in the darkness, the three ran their fingers against the rocky structure which surrounded them.

    ¡°I am so hungry,¡± muttered the tall one.

    Xhoras hushed him with a glare.

    The surface around them shuttered and vibrated, the way ahead enlarging to give them passage as they pressed on.

    There was a slight slant to the ground, but that was to be expected... They were, after all, heading up.

    Up toward the surface of Qojja.

 Part III - Chapter 3

    The ship was invisible¡ªboth to the eye and to sensors. There was no technology¡ªhuman or otherwise¡ªcapable of detecting it, for its design was more advanced than any other in the universe.

    Still, he chose to land in the depths of the sea. Part of him, accustomed to centuries of human life, still worried about impossible things.

    It would be a short swim to the coast, and from there a quick ride to Joqqal.

    As he was set to exit the ship, a shudder went through him¡ªan all too familiar feeling. He returned to the control room, and the reports confirmed what he suspected: the prisoners had found their way out.

    He cursed.

    Things kept taking a turn for the worse. And he was always one step behind.

    This was not good. Not good at all.

    He plunged into the water, swam his way to the surface, and then to the shore.

    Now the mask would not be enough. He¡¯d also have to find them, catch them, and somehow contain them again.

    The mask would still be required though, to put everything back in place.

    But first things first.

    He¡¯d find whoever took the mask¡ªthough he wasn¡¯t quite sure how yet¡ªand get it back from them.

    He was glad to have his body back, but there would be drawbacks as well. He would have no cover now, no identity, no authority. He could force his way through most situations, but that would draw too much unwanted attention. But there would be times when he knew it might be necessary.

    Another drawback, he realized as he got out of the water, was that he had no glider. He¡¯d have to walk to the city.

    He looked to the south, where the outlines of Joqqal cut against the night sky.

    A glider would not be too difficult to obtain once he got there. But in the meantime, he¡¯d only have his feet.

    He began to walk, quickening his pace as he went. At least, he wouldn¡¯t tire so easily now.

    ***

    He spent the next day roaming the streets of Joqqal. And though he had set out to look for the mysterious woman, his mind kept wandering back to the mask.

    It had been the most difficult thing he¡¯d ever done. Giving it to Jack.

    When he¡¯d taken it from the wall, it had felt like it belonged to him. It had become a part of him. Giving it away was like ripping a part of his soul.

    And yet...

    He knew it wasn¡¯t his, never had been.

    And, if anything, he was a man of his word.

    He could not have kept it.

    Besides, what would he have done with it?

    It was a fascinating artifact, for sure, but it served no purpose.

    That thought troubled him.

    Because he knew it did serve a purpose. He just did not know what. Either way, it did not serve one that would have affected him.

    No, there would have been no reason to keep it. It would just have been a distraction.

    That made him laugh. As if it wasn¡¯t a distraction now.

    People gave him strange looks as they walked past him. He ignored them, shaking his head with a grin on his face.

    Well, he didn¡¯t have it anymore, so there was no point in letting it haunt him this way. He¡¯d done what Jack wanted, now it was time for him to focus on what he wanted. Needed, even.

    He entered yet another shop and described the scantily clad woman. Despite not knowing her name¡ªhe doubted she went around as the goddess Raduul¡ª, he guessed her figure was unique enough that, sooner or later, someone was bound to recognize her.

    Nor was he wrong. Several, already, had. Though none of them could tell him where to find her. People had noticed her¡ªof course, they had¡ª, strolling proudly through the streets, in the park, or by the seafront.

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    But still, he did not know where to find her.

    Again, he described the supposed goddess, for perhaps the hundredth time, and again he saw that same expression of awe and admiration¡ªthough sometimes it had been consternation and disgust, depending on the individual.

    ¡°I¡¯ve seen her around,¡± said the merchant. ¡°Difficult to forget.¡±

    ¡°Do you know where I can find her?¡± he asked.

    The man made a face. ¡°I don¡¯t know that it¡¯s the kind of lady you¡¯d want to find...¡±

    ¡°Let me worry about that,¡± he said irritably.

    ¡°I really don¡¯t know, I¡¯m sorry.¡±

    ¡°I do,¡± said a small voice from behind the counter.

    They both turned to the boy who had talked.

    ¡°You do?¡± asked the startled merchant.

    The child looked down, ashamed. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, pa. I followed her the other day. I don¡¯t know why...¡±

    Hope flared inside Paul¡¯s heart.

    ¡°Can you tell me where she went?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± said the boy. ¡°But I can show you.¡±

    ***

    The news of the theft had spread among them like wildfire. It was all they could talk of. And for good reason. It was, after all, at the heart of all their beliefs.

    ¡°We must find it!¡± said a man in a blue suit.

    ¡°Do we even know who has it?¡± asked a woman with auburn hair.

    Sitting at the back of the room, Evken listened quietly as his brothers argued.

    It was a major development, but his mind kept going back to the prior day¡¯s incident.

    Not that he should have been surprised by how Rakash had reacted, but he had not expected him to find out about the journal. He was not supposed to find out. It was to be his ticket out. Now he¡¯d have to find something else.

    He was not so naive to think humans would have been able to do anything against Rakash himself. But by opening their eyes to his true nature, he had hoped they would at least have stopped his growing influence among them¡ªthere are ways they could have done that.

    ¡°Evken?¡±

    He blinked out of his reverie, realizing someone had been talking to him. He looked up and saw everyone staring in his direction.

    ¡°What?¡± he asked.

    ¡°You¡¯ve had the most interactions with the humans, among us all, would you take care of it?¡±

    ¡°Take care of what?¡±

    Even as he asked, he realized what the answer was and cringed at the thought.

    ¡°Would you go get the mask for us?¡±

    Why did it bother him so much? It was, after all, the one thing that could wake the gods and get him the answers he had craved for all his life. Was this not more important than even Rakash?

    That was assuming they could not only find but also use it. He somehow felt it would not be quite so simple.

    ¡°I will try,¡± he reluctantly agreed. ¡°Do we have any leads?¡±

    ¡°Our spies report there were two men in the cave when it was taken. One of them must have it.¡±

    He was given their names and descriptions, after which the meeting was adjourned.

    Evken returned to his home, thinking of the human who had been killed by Rakash before him. Just to teach him a lesson.

    No, he realized, that was not true. He should not blame himself for that. The human¡¯s life had become forfeit as soon as he¡¯d set foot in Ahuaxa. He would never have been allowed to leave alive.

    He could have been kept here as a servant, he mused. He¡¯d still be alive, then. Were it not for me.

    Why did he care, though?

    He did not know that human. He meant nothing to him.

    And yet, his heart had broken when he¡¯d seen him fall to the ground and bleed out.

    It was not like his kind to grieve over humans. But then, he¡¯d never been like the others. Not since Julia.

    He frowned.

    Julia had changed him, that was a fact. And yet, she had spent just as much time with Rakash, if not more. The real question was... why had he not changed? Or maybe he had but in a different, darker, way. He could not know, he had never met him at the time. He had nothing to compare.

    He chased those thoughts to focus on his new task.

    The mask was all that mattered now.

    That, and waking the old gods.

    ***

    The good news had sent shudders down his spine. Could he be so lucky? This would be cause for celebration!

    ¡°Thomas!¡±

    A lank waif scuttled to him and bowed his head low.

    ¡°You are not Thomas,¡± he said with a frown.

    ¡°No, your Lordship, I am Valins.¡±

    Valerian¡¯s frown increased.

    ¡°Where is Thomas?¡±

    ¡°You bled him to death, your Lordship, and then fed him to your dogs. He was lucky you blessed him so!¡±

    ¡°Ah yes,¡± said Valerian with a wicked smile. ¡°I remember now. He had dared to suggest a change in my wine.¡±

    ¡°Oh most blessed of all the blessed, you are the wisest among the wisest!¡±

    ¡°Indeed. And let that be a lesson to you!¡±

    He paced back and forth.

    ¡°I have had wonderful news, Thomas.¡± He paused, glancing back at the still kneeling child. ¡°Valins.¡±

    His eyes turned to the balcony. From his vantage point, he could see the crowd below. The courtyard never emptied. They all spent as much time as they could there, hoping to be blessed with a sighting of his divine presence.

    He snorted.

    But not even the thought of those worms could spoil his good mood.

    ¡°The thief has reached out to me. Me! It is as good as in my hands now! Prepare the festivities, Thomas!¡±

    ¡°Valins,¡± corrected the servant.

    At any other time, such insolence would have sent him into a rage. But he was so ecstatic he barely noticed the affront.

    He had heard the mask had been stolen, of course. How could he have not? The news had spread throughout the city, and he had spies everywhere.

    What he had not expected was to receive a message from the thief. The man¡ªa human, of course, he thought with displeasure¡ªwished to sell it to him.

    The prospect of a human, of all things, managing to steal that most fabled of items, baffled his mind. Granted, he had approached numerous other members of the species, intending to hire them for that very purpose, but he had never expected them to succeed. Their constant excuses for not taking the job had further convinced him they would be incapable of such a simple task. That one of them had now succeeded was beyond his comprehension.

    Still. He could not ignore such an opportunity.

    It would be a dream come true.

    He would give the human his price. He did not care.

    What would one such as he care about gold? Or jewels? He would give it all away for the mask and the absolute power it would give him over his people.

    And then...

    Oh, then they would see.

    Yes.

    Everything would change, then.

    No more rules.

    No more going easy on the humans.

    No more being careful about appearances.

    No more killing only humans you own.

    No.

    Once he had the mask, all of that would change.

    Forever.

    He grinned a wicked grin.

 Part III - Chapter 4

    Troubled but determined, she sat in the chair and tapped on the TriVid screen. She tried hard not to think about the broken window behind her.

    She knew the glass had been reinforced by the security firm that set up the alarm system. She knew she was safe now... in theory. She was supposed to be safe before, too.

    But she refused to be scared.

    She had been, on Exudia. She would not make that mistake again.

    Her mind turned to the display.

    There had to be something she could find... So she was researching everything about Lucaan Labs.

    What she found was not very interesting.

    It was a subcontractor for many larger businesses¡ªsuch as Aspen World, Moonrise Initiative, HoloGraph Inc., and Blue Siren Corporation.

    Her interest was piqued though when she discovered ties to the government. Those ties ran deep, and they were ancient. Lucaan had handled all the medical examinations in the earlier days of the colony, screening every settler as they arrived on the planet. A mandatory step to ensure all of them could handle the harsh conditions on Vuulthur.

    The connection grew from there, with the government directly providing half of Lucaan¡¯s budget. It also went in the other direction, as the company had regularly ¡®donated¡¯ large amounts of their profits to various charitable organisms that, in reality, served to finance electoral campaigns and governmental operations¡ªsuch as the construction of pipelines, or the maintenance of basic infrastructures.

    Susan frowned as she read through all the reports. The whole of it stank of greed and corruption.

    Could it be her father had uncovered some more nefarious dealings and had been threatened for it? Which could explain their sudden decision to leave.

    Yes, her mother had been sick, there was no denying it. But could they not have waited at least until the end of their contract with Lucaan? She could understand not wanting to wait through all thirty years of the settlement contract, but six more months? Would that have made a huge difference?

    Maybe. She wasn¡¯t a doctor, after all. But it was just as likely her parents had run for their lives after discovering something they should not have.

    Which could also explain why they were coming after her now. She must be getting close. Too close for comfort.

    Still.

    All she had were assumptions when what she needed were proofs.

    And she had none.

    If her father had found something, where would he have hidden the evidence?

    Most likely he¡¯d have taken it with him when he¡¯d left.

    But if it were still here, where would it be?

    She had already looked through all of the files on the TriVid system, but went through them again.

    ¡°Did my father delete anything before he left?¡± she asked out loud.

    ¡°Over two thousand files,¡± responded the house¡¯s AI.

    The amount startled her. But then, she realized, why would he have kept anything here if he was leaving for good?

    ¡°Can any of them be restored?¡±

    ¡°Not after such a long time,¡± apologized the voice. ¡°My system is purged every year, for performance reasons.¡±

    It figured.

    Susan sighed.

    There went that idea.

    But there still was one lead she hadn¡¯t looked into...

    ***

    Never in a million years would he have expected to one day return here, of all places. In this house where he had been held against his will. In this house where his health had declined, where he had nearly died... had it not been for Victor.

    The boy had given him his address, since Jack had offered to help. He could not have left him on his own. So he had sent him money and had even hired someone to do the cleaning¡ªsince a child so young could not be expected to handle any of that.

    Nor had he intended to go there. But as he walked aimlessly through the streets, with the two bags at his side¡ªwhich held the sum total of his possessions, including the most precious of them all¡ªhe had found himself standing in front of the damned house. His feet had taken him there without asking for his permission.

    The boy had been happy to see him and had said he could stay as long as he wished. And no, he would not tell anyone. Of course not!

    Jack had rested for an hour. Then he had jumped to his feet. What was he doing? There was no time to rest. Now least of all! Now that he had the mask, it was time for action. It was time to find someone who would buy it from him. Someone willing to meet his price.

    It would have to be one of the Zendaar, for only they could meet his price. That much he knew.

    And though the Zendaar were said to be everywhere, there was only one he had ever really heard of, or knew where to find.

    Lord Valerian was said to live in a fortress outside of Joqqal.

    So he had sent him a message and hoped for the best.

    A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    He was now pacing back and forth. The boy had given him his father¡¯s room, so it was large and comfortable. He could have rested in the bed... and maybe he should have, as he still felt the aches in his bones. And the cough was not getting any better¡ªin fact, he knew it was getting worse. But he also knew the exercise would help. It already had. Anything that could help delay the inevitable would give him a chance to survive.

    Victor came running into the room.

    ¡°Wassab! A message for you...¡±

    He handed Jack a letter, which the historian opened with apprehension. Could it be an answer so soon?

    But what he found was more startling.

    ¡°We are delighted to hear you have the mask and are willing to part with it, to the benefit of our people.

    ¡°However, we were less delighted to hear of the individual whom you have approached with this.

    ¡°Please be informed that the one you call Valerian is an outcast, a fool, and a disgrace to our kin.

    ¡°Most of all, he is not to be trusted.

    ¡°Whatever price you ask of him, I assure you he can not afford.

    ¡°I would recommend most strongly that you meet him before you make any decision and see for yourself.

    ¡°I am confident you will then understand our meaning.

    ¡°We are prepared to make you an offer.

    ¡°A most generous one.

    ¡°We are hoping to hear from you, at your earliest convenience.¡±

    Jack shot a glance at the boy.

    ¡°Did anyone follow you?¡±

    ¡°No, wassab!¡±

    ¡°Where did you find this?¡±

    ¡°It was given to me by the same one who took your message the other day.¡±

    Of course, he thought. If that one knows one Zendaar, it should be no surprise if he knows more of them. Well, perhaps this is for the best.

    But what was he to do, he wondered? The tone of the letter was intriguing enough. But was it truthful? He liked that it only advised him to test Valerian. What would it cost him to do so? Only a bit of time...

    He grimaced at the thought. He wasn¡¯t sure he could afford to waste any more of that precious time. But... if it ensured he didn¡¯t get screwed over¡ªwhich would be disastrous¡ªthen perhaps it would be well worth it.

    Yes. He would meet Valerian first, without the mask, just to gauge the man.

    Then, he would decide what to do.

    ***

    To find the mask, he would first need to track down the people who had had access to it when it was taken.

    So when he reached the city, he immediately headed for the cave.

    He recognized some of the guards, though he did not approach. There was too much of a crowd. The theft had drawn attention. The media were there, as were the police, and government officials.

    This was most inconvenient.

    It would delay him further, when he most needed speed.

    He considered his options.

    A glance at his wrist made him realize he did not even have a wristpad anymore¡ªthat most basic of necessities. He cursed.

    So first things first. Get one.

    They were easy enough to obtain.

    Money, at least, was not an issue. He could produce any amount with a simple blink of his eyes... That he could not have done with any of his dreamskins.

    There were many places where one could purchase a wristpad. Once he had done so, he proceeded to call the gatehouse at the cave¡ªtheir number was listed in the directory.

    He did not bother to talk when he heard ¡°Hello?¡± on the other end. He had blocked the visual feed, so the guard would be clueless as to who was on the line. While the man kept asking who was calling, he proceeded to hack the system.

    Those were skills he had learned in one of his previous human lives. It had come in handy before. It would again now.

    The guard gave up and hung up, but it did not matter. Now that the connection had been established, he could maintain it for his purposes.

    What he found, though, did not help him. Entry into the cave, at the time of the theft, had been made with Jack¡¯s credentials¡ªbut he knew for a fact that Jack hadn¡¯t been there.

    The historian was getting blamed all over the news. At first, the authorities had not thought much of it, since he had always said he wanted to remove it from the wall... to study it, supposedly. So when he had succeeded, it had not attracted attention. At least, not until the historian disappeared.

    That information gave him pause.

    He looked through the logs again. Jack had never listed the names of those who were with him, but he knew there had been two on that first visit, when the alarm had gone off. And there had been two there again when the actual theft had occurred.

    As he browsed through the security files, he noticed there were also video recordings. Of course! He should have thought of that earlier. He scanned through the timestamps and found the footage from the night of the theft.

    He stared a long time at the two faces, as if to commit them to memory. With a few taps on his new wristpad, he took screenshots, then hurried to Jack¡¯s hotel.

    Those were the same two men who had been with Jack on that first night. They must know each other. With some luck, they were staying at the same hotel.

    When he showed the pictures at the front desk, he was told that yes, both of these men were staying there. He was given names and told that Will was away, but Paul was in his room.

    He ran up and knocked.

    The man who opened the door was startled when he saw his face, eyes growing wide.

    ¡°Who are you?¡±

    ¡°I think you already know the answer to that question,¡± he said with a slight smile. ¡°A more pressing one is... do you still have the mask? And if not, who does?¡±

    He could feel the man¡¯s eyes staring at the scar above his brow.

    ¡°This can¡¯t be real...¡±

    ¡°Snap out of it! This is important.¡±

    Paul scowled. ¡°I am not saying a word until you explain yourself! How is this possible?¡±

    ¡°I am Xian, and I must get the mask back. Without it, this world may soon come to an end...¡±

    ***

    Though the city was hidden deep in the jungle, hundreds of miles away from civilization, it was not totally cut off.

    The people who lived there had access to technology humans did not even suspect existed. Devices that allowed them to speed up or slow down time; tiny sensors that could be injected into the body to constantly monitor health and identify problems; portable TriVid screen; and so many other things...

    One other example was the gateway which allowed them to move freely from one part of the world to another, within seconds. This had, in part, contributed to their reputation as gods, as it made them seem like they had the power of ubiquity.

    It was through the use of this device that Evken traveled to Joqqal.

    The gateway led into a manor, at the edge of town, which belonged to his people. It was used specifically as a transit point and was inhabited by erkins who shared some of their powers and secrets. No human, however, was ever allowed within these walls, as the powers-that-be did not deem them trustworthy enough for knowledge such as this.

    Upon his arrival, he was greeted with the respect due to one of his rank. A room was assigned for his usage and he was given a report about the latest developments.

    He would not have to do much searching, it seemed, as the thief had reached out to them¡ªor, rather, to Valkan, of all people.

    ¡°We have sent this Arnett a message to warn him about dealing with the accursed one, and to let him know we are prepared to discuss terms.¡±

    ¡°You did well,¡± said Evken. He could appreciate initiative. ¡°Let me know if you hear back from him.¡±

    As he settled into his lodging, he wondered what they would do if this human sold the mask to the madman. Valkan could not be allowed to keep such a precious item. It would give him too much power. Though it was likely he would not even know what to do with such power. Still, better safe than sorry.

    He decided to go out and explore the city.

    They had chosen him because he, among all of them, had had the most interactions with the humans. But it had been a long time, nonetheless, since he¡¯d last walked among them. The city had gone through many changes since.

    Because of their shorter lifespans, they were always in a hurry. They scurried around, constantly worried they wouldn¡¯t have enough time to complete their daily chores, not realizing they were, by their own doing, missing out on the meaning of life.

    Was he one to talk, though? Did he really know the meaning of life? How could he when he did not even understand where his people came from... And why were they stuck on this world? If they had come here from elsewhere, shouldn¡¯t they be able to leave?

    There had been numerous attempts, but all of them had failed with varying degrees of calamity. Some had just hit an invisible barrier and had been bumped back. Others had burned, or been disintegrated. You could never really know in advance what would happen.

    The only certainty was that the Zendaar could never leave this planet.

 Part III - Chapter 5

    His first instinct had been the right one. He should have guessed. Why had he let Jack talk him into it? That man, the one who shared the same face as the mask... how was that possible? It was so incredibly old. If Xian had ever truly existed, he should have died ages ago. And yet, there he had been, in his room, telling him this fantastical story...

    He stopped in front of the building. The one the boy had shown him. It had then been easy to locate the woman¡¯s apartment. Everyone here knew her. But she had not been home.

    Today, he would try again. And the day after that, and on and on, until she finally responded...

    His knock at the door was quickly answered.

    The mysterious woman he had met in the street looked even more outrageous now, as she wore nothing at all. All she wore was a bored expression as she looked at him. Then a twinkle shone in her eyes, followed by a slight smile.

    ¡°I remember you,¡± she said as she spun and returned inside, leaving the door open for him. ¡°Have you figured out what you are yet?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± he said, embarrassed. He stepped in and closed the door, making a point to keep his eyes away from the naked woman. ¡°I am your son.¡±

    She laughed. ¡°Don¡¯t be silly. I don¡¯t have any children.¡±

    ¡°Could you put some clothes on?¡± he mumbled.

    Standing on her balcony, she twirled the contents of a glass as she stared at the streets below.

    ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°Please...¡±

    ¡°Why?¡± she asked, distractedly.

    ¡°Because it troubles me.¡±

    ¡°That is not my problem.¡±

    ¡°We need to talk,¡± he insisted, ¡°and you¡¯re not making it any easier...¡±

    ¡°Are you telling me what to do?¡± she snapped, her eyes darting in his direction.

    ¡°No,¡± he said, his eyes still avoiding her. ¡°But could you do it anyway? For me?¡±

    She stared at him for a moment. Then shrugged and walked off into another room. ¡°So talk, then,¡± she said from afar.

    ¡°My name is Paul Zerrmond. I¡¯m an orphan and have been looking for my parents for a few years now. My quest led me to Alyssya, who told me how you asked her... to take me away... when I was born.¡±

    She returned with a long black dress and a frown on her face. ¡°What?¡±

    Paul was relieved he could now look at her at least without feeling like he was a voyeur.

    ¡°You are my mother,¡± he repeated.

    She stared at him. There was no mirth in her expression now. No concern, either, or even recognition.

    It was a bit disappointing, though he wasn¡¯t sure what it was exactly he had expected.

    ¡°You are Raduul, are you not?¡±

    She made a dismissive gesture as she picked up her glass from the counter where she had set it down, and walked back to her balcony. ¡°I am Thyria Raduul. Though you humans have this annoying tendency to call us by our last names. Would you call your friends by their last names?¡±

    ¡°Then you are my mother.¡±

    She sighed. ¡°I suppose I am. It would certainly explain things.¡±

    ¡°Like what?¡±

    She glanced at him. ¡°Well, don¡¯t just stand there! Come closer. I¡¯m not going to bite you.¡±

    After a moment of hesitation, Paul joined her on the balcony. ¡°What did you mean when you said it explained things?¡±

    Thyria shrugged. ¡°You are not like the other humans.¡± She motioned at the crowd in the streets. ¡°Those insects are dirty and weak and mindless. You, though... I sense a strength in you. A power that is not in them. You are different.¡±

    A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    He would not have put it in such words, but it did sum up much of what he had felt his entire life. The fact she could sense it so easily was a relief. It felt like a burden had suddenly been lifted from his shoulders.

    This was, after all, a form of recognition.

    ¡°I have often wondered why I was not like the others...¡±

    ¡°Is that why you sought me out?¡±

    ¡°That, and...¡±

    ¡°Yes?¡±

    ¡°I want to know about my father.¡±

    Her expression soured as she turned to look at the street again. She remained quiet for a while. ¡°You should leave.¡±

    ¡°But you haven¡¯t told me¡ª¡±

    ¡°I have nothing to tell you,¡± she cut him off. ¡°You are nothing to me. Never have been, never will be. Go. Now.¡±

    Though she did not shout, her voice was filled with simmering rage.

    The pain he felt then was deeper and stronger than any other he had experienced before. He had not expected her to lash out at him like this. Despite that his mother had rejected him once before, it had never crossed his mind she might do so once more.

    Her eyes held his gaze, and he could read anger and hatred in them. It tore him apart and he turned away.

    Without another word, he walked out and left.

    ***

    She had cried all night after she¡¯d heard the news.

    It had taken days to get an answer from the fortress. The sect did not like to communicate with the outside world.

    Her parents did not care.

    Nor had Jaob¡¯s, for that matter.

    At least not until they¡¯d heard the news.

    After that, they¡¯d pretended to care.

    But Cora knew their tears were fake.

    There was a reason why her fianc¨¦ had become a servant to that madman, Valerian.

    He had nothing else in his life.

    She sobbed even more at the thought.

    Because she realized she must not have meant much to him either. Not enough, at least, to keep him safe. To keep him wanting to live.

    He had preferred the fake sense of belonging the mad god provided, to the real comfort of her arms.

    What did that say about him?

    What did that say about her?

    His body had been delivered to her doorstep. Broken. Flailed. Covered with serpent bites. It had sent her into a raging frenzy until they¡¯d taken the corpse away.

    She had gone to the police, hoping to get some justice, but she was told nothing could be done. When Jaob had signed up with the cult, he had essentially given up all his rights. He had purposefully turned himself into an object, and had legally become the property of Lord Valerian. As such, his master was free to dispose of him as he pleased. This implied all sorts of atrocities¡ªincluding torture, and even murder.

    Cora did not know how to process all this information.

    Or how to grieve.

    And yet, it was not the first loss in her life.

    Her brother had died, a few years ago.

    In some ways, though, this was more difficult.

    Because they knew her brother was going to die. He had been sick long enough that they had prepared for it.

    And because, this time, she also felt guilty.

    Had she not been loving enough?

    Maybe, if she had shown her feelings more, he would have stayed with her, instead of running off to join a death cult?

    She wiped her eyes, blew her nose, took a deep breath... then started to cry again.

    ***

    On the southern tip of the continent, some six hundred miles from Joqqal, was a small mining town called Naleq. It sat at the base of a mountain range for thousands of years, a peaceful little haven away from the religious madness of the larger cities.

    Jim Carson was an ordinary guy living an ordinary life.

    Every morning, he woke up with the sun, ate breakfast, fed the animals, and set out to work at the mines¡ªlike most folks who lived in Naleq.

    It was a sound economy and the village prospered, selling copper to the various industries that required the material, then using the profits to buy what they themselves needed.

    When the work day was done, Jim headed into town with some friends to enjoy a drink or two at the local bar. Then he¡¯d pick up his kids from school and head back home. By then, his wife would be there as well and have almost finished preparing dinner.

    And though he had a good life, Jim¡ªlike many others who lived in Naleq¡ªdreamed of someday becoming somebody. Earning more money, buying better things for his family, moving into a bigger house... perhaps even into a bigger city, where opportunities would abound.

    But it was just that, a dream, and he knew it. He could never afford such a move. And he would never get a raise. Just like his father never had, and his father¡¯s father before that. Six generations of Carsons had lived in this part of the world... and though he dreamed of breaking the chain, he had accepted it would never happen, at least not in his lifetime. Perhaps one of his children...

    And then, every night, just like every other night, he would go to bed and fall asleep and dream his hopeless dreams of grandeur.

    But there came one morning when nothing went quite as it should have.

    The alarm sounded off ten minutes late. The eggs were too cooked. His supervisor at work was sick, and his replacement was a tyrannical jerk who forced them to stay twenty minutes beyond the end of their shift. And, of course, his favorite bar was closed because of a gas leak.

    And yet, none of that mattered that day.

    Because, as Jim walked back early to his home¡ªgrumbling about bad luck and how his life was so unfair¡ªthe ground beneath his feet began to shake.

    At first, he did not think much of it.

    There were, occasionally, earthquakes in this region. He was used to it, as was everyone who lived here. In fact, many folks walked down the streets at this hour, and no one thought twice about it.

    But as he went on his way, the shakes increased in intensity.

    To the point that he frowned and looked at the ground.

    Others started to pause and take notice.

    Cracks appeared in the earth. Small and thin, at first, but they quickly lengthened.

    The shaking intensified further, and the cracks opened.

    People began to scream.

    Panic spread faster than fire.

    People were running in every direction, trying to find shelter¡ªbut where could one shelter from something like this?

    Jim was too stunned to react.

    When he did, though, it was already too late.

    He ran toward his house.

    It was within his line of sight. As he ran, he saw the roof collapse, and the entire structure sink into the earth.

    His mouth opened to let out a scream, but it was muffled by his fall.

    He had stepped into one of the widening cracks.

    Everything went dark.

 Part III - Chapter 6

    He had met with resistance, at first. The man had not wanted to tell him anything. He could not afford to waste more time, so he¡¯d had to answer his questions...

    Xian could understand the confusion, but he had more pressing matters to take care of. If he had to answer all the questions the humans had, he¡¯d be at it for the next hundred years, if not more.

    So he had said what he could to appease Paul and make him understand the urgency of the matter.

    ¡°There are three others like me,¡± he had explained. ¡°They would have destroyed this world had I not imprisoned them. They have been sleeping for thousands of years. The mask was what maintained them bound. By removing it, the process was reversed. And they were awoken, as was I. Now they have broken free from their prison and, soon, they will start on their path of destruction again. I must lock them back in their cell. But I¡¯ll need the mask to achieve this.¡±

    Paul had listened with intent and some traces of incredulity. He could not blame him. It would be a difficult story to swallow for any human.

    ¡°Why would they want to destroy our world?¡±

    ¡°That is for a longer conversation,¡± Xian had said. ¡°Suffice to say they are fanatics, much like those on this world who adore the Zendaar. And because of their beliefs, they would destroy Qojja, and many other planets as well.¡±

    ¡°You can¡¯t just destroy a planet like that, though, that doesn¡¯t make sense...¡±

    ¡°Under normal circumstances, you would be correct. But these are not normal circumstances. There are ways they can achieve this. They already have, elsewhere.¡±

    It had taken some convincing, but Paul had finally relented. He¡¯d admitted to taking the mask himself.

    ¡°But I gave it to Jack.¡± His expression had hinted at regret and longing.

    ¡°How did you even manage to pull it off?¡± had asked Xian. ¡°That should not have been possible.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. It spoke to me.¡±

    Xian had frowned. That made little sense to him. But he could not waste more time. Not now. He¡¯d have to look into it later, after the runaways were recaptured and contained.

    ¡°Do you know where Arnett is? The news says he¡¯s disappeared.¡±

    ¡°He has. He didn¡¯t even leave a note.¡± Paul had sounded upset. ¡°I don¡¯t understand why he would do that. Even Will was caught by surprise. You¡¯d think Jack would have told him something, at least.¡±

    So Jack was gone. With the mask. And nobody knew where he was.

    Great.

    After that conversation, Xian returned to his ship.

    He ran scans now, trying to pick up on any activity that could give him a hint as to the device¡¯s location.

    As he searched, an alarm went off.

    He honed in on the report and the circular wall became a view of the mining town. With a few quick strokes on the floating panel before him, his ship darted out of the water and sped toward Naleq.

    The damage was already done, but he could at least stop it from spreading further.

    As soon as he landed, he crouched and set both his hands against the shaking earth. Closing his eyes, he poured healing energy into the soil. He felt the dirt and rocks spinning wildly in every direction. He appeased them, coaxed them into calmness.

    The quakes abated.

    He rose and stared at the half-sunken village.

    This was what he had feared...

    And it was only the beginning.

    ***

    The business was located in a mall. According to the map, it had a fairly large surface at its disposal. Which was to be expected for a workshop that trained in the arts of magic. It was supposed to be accessible to even children and the elderly. They even bragged about it in their name: Magic For All.

    The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

    The woman who received Susan was in her fifties and looked like she might be on drugs.

    ¡°Oh, I don¡¯t know,¡± she said with glazed eyes. ¡°I wasn¡¯t here at the time. I joined two years ago...¡±

    ¡°Is there someone else I could talk to, who might remember my mother?¡±

    The woman smiled airily. ¡°There is no one else. But that¡¯s alright.¡±

    ¡°No, actually,¡± said Susan, somewhat irritated, ¡°it¡¯s not alright. This is important.¡±

    ¡°Nothing is as important as peace, my dear, believe me. I¡¯ve been where you are¡ª¡±

    ¡°I doubt it.¡±

    ¡°¡ªand it¡¯s not worth it. The more you worry about something, the more it will eat you up.¡±

    She had not come here for a lecture, but for answers.

    ¡°Well, if you can¡¯t help¡ª¡±

    ¡°I did not say that,¡± giggled the woman.

    Susan frowned. ¡°I thought you said you weren¡¯t here at the time...¡±

    ¡°You forget where we are, silly thing! There are other ways I can help.¡±

    She did not particularly like being called a ¡®thing¡¯¡ªlet alone a silly one¡ªbut if this airhead could get her answers...

    ¡°Alright,¡± she said hesitantly. ¡°So what can you tell me?¡±

    ¡°A moment, please,¡± said the woman as she fluttered her eyes and looked around into empty space. ¡°Wilma, was it?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± said Susan uneasily. ¡°Caine.¡±

    The woman grasped at the air in quick, jerky gestures. There was nothing there, yet she held her fist closed tight each time, at least for a few seconds, before releasing her fingers and giggling.

    ¡°Oh, the silly little woman. Tsk.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s that now?¡±

    ¡°Your mother. She was quite the awkward one.¡±

    That was not the image Susan had of her mother¡ªquite the opposite. She had been strong-tempered, resolved, smart... What was with this crazy person? She started to wonder if she shouldn¡¯t just leave.

    ¡°Ah yes,¡± said the woman. ¡°I see the incident now. One of many. She was to make a globe of clay and draw Vuulthur¡¯s continents across the surface¡ªall without using her hands. Midway through, she lost control. The clay globe fell to the desk and paint splattered all over her. After this, she gave up. Tsk. As if she was the only one to fail an experiment. Tsk tsk. No patience at all. And very little confidence in herself.¡±

    ¡°Spare me the comments,¡± said Susan, who was losing patience herself. ¡°Could this incident explain my mother¡¯s curse?¡±

    ¡°Oh no, silly thing!¡± The woman giggled again, and Susan felt like if she heard that high-pitched laughter one more time she might try to choke it out of her. ¡°Nothing we do here could provoke a curse. Never! That would get us into way too much trouble. We only teach the basics. And that certainly was one of them. Very mild, if you ask me. Oh no, no curse at all!¡±

    Susan sighed. ¡°Alright. Thank you.¡±

    She didn¡¯t give the woman a chance to say anything more. She needed to get out of there. She couldn¡¯t stand that obnoxious lady one minute longer.

    As she walked out of the workshop and into the crowded mall, someone bumped into her.

    ¡°Sorry,¡± she heard a man call out without looking back.

    She cursed about what an awful world this was, with horrible people, and how much she just wanted to leave...

    Outside, it had started raining again.

    ***

    He had parked his glider across the street from the Moonrise headquarters and ordered the AI to obscure the windows so no one could see him inside.

    This wasn¡¯t his first stakeout, so he had brought everything he knew he¡¯d need¡ªfood, drinks, literature... He¡¯d indulged himself with an ancient printed copy of Hamlet. He couldn¡¯t get those names out of his head¡ªRosenkrantz and Gyldenstierne¡ªso it had felt appropriate. He still had trouble accepting such an incredible coincidence.

    Goodrich had called him back with more bad news. The Zendaar had no interest in meeting him. They did not even pretend to be too busy... why bother? They just didn¡¯t care.

    That was even more infuriating.

    How could such attitude be tolerated?

    He had visited the local police precinct and had been all but laughed out of the room. The Zendaar were untouchable. They ran the planet.

    Well, not directly, but he could tell they had their hands in everything and pulled many strings.

    That so many thought of them as gods did not help.

    He saw signs of this among many of the officers. It was obvious from the looks of blissful worship at the mere mention of the Zendaar¡ªor the angry frowns when Ward said anything slightly critical about them...

    Very infuriating indeed.

    He wasn¡¯t sure what he was expecting to accomplish. The Zendaar were supposed to look like everyone else¡ªhow convenient¡ªso how would he recognize one if they walked in or out of the building? As for the witnesses on his list, he had their pictures, but he doubted they would just happen to come by. It was more likely they¡¯d been sent on leave until things settled.

    Running their names at the precinct had not brought up anything useful. Access to those files was restricted. He¡¯d tried asking for a warrant and authorization to go seek those people out... All attempts had been turned down with a stern warning: when the Zendaar say no, it means no. End of story.

    Maybe he could follow Goodrich when he got off work.

    And then what?

    Was he hoping for some secret meeting with these mysterious creatures? If they controlled everything as completely as he suspected they did, they would have no reason to hide.

    And yet, were they not hiding from him?

    No, he realized, they were not. They just did not consider him significant enough to spend any amount of time in his presence.

    Arrogant bastards.

    That¡¯s what they were.

    He sipped from his drink, then grabbed his book.

    The AI would warn him if anyone came in or out of the building. It was also set up to film all comings and goings, so he wouldn¡¯t miss anything important.

    He was ten pages in when the voice rang out:

    ¡°Intruder alert!¡±

    What? Intruder? Where?

    He sat up and turned around.

    The back door was wide open and a dark figure swiftly struck him before he could say or do anything.

 Part III - Chapter 7

    He wasn¡¯t sure this was such a good idea... If he disappeared, nobody would know. Then again, he had already disappeared, hadn¡¯t he?

    Jack shifted anxiously in his seat as he waited for his host to arrive.

    He had insisted on meeting Valerian in a neutral place, but he had been informed that his Lordship never left his fortress. If he wanted to meet his Lordship, he would have to come to him.

    It was a bleak prospect.

    The structure was huge and felt more like a prison than a fortress. Its walls rose fifty feet in the air, gray and devoid of windows. Though once inside he had realized it surrounded a large courtyard, while the fortress proper sat at its center.

    Walking through that court had been an odd experience. There were people there, kneeling or seating or crouching... all of them kept lowering their heads to the ground, chanting or muttering prayers that only made sense to them.

    The other thing he noted was all of them looked in the direction of the fortress, no matter where they sat.

    A young girl, named Liss, had taken him inside.

    ¡°Our master will see you shortly,¡± she had said timidly. ¡°Please wait here.¡±

    He coughed as he looked around the room. It was comfortable enough, but he had been sitting here for thirty minutes now and was growing restless.

    Did the mask mean so little to this Valerian?

    The door swung open and he jumped to his feet as a tall thin man with pale skin and long red hair¡ªthat looked like it hadn¡¯t been washed in weeks¡ªstepped in with a haughty expression. There were red marks under his eyes and lips.

    ¡°You are Jack Arnett?¡± he asked.

    ¡°I am.¡±

    ¡°And I am your Lord Valerian,¡± he said as he looked Jack up and down with some disgust. ¡°You have the mask?¡±

    ¡°I do.¡±

    The expression on the creature¡¯s face turned to a mixture of glee and greed.

    ¡°Show it to me!¡±

    ¡°You misunderstood. I have it, as in it is in my possession, not as in it is on my person right now.¡±

    Valerian frowned. ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°I did not bring it,¡± Jack explained more simply.

    The Zendaar howled. ¡°Why are you wasting my time? Did you not want your money? I would have given you all the gold in the world, you fool!¡±

    Jack quirked a brow. ¡°That is not the price I ask.¡±

    ¡°What, then?¡± asked Valerian impatiently. ¡°I will give you whatever you wish.¡±

    ¡°I want to be like you.¡±

    Valerian blinked. Squinted. ¡°Like me? What is this? A riddle? I don¡¯t have time for riddles!¡±

    ¡°Immortality is the price,¡± Jack said softly as he scratched his neck.

    The would-be god stared at him, then laughed.

    ¡°You? Puny little thing? You want to be immortal? That is so arrogant!¡±

    ¡°Very well,¡± said Jack as he started toward the door.

    ¡°Wait!¡±

    He paused. ¡°Yes?¡±

    Valerian paced. ¡°Very well. If that is what you want in exchange for the mask, then that is what you will have. Now, give it to me!¡±

    ¡°You forget, I did not bring it.¡±

    Valerian went into a rage. ¡°Why do you waste my time?¡± he repeated as he threw a chair into the air. It crashed against the wall and broke into a thousand splinters.

    Liss, who had brought Jack into the room, appeared at the door with a worried expression.

    ¡°Is everything alright, your Lordship?¡±

    Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    ¡°No!¡± he yelled at her. ¡°Everything is NOT alright. Does it look like everything is alright? And where is Valins? Go fetch him, you twit!¡±

    The girl pressed her forehead to the floor.

    ¡°You disposed of him last night, your Lordship. His body still dangles on a pike at the entrance of the kitchen, to remind us all poor mortals of how merciful you are toward those who do not anger you.¡±

    ¡°Exactly right,¡± groaned the Zendaar as his gaze returned to the historian.

    Jack gulped between two coughs.

    ¡°I will consider your offer,¡± he said as he hurried through the door.

    Valerian screamed again as Jack rushed out, and he heard the sound of another chair breaking against the wall.

    ***

    Over the years, he had traveled from world to world, lending his powers to those most in need. They called him Zermond the Hermit, because he had no home and always journeyed alone.

    People had often asked him how he did the things he did. He never knew how to answer. He had never had a teacher; he had never attended a school or a workshop; he had never read books or studied magic in any other way. To him, it was more like an instinct.

    But attempting to explain any of that would invariably lead to blank stares, at best; or confused looks, at worse. How could you ¡°just know¡± how to do magic? It was a crazy notion for people.

    Truthfully, it sounded crazy to him too, when he stopped to think about it.

    Why was he the way he was?

    There had to be an explanation.

    Over the years, he had started to question what he had never questioned.

    Sure, he had wondered, as a child, where he came from and who his parents were. But it had been more a fantasy than an obsession.

    It was only when he tried to understand the source of his powers that it had become an obsession. Because if nothing else could explain his abilities, then surely his origins could.

    Paul signaled the bartender to serve him another shot.

    ¡°You¡¯ve already had five, wassab,¡± reminded him the android.

    ¡°And I¡¯ll have another five, thank you.¡±

    He hated when those things tried to sound smart. What did they think they were? Human? Ha!

    His eyes drifted to the giant TriVid screen that showed footage of the earthquake in Naleq. It was the first major natural disaster the planet had known in twenty years.

    He grabbed the glass as soon as it was filled and downed it in one swig. Slamming it back down on the counter, he stared at the bartender and pointed at the empty glass expectedly.

    Those answers were so close... He¡¯d finally tracked down his mother, but she had thrown him out like a rag! How was he ever going to understand anything now?

    The droid gave him a disapproving look¡ªannoying machine!¡ªbut served him nonetheless.

    He then asked himself if he didn¡¯t already have the answer? His Zendaar blood must be the reason. What else could it be? That had to be it! His father was likely another one of those awful, arrogant, would-be gods. He was probably better off not knowing him.

    He certainly wished he¡¯d never met her.

    The new shot was downed as quickly as the previous, and again he demanded another.

    And another after that.

    Then another.

    And it went on all night long...

    ***

    On the other side of the planet, on the continent of Renqara, there was a coastal town called Vasqulliq.

    It was morning there when the young Suranne arrived at the diner to begin her shift.

    She knew she would work long hours, as it was a holiday, and those were always the busiest days of the year.

    After greeting her co-workers, she put on her uniform and stepped out of the building to set up the tables on the terrace.

    The diner had been built on the shore and had a beautiful view over the sea, with its own private beach. It was a popular venue for both tourists and the local population.

    It was getting hot. Despite the early hour, the sun was already hitting the terrace at full force. She decided to open the parasols.

    As she did so, she noticed something unusual from the corner of her eye.

    Her hands froze midway and she frowned as her gaze turned toward the sea.

    The water was receding.

    She had never seen anything like it.

    Tourists were arriving on the beach. Some pointed at the water, laughing.

    Someone called out to her: ¡°Hey! This is pretty cool. Does it always do this here?¡±

    She did not respond.

    Her mind was trying to process the information.

    It felt significant.

    There was something in her¡ªlike the missing piece of a puzzle¡ª, something she had read a long long time ago but that she could not remember for the life of her. Something she felt could explain this.

    And suddenly, things clicked. It all came back to her.

    Her eyes grew wide, and a scream came out of her mouth.

    ¡°RUN!¡±

    No one paid her no mind.

    Those that heard her just cast weird looks in her direction, wondering why the crazy lady was yelling.

    But she did not wait to see their reactions.

    Forget the parasols. Forget the terrace. Forget the diner. Forget it all. She was running for dear life.

    She ran through the restaurant screaming, ¡°Get out of here! Run! Hurry! It¡¯s coming!¡±

    Her colleagues stared at her, wondering what had gotten into her.

    There was a sound, then. A distant rumble. It was unusual. Something none of them had ever heard. It became louder, too.

    Some realized it came from the sea.

    They went to look and saw a huge wave rushing toward the shore.

    Larger than any they had ever seen.

    So large it would, with certainty, crush the diner and everyone in it.

    Nor would it stop there.

    It would wage a path of destruction on its way, obliterating most of the city in its wake.

    Another sound came, then. Another strange one. Though this one came from the sky.

    The few who heard it over the thundering of the incoming tsunami lifted their heads but saw nothing there.

    As the wave hit the beach, it swiped off the screaming tourists, crashed into the diner¡ªdestroying it utterly, in one single strike, a structure that had taken years to build¡ªand rushed toward the busy streets of Vasqulliq.

    It was then that a man appeared, out of nowhere.

    A good-looking fellow, in his thirties, with a small nose, and a small scar above his right brow.

    He stood there in the midst of the raging winds and the wave¡¯s onslaught, unperturbed.

    He lifted a hand, closed his eyes, and...

    It was like a bubble had formed around him. At first, the winds would drape around it, but slowly they stopped passing through, as if the bubble had grown and erected a barrier.

    And then, strangely, inexplicably, the wave receded¡ªjust like the water had earlier.

    Except, this time, it did not mark the beginning of a disaster, but its ending.

 Part III - Chapter 8

    The glider sped through total darkness. The couple who sat inside looked worried as they argued about the crimes they had committed. Should they have stayed behind and done their time? They laughed at the thought.

    A shot rang through the night. The glass broke as the bullet pierced through and hit the man¡¯s skull, making it explode, splattering brain matter on his wife. She screamed, but only for a second as another bullet hit her between the eyes.

    The glider dove and spun and sunk into the pit...

    Susan woke up in a sweat.

    She breathed heavily, trying to calm herself.

    It was just a nightmare.

    That was all.

    There was nothing more to it.

    Just her imagination playing tricks on her.

    She got out of bed and went into the bathroom to throw water on her face.

    The coolness made her feel better.

    She would have gone back to bed, but the clock told her it was already seven.

    Then again, what was left for her to do?

    She hated to admit it, but she was close to giving up.

    All she had were suspicions without a single piece of evidence.

    None of that would do her any good.

    With a sigh, she took off her clothes and went into the shower.

    After washing the sweat off and tossing something fresh on her back, she sat in the kitchen with a bowl of cereals and had the AI turn on the news.

    Five minutes into the bulletin, as she was finishing her breakfast, they announced some breaking news.

    ¡°Early this morning, the body of Julian Jones, head manager of Lucaan Labs, was found drowned in his swimming pool. While it was first thought to be an accident, evidence was found pointing at a murder. We will keep you informed as further information becomes available.¡±

    Susan stared at the screen, spoon frozen in midair between the bowl and her mouth. She slowly set it back down and frowned.

    What did it mean?

    A murder?

    So soon after she¡¯d met him?

    And so soon after that attempt on her life?

    This could not be a coincidence.

    She spent the rest of the day pacing her living room, trying to remember every detail of her interaction with Jones, while keeping an eye on her TriVid screen.

    It must have something to do with the breach of contract. That was the only thing of significance she could think of.

    ¡°Turn up the volume!¡± she ordered the AI as a picture of Jones appeared on the screen.

    ¡°The police are now positive it was murder and an arrest should follow shortly. They are following a solid lead, as a woman¡¯s brooch was found in the victim¡¯s house. He was single, with no known girlfriend. It is a star-shaped brooch with multi-colored figures etched in the design.¡±

    Susan blanched.

    She checked her dress, then searched through her bag, but could not find it.

    That brooch... it was hers! It had been a gift from her mother. She would have recognized it anywhere.

    How did it arrive at the crime scene?

    She suddenly remembered the bump at the mall, after she¡¯d walked out of the workshop.

    That must have been the killer! He took her brooch and planted it in Jones¡¯ house.

    Now the police must be looking for her.

    They could be here any minute!

    Her heart beat faster as she grabbed some of her most precious things, tossed them into a bag, and rushed toward the door. She froze as she saw two police cars stopping in the front.

    She turned and ran toward the back, calling out: ¡°Open the back door but lock everything else. Do NOT let the police in, you hear me?¡±

    ¡°But it is the police, Susan¡ª¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s an order!¡±

    ¡°Very well.¡±

    ¡°And if they ask about me, you haven¡¯t seen me in a week!¡±

    ¡°I cannot lie, Susan.¡±

    She cursed. ¡°Then just remain silent.¡±

    Not waiting for an answer, she hurried out the back door and jumped over the fence.

    There was a bitter taste in her mouth as she remembered another time¡ªnot so long ago¡ªwhen she had been on the run.

    But she would not make the same mistakes.

    This time, she would stay in control.

    No matter what.

    ***

    All those incidents were draining his strength. He was exhausted. The ship could replenish him, but it was a slow process. He would not be able to keep up if these events continued at this rate.

    He needed help.

    But who could he ask?

    There was only one he could think of, but he did not like it.

    And where would he find her anyway?

    He had known her haunts, once upon a time. But did she still go to any of those locations? Only one way to find out...

    Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.

    It was an old place, built deep under the foundations of the Museum of Alien Technologies. It once had served as a Symposium. She liked it because her people would gather there, a long time ago, to discuss the future¡ªit reminded her of better times. Even after it was abandoned, still she returned. They had met here often.

    There were other locations, too, but he had decided to try this one first, because it had meant something¡ªto both of them.

    He stood there in the semi-darkness, contemplating the cracked walls, the broken furniture, and the dusty floor.

    ¡°It is not what it used to be,¡± he heard a mournful voice say from behind him.

    He turned. And there she was. As beautiful as she had always been. Wearing a silver dress that complimented her curves.

    ¡°I thought that was you, the other day...¡± she whispered as she stopped a few feet from him. ¡°You haven¡¯t changed one bit.¡±

    ¡°I need your help, Thyria¡ª¡±

    She reached out and placed a finger on his lips. ¡°Shhh.¡±

    The familiar touch sent a shiver down his spine.

    She moved closer, tilted her head, and brought her lips within inches of his own.

    He took a step back. ¡°No. There is no time for this!¡±

    She smiled a dangerous smile. ¡°You have not always said that.¡±

    ¡°This is different...¡±

    He turned and made a sweeping gesture, meant to encompass the world at large. ¡°This is a matter of survival. Not only for humans, but also for your people. For the world itself.¡±

    When he looked back at her, she had taken her dress off and stood naked before him.

    ¡°I¡¯ve heard that one before,¡± she said mockingly.

    ¡°Put something on,¡± he said with distaste.

    Her eyes shot daggers at him, but he didn¡¯t care. There was nothing she could do to him that he couldn¡¯t do to her tenfold. And she knew it.

    ¡°I despise you.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t waste my time, child. I haven¡¯t come here to play.¡±

    ¡°No one has dared call me ¡®child¡¯ in a thousand years!¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ll get over it.¡±

    In a rage, she grabbed her clothes, spun, and walked out.

    ¡°Thyria!¡± he called out.

    Only echoes answered him.

    Echoes of his voice and of her fading footsteps.

    ***

    He knew he was drunk but he didn¡¯t care. Why should he? There were more important things in life. Like butterflies. And the sea. And flowers. And... And...

    With a frown, he staggered through the streets, then paused and leaned against a nearby wall to keep himself steady.

    Ah, there was his hotel... It had taken him an hour to remember the way. He should have written it down. On his hand. At least he wouldn¡¯t have lost that. Maybe.

    He went past the front desk, ignoring the disapproving looks, entered the elevator, and sat on the ground as he waited to reach his floor. When he did, he crawled out and grabbed the wall to pull himself up. It got a chuckle out of him.

    Now, where was his room again? Ah yes, that door... or was it the next one? No problem. He¡¯d try both. Whichever his keycard opened would be the right one. Easy.

    It was neither.

    That, too, made him laugh.

    He wobbled his way further down the hall until he had an ¡®aha¡¯ moment, pointing a finger at another door. That had to be it. He recognized the number.

    The door opened.

    With a happy smile, he stepped in and turned on the light.

    He stood there staring at the woman lying on his bed.

    What was this?

    The clothes she wore were thin and see-through. It was very revealing. So much so that it troubled him. It was familiar, too. Why was it familiar?

    The shape moved.

    Oh hell no!

    The woman had propped herself on one shoulder and was rubbing her eyes, as if she had been crying¡ªor was she just sleepy?

    But what angered him was her face.

    It was her.

    The obnoxious, cruel, ungrateful woman who had brought him into this despicable world.

    ¡°What are you doing here?¡± he asked, his voice shaking.

    ¡°Resting,¡± she said as she eyed him curiously.

    ¡°I wish you¡¯d wear something less revealing, mother...¡±

    ¡°And I wish you¡¯d stop calling me mother. Seems like neither of us will get what they want.¡±

    He groaned. Tried to step toward her. Swayed. Changed his mind.

    ¡°How did you find me?¡±

    ¡°You think a goddess would not be able to track down a man who¡¯s given her his name?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re no goddess,¡± he said with a snort as he slowly shifted direction and headed toward the bar.

    ¡°No?¡±

    He glanced at her, still lying on his bed, with an impudent smile on her face.

    ¡°I can do magic tricks, too,¡± he remarked as he turned his gaze to an empty glass and started pouring whiskey. He was pretty sure he¡¯d need it to make it through this conversation. ¡°That doesn¡¯t make me a god.¡±

    She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her body against his back.

    ¡°Being my son does.¡±

    He jumped and jerked away from her grip, both shocked and surprised. Shocked because of the physical contact¡ªwhich was disturbing enough¡ª, and surprised because she had still been on the bed a second ago... It should have taken her longer to reach him.

    ¡°Don¡¯t!¡± he warned, waving the half-filled glass at her.

    She raised her hands in the air, as if to claim innocence, though he could read the mischief in her eyes.

    ¡°Easy, tiger. I¡¯m just displaying motherly affection. Isn¡¯t that what you want?¡±

    ¡°No!¡± he grunted. ¡°What I want are answers.¡±

    ¡°Then ask, and you shall receive.¡±

    ¡°I...¡±

    He frowned and stared into his glass. Downed it, then staggered back to the bar to fill it up again.

    ¡°You¡¯re drunk,¡± she remarked with disgust.

    ¡°As if you cared,¡± he said dryly.

    She stared at him, then laughed. ¡°You can¡¯t seriously be upset because of that?¡±

    He waved an accusing finger at her. ¡°You threw me out, you witch! You cruel woman! You rejected me. Again! And now, you¡ª¡± He had kept pouring with his other hand, and his glass had overflowed. ¡°Damn it!¡±

    She sighed and gently grabbed his shoulder.

    Again, he pulled away. The glass fell to the ground and shattered.

    ¡°You can¡¯t do this to me! First, you throw me like trash. Now you¡¯re here, like this, as if nothing had happened... What do you want from me?¡±

    ¡°I thought you were the one who wanted something from me?¡± she said sharply.

    He stared at her.

    ¡°Fine. Then tell me about my father. After that, you can go to hell for all I care.¡± She looked away. ¡°That¡¯s what I thought. You¡¯re just too much of a coward to¡ª¡±

    The slap came so quickly it took him by surprise.

    The strength of the blow was just as unexpected.

    He stumbled backward and hit the wall, then slid to the ground.

    Rubbing his reddened cheek, he sat there, glaring at her.

    She glared back.

    ¡°No one speaks to me like that,¡± she said. ¡°Not even you.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t care about me, so why should I care about you? I say things the way I see them. I will not treat you any differently.¡±

    She loomed above him menacingly. ¡°I warn you¡ª¡±

    ¡°What are you going to do? Kill me?¡± He laughed. ¡°Maybe that¡¯s my destiny, after all. Isn¡¯t that what you wanted, even back then? Alyssya told me, you know...¡±

    She held his gaze for a long time, remaining quiet. There was anger in those eyes, but also despair, and guilt.

    Finally, she sat on the floor next to him.

    ¡°You are much like him, you know.¡±

    ¡°Like who?¡±

    ¡°Your father.¡±

    He stared at her.

    ¡°It¡¯s true,¡± she continued. ¡°His name is Xian. And he was the love of my life... or so I thought.¡±

    ***

    There was a large library in the manor and he always enjoyed exploring its walls, hunting down books he had not read before. There were not many of those left, though.

    His life had been long enough now that he¡¯d gone through most of these¡ªnot to mention thousands more that could be found in the Great Library of Ahuaxa.

    But every time Evken came back to Joqqal, he would find himself drawn by the same large volume. A history of his people.

    It was a unique book, as no other author had ever dared to put into writing the events of those earlier years of the Zendaar. Those had been different times, when the rules had not yet been established. People did not fear them then the way they did now. In a sense, there was more freedom¡ªcertainly for the humans, but for his kin as well.

    Now their respective people had become entrenched in habits and bound by tradition.

    It was, he supposed, the price to pay for immortality. It left little space for change.

    And yet, he was convinced change could only do them good.

    He flipped through the pages and paused at the same spot that always made him pause.

    It recounted the words of an early settler. An ancestor of his who had died from some mysterious disease. He might well have been the last to have known how they had all come to Qojja. And that secret had died with him. Except for those last words he had uttered on his death bed.

    But to this date, they remained a mystery. No one understood them. Once, they must have meant something. But that meaning had long been forgotten.

    Some argued the sickness had affected the man¡¯s mind, it had made him speak gibberish.

    Evken did not think so.

    He sensed there was meaning in those words.

    If only he could understand them.

    They might well hold the key.

    On his dying bed, one such as himself, with an inquiring mind, had asked him how they could return from whence they¡¯d come.

    ¡°The way lies beyond,¡± he had whispered, ¡°for we came through the Gleaming.¡±

    He heard the sound of footsteps and looked up.

    One of the erkins bowed his head.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry to disturb you, Lord Evken. The human has met with Valkan. It did not go well.¡±

    Of course it hadn¡¯t. How could it have? That idiot was mad.

    ¡°I trust the human still has the mask, then?¡±

    ¡°He does.¡±

    ¡°Good. I expect we will hear from him soon. Keep me informed.¡±

    The other bowed his head again and left.

    This was good news. All hope was not yet lost. If they could get the mask, they could wake the gods. And if they could wake the gods, they could finally understand what this meant.

    Evken turned his attention back to the book.

    The Gleaming.

    Those two words had haunted him for the past two hundred years. Ever since he¡¯d first read this book.

    Their freedom was in those words.

    His freedom was in those words.

 Part III - Chapter 9

    New pains now plagued him. The sickness was spreading. He had expected it, but it did not make it any easier to accept.

    He had been coughing for five minutes straight when the bout finally relented. The pain had brought tears to his eyes, which he angrily wiped away.

    His wristpad blinked, announcing a new message. He had been ignoring most of them¡ªeven those from his friends. What would he have told them? That he was dying? That his only hope was to become an immortal, a Zendaar? He wasn¡¯t even sure it was possible.

    But the new message, he saw, was from his doctor.

    He opened it and read it.

    It only confirmed what the previous mail had said. It also implored him to go to the nearest hospital so he could be treated as soon as possible.

    And then what? It¡¯s not like they could save him. The doctor had been clear about that. All they could do was to make him more comfortable for the little time he had left. To ease the pain.

    That would have been nice, of course. But he was not ready to give up. Not while he still had some hope. And if that meant he¡¯d have to endure the pain, then so be it.

    He groaned as he felt a sharp jab in his side.

    Irritated, he reached for a paper and pen and jotted down a message to the Zendaar.

    There was no way he would make a deal with Valerian. Not when he¡¯d been offered another option. That man¡ªthough he wondered if the term was appropriate¡ªwas a menace to society. How could he be let loose? He hated to admit it though, but had there been no other alternative, he likely would have made a deal with that lunatic.

    He finished his letter. Reread it. Pondered.

    There had to be no doubt in their mind. They had to understand what it was exactly he was asking for in exchange for the mask. He did not want them to think, like Valerian had, that he was after money or gold or jewels... What good would any of those be to him if he was dead?

    He leaned down and scribbled a few more lines, to clarify his demands.

    Once he was satisfied, he added his signature, slid the note into an envelope, and sealed it.

    He¡¯d have Victor deliver it as soon as he returned from buying groceries.

    A sharp pain in his throat caught him by surprise and sent him into another five minute-coughing bout.

    ***

    When he woke up, the first thing he noticed was that his hands were tied behind his back. He was sitting, too.

    Opening his eyes, he noticed he was on a chair in an empty room. Not completely empty, though, as three other men were here with him. Two stood on each side of a door, while the third sat across from him, watching him with curiosity.

    ¡°Ah, our guest has awoken,¡± he said with a slight smile. ¡°Hello Brian, my name is Joe. You and I need to have a little chat.¡±

    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

    Ward would have liked to rub the back of his head¡ªit still hurt where they had knocked him¡ªbut the bonds made any movement impossible.

    ¡°How about you untie me first?¡± he suggested. ¡°I¡¯m itching to scratch myself...¡±

    ¡°Nice try,¡± chuckled Joe. ¡°But no can do.¡±

    ¡°Why am I here?¡±

    ¡°Oh, I think you know the answer to that. You¡¯ve been asking too many questions. That needs to stop.¡±

    ¡°Am I making some folks nervous? In my line of work, that¡¯s usually a good sign.¡±

    ¡°You are not on Exudia, detective. This world does not follow your antiquated laws.¡±

    ¡°Last time I checked, Qojja was still a part of the Weld...¡±

    Joe made a dismissive gesture. ¡°That¡¯s irrelevant. The empire never comes here. As long as they leave us alone, we leave them alone. It¡¯s a win-win.¡±

    Ward found the phrasing strange. Was this man really suggesting they were more powerful than the Weld? It was a ridiculous notion.

    ¡°Are you a Zendaar?¡± he asked.

    His captor laughed. He looked at the two standing guards.

    ¡°Did you hear that? He¡¯s asking if I¡¯m a Zendaar!¡±

    The two grinned as Joe looked back at the prisoner.

    ¡°You¡¯re a funny man. You really think they¡¯d take a second out of their precious time to deal with one such as you? Of course not. They have us for that.¡±

    ¡°Are you going to kill me, then? Like you killed Rosenkrantz?¡±

    ¡°Kill you? What for? You have no power here. You can not hurt the Zendaar.¡±

    ¡°And yet... here I am.¡±

    Joe stared at him quietly for a moment.

    ¡°What are you looking for, detective? What do you hope to achieve here?¡±

    ¡°I want answers. That¡¯s my job.¡±

    ¡°Answers? To what?¡±

    ¡°Rosenkrantz and Brown. Why did you kill them?¡±

    ¡°Is that all? Very well.¡±

    The man tapped on his wristpad, flicked through some data, then looked back at Ward.

    ¡°The journalist had uncovered some of our, let¡¯s say, shadier activities on Exudia. He hadn¡¯t connected the dots yet, but he would have eventually. We couldn¡¯t let his story come out. Brown, though, wasn¡¯t our doing. Apparently, it was an accident.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t believe it! The timing was too convenient for you...¡±

    Joe shrugged. ¡°It was convenient, I won¡¯t deny that, but we had nothing to do with it. Maybe he committed suicide.¡±

    That was the most preposterous thing he¡¯d ever heard. But why would he admit to one murder and not the other? Because Brown had been a cop? No, they didn¡¯t seem to care about such trivial details.

    ¡°Why are you telling me all this?¡± he asked.

    ¡°Because none of it matters anymore...¡±

    ¡°So you are going to kill me.¡±

    Joe sighed. ¡°What is this obsession you have with wanting us to kill you? We¡¯re not savages. As I said, you have no power here. No one on Qojja would believe you. And even if they did, no one would dare anything against the Zendaar.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll go to the Weld¡ª¡±

    ¡°With what evidence?¡±

    ¡°You just told me¡ª¡±

    ¡°Do you have a recording of my confession?¡±

    Ward pressed his lips.

    The man looked at the blinking red light on his wristpad, indicating an incoming message. He scanned through it then looked back up.

    ¡°Change of plans,¡± he said with a slight smile. ¡°I¡¯ll be right back.¡±

    Joe stepped out of the room, leaving the detective with the two guards. They kept staring at him with blank expressions.

    Ten minutes later, his captor returned with a woman in a white blouse. She held a syringe in her hand.

    ¡°What is this?¡± asked Ward with apprehension.

    Joe motioned for the two heavies to circle around the chair. Ward felt their hands grab his shoulders and hold him firmly as the woman approached. She lifted the sleeve of his left arm, and inserted the needle into his skin.

    He tried to pull away, but between the bonds and the two holding him, he found it impossible to resist.

    ¡°Are you drugging me?¡± he panicked.

    The woman pulled out the syringe and, without a word, left the room. The two heavies returned to their position at the door.

    ¡°You¡¯ll be happy to hear the Zendaar have granted you your wish.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± he asked, confused.

    ¡°You have now officially become their exclusive property.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± he repeated, his voice more high-pitched.

    ¡°You will be immediately transferred to your new permanent home in Ahuaxa.¡±

    ¡°You can¡¯t do this! I¡¯m a cop! There will be an investigation into my disappearance. The Weld will be all over you...¡±

    ¡°There will be a new bombing tomorrow. Again, it will be claimed by the Brothers of Thuyn. Among the victims, a disfigured body will be found. Analysis of its DNA will identify one Brian Ward.¡± Joe¡¯s grin widened. ¡°No one will come looking for you, detective.¡±

 Part III - Chapter 10

    When he stepped into the coffee house, the young woman looked up. Disappointment crept through her eyes when she saw him, and she turned her eyes back to her cup.

    She sat at their usual table. It had become an unspoken routine between them to meet here, always at the same time.

    Xian walked up to her and sat down, in the same chair he always sat in.

    Her eyes went back to him and blinked.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I¡¯m waiting for someone...¡±

    ¡°Hello, Cora,¡± he said softly.

    She frowned. ¡°Do I know you?¡±

    ¡°Under a different name, yes. When we first met,¡± he pointed at the counter behind them, ¡°we were sitting there. You told me how everyone on this world was filled with anger...¡±

    Cora stared at him. ¡°Ed?¡±

    He motioned to a waiter and ordered the same coffee he always ordered.

    ¡°How is it possible?¡± she asked as her hand reached out to his face, hovering over his scar without touching it. She pulled back and looked down, embarrassed. ¡°I don¡¯t understand.¡±

    ¡°What you met before was a dreamskin. This is the real me.¡±

    ¡°A dreamskin?¡±

    He nodded as the waiter brought his cup. Waited for him to step away before leaning closer to his friend.

    ¡°This body has been sleeping for thousands of years. So I¡¯ve been using constructs... Have you heard of dreamcatchers?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± she said, looking even more confused now than when the conversation had started.

    ¡°I guess I shouldn¡¯t be surprised. The technology never went far. It was something they experimented with on Earth, before the Erethian Empire began to spread through the stars. It allowed them to send someone into the dreams of other people. To help them cope with nightmares, for instance. Or, more simply, to study the nature of dreams...¡±

    ¡°Are you saying the past few days have all been a dream?¡±

    He smiled. ¡°Not at all. In fact, dreamskins are, in many ways, the opposite of that ancient technology. Whereas they would send a real person into a dream, I was sending a dream within the real world.¡±

    ¡°Ed wasn¡¯t a dream! He was tangible. He could hold things, drink that very coffee you¡¯re drinking right now...¡±

    ¡°I am simplifying things, to make it easier to understand. It¡¯s really much more complex than that. The gist of it though is that it was an entirely dreamt vessel that could interact with the world as if it were real. I gave it an identity, a history, a set of skills... It had limitations, but it allowed me to walk among humans while I slept.¡±

    He bit down on his lip, wondering if he wasn¡¯t giving out too much information. Not that he felt like he should hold anything back from Cora, but it was bound to lead to more questions, and there was only so much time he could afford to spend answering them.

    ¡°You¡¯re not human?¡±

    ¡°Well, no. My people are called the Rissl... We are worldbuilders. Most of us are, anyway.¡±

    ¡°Worldbuilders?¡±

    ¡°We make planets. Shape their continents. Regulate weather patterns. Generate life. Stuff like that.¡±

    ¡°Are you a god?¡±

    Xian almost choked on his drink.

    ¡°There are no such things as gods!¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t believe in anything?¡±

    ¡°Law is the religion of our people.¡±

    ¡°So you don¡¯t have gods?¡±

    ¡°Few of us do. Though there are those who believe in the One True God.¡±

    ¡°You say you¡¯ve slept thousands of years... How old are you?¡±

    He grimaced. ¡°After a few millennia, I stopped counting.¡±

    ¡°So... you have powers... you¡¯re immortal... how can you not be a god?¡±

    ¡°My ¡®powers¡¯ are the product of science, nothing more. And I have a longer lifespan, not immortality. That, too, is the product of science.¡±

    ¡°That feels like trying to split a grain of dust¡ª¡±

    ¡°Alright. Look at it this way, then. What is the ultimate function of a god?¡±

    ¡°To create life... Which you do.¡±

    ¡°But then, ask yourself: who created us? Are we supposed to have created ourselves? If not, then surely we cannot be gods. There would have to be someone above us. But then, who would have created him? Can¡¯t you see it¡¯s a neverending cycle? This is why I say there are no such things as gods. The concept itself is an inherent impossibility.¡±

    Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.

    She looked skeptical as she sipped quietly from her cup. Her eyes kept going back to his face.

    ¡°You look familiar,¡± she said.

    ¡°I¡¯ll be getting a lot of that, I expect,¡± he lamented. ¡°My face has been plastered on a wall for the past five thousand years. It was not supposed to be seen by anyone, but a group of archaeologists stumbled upon it...¡±

    Her eyes went wide as he spoke. ¡°The Face of Xian!¡±

    He nodded.

    ¡°So you are a god!¡±

    He sighed.

    This was going to be more difficult than expected.

    ***

    Her first thought had been to go to her uncle, but she quickly realized it would not have been safe¡ªfor either of them. She couldn¡¯t ask him to harbor a fugitive, plus he¡¯d be one of the first they¡¯d go to.

    So instead, she dove into the poorest part of the city.

    The planet she had always hated so much became even more of a nightmare for her, now that she was on foot. Thankfully, her house had not been too far from the outskirts of the city. She¡¯d had to hide in the bushes many times, though, to avoid detection, whenever the police drove by. She¡¯d stayed off the road, too, though always within sight as the vuulthuric wilderness was not exactly safe.

    There was no rain, but the winds were roaring around her, constantly blowing her long hair back into her face. It was difficult to walk, except those few times when it changed direction¡ªthen, it felt like she was sprouting wings and she had to be careful not to let herself get blown into the air and tossed like a leaf.

    But most of the time she had walked against the wind. It felt like forcing your way through an invisible wall of goo.

    The stink of sulfur did not help, of course, as it permeated into her clothes, her skin, her nostrils. She felt sick to her stomach.

    But she held strong and carried on.

    Once she reached the city limits, the buildings provided some limited sheltering from the winds, but she¡¯d only feel at ease once she¡¯d found a place to stay.

    There were many hotels in the heart of the city that asked no questions. They were cheap, rundown, with questionable cleanliness, but it wasn¡¯t like she had too many other options.

    It felt good just to be indoors, she reflected as she walked out of the billowing wind.

    Her breath was heavy, her hair disheveled, and her face red from the constant battering she¡¯d had to endure.

    She was asked to pay upfront, of course. She knew she could not use any form of traceable payment method, or she¡¯d get caught within the hour. She¡¯d withdrawn a large amount at the first credis she came across¡ªfiguring at some point they were likely to block her accounts¡ªand hurried away from the scene before the police showed up.

    After paying the required amount, she locked herself in the small, dank room and crashed on the bed. It felt wet and filthy, but she did not care. She was too tired to care.

    What was she going to do?

    How was she going to get herself out of this mess?

    The police couldn¡¯t help her this time... they were the ones looking for her!

    There was a growing knot in her stomach.

    A part of her mind was screaming, telling her she would get caught, that they would convict her for a crime she had not committed¡ªjust like they had convicted her parents...

    But the more rational part of her resisted the urge to panic. She would not give up. There had to be something she could do.

    Her eyes closed, and she finally fell into a troubled sleep.

    ***

    Who did that human worm think he was? How dare he make him wait like this?

    There was rage in his heart as Valerian paced back and forth.

    His latest servant, a lank and meek old man named Willard, remained quiet in a corner of the room.

    ¡°Why has he not returned yet?¡± finally yelled the would-be god.

    ¡°Perhaps,¡± ventured the servant, ¡°he is preparing himself to not offend your Lordship...¡±

    The Zendaar glared at him.

    ¡°Who are you? Where is Liss?¡±

    It was the second time that question had been asked of him in the past hour, so the human brought his head down, forehead pressed against the cold stone floor.

    ¡°I am Willard, oh Magnificent One. The wretched Liss displeased your Illuminous Self. In your infinite wisdom, you deemed her unfit to serve you. Her corpse now rots in the pits of your dungeons. Then, in your infinite wisdom, you allowed I, the humble Willard, to be blessed with your presence.¡±

    Valerian stared at the worm. Snorted. ¡°Indeed. Very well. Remember your place, and perhaps I shall allow your blessing to continue.¡±

    He started pacing again.

    ¡°Am I supposed to wait for this man? Who does he think I am? Does he not know I could rip him apart with my bare hands if I so chose? That mask should be mine! It is mine! None other than me deserves to possess it... Is this not true?¡± he asked, suddenly darting his glare in the servant¡¯s direction.

    Willard¡¯s head went down to the floor again. ¡°It is quite true, your magnificence. None other than you deserves to wield its power.¡±

    ¡°Exactly right.¡±

    Again, the Zendaar snorted and paced. He remained quiet for a long time as he reflected on this great injustice.

    ¡°Immortality!¡± he spat suddenly. ¡°As if anyone would give one such as he something so unique and beautiful. Who does he think he is? I would have slit his throat as soon as the mask was in my hands. Fool!¡±

    The servant would not say anything that could anger his master, so he failed to point out the human was, perhaps, not so foolish if he had not returned.

    ¡°Well! That mask shall be mine, whether this human likes it or not. I am done waiting!¡±

    He grinned as he sat on his throne.

    ¡°Liss!¡± The name died on his lips as he frowned. His gaze went to Willard. ¡°Ah, yes. She was punished, wasn¡¯t she? You, then! I would you bring me the swiftest of my servants. One with no shame, no compunction, and a great amount of stealth... Is this understood?¡±

    ¡°Very much so, your Lordship. I know just the one.¡±

    Valerian grinned.

    ¡°Perfect. Go, then. Fetch!¡±

    Willard turned and scurried out of the room.

    ***

    Ten miles west of Joqqal lies the forest of Alpan Hov. It is a quiet and exotic place, with ancient trees and plants that can be found nowhere else on the planet¡ªlet alone in the universe.

    Daily tours take any interested party within the dense foliage, to reveal its more unique sites...

    There is a grotto there, with quartz walls and a floor that looks like ice¡ªthough it is not. If one was to touch it, they would feel its warm, rugged surface under their fingers.

    Well beyond the grotto is a stream of molten emeralds... One might think the vivid green of its flow due to some strange pigmentation, or perhaps an optical illusion caused by the rays of the sun... But, in fact, the water there¡ªdespite not generating steam¡ªis so hot it boils. So hot it is capable of melting the emeralds that lie at its bottom.

    More toward the center of the forest is a grove of oddly shaped trees. As the winds blow through the peculiar pattern, they produce a soft whistling sound that legends say is really the voices of the gods, whispering between them about the future of this world.

    Some have tried to decipher the words in those whispers, claiming that doing so would unlock secrets and reveal all that is to come.

    Had someone managed to do this, perhaps they would have had some warning of the fire.

    It started as a flicker, a small thing at the northern edge of the forest. Though no one would ever know this. It was a mere spark that lit up a trunk, then quickly spread to the trees around it.

    The leaves went up in smoke. The wood shriveled and charred as it was consumed by the blazing flames.

    The fire raged on until it was so large it could have been seen from space.

    Many were trapped within the fiery inferno. Some in the grotto, on the bank of the stream, at the grove, or in any number of other key sites.

    The flames reached out to them, like so many greedy, hungry mouths.

    Though it happened in the middle of the afternoon, it felt like night as the smoke darkened the sky.

    Hundreds of screams rose from parched throats and panicked minds... but all were muffled by the loud crackle of the flames.

 Part III - Chapter 11

    It was the middle of the night, but he was too anxious to sleep.

    How long would it be before he heard back?

    His neck ached, so he turned to lie on his other side... but that did not help. Of course, it didn¡¯t.

    Jack coughed and glanced at his wristpad.

    The doctor had sent him another message warning that, without treatment, his organs would soon start to shut down, one after the other. It would be a painful and lethal process.

    The pain was already there, though.

    How much worse could it get?

    He decided to lie on his back, maybe that would help.

    Staring at the ceiling, he thought back to the day he had first heard of the Zendaar.

    Why did people call them gods, he had wondered?

    ¡°Because they are immortal, wassab,¡± had been the recurring response.

    This had puzzled him.

    How could anyone be immortal?

    The human body was not meant to live forever.

    ¡°Ah, but they are not human, wassab.¡±

    Not human? What were they, then?

    ¡°They are the Zendaar. They are gods.¡±

    It was a vicious circle, but one that took him down paths of hope.

    His sickness had only recently been diagnosed. There was no cure for it, he¡¯d been told, but he¡¯d have a few more years in front of him. He should take that time to do all the things he¡¯d always wanted to do, to see all the people who mattered to him, and to say his goodbyes¡ªto them, to the world.

    But he was not ready to say his goodbyes.

    He had refused to accept any of it and had continued to live his life as if nothing unusual had happened.

    After all, he wasn¡¯t feeling bad. There was just an occasional pain at the back of his neck. But it got worse in the months that followed.

    With a cough, he turned again to lie on his stomach.

    He had then thought back to those stories of immortality. Could there be some truth to them?

    As a historian, he had access to all the largest libraries¡ªboth physical and virtual. Though the only literature he found on the Zendaar was confined to Qojja. They were unknown in the rest of the Weld. He had found that odd.

    And the few texts he¡¯d found were quite sparse in details, as if the writers had been wary of saying too much.

    But it had been sufficient to convince him there had to be some truth behind the myth.

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    The most damning evidence had been the pictures.

    He had found some of the same faces in recent books as in documents dating back as far as two thousand years.

    A sharp thud made him pause in his thoughts.

    Had he imagined it?

    He pulled himself up and listened carefully.

    It was quiet. The only sound he could hear was the distant snore of the boy, who was deep asleep in the room across from his.

    As he was about to lie back down, he heard something again. It was different, now. More like footsteps. From someone trying to be quiet.

    As silently as possible, he pulled the sheets off of him and got out of bed. He did not turn the lights on¡ªhe would make do with the beams of the moon.

    Ear glued to the door, he waited. The sound was very clear now, and unmistakable. The steps moved away from him, down the hall, toward the office...

    The mask!

    His heart beat faster.

    He looked around the room for something he could use as a weapon. His eyes stopped on a metal bar near the window. It was the old curtain¡¯s railing that had been removed though not yet discarded. He grabbed it, then slowly opened the door and peered into the hall.

    The thief¡¯s silhouette was within sight for barely a second before it disappeared into the office.

    How did they find us? he wondered as he tiptoed down the hall and positioned himself against the wall. The thief would have to come back out through here, as the room had no other exit¡ªnot even windows¡ªand he would be ready for him.

    Victor must have been followed after dropping off that last message...

    There were shuffling sounds from within as the thief rummaged through the office, looking for the mask. It wouldn¡¯t take long as Jack hadn¡¯t bothered to hide it. He had not expected anyone to come for it like this¡ªlet alone to know where to find him... He would have to be more careful in the future.

    The sounds of searching stopped. There were a few seconds of silence, then the footsteps approached.

    He lifted the bar in the air, ready to strike.

    When the head popped out of the doorframe, he brought down his improvised weapon as hard as he could.

    The thief tried to dive out of the way but could not completely escape the blow. It missed his head but hit his shoulder instead. The man howled.

    The prowler dropped the bag he held so he could jump at Jack, trying to grab his throat and strangle him.

    Jack kicked at the other¡¯s stomach and managed to break free. He lifted the bar and hit the man on the back multiple times.

    The thief yelped, stood, and ran away just as Victor came out of his room, rubbing his sleepy eyes.

    The man went past him, and out the door that had been left ajar.

    Jack rushed to the bag and looked inside.

    He sighed with relief as he grabbed the mask and pulled it out.

    ***

    People marched in the streets, requesting all foreigners be thrown off the planet. The gods were angry. They would not stop raining destruction upon them until the impious were banished. Too long had they tolerated their blasphemous presence.

    Evken watched from the window of his room, on the second floor of the Zendaar¡¯s manor in Joqqal. His expression was one of distaste.

    As if his people could have done anything like this! They were not gods, of course. He knew that, as did all his kin. But too many of them profited from the credulity of humans. It served them to be perceived in this fashion. But they could not control the elements... Only the Suryi could.

    Still, all these recent events were troubling. Qojja had never known so many disasters in such a short time.

    With a sigh, he returned to his desk and reread the historian¡¯s message.

    The price the man asked for had caught him by surprise.

    He wanted immortality.

    Arnett had no idea what he was wishing for.

    Let alone the cost that came attached with it.

    It was not so simple.

    He had not yet responded, because, truthfully, how was he supposed to answer?

    Under any normal circumstances, it would have been a flat ¡°no.¡± There was no way they would have turned some random person just because they demanded it.

    But this, of course, was not a normal circumstance. If this man refused any other form of payment, then Evken would not get the mask. And most likely Arnett would find some other Zendaar willing to give him what he was asking for¡ªperhaps, even, he¡¯d go back to Valkan.

    That thought made him wince.

    No, he could not let the mask fall into anyone else¡¯s hands. It was too precious an item. And the only way they could wake the Suryi. Perhaps that was why those disasters were occurring? Maybe it was a message to him, letting him know he should pay whatever price was necessary, because only the Suryi could stop the elements, and appease the world¡¯s pains.

    ¡°Very well, then,¡± he said to himself. ¡°We shall set up a meeting and take things from there.¡±

    He brought out paper and pen, and began to write his response.

 Part III - Chapter 12

    One thing he knew for sure... this was only just the beginning.

    These disasters would not stop. Not until the runaways were recaptured and put back to sleep.

    He would need the mask to do this, but he still had no clue where to find it. Jack Arnett was staying under the radar.

    What was the man planning to do with it?

    He had not tried to use it¡ªthat would have set off an alarm¡ªbut if that was not his intention, then what?

    Was he working with someone?

    Who else could want the mask?

    It would be of little use to anyone who wasn¡¯t a Rissl.

    Still, many myths had sprung after the artifact was discovered. And though all of them were nonsense, many were those who believed in them. Any of these beliefs could have prompted the theft.

    He still did not understand how Paul had managed to pull the mask off... it should not have responded to him¡ªor to anyone.

    Sitting in the circular room of his ship, Xian scanned through hundreds of dataflows. Most of them were displaying geographical and topographical information, following seismic activity or weather patterns. He was on the lookout for any warning of the next impending disaster.

    The fire, he had barely caught in time. It had made a lot of damage, costing many lives, but he¡¯d been able to put out the flames before it burned the entire forest down. It was getting harder to intervene in time, though.

    He needed help.

    But who could he ask?

    He had tried with Thyria... much good that had done him.

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    She would have done anything for him, once upon a time.

    He had changed her. Made her a better person.

    But she had obviously gone back to her old ways.

    It was a disappointment. A failure.

    Would he fail with Cora, too?

    She was different, though.

    She was human.

    How could she possibly help?

    To be fair, he wasn¡¯t sure even Thyria could have helped.

    The only reason he had caught the renegades last time, was because of the mask. And he no longer had that.

    There were three of them and only one of him.

    And his only possible ally was a human.

    In some ways, that would be better than a Zendaar, though... The humans had no powers, but his kin could not hurt them¡ªnot directly, at least. That was something.

    There had to be some way Cora could help.

    And if she could, then perhaps other humans could as well?

    But how?

    That fundamental question kept nagging at him, over and over, as he continued to scan through the dataflow.

    ***

    She still mourned her fianc¨¦. It was difficult to think that he was gone, that she¡¯d never see him again. He had been a sweet man. The only ray of sunshine in her miserable life...

    Until she¡¯d met Ed¡ªXian, rather.

    Cora wasn¡¯t sure what to think about that.

    It was difficult to process so much information.

    She looked through the window at her parents. They sat in the living room, as apathetic as ever.

    After a moment of hesitation, she turned and walked away. Why would she go in there? It was not like they ever had anything interesting to tell her. Nor did they ever show any interest in her. Not that she¡¯d have had much to tell them.

    She kicked a rock that was in her way, a bit more angrily than intended. It flew against a nearby wall, barely missing hitting a young boy¡¯s leg as he ran by.

    With a grimace, she pushed her hands deeper into her pockets and quickened her pace.

    Could Ed be right? Were there no gods?

    Was it all just an illusion?

    All her life she had been raised to believe deities walked among men. That the Zendaar were untouchable¡ªwhich they were. But maybe it had more to do with fear, or even corruption, than godhood.

    Why did everyone think they were gods?

    Well, they did have long lives...

    But so did Xian, and he said in his case it was due to science. But what about them? Was it science, too? Or something else? Like what?

    Magic, maybe...

    After all, if science could lengthen a person¡¯s life, shouldn¡¯t a spell be able to as well?

    It made sense to her.

    But...

    If the Zendaar were not gods, what were they?

    She frowned as her pace quickened further.

    Resolve grew in her heart.

    Her life had been so unfair.

    But now, Ed had shaken something deep inside of her.

    She was starting to see things differently.

    A thought formed in her mind, then... a seed that sprouted and grew.

 Part III - Chapter 13

    He woke up feeling queasy and with a massive throb in his head. As he pulled the sheets off him to get out of bed, he froze.

    Why was he naked?

    His heart beat faster as he turned to look at the bed...

    It was empty.

    Where was she? What had she done to him?

    Paul then realized there was a sound coming from the bathroom... the sound of someone taking a shower.

    The water was shut off and, shortly after, the door opened.

    Thyria walked out, just as naked as he was, with a towel in her hand that she used to rub herself dry.

    ¡°Ah,¡± she said with a smile. ¡°I thought I¡¯d heard you get up. How are you feeling?¡±

    He turned away, baffled and furious. ¡°What... Where are my clothes?¡± he asked in a panic.

    She laughed. ¡°At your feet, silly. But I¡¯d recommend getting some spares on. You retched all over those. Had to take them off so you wouldn¡¯t mess up the sheets.¡±

    So that was what happened.

    It made him feel a little better. Though only slightly.

    ¡°You slept here?¡± he asked, distressed at the thought of the two of them sharing a bed... in such a shocking state of undress. ¡°And could you... put something on, please?¡±

    ¡°That again? Oh fine.¡± There was the ruffling sound of her dress being put on. ¡°And yes, I¡¯ve slept here. I didn¡¯t want to leave you alone, considering the state you were in. That wouldn¡¯t have been very motherly of me, would it now? You¡¯re welcome. And you can look now, you baby.¡±

    He peeked at her. It was the same see-through dress she had worn the previous night... not that much of an improvement, he realized.

    ¡°What did you do to me?¡±

    She rolled her eyes. ¡°Oh please, don¡¯t get overdramatic with me. The only thing that happened to you, you did to yourself. You should stop drinking. It doesn¡¯t become you. Anyway, I need to go. Lovely catching up.¡±

    Leaning down, she grabbed her shoes, then walked away barefoot.

    He waited until he¡¯d heard the door close behind her, before he jumped into the shower himself. He felt dirty.

    As the water washed the stink of alcohol off him, he recalled some of the previous night¡¯s events.

    The most shocking of all had been the revelation of his father¡¯s identity.

    He had met his father... he had talked with his father without even knowing it was him.

    Xian!

    It was the last piece of the puzzle.

    His life suddenly made sense to him.

    He also understood now how he had been able to take the mask¡ªand why it had spoken to him.

    But then he remembered what Thyria had told him.

    All the bad things about his father.

    ¡°He is an evil man,¡± she had warned. ¡°That is why I do not like to speak of him. That is why I did not wish to tell you about him. That is why I was so angry the other day. I was not rejecting you, I was rejecting him. You remind me too much of him.¡±

    ¡°Why do you say that he is evil? I have met him. He seemed to care about what happens to this world...¡±

    She had seemed upset with this. ¡°You must be careful around him. Avoid him if you can. He will corrupt you, just like he corrupted me... once.¡±

    ¡°But why?¡± he had insisted.

    ¡°He manipulates people,¡± she had said impatiently, ¡°to make them do what he wants. That is all he does. All he knows how to do. It gives him pleasure. He may seem nice and gentle, but it is only a cover for his deceit. What he truly enjoys is seeing people suffer. He couldn¡¯t care less about Qojja, or about us. He¡¯d rather see us all dead and this world in flames than to let us enjoy even a glimmer of joy.¡±

    The speech had shaken him, but he still wasn¡¯t sure what to think of it.

    Could Xian have lied to him?

    Could he have been manipulating him?

    Xian had asked him about the mask... and then had explained its function and why he needed it... but was any of it true? How could he be sure?

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    He would have to be wary, in the future, if he met Xian again...

    And he knew he would.

    How could he not?

    He was, after all, his father.

    ***

    Wristpads are very personal devices. As such, they are untraceable. In theory. There are always ways, of course, to circumvent that. But it would have been difficult and, for the most part, illegal. Even the police did not dare track people this way. It would have been both too expensive and too time-consuming.

    So Susan had used hers to browse through the holo directory. She¡¯d had an idea, and this was the first step of her plan.

    It was a long shot, she knew, but her options were limited.

    The most pressing matter was to prove her innocence, to get the cops off her back.

    She wouldn¡¯t be able to do anything¡ªespecially on this dreadful planet¡ªwith the constant threat of getting caught and convicted for a crime she hadn¡¯t committed.

    Since she no longer had her glider, she¡¯d had to use public transportation to move around. It was risky, but better than walking in the howling winds.

    It had been a short trip to the apartment building where Julian Jones had once lived.

    She knew it would have been searched by the authorities already, but they wouldn¡¯t have known what to look for like she did. This gave her an edge.

    Didn¡¯t mean though there was anything to find.

    Or they hadn¡¯t found it if there was.

    Or she would if they hadn¡¯t.

    She grimaced as she walked into the building.

    She acted as if she belonged, though kept her eyes low in case cameras were filming the lobby.

    The elevator took her to the proper floor. There she hurried to the deceased¡¯s door and knelt in front of the lock.

    She was no hacker... but one advantage of living in a shady hotel was that it gave you access to shady individuals, including some who knew how to hack¡ªor knew someone who did. It had not been too difficult to get a fake pass.

    The keycard was slightly smaller than the real ones, but it did the job. The light on the lock turned green and a distinctive click was heard as the door slid open.

    She stepped into the dark room and waited for the door to close.

    The hacker had assured her his key would also lock out the AI, so she¡¯d be able to do what she needed without interference.

    She went through every room and searched through every drawer. She also looked in the pockets of all the victim¡¯s suits and pants.

    Then she sat at his desk and turned on his TriVid terminal.

    She browsed through the dead man¡¯s files.

    But there was nothing there.

    Why had the man been killed?

    There had to be a reason!

    Or was it just to get her into trouble?

    She found a link in the man¡¯s files that opened the Lucaan Labs administrative panel.

    With a few quick taps, she ran through the files, maybe there was something there...

    She brought up her parents¡¯ records.

    Everything he had told her was right there. Including the breach of contract and the convictions and...

    She frowned.

    What was that?

    She scrolled back up and zoomed in on a detail.

    Why had she forgotten this?

    Jones had mentioned it.

    Her father had left with alien technology in him.

    She noticed a comment had been added to the file, some five years ago¡ªshortly after her parents had died.

    With a trembling finger, she opened it.

    And stared at the screen.

    The alien technology had been returned.

    There was also a name.

    The name of the person who had brought it back.

    And it was a name she knew.

    ***

    The news had angered him so much that he¡¯d swung his blade at the man and chopped his head off in a single blow. That incapable fool had failed at his mission. He blamed it all on Willard... he had chosen this scum, hadn¡¯t he? Where was he, anyway?

    His scream had rung through the halls of the fortress. In the courtyard beyond, his followers had shuddered in delight. They were so blessed to hear his voice.

    The new servant was a tall, dark-haired and skinny young woman who constantly kept her forehead pressed against the floor... not once had Valerian seen her face. Perhaps she was frightened his beauty would blind her.

    ¡°Why oh why am I surrounded by such miserable worms? Is it so hard to get a mask from a human, of all people?¡±

    ¡°If I may, your Lordship,¡± ventured the woman, with her head still held down.

    His eyes darted to her. ¡°You dare speak in my presence?¡±

    ¡°I can get the mask for you.¡±

    ¡°What did you say?¡±

    ¡°If you would allow this lowly person to serve your magnificence, I would get it for you.¡±

    ¡°You would, would you?¡± he asked, squinting at her. ¡°How?¡±

    She pressed her head down further¡ªas if she were trying to become one with the floor.

    ¡°I know someone very good at such things,¡± she whispered, her voice trembling. ¡°All I would need is the address.¡±

    It was good that she feared him, for was that not his due after all?

    ¡°Very well,¡± said Valerian. ¡°You may try. But do not fail me or you shall not last long in my service!¡±

    His mood improved somewhat after the exchange.

    There may yet be hope, he mused. Of course, there was. There always would be, as long as he lived. He would always find a way. The mask would not escape him long. He would keep trying.

    If the girl failed, he would find another way.

    He had all the time in the world, after all.

    After he gave her the address, the servant helped him with his dinner. She then waited quietly in a dark corner, head pressed against the cold stone floor.

    When he finished feeding, he wiped the fresh blood off his lips and stepped back into the main hall.

    He sat on his throne and looked around with a frown.

    ¡°Where is Willard?¡± hollered the maniac.

    ¡°Dead,¡± she said with a trembling voice. ¡°You had him cut open and his guts fed to the dogs.¡±

    ¡°Ah yes,¡± smiled Valerian. ¡°I did, did I not? The miserable fool kept telling me what I should and shouldn¡¯t do. Let that be a lesson to you, slave!¡±

    The young servant did not say a thing, though she kept her forehead pressed against the ground.

    As he rubbed his full belly with satisfaction, the woman crawled on the floor. She had a rag in her hand that she used to swipe everywhere she went.

    She made her way around the throne as Valerian closed his eyes and smiled. He was in a good mood.

    Once out of his sight, the servant stood.

    She brought out a dagger she had hidden in her sleeve.

    Then, from behind, she brought her hand around to the front and, in one quick motion, slit the Zendaar¡¯s throat.

    Valerian¡¯s eyes shot open as he gurgled and stood, stumbling and mumbling.

    ¡°Wha... at... arrgh...¡±

    He wobbled and fell to the ground, blood flowing out of his wound.

    The woman stepped into the light and looked down at the dying Valerian.

    ¡°My name is Cora,¡± she told him coldly. ¡°And this is justice, for all those you¡¯ve killed. Starting with Jaob. But I¡¯m sure you don¡¯t even remember him.¡±

    Valerian¡¯s eyes blinked at her, filled with surprise and incomprehension.

    She leaned and grabbed the sword that hung at his belt.

    Then, she swung it down at the monster¡¯s neck, cutting off his head.

    Grabbing the filthy red strands that made up Valerian¡¯s hair, she walked to the balcony and threw the head down into the courtyard, to his adoring worshipers.

    As screams rang from below, she turned and walked away.

    Ed had been right.

    Valerian was no god.

 Part III - Chapter 14

    It felt weird wearing a wristpad on this body. Though he¡¯d had many in his other lives¡ªor, rather, in his dreamskins¡¯ lives.

    Cora had insisted he get one. How else would they communicate? What with everything going on, she was worried they¡¯d lose contact.

    He was happy now to have relented as he stared at the message she had sent him.

    It was just two lines. One was an address, the other simply read: ¡°This is where Jack is hiding.¡±

    Perhaps she could help him after all.

    Though how she had gotten that information, he had no idea.

    Xian laughed as he hurried down the streets of Joqqal, looking for the house.

    There were people everywhere, most of them looking either scared or upset. Some might argue they always were one of those, but never to this degree.

    The disasters were taking their toll. Not only were the events themselves frightening enough, but the extremists used it as an excuse, claiming the gods were angry, that they were demanding immediate action.

    It was important to stop the renegades quickly, not only to stop them from destroying the planet, but also to stop this madness from spreading. It could do as much damage to the psyche of the people as the disasters could to nature.

    When he finally found the house, in the heart of the poorest neighborhood, the door was open.

    He stepped in and searched through every room.

    But it was empty.

    If Jack had been here, he no longer was.

    He would keep an eye on this place, though, in case he returned.

    As he stepped out, he heard an explosion.

    It came from across town.

    He ran to the site.

    Another hotel was in flames, windows shattered, walls cracked.

    A mob chanted in front of the building, insulting the foreigners who were still on Qojja, threatening them with bloody murder if they did not leave immediately.

    The gods were angry and they would not stop until all offworlders were gone.

    Later in the night, as he watched the news, he heard one of the victims had been identified as a detective from Exudia.

    His heart sank as Brian Ward¡¯s name was displayed on the TriVid screen along with a picture of his former partner.

    ***

    There were many temples in Joqqal. How could it have been otherwise, when there were so many gods and with so many fanatics to praise their names and powers?

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    Most of the Zendaar found this to be either amusing or profitable. But all agreed it was convenient. Or, rather, it was the accepted law, even if not everyone necessarily approved. But going against this¡ªby, for instance, denying one¡¯s supposed godhood to one¡¯s followers¡ªcould potentially damage the Zendaar¡¯s prestige and influence over the human population. Thus, such behavior would have been not only frowned upon, but strongly denounced and likely punished.

    Leaning on his cane, Evken stared at the temple across the street. It was not a large structure¡ªthere were much bigger ones in the neighborhood¡ªbut it was a popular one.

    The cult of Norkh was widespread and some came from quite far to praise his name and bask in his holy presence¡ªspiritual, if not physical. Though it was rumored their patron god would, occasionally, come here to speak to the faithful.

    Today was such a day.

    With a heavy sigh, Evken stepped in.

    When those inside saw him, there was immediate praise and awe. All knelt and bowed before him.

    It had been over a century since he¡¯d last come here.

    He was among the rare of his people who did not think much of this whole ¡°we-are-gods¡± approach but reluctantly went with it, because what else could he do?

    In truth, he would have been perfectly happy avoiding the temple another few centuries... or even not returning at all. But if these people believed in him, adored him, praised him, then he felt a certain amount of responsibility toward them.

    The world was spinning out of control. With all of the recent events, tensions were flaring. There had even been another bombing. Not from his followers, thankfully, but he feared they might also become violent at some point. Maybe he could avoid this from happening.

    If the Zendaar wanted to be gods, then he felt like they all should be more solemn about it and demand their priests and priestesses condemn violence and be more tolerant of foreigners.

    As if foreigners had ever been a problem!

    He sometimes did not understand his own kin. How could they not speak up against what was going on? Chaos was not good for them. It did not serve them in any way. If anything, it made their lives more difficult.

    They had the power to control this behavior, and yet none of them seemed to care enough to do anything about it.

    Well, he would do his part, at least.

    By the time he¡¯d reached the stage in the main hall, a crowd had gathered to listen to what he¡¯d have to say.

    And so, with a heavy heart, he spoke.

    ***

    From his vantage point, Xhoras looked upon the world.

    And what he saw made him boil.

    It was an abomination in the eyes of the One True God.

    This planet, like so many others, would have to be cleansed.

    They had tried once before and failed because of that traitor, Xian. He had caught them by surprise. But he would not again. Nor would he have the mask, this time.

    Xian had foiled their previous attacks, but they had been warming up, testing him.

    He was just one Rissl, while there were three of them.

    It would be easy to achieve their goals.

    There was much work ahead of them.

    It would take time.

    But they were in no hurry.

    Had they not slept for millennia?

    What did a few days, or weeks mean to them?

    They would take their time.

    To do things right.

    He walked up to the top of the hill, hating every second of it. How could his people have been so presumptuous as to think themselves worthy of creating worlds? Would they be gods, then?

    They would erase these abominations from existence.

    Even if it took a hundred thousand years.

    The One True Good would bless them for it.

    It was their divine mission.

    Once he¡¯d reached the top of the hill, he crouched and pressed the palm of his right hand against the moist grass.

    At the same, in other parts of the world, Verlhynn and Udrak made the same gesture. They were in constant contact, coordinating their actions to the second.

    Closing his eyes, Xhoras sent the energy flow through his arm and into the earth. It grew until it spread through the entire valley below. The ground began to shake. Though his eyes remained closed, he could see the trees tremble, the stones crack... A nearby village would soon experience its first earthquake in a quarter of a century.

    His two companions were proceeding likewise, initiating simultaneous cataclysms in two other locations, millions of miles away.

    Xhoras smiled.

    ¡°Now try to stop this, Xian.¡±

 Part III - Chapter 15

    They¡¯d had to move out of the house. With their location compromised, it would not have made sense to stay. If they¡¯d attempted to steal the mask once, they could try again.

    The big question was... who had tried it?

    It had to be the Zendaar, of course... but had it been Valerian, or these others who had messaged him?

    The former seemed the most likely suspect. He had been in a rage, after all, had he not? While the others were still negotiating with him, and so would have no motive to try something like this.

    He¡¯d even received a confirmation letter from them. They wanted to meet.

    Jack wondered if he should go without the mask, as he had with the madman. It would be safer, of course, but it would also drag the whole process longer, and he wasn¡¯t sure how much more time he could afford to lose.

    The pains were spreading through his body. There wasn¡¯t a part of him that didn¡¯t ache.

    It had been difficult enough to move. Though the adrenaline had helped in that particular case.

    The only thing that kept him going now was hope.

    If these Zendaar tricked him, who would he turn to?

    So he might as well bring the mask.

    It was his last hope.

    His last chance to survive this dreadful illness.

    Their new place was a small apartment in a run-down building. Victor had suggested it, as he knew the owner¡¯s son. Jack had been concerned it might be another fanatic out for foreigner blood, but the boy had assured him this man did not care about politics or religion. His only god was money. And Jack had plenty of that.

    The downside was they only had one room. Victor had insisted Jack sleep in the bed¡ªhe could see his health deteriorating every day¡ªwhile he would lie on the couch. He would fit better there anyway, as he was smaller.

    He reread the message and smiled.

    The meeting was for tonight.

    If all went well, tomorrow, he¡¯d be a new man. No more coughing and no more suffering.

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    Though something troubled him.

    The message made no mention of the price he asked. It only stated they wanted to meet.

    What did it mean?

    He had assumed it meant they agreed to his terms, but now he was not so sure anymore.

    Were they going to try to trick him?

    He coughed and looked at the mask that rested on a nearby chair.

    The boy would keep it, he decided. They¡¯d put it in a bag and the boy would hide somewhere nearby. If all things went well, he¡¯d have it brought to him. If not, Victor would take it back to the authorities.

    If he didn¡¯t get what he wanted, why would he let the Zendaar have what they wanted?

    ***

    Alarms blared all around him as he scanned through the reports. There were no errors.

    This was what he had feared the most.

    The renegades had become more daring.

    They had separated and launched attacks in different spots.

    He could not stop them all.

    It just wasn¡¯t possible.

    Which meant he¡¯d have to decide which of the three to stop.

    He quickly brought up population counts and directed his ship toward the area with the largest number. It tore him he had to sacrifice all those other people, but what else was he to do?

    The ship landed on the outskirts of Eqqalin. With a population of over two million, it was one of the largest cities on the planet.

    Panic had already spread through the streets, with crowds attempting to flee the region. Entire buildings had collapsed into giant chasms. Those that still stood were in flames, with large cracks forming all over their walls.

    He wondered if the time he¡¯d taken to double-check the data and pick a site hadn¡¯t made him arrive too late to stop even one of these earthquakes.

    Without further delay, he pressed his hands to the ground and sent his energies into the earth. He closed his eyes and pictured the cracks closing, the flames fizzling out... He couldn¡¯t bring the fallen structures back up¡ªmuch less resurrect the victims¡ªbut he could at least alleviate the damage and stop the bleeding.

    It took him a good ten minutes, but he could feel the tremors weakening until, finally, they were completely gone.

    He stood and looked around.

    People had gathered around him, pointing fingers in his direction, muttering.

    Great. Just what he needed.

    He turned and stepped into his ship. To the eyes of the witnesses, it would have looked like he¡¯d disappeared into thin air, since they could not perceive his vessel.

    Back in the circular room, he ran instructions intended to pinpoint the seismic activity¡¯s epicenter. He did not expect any of them to still be there, but it wouldn¡¯t hurt to check.

    It took him into a clearing in the middle of a forest. The forest itself had been hit pretty hard by the quakes, with half its trees fallen.

    There was nothing else there to see aside from destruction.

    He tapped into the news feed of the planet-wide TriVid system and watched footage from the other two disasters.

    There had been six thousand dead and over a million wounded, spread across five towns, and two different continents.

    He also saw reports of his intervention. Someone had even managed to film him just as he vanished.

    A few accused him of causing the disaster, though most understood that, in reality, he had stopped the quake.

    There were, of course, those who began to point out the obvious.

    Was this man¡¯s face not familiar?

    Who did he look like?

    And then, his name began to be whispered.

    Xian.

    Voices rose all over the planet, chanting his name, praising him...

    Their god had returned.

 Part III - Chapter 16

    She¡¯d heard the sirens just as she was shutting down the TriVid screen.

    A glance through the window had confirmed what she¡¯d feared: the police were here!

    She knew the key hack hadn¡¯t set off any alarms, but possibly a neighbor had seen her go in or heard noises coming from a dead man¡¯s apartment...

    Cursing, Susan had hurried out and down the stairs. She¡¯d have to avoid the elevator to increase her chance of escape.

    The police must not have known it was her, or they¡¯d likely have brought more men. It must have been reported as a simple burglary, so there just was the one car.

    Once in the lobby, she¡¯d waited to make sure the coast was clear, then she¡¯d walked out without running.

    She now walked at a brisker pace, trying to process all the new information she¡¯d gathered.

    With a tap on her wristpad, she brought up her uncle¡¯s ID and called him up on her holovisor.

    His face quickly appeared on her retina.

    ¡°You shouldn¡¯t be calling me,¡± he warned in a worried voice.

    ¡°Have they wired your holo?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± he said, sounding shocked by the suggestion, ¡°that¡¯d be illegal. But the police are just outside. They could come in any minute...¡±

    ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter. I can clear my name now. I know who the killer is!¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s Trent Little, uncle. You remember him? A friend of dad¡¯s. His name is all over Lucaan¡¯s files. He¡¯s the one who brought back the alien technology dad had inside him...¡±

    ¡°Is that all? I hate to break it to you, kiddo, but bringing back something to its rightful owner does not make you a murderer.¡±

    She clicked her tongue. ¡°It has to be him. Who else would have had the motive?¡±

    ¡°Maybe. Maybe not. The fact of the matter is you don¡¯t have evidence.¡±

    It was infuriating how often her uncle tended to be right.

    ¡°Well, I don¡¯t need evidence if he confesses, do I?¡±

    Duncan frowned.

    ¡°Are you crazy?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll get the truth out of him if it¡¯s the last thing I do. I just wanted you to know, in case anything happens to me.¡±

    ¡°No, Susan! You can¡¯t do this. Go to the police. Explain what you¡¯ve found, they¡¯ll¡ª¡±

    ¡°They¡¯ll lock me up, that¡¯s what they¡¯ll do. You know how I got Trent¡¯s name? By breaking and entering. Just another crime they¡¯ll add to my rap sheet. I have to see this through, Duncan. I¡¯m sorry.¡± She hesitated, then added: ¡°In case it¡¯s the last time we talk, I just want you to know I appreciate everything you¡¯ve done for me. And I love you. Goodbye.¡±

    ¡°Susan¡ª¡±

    She cut off the call.

    With a few more taps, she brought up Trent Little¡¯s address.

    It would take twenty minutes to get there.

    She¡¯d have to use public transportation again.

    But it¡¯d be worth it.

    ***

    The meeting was to take place in a park. And while he would have preferred a more public place, he had not argued as he also understood the need for discretion.

    In some ways, he preferred this as well... he was, after all, a fugitive.

    As for the Zendaar, he knew they would draw too much attention¡ªif just from fanatics who adored them¡ªwhich would make all conversations about the mask difficult to hold in too public a place.

    The park was a good pick. It was quiet, and no longer crowded at this late hour.

    He coughed as he walked down the trail that led to the specific spot they had chosen. It was even more out of the way, near a small quiet stream.

    The growing pains in his body slowed him down, making him late. There were four of them waiting. Two sat on a bench, a bit out of the way; another stood near the stream; the fourth sat on a different bench, with a cane on his knees.

    The latter nodded at him as he approached.

    ¡°Mr. Arnett?¡± he asked.

    ¡°Please, call me Jack.¡±

    ¡°I am Evken. You¡¯ll excuse me if I do not stand, but my legs tire quickly. They are not as young as they once were. Please, sit with me.¡±

    Jack did so, though with a frown. This business with the legs was troubling him. If the Zendaar were immortal, how could this one have such an insignificant problem? Should it not have been healed, erased by their powers?

    ¡°You have the mask?¡±

    ¡°It is within reach.¡±

    Evken smiled. ¡°I understand.¡±

    ¡°Are you willing to pay the price I have asked?¡±

    The dark-haired Zendaar considered him thoughtfully.

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    ¡°Before I answer that, I must ask... why do you want immortality?¡±

    ¡°That is my business.¡±

    ¡°Very well.¡± Evken stood, leaning on his cane. ¡°Goodbye, Mr. Arnett.¡± He started to walk away.

    This caught Jack by surprise.

    ¡°Wait!¡± he called out.

    Evken turned. ¡°Yes?¡±

    Jack frowned. ¡°Why would it matter to you why I want this if it¡¯s the price for the mask? Don¡¯t you want the mask?¡±

    ¡°The question is not whether I want the mask, but whether you are willing to keep it until you are caught by your authorities.¡±

    The historian crossed his arms. They were going to trick him, weren¡¯t they? He could feel it coming.

    ¡°I am dying,¡± he hissed. ¡°That¡¯s why.¡±

    Evken stared at him for a long moment, then returned to the bench.

    ¡°I see,¡± he finally said. ¡°I am sorry to hear that. It is, however, the normal ending to every living thing.¡±

    ¡°Except for the Zendaar,¡± he said derisively.

    ¡°It is not quite so simple¡ª¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t care,¡± snapped Jack. ¡°If it was just the dying, I¡¯d put up with it. But the pain is killing me.¡± He cringed at his unintended pun. ¡°Quite literally, in this case.¡±

    ¡°And you believe you are unique?¡±

    ¡°No. Of course not! But I am in a position to do something about it.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve gone to great lengths to put yourself in that position.¡±

    ¡°What is it to you?¡±

    ¡°I am merely trying to understand whether you understand what it is, exactly, you are asking of us.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not that complicated...¡±

    ¡°Ah, but it is. Immortality is not just about living forever. In fact, if that is your definition, then there is no such thing. There are many ways we Zendaar can die or even be killed. But this extended life we have cannot be given so easily. Nor is it free for us to give. It also comes with a price. A curse, some might even say.¡±

    ¡°I know all about your feeding habits if that¡¯s what you¡¯re hinting at.¡±

    Evken quirked a brow as he considered the historian. ¡°You should not listen to all the stories that are out there. Most of them are nonsense.¡±

    ¡°So you will not pay the price I ask?¡± asked Jack irritably.

    ¡°I would rather give you something more useful. Since what you truly seek is an end to your suffering, there are ways you could¡ª¡±

    ¡°Are you seriously going to offer me a cure when you can¡¯t even cure your own affliction?¡± lashed out Jack, pointing at the other¡¯s legs.

    The Zendaar winced. ¡°Some of us,¡± he said softly, ¡°prefer it this way. It reminds us of what it means to be human. You should not so quickly turn your back on what you are¡ª¡±

    ¡°Enough!¡± Jack stood. It was his time to stand his ground. ¡°If you don¡¯t pay the price, then there is no deal.¡±

    He turned and started to walk away. After all, if this Zendaar wouldn¡¯t give him what he wanted, he could always go back to the madman... That thought gave him a shudder. But nobody said he needed to like the person he sold the mask to.

    ¡°Very well,¡± he heard Evken¡¯s voice say. The man sounded tired, as if he carried the whole weight of the world on his shoulders. ¡°I will give you what you want. But I will need to see the mask first.¡±

    Jack smiled. Though he made the smile disappear before he spun to face the Zendaar again.

    ¡°Of course.¡±

    Ignoring the pain in his arm, he sent a message to Victor using his wristpad. The boy soon came running with the bag.

    Evken grabbed it and pulled out the mask. He studied it for a long time, his face filled with awe and hope.

    He finally looked at Jack and said:

    ¡°The truth is, there is only one who can give you what you seek. And that one is not I. If you do not feel this acceptable, I shall return the mask to you. But know that none other would be able to meet your price.¡±

    Jack squinted. What trick was this?

    ¡°Then why would I not give the mask to him?¡±

    ¡°Because he has no interest in it,¡± shrugged Evken. ¡°You would be surprised how few among my people do.¡±

    If this was true, then this would likely be the best offer he¡¯d get. But if the man was lying...

    ¡°And why would this other give me what I want?¡±

    ¡°That, I cannot say. You want immortality. My counter-offer is the name of the only one who can give it to you, and a means to reach him. Beyond that, the rest is in your hands. But you are resourceful. You¡¯ve proven it.¡±

    Jack didn¡¯t like it.

    But, at the same time, could he afford to refuse this Zendaar¡¯s offer?

    ¡°Very well. What is the name?¡±

    Evken slid the mask back into the bag and handed it to one of the others who had come with him. Then, he turned to face Jack.

    ¡°Rakash Kahn,¡± he said softly. ¡°That is his name.¡±

    ***

    It rested elegantly on the table. Its porous surface glistened as if tears had pearled under its always staring eyes. The substance was neither stone nor flesh. It had a grayish hue, that seemed at times more blue or more green. There was something about it that felt like it was alive, despite it not having shown any sign of activity. It seemed deceptively trivial. Bland. And yet, it held an infinity of wisdom and knowledge.

    They were all there. Sitting around the table. Quietly observing it. All fifty-three of the Szelkin had gathered for this momentous occasion. Seldom had they ever all been together in the same room, though they knew each other well.

    There were moments when the mask¡¯s appearance seemed to slightly shift, only for the briefest of moments. It would then reflect the light of the sun, forcing one of them to turn his gaze away or to close his eyes. Each time, though, the one affected would wonder if, perhaps, he had dreamed it. Because there it was, exactly as it had been when it was brought here, barely an hour ago... though all of them felt like it might have been an eternity.

    ¡°You should do it,¡± said one of them, looking at Evken. ¡°You brought it, after all. It¡¯d only be fair.¡±

    There was a hint of fear in his voice, suggesting his motive may be more than respectful consideration.

    The dark-haired Zendaar, who rested his right hand on the pommel of his cane, shook his head.

    ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°Why not?¡±

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t feel right.¡±

    Several gazes turned to him. There was curiosity in those eyes.

    ¡°Are we worthy to wear the face of a god?¡± he deemed necessary to clarify. ¡°Who are we to be so presumptuous?¡±

    ¡°But it holds all the answers we have sought for so long!¡± exclaimed one of his peers. ¡°How can we just sit here and stare at it and not do anything?¡±

    ¡°Then you put it on,¡± snorted another.

    The one who had protested sat back with a grimace on his face. It was one thing to talk, quite another to act.

    Evken would not have thought it¡¯d be so difficult to make such a simple gesture. Even when he¡¯d held the item in his hands for the first time, in that park, he wouldn¡¯t have guessed.

    But now... the sheer magnitude of the act made his mind reel.

    ¡°For the love of Xhoras! Are we all cowards?¡±

    The one who had talked suddenly stood, leaned, grabbed the mask, and in one fell swoop placed it on his face.

    For a second, the room went completely silent. You would have thought their heartbeats had stopped as well, as they all stared expectedly.

    And then...

    The silence was broken by a gut-wrenching scream as the one who wore the mask began to shake uncontrollably. He fell to the ground, his body contorting into violent spasms. His hands grabbed at the mask and tried to pull it off... when he finally managed to, half his skin was ripped off with it. What was left of his face was bubbling and melting, as if acid had been thrown at it.

    When his screams finally stopped, so did his shaking... and his breathing.

    They all stared at their dead friend.

    Then one of them leaned down, grabbed the mask, and gently placed it back on the table.

    As he did this, Evken noted the skin and blood that had been glued to the inside of its surface had all disappeared, as if absorbed by the artifact.

    They remained quiet for a long time.

    Then, one of them stood and stepped out of the room, calling out.

    A human servant arrived.

    Evken tensed.

    ¡°Talhus, no...¡±

    The other snapped at him. ¡°Do you want to wake the gods or not?¡±

    He scowled but said nothing more.

    The one named Talhus went to the table, took the mask, turned to the human, and handed it to him.

    ¡°Here. Put this on.¡±

    The human stared at it hesitantly. He glanced fearfully at all those gathered, then at the disfigured corpse. He swallowed hard, but obediently followed the given instructions. Because this was what was expected of him, and it would not do to not obey.

    Some of them turned their eyes away... But, oddly and inexplicably, nothing happened.

    Frowns appeared on many of their faces.

    Talhus reached out and took the mask off.

    The human blinked.

    He was alive and in perfect health.

    ¡°Go!¡±

    The servant ran out.

    The mask was set back at the center of the table.

    And, once again, they all sat quietly staring at it.

 Part III - Chapter 17

    Still struggling with all the revelations, he wandered through the streets of Joqqal.

    The authorities had warned foreigners to stay indoors, as conditions had become too volatile for them to ensure their safety.

    But Paul didn¡¯t care. He had bigger problems.

    A mother who claimed to be a goddess and a father who was... what, exactly? An immortal alien?

    To further complicate matters, said mother had made outrageous claims about said father. And while he didn¡¯t want to believe her, it would explain a lot of things.

    Like why she had wanted him killed upon his birth¡ªan evil reminder of the corruption she had been subjected to.

    Like why she had rejected him¡ªwhen what she had truly wanted to reject was the memory of that stain on her past, of the infamies she had endured under that creature¡¯s yoke.

    Like why his father had never come looking for him. Heck, he had not even recognized him, had he?

    Granted, he had never seen him as an adult, but his connection to the mask should have made him understand this was his long-lost son... Maybe he had realized it but chose to ignore it. Or to just use it to his advantage. To manipulate him.

    Into doing what, though?

    Giving him information about the mask. How he¡¯d taken it, and where it was. Not that he¡¯d been of much help in that department.

    And what of this story about the three renegades?

    Had that been made up?

    The function of the mask... was that real?

    He didn¡¯t know what to believe anymore.

    All of it just seemed so fantastical to him.

    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

    As those thoughts crept through his mind, he felt something else. A familiar warmth mounted inside him. There was pain, too. He did not feel it as much as sense it. There was a pattern to the energies that suddenly flowed through him... a pattern he recognized from the two times he had been close to the mask. It was awake. It was suffering.

    And then, it was over.

    He realized he had stopped walking and was sweating profusely.

    People stared at him as they walked by. Some with curiosity, others with anger.

    He wiped his forehead and started moving again.

    What did it mean?

    ***

    When it began to rain, no one gave it a second thought. It was, after all, a fairly mundane thing. As the day went on, some wondered about the duration of the downpour. When it started to fall harder and still had not relented by nightfall, many worried.

    The following day, still it rained. Dark skies had gathered in the sky, blocking the rays of the sun.

    Scientists warned a large tornado was nearing the shore.

    While this, in itself, was worrisome, it also appeased many minds, as they thought it explained the constant rain they¡¯d had.

    There were slight tremors in the evening.

    And then, all the TriVid screens on the entire planet went dark.

    Though only for a few seconds.

    When the image returned, it showed three figures standing at the top of a mountain.

    They spread their arms and stared straight into the eyes of the people.

    And then, they spoke.

    ¡°People of Qojja! I am Xhoras.¡±

    ¡°And I, Udrak.¡±

    ¡°And I, Verlhynn.¡±

    ¡°We have come to rain upon you the judgment of the One True God,¡± said Xhoras, ¡°whose name cannot be spoken.¡±

    ¡°For to speak it would be blasphemy,¡± said Udrak.

    ¡°To even know it would be blasphemy,¡± said Verlhynn.

    ¡°His judgment is just. His judgment is wise. His judgement is merciless. For this world is an abomination in His eyes. As are the people who inhabit it. And thus, in His great mercy, He has granted you all His greatest of gifts. The gift of eternal sleep.¡±

    Then, together, all three voices rang out as one:

    ¡°Despair, people of Qojja! For your end is nigh.¡±

    The transmission ended as abruptly as it had started.

    At that very instant, the tornado¡ªwhich was due to land in eight hours¡ªsuddenly hit the city and blasted all the structures it met on its way.

    Lightning streaked the sky as a gigantic ship appeared out of nowhere. Colors twirled on its deep black surface. A bright light shone around it as energies pulsed from within, dispersing the winds, and forcing the storm to turn away.

    Panicked crowds ran in every direction, screaming and crying as they tried to find shelter.

    Few noticed the ship or the effect it had.

    Because, while it had turned the storm away, it could not stop the rain, the thunder, or the darkness.

    Because, while it seemed like a localized event to those in the streets below, the renegades had in reality triggered a chain reaction that affected the entire planet.

    It was too much to handle for the one lone Rissl who sat inside the ship.

 Part III - Chapter 18

    The patterns were unmistakable.

    Finally a sign!

    Someone had tried to use the mask.

    As he attempted to pinpoint its location, his entire system began to blink and wail, hundreds of messages flashing on his retina, colors swirling erratically all over the circular wall.

    With a few expert taps, he filtered the chatter and read the relevant data. His throat tightened as he grasped the severity of the situation.

    Why had he not seen this coming?

    They were very smart.

    They distracted him with all those smaller attacks, kept him busy while they prepared something much more far-reaching and much harder for him to counteract.

    He could tell, well before the broadcasted message, that he would be near powerless. He¡¯d be able to stop specific events, but the damage done to the core of the planet would be difficult to circumvent.

    When the tornado fell upon Joqqal, he threw his ship into its eye and pumped as much energy as he could into the storm. It would make him visible, but it did not matter anymore at this stage. There were more pressing issues.

    Once the immediate danger was under control, he tapped in Cora¡¯s holo ID. Her familiar face quickly appeared on his retina.

    ¡°You¡¯re safe,¡± he remarked with relief.

    She smiled. ¡°Yes. Thank you for your concern... And for saving us. I assume that was your doing?¡± He nodded. ¡°What of the rain?¡±

    ¡°That... will be more difficult. They went deep into the planet to corrupt its inner core. There will be consequences. And not just here. I¡¯ll only be able to stop localized events as they appear.¡±

    ¡°So... there¡¯s nothing you can do to stop them?¡±

    ¡°I need the mask!¡± he said desperately. ¡°Without it, capturing them would be pointless as I¡¯d have no way to contain them.¡±

    ¡°Can¡¯t you make another one?¡±

    He laughed. ¡°No. I did not even make this one. It is, in fact, well beyond my skills.¡±

    ¡°But it has your face!¡±

    ¡°The mask takes on the shape of its first wearer.¡±

    ¡°Oh. So what are our options?¡±

    Xian looked at his screen and scanned through the data he¡¯d set aside when the storm had hit.

    ¡°The mask was worn recently. This made it possible for me to locate it. I¡¯m headed there now.¡±

    ¡°Alright. Keep me posted?¡±

    ¡°I will. And you stay safe!¡±

    He cut the communication and entered the coordinates into the navigation system.

    The ship veered, picked up speed, and rushed toward Ahuaxa.

    ***

    Trent Little was a small man with a bald head and a gray beard. The glasses on his nose could not hide the surprise in his eyes when he opened his door and found her standing before him.

    ¡°Susan! What a surprise. I... Well.¡± He cleared his throat. ¡°Please. Come in.¡±

    She did, though she made sure she never lost sight of him.

    ¡°To what do I owe this pleasure?¡±

    A little voice in her head was whispering that someone with a clean conscience would have immediately made some sort of reference to the fact she was a fugitive¡ªor at the very least acted nervous.

    Well, admittedly, he was acting nervous, wasn¡¯t he?

    ¡°I wanted to talk about my parents.¡±

    He tilted his head. ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure I¡¯ve told you everything I know... But I¡¯d be happy to answer any further questions you may have.¡±

    They walked into the living room, and he motioned for her to sit down.

    ¡°We could have done this over a holo call, you know?¡± he remarked. ¡°Like last time. You really didn¡¯t need to go to all this trouble¡ª¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s no trouble at all.¡±

    ¡°Yes, well... Would you like something to drink?¡±

    She smiled. ¡°See. If I hadn¡¯t come, I wouldn¡¯t have had the pleasure to share a drink with you. Whiskey, please.¡±

    Trent chuckled as he poured her the drink. ¡°Fair enough.¡±

    She watched him carefully. If he was the killer, as she suspected, he could try anything... like slipping something into her glass. She wondered if she shouldn¡¯t have turned down the drink after all.

    ¡°You say you¡¯ve told me everything... Are you sure you haven¡¯t forgotten something?¡±

    He came back with her glass¡ªand none for himself, she noted¡ªwith a thoughtful expression.

    ¡°No. At least, I don¡¯t think so.¡±

    ¡°Did you ever see them again? After they left, I mean.¡±

    He sat down across from her. ¡°After? Let me see. I think I remember a couple of holo calls with David...¡±

    ¡°Is that all? You never met in person?¡±

    There was a slight twitch in his face that made her go ¡°aha!¡± in her head.

    ¡°No,¡± he said slowly. ¡°He wasn¡¯t on the planet anymore, so...¡±

    ¡°And you never left Vuulthur?¡±

    He stared at her.

    ¡°Well, as a matter of fact, I did. A couple of times. For work.¡±

    ¡°Oh? What type of work?¡±

    ¡°What is this about, Susan?¡±

    ¡°I think you know.¡±

    She had not touched her glass and had decided safer not to. She hadn¡¯t seen him pour anything into it, but she wasn¡¯t going to take any chances.

    Trent¡¯s expression soured. ¡°Really, I don¡¯t¡ª¡±

    ¡°Why did you do it? Just tell me that.¡±

    Her father¡¯s former friend stood and walked over to the kitchen.

    ¡°Honestly, Susan, I have no idea what you¡¯re talking about.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re lying. I know it. You know it. So let¡¯s cut to the chase. I have proof you brought back the alien technology my father had inside him. You brought it back to Lucaan Labs. That was the ¡®work¡¯ you were doing.¡±

    Trent froze in his steps, his back turned to her.

    A sigh came from him as he reached out to a drawer and opened it.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± he muttered, ¡°but you¡¯re not giving me much choice.¡±

    ¡°I should warn you I¡¯ve taken precautions,¡± she lied¡ªcursing herself for not having actually done this. ¡°The proof is in a safe. Instructions to open it have been sent to friends, in the event of my death... or disappearance.¡±

    Trent walked back to the living room, slowly.

    He held a knife.

    ¡°You have, have you?¡±

    She stared at the weapon in his hand and tried to keep her voice from trembling.

    ¡°Tell me why you did it.¡±

    ¡°Why do you think?¡± he spat. ¡°For the money, of course.¡±

    ¡°My father was your friend!¡±

    Trent laughed. ¡°That fool? No. He always thought he was the smartest guy in the room, and constantly looked down on me. Sure, I smiled and pretended to like him. But, really? I despised him. Not that it really matters. He stole Lucaan property. I was to bring it back. The only way I could do it was to cut him open. Your mother was just an unfortunate witness.¡±

    It was a strange sensation.

    There was anger in her, rising with every word. And yet, at the same time, a feeling of relief, to finally know what had happened. To finally understand.

    ¡°And Jones?¡±

    ¡°He¡¯d figured it out and was blackmailing me. Figured I¡¯d kill two birds with one stone.¡±

    He had come closer, so she stood now and lifted a hand.

    ¡°I¡¯m telling you, you don¡¯t want to do that...¡±

    If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    Trent shrugged. ¡°Why not? I think you¡¯re bluffing. And even if you aren¡¯t... if I let you go, I¡¯d still end up in jail. So what does it matter? I have nothing left to lose.¡±

    Without another word, he lunged at her, pushing the knife forward.

    She jumped out of the way and ran toward the door.

    But he was faster and cut her off, waving the blade in her direction.

    ¡°House! Call the police!¡± she cried out.

    Trent laughed. ¡°I disabled my AI years ago. Never liked it. I prefer the quiet.¡±

    She thought of jumping at him, or kicking the weapon out of his hand, but she had no illusions about her chances of success. She was no fighter. He was an experienced killer. Her odds did not look good.

    ¡°You won¡¯t get away with this!¡±

    ¡°Maybe, maybe not... I¡¯m curious to find out. I¡¯ve always liked to gamble.¡±

    As he leaped at her again, she jumped backward and hit the table. She fell, just as the knife swooshed where her breast had been a second ago.

    From the corner of her eye, she saw the still full glass he had brought her. She grabbed it and tossed the contents at his face.

    That caught him by surprise, making him stagger back.

    She took those few seconds to run to the door and step outside, into the howling wind.

    He came running after her.

    Though she moved as fast as she could, she was no match for him.

    He caught up and slashed at her arm.

    She felt the sting and screamed.

    And tripped.

    He came down on top of her and lifted the knife.

    She held out her hands to try and block him.

    As the blade dove toward her face, a shadowy figure rushed at the killer and tossed him to the ground, off of Susan.

    The two tumbled, rolled, and struggled.

    Susan sat up, dazed and startled.

    As she watched the two of them fighting, wondering what had happened... she recognized the newcomer¡¯s face as her uncle¡¯s.

    It was a surreal scene, where the two held each other¡¯s wrists. Because, she realized, Duncan had a phaser he was trying to aim at the killer, while the killer was trying to stab her uncle.

    The struggle lasted for what might have been an eternity¡ªit certainly felt that way to her, with everything seeming to run in slow motion.

    And all of a sudden, it was over.

    Duncan¡¯s strength faltered, and the knife plunged into his heart.

    As glee overtook Trent, a shot rang out.

    The killer froze.

    Blood dripped from his lips.

    Then his body went limp and he fell to the ground, dead.

    ¡°Duncan!¡± she screamed as she ran to her uncle¡¯s side.

    His breath was slow, his eyes fluttering in the wind. But he managed to smile, a sad little smile, as he held up a hand to her cheek.

    ¡°The truth lies at moonrise,¡± he whispered.

    His voice trailed off as his eyes closed.

    ¡°No!¡± she cried. ¡°Don¡¯t die!¡±

    Tears trailed down her cheeks as she rocked the body of her uncle.

    In the distance, the sound of sirens grew louder.

    ***

    Once again, sleep had eluded him. Partly because of the constant pains that riddled his insides, but also because he was much too anxious.

    Turning and twisting in his bed for hours, Jack wondered whether his message had been received. Or how long would it take to get a reply?

    Evken had given him an electronic address. It felt so impersonal...

    ¡°Can¡¯t I just meet him?¡± he¡¯d asked.

    ¡°Rakash is not within easy reach of humans. This is the only way.¡±

    ¡°Will he answer?¡±

    ¡°He will. Though I cannot guarantee a positive one.¡±

    With a groan, he reached out to the medicine on the nightstand.

    His throat was sore from so much coughing.

    He swallowed three pills and lay back down.

    This time, he didn¡¯t even bother to close his eyes.

    What was the point?

    He could tell he wouldn¡¯t get any sleep.

    What would he do if Rakash said no?

    He had refused to consider that option ever since he¡¯d sent his message. And yet, he knew it was a distinct possibility. Shouldn¡¯t he prepare for it?

    Should he then just accept his fate?

    He¡¯d thought of killing himself more than once.

    It would ease the pain, at least.

    But it felt so extreme.

    He still had so much to do.

    So much history to explore.

    So many worlds to see.

    But, more importantly, he didn¡¯t want to die.

    He wanted to live.

    The pain in his liver made him wince.

    His wristpad blinked red.

    He sat up in his bed and stared at it.

    A new message had arrived.

    With a trembling finger, he tapped the mini-screen and brought up his inbox.

    It was from Rakash!

    He opened it.

    Read.

    Stared a long time at the mini-screen, until his vision blurred.

    He wiped his eyes, then lay back down.

    Now he knew he definitely wouldn¡¯t be able to sleep.

    How could he?

    The message had been short and to the point.

    June one word.

    One cruel little word.

    ¡°No.¡±

    A coughing bout made him double over in his bed.

    He tossed the covers off him and grabbed angrily at a box of pills and tossed a bunch of them into his mouth, not bothering to count.

    With a shaking hand, he drank from a bottle of water to help wash down the medicine.

    He placed it back on the nightstand.

    Well, if he couldn¡¯t sleep, he might as well keep himself busy.

    He stood and paused.

    His head was spinning.

    He felt dizzy.

    Taking a few steps, he rested his hand against the wall.

    He¡¯d wait a few seconds for the wooziness to fade.

    The pains grew within him.

    It felt like something was gnawing at his insides.

    He let out a loud groan. Grimaced.

    Took another step toward the door.

    Screamed as he toppled and fell to the floor.

    When Victor ran into the room, he found Jack lying on the ground, his body shaken by violent spasms.

    The boy immediately called for an ambulance.

    ***

    They had lived many lives while they had slept.

    They were trapped, yet they could dream.

    And through those dreams, they had prepared.

    Humans were so easy to manipulate.

    With patience, over the course of centuries, one could lead them to believe anything.

    They needed a world in turmoil... so they planted seeds, sowed rumors, and stoked fear.

    By inspiring the foundation of religions. Were the Zendaar not gods, after all? Did they not live forever? Did they not possess inconceivable powers? Surely, they must be gods... And should gods not be loved and praised?

    By whispering of the impious Weld that liked to meddle with that which they did not comprehend. This was not their world. Why did they come here? To steal our precious artifacts, our technology, our beliefs, our wealth...

    By influencing the Zendaar as well. One would only need to tell them what they wanted to hear. Give them hope. Show them there was a path to those answers they sought. If only they would wake the dreamers. Were the Suryi not gods, after all? Did they not live forever? Did they not possess inconceivable powers? Surely, they must be gods... And would these gods not hold the answers to all of their questions?

    They also needed tools... of both species. Creatures they could use for their purposes, and discard when no longer needed.

    One who studied history could be of service. And what better way to give him purpose than an incurable disease?

    One who hungered for power and revenge would be invaluable. Lure him in with the illusion of a bright future, wherein he would rule over all of his kin.

    One who studied archaeology may prove useful as well. Feed him tantalizing bits of a mythical city to reel him in. Let him uncover the truth about the Zendaar and reveal it to the world.

    But, more importantly, they needed the mask.

    That was the most challenging part of all.

    For only one of their kind could take it.

    Their dreamskins were powerless, which left the cursed Xian.

    Could they trick him into removing the mask?

    That was unlikely.

    But if the cursed Xian were to have a child, would that child not have that same ability? And would a child not be more malleable? All the moreso one uprooted from his family, and on a constant quest for answers?

    The idea came to Thyria in a dream. It was a beautiful one, that played on all her fantasies and lusts. She so wanted revenge on the one who had spurned her. If only she could trick him into doing that which he had refused? How sweet a taste that would be on her tongue...

    After the act had been consumed, they used magic to ensure she would bear a child. It was not something she had expected, so her reaction was unpleasant. They had to watch Alyssya, make sure she did not obey her mistress. It was at the young woman¡¯s most vulnerable, when she was in tears, about to do the deed, that one of them came to her in a dreamskin and offered to take the child.

    They then gave him to an orphanage and watched over him.

    In later years, they expanded their influence to his friends. Inspired them to become historians...

    Little by little, all of the pieces were set into motion.

    For five thousand years, the Suryi slept.

    For five thousand years, their dreamskins thrived and plotted.

    ***

    The sky was dark and thunder roared in the distance.

    Rain had not discontinued for over two days now.

    All of them had been devastated by the news.

    Could they have been so wrong?

    They had stared at the mask, wondering how to use it, how to wake the gods... and yet, they were already awake.

    Not only were they awake, but they were angry.

    They had set forth their wrath upon the world.

    But why?

    Evken did not understand.

    He had never met them when they first came to Qojja. Though they had done terrible things then, too, it had always been just¡ªwreaking their wrath on those who had sinned the most. But then Xian, in his infinite wisdom, had put them all to sleep.

    The legend said only the mask could wake them.

    And now, they were awake.

    And they hadn¡¯t even needed to wear the mask.

    They had met around the artifact again. This time to decide what to do with it. And, more importantly, how to talk to the gods. Could they use the mask for that purpose?

    Lightning streaked the sky.

    As Evken glanced through the window, his eyes paused.

    Something was there. Growing.

    He rose to his feet, leaned on his cane, and stepped outside the building.

    The others, who had followed his gaze and noticed the incoming shape, joined him under the rain.

    As the form grew, they saw there were three of them.

    Though they still were far, they understood immediately and fell to their knees, bowing their heads.

    The gods had heard them. And they had granted them an audience.

    When finally they touched the ground, the wind that had carried them relented¡ªthough the rain did not.

    The one they knew to be the leader sneered as he glanced toward the house¡ªwherein the mask rested, on the same table as it had before.

    ¡°Had I not told you so, my brother, my sister?¡± he said, with a disdainful gesture toward the room. ¡°Had I not said these frail, flawed creatures would flock to the mask, consumed by their insatiable greed, like bugs to a rotting corpse?¡±

    ¡°Oh, mighty ones!¡± dared Evken. ¡°We are blessed to be in your presence. We have lingered so long for your return... would you tell us the meaning of our lives?¡±

    The three of them turned their derisive gazes upon him.

    ¡°The meaning of your lives?¡± snorted Xhoras.

    ¡°Why are we so cursed?¡± insisted Evken. ¡°Why are we not more like the humans? Why are we prisoners of this forsaken world? Who are we?¡±

    ¡°So many questions,¡± said Udrak.

    ¡°Silly questions,¡± remarked Verlhynn.

    Xhoras lifted a hand to quiet them. There was a smile on his lips, though it was one filled with contempt.

    ¡°Everything serves a purpose. Birds rule over insects. Snakes rule over birds. Foxes rule over snakes. Humans rule over foxes... And the Zendaar rule over humans. It is the natural order of things.¡±

    Evken glanced at Xhoras, not sure what to make of those words. Was that really all there was to it? Were they just a part of the chain, never intended for any other purpose? Was there nothing more? Was there no curse? Had they never been intended to be human after all?

    ¡°But,¡± he heard a trembling voice rise from behind him to echo his own thoughts, ¡°is that all there is to it? Are we truly gods, then, if there is none to rule over us?¡±

    It was Rosdak who had spoken. Evken knew him well. He had been there, that fateful night, when Rakash had enrolled them by force. He had been as much a believer and a questioner as he had himself been, as long as he remembered.

    ¡°I thought you¡¯d never ask,¡± said Xhoras as he approached, reached out, and grabbed Rosdak¡¯s face.

    His friend tried to break free, but the Suryi¡¯s grip was too strong. Those powerful fingers slowly sunk into the man¡¯s skull. He screamed as his blood dried, his skin shriveled, his bones cracked, his eyes glazed, his hair thinned, and his life drained out of him.

    Evken watched in horror as his friend¡¯s disfigured and withered body fell to the ground¡ªall that was left of him was an empty husk.

    Only then did Xhoras respond, with a satisfied smile on his face:

    ¡°We rule over you, miserable worms.¡±

    The god did not wait. He immediately turned to another of the Szelkin and grabbed his face as well, sucking all of his victim¡¯s essence even as he spoke.

    ¡°Truthfully, you are nothing! There was a flaw in the design, you see. And while you are, indeed, more than the humans, you are also less. You never should have been. And so it is, you will be undone.¡±

    As the other two Suryi struck down more of Evken¡¯s companions, Xhoras let go of his latest victim and walked into the house to grab the mask.

    Evken, who had been petrified with terror, suddenly snapped out of it and rushed to his feet.

    Why were the gods killing them?

    It made no sense!

    Did they deserve to die?

    Had they done something to displease them?

    ¡°Get up! Run!¡± he yelled to his friends.

    But none of them moved.

    They were too shocked, too mesmerized, perhaps even resigned to their fate as, one by one, they were annihilated.

    Human servants stared in horror, though Evken noticed none of them were targeted by the Suryi.

    Xhoras came back out with the mask in his hands and a satisfied expression on his face.

    ¡°Now, my brother, my sister... now, finally, we are free!¡±

    As more of the Zendaar cried and screamed and died at the hands of the two mad gods, Xhoras held the mask up above his head. A multi-colored glow engulfed it as it emitted a vast amount of heat. Then a bolt of lightning suddenly came down and struck it. A blast of light sent rippling waves of shock through the ground and through the air.

    Evken was blown against a tree as the mask exploded into a thousand colored fragments.

 Part IV - Chapter 1

    A low piercing shriek resonated in his head. It sent shivers down his spine as despair grew in his heart.

    The mask was gone.

    Somehow, it had been destroyed.

    Xian was devastated.

    He was so close, too!

    The shock wave had rippled through him just as his ship hovered above the ancient city of Ahuaxa.

    It was storming outside, and as he reoriented his screens he saw the renegades busy slaughtering the Zendaar.

    Xhoras threw the last debris of the precious artifact into the air, then turned to face his next victim.

    Without a moment of hesitation, Xian ejected himself from the ship. There was no time to land¡ªhe could do it remotely later.

    As he fell, he used the nanobots in his body to control the winds and make them carry him to the ground.

    He noticed the man who¡¯d slumped against a tree had now disappeared. Xhoras seemed surprised by this, but he quickly moved to another target.

    That was when his eye caught the approaching shape of his millennia-old enemy.

    ¡°You are too late, Xian!¡± he snickered. ¡°The mask is gone. You can not stop us, this time. We will accomplish our divine mission.¡±

    Even as he landed, the lone Rissl created shields around the surviving Zendaar. They wouldn¡¯t hold if his foes wanted to force through, but at least it would slow them for a while, until he could come up with a better plan.

    ¡°One day you will have to pay for your crimes,¡± he said somberly.

    ¡°Crimes! You dare speak to me of crimes? When you have encouraged this type of abomination? And even partook in it yourself? You are the criminal.¡±

    ¡°There is nothing wrong in creating life. It is no abomination, it is art. Your perception of reality is skewed.¡±

    The other two renegades stopped trying to kill the Zendaar when they noticed the shields. Instead of forcing through them, they walked up to their leader and now stood behind him.

    ¡°Your opinion matters little to us, or to the One True God. In the end, His justice shall prevail.¡±

    He made a small gesture and the three of them, as of one accord, ascended into the air.

    Xian watched them go without an attempt to stop them.

    ¡°Why did you not kill them?¡± hissed a voice from behind him.

    Turning, the Rissl recognized the white-haired man who arrived at the scene, with fury in his eyes.

    ¡°I remember you, Rakash.¡±

    ¡°And I you, Xian. As cowardly as ever.¡±

    ¡°You do not know what you speak of.¡±

    ¡°Is that so?¡±

    Xian never cared for the old Zendaar¡¯s tone, let alone his tendency for intrigue.

    ¡°There is more to the universe than this world,¡± he said¡ªknowing full well how his words would sting. ¡°You are powerful here... may I call you Uncle?¡±

    ¡°You may not.¡±

    ¡°You are powerful here, Uncle,¡± continued Xian, ignoring the response. ¡°But your perception of power is a narrow one. The rules which apply here do not necessarily apply elsewhere.¡±

    ¡°Are you lecturing me?¡± asked Rakash, with poison in his voice.

    ¡°You assumed I could hurt my kin because I have power, just like you can hurt your kin because you have power. I could not, no more than they could hurt me.¡±

    The white-haired man stared at him.

    ¡°You should leave now,¡± he said before turning his back and walking away.

    ***

    One other perceived the mask¡¯s destruction and was similarly shaken by it.

    Paul was sheltering from the storm when it happened. Watching the news in his hotel room.

    There were constant reports now of weather disturbances and various natural disasters.

    Scientists were confused, because none of it made any sense to them. They could predict pattern shifts in advance, but more often than not the timing would suddenly change and the disaster would hit earlier than anticipated.

    The change came as they were announcing yet another tornado.

    It was like a sudden stab in the back of his neck. Except it wasn¡¯t physical. He felt it inside of him. It sent blinding flashes of light all through his being, and he cringed as he understood their significance.

    The mask had been destroyed.

    How was this possible?

    But something else had happened then, he realized.

    It was as if the explosion had created a bridge, a connection between all those who had been able to sense the mask. He could feel and even see¡ªin the form of shifting colors¡ªthe energies that represented them.

    There was Xian, of course, but there were also three others, which Paul assumed were the Rissl his father had mentioned. After all, if they were all of the same species, would it not make sense for them all to be connected?

    Troubled by all these new sensations, he turned off the TriVid screen and closed his eyes, trying to make sense of it all.

    As he concentrated, the patterns took on more substance, becoming easier to grasp and identify.

    They became agitated, as if they too now sensed him. The three runaways, in particular, moved erratically, as if trying to erase all traces of their presence¡ªbut it only made them more prominent.

    He reached out toward the form he knew to be Xian¡¯s.

    Could they communicate in this fashion?

    If so, he could not figure out how.

    His father seemed to sense him. Beyond that, there was no other form of understanding.

    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

    But then, he felt movement.

    As if Xian was traveling.

    It took a long time before he could focus enough to understand what was happening.

    Xian was coming to him.

    When he finally arrived, his first words were: ¡°Who are you?¡±

    Paul grimaced. ¡°Your son, apparently.¡±

    Xian frowned. ¡°That¡¯s impossible!¡±

    ¡°Ever heard of Thyria?¡±

    From the distaste painted on the man¡¯s face, Paul could tell he had.

    ¡°What did that wicked woman tell you?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not just what she told me. I have evidence she¡¯s my mother.¡±

    ¡°That well may be, but I cannot be your father.¡±

    ¡°How can you be so sure?¡±

    ¡°Because I¡¯ve never been with Thyria¡ªnot in that way.¡±

    Paul blinked. ¡°You haven¡¯t? But... Then how do you explain my connection with the mask? Or with you? Or even my powers!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll admit all of those things are troubling, but I cannot see how it could be possible. It just never happened.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know if I can believe you,¡± said Paul with a frown. ¡°Considering¡ª¡±

    ¡°Considering what?¡±

    Paul bit down on his lip, wondering if he¡¯d said too much.

    ¡°Well... let¡¯s just say she didn¡¯t have very flattering things to say about you.¡±

    Xian stared at him, then laughed.

    ¡°What¡¯s so funny?¡±

    ¡°Do you know what the Qojjans claim she is the goddess of?¡±

    ¡°Lust,¡± he grimaced.

    ¡°What else?¡±

    Paul frowned. There had been two other things, hadn¡¯t there?

    What had the priestesses said?

    It came back to him.

    ¡°Contempt and spite.¡±

    ¡°There is good reason for that,¡± remarked Xian.

    ***

    They had writhed in the mud, under the constant rain, screaming and dying.

    He had watched the scene in petrified horror.

    When the mask had exploded, he had wondered if this was how they would die. Not just him and his friends, but his people as a whole¡ªperhaps even the world. Had the gods deemed them unworthy to live? If so, was he not obliged to accept his fate?

    Unperturbed, Xhoras had turned his twisted grin upon Evken. And had slowly started to walk in his direction, with an outreached hand.

    At that moment, Evken had wished he was somewhere else.

    He had not felt like he deserved to die.

    And though he had always thought himself cursed, he very much wanted to live.

    Without him realizing it¡ªcornered into a life-threatening position, with a burning desire to survive¡ªhe had instinctively called upon an ancient power... a technique so old, that all of his brethren had forgotten it had ever even existed.

    Evken had closed his eyes.

    When he had opened them again, he was, in fact, somewhere else.

    Somewhere he had not recognized.

    It was strange... it was dark, it was bright... it was shifting... and though he had never been there before, deep inside of him, it felt familiar.

    Instinctively, he had known...

    He had phased his way into the Gleaming.

    It was a place of perpetual night, where shadows thrived and where darkness fed upon light. There were forests here, as deep as an abyss and as vast as a sea. There were fortresses of bones and castles of blood, lakes of molten rock and streams of acid tears, bottomless pits that drew the wandering souls to suck them into eternal oblivion.

    But, most of all, it was a place of pure magic.

    As Evken looked around him, considering the leafless and blackened trees and the immense chasm that opened beyond, he wondered how, exactly, he had got here. And, more importantly, how he could make his way back to his world.

    For he knew this was not his world.

    Or, rather, had not been in a long time.

    It was a troubling thought, but there was knowledge, ingrained deep inside of him, that this was, in fact, his home. Or had been.

    Our books claim we came through the Gleaming... he remembered.

    He had always wondered what it meant.

    And even now that he was here, he still did.

    A sound made him spin around, waving his cane in front of him.

    A shapeless form moved toward him... a blackness, a fog... it wavered and shifted. Colors spun within, which came into existence and dissolved with a little spark.

    ¡°There has been a shift in the essence...¡±

    The voice came from the form. It sounded hoarse, cavernous, ancient. Powerful, too, in a strange kind of way.

    ¡°What are you?¡± he asked, almost fearful.

    ¡°I am that which always has been and always shall be, and that which cannot be naught.¡±

    Evken grimaced. ¡°Do you have a name?¡±

    There was silence for a moment as the fog changed its shape and texture a few times, as if it were confused by the question.

    ¡°I sense you think of me as Fog. You may address me as such.¡±

    Lowering his cane, Evken leaned on it and sighed.

    ¡°I guess that can do as well as anything else.¡± Using his free hand, he motioned to the broken landscape around them.

    ¡°Where are we?¡±

    ¡°This is the Gleaming. A place between worlds, beyond the realm of men.¡±

    ¡°Between worlds?¡±

    ¡°That is so.¡±

    ¡°How is that possible?¡± he asked.

    ¡°It simply is.¡±

    He started to walk, away from the chasm. There was a path nearby which he decided to follow. He noticed Fog was floating along by his side.

    ¡°How did I get here?¡±

    ¡°Only you can know.¡±

    ¡°How do I get out?¡±

    ¡°The same way you came.¡±

    Evken did not much like riddles, and these were not helping him.

    ¡°Where does this road lead?¡± he asked, deciding to change the topic.

    ¡°Wherever you wish it to lead,¡± came the infuriating reply.

    He stopped abruptly and waved his cane at the shapeless form.

    ¡°Could you please be more specific? Or this conversation could go on forever...¡±

    ¡°That would assume time is consequential. It is not.¡±

    With a groan, Evken decided he would go on in silence. What was the point of asking questions if all he got in return were enigmas?

    All of a sudden, he froze.

    A thought had occurred to him.

    ¡°Farewell,¡± said Fog.

    Even as the word rang in his head, the scene around him faded.

    The path, it had said, could lead wherever he wanted...

    He wanted to go home.

    As soon as that thought had formed, he had started phasing out of the Gleaming and back into Ahuaxa.

    He arrived under the rain, in a scene of carnage.

    Dead bodies lay all around him, which he identified as so many of his former Szelkin brothers.

    The three Suryi were gone.

    A human servant ran up to him and knelt before him.

    ¡°Oh great Norkh! We thought you had died too. Blessed be this day! Blessed be all the gods for granting you safe passage...¡±

    He had little patience for this kind of talk. He would have ignored the servant entirely, but he reconsidered. Pausing at the doorstep of his house, he turned back to look at him.

    ¡°What happened to the Suryi?¡±

    ¡°They were chased by another of their kind, oh great master! The one they call Xian. He came down from the sky and the others cowered in fear.¡±

    ¡°Hmm.¡±

    Evken went into his house.

    His people would never be safe with these gods roaming about the world. Now that he¡¯d seen their true nature, he understood better why Xian had put them to sleep.

    The world would not rest as long as the Suryi were awake.

    They had to be stopped.

    A part of him also hoped Xian may be a more benevolent god than his brethren and that perhaps, he at least, would have answers to his questions...

    ***

    The hanging garden was as beautiful as she remembered it. It floated above the city¡¯s busy streets, though still well below the jungle¡¯s floor. The trees here were neatly pruned, a marble-paved road winding through them. A stream carried its purplish water all the way to the edge, from where it fell into a fountain at the center of a large plaza below.

    The mansion itself was a large structure at the heart of the botanical haven. It rose at least ten feet above the ground. It was much larger than what Rakash needed, of course. He lived alone, after all¡ªif one did not count his numerous servants, which few here did¡ªbut he did enjoy visits... Though she doubted he¡¯d appreciate hers.

    He often held lavish receptions, where the upper class of Zendaar society would scramble. These could run for days, at which point his guests would be invited to stay in the many rooms of the palace.

    It would have been very rude for anyone to decline such an offer, no matter how long the reception lasted.

    Thyria walked through the empty halls, ignoring the servants who greeted her¡ªor tried to tell her that no, the master wasn¡¯t home, or that no, he couldn¡¯t receive her... They had been well trained. But she paid them no heed. Not a single word even passed her lips as she marched on.

    She found him in the library, as she knew she would. He was reading a book, his free hand busy twiddling his pendant.

    ¡°Hello, Uncle.¡±

    There once had been a time when she had called him ¡®Father,¡¯ but to do so now might have dredged up unpleasant memories, and risked angering him. So she had decided instead to use the traditional mark of respect due to an elder.

    ¡°Thyria,¡± he said as he looked up to her, his voice cold. ¡°What do you want?¡±

    She had not expected a warm welcome, but at least some measure of neutrality. She was not even granted that much. It was disappointing.

    ¡°Still you have not forgiven me?¡±

    Rakash remained silent, his eyes boring into his daughter¡¯s.

    She looked away. ¡°Xian has returned.¡±

    ¡°Do not speak his name in my presence.¡±

    ¡°You already knew!¡±

    ¡°He was just here,¡± he said with distaste.

    ¡°He would destroy all you have done!¡±

    ¡°You think I do not know that?¡±

    This was going better than she had expected.

    ¡°What are you going to do?¡±

    ¡°What would you have me do? No,¡± he added quickly with a raised hand, ¡°do not answer that. I do not care to hear your thoughts on the matter.¡±

    She would have wanted to tell him that she had never intended to hurt him. That she had been corrupted by that monster. That she regretted her actions, of failing his teachings.

    Instead, she tensed and glowered at him.

    ¡°Reading your books will help, I¡¯m sure.¡±

    ¡°It does,¡± he said coolly. ¡°They ease my mind. Without them, I might do something rash.¡±

    ¡°Perhaps you should,¡± she said defiantly. ¡°We can¡¯t let Xian¡ª¡±

    ¡°Enough!¡± roared Rakash as he slammed his book on the table next to him. He stood and walked up to her. ¡°There is no ¡®we.¡¯ As for Xian, not everything is about him. There are more important matters which require my attention.¡± He continued past her, adding coldly: ¡°And you are not one of them.¡±

    She felt like ripping someone¡¯s eyes out, but kept it bottled in as she watched him go.

 Part IV - Chapter 2

    He thought he had died, but the fact he was conscious proved otherwise... Or did it? The darkness that surrounded him was absolute.

    Maybe he was dead, after all.

    Maybe this was what death was like.

    It wasn¡¯t like he had anything to compare with.

    But then he felt the pains in his body and he knew for sure he was alive.

    He opened his eyes.

    The light blinded him, so he shut them again.

    ¡°Jack?¡±

    That voice...

    ¡°Will?¡±

    ¡°Jack! You scared the heck out of me... What happened to you?¡±

    Oddly enough, his friend¡¯s voice made him feel better and his heart stopped pounding so fast. He took a deep breath... and immediately regretted it. The pain brought tears to his eyes.

    ¡°Are you alright?¡±

    ¡°No, Will,¡± he said more harshly than he had meant, ¡°I¡¯m not alright.¡±

    There was a long silence.

    Had Will left?

    He tried to open his eyes again.

    The light was more bearable this time.

    He blinked a few times and looked around.

    Clean white walls, a window left slightly ajar to let fresh air in, a hand sanitizer near the door... in the stead of a nightstand, there was a large table with a monitor on it, a box with rubber gloves, and various other medical apparatus.

    But that characteristic smell of body odor, alcohol, and disinfectant had given away his location before he¡¯d even seen any of those common hospital items.

    Will sat on the right side of the bed, watching him with sad eyes.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± Jack managed to say between two gut-twisting coughs. ¡°It¡¯s just¡ª¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s okay. I know you¡¯re sick. Why didn¡¯t you tell us, Jack? Why didn¡¯t you tell me?¡±

    He stared at the ceiling.

    ¡°I thought I could beat this...¡±

    ¡°You will.¡±

    Jack half-laughed half-coughed. ¡°No, Will. I won¡¯t. I really won¡¯t. Haven¡¯t they told you? I¡¯m dying. There¡¯s no coming back from this.¡± His friend looked shocked. He hadn¡¯t known. ¡°Sorry,¡± muttered Jack. ¡°I shouldn¡¯t have lashed out at you.¡±

    But now it was anger that appeared on his friend¡¯s face.

    ¡°Why haven¡¯t you been in the hospital, if you¡¯re so sick? Why run away? Why waste so much time with that wretched mask? You can be such a fool sometimes!¡±

    Jack smiled a bit. ¡°I had a plan. But it didn¡¯t quite work out as I had hoped.¡±

    ¡°A plan?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re gonna think I¡¯m crazy again, but... The Zendaar wanted the mask, and I wanted the secret to their immortality. I thought they¡¯d agree to trade... It almost worked, too.¡±

    This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    Will remained quiet, unsure how to respond.

    The door opened and two men in black suits came in. They flashed badges at them.

    ¡°Inspectors Gibbs and Horton. We have a few questions for you, Mr. Arnett.¡±

    Jack cringed. ¡°Yeah, sure.¡±

    He should have guessed something like this would happen.

    ¡°We know you took the Face of Xian from the cave. Then you disappeared. Care to explain what happened, and where the mask is now?¡±

    As they spoke, Jack contemplated everything he had done... Had it all been in vain? Was he just going to give up? He had been very close. He still was! There had to be some way to reach Rakash.

    But he¡¯d never be able to if he got dragged into some heavy interrogation... He needed to buy himself time.

    ¡°I was kidnapped,¡± he improvised. ¡°I managed to escape, but they still have the mask.¡±

    ¡°Who?¡±

    He shrugged. ¡°I don¡¯t know. Whoever it was who took me. Fanatics, of course.¡±

    The two cops looked at each other. Were they buying it? It was difficult to tell.

    ¡°The boy never mentioned any of this,¡± said one of them with a frown.

    ¡°He wouldn¡¯t have known. I was delirious when he found me in the street and took me to his place.¡±

    ¡°Alright. We will need a description of anyone you¡¯ve been in contact with. And if you can recall the way you took, maybe we can retrace your steps back to the place where you were held.¡±

    ¡°Of course. I¡¯ll be glad to help in any way I can. But if you don¡¯t mind, I need to rest right now. The pain is killing me...¡±

    The two cops nodded. ¡°We¡¯ll come back later, Mr. Arnett.¡±

    Will stared at him after they¡¯d stepped out.

    ¡°You do realize they¡¯ll quickly figure out you lied to them, right? You can¡¯t make up imaginary abductors.¡±

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter. I¡¯m getting out of here.¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    He sat up in his bed. ¡°I need to find Rakash.¡±

    ¡°Who?¡±

    His friend looked confused.

    ¡°He¡¯s the only one who can save me. I can¡¯t give up. Not yet. Not when I¡¯m so close...¡±

    He tried to stand but his legs gave out. Will caught him as he fell, and helped him back to the bed.

    ¡°You¡¯re not in a state to go anywhere! Come on, buddy, be reasonable...¡±

    ¡°I have to do this, Will! I don¡¯t know how much time I have left... Everything inside me is falling apart.¡±

    ¡°And where are you going to go?¡±

    ¡°I... don¡¯t know.¡±

    ¡°What are you going to do to find this Rakash?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know!¡± said Jack irritably.

    ¡°Well if you must go, then I¡¯m going with you.¡±

    The sick man¡¯s friend grabbed him under the arm and helped him out of the room.

    ***

    He wasn¡¯t sure how he felt about it. It was a fantastical story. Though enough of it was based on known facts to trouble him.

    For instance, it was indisputable that the Zendaar lived longer lives. How long exactly was a matter of debate. He had never really looked into it closely himself. But there was definitely something there.

    That, however, did not mean they could heal diseases. How Jack could have reached such a conclusion was beyond him.

    Then again, Will had never heard of a Zendaar being sick.

    Still, there were too many unknowns to make him comfortable.

    The only thing he was sure of, though, was that his friend needed him.

    Jack tried to protest but Will ignored him, tossed his friend¡¯s arm over his own shoulder, and started toward the door.

    ¡°You wouldn¡¯t get far without help. So shut up and let me do this.¡±

    After grabbing some medicine from the table, he opened the door and peered down the hall on both sides. The cops were nowhere in sight, at least. Some people walked by¡ªincluding nurses and occasional doctors¡ªbut no one paid attention to them.

    They stepped out of the room and headed toward the elevator, working hard to look like they were not doing anything wrong.

    Spotting an empty wheelchair on the way, Will helped his friend sit down, then pushed him into the elevator before anyone could notice.

    They got through the lobby and the parking lot without attracting attention.

    Though it had stopped raining, the air was fresh and humid. The sky was still dark, and they could hear thunder in the distance.

    He helped Jack into the glider, then stepped in himself.

    ¡°Alright, let¡¯s do this.¡± He paused, thinking. ¡°We¡¯ll have to switch vehicles. They¡¯re bound to figure out I helped you. We wouldn¡¯t want them to find us through the glider. So we¡¯ll start with that.¡±

    To make it harder to track them, Will ditched the vehicle far from the destination he had in mind. They would take public transportation to get there. But first, he stopped at a credis to withdraw a large amount of credits. It would make it more difficult for the cops to see what they were doing.

    The transit dropped them three blocks away from a used glider shop. There, Will paid cash for a cheap model with a broken AI.

    All the while, Jack remained quiet, brooding.

    Once they were in the new vehicle, his friend asked: ¡°Why are you doing all this? We¡¯re wasting time!¡±

    ¡°Do you have a plan?¡± asked Will.

    ¡°No,¡± admitted Jack.

    ¡°I do. And that¡¯s why we¡¯re doing all this.¡±

    Jack blinked.

    ¡°You have a plan?¡±

    ¡°Haven¡¯t you heard?¡± smiled Will. ¡°The Zendaar use human servants.¡±

    Jack frowned. ¡°What does that have to do with anything?¡±

    ¡°You want to find Rakash? Well, all we have to do is become his servants.¡±

    It started to rain again as their glider took off.

 Part IV - Chapter 3

    Enough evidence had been found to clear her name.

    Lucaan Labs had denied any knowledge of the murders. Trent Little had been commissioned to retrieve the technology, but the contract he had signed was very clear that this was to be done in legal ways. This could have involved a forced medical¡ªor magical¡ªintervention, but most certainly not assassination.

    Despite having finally resolved the mystery of her parents¡¯ death, Susan felt miserable.

    The cost for those answers seemed much higher than she¡¯d have been willing to pay.

    Duncan, her beloved uncle Duncan, was gone.

    And now she was left all alone in the universe.

    Safe for one annoying cousin.

    Alicia had shown up at the hospital, pretending to be shaken by everything she had gone through. And how was she doing? Was everything okay?

    No, everything was not okay.

    But she had endured it.

    Now at least her name was cleared.

    They had let her go back home after stitching up the knife wound on her arm.

    She sat on her couch, staring blankly at the news on the TriVid screen.

    Nothing made much sense anymore.

    The last five years of her life had been entirely focused on finding the murderer. Now that it was done, what purpose did she have left?

    Her uncle had been right all along.

    Of course he had been.

    She had never doubted it. She just hadn¡¯t wanted to hear it.

    Now, though, she¡¯d have given anything to hear his voice again.

    The news flashing on the screen started to cover her case. But she did not want to watch that. She already knew all she needed to know. Too much, in fact. It made her sick just to think about it.

    She zapped through different programs and suddenly froze, staring at the screen.

    They were running a commercial about a multi-world corporation specialized in alien technology.

    The Moonrise Conglomerate.

    A knot formed in her stomach.

    She jumped off the couch and ran into her father¡¯s office. Pulled up the documents she¡¯d dug up on Lucaan Labs.

    There it was.

    The company was a subcontractor to several bigger businesses, including Moonrise Initiative. Which was the vuulthuric branch of the Moonrise Conglomerate.

    What were those last words her uncle had said?

    The truth lies at moonrise.

    She had thought it was just something out of one of his poems, but now she wondered... had he been referring to this company?

    This seemed significant, though she didn¡¯t understand how.

    The murderer was identified and now dead. It was all over.

    Was it, though?

    Trent Little may have done the killing, but why had he gone to such an extreme? Why not stick to the terms of his contract? Had someone set him out to murder her parents? And if so, who and why?

    The truth lies at Moonrise.

    She sat at her father¡¯s desk and brought up all the information she could about the corporation.

    A few hours later, she called up her travel agent.

    ¡°I¡¯d like to book a ticket for Qojja, please.¡±

    ***

    He had spent the entire day darting from one part of the world to another. The three runaways kept him busy.

    And though he still strived to save people, he had grown hopeless.

    He wondered what was the point of any of this... why bother stopping these disasters if, in the end, he could not save the world from destruction?

    It would not be impossible for him to find them and capture them, but then what? He couldn¡¯t hold them for long. Without the mask, he¡¯d have no way to keep them asleep, as he¡¯d had for the past five millennia.

    Another alarm blared and he flew his ship into the heart of a hurricane.

    As he tamed the winds and silenced the roar of the sea, he wondered if he could imprison the renegades in the ship long enough to take them off the planet.

    This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

    Then what?

    Where would they go?

    As soon as they¡¯d be free, they¡¯d just start again.

    If not on Qojja, somewhere else.

    They¡¯d never stop.

    For the first time in eons, he wished there was a way he could actually kill them.

    But a Rissl could not kill another Rissl.

    It was deeply rooted within their genes.

    He had come to accept this as both a blessing and a curse.

    Another option would be to take them home.

    They could be judged, there. And sentenced to life.

    But that came with its own set of problems.

    With a resigned sigh, he finished his work on the hurricane and headed back to Joqqal.

    As his ship darted through the sky, he thought of Paul.

    And Thyria.

    It was troubling.

    And yet impossible.

    How could Paul be his son?

    And yet, the man had undeniable power.

    He wondered if this could not be of use to him, in some way.

    It would be easier to capture the runaways with Paul¡¯s help, certainly, but it would not replace the mask.

    The main issue would remain.

    His thoughts kept drifting back to Thyria.

    Why would she have lied to Paul?

    It was in her nature, of course.

    She obviously wanted to hurt him.

    He had tried to help her, to make her a better person.

    It had worked, too.

    For a little while.

    But then, she had resented what she had become.

    She¡¯d blamed him for it.

    The love she had once felt for him had turned into hatred.

    Though part of her still lusted for him.

    That much was obvious from how she had behaved at their last meeting.

    Was this why she had tried to turn Paul against him?

    The alarm blared again and he changed course to stop an erupting volcano from destroying a dozen villages.

    ***

    He went to her place, but she wasn¡¯t there. He considered waiting but didn¡¯t feel he¡¯d have the patience, so he trudged his way back under heavy rain and howling winds.

    What would he have told her anyway?

    Going there had been more of an impulse, rather than a thought-out action.

    Besides, how could Paul now trust any answer she¡¯d give him?

    She was, after all, the goddess of lust, contempt, and spite. Or at least, that¡¯s what her followers believed. He still wasn¡¯t sure about the goddess part.

    One thing he would have liked her to clarify was how Xian could be his father if they¡¯d never slept together? And why would she lie to him about it? Just to hurt Xian? Didn¡¯t she care how he felt? Obviously not.

    His father was another intriguing piece of the puzzle.

    He didn¡¯t know much about him either, but he at least felt more genuine and less fickle than his mother.

    There was no doubt in his mind, he realized. Both of them were his parents. Some way or another, it had to be the case. It was the only explanation which made any sense, the only one which could explain his life, his powers¡ªnot to mention his connection to the mask...

    His heart ached as he remembered the energies that had coursed through him when he had touched the ancient artifact. So much power, now all gone. Just like that, in the blink of an eye.

    Xian had told him how it had happened, how the renegades would now be free to roam and destroy.

    Dark days lay ahead.

    He had wondered then¡ªas he did now¡ªwhether he would be able to help his father in any way.

    The thought had remained unvoiced.

    Had he found Xian intimidating? Perhaps.

    But part of him felt insecure. He knew he had power, but it seemed so insignificant compared to the Rissl.

    What could one do against gods?

    He grimaced at the thought.

    Why would he think something like that?

    He had never believed in gods, his entire life... why would it change now?

    It was just another form of power.

    Of science.

    His father had been clear about it.

    Though he wasn¡¯t sure he fully understood it quite yet.

    Aside from a spaceship, he never saw Xian using instruments or devices of any kind. He seemed to manipulate the elements directly, much like he himself would let the energies flow around him and then redirect them in whatever way he required to obtain the desired effect. It felt more like magic.

    Although he¡¯d always said his magic was a form of science. It was about understanding the world around you, the way every element in nature is connected, and using that knowledge to alter things... little things or bigger ones.

    It did feel quite similar to what his father did.

    Which made sense, if he inherited those powers from him.

    Then why wouldn¡¯t he be able to help?

    There were three runaways.

    So wouldn¡¯t two be more effective against them?

    As he walked back into his hotel room, he resolved to talk to Xian about it.

    ***

    When she came home, she found him waiting on the balcony.

    ¡°How did you find me?¡± she asked, annoyed.

    ¡°Paul,¡± said Xian.

    She snorted. ¡°Figures. So I¡¯m guessing this is about him?¡±

    ¡°Is it true, then?¡±

    ¡°That he¡¯s your son? Isn¡¯t it obvious by now?¡±

    ¡°How is it possible? We never¡ª¡±

    She sneered. ¡°You rejected me often enough, that¡¯s for sure.¡±

    Thyria stepped out of her dress, as if he wasn¡¯t there, though this time she did not try to seduce him. Why bother? She knew he would just treat her like trash again, just like he had all those other times.

    Except once.

    She savored the thought as she changed into a different dress. As she did so, she shifted little things about her. The smoothness of her skin, the girth of her arms, the length and thickness of her now brown hair...

    ¡°It was difficult to accept, you know,¡± she said softly as she walked back into the room and headed into the kitchen. ¡°Your utter lack of interest. Disgust, even.¡±

    ¡°I never¡ª¡±

    ¡°Of course, you didn¡¯t. It stung all the same. You were always so high above me, so haughty, with a higher purpose, always trying to do good in the world... As if that could change anything. You think the humans care about you or the things you do for them? They are ungrateful little worms. Believe me, I¡¯ve experienced it first hand.¡±

    She poured wine into two glasses as the color of her eyes shifted from brown to blue. The shape of her fingers altered slightly. Her global height was reduced.

    ¡°You¡¯ve always had a tendency to overreact,¡± he remarked.

    ¡°Have I?¡±

    He left the balcony. As he approached her, he frowned. Paused. Looked her up and down. Opened his mouth. Closed it. Frowned again.

    She smiled as she handed him one of the glasses. Her lips became fuller, her brows thinner.

    ¡°I know you well, Xian. Better than you might think. Well enough that I know exactly what attracts you in a woman. It obviously was not me. So I observed you. And I learned.¡±

    She sat down and crossed her legs in a way she knew would feel quite familiar to him. Just like so many other little things about her would now feel so familiar to him.

    ¡°What¡ª¡±

    ¡°You know so much about us, but do you know everything? Of course you don¡¯t. You¡¯re not a god! Not any more than any of us are, despite the delusions of some of my kin. So you couldn¡¯t possibly know everything.¡±

    The features of her face began to shift. She had saved the best part for last.

    She grinned at Xian as he gaped at her in disbelief.

    ¡°Sally!¡±

    ¡°When I understood you would never love me, that you only saw in me a wounded animal you could save, I decided to become the woman you would want, the woman you could love...

    ¡°I found her dead body in a dark alley¡ªone of my kin had drunk her to death. She looked exactly like the kind of woman you would fall for. So I took her appearance, her identity, her life... and I wrapped you around my finger. As soon as I became pregnant, and before you found out about it, I slipped away and arranged for Sally¡¯s body to be found. The police work for my people, so they did as I bid them, and altered the date of death.

    ¡°It made me deliciously happy knowing I¡¯d tricked you this way¡ªand that you¡¯d never know about your son. I thought it¡¯d be enough, but it wasn¡¯t. My victory had a bitter taste. I soon realized it would have been more satisfying had you known what I¡¯d done to you...¡±

    She paused, looked up at his shocked expression, and smiled.

    ¡°I was right,¡± she added as she sipped from her drink. ¡°Now I feel like it all was worth it.¡±

 Part IV - Chapter 4

    The rain did not bother him. Nor did the wind, or the darkness.

    Sitting on a rock, he waited in the shadows, across from the building.

    It had not been difficult to track him down. He had spies everywhere, and not just in Joqqal. And a god such as he does not exactly go unnoticed. Nor had it taken very long.

    Knowing he was in there was an odd thing. And that, soon, he¡¯d be facing him and talking with him. And maybe, finally, getting those answers he so craved.

    It was well into the night when Xian walked out. The expression on his face was difficult to read¡ªthough it certainly seemed troubled, perhaps even shocked... but how could a god be shocked? Surely, he must be misreading.

    Evken jumped to his feet and walked up to Xian.

    When he arrived near the Suryi, he fell to one knee and bowed his head.

    ¡°Lord Xian! I request an audience.¡±

    He heard the god¡¯s voice, and it was kind but also embarrassed.

    ¡°Please, don¡¯t do that. Stand. I am in a hurry, but you are welcome to walk with me... You are of the Zendaar?¡±

    He rose and leaned on his cane. ¡°My name is Evken Norkh. Few are those capable of distinguishing us from the humans. You truly are a god!¡±

    ¡°I truly am not,¡± said Xian with unease. ¡°But what was it you wished to discuss?¡±

    They walked together under the rain, and Evken felt blessed for it.

    ¡°I have been trying to understand our role in the world... what we are, where we come from... what is our purpose? Before slaughtering my brothers, the other Suryi claimed our people are flawed...¡±

    Xian glanced at him though he did not answer immediately.

    They walked through deserted streets, the ring of their footsteps echoing in the night.

    ¡°Why does it matter to you so much?¡± asked Xian. ¡°Are you not content with your life?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± admitted Evken, ¡°I cannot say that I am. I feel there must be more to life than... this.¡± He made a wide gesture, encompassing all of their surroundings.

    ¡°Qojja is not enough for you?¡± Xian sounded amused.

    ¡°It¡¯s not just that, though it is a part of it. I feel trapped. Both physically and mentally. The hold Rakash has on me only intensifies it.¡±

    The god made a face at the name.

    ¡°Why can we not leave this world?¡± Evken asked.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±

    How could a god not know the answer to such a simple question? This baffled him. He stared at Xian as they walked under the rain.

    ¡°Surely, you must have some understanding of what we are, what our purpose is?¡±

    ¡°There is only one who could answer for sure.¡±

    Evken¡¯s eyes lit up with hope. ¡°Who?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    Xian sighed. ¡°We Suryi¡ªas you like to call us¡ªare not gods, as I¡¯ve said before. We are worldbuilders. Aliens, if you would. Our people make worlds, such as this one. We have made thousands, millions, billions of them. The only one who could answer your question is the one who created the world you come from. But since no one knows where you come from, then there is no way to know who has made you.¡±

    Evken was devastated by the answer.

    He remained quiet for a long time as they walked.

    ¡°So there is nothing you can tell me?¡± he asked as despair overtook him.

    ¡°Not all worlds are created by the Rissl, nor are all creatures. But what I can tell you is that you were. That much I can read in you, just like I can read the same in the humans. Though they, too, are not from this world. You all came here, through different means, millennia ago, and colonized this empty world. There were only animals and plants here at the time.¡±

    ¡°Do you know how we came here?¡±

    Xian shook his head. ¡°I know the humans came in ships. But I do not know about the Zendaar. One day you were not here, the next you were. Though it happened shortly after the humans¡¯ arrival. If I had to guess, I would say you came from the same world.¡±

    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

    ¡°Do you know why the other Suryi killed my brothers?¡±

    ¡°They would destroy all life on this planet if they could. And the planet itself. They disapprove of the craft of our kin.¡±

    ¡°But they didn¡¯t kill any of our human servants...¡±

    Xian gave him another glance. He seemed to hesitate, as if he were looking for the right words. ¡°Only the creator can destroy his own creations. Since none of us have created this world or any of its inhabitants, we cannot destroy them directly. Were it not for this, Qojja would have been obliterated a long time ago. The only way we can affect it is by manipulating the elements.¡±

    ¡°Then why could they kill us?¡± insisted Evken.

    ¡°Because,¡± said softly Xian, ¡°there are imperfections in your people that make you vulnerable.¡±

    ¡°It is true, then, that we are flawed?¡±

    ¡°What we do is akin to art, and as such it is not impervious to mistakes...¡±

    ¡°Can we be fixed? Can we be made more like the humans?¡±

    ¡°That, too, could only be answered by your creator.¡±

    Evken fell quiet, with a sullen look on his face.

    ***

    They had rented a room in a cheap motel. Paying cash had its benefits but also some significant drawbacks¡ªlike, they were required to pay a whole week in advance.

    But, once again, his friend had surprised him by handing out the amount without an instant of hesitation.

    It had been one surprise after another ever since they had run out of the hospital.

    First, Will had helped him escape. Then, he¡¯d come up with a plan¡ªalbeit a fairly crazy one. He still wasn¡¯t sure what he thought about it.

    At least, he felt a little better now¡ªthanks to the medicine his friend had snatched from the hospital before they¡¯d rushed out.

    He stood and took a few steps around the room, trying to get his feet used to walk again.

    When Will finally returned, he was closely followed by Victor.

    The boy ran to him and hugged him.

    ¡°Wassab! I thought you were going to die!¡±

    ¡°I still might,¡± he said with a grimace, though he ruffled the boy¡¯s hair affectionately. ¡°Good to see you, kid.¡±

    It had been his idea to bring Victor here. Wanting to become servants to the Zendaar was one thing, but actually reaching out to them was another. But since the boy¡¯s father had been a fanatic, he hoped he might have connections they could use.

    After they explained their idea to the boy, Victor made a face.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know, wassab...¡±

    ¡°Oh, come now! You must know someone who works for the Zendaar!¡±

    ¡°I do, wassab, but they would not take offworlders.¡±

    ¡°How could they know if we are?¡±

    The boy grimaced.

    ¡°It is very obvious, wassab.¡±

    Jack frowned. ¡°How so?¡±

    ¡°Well... your clothes would be easy to change. But there is also your attitude and posture. That would be more difficult. And then...¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Well, you are sick, wassab. They would not hire a sick man. A sick man could not serve the gods properly.¡±

    ¡°He does have a point,¡± said Jack.

    Will grumbled. ¡°We¡¯ll just give you more pills.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s only so much we can hide...¡±

    ¡°We only need the illusion to last long enough to get in. After that, it won¡¯t matter anymore.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know, wassab,¡± repeated the boy. ¡°They could kill you if they found out you tricked them.¡±

    Jack shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m already dying, anyway. It¡¯s worth a shot. For me, at least. I should go in alone, Will. There¡¯s no point in your risking your life¡ª¡±

    ¡°No way! I¡¯m not leaving you on your own. I¡¯ll be fine. I¡¯m in good health, after all, so they¡¯d have no reason to think I tricked them.¡±

    Except that he¡¯d be with him, and this alone could get him into trouble... But he did not voice his concern, as he knew his friend well enough to know he would not change his mind. Jack was grateful, too, to have him by his side.

    He had tried to do this on his own and had failed miserably.

    Perhaps it was time for a different approach...

    ***

    The message was repeated numerous times during the journey, and again it blasted through the ship as they were about to land.

    ¡°Attention travelers!

    ¡°Traffic to and from Qojja has been postponed until further notice.

    ¡°The conditions on site have become highly unstable.

    ¡°All incoming vessels have been requisitioned by the Qojjan government to evacuate tourists and other foreigners who wish to leave.

    ¡°If you are not here on urgent business, we urge you to remain on board.

    ¡°Your return trip will be provided at no charge.¡±

    Like all previous announcements, Susan ignored this one.

    It did intrigue her, though.

    What could have gone so wrong to prompt such drastic measures?

    She would know soon enough, she realized, as the ship landed at the spaceport in Joqqal.

    When she walked out, she was assailed by the rain and the wind. For a brief moment, she wondered if there hadn¡¯t been some terrible mistake and that she had somehow been taken back to Vuulthur... But then she noticed the air did not smell of sulfur.

    She looked at the sky and frowned. It was supposed to be noon, yet the sun was nowhere in sight. The clouds were dark and ominous. Lightning flashed in the distance as thunder roared.

    All the other passengers¡ªat least those who had decided to risk staying¡ªwere running toward the shelter of the spaceport proper. She hurried after them.

    Once the administrative process was taken care of, she hailed a hovercab that dropped her off at the Syndarin. She had no reservation, but with all of the offworlders flocking out, it wasn¡¯t difficult to find a room.

    After settling in, she turned on the news and learned of all the recent disasters that had struck the planet, and that still were. It was unsettling. Not to mention the madness in the streets, with fanatics screaming for all foreigners to leave.

    All of a sudden, she did not feel so safe.

    She pushed that thought away and tapped on the TriVid screen to bring up information about the Moonrise Conglomerate.

    Going through the data, she wondered for the millionth time what she was doing here. What was she looking for, exactly? There was a connection between this company and her parents, but she had no idea what it might have been, let alone how to uncover the truth¡ªassuming there even was a truth to uncover.

    She planned to meet someone at the company, but then what? What could she possibly ask them? Lucaan Labs was one among likely hundreds of subcontractors they used. How could she expect them to have ever even heard of her parents?

    And yet... there had to be something.

    She had let the news run in the background. It now showed images of fires on the southern continent. They were spreading wide and burning down entire villages. There were talks, too, of gods walking the earth¡ªwhich she found troubling.

    With a disapproving shake of her head, she turned the volume off and initiated a holo call to Moonrise.

    When the secretary appeared on her retina, Susan politely asked for an appointment with the CEO.

 Part IV - Chapter 5

    It saddened him to see the pain in the man¡¯s eyes.

    He could have lied to the crippled Zendaar, given him hope... but what good would it have done him in the long run?

    Besides, he felt like Evken was overreacting. It really wasn¡¯t so bad.

    ¡°There can be beauty, too, in imperfections,¡± Xian pointed out as he waved around him. ¡°Without them, there would be no rain, no insects... And without the Zendaar, this world would be a very different one.¡±

    ¡°And likely the better for it... We have only brought pain to the humans.¡±

    ¡°Your people have also made important contributions to science. That is no small thing.¡±

    ¡°Perhaps. But I guess it won¡¯t matter if the Suryi kill us all...¡±

    ¡°I won¡¯t let that happen.¡±

    ¡°What will you do?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know yet.¡±

    ¡°I want to help.¡±

    Xian glanced at the man as they walked under the rain.

    ¡°That is a generous offer, but you saw what they can do to your kind...¡±

    Evken shrugged. ¡°We can hurt each other too. Besides, if they can hurt us like that... can¡¯t we hurt them back?¡±

    ¡°Sadly, no. Quite the opposite. You are even less likely to affect them than a human is.¡±

    ¡°So they are invulnerable?¡±

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t go so far. There are always ways around obstacles.¡± They had reached the edges of the city by now and went down a dirt trail that led toward the sea, where Xian had landed his ship.

    ¡°For instance,¡± he continued, ¡°the Suryi cannot kill a human directly. But if they manipulate the elements to, say, rain boulders on them, then humans would die as a consequence.¡±

    ¡°So it¡¯s a matter of finding a way to affect them indirectly...¡±

    Xian nodded. ¡°Actually, there is something the Zendaar can do that might help.¡±

    If Thyria would not assist him¡ªand she¡¯d made it clear she would not¡ªthen perhaps Evken would.

    ¡°Tell me.¡±

    Xian stopped walking when they reached the spot where his ship waited. Though, of course, no one could see it¡ªnot even the Zendaar.

    ¡°The mask they destroyed was a tool I used to keep them asleep. Now that it¡¯s destroyed, I no longer have a way to restrain them. However, your people have a power that allows you to put others in a trance. I am hoping this might work on them...¡±

    The rain had stopped by now, though they could still hear thunder roaring in the distance.

    ¡°Wouldn¡¯t our flaw make it useless?¡±

    ¡°Not necessarily. It makes you more vulnerable and less likely to hurt them, but that doesn¡¯t mean you can¡¯t do anything at all. Take me, for instance, I cannot hurt them directly either¡ªthough in my case, it is because we are of the same species, if you would. There are genetic blocks that make it impossible for us to harm one another. However, I can still affect them in other ways. If I throw an object at them¡ªor if you do¡ª, they would be struck by it...¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t understand. Doesn¡¯t that mean you could throw a knife at them? Or even shoot a phaser?¡±

    ¡°Weapons don¡¯t work on us, regardless of who is wielding them... Well, it¡¯s more complicated than that. Some weapons could work, but let¡¯s just say none of those could be found on this world.¡±

    ¡°So what would happen?¡±

    ¡°Depends. A blade would bend or break¡ªor both. A phaser¡¯s ray would be absorbed by our bodies. Old-fashioned bullets would bounce off our skin. I wouldn¡¯t recommend trying to punch one of us, as you¡¯d likely break some bones in the process.¡±

    ¡°You truly are gods,¡± said Evken in awe.

    Xian snorted. ¡°Hardly. Our bodies are just supercharged with nanobots that will deflect or absorb most types of attacks.¡±

    ¡°Could those nanobots be disabled?¡±

    ¡°Hmm. Not that I know of. Though that¡¯s an interesting idea. I¡¯ll have to look into it.¡±

    The red light on Xian¡¯s wristpad flashed. He checked it and found a message from Paul.

    ¡°Looks like my son would also like to help...¡±

    ¡°You have a son?¡±

    ¡°Long story. But if you meant what you said, then perhaps we should all meet to discuss strategy.¡±

    ¡°Absolutely.¡±

    ***

    Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    It was an odd place for a meeting.

    His father had told him to come here, outside the city, in the middle of nowhere. There were only trees here. And mud.

    A lot of mud.

    He splashed his way through, grumbling and wondering if he had made the right choice.

    Suddenly, he heard a sizzling sound and turned his head. A rectangle of light appeared in the air. It grew in size, and a shape appeared within. Then a face popped out¡ªhis father¡¯s.

    ¡°Over here, Paul!¡±

    He blinked, then headed toward what he realized now to be a door... but into what? Nothingness?

    ¡°What is this?¡± he asked.

    ¡°My ship,¡± grinned Xian. ¡°It can¡¯t be seen from the outside. Makes for perfect camouflage. Come on in.¡±

    Once he¡¯d stepped through, the landscape around disappeared, replaced by lengthy corridors and blackish walls of a substance that felt like metal but obviously was not.

    Xian led the way until they arrived in a large room with a large table. A man waited there, sitting in a chair with a cane resting on the table before him.

    ¡°Paul, meet Evken of the Zendaar. Evken, this is my son Paul.¡±

    The two nodded at each other.

    ¡°You¡¯ve both voiced your intent to help, so I¡¯m going to take you up on that. Though I¡¯ll be honest with you: I don¡¯t know if this will be enough. Our foes are powerful, dedicated to the point of obsession, and relentless.¡±

    ¡°But you have a plan?¡± asked Paul.

    ¡°I¡¯m still piecing things together, but yes.¡±

    ¡°I feel I need to point out,¡± said Evken, ¡°that my power will not hold them for millennia like your mask did.¡±

    Paul looked between the two of them, confused. ¡°Power?¡±

    ¡°The Zendaar can put people to sleep,¡± explained Xian. ¡°Or, rather, into a trance. It¡¯s a sort of paralysis. Since this power is neither based on science nor on magic, I think it is likely to work on the runaways. We can use this to hold them long enough to place them in a netherchalk cell.¡±

    ¡°A what now?¡±

    Xian pointed at the walls of the ship. ¡°It¡¯s a special substance from my homeworld. It has many different properties. One of them is that it contains the nanobots¡¯ capacities, effectively rendering us powerless. I had trapped them in such a place, in addition to putting them to sleep, but they found the way out.¡±

    ¡°Could they not find their way out from another cell?¡±

    ¡°Probably. But it¡¯d give us some respite to think and figure out a solution. In fact...¡± He glanced at Evken. ¡°While we waited for Paul to join us, I looked into your suggestion, and it does seem like there is a way to disable their nanobots. If I could do this, they would become as harmless as humans.¡±

    ¡°So wait,¡± said Paul as he stared at the netherchalk wall, ¡°does this mean you do not have any powers when you are inside your own ship?¡±

    ¡°Not at all. Each of those properties can be controlled and adjusted depending on our needs. It¡¯s like... like a recipe. Depending on how you dose the ingredients you can obtain a different dish. So to make a cell I would need to enhance a specific aspect of the netherchalk.¡±

    ¡°Well,¡± said Evken, ¡°I don¡¯t know what our odds are, but if no one has a better idea, we should try this. Where do we start?¡±

    ¡°We wait for their next move. When they hit again¡ªwhich should be soon¡ªwe go to their location. Paul and I will trap them using the elements... I¡¯m guessing you would know how to do this, Paul?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°It won¡¯t hold them long, but it doesn¡¯t matter. We just need to keep rebuilding those traps. Our goal is to buy you time, Evken, so you can do your thing. Once they¡¯re paralyzed, we¡¯ll bring them into the ship and lock them up.¡±

    They all agreed.

    And as they waited, Xian started to build the netherchalk cell.

    ***

    Despite being the largest sect on Qojja, the Sons of Kahn were also the most recluse. Few ever heard anything from them, or even knew what they were up to. They mostly kept to themselves¡ªmuch like the followers of Valerian had, though their god was of a much different nature. In fact, of all the gods who lived on this world, Kahn was the most elusive.

    None of his followers could claim to have ever seen him, aside from a handful of his highest priests. Occasionally, some believers would be picked to serve the god himself, but of these none would ever be seen or heard from again.

    They had bought new clothes, changed their hairstyle, let their beards grow... And, with the help of Victor, they had learned how to talk and behave like the locals.

    None of this would hold up against close inspection, of course. They hardly had time to get a thorough education. But it would have to do.

    The medicine could help Jack pass for healthy... at least for a few hours. He¡¯d have to keep taking those pills regularly and hope the illusion would hold long enough for them to get close to Kahn.

    But that, in itself, was beginning to seem quite the challenge.

    Kahn was not like the other gods.

    He was picky.

    They¡¯d have to show devotion. A lot of it.

    So they¡¯d joined the Sons of Kahn and had been going to every cult. They claimed to have come from Naddaq, frustrated with the lack of service to the greatest god of all gods¡ªthey had of course first researched the topic, making sure Naddaq was, indeed, bereft of a Kahn chapter.

    They had prayed, they had praised... for the most part, they had mimicked the behavior of the others while trying to amplify it. They understood that to make an impression, they would need to stand out. They could not, like they had initially planned, simply ask to be servants. At least, not without first showing true and full devotion.

    After a week of this, they approached one of the priests.

    ¡°Kahn is great!¡± said Will, ¡°and we love it here. However, we still feel unfulfilled.¡±

    ¡°Why is this?¡± asked the priest.

    ¡°We do not worship him enough,¡± protested Jack. ¡°We cannot bask in his almightiness. A god such as he deserves more than what can be done here.¡±

    ¡°What more would you do?¡±

    ¡°Anything!¡± said the two friends at the same time.

    The priest smiled. ¡°It pleases me to hear this. As it would he, the mightiest of gods, surely. You are blessed to have such faith.¡±

    ¡°We only wish to serve him,¡± said Will, trying to sound as fanatical as he could.

    Part of him was amused by the exercise. He had always found religion grating on the nerves and rather irritating. But playing one of these believers was a fun way to mock them, without them even realizing it. The more you exaggerated, the more they seemed to like it.

    ¡°One never knows what opportunities our god shall rain upon us,¡± said the priest.

    As he walked away, Jack groaned. ¡°How much longer are we gonna have to keep up with this charade?¡±

    ¡°However long it takes.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know that my body can hold that long...¡±

    Will saw his friend press a hand on his mouth and swallow hard as he stopped himself from coughing.

    ¡°It¡¯s okay if one comes out, every once in a while,¡± he said.

    The next day, two priests came to them and requested they follow them.

    They were brought into a dimly lit room and offered seats.

    Another man sat there, observing them.

    ¡°I have been told you wish to serve our god Kahn?¡±

    ¡°We do,¡± said Will.

    ¡°Very much so,¡± added Jack.

    ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°Why would we not?¡± asked Will, making himself sound offended.

    ¡°He is the greatest god!¡± claimed Jack. ¡°Does he not deserve our worship?¡±

    ¡°Indeed he does. But it is not of worship we speak here, is it?¡±

    ¡°Is serving our god not a form of worship? Is it not a more thorough form of worship? Is it not what he, the greatest of gods, deserves? Should we not serve him?¡±

    ¡°Is that not our purpose in life?¡± added Will, now sounding genuinely curious.

    ¡°Very well.¡± The man smiled as he stood and motioned for Will to follow him. ¡°Please come, brother.¡±

    ¡°What about me?¡± asked Jack with a hint of concern in his voice.

    The man looked at him. ¡°Wait here. Someone will come for you shortly.¡±

    Will threw him a look full of doubt before he exited the room, leaving Jack alone with the two silent priests.

 Part IV - Chapter 6

    This must be a test, he thought.

    So he lowered his head and pretended to pray and to not be worried.

    But deep inside, Jack wondered why they had singled him out.

    If it was a test, shouldn¡¯t they be testing Will as well?

    Maybe they were.

    Somewhere else.

    He could feel the gaze of the two silent priests on him.

    Should he talk? Should he ask something?

    What would it accomplish?

    He had been asked to wait, so he would wait.

    It would not do to disobey, or to show any form of resistance.

    If they were to be servants, they would be expected to obey.

    And so he prayed.

    Until he heard footsteps stop on the other side of the door.

    It opened, and he looked up.

    A woman walked in.

    She wore the same green tunic all the priests did. Her hair was long and dark, her eyes blue and penetrating.

    But, most of all, she was not smiling.

    ¡°Hello, Brother Jack,¡± she said.

    ¡°Hello, Sister...¡±

    ¡°Anne,¡± she provided.

    ¡°I am pleased and blessed to meet you,¡± he said with a respectful nod of his head.

    She sat quietly across from him and observed him for a moment.

    ¡°So you wish to serve Kahn?¡±

    ¡°Very much so, Sister Anne.¡±

    Another moment of silence followed. He filled it by moving his lips and looking down, as if deep in prayer.

    ¡°I have heard troubling stories, Brother Jack.¡±

    His heart beat faster, though he tried hard not to look surprised.

    ¡°What stories would these be?¡± he asked, pleased to hear no trembling in his voice.

    ¡°Some of our brothers have seen you walk with difficulty. Others have seen you double down and cringe, as if in pain. There have been a couple of times when you also seemed distracted when someone would speak to you. Not to mention a few cases of coughing. While none of these, taken separately, would be cause for alarm, taken as a whole they paint a worrisome picture.¡± She paused. ¡°Are you ill, Brother Jack?¡±

    The knot in his stomach had grown while she listed all the incidents. He swore to himself. He should have guessed something like this would happen. The longer they stayed here, the more likely it was someone would notice something.

    He made a slightly dismissive gesture.

    ¡°Nothing serious, I assure you. Nothing that would keep me from doing my duties.¡±

    The woman frowned. ¡°That, Brother Jack, is not for you to decide. What is your illness?¡±

    ¡°Nothing contagious,¡± he said with a smile.

    ¡°That is not the answer I want to hear,¡± she warned.

    ¡°It is no sickness per se,¡± he lied. ¡°I had a stomach ache the other day. I think I had eaten too fast, or perhaps too much... if not both. As for the coughing, it is from a mere cold I have been treating. It is already all but gone.¡±

    She stared at him for a long moment. Then nodded slightly.

    ¡°Very well. You are to go back to your room. We will inform you soon of our decision.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, Sister Anne. I shall pray for you and for a swift resolution.¡±

    ¡°And I for you, Brother Jack. And I for you...¡±

    ***

    It had taken longer than expected.

    There had been daily disasters, of course¡ªoften more than one on the same day¡ª, but each time they would either arrive too late, or they would only find one of the three acting alone.

    As they made desperate attempts to stall the renegades, the world descended further into chaos.

    Tourists were deported en masse. All flights to and from Qojja were canceled. Fanatics rioted in the streets. Hundreds¡ªif not thousands¡ªof people died every day, at the hands of the crazies when it was not from one of the Suryi-spawned disasters.

    The three allies grew increasingly frustrated and concerned. At this rate, would they still be able to save Qojja?

    They would soon reach a point of no return, when so much damage was done that things would just naturally continue to deteriorate without any further interference from the runaways. And they were getting dangerously close to this point.

    But what were they to do? For their plan to work, they needed all three of the renegades to be in the same place at the same time, not to mention catch them in the act.

    Though they were slowly losing hope, an opportunity finally came several days later.

    Xian¡¯s alarms blared, signaling activity at the Norkh¡¯an Dam¡ªwhich Evken found disturbing, as it had been named after him.

    When they arrived, they noticed all three Rissl were present, and hope flared in their hearts.

    ¡°This is it, guys!¡± said Xian. ¡°We might not get another chance, so let¡¯s not mess this up...¡±

    He landed the ship as close as he dared and they hurried out. Evken was to stay further behind¡ªas he was the most vulnerable¡ªand wait for the three runaways to be incapacitated before he approached to do his part.

    But as was to be expected, things did not go as planned.

    Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

    Xhoras was busy manipulating the water flow to apply more and more pressure on the dam, to the point where the structure was starting to crack.

    It was Verlhynn who first spotted Xian.

    She spun to face him and, without a word, blasted him with a gust of wind that threw him five feet into the sky.

    With quick gestures, he appeased the air around him and made it carry him back to his brethren.

    Udrak turned to face him as well. The two of them marched in his direction while Xhoras continued to work on destroying the dam.

    Paul, who had watched from some distance away, placed his hands against the earth, and the ground trembled under the Rissl. This made them fall and lose focus, allowing Xian to send a gust of wind, which threw them into the water beyond the dam.

    With a calculated gesture, Xian brought lightning down on Xhoras. The leader of the renegades screamed as the electricity burned through his body. The nanobots in him absorbed the brunt of it, but it had been enough to interrupt his work.

    A furious Xhoras turned to face Xian.

    ¡°Why do you keep getting in our way?¡± he yelled. ¡°You cannot stop the inevitable! This world will die.¡±

    He lifted a hand and a huge ball of fire appeared hovering before him, then rushed toward Paul.

    ***

    The energies flowed, burned, shifted into a spherical shape. He could see the threads that composed it, that made it whole. They spread and grew and suddenly sped in his direction.

    He felt like it was moving in slow motion... But that was an illusion.

    Paul reached out with his hand and carefully, delicately plucked out the threads that made the projectile burn. As he unwove them, the flames fizzled out. He then unraveled the elements that defined its size. By the time the ball reached him, it was cold and small as a pea. It fell to the ground before it even hit him.

    This all took only a few seconds. By the time it was over, Udrak came riding a wave. It crashed down on Xian as the other Rissl jumped and pressed him against the ground. The earth around them cracked and sagged.

    Meanwhile, Verlhynn reappeared wielding a sharp piece of coral which she threw at Paul, as if it were a spear.

    This one he did not see coming, but as it hit his back the rock shattered into a thousand pieces.

    He thought that was odd. Then again, no one had ever tried to stab him before. He hadn¡¯t even felt a thing, as if the improvised weapon had not even grazed his skin.

    From the corner of his eye, Paul saw Xian¡¯s hand press against the earth, and dirt rise into the air. It took the shape of a fist and punched Udrak, throwing him several feet away... right into Verlhynn.

    Paul was getting tired of this mess. He wanted it to end. Seeing the three runaways were now near one another, he knelt and hit the ground with all his strength.

    The earth under the Suryi opened and they all fell into the newly formed pit.

    Xian ran to the edge and frowned.

    ¡°It¡¯s too deep, Paul! I can¡¯t see them...¡±

    ¡°Sorry,¡± grimaced his son. ¡°I got carried away.¡±

    It did not last, though, as a current of hot air blew from the hole, propelling the three renegades out.

    ¡°Why are you wasting our time¡ªand yours?¡± said Xhoras, looking upset. ¡°You can¡¯t kill us, and no longer have a way to hold us. This is all pointless, and you know it! Why don¡¯t you just move to some other planet and let us be!¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t let you kill innocent people,¡± answered Xian calmly.

    ¡°Abominations! The whole lot of them. They deserve to die. And there¡¯s nothing you can do about it.¡±

    ¡°We shall see about that...¡±

    It was raining again and Paul realized the water level was rising too quickly.

    If this kept up, it would reach the top of the dam and overflow.

    ***

    Many fights had punctuated his life, and not once had he shied away... he even had a lame leg to prove it. Feeling powerless was new to him, as was hiding behind a tree. Watching his new friends fight like this made him feel like a coward.

    But he also was well aware of his vulnerability and understood how crucial his part in the plan was. They could not afford him getting obliterated the way his brothers had been¡ªnor would he wish to suffer such a horrible fate.

    There still was some concern in his mind, though.

    Would he be able to pull it off?

    Putting someone to sleep was not difficult, but he¡¯d have to affect three victims at once. Never before had he attempted such a feat.

    It was vital for this to be simultaneous, for any one of them could otherwise strike him and destroy their plan¡ªalong with his own life.

    The thought of failure left a bitter taste in his mouth and made him very uncomfortable.

    Evken tried to keep his mind off this negative perspective by focusing on the scene below.

    He watched as Xian broke free from Udrak¡¯s grip and Paul sent the Suryi deep into the ground... only to have them fly back out and throw rocks and flames and wind at the pair.

    Xian deflected all the blows, though it was clear he was starting to tire.

    Heavy rain poured again, turning the earth under them into mud.

    Then, all of a sudden, rocks flew into the air. They spun around the renegades, merged, and tightened. It all happened so fast the Suryi hadn¡¯t had time to break free.

    ¡°Now!¡± yelled Xian.

    Evken jumped from behind his hiding place and reached out with the palm of his hand.

    Under ideal circumstances¡ªwhich these were not¡ªhe would have stared into his target¡¯s eyes. But he had three of them... The distance would not help, either. So he knew he¡¯d have to be creative. He had planned it all out.

    During the fight, he had watched his three future victims very carefully, memorizing as many details about their faces as he could. Now, he visualized them, as if they were just a few feet away. And, in his mind, he merged the three faces into one and stared into the cumulative eyes.

    They stared back in surprise.

    He maintained the contact, bore deep into their souls, and by the strength of his will struck down all of their defenses, one by one. There was nothing for them to worry about anymore. They had finally succeeded in their mission. Everything was well. They could rest now. They deserved it. It had been such exhausting work. It was only fair for them to sleep, now, was it not?

    Their eyes closed as they fell into a deep trance.

    ¡°You did it!¡± said Paul joyfully.

    Xian let himself fall to the muddy ground and leaned against a rock with a heavy sigh.

    Despite the horrid weather, they had prevailed, and relief was in their hearts.

    ¡°What next?¡± asked Evken.

    ¡°How do we get them into the cell?¡± asked Paul.

    ¡°I¡¯ll move the rocks,¡± said Xian. ¡°It¡¯ll move them with.¡±

    While they talked, they did not see when Xhoras began to twitch.

    Nor did they see when his eyes popped open.

    ***

    She¡¯d had to wait over a week before she finally could meet with Simon Goodrich, the CEO of Moonrise. She¡¯d been told he was a very busy man these days, despite world events¡ªor perhaps because of them.

    There had been so much hype about this world in the last few years that she had been looking forward to exploring Joqqal... but she was too afraid to leave her room. She¡¯d had all her meals brought up to her and paced back and forth all day, watching the news on the TriVid screen.

    Susan had not seen the sun once since her arrival on Qojja... and between the madmen marching in the streets and the constant storms, the city felt like a powder keg just waiting to explode.

    When the day of her appointment finally came, she dared to leave her room, took a hovercab, and had it drop her off at the Moonrise headquarters.

    The ride itself was strenuous and stressful as the streets were teeming with angry crowds. And though they flew above, it made her nervous to watch them.

    As soon as they landed, she hurried into the building. An employee welcomed her and guided her to the elevator, and then to Goodrich¡¯s office.

    The man at the desk looked up when she entered.

    The smile froze on his face when he saw her... though it only lasted an instant. It was so brief she thought maybe she had imagined it.

    He stood and bowed his head slightly, gesturing to the chair across from him.

    ¡°Miss Caine? It is so nice to meet you! So, so nice... Please, have a seat. How can I help you?¡±

    ¡°I am trying to understand the relationship between your company and Lucaan Labs on Vuulthur.¡±

    ¡°I was not informed you were a journalist...¡±

    ¡°Oh, not at all! It is a personal matter. My father, you see, had volunteered to be a test subject for Lucaan Labs.¡±

    ¡°In that case,¡± smiled Goodrich, ¡°Moonrise cannot be held responsible for anything that might have happened to your father.¡±

    ¡°I am well aware of this¡ª¡±

    ¡°Then I fail to see why you have come to me?¡±

    ¡°As I said, I¡¯m trying to understand how Lucaan Labs is connected to Moonrise.¡±

    Goodrich pursed his lips. ¡°They¡¯re merely a subcontractor. We use thousands of them, on just as many worlds...¡±

    ¡°And yet,¡± pointed out Susan, ¡°you didn¡¯t need to look them up. You knew exactly who they were. They must have some significance, then?¡±

    The CEO smiled. ¡°Well, there is some truth to that. Very well, since you are curious, and seem like a decent person, I will introduce you to someone who knows more about this matter.¡±

    ¡°I would appreciate that, thank you,¡± she said, though she was a bit surprised by the turn of events. ¡°When can I meet this person? I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll understand if I¡¯m not too comfortable with the thought of staying on this planet longer than is absolutely necessary...¡±

    ¡°No problem at all. You can meet him right now. If you would follow me?¡±

    The man stood, still smiling, and motioned toward the door.

    ¡°Oh. Alright. Good.¡±

    Susan stood as well and fell in step behind Goodrich.

    They went down two halls, then stopped before another door. The man opened it and motioned for her to go through.

    ¡°Please, Miss Caine. My colleague will be quite happy to answer all of your questions.¡±

    Susan smiled back as she stepped in.

    ¡°Thank you.¡± She froze when she realized she had entered an empty room. ¡°What¡ª?¡±

    Something cold and metallic was pressed against the back of her neck.

    Before she could make another move or say another word, she crumbled to the ground and blacked out.

 Part IV - Chapter 7

    He lived with them, he ate with them, he slept with them... It had become his new life and it frightened him.

    Anything could go wrong at any moment.

    And the longer this dragged on, the more likely something would go wrong.

    But there was nothing he could do but wait.

    Jack sat at the refectory, finishing dinner. He tried to keep as blank an expression as he could, but inside he was boiling. From his sickness, but also from anxiety.

    As he set down his fork and stood, he noticed someone was staring at him. He looked up and froze.

    It was Asanroh.

    Victor¡¯s father.

    The man who had abducted him.

    A small smile crept on the fanatic¡¯s lips as they stared at each other.

    ¡°This man is a fake!¡± he yelled.

    Heads turned. Frowns appeared.

    ¡°Not at all,¡± said Jack defensively.

    ¡°He is an offworlder! An impious!¡±

    Many now gathered around him.

    He recognized the faces of some he had talked to in the last few days, and he took them as witnesses.

    ¡°Have I not shown how devout I am? Blessed be Kahn!¡±

    Many nodded, agreeing he had indeed.

    ¡°Are you not Jack Arnett, then? Are you not a foreigner?¡± asked Asanroh, spitting that last word as if it were an insult.

    ¡°I am,¡± admitted Jack¡ªthere was no more point in hiding it. ¡°But I have seen the light. Is faith not more important than origin?¡±

    The believers muttered between them, as they tried to decide what to make of all this¡ªnothing like it had ever happened before. Could an offworlder become one of them?

    ¡°I truly wish to serve our god¡ª¡±

    ¡°Why?¡± asked a voice in the crowd.

    ¡°What made you see the light?¡± asked another.

    ¡°I was a historian in my previous life,¡± he answered. ¡°Through my work, I came to study the Face of Xian.¡± Whispers spread through the crowd. ¡°Being in such proximity to this most blessed of artifacts bathed me in the glory of the gods.¡±

    ¡°What have you done with it?¡± asked Asanroh, his voice dripping with venom. He wasn¡¯t buying it.

    ¡°I gave it to a god,¡± said Jack, realizing for once he could say the truth. ¡°I gave it to Norkh himself.¡±

    ¡°You lie!¡±

    ¡°I do not,¡± he said calmly. The pains inside him made him wince, but he continued: ¡°It was he who spoke to me of Kahn. It was through him I finally understood my calling.¡±

    He noticed the priestess he had last spoken to was standing nearby, listening. She did not smile¡ªthough he thought perhaps she knew not how to.

    ¡°I should kill you right now,¡± said Asanroh as he grabbed a knife from a table and took a few steps toward Jack.

    Some of the others blocked him.

    ¡°No,¡± said the woman. ¡°That is not for us to decide. If what he says is true, then he should live. If he has lied, the gods will know. Let them be the judge. Send him to the erkins!¡±

    ***

    Everything had happened so quickly¡ªtoo quickly for him to realize what was going on.

    The rock-made bonds had blown to pieces and the three renegades had flown free.

    Xian had been the quickest to react, but even he hadn¡¯t been fast enough to avoid the tree trunk Udrak had hurled at him. It hadn¡¯t hurt him, but he¡¯d been thrown several feet away while Xhoras lunged at Paul and Verlhynn turned her wicked grin on the limping Zendaar.

    Evken was in shock.

    He had failed!

    All their hard work, all their planning had been in vain.

    Unless he could put them to sleep again... but if they¡¯d broken free once, how could he expect to ever hold them?

    He suddenly realized what was happening when the female Suryi reached out. He jumped back and held out his cane.

    ¡°Do not touch me!¡±

    She laughed. ¡°Am I supposed to be scared? Oooohh... No! Please don¡¯t hurt me!¡± She continued to walk toward him.

    What was he supposed to do against a god?

    How could he fight her?

    He was doomed to die the same horrendous death as his brethren.

    For each step back he took, she¡¯d take two steps forward. She was catching up fast.

    A glance over his shoulder told him he had almost reached the dam.

    The water level was still rising.

    Would it be safe to jump? he asked himself.

    He decided possible death was preferable to certain death.

    But before he took that final step and plunged over the edge, a boulder hit Verlhynn and sent her crashing against a tree.

    Evken realized Paul had taken time to help him just before fending off an attack from Xhoras.

    Leaning on his cane, breathing heavily, he panicked.

    What was he doing?

    He couldn¡¯t stay here.

    There was absolutely nothing he could do.

    If he stayed, he¡¯d surely die.

    But where could he go?

    He started to run¡ªas fast as his limp allowed, which wasn¡¯t very fast¡ªtoward the invisible ship. It was more of an instinctive move as he wasn¡¯t sure how he¡¯d get in, but it was the closest thing to safety he could think of.

    The fear in his heart grew as he realized not only would he not know how to get in, but he could not remember where it was exactly. Somewhere behind that tree, where he had hidden earlier, but...

    He heard her coming before he felt her.

    You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

    It was a sound in the air, like the ruffling of feathers, or a breeze of fresh air against the back of his neck.

    Then he felt himself pushed down, and his face hit the ground hard.

    Verlhynn pressed her hand against his skull, and he felt a piercing pain go through his body.

    He could literally feel his life being sucked out of him.

    ¡°No!¡± he yelled.

    The Suryi woman laughed.

    He didn¡¯t want to die.

    Not like this.

    Not now.

    Not before he had the answers he¡¯d sought all his life...

    Oh, how he wished he was somewhere else...

    The pain suddenly vanished.

    He gasped and got up on his knees.

    Looked around.

    He was back in the Gleaming.

    ***

    Relief was in his heart. They had succeeded! The renegades were asleep and everything was under control...

    But the relief had been short-lived.

    When the rock-made bonds had blown to pieces, Paul had been the first hit as he was the closest to the prisoners.

    Xhoras lunged at him head-on and pummeled him into the mud.

    Paul didn¡¯t even feel the hits.

    He rolled over and pushed Xhoras off of him.

    Jumping to his feet, he willed the mud under the Suryi¡¯s feet to form walls around him.

    Xhoras tore them down and walked calmly toward him.

    ¡°Nice try, Paul.¡±

    ¡°You know my name?¡±

    Paul was startled by this unexpected turn of events.

    His assailant reached out and sent rocks speeding toward him. They shifted and merged into a spear-shaped weapon, but it shattered when it hit his chest.

    All this felt so useless.

    He understood the importance of stopping these renegades... but how were they supposed to achieve that?

    ¡°Do I know your name?¡± Xhoras laughed. ¡°Of course, I know your name! After all, you wouldn¡¯t be born if it weren¡¯t for me.¡±

    Wondering what that was supposed to mean, Paul made the shards spin and shift and merge back into another stony spear which he hurled back at the renegades¡¯ leader. The latter waved his hand just before it reached him and it likewise shattered.

    ¡°You wouldn¡¯t have met Will and Jack if it weren¡¯t for me.¡±

    Xhoras made flames appear around Paul. He could feel their heat¡ªit was so intense the mud under his feet started to boil. But he barely felt it. He stomped on the flames to put them out.

    Though Paul was confused by everything the Rissl was saying, it took all his focus to keep up with the attacks.

    With a Gesture, he set the Suryi on fire. But Xhoras put the flames out with a dismissive gesture.

    From the corner of his eye, Paul noticed Verlhynn had cornered Evken by the edge of the dam and was about to kill him.

    ¡°You wouldn¡¯t have come to Qojja if it weren¡¯t for me.¡±

    He flung a nearby boulder at her but did not wait to see if it hit its mark as Xhoras was already firing another attack at him.

    It came in the form of a sudden deluge of icy cold water.

    He was drenched and miserable.

    But at the same time, it felt like such a useless and weak attack...

    ¡°You wouldn¡¯t have met your mother or your father if it weren¡¯t for me.¡±

    He was tempted to, once again, pay the Rissl back in kind.

    But before he could attempt anything, he was hit by contrary winds... those at his back pushed him forward, while those at the front pushed him backward, and those at his sides pushed toward the other side... so that, in effect, he found himself incapable of moving.

    He realized the combination of the winds and the cold water had turned his skin to ice.

    It would have been easy to break off any of these attacks... but it would have required Gestures he could no longer make.

    Xhoras walked up to him, with a large smile on his face.

    ¡°If anything, you should be grateful for the gifts I have given you. Are you grateful, Paul?¡±

    He felt himself lifted from the ground. The winds kept him prisoner while carrying him off. The Rissl flew with him, away from the scene of the fight.

    All the while, Xhoras grinned at him.

    ***

    He was so tired he did not even feel the rain anymore. It was like a second skin to him now. As was the mud under his feet.

    His eyes closed, just for a second. He needed to take a moment to enjoy the peace and quiet.

    Of course, they couldn¡¯t wait too long.

    They should get the prisoners into the cell as quickly as possible.

    There was no telling how long the trance would hold.

    A little voice inside his head nagged at him, warning that something wasn¡¯t quite right.

    He opened his eyes and looked at the prisoners... just as the rock-made bonds blew to pieces.

    Xian jumped to the side, but he was not quick enough. Before they¡¯d even broken free, Udrak had started to uproot a nearby tree with his mind which he now hurled toward him.

    The trunk hit him with full force, sending him sprawling through the mud several feet away.

    He cursed as he threw the tree off of him and rose to his feet. His hand shot up and caught Udrak by the neck just as the mad Rissl reached him with a smirk of hate on his face.

    ¡°Oh no, you don¡¯t!¡± he said as he projected the both of them into the air and started punching the renegade repeatedly in the nose.

    It wouldn¡¯t hurt him, he knew, but it still felt good nonetheless.

    Udrak got tired of the blows and grabbed Xian¡¯s fist before it hit him for the nth time and twisted it in his hand.

    They were still high in the air, with rain beating against their skins, and the winds carrying them.

    Udrak commanded them to change direction and they suddenly plunged into the water beyond the dam.

    Down they went... down, down, down... until they reached the bottom.

    And still, they fought.

    Punch for punch, kick for kick, bite for bite...

    None of it mattered.

    Neither one could hurt the other.

    But both found pleasure in the confrontation.

    They tried to strangle each other, knowing full well they could not. They tried to stab each other as well, crush, blow, burn... knowing none of those would work either.

    Finally, Xian stomped his foot against the ground, and a geyser of boiling mud propelled them back out.

    The shock of their landing made them fall apart.

    As Xian jumped back to his feet, he noticed Evken running away toward the location of his ship... but Verlhynn sped toward him, arm stretched, ready to strike.

    He lifted his hand to intervene, but Udrak jumped on his back and pushed him to the ground just as the woman reached her prey. They, too, fell. He heard Evken¡¯s scream, then saw him disappear just as he threw Udrak off of him.

    ¡°You¡¯re starting to bore me,¡± he said.

    ¡°The feeling is mutual.¡±

    Xian groaned as he plunged into the other¡¯s stomach head first.

    They fell again and rolled in the mud, kicking and punching each other some more.

    What were they doing? With Evken gone¡ªwho knows where?¡ªthis fight made no more sense.

    It was time to break off and head out.

    He pushed Udrak away and glanced around looking for Paul.

    It took him a moment to notice his son was in the air, bound by winds, with Xhoras pulling him away.

    ¡°Oh hell no!¡±

    Xian ran in their direction. He willed winds to form under his feet and to carry him up...

    A lightning bolt came down from the sky and struck him.

    He fell back to the ground, dazed.

    Shaking his head, he propped himself up on his shoulders and saw Udrak walk calmly toward him with a grin on his face.

    The Rissl held out his hand toward the sky.

    Xian looked up.

    A dozen more lightning bolts were rushing toward him.

    ¡°Oh crap...¡±

    They all struck him simultaneously.

    ***

    She woke up feeling dizzy. Her mind was blurry and it took a moment before she remembered what had happened.

    Looking around, she saw she was lying in a luxurious bed in a luxurious room.

    Susan sat up and blinked.

    The walls were blue and gold, with paintings hanging on every surface. The floor was carpeted. A desk sat against the far wall, with two finely crafted wooden chairs that looked fairly ancient, though in perfect state.

    There were two windows and a door, too.

    She got out of the bed and walked to the door.

    Tried to open it.

    It was locked.

    She frowned.

    Banged on the door.

    Silence.

    What was going on?

    Where was she?

    She went to each window and looked outside.

    The view was of a beautiful garden. As far as her eye could see, there were trees, flowers, fountains, statues...

    She heard footsteps, then the sound of the door being unlocked, and opened.

    A woman walked in, smiling. She held a tray of food that she placed on the desk.

    Eyeing the door, she noticed two guards standing outside.

    ¡°Where am I?¡± she asked.

    The woman turned to face her, still smiling. ¡°There are vegetables and fruits. I did not know if you would prefer water or wine, so I brought both.¡±

    ¡°Where am I?¡± she asked again, slightly annoyed.

    ¡°The master will be here shortly,¡± said the woman as she walked out. Before closing the door, she added: ¡°You should eat before he comes.¡±

    Susan stared at the door as it closed.

    What did all this mean?

    It seemed like she had been abducted... but why?

    If she¡¯d uncovered some secret¡ªshe had no idea what¡ªwhy hadn¡¯t they killed her? Why bother bringing her here¡ªwherever ¡®here¡¯ was?

    None of this made any sense.

    She was hungry, though.

    With a sigh of resignation, she sat at the desk and dug through the food.

    It was good, at least.

    As she ate, she went through all the information she had collected but kept coming back to the same conclusion: she did not know more now than she had when she¡¯d arrived on Qojja... was she even still on Qojja?

    If she¡¯d discovered something, they¡ªwhoever ¡®they¡¯ were¡ªwere the only ones to know what.

    They... Moonrise, of course.

    That was the only thing she could be certain of.

    After all, it was Goodrich¡ªthe CEO of Moonrise¡ªwho had knocked her out. And now she was his prisoner.

    The company was obviously linked to Lucaan Labs, though she still didn¡¯t understand how exactly¡ªlet alone how it all connected back to her parents.

    And how the heck had her uncle even known about the connection?

    That too, she realized, had been troubling her.

    Those words he had said, with his dying breath, hinted at knowledge he shouldn¡¯t have had, knowledge he had never shared with her... he had known something about her parents that she hadn¡¯t. How was this possible, and why hadn¡¯t he come clean earlier?

    And who was ¡°the master,¡± by the way? Goodrich?

    She frowned.

    Still too many questions and too few answers.

    She did not like it, not one bit.

    When she was done with the food, she went back to the window.

    Occasionally, she would see people walk through the garden.

    They all wore the same gray uniform as the woman who had brought the tray. Servants, she assumed. All held their heads low as they moved about.

    Except for one who looked up as he walked by... Their eyes met and there was a tingle of familiarity, but her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps.

    Susan spun to face the door as it opened.

    A tall man wearing white clothes stepped in.

    His hair was white, too.

    As were his eyes.

    He looked her up and down and smiled.

    ¡°Hello, Julia.¡±

 Part IV - Chapter 8

    They had locked him up in his room. Just like a prisoner.

    Would there be a trial, too?

    Or would they just kill him?

    The gods would decide, so they said.

    It did not make him feel any better. Not by a long shot.

    They were not taking any chances with him.

    As if he could have been dangerous.

    Jack had lived with them for days now.

    What were they so afraid of?

    If he hadn¡¯t done them harm before, why would he now¡ªlet alone how?

    But you could not expect reasonable or logical thinking from fanatics.

    He was pacing back and forth when a coughing bout took him by surprise. The aches had also started spreading again.

    With a grimace, he sat on his bed and grabbed his last bottle of medicine from the nightstand. He popped two pills into his mouth. At least, they hadn¡¯t taken those away. Though there weren¡¯t many left. Nor were they as effective as they once had been.

    It felt as if his sickness had found a workaround to counteract the benefits of the medication.

    ¡°I can¡¯t take this anymore,¡± he whined.

    He¡¯d been stuck in this small room for three hours now.

    How much longer would he have to wait?

    As if on cue, he heard footsteps stop at his door. It was unlocked and swung open.

    The never smiling priestess¡ªSister Anne, he remembered¡ªmotioned for him to stand.

    ¡°Follow me, Brother Jack.¡±

    ¡°Where to?¡±

    She stepped back and gestured again.

    With a sigh, he stood, slid the medicine bottle into his pocket, and walked into the hall.

    She took him to the storeroom in the back where four men waited next to a glider. One of them approached with a blindfold.

    ¡°What is this?¡± he asked with a backward movement.

    ¡°Do not make us use force,¡± warned Anne.

    ¡°Why are you doing this to me? Have I not said I would gladly see the gods?¡±

    Despite his words, he did not resist when they placed the blindfold around his eyes.

    ¡°The gods do not wish us mere mortals to know all their secrets,¡± she stated blankly. ¡°You should consider yourself blessed for the wonders you shall soon behold. Few have been granted such privilege.¡±

    He sensed a hint of envy in her voice, and idly wondered if that might have made her smile.

    After being helped into the glider, he felt the vehicle move, pick up speed, then soar.

    ¡°Where are we going?¡± he tried again.

    But no one answered.

    It was a short trip¡ªthough that did not mean much, as distance was relative when you could not tell how high or how fast you flew.

    When the glider landed, he was helped out, then pushed down an alley, up stairs, and through a door.

    Still, they kept him in darkness.

    It was not total darkness, though. Light could pass through the tissue and from the variations in brightness he could tell they had now stepped behind closed doors.

    There were many footsteps around him, and multiple voices, though he could not make out specific conversations.

    It was clear however that they were in a crowded place¡ªwith a crowd that did not care, or was not surprised, to see a blindfolded man brought in their midst.

    Likely more fanatics, he figured grudgingly.

    Both his arms were firmly held as he was led through various halls and doors.

    Finally, they stopped.

    He expected the blindfold to be removed, but still it remained.

    A buzzing sound teased his ears and a scent of fresh air tickled his nostrils.

    His arms were freed and someone pushed against his back.

    He took a step forward.

    It felt like his entire body stepped through a pool of mud.

    He tried to stop, to pull back, but he noticed he could not.

    There was a force here that sucked him in.

    He held his breath, fearing he might choke.

    And then, suddenly, the pressure eased.

    Everything felt normal again.

    Except the lighting was different.

    Someone pulled the blindfold off and he blinked.

    Though the sky here was just as dark and ominous as it had been in Joqqal, the structures around him were of a very different nature.

    All the walls he saw, everywhere around him, were made of shiny glass, gold, or precious stones.

    Buildings rose high into the air.

    The streets, clean and shiny, were busy with activity¡ªproud-looking men and women going about their business, gliders flying in every direction...

    A dozen people were gathered here, all staring at him.

    He glanced over his shoulder and saw a large rectangle with flashing lights.

    Jack turned to look at the strangers again¡ªhe did not recognize a single face.

    ¡°What is this place?¡±

    ¡°Welcome to Ahuaxa,¡± said a woman, ¡°the city of the gods.¡±

    ***

    There was darkness here, too, but it was of a different nature.

    It belonged.

    It felt right. Comfortable. Almost peaceful.

    He rose to his feet and considered the misty quality of the air.

    It was fresh and he liked it.

    The path he was on wound its way further toward the base of a distant mountain.

    He turned and, in the opposite direction, saw the silhouette of a castle.

    On each side of him were thick bushes and trees.

    What struck him most, though¡ªwhich he had failed to notice the first time¡ª, was the silence.

    Evken did not mind it.

    It was not the kind of silence that comes from fear.

    Nor was it the kind of silence that comes before a storm.

    Or that of death creeping through the lands.

    No, this was a more subtle type of silence¡ªone borne on stillness and quietude.

    It, too, belonged.

    His thoughts drifted back to his friends.

    There was danger where they were, he knew, but he couldn¡¯t stay here, no matter how much he wanted to. Not yet.

    His friends needed him.

    If they were to stop the mad gods, they would need his help.

    Reluctantly, he wished himself back.

    And just like that, he was at the dam again, under a thunderous sky, and pummeling rain.

    He looked around, but they were all gone.

    Almost all.

    Someone lay on the ground, unmoving.

    He rushed to the man¡¯s side and turned him over.

    It was Xian!

    He shook him until the god¡¯s eyes fluttered open.

    ¡°Evken...¡±

    The Rissl propped himself up on his shoulders. Rubbed his forehead.

    ¡°They took my son!¡± he suddenly said, jumping to his feet.

    ¡°Where did they go?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± admitted Xian with a frown. He looked at the Zendaar leaning on his cane. ¡°Did I not see you disappear? How did you do that?¡±

    Evken grimaced. ¡°I¡¯m still not entirely sure. It¡¯s only the second time I¡¯ve managed to do it. What I do know is that it took me to the Gleaming.¡±

    A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    ¡°The Gleaming? What is that?¡±

    Xian walked to the edge of the dam. The waters were still rising and would soon overflow if nothing was done. He knelt and placed his hand above the surface of the water. It began to boil, to evaporate, and its surge stopped.

    ¡°I... don¡¯t know. A mythical place of my people. Our books state we came to this world through the Gleaming. I never understood what it meant. Not sure I do even now.¡±

    ¡°Can you show me?¡± asked Xian as he finished his work on the dam and stood to face him.

    The Zendaar thought about this for a moment. Now that he had gone back and forth twice, he believed he had a better understanding of how it worked. He was fairly certain he could pull it off again... but could he take someone with him?

    ¡°Maybe.¡±

    He held out a hand to grab the Rissl¡¯s shoulder.

    ¡°Hold on,¡± said Xian as his eyes glazed. ¡°I... I think Paul is trying to contact me.¡±

    ***

    They had taken him down into the depths of the earth. Where exactly, he did not know. They kept him in a dark cave with no door. For what use would a door have had?

    Despite their underground location, the contrary winds had not relented. Still they held him prisoner, incapable of making a single move.

    He could talk, and there were spells he could have uttered¡ªbut none that could have freed him.

    ¡°Why did you bring me here?¡±

    Xhoras stood there, smirking.

    ¡°Because I can¡¯t kill you, Paul. Despite your Zendaar blood, you are one of us. But without you, there¡¯s little your precious father could do against us.¡±

    ¡°He still has Evken...¡±

    The Rissl snorted. ¡°That Zendaar cripple? Please. He is useless.¡±

    ¡°How do you know so much about me? I don¡¯t understand all those things you said earlier.¡±

    ¡°No, I don¡¯t imagine you do.¡± Xhoras paced before him, a thoughtful expression on his face. ¡°Do you know what it¡¯s like to be a prisoner for millennia? Awake, but unable to move?¡±

    Paul did not, but feared he might soon. He knew these mad Rissl could not hurt him, but he was concerned he¡¯d be immobilized here for all of eternity. Would this be their way of getting back at Xian for what he¡¯d done to them?

    ¡°Under such circumstances,¡± went on Xhoras, ¡°one must occupy time as one can. And so we used dreamskins to escape our captivity. Dreamskins are very limited in what they can do, sadly, but at least we could talk, we could touch, we could manipulate.¡± He glanced at his prisoner with a slight smile. ¡°We arranged for certain things to happen, you see. You would be surprised how much can be achieved in five thousand years. Our goal always was to free ourselves. But the only way to pull it off was to get rid of that damnable mask. We first arranged for it to be discovered by the humans.¡±

    Paul was starting to see where this was headed and it made his head spin. Could the renegade be telling the truth?

    ¡°That part was easy,¡± added Xhoras. ¡°We could sense where it was, so we only needed to point archaeologists in the right direction. But we also knew no human would ever be able to remove the mask. That¡¯s why we needed you. The closest thing to a clueless Rissl we could hope for.¡±

    Who was the madman calling clueless? That made Paul¡¯s blood boil. But the contrary winds bound him as tightly as ropes would have.

    ¡°But that was not enough, of course. You would never have thought of going to the mask if someone hadn¡¯t piqued your curiosity and prompted you to do so.¡±

    ¡°Jack!¡±

    ¡°Yes. Indeed. Jack. He caught a most unfortunate illness. A rather unique virus that Verlhynn herself engineered. She¡¯s very good at that game¡ª¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s my friend¡¯s life you¡¯re talking about, you creep! That¡¯s no game!¡±

    ¡°Oh, but it is. You carefully place all the pawns right where you need them, and then you make your final move. Checkmate!¡± Xhoras laughed.

    Paul grunted. ¡°How did you know Jack wouldn¡¯t just kill himself?¡±

    ¡°Because he¡¯s too passionate about his work. Because there are too many mysteries on Qojja he dreams of piercing. Including the mask itself. It haunted him. Even before he knew he was sick. We made sure he heard the Zendaar held the secret of eternal life and had some interest in the mask themselves. When the doctors told him his organs were failing and would eventually shut down, one after the other, it wasn¡¯t difficult for him to think of a solution. But enough talk! I have work to do.¡±

    The renegade walked toward a wall, then paused and looked back at his prisoner.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, it won¡¯t take much longer. This world will soon be destroyed, and your plight shall end with it.¡±

    His laughter resonated in the stone chamber even after he¡¯d disappeared.

    Paul could not even move his head, so strong were the winds against his face. They blew loud through his ears, and that too was distressing.

    He just wanted it all to stop.

    But to make it stop, he would need to make a Gesture. Even a small one would help. But he could not.

    The energies were there, flowing all around him, so close and yet out of reach, taunting him...

    There had to be something he could do.

    He had no notion of time, here, so deep under the earth, and away from the sky. Who knew how many hours had passed? But finally, he remembered.

    When the mask had exploded, it had released its power into the world. He had felt it. He had embraced it. He had moved within its spreading threads. There had been no need to move or talk... And his father had sensed him. And his father had come to him.

    He knew the Suryi would also feel it, but it was his only hope.

    So he reached out with his mind. Groped around. Felt the shapes, sensed the colors, until he found the fading traces he sought.

    He pulled on the threads, gave them texture again, gave them girth, then strode upon them.

    Paul wondered if he could make his presence known without being noticed by his jailers.

    Lights glided and swirled around him.

    He recognized the glowing hue of his father as soon as he saw it.

    It became brighter as it noticed him.

    But, at the same time, three other lights flickered nearby.

    ***

    The shock had left her speechless.

    Not that it was an unusual name. There were thousands, millions, possibly billions of women who wore that same name. She had heard it many times.

    But never had it been directed at her. And definitely not by him.

    At least... not in a very, very long time.

    Susan stared at the white-haired man.

    ¡°Rakash?¡±

    Her voice was hesitant, though the strange name rolled off her tongue with ease. There was confusion in her mind. How could she know this man who she had never seen before? Yet at the same time, she did know him. This knowledge surprised her, while another part of her was surprised it would surprise her.

    How could she not know him, after all he had meant to her?

    Rakash offered her a benevolent smile.

    ¡°You are confused. It is only natural. Do not fight it. Things will become clearer if you let the memories take over.¡±

    She walked slowly to the bed and let herself fall upon it, feeling dizzy.

    ¡°What is happening to me?¡± she muttered.

    Rakash remained where he was, observing her with interest. A hand moved up to the pendant he wore around his neck. He tapped on it a couple of times.

    ¡°I saved you, of course. How could I not?¡±

    She looked up at him with a confused expression.

    ¡°You saved me? No.¡± She frowned. ¡°That¡¯s... that¡¯s not right.¡±

    The memories were coming back, but it was a slow and blurry process.

    ¡°You killed me over five thousand years ago... how is this possible?¡± she said, with a quiver in her voice.

    ¡°Five thousand four hundred and ninety-three... but who¡¯s counting?¡±

    Conflicting thoughts raced through her mind. She knew Rakash had killed her, and yet she felt sympathy for him¡ªeven love, in a way. But if he had killed her, why did he claim to have saved her? And, more importantly, why did she feel like this was quite likely?

    ¡°Do you remember what your last words to me were?¡± he asked softly.

    ¡°Yes,¡± she said breathlessly as they came back to her. ¡°I begged you to end my suffering...¡± She jumped to her feet and pointed an accusing finger at him. ¡°Why am I still alive?¡±

    ¡°The virus that was in you had no cure at the time. But I could not let you die forever. So as I slit your throat and watched the life drain out of you, I recorded an imprint of you, my dear Julia. All of you.¡± He tapped the pendant again. ¡°It was all stored here. Your DNA, your personality, your memories... All of it.¡±

    ¡°And my illness, too,¡± she said accusingly.

    ¡°It could not be avoided, I¡¯m afraid. Which is why it took so long to bring you back. But I did find the cure, eventually. Why do you think I¡¯ve been so obsessed with alien technology?¡±

    Not that she had known, but it reminded her of the things she had discovered about Lucaan Labs.

    ¡°Moonrise,¡± she said, ¡°that was you?¡±

    He nodded. ¡°I¡¯ve used it to go beyond this cursed world, to attain other planets that are otherwise out of my reach. And through them, I have collected artifacts, science, knowledge... And when I finally found the cure, I looked for the perfect vessel. This, too, required patience. But I had no lack of time.¡±

    Her memories became clearer, though there still were large dark gaps. She felt she could have lost herself had she tried to penetrate them.

    She shook her head, trying to make sense of it all.

    ¡°How¡ª¡±

    ¡°I had agents on every new colony,¡± said Rakash, ¡°scanning for the perfect genes. It was a good cover, too. Who would question medical examinations in a new settlement? One day Wilma Caine was brought to my attention. The lovely Wilma. She met all of my criteria. I had your matrix injected into her.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s how she got her curse!¡± realized Susan.

    ¡°An unfortunate side effect.¡±

    ¡°Is all this madness why you had my parents murdered?¡± she asked angrily.

    Rakash quirked a brow. ¡°Why would I do such a thing?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t lie to me! The person who killed them had been commissioned by Lucaan Labs, who works for Moonrise.¡±

    ¡°I did not know this, nor would I have condoned it. I will find the parties responsible and slit their throats myself.¡±

    She stared at him, then sat back on the bed.

    It was true, then.

    Why would he have killed them? She knew it didn¡¯t make sense. Knowing him as she did, he would never have done anything to harm her. The murder had been about that damned alien technology all along.

    ¡°What about my uncle?¡± she asked with a frown. ¡°Duncan.¡±

    ¡°He was hired to keep an eye on you, to keep you safe. Though he lost track of you after your parents suddenly left Vuulthur.¡±

    Susan sighed. ¡°He made up for it in the end. He gave his life to save mine.¡±

    ¡°I am glad to hear it.¡±

    Such poor phrasing should have upset her¡ªhow could he be happy that Duncan was dead?¡ªbut oddly, she was not. A sense of peacefulness bathed her, as if she had finally found her purpose.

    At least, Susan¡¯s purpose.

    But she knew now Susan was only a small part of her.

    She had also been Julia.

    She still was Julia.

    But what was Julia¡¯s purpose? Did she have one? Who was she?

    The dark gaps had significantly shrunk, but they were still there.

    ¡°Rest,¡± said Rakash. ¡°We can talk more later. Over dinner. There is so much I want to tell you¡ªand show you. This world is a much different place now.¡±

    He walked out as her eyes went to the windows.

    The sky was dark, wind blew hard, heavy rain poured down on the garden beyond.

    It is a different place indeed, she thought.

    A knot formed in her stomach as the last dark gaps dissipated and another¡ªeven older¡ªmemory came back to her.

    ¡°Oh, Rakash...¡± she whispered, ¡°what have you done?¡±

    ***

    The three of them stood at a misty crossroad in a world of constant night.

    It was quiet, here. A nice change from the chaos of a dying world that had become their daily lot.

    When he¡¯d told Evken that he knew exactly where his son was, the Zendaar had conjured up a holomap of Qojja with a few taps on his wristpad.

    ¡°Show me.¡±

    Xian had done so, wondering what Evken had in mind.

    ¡°I can get us there faster than with your ship. And, more importantly, we can get in and out before the Suryi have time to interfere.¡±

    ¡°How?¡±

    ¡°The Gleaming,¡± had said Evken. ¡°I¡¯ll admit it¡¯s still new to me, but... every time I¡¯ve gone in and out, it was from a different point within that place, and each time I came out in a different place here. There is a spatial connection that I can sense.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m willing to believe you, but will it be enough to find a specific spot? It might not be the best time to experiment with something new...¡±

    ¡°I know I can do it, Xian. It¡¯s rooted deep inside of me.¡±

    ¡°If distance there is the same as here, we¡¯d still have a long way to travel...¡±

    ¡°No, no, it doesn¡¯t work that way. It¡¯s like...¡± Evken had frowned as he¡¯d tried to find the right words. ¡°I can fold space onto itself. Then it¡¯s just a matter of willing myself in a specific location. From within the Gleaming, everything becomes possible.¡±

    Xian had seemed skeptical, but he had agreed to give it a shot.

    The silence that prevailed in the Gleaming had caught him by surprise. It was a stark contrast with the constant rain and thunder that reigned on Qojja.

    Evken had taken only a few steps, turned around, examined his surroundings, then grabbed Xian and pulled him through...

    ... into a dimly lit cavern of howling winds.

    His son had been there, unable to move, and blinked as they arrived.

    ¡°Father!¡±

    They had heard running footsteps in the hall behind them, coming closer.

    ¡°We need to hurry,¡± had said Evken.

    Xian was already busy. He had plunged a hand into the shifting currents and willed them to quiet down until they became simple breezes and then but a wisp of a memory.

    ¡°Stop!¡± had yelled Xhoras as he¡¯d held his hand out.

    The ground beneath them had begun to shake, but Evken had grabbed both Xian and Paul and in a second, they had been gone.

    They now stood at the crossroad, and all three of them looked around with curiosity.

    ¡°What is this place?¡± asked Paul.

    ¡°It is the Gleaming. It was through here that my people came to Qojja.¡±

    ¡°Then it is through here that you can leave,¡± remarked Xian.

    Evken stared at the Rissl, his eye going wide.

    ¡°You¡¯re right! I hadn¡¯t thought of that.¡±

    Xian smiled. ¡°You won¡¯t have to worry about Rakash anymore.¡±

    ¡°Does anyone live here?¡± asked Paul as he looked toward the north¡ªor what one might have assumed to be the north.

    ¡°I met a creature, once,¡± mused Evken. ¡°It was an odd one. And I¡¯ve seen a castle.¡±

    As the Zendaar talked, Xian waved his hand around and frowned. He pressed his fingers against the earth and closed his eyes.

    Nothing happened.

    ¡°Paul... can you try to do something... anything? Make a rock roll...¡±

    His son seemed intrigued by the suggestion. He reached out a hand and stared at a nearby rock. But it refused to budge.

    ¡°Interesting,¡± muttered Xian.

    ¡°What does it mean?¡± asked Evken.

    ¡°That this place, whatever it is, was not made by our kin. I don¡¯t think it¡¯s even a world per se.¡±

    ¡°Why would you say that?¡±

    Xian pointed above them. ¡°Have you not noticed there are no stars? Not even the glimpse of a moon...¡±

    Evken blinked as he studied the sky. He had not yet spent enough time here to pay much attention to anything. He could see now there was only darkness above them, splattered with occasional splashes of shapeless color... like rare clouds of varying hues¡ªblue, green, violet, yellow... The dim lighting that bathed them, he realized, was emitted by these shifting, floating, vaporous bodies.

    ¡°What is it, then?¡± asked Paul.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±

    Xian stepped off the dirt trail and into the bushes. He pushed them aside and disappeared into the thicket. The other two looked at each other, then followed him.

    They found him crouching by a stream, with his hand skimming the surface.

    ¡°Better luck here?¡± asked Paul.

    ¡°No.¡± He stood and turned to face them with a wide grin. ¡°But it gives me an idea.¡±

 Part IV - Chapter 9

    A large fountain rose at the center of the plaza. Despite the stormy weather, the plaza itself remained dry¡ªlikely protected by some spell, he assumed.

    They had brought him here on foot, down many pathways. To stay out of the rain, they had used sidewalks with glass ceilings.

    Now they just stood there in the middle of the crowd. Most people walked by without paying him any attention. Some, though, sat on the edge of the fountain and stared at him.

    Jack shifted uncomfortably. Brought his hand to his mouth as he coughed. He had taken the last pills from the bottle shortly after his arrival in Ahuaxa. Whatever came next would decide his fate. His safety net was gone.

    More of the Zendaar arrived. One of them caught his eye¡ªhow could he not? His entire suit was white, as were his hair and eyes.

    This one came up to him and stopped a few feet away.

    ¡°Jack Arnett... You are a persistent one, I¡¯ll give you that much. Very well, then. You wanted to see me¡ª¡±

    ¡°Rakash!¡±

    The white-haired man did not hide his displeasure at being interrupted.

    ¡°What is it you want from me?¡± he asked.

    ¡°I want to live!¡±

    Rakash looked at a Zendaar who stood next to him.

    ¡°Is he dead, then, and I hadn¡¯t noticed?¡±

    The other laughed a mean laugh.

    ¡°No,¡± said Jack. ¡°I mean... I¡¯m sick. Dying. Evken told me you could help... make me immortal!¡±

    Rakash quirked a brow. ¡°Did he now?¡±

    Jack realized many were watching and listening. And all of them seemed to find the exchange highly entertaining.

    Why was Rakash doing this?

    ¡°Can¡¯t we... talk somewhere private?¡± he asked with a frown.

    ¡°No.¡± Rakash stared at him. Smiled a little. ¡°But this is not the first time I tell you no, is it? And now, here we are.¡± He gestured to the crowd that had gathered. ¡°This is important to you, is it not?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± grumbled Jack as he coughed.

    ¡°What was that?¡±

    ¡°Yes! It¡¯s important.¡±

    ¡°Important enough that you had to make a spectacle just to reach me. So is it not fair to make a spectacle of our conversation? I think it is.¡±

    The pain inside Jack felt like burning acid coursing through his bloodstream. He cringed and held his breath, hoping it would pass as it sometimes did.

    If Rakash wanted to play mind games, what did he care? As long as he could cure him...

    ¡°Can you help me?¡± he asked between two coughs.

    ¡°Of course,¡± said Rakash with a sweet smile.

    He didn¡¯t say or do anything further, though.

    ¡°What do you want in exchange?¡± asked Jack.

    Rakash crossed his arms.

    ¡°What would you be willing to do to save your own life?¡±

    ¡°Anything!¡±

    There was mock surprise on Rakash¡¯s face. ¡°Really? Even... I don¡¯t know... say, kill another human?¡±

    Jack balked at the suggestion, but not for long as he remembered how his organs were shutting down, one after the other.

    ¡°Yes,¡± he rasped with another cough.

    Rakash threw his arms in the air and spun to look at the assembled crowd. ¡°He said yes, my friends! Had I not told you he would? These humans are so predictable.¡±

    He clapped his hands and Jack saw two more Zendaar come out of a nearby building. They held a man between them. The man wore a gray tunic and a hood covered his head.

    Rakash pointed at the new arrival and glanced at Jack. ¡°Look! How lucky. We just happen to have another human right here. And since I¡¯m feeling gracious today, I have decided to grant you your wish.¡±

    Hope surged through Jack¡¯s heart, though a part of him felt bad for what he knew was bound to come next. Did he have a right to condemn this poor man just so he could live? But he was so tired of being sick, of suffering... he just wanted it to end... please yes, make it end!

    ¡°In fact,¡± went on Rakash, ¡°I feel so generous I won¡¯t ask you to kill him yourself.¡±

    He walked up to the prisoner, pulled the hood off, and bit down on the man¡¯s throat, all in one motion.

    ¡°No!¡± shouted Jack as he recognized the victim and horror filled his heart.

    It was Will!

    His friend looked dazed, likely drugged, and did not even try to fight back.

    Jack tried to run to him, to push the white-haired man away, but he was held firmly in place by the two Zendaar who stood beside him.

    It would have been too late, anyway.

    Rakash drank for a long time from the growing wound. When he finally stopped, he pushed the body to the ground as if it were some piece of trash. Many in the crowd jumped on the still convulsing corpse and started ripping it apart.

    Rakash walked slowly toward Jack with a wicked smile on his face, with Will¡¯s warm blood still dripping from his lips.

    Jack was pushed down to his knees as Rakash reached him.

    The white-haired man placed a clawed finger under Jack¡¯s chin, pushing it up. He felt someone hold his forehead as Rakash forced his mouth to open.

    The Zendaar then opened his own mouth and Will¡¯s blood flowed down into Jack¡¯s throat. He began to choke, but still they maintained him firmly in place, forcing him to swallow.

    Voices chanted as his friend¡¯s blood spread inside him... It burned, but it also brought him energy. He could feel it as the aches that plagued him slowly faded, his organs healed, his coughing stopped... He felt stronger, too.

    It worked!

    They let go of him and he stumbled to his feet.

    ¡°With this tribute,¡± said Rakash, ¡°you become one of us. For only through a friend¡¯s sacrifice can one truly attain humanity.¡±

    The white-haired man then turned and walked away.

    As did everyone else, little by little.

    Soon, Jack was left alone on the plaza, with only the dismembered body of his friend.

    ***

    The door was no longer locked.

    Just like she had expected.

    Nor were the guards there.

    She was free.

    Which did not surprise her.

    Susan had been a prisoner, but Julia was not.

    She walked through the long hall, her mind distracted by all the new memories.

    What was she going to do?

    Qojja was a mess.

    And though she was no longer a prisoner, she doubted they¡¯d just let her leave the mansion. Rakash had gone through too much trouble to bring her back.

    ¡°Psst! Susan. Over here!¡±

    She paused and looked in the direction the voice had come from.

    A man stood half-hidden behind a yellow marble pillar, waving at her.

    His face was familiar.

    She frowned.

    Where had she seen him?

    In the garden, staring at her... but before that, too.

    She walked toward him and, as she got closer, his name came back to her.

    ¡°Detective Ward?¡±

    It felt like a lifetime ago.

    The man nodded, grabbed her arm, and pulled her away from the hall.

    ¡°I thought I recognized you,¡± he said. ¡°How did you get here?¡±

    ¡°I... followed a lead. About my parents. Why are you here?¡±

    ¡°My investigation on that journalist¡¯s death... these Zendaar did not like my meddling and they abducted me. But I think I¡¯ve found a way out...¡±

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

    ¡°Great! I need to get out of here.¡±

    ¡°Alright, follow me.¡±

    They went through a door. It led to a bridge over the garden that connected the mansion to a tower at the back.

    As they walked, Ward glanced at her. ¡°You know there¡¯s a statue down there that looks exactly like you?¡±

    ¡°There is?¡± Susan was surprised, though she also found it amusing, and somewhat endearing. ¡°Who would have thought...¡±

    ¡°Why does that lunatic have a statue of you?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s Julia.¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°The statue. It¡¯s Julia.¡±

    ¡°Who is Julia?¡±

    ¡°I am.¡±

    Ward gave her a confused look. She smiled.

    ¡°It¡¯s complicated.¡±

    They arrived at the entrance of the tower, but when the door opened, they came face to face with a large Zendaar who squinted at them.

    ¡°What are you doing here?¡±

    Before Ward could say anything, Susan stepped up.

    ¡°You dare question me? Do you know who I am?¡±

    The man stared at her, then lowered his eyes.

    ¡°I apologize, Julia. I did not know you had returned. It is an honor...¡±

    ¡°I am in a hurry,¡± she interrupted as she pressed past him. ¡°Have a good day.¡±

    The startled detective followed her. ¡°What just happened?¡±

    Susan grinned at him. ¡°I once was popular among the Zendaar.¡±

    ¡°You still are, I¡¯d say.¡±

    She shrugged as he took the lead again.

    They walked down a flight of stairs and through a long corridor that ended at an elevator door.

    ¡°This is the tricky part,¡± he said as he brought a keycard out of his pocket. ¡°Restricted access. I stole this from one of the guards.¡±

    He pressed the card against the scanner. Four colored lights blinked, then the door slid open with a hissing sound. They hurried inside.

    ¡°Do you know where this goes?¡± asked Susan.

    Ward tapped on the console and the elevator began to go down.

    ¡°Into the city below. From there, we¡¯ll have to reach the gateway. It¡¯s the quickest way back to civilization.¡±

    ¡°And how do we get to this gateway?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a short walk. I got the location from some of the servants.¡±

    As they came out of the elevator into the busy streets of Ahuaxa, Susan looked up.

    The rain had stopped, but the sky was as dark as it had been since her arrival on Qojja.

    When she noticed the trees, high above, she remembered the city was built at the bottom of a chasm.

    Would it be possible to climb up?

    There¡¯d have to be a way, she figured as they walked.

    People stared at them, she sensed. Likely some recognized her.

    They were all Zendaar, after all. How could they not?

    She had meant so much to them.

    Many thought of her as a savior, as she had negotiated the peace treaty between their people and the humans, so many millennia ago¡ªin a time when the Zendaar were being slaughtered.

    It had been her duty, though.

    She could not let these creatures die.

    But now, there was another danger¡ªa much more pressing one. One that could destroy all life on the planet.

    Though she could not sense it, she could guess it.

    The constant disasters and climate tampering would eventually start an unstoppable chain reaction.

    It might already be too late.

    ¡°There it is!¡± she distractedly heard Ward say.

    But she was looking elsewhere.

    There, against one of the cliffs that surrounded the city, she saw a platform that could be used to go up.

    ¡°Susan?¡± She glanced at Ward. ¡°Are you okay?¡±

    She smiled. ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°Come on, let¡¯s go.¡±

    Though people looked at them with curiosity, no one tried to stop him as Ward jumped straight through the gateway.

    Susan watched him go, then turned and headed toward the cliff.

    This madness had to end.

    No one tried to stop her either as she reached the platform and stepped onto it. She hit the control, and it began to rise.

    She watched as the ground grew smaller, further and further away from her.

    It was always a difficult thing to do, no matter how many times she¡¯d done it before. But she also knew there was no other way...

    To save Qojja, her dreamskin had to die.

    When the platform was high enough the crowds below looked like little dots...

    ... she spread her arms and jumped off.

    ***

    They went back to the cavern, ready to fight... but the renegades were no longer there.

    Xian started down a tunnel, followed by his two friends.

    ¡°Maybe you should stay here,¡± Xian told Evken. ¡°We can draw them to you...¡±

    The Zendaar shook his head. ¡°No. We can¡¯t afford to waste any more time. They could be far. We need to do it all as soon as we find them.¡±

    ¡°You could get killed,¡± pointed out Paul.

    ¡°I¡¯ll stay out of the way. Besides, I can phase out if it gets hot. I understand the process better now. I¡¯ll be fine.¡±

    After ten minutes of exploring and not finding anything of interest¡ªlet alone anyone¡ªXian wondered if they weren¡¯t wasting time.

    ¡°Maybe they¡¯re out there busy starting another storm,¡± said Paul, echoing his father¡¯s thoughts.

    ¡°Any way we could check?¡± asked Evken.

    ¡°We¡¯d need to get back to my ship... which we left behind so we could use the Gleaming.¡±

    ¡°We could use the mask¡¯s residual energies to locate them,¡± suggested Paul.

    ¡°We¡¯d lose the element of surprise if we did that.¡±

    ¡°I could get us back to your ship in two seconds,¡± remarked the Zendaar.

    Xian lifted a hand in the air to quiet them.

    They all heard it, then. The distant sound of voices.

    It came from a tunnel on their right.

    They headed in that direction.

    As they approached, the voices became louder, and they saw a light flickering at the end of the corridor.

    They went on more quietly, until they were just a few feet from the entrance to another, larger cave.

    The conversation had become more distinct, though uninteresting, as the three prayed to their One True God.

    ¡°Blessed be Thy Name,¡± said Xhoras.

    ¡°Which cannot be voiced,¡± said Verlhynn.

    ¡°For to voice it would be blasphemy,¡± said Udrak.

    ¡°Blessed be Your wisdom, for it is almighty and all-knowing.¡±

    And they went on about the abomination that was Qojja and how soon they would achieve their god¡¯s will, and so on and so forth.

    Xian motioned for the other two to stay put, then walked into the cavern.

    The three runaways were in a circle, sitting on the stone floor. Their eyes were closed, faces lowered as they blabbered their nonsense.

    Xian lifted his hands and, with a few quick motions, generated the winds he¡¯d need.

    They had practiced the plan twice to make sure Evken was comfortable enough with his task¡ªhis part would be the trickiest.

    The three Rissl must have heard the whistling of the rising winds, as they jumped to their feet and turned to face Xian.

    ¡°You!¡± shouted Xhoras.

    But it was too late.

    The winds rushed toward the runaways and spun around them angrily.

    If it had worked on his son, Xian figured it would work on them too.

    And it did.

    The contrary winds made it impossible for the prisoners to move.

    ***

    He was nervous.

    Despite having practiced this twice, he feared he would mess up.

    He had once before, after all, had he not?

    This is different, he told himself.

    This should work.

    If he got it right.

    He watched from the entrance to the cave, with Paul standing next to him.

    They heard the whistling winds before they felt them.

    By the time they¡¯d become powerful enough to hold the renegades, the Suryi had jumped to their feet.

    Evken began the process.

    He closed his eyes and reached out to the Gleaming.

    The familiar shifting in his mind told him he had arrived.

    But still he maintained his eyes closed as he pictured an opening, a hole, a tear in the fabric of reality.

    There was a cracking sound... followed by an angry voice: ¡°What do you think you¡¯re doing?¡±

    Evken lost his focus.

    He blinked at the tiny man who stood before him, hands on his hips. He wore what looked like a blue military uniform.

    ¡°Well?¡± he asked, impatiently.

    ¡°I¡¯m opening a pathway,¡± he muttered.

    ¡°I can see that. But I expect you do not have the proper authorizations, now, do you?¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°You can¡¯t just go and poke holes into the ether wherever you like, you know. It¡¯s not polite. Not to mention, illegal.¡±

    Evken stared at the man. Frowned.

    ¡°I don¡¯t have time for this,¡± he said as he started to open the passage again.

    ¡°Oh no, you don¡¯t!¡±

    He felt his strength seep out of him and the way was shut close.

    ¡°How did you do that?¡± he asked in disbelief.

    The little man waved a finger at him. ¡°You had better have a good explanation for this, young one!¡±

    Young one? Evken was thousands of years old.

    ¡°Who are you?¡± he asked.

    ¡°Well now! That¡¯s the first sensible thing you¡¯ve said all day. I¡¯m Avran, of course. Now, tell me what this is all about before I put a curse on you.¡±

    ¡°My friends are in danger,¡± he said irritably, ¡°I need to bring them through quickly...¡±

    Avran squinted at him suspiciously. ¡°Helping friends? Is that all, then?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± said Evken.

    ¡°Well, there are easier ways to go about it, but alright. Get your friends to safety. Then I¡¯ll decide what to do with the lot of you.¡±

    Was this guy for real?

    Evken put the question aside to focus on his task.

    The air before him rippled and shuttered as the ether slowly cracked. He made the opening widen further until he could see Paul on the other side...

    Now, he just needed to keep the passage open long enough for everyone to come through.

    ***

    As soon as the renegade Rissl became bound by the howling winds, he turned and shouted: ¡°Now, Evken!¡±

    Paul blinked. The Zendaar was already gone.

    He must have launched the process.

    Paul turned back to his father. He seemed to have things under control.

    ¡°Evken should have the pathway opened any minute now,¡± he called out.

    ¡°I hope so. I¡¯m not sure how long I can hold them...¡±

    Paul frowned. ¡°It didn¡¯t seem too difficult for Xhoras when he did it to me.¡±

    ¡°I have three of them to maintain at once. And each of them is much more powerful than you are. Sorry, kid.¡±

    Paul grimaced.

    It was true, though. He was still new to this whole godhood business.

    His father insisted they were not gods¡ªand he wasn¡¯t exactly of the religious type¡ªbut sometimes it was difficult to think of themselves as anything but...

    He looked back at the spot where the Zendaar had stood and wondered what was keeping him up.

    It had gone rather quickly when they had trained.

    But the Gleaming was a strange and new place, even to Evken. Perhaps he¡¯d run into something unexpected...

    The air shimmered and cracked.

    ¡°Father! It¡¯s opening.¡±

    He glanced over his shoulder and saw the three renegades floating in the air, carried by the contrary winds, as Xian walked toward him.

    The opening widened and Paul saw their Zendaar friend on the other side, leaning on his cane.

    ¡°Come through... Quick!¡±

    Paul held out one hand toward the Rissl and the other toward the passage.

    Because of his mixed heritage, he could feel both of them, control them. This made him the perfect conduit for what they needed to do.

    He took over from his father, pushing the winds toward the opening. He could feel now the strength of the prisoners as they attempted to break free. The strain was formidable.

    Paul made the winds blow harder and faster, sweeping them toward the pathway, and through it.

    Then he grabbed his father¡¯s shoulder and pulled him into the Gleaming with him.

    The gap closed behind them with a popping sound as the three Rissl fell to the ground.

    The winds died instantly.

    The now free renegades jumped to their feet, turned around, and held out their hands with fury in their eyes.

    ¡°You fools! Do you think you can hold us? You will die for this...¡±

    Nothing happened.

    They stared at their hands.

    ¡°What is this?¡±

    Evken walked up to Xhoras with a big grin on his face. Then, he punched him in the nose.

    The Rissl staggered back with a howl of pain.

    ¡°How is this possible?¡± he yelled.

    ¡°This is not Qojja,¡± said Xian. ¡°We have no powers here.¡±

    ¡°This is highly irregular...¡± said a small voice from behind them.

    Paul spun and saw a little man in a blue military uniform looking at them with a disapproving look.

    ¡°I should fine you for this,¡± he added.

    Udrak picked that moment to jump at Evken, push him to the ground, and try to strangle him.

    Before he had time to realize what was happening to him, Avran grabbed his arm and in one powerful thrust pulled him off and threw him five feet into the air.

    ¡°It is not polite to interrupt,¡± he said with a frown.

    ¡°Who are you?¡± asked Paul.

    ¡°He is Avran,¡± answered Evken as he got back to his feet.

    ¡°Of course,¡± added Avran with a pleased smile. ¡°You learn quickly, young one.¡±

    ¡°Young one?¡± asked Xian with a quizzical look at the Zendaar.

    Evken sighed. ¡°A more relevant question would be, what are you?¡±

    ¡°If it weren¡¯t you asking,¡± said Avran, ¡°I¡¯d find that very rude! Isn¡¯t it obvious?¡± He gestured at his uniform, as if it were enough to answer.

    ¡°Sorry, but we¡¯re not from around here...¡±

    ¡°Obviously,¡± snorted the little man. ¡°I am the Witchmaster General, and serve at the pleasure of his Lordship the Count Saruvar.¡±

    ¡°Does he rule over the Gleaming?¡±

    ¡°That, he does. As for you, young one, I thought you said you were helping friends? These,¡± he said as he pointed an accusing finger at the stunned Rissl, ¡°do not seem to fit that description. What do you have to say for yourself?¡±

    ¡°I apologize, Avran, but I had to act quickly or our prisoners would have killed my friends. They had great powers in the realm of men.¡±

    Avran sniffed at the three renegades. ¡°Prisoners, eh? Not human, for sure.¡± He glanced at Xian. ¡°Nor is this one.¡± He looked back at Evken. ¡°And why do you bring your prisoners into the Gleaming?¡±

    ¡°If I may,¡± said Xian. ¡°It was my idea. We meant no offense. We are unfamiliar with your rules, as we only discovered the existence of the Gleaming recently. But this seems like the only place where they cannot do harm or damage.¡±

    ¡°Hrmph.¡± The little man squinted at Xian. ¡°This is highly irregular,¡± he muttered. ¡°I will have to report this, you understand? Still, if it is simply a matter of holding them... there are certainly some who would be happy to accommodate.¡±

    ¡°How do you mean?¡± asked Evken.

    ¡°You really know nothing of the Gleaming, do you?¡± Avran shook his head with sadness. ¡°Youth today... Well, all sorts of creatures reside here, some of which take great pleasure at tormenting those brought to them. They always appreciate generous donations. These three would certainly bring a sneer of delight to their hideous behemoth faces.¡± He blinked and looked around with a worried expression. ¡°Though I mean no disrespect, of course, if you¡¯re into that sort of thing... They are quite charming beasts. Truly.¡± He coughed.

    ¡°Of course,¡± said Evken with an amused smile. ¡°Would you do us the honor of delivering the prisoners for us to these charming beasts?¡±

    ¡°Me?¡± asked Avran with surprise. ¡°But... Would you not want the reward?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯d be happy to let you have it,¡± said Xian.

    ¡°Well, that is most irregular... though very generous.¡± He smiled. ¡°Thank you. I shall handle the matter with great diligence.¡±

 Part IV - Chapter 10

    Ajiin¡ªfor that was her name¡ªhad lived a thousand lives by the time humans found Qojja. Her dreamskins had influenced them, of course, for she saw potential in them. She had wanted them to come to her world.

    After all, what good was a planet with no life?

    She had made animals, of course, and plants, and insects... but the world would not thrive without sentient beings.

    For a time, she toyed with the idea of creating her own. But the thought frightened her. She was young and inexperienced, at the time. This was, after all, her first creation. She feared doing things wrong and creating flawed creatures. So, instead, she sought others, out there, who already existed, and had begun to expand their reach through the universe.

    The humans brought technology with them, and with technology came civilization.

    Ajiin watched and smiled, for it was good.

    She lived among them, her beloved humans, under various guises.

    When the Zendaar came, she was frightened at first. But then, she saw them for what they were. Flawed creatures with their own inner beauty. And she learned to love them, too.

    But then...

    But then her dreamskin at the time, the woman known as Julia, became sick.

    And Rakash, her beloved Rakash, who was like a son to her, sought to save her through alien technology... not realizing that by doing so, he had condemned her to five thousand years of sleep.

    Because only through death could she have moved on to a new dreamskin.

    But this time was different. She had work to do. So she chose to return with her true body.

    It had lain sleeping in a netherchalk room hidden in the depths of the world, near its very core.

    She sat up on the resting pad and waited a few seconds for the nanobots inside her to reactivate and revigorate her bones and articulations.

    Then she jumped off and pressed her hand against the nearest wall. A panel slid open, revealing the rock surface behind. She stepped into it and the matter parted way, for it obeyed its creator.

    Even as she moved, her mind and body were already busy sending signals deep into the core. Some were intended to analyze, others to stabilize.

    By the time she reached the surface, ongoing earthquakes had stopped, hurricanes had settled down, fires had fizzled out, tsunamis had morphed into small waves.

    But, most of all, rains died out as clouds parted; darkness dimmed and the rays of the sun shone on Qojja for the first time in two weeks.

    ***

    When the rain stopped and the darkness faded, the whole world looked up at the sky.

    It had been such a long time that the light blinded them.

    But still they stared, in joy and in awe.

    And though the brightness seemed to increase, some pointed toward the sun. Exclamations of surprise and praises rose to the Suryi.

    For in the midst of that blinding light there was a form.

    The shape of a woman.

    And it grew larger as it came closer, flying down to them from the sky.

    When she had come close enough they could see her beautiful bright face, she paused, spread her arms, and spoke.

    Her voice boomed, confident and powerful, and it was heard by everyone throughout the city.

    ¡°People of Ahuaxa, I am Ajiin. Do not fear, for you are safe. The world is at peace again. There was a time when your people knew me as Julia. I loved you then, as I do now, and as I forever will¡ª¡±

    ¡°How can you love these murderous beasts?¡± yelled a voice from within the crowd.

    Ajiin¡¯s eyes did not take long to find the source.

    She smiled at Jack.

    ¡°They are flawed creatures, as are you. But therein lies beauty. Everyone has flaws. Some people lie, some people cheat, some people kill... They did not choose their fate, nor did you. They are what they are, as are you. I accept them as such, as I accept you.¡±

    Without another word, the winds carried her toward the floating garden, and the mansion which rose at its center...

    ... the mansion of her beloved Rakash.

    ***

    She landed in the garden, next to the statue of Julia.

    Ajiin stared at it for a moment, and a small smile formed on her lips.

    As she walked toward the mansion, a crowd gathered around her. All of them knelt before her¡ªservants as well as Zendaar.

    It did not feel right to her.

    She had always lived among them, after all.

    And even when they had adored her, they had never treated her like this.

    It was not fear, she knew, but respect. She could appreciate it, but she disliked it nonetheless. This was why she had never wanted to use her real body before. It was easier to drown in the crowd when you were just one other human.

    Rakash waited for her at the entrance of his house.

    He stared at her as she approached, his expression unreadable.

    ¡°Hello, my dear Rakash,¡± she said.

    He squinted. ¡°Is it true, then? You are Julia?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°What game have you played with me?¡±

    She was surprised by his reaction, yet also knew she should not be. Was it not in his nature, after all, to play games? To manipulate? Was it not then normal for him to assume others would behave in the same fashion?

    ¡°It was no game,¡± she said softly.

    ¡°Then why not tell us who you were?¡±

    It was unusual for him to ask questions. It must have felt odd to him too, as he usually was the one with all the answers. She could sense his frustration, and it pained her.

    ¡°I prefer to go unnoticed.¡±

    He laughed.

    ¡°Is that what this was?¡± he asked as he gestured toward the sky.

    She walked up closer and reached out to him, pressing her hand against his cheek. He did not pull away.

    ¡°Rakash, my dear Rakash... I forgive you.¡±

    There was anger in his eyes, but also confusion, and a hint of regret.

    ¡°Forgive me? Are you mad?¡±

    ¡°I asked you to kill me, that day, so long ago, but you did not. For that, I do forgive you, because I know you did what you did out of love for me.¡±

    His jaw tensed but he did not speak.

    She smiled. ¡°You must let go of me now. You have lived with my ghost for too long.¡±

    Her hand moved to the pendant he still wore, and she pulled it off of him. He gasped, hand clasping his neck.

    ¡°Goodbye, Rakash.¡±

    She leaned and dropped a kiss on his cheek, then the winds carried her off.

    ***

    She had heard the goddess speak... first with amazement, then horror when she learned this was Julia. That horrible, despicable woman.

    How could it be her?

    How could she still be alive after all these years?

    A human!

    And now she was a goddess?

    It made no sense.

    When Ajiin had started toward the mansion, Thyria had run to the tower with the hidden elevator.

    But the streets were crowded, and she swore as she pushed and shoved people out of her way.

    By the time she finally got through, rode up, ran over the bridge and through the halls, and reached the exit... Ajiin was flying away.

    She would have loved to throttle her throat... goddess or no goddess!

    Rakash turned and froze when he saw her.

    He was in a foul mood, that much was obvious.

    ¡°What are you doing here?¡± he spat out.

    ¡°What was she doing here would be a more relevant question,¡± she snapped back.

    ¡°I don¡¯t have time for this¡ª¡±

    ¡°You never do!¡± she remarked angrily.

    He paused. ¡°You do realize this is all your fault, don¡¯t you?¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°If you hadn¡¯t poisoned Evken, none of this would have happened.¡±

    She blanched.

    How did he know?

    ¡°I don¡¯t understand...¡±

    ¡°Please. Don¡¯t pretend innocence. Do you think I¡¯m stupid? Did you think I would not investigate how Julia got infected? She had been living in Ahuaxa for months. Our people can¡¯t get sick or suffer from illnesses, but they can transmit viruses to humans. She had been spending most of her time with Evken, so it was not difficult to guess he was the source. Or to confirm it. How he got infected though was the more interesting question.¡±

    Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.

    His tone had grown increasingly menacing as he went on.

    Thyria took a step back.

    ¡°I...¡± she stuttered. ¡°Julia had you all bewitched!¡±

    ¡°Really? That¡¯s your excuse?¡±

    ¡°She stole Evken from me!¡± she yelled suddenly. ¡°And then she stole you! You treated her more like a daughter than you ever did me. A human!¡±

    ¡°Apparently not,¡± said Rakash bitterly.

    Thyria suddenly realized this was the reason her father had been so angry with her all these years. She had always assumed it had been because of her momentary lapse of kindness toward the humans.

    Rakash walked past her and into the mansion.

    She stormed after him.

    ¡°Are you going to hold this against me all of my life now? For all of eternity?¡±

    He glanced at her. Grunted. ¡°No.¡±

    She blinked. ¡°What?¡±

    He sighed. ¡°Julia was right... Ajiin. I need to move on. You are my daughter, not her. And I should not blame you for behaving in a way I might have myself.¡±

    Thyria was speechless as she walked next to him.

    ¡°But,¡± he warned, ¡°I am still upset with you. Give me a few years.¡±

    ¡°I can do that.¡±

    She dared to drop a kiss on his cheek before running off¡ªnot waiting to see his reaction, and not realizing she had mimicked Ajiin¡¯s own action.

    ***

    He saw her walking down the street and his heart turned to stone. To think he had once loved her...

    Their eyes met and Thyria paused.

    She hesitated, then walked up to him.

    ¡°Evken...¡±

    He turned his eyes away, while his grip on the cane tightened.

    ¡°You have every reason to hate me,¡± she said softly. ¡°I don¡¯t blame you for it. But I wanted you to know... I¡¯m sorry.¡±

    His eyes darted back to her in surprise, but she was already walking away.

    Why had she said that?

    It was not like her.

    She couldn¡¯t have meant it.

    And yet... he had sensed a peacefulness in her he had never sensed before.

    It didn¡¯t matter, anyway.

    Nothing could fix what she had done...

    Then again, Julia was not really dead.

    Evken had brought them out of the Gleaming just in time to hear Ajiin¡¯s speech. It had left him torn inside and with tears in his eyes.

    It was difficult for him to comprehend.

    Was she a goddess?

    Had she been one all along?

    He had walked away from his three friends to gather his things and say his goodbyes.

    Now that the Gleaming had become known to him, why would he stay?

    He had always wanted to leave, to escape Rakash... now he had a real opportunity to do so.

    And if his people had come here, to this world, through the Gleaming, did it not mean he could go to other worlds through the Gleaming as well?

    The future had suddenly opened to him with an endless stream of possibilities that made his mind reel.

    ¡°Hello, Evken.¡±

    He jumped and turned around.

    Ajiin stood before him, smiling.

    People all around fell to their knees and bent their heads.

    She paid them no heed, but held out her hand for him to grab.

    He did so and felt the winds rush around them and pick them up and lift them into the air. It was her way of giving them privacy.

    ¡°I wanted to see you again,¡± she said, ¡°to let you know you did nothing wrong. You should not blame yourself for what happened to me¡ªto Julia. It was not your fault.¡±

    ¡°I infected you...¡± he said with a weak voice.

    ¡°You did. But it was not your doing.¡±

    He remained quiet for a moment, just looking at her. She looked different, and yet he still could recognize her beyond the superficiality of her appearance. Her being was the same.

    ¡°What will you do to Thyria?¡± he suddenly asked.

    ¡°Nothing.¡±

    ¡°But... she was responsible.¡±

    ¡°Yes, she was. And she will have to live with that guilt for the rest of her life. Is this not punishment enough?¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t know Thyria if you think that will make her lose any sleep...¡±

    ¡°Maybe, maybe not. But it doesn¡¯t matter.¡±

    She still held his hand with a firm grip. Her skin was soft and warm and he yearned for more...

    ¡°Where will you go?¡± she asked, as if she had read his earlier thoughts.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know... wherever you want me to,¡± he added hopefully.

    ¡°It is your fate, not mine,¡± she said with a sweet smile. ¡°But wherever you go, a part of me will always be with you.¡±

    She leaned closer and they kissed for a long time.

    When he opened his eyes, he was back in the street, and alone.

    There was nothing more left for him to do here, he realized.

    So he closed his eyes again and wished himself away.

    ***

    Though her words had made no sense to him, she had been full of light and of beauty.

    If this godlike being was Julia, did this mean she also was Susan?

    It was a confusing thought for the detective, but then so much of what he had seen and experienced since his arrival on Qojja had challenged his beliefs.

    Even his attempted escape had stretched his understanding of reality.

    Thinking Susan was right behind him, he had jumped through the gateway only to find himself in a room filled with surprised Zendaar. They had immediately captured him and sent him back to Ahuaxa.

    He had then seen Susan¡¯s body fall from the sky and wondered why she had killed herself. That, too, had made no sense to him.

    And then Ajiin had come.

    It was a momentous event... at least, for the Zendaar.

    He was still a prisoner.

    Nothing had changed for him.

    Or so he had thought until she reappeared.

    She hovered in the sky above him.

    He had been reassigned to a more lowly function because of his escape attempt, and now served a merchant in the blood district of Ahuaxa.

    ¡°I have been looking for you, detective Ward,¡± she said with a smile.

    He stared up at the godlike being, unsure how to respond.

    ¡°You have?¡± was all he managed.

    She came down from the sky and landed near him.

    Everywhere she went, people fell to their knees and bowed their heads.

    Instinctively, he started to do the same.

    But she held out her hand to stop him.

    ¡°No. Please. Not you.¡± She smiled. ¡°I am no god. It is difficult for them to understand, but it should not be for you.¡±

    ¡°What are you then?¡±

    ¡°I am from an ancient species called the Rissl. We use technology to do the things we do¡ªalbeit a much more highly advanced form of technology.¡±

    ¡°Oh.¡±

    ¡°You have been good to me,¡± she continued. ¡°You helped me when you did not need to. I will help you too, now. You are free to go.¡±

    Ward¡¯s current master, who had been kneeling nearby, looked up at this and started to protest.

    She hushed him with a single glance.

    ¡°I am?¡± asked the detective in disbelief.

    ¡°Yes. No one will stop you. You have my word.¡±

    He believed her.

    ¡°Thank you.¡±

    She rose back into the sky with a goodbye wave.

    ¡°Ajiin!¡± he heard a voice call out, but the woman did not hear as she flew off.

    Ward turned and saw a man run up to the spot where Susan had been and stare at her in the sky. He had a small scar above his right brow.

    ¡°You just missed her, looks like,¡± he said cheerfully¡ªhe hadn¡¯t felt this happy in a long time.

    The other looked down at him.

    ¡°Yes, so it¡ª¡± He froze and stared. ¡°Ward?¡±

    The detective frowned. ¡°Yes. Do I know you?¡±

    The man laughed. ¡°Indeed you do. Though under different names.¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    He thought he¡¯d have recognized such a face... It did feel somewhat familiar, but it was the kind of familiarity that comes from seeing someone in TriVid news rather than personal knowledge.

    ¡°My name is Xian. But I once was Rosenkrantz, Gyldenstierne, and Brown.¡±

    Ward gaped. ¡°You must be kidding me!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry I bailed out on you the way I did, but there were more pressing matters I needed to attend to.¡±

    They walked together for a while, discussing their respective experiences.

    Until a holovisor call interrupted them.

    ¡°I have to take this,¡± said Xian. ¡°But I suspect we¡¯ll meet again, Brian.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll be heading back to Exudia. You know where to find me...¡±

    ***

    The streets of Joqqal had become peaceful again.

    It was an odd thing.

    After days of unrest, of dark skies and raging winds, of constant storms and religious uprisings... it all had gone quiet.

    Cora stared at the crowds going about their daily business, as if nothing had happened.

    Society was a strange thing, she mused.

    Was it the same elsewhere?

    Ever since that dream Xian had gifted her with, she had yearned for the stars.

    The news had stated the spaceport would soon reopen and normal traffic would resume.

    She tapped on her wristpad and initiated a call to Xian¡¯s holo ID.

    When his now-familiar face appeared on her retina, she smiled.

    ¡°I wanted to thank you,¡± she said.

    ¡°What for?¡±

    ¡°Not much. Just saving our whole damn planet.¡± She laughed.

    ¡°Oh, that.¡± He grinned. ¡°I had some help, though. Can¡¯t take all the credit.¡±

    ¡°I also wanted to say goodbye.¡±

    ¡°You are leaving?¡±

    ¡°As soon as they reopen the spaceport. I plan to be on the first flight out.¡±

    ¡°Good for you,¡± he said. ¡°My son will be there too.¡±

    ¡°You have a son?¡±

    ¡°Haven¡¯t I mentioned him? His name is Paul. He helped save the world, by the way.¡±

    ¡°Then I¡¯ll have to make sure I thank him as well.¡±

    ***

    The city was beautiful, as had been the woman floating in the sky.

    It was all quite overwhelming.

    He had recognized his friend¡¯s voice, too, and that had puzzled him.

    What was Jack doing here?

    How was he?

    He hadn¡¯t seen him in such a long time...

    Not since he¡¯d given him the mask.

    He had disappeared after that.

    It was good to know he still was alive.

    Paul searched for him after Ajiin finished her speech.

    He found Jack walking aimlessly down an empty street, looking forlorn and dejected.

    ¡°Jack! What happened to you?¡±

    His friend turned and looked at him. He closed his eyes and sobbed.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Paul, I¡¯m so sorry...¡±

    ¡°What about?¡±

    ¡°Will... I killed him...¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s all my fault.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re not making any sense, buddy.¡±

    ¡°I was dying... they gave me life... but they took Will¡¯s as payment... it was horrible!¡±

    He wiped his mouth, as if a bitter taste lingered on his tongue.

    ¡°I don¡¯t understand anything you¡¯re saying...¡±

    And so the two friends sat and Jack told him everything from the beginning. How he had been sick for months, how he had wanted the mask so he could trade it against the secret of immortality, how the price of immortality had been the life of their friend...

    ¡°I would never have agreed to it, had I known! But they never told me! They just brought him out and killed him in front of my eyes before I could say anything... These people are monsters! And I am one of them now.¡±

    Tears streamed down his cheeks.

    Paul didn¡¯t know what to say.

    It was a horrifying story.

    He was angry at how Will had been treated, but he also understood Jack¡¯s torment.

    But why had he not talked to them?

    They could have helped him...

    Could they have, though?

    How?

    He had tried to use magic to ease some of his friend¡¯s pains, but it had not been of much help. Of course, he hadn¡¯t been given all the information, but he was no doctor, and doubted he¡¯d have been able to do much more.

    ¡°You can¡¯t change what happened,¡± he finally said. ¡°There is no point dwelling over it. It¡¯s not like you killed him yourself. You did what you had to do. You¡¯re alive, and you don¡¯t have those pains anymore... Will would have wanted that.¡±

    They had talked some more before Paul finally left.

    He had decided to leave Qojja.

    His parents were here, but...

    Thyria was a creature beyond his comprehension. And she always made him uncomfortable.

    Xian was more accessible, and he felt like he had bonded with him, but he also knew his father would not stay on this world forever, not now that he had put a stop to the renegade Rissl.

    More importantly, both his parents had lives... he should have one too.

    He would stay in touch with them¡ªat least with his father¡ªbut he¡¯d found the closure he needed.

    Now that he knew where he came from, and why he was the way he was, there were no reasons for him to stay here any longer.

    ***

    His friend was right, but it was difficult to accept...

    The Zendaar had tricked him¡ªhe knew that, deep inside.

    But he still felt filthy and despicable.

    How could he have dragged his friend into this?

    He was responsible.

    Even if indirectly.

    And now, not only did he have to live with that knowledge, he had become one of them.

    Would he start acting like them, too?

    Despite the disgust he had felt, he had enjoyed the taste of Will¡¯s blood. He often found himself longing for more, which made him queasy.

    He was just as much a monster as they were.

    Not just because of what they had done to him, but even before that... Who would say ¡®yes¡¯ when asked if they¡¯d kill to live? Who but a monster?

    Maybe he deserved his fate after all.

    And Ajiin... that creature... that being of light... whatever she was¡ªhe refused to think of her as a goddess¡ªhow could she condone such monstrous behavior? She excused it, even, made apologies for it.

    It made no sense to him.

    As he wandered the streets, he froze when he saw the Face of Xian. Except, this time, it wasn¡¯t a mask. It was a man¡¯s face.

    And he was walking right toward him.

    ¡°Hello, Mr. Arnett.¡±

    Jack stared at Xian.

    ¡°You know me?¡±

    The man¡¯s face was serious as he nodded.

    ¡°You¡¯ve given me much trouble, but I know now you were merely a pawn in the Suryi¡¯s game.¡±

    Jack was aghast. ¡°You call this a game? My entire life has been shredded. My best friend was murdered, his blood fed to me.¡± He winced at the memory.

    Xian frowned. ¡°You have fallen deep, and it pains me to hear this.¡±

    ¡°Can you fix me?¡± he asked with some hope¡ªwas this man not supposed to be a god, after all?

    The other sighed and shook his head. ¡°I am afraid not. Only the creator of your species could do something for you¡ªmaybe. And that is not me.¡±

    Before Jack could ask the man what he meant, Xian had walked away and disappeared into the crowd.

    He felt like shouting, like hitting a wall with his fist, like ripping someone¡¯s throat and drinking their blood...

    No! Not that! Never!

    With a disgusted grimace, he started walking again.

    He just wanted to leave.

    Qojja, if he could¡ªthough he realized he could not, not anymore, now that he was one of them.

    The Zendaar could not leave the planet.

    But, at least, he could leave Ahuaxa.

    Why would he stay here, among them?

    They disgusted him.

    He disgusted himself enough as it was, he did not need them to add to his misery.

    So he took the platform and rose... up, up, up...

    And then, without a look back, he lost himself in the depths of the jungle.

    ***

    He searched for her everywhere. He knew she was still here, in Ahuaxa. He could sense her presence, but also he would see her every once in a while rise into the sky and come down to a different part of the city... as if she were visiting people, having private conversations with specific individuals.

    Xian finally found her as she was about to leave again.

    This time, she heard him call.

    She smiled. ¡°It has been a long time since I¡¯ve seen you. Well met, Xian.¡±

    ¡°Actually, not that long if you count our dreamskins. I was the journalist John and, later, the detective Brown, whom Susan both met.¡±

    She laughed. ¡°I would not have guessed. I was another person, then. With no memory of my true self.¡±

    ¡°How did that happen?¡±

    She then told him her story, as he did his.

    They talked of the distant past, as well, shared memories from a previous life.

    ¡°What will you do now?¡± he asked.

    ¡°What I have always done. Watch over my people.¡±

    ¡°Do you not long to create again?¡±

    ¡°I made other worlds after this one,¡± she said, ¡°but always I come back here. It is enough for me. How about you? What will you do?¡±

    ¡°Sleep feels very appealing right now.¡±

    She laughed. ¡°Haven¡¯t you slept long enough?¡±

    ¡°I like my dreamskins better. There is something about being a human that I find more appealing.¡±

    ¡°They are fascinating creatures,¡± she conceded.

    When finally they parted ways, Xian rose into the sky as she did, though the winds carried them in different directions

    Back aboard his ship, he sat in the circular room and flew off.

    His mission here was done.

    The runaway Rissl would no longer be a danger to Qojja¡ªor to any other world.

    He could dream his lives in peace, now.

    It did not matter where his ship was, so he left it in orbit around Ajiin¡¯s world and went back to the white room with the sleeping pod.

    Xian lay down inside.

    Perhaps he¡¯d join Paul and Cora and travel with them with his new skin.

    He closed his eyes and fell asleep.