Trenekis of Hiera

Mark Ian Kendrick

Copyright © 2010 by Mark Ian Kendrick

ISBN10: 0-7414-5864-0

ISBN13: 978-0-7414-5864-3

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

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Epigraph

“People say that what we’re all seeking is a meaning for life.  I don’t think that’s what we’re really seeking.  I think that what we’re seeking is an experience of being alive, so that our life experiences on the purely physical plane will have resonances within our own innermost being and reality, so that we actually feel the rapture of being alive.”

–Joseph Campbell

Dedication

Lance L. Mitchell

August 15, 1969 – January 1, 2009

A good friend who left us far too soon.

Chapter 1

Nineteen-year-old Trenekis Idero entered Counselor Votig Brem’s home, having been summoned minutes earlier.  Trenekis crossed the spacious central room and pushed open the wooden door separating it from the smaller bedroom further on.  Turof, one of the counselor’s caretakers, was sitting next to the man’s bed.  She greeted Trenekis as he entered.

A scratched and dented lightstick, hung horizontally from ropes, was attached to the ceiling.  The room seemed bright and cheery, in sharp contrast to what Trenekis saw laying in bed.  The counselor lay under a thin sefa blanket, his head propped up by several pillows.  The room was quiet except for the soft whirring of the fan at the end of the duct which supplied the room with fresh air.

The counselor looked much older than his fifty-six years.  Votig’s normally light brown skin had become pale over the last several weeks.  A week ago, he had become bedridden and was no longer able to carry out his normal day-to-day activities on Hiera’s small law council.

The counselor’s eyes were closed when Trenekis entered the room.  He opened them now and focused on the youth.  Tren’s shoulder-length brown hair, lightened in streaks by long hours in the twin suns, perfectly complemented his bright deep-green eyes.  An even tan covered the boy’s body.  The dark grey-brown drel skin shirt Trenekis wore was unlaced, exposing the middle of his chest and stomach.  The light down that covered Tren’s belly had only recently begun turning into a man’s darker hair.  The same soft drel skin had been fashioned into trousers as well.  Laced up the side and form-fitting, its thin leather had molded itself to his body.  His close-toed boots were laced at the top just above his ankles.

“Tren, you’re here,” Counselor Brem said.  Then to Turof, “You may leave.”  He smiled wanly at her as she pulled the door shut behind herself.

“Why did you have her leave?” Trenekis asked.  He wasn’t sure if he was going to be asked to tend to the counselor or not.

“Because I have something important to tell you.”

Trenekis took a seat on the stool Turof had just vacated.

“I have, at most, four months left,” the man told him.

Tren did his best to fight the tears.  He had known the counselor had been sick for some time now.  He had known this man his entire life.  Although not related to his family, he considered Votig his uncle.  Votig had been one of the original founders of Hiera.  The counselor had been a close friend of Tren’s father since before Tren was born.  Votig considered Trenekis the son he never had.

“But we have medicines, equipment.  There’s Bosh.  My mother can help!”

“Yes, we have all of that, Tren.  But you, of all people, know the equipment is old and worn out.  Much like me, it seems.  The med scanners are the only things that work well nowadays.  That’s how Bosh knows I’m dying.  I have tumors he can’t remove.  Your mother delivers children.  She can’t help me.  The best that can be done is to sustain my life for as long as Bosh can do so.  Then it will be over.  Perhaps it’s for the best.”

“No!  It’s not for the best,” Trenekis said, his head shaking.

Brem reached out, took Tren’s hand and squeezed it.  “I must tell you something far more important.  Check the door.”  He pointed toward it.

Tren noted that despite his sickness the man had plenty of strength left.  Perhaps he might still pull through, Tren thought.  He rose and made sure the door was firmly shut, then returned to the stool.  What could possibly be more important, he wondered.

“Who are your parents?” the man asked.

“My parents?”  Perhaps he didn’t hear the counselor correctly.

“Who are they?”

“Ayvik is my father.  Ellu is my mother.  You know that.”  Perhaps this sickness is causing him to ask stupid questions.

“Tren, they’re not your parents.”  Votig watched confusion sweep across the youth’s face.  “We swore to keep it from you.  You were just an infant when I… found you.”

“You’re ill, counselor.”

“No, Tren.  They’re not your birth parents.  They took you as theirs before you were even a year old.  I-I asked them to.  It’s the truth, Tren.  I’m sorry we’ve kept this from you.  It was for the good of the village.  But you turn twenty in five weeks.  It’s only right you were told before you reach the Age of Inclusion.  Since I was the one who found you – saved your life – I asked to be the one to tell you.”

Trenekis was stunned.  This was impossible.  His parents were his flesh and blood.  No one had ever alluded to anything else.  There were no clues to say otherwise.  No one had ever even hinted at it, least of all his mother and father.  “Why did no one ever say anything?  Ever?”

“Because of your father.  His name was Arasen Vatch.”

Alarmed, Trenekis stood, nearly knocking over the stool.  “What?”

“Him,” Votig replied, nodding.

Tren could barely breathe.  “No…”

“It’s not spoken of except by a few who are still alive who used to live in the city.  There is very little need to discuss those days.  They were filled with many painful events.  The Path Holders were ruthless.  Are ruthless.  And nearly mindless in their fanaticism to this day.”

Trenekis was overwhelmed. “W-why was I brought here?”

“I found you as we abandoned the city.  I couldn’t let an infant die.  It wasn’t until later that we determined who you were.  That’s why we kept this from you.  No one wanted you to be burdened by it, or ashamed.  Tren, you’ve turned out to be more than we could have hoped for.  Far more.”

Trenekis sat back down in stunned silence, now barely able to think.

The counselor continued.  “You know, as does everyone in the village, that Arasen ruled the city before a quake took his life,” he said as he shook his head, a far away look in his eyes.  He cast his gaze back to Trenekis almost immediately.  “You just didn’t know he was your father.  Tren, his death revealed our mistake, the mistake of following him to Ithos, of living in his city, of believing he had some sort of answer we thought was missing from our lives.  He had no answers, none at all.  That much became evident nearly the first day we gathered to give thanks that we had made it safely.

“Ironic, isn’t it?  We weren’t safe at all.  We were in more danger than we’d ever been.  Our attempt to rectify that mistake is only one reason why we’re separate from the Path Holders.  So many of us wanted to find a new way, a way that didn’t involve his misguided message.  The disaster simply provided the impetus to do something we had long wanted to do.  We didn’t know your mother had survived the disaster until much later.  The last we know, she was still alive – a Path Holder in Kelesat.”

This was the first time Tren had heard any of this.  It was almost too much to bear that his uncle was dying, but to be confronted with this!  Arasen was his father?  His birth mother was a Path Holder?  It was nearly impossible to absorb.  “I have to go,” Trenekis said.  He needed to get to Sanctuary, his place, his keep, so he could to stabilize himself and sort it all out.  He had to or he might burst.

The counselor grasped Tren’s hand.  “Trenekis, I’ve never lied to you.  Your parents have never lied to you about this either.  All of us just omitted it.  You’ve lived a good life, a life far better than you could possibly have had if you had grown up with the Path Holders.  Your parents are good people.  They’ve always been.  It was better you weren’t burdened with this.  You must believe me.”

Angry and bewildered, Trenekis pulled his hand away.

“Be good to them.  They’re not to blame.  If anyone is, I am, since I urged them to stay silent about it until it was time.  We did it for you, Tren.  For you.”

Chapter 2

The path through the scrub was easy to follow in the dusk.  After all, Trenekis had been coming to Sanctuary for years now.  Enyi, the second sun, had just set, making the horizon glow fiercely reddish.  Trenekis had his lightstick.  The casing was scratched and worn.  The depression on its side where it was activated was smooth from years of use, but its light still shone steadily.  The display showed nineteen percent power available, enough for at least eight more years of continuous use, even at full power.  Then it too would go offline and into the storage cavern with the rest of the discarded items – the cavern that was becoming more and more crowded with worn out tek.

The evening was warm, as it was year round.  Dry breezes caressed Tren’s upper body as the opened halves of his shirt flapped back and forth.  His chest didn’t glisten from sweat but rather from tears which rolled now and then off his cheeks.  He followed the trail through the short bushes, then across the wide-mouthed canyon, and finally up the series of ladders to the top of the mesa.  To Sanctuary.

At the top, a flat horizontal stone sat at the very end of the mesa.  One could sit on it and literally dangle one’s feet over the edge of the sheer vertical cliff face.  It was nearly fifty meters to the ground.  From it, he could see for dozens of kilometers across the valley floor.  Not toward Hiera but rather toward the low foothills that separated the village from the Nolont Dunes further beyond.  And beyond that, the Jaster Mountains that presented an effective barrier to parts further north.  Days beyond lay the abandoned city.

Trenekis halted a few steps from the cliff edge but didn’t sit on his flat stone.  Rather, he stood and raised his arms up to the sky, tilting his head back slightly.  As he had done so many times before, he implored the vast wide sky to bring him solace.  Standing this high above the valley, seemingly able to reach right up into the infinite blackness at night, he was a conscious point.  With his feet on solid ground and his eyes fixed upward, it was as if he was a link, a conduit to things known and unknown.  How just looking up into it did that when he was younger, he never understood.  But it was so.  Yet, as the years had passed, it was becoming more and more difficult to feel that almost magical feeling.  Tonight, this simple action brought him no solace.  Not while Counselor Brem lay dying.  Not while it had been revealed to him that he was the son of the most despised man anyone had ever spoken of.  That his very own mother was not who he thought she was.

The counselor said he was much more than they could have hoped for.  Trenekis was certain that wasn’t true, especially now.  After his Age of Inclusion ceremony, he had up to a year to wed.  He would have to take the bride his parents had chosen for him long ago.  He was sure Falla knew about him, despite his subterfuge.  Sure, he could play the game, but for the rest of his life?  He didn’t think it would be possible.  Despite the desperate bid he felt inside himself to conform to the village’s adherence to norms, he was nearing a breaking point.  He knew why those norms were there though.  The village’s population was small.  There had to be a strong ethic to grow because of their isolation.  Expanding the gene pool was paramount.  Yet, despite the fact that he was fully capable of fathering children, it didn’t feel right.  Having erotic thoughts about Falla was difficult at best.  It hadn’t prevented them from experimenting, but Tren knew he was playing a hollow game of make-believe.  After he and Falla married she would know why he didn’t want to have sex with her.  She would have no choice but to talk to Bosh about it.  Everyone else would learn the truth, including Tren’s parents.  They would have no choice but to invoke Hieran law.  He would have to produce children or be banished.

Everyone of childbearing age would grow the village.  The only way there would be no children was infertility.  Every boy and girl was told how children came into being, and scanned at puberty.  He was very aware how children were born, mainly due to his mother, who worked with Bosh as a midwife.  In addition, he had been scanned years ago.  He was fit, healthy and biologically capable of helping Falla bear children.  His family looked forward to the day when that would happen, but it was not a time he looked forward to, not at all.  Eventually, he would be turned away from the village.

There was so much he couldn’t tell anyone.  How it wasn’t Falla’s lips when they kissed, it was Keenam’s.  How it wasn’t her skin he touched, it was Keenam’s.  It wasn’t her he lay with, it was Keenan; the boy he could never truly have, because no one could take a male partner.

It didn’t matter whether Counselor Brem had cared for him his entire life, had been his surrogate uncle, and had had so many talks with him about so many important things.  Now he knew why the man had taken such an intense interest in him.  He was watching out for me because I’m Arasen Vatch’s son!

The city hadn’t been visited by anyone for a very long time.  The whispered conversations he’d heard about it told him that it was nearly a kilometer across and surrounded by a high wall.  The city was once full of medicines that were far better than anything they had concocted from the plants and other materials around Hiera; with new tek that far exceeded anything they had left.

It didn’t matter what he had just learned.  It didn’t matter that the man he loved as if he were family had never told him this ugly truth.  He couldn’t just let Counselor Brem die.  Not without trying to stop it.  Not without breaking the long silence about the city to see for himself if anything was left, anything that might be helpful for the man who… saved his life.  Maybe, just maybe, such a selfless act would prevent him from being banished.  Maybe he could implore the counselor to make an exception for him.  It was a long shot, but he had to try.  Yet, he couldn’t do it alone.  He needed help.  And there was only one person he would even think to ask: Keenam.

*

Fifteen-year-old Trenekis Idero and sixteen-year-old Keenam Rethla rounded the wide boulder and turned to the right.  The trail of nertic bushes, with their spiky orange and red leaves, and twisted purple bark, was starting to peter out as they walked along.  Before them was a wide canyon with a flat sandy bottom.  Keenam had only occasionally come this way.  That’s because hardly any animals worth hunting made their home in this environment.

“What are you making me for my birthday?” Tren asked as they walked.  He would be sixteen in twenty-one days.

“For the second time, nothing,” Keenam told him.

Trenekis grinned.

The canyon walls were perhaps thirty meters high.  Made of arkose sandstone, its reddish hue was a variation of Keenam’s dark red hair color.  “Which way now?”

Trenekis pointed.  “That way.”  Although they were at the mouth of the canyon where it was easily ten meters wide, the wind funneled toward them.  It momentarily whipped Keenam’s hair into a frenzy before dying down to a soft caress.  But the frenetic air had merely climbed inside Tren’s head.  There, it nestled.  Lurked.

Keenam’s shirt was unbuttoned.  Trenekis forced himself to look away from the stocky boy’s chest, now completely exposed because of the wind gusts.  He had to keep his eyes from the considerable bulge in Keenam’s tight drel skin trousers, away from Keenam’s peach-fuzzed face, the flawless jaw.  Trenekis gulped, hoping the intense feelings it was creating inside him would dissipate, relinquish control, and let him breathe again.

They did not.

The boys continued for several dozen meters more.  The canyon veered to the left.  They walked another twenty meters.  Trenekis stopped two meters from the cliff face by a crack in the wall.

“Now what?”  Keenam asked.

“We go in.”

“In?”

“Through here,” Trenekis said as he tugged on Keenam’s hand.

If not for the hour and the fact that the suns were casting their double shadows at just the right angle, Keenam would never have seen the opening.  He leaned forward and peered in.  His sharp eye told him that an ancient watery cascade, or a series of them, had carved the crack into the canyon wall.  There was nothing unusual about that.  But this one was a narrow slot canyon that wended its way deep into the wall of partially lithified sandstone.  The slot went inward as well as all the way to the sky and was wide enough for them to traverse.  Tren led Keenam left, then right, another right, then straight ahead.  As they made their way into the slot, they became enveloped in shadows.  Finally, they came to a dead end.

“Where did this come from?”  Keenam asked as he placed his hand on a post.  It was crossed every half-meter with a lashed piece of phalwood.

“I made it.  There are six of them that take you all the way to the top of the mesa.  I named this Ladder Canyon.”

Keenam’s face brightened with a snow white row of teeth.  Trenekis nearly told Keenam he should never do that without first warning him.  Just about every time he smiled it seemed like an invitation to kiss him.

Without another moment’s hesitation, Keenam started to climb.  In seconds, he was standing on a flat ledge several meters up.  He looked down at Trenekis.  Trenekis looked up.  Keenam’s rusty locks framed his face; his hands on his hips, legs spread slightly apart.  Trenekis prevented himself from staring where those legs came together.

The top of the pole was lashed by a rope to a stake to keep it in place. Trenekis was up and at the stake moments later, grasped it and hoisted himself up next to Keenam.  His heart was beating fast.  His chest heaved in great breaths despite the oxygen-saturated atmosphere.  Tren looked down.  They were leaving Hiera behind.  He and Keenam were becoming more and more alone.  Together.  Just as Tren planned it.

“Five more of these ladders to go,” Trenekis told him.  This time he took the lead as they continued in a horizontal direction to the left, then to the left again.  Some of the ladders were longer.  Some were shorter.  At each level, the slot went further into the mesa.  They were getting closer to the sky, too.  Minutes later they were at the very top.

“Who else comes up here?” Keenam asked.

“No one.  It’s my sanctuary.”  Sanctuaries are only for important people, Trenekis thought.  That’s why you’re here with me.

They reached the very edge of the mesa and gazed out over the valley.  The Nolont Dunes were visible from up here.  The Jaster mountain range was at the horizon further on.  Adrenaline surging through Trenekis delayed him catching his breath, although they were standing still now.  It was impossible to tell Keenam what he felt.  They had been friends since he could remember and he had tried.  But he didn’t have the right words.  Somehow, the trying was going to come to an end today.

Tren looked out toward the mountains, keeping his attention far away, lest he completely lose control.

Keenam approached from behind, then placed his hands on Tren’s shoulders.  He drew himself closer and ever so gently kissed Tren’s cheek.

Startled, Tren’s focus snapped back to the pinpoint of quickly drying wetness.  He whirled around.  Keenam raised his hands up then dropped them back down on Tren’s shoulders.  They stood face-to-face, out in the open, far above the valley, at the top of the mesa. Trembling with equal measures of hope and fear, Tren placed his hands on Keenam’s hips.  Tentative.  Unsure of himself.  Without hesitation, Keenam kissed Tren full on the mouth.

What seemed like an electric charge ran through Tren’s body as his penis swelled.  He pressed against the hardness that graced the front of Keenam’s trousers.  They rubbed up and down, holding onto each other buttocks, unable to control themselves.  Slowly at first, then picking up the pace, Tren quickly found himself lost with desire.  He could no longer catch his breath.  His eyelids fluttered.  The explosive power of his orgasm caught him by surprise.  Tren’s moans reverberated against Keenam’s chest.

Both still breathing hard, Keenam turned Trenekis around, slipped his penis out of his trousers, pulled Tren’s down to the boy’s ankles, and slid himself up and down, pressing himself against the cleft of Tren’s butt cheeks.  Not more than ten seconds later Keenam cried out multiple times, as if he were hurt.  But Trenekis knew otherwise.

Once his orgasm faded, Keenam used his fingers to scoop up the sticky streaks and flick them away.  With most of it gone, he wiped the rest of it away until only dry crusts remained on the fine white hairs of Tren’s lower back.  Still hard, Keenam turned Trenekis back around.  Tren’s penis pointed up at him.  Keenam pulled Tren’s pants up, attempting to scoop up the mess inside the boy’s trousers and flick it away.  Tren held the waistband as Keenam retrieved his canteen, opened it and poured a bit into his hand.  He wiped the inside of Tren’s pants several times.  It would take a good washing to remove all of it.

“Uh...,” Trenekis started after Keenam was done.  He hadn’t said a word so far, still amazed at what had just taken place.

“You wanted to,” Keenam said, with a failed attempt at innocence.

“No one can know,” Trenekis told him, a flicker of fear in his voice.

Keenam’s eyes narrowed as he shook his head.  “Of course not,” he said matter-of-factly.

His trousers were still at his ankles.  He turned and peed, sending a loud stream into a meddeti bush.  Trenekis did the same, then wiped more of the wetness from the inside of his trousers.  It wasn’t going to be a pleasant walk back.  Their erections now mostly gone, they managed to stuff themselves back in to their trousers.

“It was fun, right?”  Keenam said.  Half-question, half-statement.

Tren’s covert reason for bringing Keenam up here had backfired.  “I...,” Trenekis started.  He grasped Keenam’s bicep.  He didn’t know how to answer that question.  He only knew there was a need fulfilled.  A seam stitched together.  A chasm crossed.  One he had intended to cross if Keenam hadn’t pre-empted him, circled around and delivered his plan literally into his lap.  If only he had been the bold one and taken the lead.  But Keenam had lain in wait and pounced instead, the hunter that he was.

“No one will know when it happens again,” Keenam told him probingly.

Trenekis sucked in a surprised breath.  ‘When it happens again!’  Joy superseded fear in that instant.  “Only us,” Trenekis responded, nodding his head rapidly.  He hugged Keenam almost with violence, unable to withhold an upwelling of glee, of insane happiness.  Keenam hugged back with equal strength.  They held on to each other as the intimacy they shared only moments ago rewove their friendship into something new, until Tren reclaimed the equilibrium that had balanced them forever.  “We’ve always been friends,” Trenekis said at a whisper, his chin resting on Keenam’s shoulder.

Keenam pulled back and looked Tren right in the eye.  There was a mischievous look to his grin.  “And we always will be,” he told Tren with a solid presence, an emphatic nod, a promise.

They were halfway back to Hiera when Trenekis realized he had received an early birthday present.  Keenam had planned it all along.

*

Trenekis climbed down from Sanctuary and marched fiercely back home.  His mother and sister were in the great room, his father was in the kitchen.  As Tren was wont to do, he demanded an audience with his parents.  He told them he planned to go to the city to find remnants of tek.

Tren’s mother shook her head.  “I won’t permit it.”

“And I will not permit it,” his father repeated.  “There’s nothing left in the city.  You will not go there.”

Tren merely wanted to test his resolve and theirs.  He had yet to tell them the reason he was going.  “Have you not taught me to value questions?  To always ask why and never accept anything that doesn’t follow reason?”

“What has that to do with this issue?”

“Why did you never tell me the truth about my past.”  Tren’s words were filled with such hurt it was palpable.

There was a desperate silence in the great room that served as their family den.  His sister Zenna, younger by three years, was on the large plush couch.  She drew her knees up to her chest, then wrapped her arms around them as if to ward off the intensity of Tren’s angry words.  It wasn’t unlike him to have such outbursts, but she hadn’t seen him this emotional for quite some time.

“What do you know of that?” Ayvik asked, unsure of what Tren was actually saying.

“Counselor Brem told me who I am.”

Ellu quickly grasped her husband’s hand.  “He told you.”

Trenekis nodded his head, his mouth tight.

Ayvik stood taller and glanced at his wife.  “Then he also told you why we never did.”

Zenna looked confused now.  “Told him what?”  Trenekis looked at her.  “Told you what, Tren?”

He glanced over at her then back to his parents.  “That you’re not my sister.”

Ellu’s response was swift.  “There will be no talk like that in this house,” she said angrily.  “Zenna is your sister as much as you are our son.”

“I am Arasen’s son,” he told her, pointing to his chest.

“No!” Zenna exclaimed.  She knew that name, as did everyone.

Trenekis looked at her.  “The very same.”

“Trenekis, you will sit at our table,” his father demanded, directed, with the weight of his will, with the raw power of his voice.  “My… son will sit at our table.”  His chin trembled a little.  He often wondered what he would feel when this day arrived.  Now he knew.

At first, Trenekis refused.  He hurt like no other time in his life.  But his mother looked at him, silently, staring into his eyes.  Pleading with... her son.  So, they sat.

Ellu poured water from a pitcher into tall glasses.  The family talked.  The wind gusted now and then against the door that held back the growing night.  His mother held her son’s hands across the table where they had eaten thousands of meals together, laughed together, and where endless love had been given and received, like this moment.

His hurt feelings were exposed one by one.  Several tears dropped to the tabletop – his tears.  The explanation of that desperate decision made years ago was given out in measured doses, and the story of how he had been found was told in great detail.  Ellu’s acceptance of the infant she adopted was made clear.  As Tren’s panicked breathing gave way to calm, he finally understood their reasoning, at least as much as he could do so right now.

Nothing had changed in the warm round room.  Trenekis knew – knew – he was the son of Ayvik and Ellu.  His sister was Zenna.  Love was not in short supply here.  It had never been in short supply.  Even now.  Even though Trenekis felt he had been betrayed.  But that feeling of betrayal was not true.  Counselor Brem could only be accused of an omission, as he himself had said.  His parents could only be accused of it, too.

There was a long silence.  Zenna had fallen asleep on the couch.  The lightstick that hung from the ceiling above the table made the room glow softly.  A glow that felt as warm as the love his parents still held for him, and he felt for them.

“You must let me go,” Trenekis told his father.  “There may be something that might help him.  There must be dozens of things still left there.  Maybe-maybe a medbot still asleep or-or hidden away.  Instruments.  Anything.”

His father and mother looked at each other.  Ayvik already knew that no matter how strongly he objected, Trenekis would go anyway.  He stood.  Trenekis stood, too.  Ayvik rounded the table and hugged his son.  He held Tren tightly, stroking his hair.  Tears welled in his eyes.  Trenekis hugged back, basking in the man’s strength.  The strength and love of the only father he’d ever actually known.

“You’re nearly the Age of Inclusion.  I can’t keep you from doing anything you will do anyway.  Even if I threatened you with reprimand by the counselors you would find a way to go.  You must know you’ll be heading into danger.  Path Holders may still roam there.”

“I won’t be going alone.  Tomorrow, I’m asking Keenam to help me.”

*

It was break time at school.  Eighteen boys and twenty girls were busy pairing up, trebling; laughing, giggling, sneaking glances, trading jokes, jibes, gossip.

Sixteen-year-old Keenam peeled off from a swarm of boys and found Trenekis.  “Come with me.”

“Where?”

“A hunt, of course.”  It was something Keenam was painfully aware that his friend had little interest in.

“How about Ladder Canyon instead.”  Trenekis deliberately draped his words under layers of innocence, carefully removed from any hope of a repeat of three days ago.  They hadn’t said a word about it to each other.

“Dhalkens don’t live there.”

Trenekis shook his head.  “You’re the hunter.”  His words were no longer innocent but rather laced with exasperation.

“I know you like roasted dhalken,” Keenam urged.  He was also painfully aware that Trenekis could sometimes be totally dense.

Trenekis had his back against the outside wall of the school hut.  Keenam placed his hand against one of the wall beams as he leaned into Tren’s space.  The aroma of his armpit bloomed.  Like an animal, Trenekis caught Keenam’s scent and involuntarily breathed in deeply, with relish.  He was captured.  There was no way out of Keenam’s trap.  His heartbeat intensified.  Unable to stop himself, the word spilled out of his mouth.  “When?”

That was easy, Keenam thought, wondering what had changed Tren’s mind all the sudden.  “After school,” he said with a curiously satisfied look.

Two hours.  An eternity.

Tren fought with himself as they exited the south trail out of Lancel Canyon onto the edge of the plain.  He desperately wanted to say something to Keenam about what happened those short days ago, but Keenam seemed as if he had no time to discuss it.  Only the hunt was on his mind.  There were dhalkens to find.  Small, skittish, yet with plenty of juicy meat on them, they were creatures of the forest.  They were also quite tasty.  Tren’s mouth watered at the thought.  He didn’t care to hunt them but he certainly enjoyed eating them.

They followed the creek, then bypassed the dam, heading for the forest.  Soon trees closed in, shading both Belat and Enyi’s light just enough to reduce the heat of the day.

“Stop,” Keenam commanded.  Tren stopped dead in his tracks, thinking Keenam had spotted something.

Keenam put his hands on Tren’s shoulders and guided him to the closest tree trunk.  There, he turned Tren around and gently pressed his back against it.  He smiled, then kissed Tren in the most tender way he could muster.  It wasn’t exactly his style.  Keenam was a bit clumsy.

Tren’s heart pounded.  His palms grew sweaty.  He felt as if his head would explode as he kissed back.

Keenam’s hand went to Tren’s hair.  Fingers explored the back of his head.  Tren did the same to Keenam.  Keenam pressed his mouth even harder against Tren’s.  He stopped and drew himself back.  “Whew!” he said with a huge smile.  He reached down and adjusted an obvious erection.

Trenekis was unable to utter much more than a loud exhale.  He reached out, took Keenam and hugged him, not believing the surge of feelings spilling out of him; enjoying the swelling in his own pants.

“Was it fun?”  Keenam asked when Trenekis released him.

“Fun?”

Keenam looked into the branches behind Trenekis, ignoring the reply.  He pressed an index finger to his lips, then extended his hand, palm down.  Trenekis didn’t look back.  Instead, he dropped to his haunches.  Keenam’s bulging erection, outlined behind thin drel skin trousers, was mere centimeters from his face.  Inexorably drawn toward it, Tren reached up.

Slowly, Keenam retrieved the bow from across his back, an arrow from the quiver, strung it, aimed, and fired.  He missed.  It was impossible to concentrate.  His heart was pounding far too hard.  “Arrrgh!” he exclaimed.  Now he had to recover the arrow.  He started ahead, skirting a thicket in his path.

Trenekis was still sitting on his heels.  He had almost reached far enough to touch Keenam’s crotch.  “Wait!”

Keenam didn’t look back.  Instead, he beckoned Trenekis with a flutter of his hand.

Trenekis caught up.  “What are you doing?”

“Dhalken,” Keenam said matter-of-factly.

“Stop it with the dhalkens,” Trenekis told him.  He took Keenam’s arm and pulled him to a stop.  “Why did you kiss me?”

“Because I wanted to.”  Keenam took Tren’s hand and pulled him along a slightly perceptible trail.  Off to the left behind some low bushes, the stump of a norit tree stood alone behind a boulder.  It had been cut down long ago for use in the village.  Keenam continued to pull Trenekis along, then sat on the edge of the circular gray trunk.  He removed the bow and quiver from his shoulder and laid them next to the stump.  He quickly shed his shirt and tossed it at Tren.  “Take yours off,” he said excitedly.

Listening for anything that might spell disaster, Tren quickly pulled the cord that laced up the front of his shirt, then pulled it over his head.  He let it drop on top of Keenam’s.

It was difficult for Trenekis to keep his breath steady as Keenam directed his actions.  Keenam spread his legs slightly and pointed.  Sit on my lap, facing me, he pantomimed.

Trenekis straddled him and was immediately engulfed in Keenam’s arms.  The kisses were fast and furious.  Keenam seemed on fire.  His warm hands were all over Tren’s shoulders, arms, back, his crotch, his thighs.  Tren did the same.  It was impossible to stop himself.  Keenam refused to stop for even a moment as he took the lace that held Tren’s fly together.  He pulled it, then spread the laces apart.  Tren’s upturned penis popped out.  The excitement surging through him, threatened to burn Tren’s entire body to ash.

Keenam pulled and tugged before abruptly stopping.  He pushed Trenekis backward.  Get up, he meant.  Trenekis stood as Keenam unlaced the tops of Tren’s boots, pulled them off, and in seconds had the boy’s trousers at his feet.  Tren stepped out of them.  He looked left, right, behind himself, keenly aware of each and every forest sound.  He was terrified they’d be caught, now that he was standing barefoot on his trousers, his penis pointing toward the sky.

Keenam quickly shed his own trousers and sat back down on the stump.  Both butt naked now, he pulled Tren close.  His hands around the globes of Tren’s buttocks, he made Tren impale his mouth.  Tren sucked in a shocked breath as Keenam pulled Tren’s hips back and forth, sucking, slurping and trying his best to keep his teeth from scraping the sensitive skin of Tren’s rock hard penis.

Tren clutched the back of Keenam’s head, oblivious to everything except sixteen and a half centimeters of his body.  Keenam wrapped his thumb and index finger around Tren’s balls, trying to prevent them from pulling up too high.

Without warning Keenam stopped, pulled back, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.  Tren’s heart rate was hypersonic, his breath nearly impossible to catch.

Keenam scooted himself back on the stump and opened his legs.  He directed Tren to sit on his thighs facing him again.  Still breathing hard, Tren sat, gazing down at Keenam’s skyward-pointing penis, marveling at how beautiful it looked.

Keenam took Tren’s penis and started stroking.  He refused to stop.  Tren’s come jettisoned onto Keenam’s chest and abdomen.  Keenam kept going even after Tren’s loud cries died out.  Tren had to stop him.

Keenam scooped up the white goo, then spat into his palm.  He clamped his hand around his own aching penis and smeared it all over.  With his other hand, he gently pushed Tren back to get him off his thighs.  Wobbly-legged, Tren backed up and stood.  His penis refused to deflate.  Semen oozed down the shaft.

With his hand still on his penis, Keenam directed Tren to bend over and place his hands on the stump.  Trenekis complied, not caring what Keenam had in mind, knowing precisely what was next.

Keenam spat into his palm again, smeared some of it between Tren’s buttocks, poked his finger in a few times, then slowly pushed his penis inward.  Tren gasped in shocked pain, which turned into extreme pleasure once he felt Keenam’s pubic hair against his skin.  Keenam held onto Tren’s slim waist as he started bucking back and forth slowly at first, then quickly upped the tempo.  He cried out mere seconds later.  Trenekis counted nine cries from Keenam’s mouth, the most rapturous sounds he’d ever heard.

Keenam kept himself inside Tren, as if not wanting the experience to leave him, his breath heaving, his legs wobbling.  Tren eventually reached back and pushed Keenam away.  Tren turned around, observing Keenam’s slick penis still pointing north.  Tren’s still pulsated at attention as well.  Keenam’s face was shiny from sweat.  He was still breathing like he had just finished running a marathon.

“Sorry it was so... fast,” Keenam said between gulps of air.  “I couldn’t help it.”

Trenekis felt terribly vulnerable now.  It was over and they were completely naked, with sticky evidence of what just took place obvious all over both of them.  Keenam looked up at Tren’s face, then back down at the boy’s still-hard penis.  The quiet forest sounds were a serenade for their final moments of rushed intimacy.

Keenam was a mess.  The front of his body was covered with long streaks of Tren’s now-liquefied semen.  His penis was slick and shiny.  His hands were covered in saliva and semen.  Tren poured some water from his canteen onto his hands, then wiped Keenam’s chest.  When he got to Keenam’s penis, he grasped it.  Keenam flinched.  “It’s sensitive.”  Tren held on to it, admiring it instead.  It refused to deflate.

Finally, both as cleaned up as they could muster, Keenam wiped his forehead with the side of his hand.  “Whew!” he said as he sat on the stump.

Trenekis sat next to Keenam in the sunlight.  Twin shadows danced over his skin.  His penis refused to call it quits.  Tren looked down at himself and grinned.  He looked over at Keenam’s penis.  His, too, still pulsed at attention.  “I thought we were going hunting,” Tren told him.

“You’re the smartest person I know, but the dumbest, too,” Keenam replied.

Leaning back in the dappled sunlight, Trenekis was suddenly taken by how he had no desire to even reach for his clothing yet.  “You were hunting me,” Trenekis said, surprised at his sudden revelation of the obvious.

Keenam chuckled, stood and faced his friend.  His penis was only now beginning to fall over.  He squeezed out the last bit of semen, licked it from his finger, then seductively looked at Trenekis as he pulled his trousers back on, pulled his penis back in, laced his trousers back up, then pulled his shirt on.  He did all of it with slow deliberate purpose, enjoying being watched.

Trenekis was mesmerized at the show.  Keenam had always been bold, but this was something entirely new.  A sudden shiver racked his body, which made his penis, at last, fall over.  It was time for him to get dressed; for Keenam to kill a dhalken so no one would even have an inkling of what had taken place here.

Trenekis picked up his clothing, shook off the detritus, and placed his trousers on the stump.  His shirt was first.  Just as he got it over his face, he felt hands envelop him.  Keenam was behind Tren, his hidden penis already half-hard again as he pressed against Tren’s bare buttocks, his arms wrapping around Tren’s chest.  There, he lingered as he pinched the boy’s nipples, which electrified him, making him hard again.  Keenam pulled the shirt down for him and kissed the back of Tren’s neck.  “It might happen again,” he whispered.

Tren only nodded as he placed his hands on top of Keenam’s, unable to speak, defenseless against powerful unfamiliar emotions surging through him.

Keenam let go as quickly as he had taken Tren, picked up the quiver and slung it over his shoulder.  The bow was next.  He walked away, further into the forest, as if nothing had happened.

Keenam’s action was so abrupt that Trenekis gasped.  “Where are you going?”

“My arrow,” Keenam told him.  “Get dressed.”

It was difficult for Tren to lace his trousers up because his penis refused to get out of the way.

Chapter 3

Trenekis awoke as soon as the sliver of sky above the canyon started glowing with early dawn light.  He quietly ate a light meal, then took his clothing and kit bag and headed to the bath area that served the five families closest to their home.  Despite plumbing inside their homes becoming more common as time went on, bathing facilities were still communal.  Early on, such facilities had been well-built and elaborately appointed.  They bore an opulence unmatched by most other public facilities Hierans had grown to enjoy.

Whereas the boys were always attempting to peek at girls in the adjacent shower buildings, Trenekis never did.  He was much more comfortable being in the presence of half-naked or fully-naked boys.  Trenekis had had that opportunity since he could remember.  It was only natural, Ayvik had told him when he was twelve, to sometimes get an erection in the showers, when it first happened to him.  Hormones were difficult to control as puberty worked its power to force boys into manhood.  He knew it.  All the men knew it.  It was nothing to be ashamed of.  Trenekis was only ashamed when, at thirteen, he realized it wasn’t accidental anymore.  Especially when Keenam was nearby.  Today, there were only two other men at the far end of the large semi-open shower.  Keenam, now that he was married, was no longer part of their shower group.  He lived further away now.  Tren quickly finished, cleaned up behind himself and left.

At the extreme southern end of Hiera was Jalteb Rethla’s glassmaking shop.  His shop was adjacent to a metalworking shop.  The pottery-making shop was next to it.  Further down were the woodworking shops and several cloth weaving rooms.  Lots of activity took place here where the relatively narrow canyon widened considerably.  The open area at the mouth of the canyon was used for finished products as they were set out in the sun, covered by pergolas, or placed in storage for future consumption.  Its location also prevented smoke, ash and other noxious fumes from permeating the otherwise clear village air.  The remnants of the old tek had provided the starting points for these low tek industries.

Twenty-year-old Keenam Rethla worked with his father Jalteb.  Keenam, now past the Age of Inclusion, had married three months ago.  Keenam and his wife Meretesh had secretly started working on children weeks before they were married.  Meretesh was recently announced to be with child.  All pregnancies were made public once they were confirmed by Bosh.

Jalteb’s shop held six workers.  It was quite noisy here, with the ironworkers banging out pieces of metal next door, the pottery wheels sometimes squeaking across the open area to the left, the flames of the glass furnace flaring up, and the two drab and dented haulbots, used by all the shops in common, dropping loads of raw materials in various holding areas, and taking finished goods away when necessary.

Trenekis yawned again.  It was still early and he had eaten only two caracasis nuts.  Usually he needed four to be wide awake.  He felt around in his pocket for a third.  Finding it, he quickly popped it into his mouth and bit down.  Its bitter taste, yet creamy texture, always hit the spot.

There he was.  Every time Trenekis saw the dark red hair, now longer than Keenam used to keep it, the intense blue eyes, the tanned freckled skin and the firm muscles of his friend, his pulse quickened.  If only desire could be quashed.  If only memories were capable of being excised.

*

It had rained the night before, a slow, unsteady rain, like always.  There was enough to collect in a bowl-shaped area of solid rock at the top of the mesa, several centimeters deep.  The now-drying rivulet that had spilled over the edge of the cliff proved it had rained quite hard up here.  The water was serving its purpose right now.  Trenekis and Keenam had shed their clothing and were standing facing each other in the middle of the two-meter wide depression.  The water just covered the tops of both of their feet.

“How’s your finger,” sixteen-year-old Trenekis asked.  He was sure Keenam’s nail was going to turn black.

Keenam held his hand up.  It was still a bit red, but not nearly as bad as when the pole had landed on it.  “Still hurts.  Maybe I shouldn’t have helped you after all.”

Trenekis grinned.  The single poles with the crossbeams that led them to the top of the mesa were a ridiculous idea, Keenam had told him.  They worked, but since they had both been climbing up here a lot recently, the crossbeams were no longer staying horizontal.  They needed proper ladders.  It had taken days to collect the wood, cut the leather straps, and fashion the pegs.  It had taken five hours of continuous work to put the ladders together.  Both were exhausted and covered with dust and salt.

Keenam bent backward slightly as Trenekis scooped some water into his hands.  Tren poured it on Keenam’s throat.  He did it twice more.  Keenam did the same to Trenekis.  After they were dripping wet they wiped each other down.  Tren didn’t even try to prevent himself from becoming hard.  Indeed, that was the other reason for doing this.  Getting clean was only an excuse for getting naked again and another opportunity to feel each other up.  Keenam kept rubbing his fingers between the Tren’s buttocks more and more often as if trying to find that last bit of dust and grime to loosen.  He wasn’t trying to be subtle about it.  Trenekis was all smiles.  He grasped Keenam as Keenam rubbed.  Trenekis pulled and tugged on Keenam’s upturned penis.  Keenam did the same to Trenekis.  Within minutes, both were catching their breath as their semen splashed in long urgent spurts into the water.  Clean now, inside and out.  That was the second time for them today.  This time though they had finished their task before stopping to play.  The sefa-stuffed pad beckoned.  It had been covered by an oiled cloth and was dry.  They had made it, brought it up to Sanctuary two months ago; and it had served its purpose many times.

An hour later, the clouds that had softened the daylight all day today were moving off.  The sky was starting to empty.  The boys were on their backs.  Tren’s fingers were laced underneath the back of his head, as he stared into the darkening vault.  It felt like he was waiting for something to happen, but what?  Tren could go on for hours like that.  Keenam couldn’t.  He always felt filled with primal energy that needed discharge.  Trenekis could stare and ponder for hours, especially at the night sky.  Even tired, like he was now, Keenam felt the need to do something, even if it was only to fiddle with his genitals.  Tren glanced over at him doing that but took no interest in participating.  That was odd, Keenam noted.  Here he was hard again and Tren wasn’t making a move.  He shook his head.  It was difficult to get inside that boy’s head at times.

The first stars started to appear.  Near the horizon the last of the day’s clouds were slipping away, chasing the last setting sun.

“Have you ever dreamed you were flying?” Tren asked from his long silence.

“Flying?”

“Like you have huge wings and can soar for hours like an avorina.”

“You always amaze me.  Every time I think I’ve figured you out you come up with something new.”

Tren looked over at Keenam.  “You haven’t?”

“I hardly ever remember my dreams.”

“Twice now I’ve found myself outside of my body.  But they weren’t dreams.  I saw myself sleeping.”

Keenam momentarily touched Tren’s face.  He was listening but he also felt horny again.  “And?”

“Both times I flew up here.”

“Flew?” Keenam asked, incredulous.

Tren nodded.  “When I got here I came down right over there.  Then I jumped off the mesa and flew way up into the sky.”

“Even I know you’re not going to go up if you jump, Tren.”

“But I wasn’t in my body.  I didn’t have any weight.  I went to the very edge,” he said as he pointed, “and jumped.  I kept going up as high as I could go.  I almost made it into space, Keenam.  Almost.  But I couldn’t figure out how to do it.”

Keenam studied Tren’s face.  As always, Tren was serious.  “Something tells me you’ll figure out how to do it,” Keenam told him.  “If you do, let me know, okay?”

Tren reached out and placed a palm on Keenam’s chest, feeling the contour of the boy’s pecs briefly.  “Really?”  He knew Keenam was far more practical than that.

“Why not?  If you can learn how to fly, you can figure out how to go into space, even if it’s only a... dream.  That would be different.  Just like you, Tren.  Different.”

“In a good way, right?”

Keenam looked directly into the eyes, then reached over his head to get his trousers.  He regretted having to get dressed, but it was going to be totally dark if they didn’t start heading back.  “Always in a good way,” he replied.  He gave Tren a quick kiss then pulled Tren’s trousers toward him.  With a sigh, Tren took them, stood and started dressing, too.

*

“Tren,” Keenam said upon seeing him in the glass shop.  Keenam issued a wide smile, the one that Trenekis was ever fond of.  Keenam’s dark fire-red locks glistened with sweat at his scalp.

Tren had decided he liked Keenam’s hair longer.  It had taken him a while to get used to it because it had always been far shorter in the past.  Was there any way Keenam could actually wear his hair that Tren wouldn’t like?  He found that a hard question to answer.  “Hey,” he replied.

“What’s up?”

“I have something important to tell you.”

“How important?”

“More important than what you’re doing right now.”  Tren motioned for Keenam to exit the shop.

“Let me tell my dad I’m taking a break.”  Moments later he returned and they quickly went out the back way into the wide flat finished goods area.  Two people were tallying a stack of items at the far end.  The boys avoided going that way.

“Okay, what’s so important that it couldn’t wait until the end of the day?”  Keenam asked.

“Remember when I told you that one day I would take you on an adventure that would make all other adventures seem like nothing?”

Keenam chuckled.  “Yeah.”

“Well that adventure is here.”

“That was a game, Tren.”

Trenekis shook his head, dismissing Keenam’s rebuttal.  “I’m going to the city.  And you’re coming with me.”

“The-the city?”  Keenam studied Tren’s face.  “You’re not joking.”

“I’m not.”

“I’m going with you,” Keenam stated.

Trenekis nodded.

“What makes you think that?”

“Because I need you.”  With that, he explained how Counselor Brem had only months to live, and how he had been given the okay by his parents to go to the city to see if there was anything – anything – that might be helpful in curing him.

“Second Harvest is only a few weeks away.”

“We’ll be back in plenty of time to help.”

“You know Meretesh is pregnant.”

“So.”

“Being a father isn’t a game.”

“Trying to save Counselor Brem isn’t a game either.  Look, I can’t do this alone.  You’re the best tracker in the village.  Both of us know that.  I know the sky like no one else.  We’ll be able to get there and back together.”

Keenam was well aware that Trenekis had virtually memorized the annual sky.  Tren knew almost to the minute when each sun would rise and set for both seasons.  He had made data tables.  Lots of them.  He knew within a week when to start planting for optimum timing of crops.  He knew when first and second harvest should occur.  He knew when each of the four moons would rise and set.  Tren could determine north as soon as it was dark enough to see only three stars no matter what time of year it was.  Yes, Tren knew the sky like no one else.

“Why can’t the other counselors go?  All of them lived there.  They know where it is and where to look.  We’ve never been near there.”

“I’ll tell you why later.”

“Tell me now.”

“I owe him.  None of the other counselors owe him like I do.”

Keenam’s brow knitted.  He had never heard Tren sound so urgent, or this cryptic.  “You owe him?”

“Trust me.”

There was a moment where both were silent.  Trenekis was at best only three-quarters of a centimeter shorter than Keenam now.  They stared virtually eye-to-eye at each other.

“You are serious.”

Trenekis nodded.  “He needs me… us.”

Keenam looked back at the shop.  He bit his lip, hesitated, looked down uncomfortably, then nodded his head and looked up at Trenekis.  “Okay.  When?”

“Day after tomorrow.”

“What!”

“He’s dying.”

Keenam shook his head, then angrily kicked the ground, which raised a puff of dust and sand.  “My dad’s not going to like this at all, much less my wife.”

*

Sixteen-year-old Trenekis and seventeen-year-old Keenam sat cross-legged on the sefa pad.  Their shirts were spread out across the boulder behind them, their bare backs against it, their trousers still mysteriously on and completely laced up.  Trenekis insisted that Keenam look out at the night sky.  It was difficult for Keenam to keep his attention at what appeared to be nothing more than blackness littered with random stars.

“Belat circles Enyi, but Enyi also circles Belat,” Trenekis told him.  “I don’t get how yet, but that’s what they do.  And The Eye circles them both, but much further away.  That’s why it hasn’t set yet.”  He pointed to the red pinpoint above the horizon.

“Okay,” Keenam said, not sure why he needed to know that.

“I’ve been watching them for months.”  He pulled the vidpad toward them.  He had been making tables of when everything rose and set, then had the vidpad create graphs.  He showed Keenam.

Keenam looked at them, but nearly instantly gave up trying to figure out what he was supposed to do with that information.  That kind of pursuit was for Trenekis.  A different type of pursuit ran in Keenam’s blood.

The vidpad’s display was scratched more than he cared for, but Tren insisted on keeping it.  It was the one Counselor Brem had given him.  The storage module still called up and saved files.  It hadn’t become sluggish like some of the others had, the ones that had far better displays.  It had mountains of data in it he still hadn’t started sifting through yet.  Now he was adding to that mountain.  After all, the power supply still energized.  It said it had fifteen percent reserve left.  It was enough power for at least another five years, Tren figured.

For months, he’d been plotting the times when the four moons were in the sky, when Belat, Enyi and The Eye set and sometimes rose as well.  He had also noted when their two suns occulted each other and brought somewhat cooler temperatures for a few days.  Chores were far too taxing to make proper and detailed observations in the morning.  Plus, it was nearly impossible to do so from the bottom of Lancel canyon.  So, with just his evening observations it was finally starting to make sense now how their suns and moons orbited, what they did, how they moved.  Why no one had ever bothered to do this before was beyond him.

As usual, events were coalescing in Tren’s head.  Pictures of an imagined past flashed by as if he was watching disparate scenes of a play transform into a coherent whole.  Perhaps twenty years ago when Hiera was first established, and with only a narrow stretch of sky above them, there was far too much work to do to stop and record observations.  The priority was to make sure people were fed, shelters were built, and facilities set up.  Who had time to bother with things like casually observing the sky?  Yet, that’s all it was.  Simple observation.  Just note the time.  Then watch the trend.  However, despite watching, as he had for a while now, much of what he was recording was still elusive.  Extremely complicated math was involved here.  The dance of the suns and the moons were mocking him, daring him to understand their choreography.  Maybe if he built the telescope he read about in one of the files in the vidpad, it would make more sense.  There were only two files he had found that described how to build a primitive one.  The majority of what was described taxed the limit of his youthful understanding of such instruments, but the basics were clear.  It had  lenses, a tube, and a way of gathering and focusing light.  As he thought about the concept, it made sense.  The only problem was that using imperfect and improperly ground glass would create what he learned was called chromatic and spherical aberration.  The creation of a telescope that could minimize such aberrations was daunting.  He would have to make sure the glass was as perfect as any ever made in Hiera.

“I think I figured out how Belat and Enyi go around,” Trenekis said.  “There’s some sort of tether that keeps them together.  They’re traveling around some central part of that tether.  I don’t know how, but that’s got to be it.”

“Gravity,” Keenam told him.  He had studied physical science, too.

“But I don’t understand how come they don’t bump into each other,” Tren told him.

They were quiet again as they watched the horizon grow darker.

“My father told me people knew a lot about the sky before they came to Ithos,” Tren lamented.

“That was a really long time ago,” Keenam emphasized.  To him, ‘Before Ithos’ was, at best, nothing more than a hazy imagining.

Tren was busy doing a mental inventory of the tek he was aware of.  “But I bet no one in the village ever had a telescope.”  None of the older people had ever mentioned one.

“What’s that?”

“Something you’re going to help me make.”

“What is it?”

Trenekis described it in detail.  “Another reason why we’re together,” he added.  One of the many, many reasons why Trenekis felt bonded to Keenam like no one else.

“How are we going to make one?”

“Hello.  You’re father’s a glassmaker.  You’re already his apprentice.  You can help me find out more about where we live.”

Keenam listened as Trenekis described the primary, secondary and correction lenses, and how they were going to grind them.  “We’re going to make sure that aberrations are at a minimum.  We’re going to borrow the measuring kit from Dalet.  We’re…, ” Trenekis continued, outlining the steps quite visible in his head, out loud.

Once again, Trenekis amazed and disturbed Keenam.  The boy constantly drew Keenam in as if he were a powerful magnet.  A few minutes ago, Keenam had never heard of a telescope.  Now he was enthusiastically agreeing to help Tren make one, though Keenam was sure it wouldn’t work.  He had never attempted to make something with the precision Trenekis described.  He would have to solicit his father’s help for sure, but he wondered if his father would put up with such nonsense.  The glass shop was for making practical things for practical purposes.

Tren stopped his description.  He reached over and kissed Keenam on the cheek.  Tren couldn’t quite say he was in love, but he certainly felt an attraction like nothing else.  An attraction he knew was dangerous and would somehow have to stop before he reached his Age of Inclusion.

*

Jalteb agreed to the project, grinning at the boys’ insistence and resolve; and it did work.  Five weeks later, after one of the lenses failed to cool properly and cracked, and after the second one was ground improperly, they had their three lenses properly ground, mounted and sealed in a dense norit wood tube.  It took another week for the glue to cure and it was ready to be used.

The tripod was easy to construct.  Ayvik helped find a way to attach the telescope to it so it would disconnect easily.  Holib, from the metalworking shop, fashioned locking rings from iron slugs, which Tren coated with a hard finish resin from his father’s shop to prevent rust, to keep the telescope in place.  Trenekis had no idea who had invented the right ascension and declination system for placing an imaginary grid in the sky, but found it to be a brilliant way to determine where objects were.  In short order, he fashioned his own such grid system, using key bright stars as guides.  Now he was able to make far better calculations for objects in the sky.

Keenam willingly came to Sanctuary with him on that first night so they could test it.  He looked through it, more fascinated than he thought he would be.  He was amazed that The Eye resolved into more than just a point of light.  Bright in the night sky, and far brighter through the telescope, it wasn’t so bright as to prevent him from seeing it was disc-shaped.  Trenekis told him it was nothing more than a sun, emphasizing how ridiculous it was to think Path Holders thought it was a place they would be ‘living’ after they died.  The very idea made no sense whatsoever.

The second night Keenam reluctantly came.  After all, this was Tren’s project, his fascination.  Unfortunately, partly cloudy skies had turned mostly cloudy.  There was a parting of clouds a half hour after Tren had set everything up, but he was unable to do much observing.  Disappointed, Tren’s mood turned foul.  Keenam removed Tren’s shirt and kissed him.  Soon enough the sefa pad was warmed up by their bodies as they wrestled away that frustration, letting orgasms fill each other’s throats.  Both boys were startled when Keenam’s father showed up only moments after they had put their clothes back on.  Another parting of the clouds had drawn him.  He wanted to see what the excitement was all about, unaware of the excitement that had just taken place.

On the third night Keenam declined going.  He had too much to do anyway.  Luckily, the sky was perfectly clear.  Alone at Sanctuary, Trenekis aimed the telescope at the north-south band of the Milky Way, as everyone older than him called it.  It wasn’t just a luminous band that stretched across the sky, beset here and there with bright stars.  Instead, he discovered it was made of more stars than he could count.  The dark haze near the bright cluster of stars to the north, many degrees off the Milky Way, had tentacles that reached in two directions, obscuring entire swaths of stars.  The Bellis Cluster was tightly packed with dozens of stars, not just the eight bright ones visible to the naked eye.  Ulm, the third largest moon, didn’t just have pocks, it had mountains.  The mysterious dark sky that had so mesmerized him was transforming itself into a treasure trove of previously unseen objects.

Being here under a roof of twinkling stars, knowing that all this time he had seen but a fraction of them was a revelation unlike anything he’d ever imagined.  The sky was hiding objects in plain sight!  And he had only observed tiny portions of it so far, for only a few moments.  What would he see next month when the sky moved on?  What about half a year from now?  What else was still hidden right out in the open?  What else had yet to be given a description?  A name?  What else was yet to be recorded by Trenekis Idero?

A frisson of extraordinary wonder descended upon him.  Tren’s heart pounded with such excitement that he could no longer look through the telescope.  The frisson came in waves, each more powerful than the last.  Those two times he had found himself outside his body, speeding away from the village, flying to the top of the mesa, then lifting up into the sky, came back to him.  That feeling of being lifted up threatened to overwhelm him again, and this time he wasn’t even asleep!

Tren took several steps back from the telescope.  With a feeling of reverence he had never felt in his entire life, he lifted his head up, then his arms above him, stretching them up high.  The sky was so huge, so beautiful.  “I see you!” he shouted.  “I see you!”  Without warning, tears cascaded down his cheeks.  He could no longer hold his arms up.  Sobs racked his body.  Without warning, a bizarre feeling of expanding started growing inside him, terrifying him and mesmerizing him at the same time.  It seemed he was bursting at invisible seams.  He dashed to the sefa pad and dropped to his knees, as if doing so would anchor him safely to the ground.  He wrapped his hands around himself, trying to hold himself together from the feeling of himself filling a void, of a void filling within himself.  Through the veil of tears still streaming down his face, he looked up again. The crystal-studded darkness was beckoning him, begging him to visit, to leap upward, to climb into the sky.  But he couldn’t.  He couldn’t!

He had no idea how much time had passed before the mysterious feeling of expanding beyond all boundaries dissipated.  Slowly but surely, the tears that had involuntarily poured out of him ceased, the grip the feeling had on his entire being dissolved.  In its place was a soothing, restful sensation he had never experienced before, which put an uncontrollable smile on his face.  The telescope still stood over to his left, pointing upward to the infinite reaches of space.  Its miniscule glass windows had guided and gathered pinpoints of light into his very soul and filled him with ecstasy.

“I’ve seen beauty... beyond imagining,” Trenekis whispered aloud.

Chapter 4

Twenty-six years ago, a method of capturing microscopic singularities, trapping them in magnetic containment chambers, then siphoning nearly unlimited amounts of energy from their ergospheres, was perfected. Finally, with such a dense energy source, a true FTL drive was put into production.  Until that time the only method of long term travel that was available to get to the outer reaches of the Sol system or to Epsilon Eridanus was stasis, colloquially known as cold sleep.  Thus, the notable lack of extrasolar colonies and the enormous amount of time it took to traverse interstellar distances.

In the last eight hundred years, the search for other habitable worlds had resulted in a database of seventy-eight hundred and sixty-two planets.  Analysis of those in a one hundred light-year radius of Sol had turned up one hundred fifty-eight that might be a good fit for humanity.  For all that time though, Man had colonized only four other worlds.  Three of them were in the Sol system.  Only Eridanus Prime stood lonely in space a little over ten light years from Earth.

Planetary Survey Ship the PSS Farwinds could hold twenty crewmen, six cabin and ship bots, and survey team personnel.  On this voyage she held Captain Shan Abarru, Commander Joll Hittan, a full crew complement; along with three senior survey scientists and their guards from the Planetary Survey Institute.  Only a detailed close-up visit could prove whether long-distance analysis of potentially viable worlds was accurate or not, and this was the team to determine that.

This was Captain Abarru’s eighth survey mission and the second one with this particular compliment.  He rather liked this team.  They were the most cohesive of any he’d served with so far, the team members had the most interesting personalities, and he particularly enjoyed the company of Dr. Velabay Sepp, the only female team member in the group.  She let him know upon their first meeting that she was single and available. They had already steamed up his cabin eight times in the last nine weeks.  He planned to double that on the return trip.

Although Captain Abarru was born on Earth, he had been assigned to pilot missions from the Institute on Eridanus Prime two years ago.  When not in space, he spent a lot of time in his adopted city of Oslo Tier.  The Institute, funded by Earth Colonial Authority, long ago chose that city for its survey training camp and administrative facilities because of its rugged, independent-minded people.  It helped too that the Institute was a huge bonus to their citizens.  With it had come an infusion of credits to the local economy and the chance to be the center of bragging rights when a choice planet was discovered.  In the captain’s estimation, it looked like they might be coming up on another planet to brag about.  This one looked promising.  At least long distance surveillance had said so.

*

Survey Guard First Class by training and geologist by education Niko Savaidras sat at the round table looking at his playing cards in the PSS Farwinds recreation room. The cards were traditional printed cellulose and well-worn.  They were similar to those used for centuries during long boring stretches like this one, where security personnel, crews, and others whiled away their time.  He held a crown, a queen, and a null card, along with a four and a three, the throw away cards.  If no one else held a double crown, he would take the pile of chits.  Although the game wasn’t poker, he held his poker face, scrutinizing the countenances of the two other guards and the crewmen who sat around the table.

“Your bid, Unell,” Niko said to the guard to his right.

Survey Guard First Class by training and climatologist by education Olkin Unell pursed his lips, teetering between keeping his own poker face and looking supremely frustrated.  “Out,” he said as he slapped his cards down on the tabletop.  He crossed his arms as he leaned back in the chair.

“Ezic?” Niko asked.

Survey Guard Second Class by training and evolutionary biologist by education, Torm Ezic was the youngest of the three guards by only a few months.  He had been intently watching Niko, looking for any indication of the kind of hand his fellow guard had, scrutinizing every detail of Niko’s face.

Niko turned twenty-four years old last month, had been a survey guard for four years, and had received his First Guard commission six months ago.  He wore his thick dark, almost jet-black hair close-cropped, yet right to the edge of regulation.  If he let it grow out more it would be wavy.  He had full lips and a well-proportioned nose, slightly sloped along the bridge.  His dark brown eyes and long dark lashes were his calling card to both men and women, although he preferred men.  Not overly muscular, yet filled out where it mattered, his 1.8m frame held his 82 kilos over even-toned light brown skin.  The fact that he was considered good-looking by nearly everyone who met him had given him a pass even to those who were not already aware of his family name or background.  It was a pass he had only become supremely aware of after he had graduated from survey guard training camp.

First Class survey guards were qualified to travel beyond the magic distance of fifty light-years, which was the artificial boundary the Institute had deemed couldn’t be crossed until one reached that rank.  That marker wouldn’t be crossed until the next mission.  Their goal this time was slightly over 48 light years from the Eridanus system in the direction of Ursa Major, to a triple star system still only known as 5C 6900 +25.

After drawing straws, it had been determined that Dr. Beld, their senior astrophysicist, would name this planet after they arrived.  Of course, the Institute’s astronomy panel had to approve the name.  The caveat to naming rights was that the planet had to be viable.  Niko had already gotten to name one in another system.  Too bad it was Class B, which had considerable stormy weather and limited climatic zones.  It was less than ideal for numerous reasons.  Long-term colonization of that planet would be mostly for the hardiest pioneers.

Even at FTL velocities, this was a nine week trip.  The guards and crew had card games, the ship’s holographic computer interface known as KAI, books, an extensive rec room, and other diversions to keep them alert and happy for such long trips.  Niko, who enjoyed cooking, was allowed to do so on occasion, despite the ship having a live chef and mess crew.

The Institute had provided him with a solid academic and fieldwork background in geology.  It helped that he had plunged into his studies with fervor, due to his intense interest in the science before he joined.  It also helped that aural field learning tek required only one-tenth the time it had taken anyone, only decades previously, to learn the equivalent of a degree in a chosen subject.  Niko was already considered a junior expert in determining whether a planet was resource laden or deficient with just a few strategic samples.  His intuitive sense of what to look for had been remarkable.

Niko slowly flicked the top corner of one of the cards with a finger, consciously raising the tension in the room.  Except for that and the music playing at a low volume in the background, it was quiet.  “Arita?” he asked.

Shipmaster Welk Arita decided Niko was bluffing.  He pushed another chit into the center pile and called.

Niko looked indecisive, hesitated, then looked down at the pile of chits.  He looked up at Arita, then down again at the pile.  He pushed the same denomination into the center of the table and slowly placed his cards down, face up.

“Impossible!” Arita cried out.

“You see the cards,” Niko countered.

Arita sighed with exasperation.  He had only ten credits left.  Niko had nearly a week’s worth of his pay.

The crewman to Niko’s right, older than all the survey guards by seven years, had been the first to fold and had been leaning back in his chair, watching the spectacle.  He had been smart enough to fold early, realizing that Niko had some sort of secret.  Somehow, this-this boy had figured out how to play starkin like a seasoned ace.

Niko grinned, taking care not to look too gleeful.  After all, he knew he might just as easily lose all of it tomorrow night.

Niko lay on his bunk on top of the light covers.  The clock showed shortly after twenty-three thirty hours.  The card game had broken up early tonight.  A tiny light, aimed at the ceiling to his left illuminated the room with a soft even glow.  The small cabin that served as his quarters aboard the ship was neater than the other guards’ cabins despite the cabin bots that came through every day to tidy up.  His clothes were picked up.  His personal effects were in place.  The mirror over his sink was squeaky clean.  Despite regulations, the other guards were quite a bit more messy than he was.  Being tidy was in his genes.  Just like it was in his genes to fantasize about Unell, as he was doing right now.  Of the two other guards he was working with on this survey mission only Unell had what he liked in a guy.  He had told Unell shortly after their first assignment together.

Everyone on board was well aware of Niko’s sexual orientation.  Early on, everyone announced who was strictly hetero and who wasn’t.  Single men, especially the younger ones like these guardsmen, usually signaled their availability right away so that everyone knew where everyone else stood.  Even if Niko had wanted to try them out, they would say no.  Those who were in between, though, could easily be played.  Niko knew who they were, as well, and Niko was lucky Unell at least partially fit his bill.  In his estimation, the others were missing out.  He was literally the only guy on board who could give them exactly what they wanted, yet only Unell was willing to receive it.  Their loss, he thought.

Unell didn’t like being deprived of sexual contact on long missions.  And despite being straight, he had welcomed the encounter as Niko disrobed him in his quarters the first week aboard the vessel on their previous mission, and brought him to orgasm.  Unell didn’t reciprocate and made it clear that he didn’t for two important reasons.  Niko lacked breasts.  He also had a penis.  As much as Unell enjoyed sex, going all the way with a guy wasn’t going to happen.  Sure, the blowjob hit the spot.  After all, he knew that gays knew what guys liked.  The gay subculture in the Survey Guard had a notorious reputation for that.  It’s just that having sex with a guy simply wasn’t on his menu.  Nonetheless, they would remain buddies and if Niko wanted to give him a blowjob every day, that was fine with Unell.

Niko was smooth though.  He had had Unell give him hand job as a reward the second time.  When they got together the third time Unell managed to get past his disgust at what he was doing and got Niko off first and third, with Unell getting off in the middle.  Niko found it comical how easy it was to compel Unell to slip right across his imaginary sexual line.  At least Niko had some sort of man-on-man contact, even if it wasn’t full on sex.

But Niko noticed that doing so was becoming a lot less fun nowadays.  It was becoming more and more difficult to forget what he had left behind, more difficult to stay in denial about the disappointment that went with the choice he had made by joining the Survey Service.  He missed being in a real relationship, the constancy of sleeping with the same person, talking with him, planning their future together.  Feeling loved.

Sure, there had been plenty of orgasms to make the get-togethers with the handful of boys he’d had over the years as hot as they could be.  But they continued to lack a certain something.  He still kicked himself about it.  He even cringed every once in a while when he thought about how cavalier he’d been about ending it with Dett; how stupid he was sure he looked to others and especially to his father, but somehow never to himself.  He was sure that for nearly everyone around him it must have seemed that his thirst for adventure was in reality a desire to run away.

But it wasn’t.

The thirst was really there and it seemed insatiable.  The ache to see the unknown seemed etched into his very being.  But he still couldn’t give up a nagging feeling that he was being laughed at behind his back by those closest to him.

At full attention once again after savoring every detail of Unell’s tall muscular frame, if only in his mind this time, Niko wrapped his hand around himself and started.  A few minutes later, he was wiping up splatters from his abdomen, right shoulder and the corner of the pillow.

*

“Are you serious?” twenty-year-old Dett Augustef asked after Niko explained his exciting news.

“See for yourself,” twenty-year-old Niko told him.  He handed the flimsy to Dett.

Dett scanned the document.  It was clear enough.  He handed it back.  “You’re in school here.  How can you possible go?”

“My test scores.”

“Excuse me?  I don’t care what your scores are. I’m not moving.”

“You don’t have to move.”

“Uh, that’s right.  You do.  For three months.”

“Why do you always have to be so difficult?”

“Oh, I’m being difficult.  Look who wants to move away.”

“It’s just for three months.  That’s how long training camp is.”

“No, that’s how long the first part of your training is.  Then you live with them and go to school there.  And after that, you go off-world for who knows how long.  Why didn’t you ask me about this before you signed up?”

“That’s why.  Because of that.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“This is a good career move for me.  You should be supportive of it.”

“Should be?  There you go again.  Making demands on me.  I live here.  In Gagarin City.  Where I’ve lived all my life.  You’ll be in Oslo Tier, on the other side of the freakin’ planet.  I’m in school here.  You’re in school here.  There’s no way I’m going.”

“Like I said.  I’m going, not you.”

“You’re not getting it, Niko.  We’re in a relationship,” Dett said as he pointed to himself.  “We live together.  I have no interest in some sort of long distance thing because this might be good for you somewhere down the road.  And you know I don’t have much love for the military.  It’s not fair to me.”

“The Planetary Survey Service isn’t the military.  They just use a military structure for their organization.”

“I don’t care,” Dett shouted as he waved his hands.  “You made a decision that affects both of us without consulting me.  This isn’t the first time you’ve done that.  How about when you changed your major to geology?  You’re not going,” Dett told him decisively.  “You’re not.”

An ultimatum.  Niko didn’t expect that.  He went to the window.  The wide pillar in the center of the enormous dome that enclosed Gagarin City was the largest object five kilometers distant.  The dozen other pillars, shorter, but just as wide, and equally spaced in a graceful arc across the view, were beautiful tonight.  The lights along their surfaces twinkled and shone in the night sky.  It was beautiful out there but it was getting ugly in their flat.  “I am,” Niko said to the window, softly, yet with resolve.

Dett heard him.  “You’re sleeping on the couch tonight.”  He refused to say another word to Niko that evening.

An hour later Niko was resting his chin on top of clasped hands, the pillow bunched up underneath them.  Lying on his stomach, he looked out over the city through the window of their high rise condo.  The lights from the string of hovercars twelve levels below made colorful reflections on the glass.

Why did he do it again?  The crazy decisions at the spur of the moment, the going off like that and leaving everyone else out of the equation.  Restlessness kept antagonizing him, filling his thoughts and daydreams with a nagging fear that life was passing him by.  He felt claustrophobic despite Gagarin City being the largest cluster of interconnected domes on the entire planet.  It was as if the inner curve of its enormous main shroud was simply too close.  Close enough for him to touch if he reached out right now.

It seemed so simple for years: he would follow in his father’s footsteps.  Niko had all the connections he needed for a great career in politics, but something nagged at him.  Something just wasn’t right about that type of work.  The vast, nearly untouched Outside called out to him.  Sure, people went Outside all the time.  Thousands of people were Outside all over the planet even as he thought about it, but the vast majority of them were in protective vehicles, supervising mining operations or construction projects, for short periods of time.  Everyone came back inside.  No one could live out there.

Sadly, despite Eridanus Prime being a perfectly acceptable terrestrial world, right in the middle of its star’s life zone, with a nickel-iron core, and a nearly twenty-four hour rotation, it was unlike Earth in one important way.  The planet was far younger than Earth.  With only eleven percent free oxygen in its atmosphere, anyone foolish enough to pass through an airlock without an air supply would die within fifteen minutes.  Sure, there were plenty of life forms Outside.  The native flora and fauna were perfectly adapted to this world.  But humans, the interlopers that they were, were not evolved to live in an atmosphere with far more carbon dioxide than Earth and a distinct lack of the good stuff.

On the wall next to the window was a holo of his Outside Adventurers group.  The twelve men and women he regularly went with tested their endurance all the time.  They hiked up mountains not yet scaled by humans, with breathers of course, chalking up the meters with each new height.  They walked along shores where no one dared set out a beach towel and fall asleep.  It would be permanent.  They made excursions into caves and climes similar to those on Earth, but that had no continuous human presence.

Talk of terraforming Eridanus Prime had been discussed for decades, but had no political traction or real public popularity.  After all, the technology to build extremely large and safe domes had been in place for centuries.  Who needed to spend the kind of money needed to terraform an entire planet, especially when it wouldn’t result in anything worthwhile for perhaps a thousand years and utterly change the climate and every ecosystem, all for the worse in the interim?

Thus, his ears had perked up when he heard about the Planetary Survey Service last year.  He told few people about his fascination with that organization.  Who cared if it originated on that cesspool called Earth?  The service had a sprawling facility on the other side of Eridanus Prime.  Their hook was brilliant.  Get tested.  If your score was high enough you could join up as a survey recruit.  Recruits needed a skill that would be necessary on planetary surveys.  It was a plus to have a background in one of the necessary skills such as meteorology or astronautics.  Pilots of all kind were welcome.  Niko’s interest was geology.  He was a perfect fit.  Recruits also needed physical stamina.  To ensure that, the institute in Oslo Tier required a rigorous three-month training.  If one passed that, accelerated learning would ensure a specialty and advancement to Second Guard.  A newly educated Guard would have a mentor and assignment to a survey ship.  One’s mentor would make sure Guards received experience, training, and continuing education.  Time-in-grade would result in becoming a First Guard and more pay.  If one wanted to stay in the service, the rank of Junior Survey Scientist could be obtained.  A few more years and one could become a Senior Survey Scientist.  A Senior Scientist’s mentorship continued the cycle.

The soaring, exciting and extensive holosite was impossible to ignore.  Its simulations, some of which he’d run through five and six times, had even worked themselves into his dreams.  A career path was open and available to anyone who wanted to live that sort of life.  There were plenty of planets to explore.  One could have a long and rewarding career assisting humanity in expanding far beyond the confines of the Sol and Epsilon Eridanus solar systems.  The prospect of travel far beyond the confines of his world nagged at Niko.  There was no way he could say no.  He had always been fascinated with rocks.  Oddly enough, he never had any good reason to know precisely what he was looking at until he’d heard of the service.

Niko knew exactly where his fascination with going off-world came from.  Campaigning by holo was illegal.  Because of his father’s career and because of the heavy campaigning he had done when Niko was younger, he had been to twenty-one of the thirty-eight major domed cities that dotted the surface of Eridanus Prime.  Niko thought he had personally seen at least half the population of the planet.  In the last one hundred and eight years, the population had climbed to over forty million inhabitants.  A good quarter of them had come in the last decade and a half because of regular FTL flights.

His father’s campaign had drawn him to the Outside Adventurers, too.  The long hours traveling inside airtight vehicles from dome to dome, looking outward and seeing not a single sign of human habitation for hundreds of kilometers at a stretch, made him long to be out there.  Maybe that was his problem, he thought.  He had gotten a bug for travel and couldn’t shake it.  As much as he loved being with Dett, Dett seemed far too focused on being inside.

Two years, Niko thought.  We’ve been together for two years.  In all that time, Dett’s been Outside once.  Only one time!  I wish I had realized I didn’t want a homebody before we started living together.  Damn it.

*

Despite his last name, which instantly gave away that Niko was the Director-in-Chief’s son, the Planetary Survey Service’s training camp’s physical training was the same for him as everyone else.  Their training camp was nothing like a military training camp yet it required total concentration, a dedication to physical stamina that far outdid anything the Outside Adventurers attempted, and an adherence to a strict hierarchical protocol that was reminiscent of Eridanus’s planetary government.  At least that much was easy to assimilate.  He had grown up knowing and understanding hierarchical governmental protocols.

One week into camp Niko had an opportunity to make his call.  It was time to try to reconcile his differences with Dett.  Niko was sure Dett would cool down as he always did.

Niko stepped onto the pad inside the holobooth in the hallway near his dorm room.  Dett answered almost immediately.

“Why did you bother, Niko?”

“Dett, you know why.”

“Well, it’s not going to work.”

“But I love you.”

“No, you love this.”  He reached down and grasped a considerable bulge.

“Well, yeah.”

Dett had the most magnificent penis of any boy he’d ever been with.  Okay, so he’d only been with two other boys.  Yet, Dett knew how to use it in ways Niko didn’t know were possible before they met.  He felt lucky to have hooked up with him that night at the party thrown by a second level official his father knew.  Their foray into that bathroom off the empty bedroom in the sprawling luxury condo led to one of the most amazing orgasms he’d ever had.  He felt particularly lucky to have been able to get Dett to be his and his alone after that night.

But there was another, and far more important reason, for them being together.  Dett was the city treasurer’s eldest son.  Their partnership, sexual or otherwise, had important and far-reaching implications for both boys’ future careers.  The sexual aspect was certainly paramount to Niko.  Niko had just turned eighteen and Dett was approaching nineteen at the time.  Neither could get enough of each other.  But things had changed for Niko just a few short months after they met.  His life had veered off in a direction he could barely keep up with.  A flame had ignited within him.  A curiosity about what lay beyond the confines of the planet had become impossible to ignore.

“I’ve been offered a position,” Dett told him.

Already, Niko wondered.  “You haven’t even graduated.”

“I’m wanted and needed.  And having you with me was important.  But you’ve changed, Niko.  Radically.”

“You would throw away the last two years?” Niko asked.

“Me?  You’re asking me if I would throw away those years?  Niko, you’re the one who changed!  I really enjoyed us together.  God knows you’re insatiable.  But after you changed your major, I really started having my doubts about our being able to continue this.  To tell you the truth I was waiting for you to switch back to poli-sci.  I was sure you’d come to your senses.  Your father seems to think you will, but I think he’s wrong.”

“That’s not fair,” Niko told him.  “I’m doing something I really enjoy and all you can do is disparage it.  I tried to make this work out.”

“You did no such thing!  I’m sorry I hung on to this relationship as long as I did,” Dett said, shaking his head.  “You’re not the person I thought you were.  You’re someone else.  This is not good for my career.”

“I’m still that same guy.  I just figured out that my place isn’t behind a desk or inside a dome my entire life.”

“Niko, do you have any idea how big this planet is?  You can get lost here.  I think you’ve done that.  You got lost.”

Niko knew the diameter and circumference of Eridanus Prime.  In addition, he’d been to peaks on several mountain ranges and looked out over vast uninhabited swaths.  The planet was unbelievably huge.  Of course, Niko was painfully aware Dett was speaking metaphorically.  “It’s not big enough for my imagination,” Niko told him coldly.

“This is why we can’t be together.  You’ve got your head in some rarified cloud.  I think you’ve been Outside too many times and turned down your oxygen.  We were good together, Niko.  But we can’t do it again.  I already sent the rest of your things to your family.  Please don’t holocall me again.  We’re done.”  Dett reached out to a control panel not viewable to Niko.  His image didn’t slowly dissolve.  Instead, like all ended holocalls, he disappeared in a nanosecond.

Niko’s surroundings returned to normal, revealing that he was in a well-used holobooth.  He exited it and went back to his room.

A curious mix of sadness and relief swirled inside him.  It was difficult to determine which feeling took priority.  From one perspective, the enormous amount of sex they’d had would be sorely missed.  Indeed, he already missed it.  Niko loved cooking for Dett.  The tender moments they had frequently shared after an evening meal, which quite often led to amazing sex, would bring brought the day to a satisfying close.  Another part of him felt relieved it was over.

Despite his less than perfect exit out of Dett’s life, he needed this.  He needed to uncouple himself from his father’s name, his family’s shadow, and the scrutiny a life in politics demanded.  He needed to be a part of history in a different way than through the Savaidras Legacy.  He needed to go to the stars.  He ached to be part of the teams that found other planets to live on.  There were so many on the survey list.  There were so few who might make the cut here in camp.  There were only so many who would become part of the survey missions.  He had to be one of them.  He had to!

Chapter 5

Zenna was at school.  Ayvik and Ellu were by themselves.  Tren had left a half hour earlier to shower before going to the maintenance shop.

“I spoke with Dalet after Tren went to sleep,” Ayvik told Ellu as they ate breakfast in their quiet home.

“Oh, you went to warn him.”

He nodded.  “Tren will march in there and tell him instead of asking him that he needs to go away for a while.”

Ellu, looking concerned, sighed.

“What is it?” he asked.

“We didn’t tell him about Jonen.”

“He was already overwhelmed.”

“When he returns, then.  We’ll tell him together.”

“I hope he forgives us for not telling him sooner.”

Ellu reached across the table and grasped her husband’s hand.  She knew it was going to be a difficult journey for the boys, if not outright dangerous.

“Tren is a man now.  He’s made that clear,” he told her.

Both found themselves briefly in deep thought.  Talking about the city or anything having to do with it was a rare occurrence nowadays.

“He’s our son.  He will be our son forever,” Ayvik told her, conviction in his voice.

Ellu hoped it was true.  She knew Tren only too well.

*

The school hut had been deliberately built deep in the canyon, sheltered from storms, and higher up than most structures in the village to prevent it from being flooded if the creek rose.  The creek hadn’t risen very high in recent years.  Nonetheless, the school and everything in it was far too important.  The interior was lit on each side by two windows, skylights, and a lightstick which hung from the center of the ceiling.  Scratched and dented, as were all the lightsticks in Hiera, this one was the longest and brightest.  The council insisted the school be well-lit and comfortable.  No resources were spared.  It was imperative that the children learn in an environment that welcomed them.  The vidpads had long ago been scoured for data that would be useful to teach children, then written on sheets of pressed caxa, using permanent inks that Ayvik himself had formulated.  Bound into texts, the data was separated into age-appropriate modules.  Treated with reverence, they were well-taken care of.  Stacks of blank paper rested in a bin by the instructor.  No one was to spare them.  Plenty of writing instruments had been made and bottles of ink were always full, thanks to Avyik Idero’s shop.

The schoolchildren were taught farming techniques and cloth making.  Food processing, home building, and finished goods fabrication were introduced and instructed.  At least the basics were.  The spelling and grammar of Stellex was taught.  No one would be illiterate.  No one would finish school without being able to understand basic physical science either.  As they grew older, those already working in those jobs would tutor those who took an interest in a specialty.  Everyone was exposed to the various occupations the villagers held and those which might be needed soon.  Boys and girls were taught the importance of physical prowess and perseverance.  Phalwood stick fighting for the boys provided endurance, gymnastics was for the girls, and everyone participated in organized sports.  No one was unimportant.  No one was allowed to be idle.  There were no other villages.  Kelesat was far too dangerous to expose themselves to its populace.  There was no one else to rely on.  They were completely on their own.

Life in Hiera was going to become harder as time went on, despite the growth in population.  The few remaining bots were getting old.  Their unyielding help would eventually cease, requiring two, three or even four men to replace their labor.  Xoss beasts only produced one cub every two years at most.  They were less prolific than the villagers desired, but at least they were easily tamed and used for labor.

But not all the old data was useful for Hierans.  Trenekis, of all people, realized that within a few weeks of poring over the haphazardly stored files on the vidpad Counselor Brem had given him.  Totally unexposed to the quantum sciences and the mathematics that went with it, there were far more subjects and topics in its crystalline memory module than he could possibly wrap his head around.  Still, bits and pieces of it mesmerized him, especially the scant metafiles on astronomy.  Perhaps one day, when the village had grown sufficiently large and a lot more stable, the knowledge that had been compiled and sitting idle, waiting future days when their secrets would be useful to a culture such as theirs, would one day be comprehensible and translatable into everyday life.  Trenekis wondered when, or if, those days might ever come.

*

Sixteen-year-old Trenekis was paired up with Tahvo from his class in the open area in back of the school hut.  They shed their shirts under the shade of the tall peak-roofed exercise area, gripped their weapons, bowed as instructed, then stood two meters from each other.  The ‘weapons’ were dense phalwood sticks, specifically chosen for their tight grain and fashioned to look like narrow double-edged swords.  The other boys surrounding them widened the circle.  Some had already fought.  Others would fight after Tren and Tahvo.  No one would leave until the matches were over.  Counselor Golona was the fight-master.  He would referee, as usual.

Both of Tahvo’s hands were firmly grasping the hilt behind the guard.  Tren held his sword tightly in one hand.  With the other, he carefully balanced himself as he moved.  They had all been thoroughly instructed and well-experienced in how to cut, strike and thrust.  They circled each other.  Testing, testing.  Both boys were evenly matched by age, strength and skill.  Counselor Golona suspected he would be forced to call a tie.  He didn’t need to keep an extra special watch over Trenekis anymore.  He only needed to keep score now.  Tren’s eye was steady, his nerve properly honed, his breath even and calm.

It wasn’t always so.

*

Tren’s father stood behind the outer circle of boys.  With him were five other such eager fathers, watching their fifteen-year-olds.  It was customary for them to attend the first day of The Bouts.  Although the first day was entirely ceremonial, it had been decided by the Council that it would serve as an important milestone in the life of a teenage boy in Hiera.  There were numerous rites of passage that all boys and girls marked.  The significance of this day was only slightly more important than some others.

Ayvik had warned Counselor Golona multiple times about his boy’s ability to instantly bring anger to the surface, about how Trenekis, at times, felt the need to seek retribution for imagined wrongs.  Trenekis always seemed to be at a slow burn, ready to flame up in seconds.  Learning to fight would help, the counselor had responded.  It would provide discipline, maybe even be a beneficial outlet for the cauldron of intense emotions the boy had bundled inside him.

None of the boys were given instructions.  Swords were given out first so that the fight-master could see what he was dealing with.  Instruction would come later, detailed ones, but for now it was a just a game of wits.  Tren was matched with Vel, another fifteen-year-old.

Vel had instantly taken to his sword, anticipating this day.  Trenekis had no choice but to defend himself, to attempt to anticipate Vel’s movements.  Trenekis totally underestimated his strength.  Slim and lithe, as was nearly every other boy his age, he was far too aggressive.  He had an intensity about him that was too deliberate.  Counselor Golona stopped the round several times, making Trenekis calm down and listen.  After being bruised three times by Vel’s well-placed hits, Trenekis had had enough.  Sucking in huge breaths, he hit hard, coming down on Vel’s shoulder, slicing open the skin and nearly breaking his collarbone.  The cry of pain and the river of blood he had caused made Trenekis drop his sword to the sand in horror.  The counselor called for an immediate halt.  Bosh was called.  The dermal regeneration pad still worked then.  Trenekis was told to apologize.

“It’s a game, Trenekis,” Counselor Golona told him afterward.  Sternly, without anger, yet with concern.

Later that afternoon, Ayvik discussed the incident with Trenekis.  Trenekis would not be a nodor, one of the wild and dangerous digging creatures at the edge of the Long Sea days to the south.  Not while the boy lived under his roof.  Trenekis would listen and listen well.  Counselor Golona was the fight-master.  Under the man’s tutelage, Tren would learn to control his anger.  He would listen.  He would learn.

It took ten lessons and his fifteenth bout in the ring, but like a switch being flipped, Trenekis suddenly understand what was being taught.  It was simple.  None of the boys were out to subdue him.  There was no hidden anger being let loose on him.  It was merely exercise.  In an instant, it was quite clear.  Who had nerve.  Who didn’t.  Who could step more nimbly.  Who couldn’t.  Who could make the sword become an extension of themselves.  Who used their arms far too much.  Who held their breath and cowered.  Who felt powerful while exuding tremendous calm.  Who got it.  Who refused.

He would not refuse.

For the first time in his life, Trenekis felt totally in control of himself.  The wooden sword became a treasure, not a necessary displeasure.  Curiously, the sound of hard wood hitting hard wood had a transcendent sound to it.

In an instant, Trenekis understood Keenam’s need and desire to hunt.  Understood why tracking elusive animals in the forest was so important to him.  Sword-fighting and the hunt: both were equal, both gave strength, both required focus.  The understanding of something so simple amazed him.

Later that day Trenekis went to Ayvik, stood in front of him and hugged him.  The love he felt for his father was unwavering, steady, filled with pride.  They had a bond built by substances not definable.  Trenekis realized there were many things to learn that had nothing to do with ancient, nearly impossible to understand files buried in his vidpad.

Yet, there were secrets that had to be kept.  The feelings he had for Keenam was one of them.  Their intimacy and Tren’s powerful desire for him was a secret that mustn’t be told.  Otherwise, banishment for failing to fit in the village would be certain.  His father was clearly supportive of him but there was no way he would be if it became known what Tren’s heart was telling him about the boy he wanted in a way that was simply not allowed.

*

It had been nearly two years since Trenekis started working in the maintenance shop with Dalet.  Dalet knew all about the vidpad Counselor Brem had strategically given to Tren as a fourteenth birthday present.  After Trenekis had discovered it contained wonders he openly marveled at, it became evident to Votig that Tren would be the right person to work with Dalet.  The boy’s fondness for the old tek rivaled only Dalet’s natural ability with it.

Dalet was the reason why they even had a thriving industry.  He had been the foreman in the glass-making facility in the city.  He had helped tease out information from now-defunct vidpads on how to identify specific metal ores and other compounds.  The nearby hills provided veins of silver, hematite, calcium carbonate and a dozen other raw mineral ores that were useful and needed for the small village.  It was Dalet’s expertise in chemistry that helped spur Tren’s own father into action manufacturing soaps, resins, perfumes, oils, glues and a host of other products needed for everyday life in the village.  Dalet’s contribution to the village was extraordinary.  He was now the keeper of the tek, his initial contribution having been recognized long ago.  Dalet was the go-to man to maintain the bots and other photronic devices the village used.  He kept everything in operational order.

Dalet was pleased that Trenekis took to maintenance like a lek to water.  Perhaps it was because of his ability to concentrate when it mattered.  Perhaps it was his precocious aptitude for the equipment.  He had an intuitive grasp of how to use various repair tools, requiring little explanation and minimal guidance.  What he didn’t understand right away, he culled from the maintenance manuals and instructions in Dalet’s vidpad.

Unsure of what to expect from the boy at first, due to his well-known moodiness and temper, Dalet had taken Trenekis in to do nothing more than an inventory.  Votig had insisted.  When Tren did a flawless job, Dalet was duly impressed.  That had quickly led to Tren being there more and more often.  Finally, an apprenticeship was offered, which was approved by Ayvik.  When Trenekis became a problem, and he had on two equally bizarre occasions, Dalet told Ayvik and Votig.  He had no interest in dealing with the boy when he became hostile, sullen or impossible to communicate with.  Yet Tren’s sometimes impenetrable moods were a small price to pay for having a clearly intelligent worker to handle complicated tek.

Some of the tek was out on permanent loan.  The items only came in to be repaired or to have their power packs replaced.  When anything was returned to the shed Dalet and Tren cleaned it, optimized it and made sure the items still functioned.  The rest of the equipment was kept in the maintenance shed most of the time and loaned out under strict guidelines.  Only the medical devices were never returned.  Unfortunately, the full body imager went into storage six months ago.

*

Trenekis had arrived earlier than Dalet expected this morning.  He was still amazed at the dedication Trenekis had for transcribing data from the vidpad.  Many times Dalet had looked at the notes Trenekis had made.  Twice already he saw that Tren had transcribed something mathematical that he was sure no one in the village could interpret, much less use for any practical purpose.  Dalet knew there was no way the boy understood the equations or even what he was transcribing.  Trenekis freely admitted as such.  “It’s for later.  Once I understand the math, it might become useful,” Tren told him.

Dalet didn’t want to admit his personal viewpoint of the endeavor.  He was sure Trenekis focused too much on what could never have use for life in a village.  If anything, reverting to simpler, more practical matters would be the agenda as time went by.

Perfunctory good mornings were spoken as Tren arrived.  Trenekis went to the back room to take advantage of the morning quiet.  He had two more pages to transcribe before the entire file was finished.  Then he would bind the twenty-six pages into a folder for later, because this too was incomprehensible.  If only he could find something particularly useful for the counselor.  However, this vidpad contained no medical information.  Bosh had all of it.  Bosh had culled anything of medical value from the vidpads before Tren had turned two years old.

“Before you start I, uh, I had a talk with your father,” Dalet told him.

Tren looked up at the man.  Trenekis had never asked Dalet but he figured the man to be at least Counselor Brem’s age.

“Your father told me you intend to make a… pilgrimage to the city.”

“It’s true.”

“I have no problem with the lack of skilled hands, as long as they come back.”

“I intend to come back.”

“There’s something you need to know before you waste your time.”

“Waste?  Did he not tell you why I’m going?”

“He did.”

“Well?”

“Tren, in all the time we’ve worked together we’ve never discussed anything about the old city.”

Tren nodded.

“Since you’re intent on going there you need to know something about it.  Two trips in that direction were made shortly after Hiera was founded.  There was – is – much danger attempting to go back there.  On that first trip, Path Holders were spotted a day’s travel from the western edge of the city.  Very little was brought back on that trip.  The second trip was a disaster, which I have no interest in retelling.  Regardless, there’s no doubt the Path Holders returned a long time ago and removed whatever remained.  After twenty years do you really think there’s anything left worth salvaging anyway?”

“Path Holders shun tek.”

Dalet nodded.  “The true believers certainly did.  Yet, imagine yourself being forced out of the city, on your own for good.  No one’s coming to your rescue.  You have to rely on your own wits.  How many of them do you think had any wits... have any, for that matter.  I suspect very few did then.  That’s why they’d go back and salvage anything they could despite their supposed rejection of tek.”

Trenekis noticed that it was becoming increasingly more difficult to not speak his mind nowadays.  It was almost as if something larger than himself was trying to burst out of him, or as if he were reverting to an infantile state, unable to contain strong emotions.  The obvious question wasn’t being answered.  “Was medical equipment looked for?”

“I don’t remember, Tren.  Plus, I didn’t go.”

Trenekis was waiting for this opening.  “Then I have to go.  To make sure.”

“Since you’ve already made up your mind, I should tell you the best place to find anything.  There was an underground storage area and a clinic... .”  Dalet went on to tell Trenekis where to find the places and nearby landmarks.

Both of them heard voices near the front door.  Nelu Dask and Lesic Tomela were talking to each other as they entered.

“Gentlemen,” Dalet greeted as they approached.

“We have a problem,” Nelu told him without ceremony.  Trenekis stood and gathered with the men.  That tone was heard too often.

“The digbot in the east field stopped,” Nelu said, imploring their help right away.

Fifteen minutes later, with tool bag in tow, the four of them reached the far end of the row where tala plants would eventually be planted.  A newly dug row several meters long, its fresh earth still dark and moist, indicated it had just been turned.  But the bot stood silent, frozen in position.

Dalet used the tester on all eight of the bot’s diagnostic ports, to no avail, before he shook his head.  This was the second to last digbot.  It had been acting strangely for weeks.  Dalet was surprised it had lasted this long.

They disconnected the bot’s long articulated digging arms from its body, then used a winch to pull the stuck arm out of the ground.  A few people in the fields exchanged angry words.  They knew this day was coming.  It meant extra work for everyone, more use of the xoss beasts, which required more breeding and more food to gather for them.  The list just went on.

Even with the arms removed, the bot was too large and heavy for one person to handle.  It required four of them to pull it onto the back of a cart, which was tied to the back of a xoss beast.  They strapped the bot down and Tren implored the beast to make its way to the narrow side canyon where the large interconnected rooms had long ago been dug out.  The three other men walked silently with him, as if following a funeral procession.  Tren’s mood had already darkened as he and the men offloaded the now-dead bot and placed it in the chamber.  Tren told the men he would walk back by himself.  They didn’t need to stick around for him.  He still needed to cover the bot before securing the door anyway.

The men prodded the beast and it pulled the cart away.  Several minutes later Tren was alone in the silent canyon.  A single lightstick hung from the hook on the wall, fighting back the darkness in the cavernous second chamber.  Cubbyholes had long ago been dug into the walls to hold old and worn out equipment.  Wooden boxes had been built to hold some of it.  Many of the items hadn’t been touched for so long they had gathered dust and rock particles.  All of it was tek manufactured long before he was born, on a completely different planet.  None of it functioned.  All of it was waiting a time when the items might be resurrected.  Trenekis was sure storing the worn out and non-functional equipment was ultimately a waste of space.

As time went on, less equipment was available for use.  Dalet’s shop would eventually become an anachronism as Hiera slipped further into a more primitive state.  Few people felt the way he did about the tek.  Dalet seemed to be increasingly complacent about the situation as the months went by, but it didn’t seem at all fair to Tren.  The hurt and anger started, washing over him like waves.  He didn’t expect to hear himself whimper.  He didn’t expect to feel his eyes fill up with tears as he draped the cloth over the finished bot.  Emotion nearly sapped his strength as he tied a cord around the bottom of the cloth, pulled the lightstick off the hook, went to the door, and exited.  The heavy iron door rattled as it always did when he shut it, squeaking on its three large hinges.  The salvaged titanium lock snapped shut flawlessly.  At least it still worked tirelessly, as had the bot, for two decades.  Who knew how long it had worked before that.

In a way, covering the machine was like covering a good friend who had just died.  Although he never once used the bot himself, it was another sliver of a past that had been useful and now wasn’t; another sliver of the past that forced them to rely once again on their own labor and the labor of beasts.

Today’s experience served to redouble his resolve.  He must go to the city.  He must!  He knew he didn’t dare tell Counselor Brem he was going.  He knew the man wouldn’t hear of it.  The counselor wasn’t like the others who he had discovered would defer to his strong will.  The counselor, despite his sickness, would probably give him a stern lecture and demand that he stay.  He’ll probably try to focus my attention on the danger, Tren thought.  Trenekis figured that once he turned up missing, Counselors Litu and Golona would be told where he had gone.  He didn’t dare tell them either.  All of those men had once lived in the city.  The elder group of people, like his parents, who had lived there seemed to have long ago written off the city and had no intention of ever returning.

Chapter 6

Taking what was needed from the preserved food storage round house had always been the method to obtain what was necessary.  Tren merely had to fill out the sheet to tally his withdrawal.  The two people working there would ask no questions as to why he needed anything.  The only item Trenekis signed for from his own shop was a rolled up bag containing the twelve spokes of an a-grav crate, along with a power supply module.  If anything of value were found in the city, the crate would be assembled from the spokes, lined with its unrolled impermeable siding, and activated.  The xoss beast would barely be aware of it being attached to the saddle on its back.

He and Keenam worked for nearly two hours the next morning before the first sun rose, packing their things onto three xoss beasts.  One would be for the majority of their belongings, the other two for them to ride.

Falla Osule found them before they mounted their beasts.  Her long brown hair bunched back, she was fully dressed for the day.  Trenekis stood next to his squat xoss as she came up to him and took his hands.

His feelings for her were, as ever, mixed.  Despite the fact that she was clearly cute and liked Tren, he frequently found himself growing impatient with her, shunning her feminine demeanor, asking her to be more ‘masculine’ in her approach to things, more adventuresome.  It was something she was only somewhat willing to do.  She was no tomboy.

She too knew that Trenekis could be headstrong, aloof, that he lacked what she easily found in other village boys: a tease, a coy turn of the head, a flirting smile.  Despite what she felt he was missing, he held an intelligence no one else had and a sense of determination she admired.  She was also well aware that Trenekis had a relationship with Keenam that she had no hope of intruding on.  Although her relationship with Tren was forced, she knew he would continue to give her affection, meted out in tiny bursts, often to be withdrawn ever so slightly if she got too close.  “Your mother told me you and Keenam were going to the city.  I’m scared for you, Tren,” she told him.

“We’ll be back as soon as we’re done getting what we need.”

She noted his nervous look.  She knew why.  Keenam was watching them.  She pecked his cheek.  He gave her a perfunctory kiss back, enjoying the moment but unable to feel what he knew Keenam would feel if he were doing it.

A half hour later, he and Keenam were headed away from Hiera.

*

The trail leading north out of the village wasn’t marked very well, nor was there a map to lead them away.  Because of that, Dalet had given Tren landforms to shoot for.  All that he remembered was that the city was some five days distant; possibly six if there was bad weather or the xoss beasts couldn’t be prodded to go faster.  They would have to find a way through or around the dunes and over the mountains because Dalet couldn’t remember how they had gotten past those two barriers.  Dalet did remember that the landscape undulated, and that each day’s journey should lead them to the crest or near the crest of the next landform.

Trenekis had a crude compass to keep their direction accurate.  Of course, another useful guide would be the stars.  Using his vidpad’s camera, he planned to take images of the surrounding area and record everything about their journey.  He would have Keenam narrate for short vids he would splice together later.  Unfortunately, they would have to stay on the vidpad since there was no way to transfer them to other media.  Tren already decided he would transcribe his descriptions into written format later on.  Keenam would study the hills as they journeyed through the scrubland, looking for certain rock formation, a barely perceptible trail, a stream, an angle of the mountains from their point of view.  His input would be invaluable to a safe return as well.  His expertise in finding game along the way would be even more valuable.

The village’s tilled fields receded to the south.  They were completely hidden from view now.  Hours into the journey the canyons started looking similar.  In essence, no one would have any idea that a village of many hundreds of people lay behind them.  Indeed, Trenekis almost felt a bit of panic knowing that.  It was as if they were the only two humans on the entire planet.  If not for his plan to make meticulous notations along the way, he felt as if they might not find their way back, but Keenam was far too good a tracker to allow that to happen.  Tren had an unparalleled understanding of the sky.  They weren’t going to get lost.

“Why do you suppose no one ever made any maps?” Trenekis asked aloud as he let his panic recede along with the village.

Keenam shifted his weight on the saddle of the six-legged beast as it lumbered along.  “I don’t think they wanted to go back, Tren.”

Despite that, Trenekis pulled the vidpad out, aimed the camera ahead of them and started recording.  He spoke aloud as Keenam added his own observations about their surroundings.  Even if they found nothing to help Counselor Brem, at least they would have a fully recorded map on how to get there.  That was a contribution, however small, Trenekis felt.

*

Fourteen hours later, they reached the edge of the immense Nolont dune field.  The dunes spread out before them in a huge semicircle.  Grasses and other short flora grew here and there, all reddish-brown, all dormant.  Going around the bowl would add a day.  The flat-footed xoss beasts were perfectly evolved to tread their way across sand.  Based on their observation, they decided to make way directly through the dunes and follow the lowest elevations.

Belat had already set by the time they made it to the foot of the first dune.  At the edge of the dune field it wasn’t so obvious how tall some of them were, but now this far into the sand mass it was quite obvious that some of them were nearly thirty meters high.  A natural trail meandered its way through, with wide spaces allowing easy passage along desert pavement.  Whether the trail continued all the way to the other side was impossible to tell just yet, but no matter.  The xoss beasts would be able to scale the sand and get them across.  On the other hand, if it became impossible to get across in a reasonable amount of time, they would have lost a day.  Coming back, they would skirt the dunes altogether.

An hour later, before twilight made its appearance, they came to a wide flat area, perfect for making their first camp.  They halted the xoss and unloaded items they would need for the night.

Surprisingly, several tala plants were growing here.  Clearly, there was water near the surface.  Otherwise, they wouldn’t have been able to grow here.  Trenekis eyed the tall one with the purple tassels.  It was the only mature one of the three and, surprisingly, the same strain used as a staple food source in the village.  Each had a single two-meter tall fat stalk that could be used as a post or sawn to make narrow planks, if dried properly.  The spongy branches grew in a radial pattern.  They were prized due to the pulpy pouches of complex carbohydrates and rich proteins beneath their thick skins.  Tren was particularly eager to dig deep enough to get to the five to six liters of pure water that could be harvested from the fibrous bag-like root nodules.  The fact that tala plants grew in this region was the main reason Hierans had thrived.

Keenam saw Tren eyeing the plant, then helped him with a shovel as they dug it from the ground.  Its ripe parts would supplement their meal tonight, the water pouches would add to their supply, and the inedible parts would be feed for the xoss beasts.  Regardless, the majority of their meal that evening came from the dried fruits, nuts, tubers and jerked meat strips they had brought with them.

As the xoss ate, Trenekis built a small fire from some of the scattered wood that was strewn along the trail.  The fact that so much wood was to be found proved that the dunes were on the move, exposing old piles of it.

The xoss had fallen asleep early, as was their nature after a long day of travel.  The fire crackled and glowed against the boys’ bare upper bodies as they sat cross-legged in front of it.  The tent was staked to the ground several meters away.

“Tren.”

“Yeah.”

“When Falla came to see you off today you seemed like you didn’t want her there.”

“I didn’t expect her to find us.”

“Why not?”

“It was early.”

“She’s up like every one else at that time.”

“I didn’t want her there.”

“But she’s yours.”

Tren didn’t want to discuss it and said nothing more.

Keenam poked the fire, knowing it was best not to say anything else.  He didn’t particularly like it when Tren reverted to stony silence when the topic came around to her.

Trenekis got up and moved over behind Keenam.  He went to his knees, dropped his arms across Keenam’s chest and caressed the boy’s warm flesh.  He nuzzled Keenam’s neck with his nose, reveling in his friend’s unwashed scent, the scent of the boy who had once craved Tren’s body more than anything.

“Tren, don’t,” Keenam told him gently, quietly.

“Shhh.”

Trenekis held Keenam in a tight embrace, then lightly kissed his cheek.  Slowly but surely Keenam’s breathing changed pace, his body responding to the sensuous way Trenekis held him, touched him.  Keenam took Tren’s wrists and held them, trying to stop him from raising his blood pressure.  Keenam whispered.  “Stop.”

“It’s only us here.”

“I… can’t.”

Trenekis rose up just enough to look down at Keenam’s crotch.  His erection was impossible to hide, even in the dim light of the fire.  Trenekis stood and pulled Keenam up with him, toward the tent.  Their sleeping pads had already been arranged side-by-side.  There was no one to stop them, no responsibilities to deter them from this moment.  Meretesh wasn’t going to accidentally stick her head into the tent.  Falla wouldn’t suddenly appear out of nowhere.  Trenekis untied the drawstring that held Keenam’s trousers up.  They dropped in a heap at his feet.  His upturned erection aimed at Trenekis.

Trenekis untied his too-tight trousers and stepped out of them.  Both completely naked now, they sucked in labored breaths and entered the tent.  Keenam dropped down on top of Tren who had taken the advantage and lay on his back.  They felt as if this was their first time as they groped, rubbed their bodies together, and passionately kissed.  After their sweat had mingled, after a myriad kisses were planted on each other’s bodies, Tren was finally on top.  Ever so often, flames leapt into the sky from the fire, framing his naked body.  His shadow danced over Keenam as he sat upright and straddled the boy’s loins.  Earlier, he had made sure that the small vial of slippery betis sap would be nearby.  He quickly opened it and poured some into his palm.  He then spit into it several times.  He grasped Keenam’s penis, moistening it.  After making sure he too was lubed up enough, he slowly impaled himself, taking control.  Keenam gasped as Tren sank all the way down.  It had been far too long since Keenam’s thick penis had filled him.

When Tren had discovered that it took very little to turn Keenam into an animal on the hunt, he never lost an opportunity to do so.  Keenam was that animal again.  Yet, so was Tren.  He was nearly always Keenam’s quarry.  This time Keenam was the hunted.

Keenam may have said no, but Tren knew he had merely been holding back.  Keenam needed this, too.  It was obvious from the way he grunted and moaned, pulled Tren down to meet him halfway to suck on his tongue, and took Tren’s rock hard penis in hand.

Tren slowly flexed his thighs, riding up and down.  It had been almost a full year since they had been together like this.  Tren wanted to draw it out, to savor each moment.  But that wasn’t to be the case.  More quickly than he wanted, Keenam’s breath became rapid fire, his body tensed, muscles becoming iron-tough sinews as he released himself.  Tren felt the pulses, like a heartbeat deep within him.  A second later Tren was next.  Simultaneous orgasms electrified their bodies.  Their moans spilled from the tent and echoed amongst the dunes.

Tren pulled himself upward.  Keenam’s penis fell heavily onto his abdomen with a wet smack.  Tren lay next to him, their swollen desires spent in streams of fire-hot liquid; their breathing still rapid, the perfume of sex filling the tent.

Long moments later, after he gave Keenam a cloth to clean himself up with, and after he cleaned himself up, Tren realized that this would indeed be the last time.  This night was to herald the watershed event.  It was truly over.  If he tried to seduce Keenam tomorrow night or the next, Keenam would say no and actually mean it.

It should have never happened again anyway, because it had ended a long time ago.

*

It was well after midnight.  Seventeen-year-old Trenekis had been dancing for hours now, unable to stop.  He didn’t feel tired despite the late hour and the long days previous helping prepare for the Second Harvest Festival.  Now and then Tren’s thoughts strayed to his upcoming birthday.  He would turn eighteen in three weeks.  Since Second Harvest was normally a time of plenty, the good mood of the village nearly always spilled into his birthday, which Trenekis felt was a boon.

The men and women playing their handmade woodwind, string and percussion instruments had taken only three breaks all evening.  Indeed, everyone felt the electricity of the event.  This was the biggest harvest ever.  The dam had been greatly enlarged since First Harvest.  The volcanic ash deposit, uncovered by one of the digbots months earlier, turned out to be particularly large and useful in making an excellent concrete.  More water meant more crops.  More crops meant the storage bins had to be enlarged.  There had been lots of expansion this year.  The village was beginning to spill out of Lancel Canyon and into the nearby ones.  More of the forest had been felled, shrinking it considerably.  The village was getting bigger before Tren’s eyes.

Jas, Rencen, Govet and the others had played dozens of frenzied jigs and a few slower ones so the boys and girls could dance as couples.  As was tradition at First and Second Harvest Festival, the girls selected boys.  A carefully choreographed procedure assured that everyone would be paired up during this evening.  Falla had, of course, chosen Trenekis for three dances and had continued to eye him during the last two, although she had been with Vel both those times.  Tren noted that Keenam was right, as he usually was about girls.  Falla had taken a distinct liking to him.  Tren, on the other hand, had no interest in her in the way that was expected.

Everyone was encouraged to have as much twel water as they liked.  Fermented from hallat flowers gathered in spring, it was always ready at Second Harvest.  Only slightly alcoholic, no one was denied.  Even children partook.  Despite his pulsing blood and the high emotion of the evening, Trenekis stopped to drink deeply, then redrew another cup.

“I told you she likes you,” Keenam said from behind Tren, referring to Falla.

Startled, Trenekis whirled around.  Keenam hadn’t been in sight for over an hour.  “Where did you come from?”

“Over there.”  He pointed to Meretesh Geiget.  She was Keenam’s age, nearly nineteen.  She had been chosen by his parents years ago.  She was watching, vigilant.  She eyed Trenekis briefly, then looked away.

“She does,” Trenekis said, answering Keenam’s assertion.  He wished the twel water was stronger.

“And you like her, too, right?”

“I guess.”

“You guess?”

“Okay, I do,” he lied.

“You don’t have to like her.  I’m just saying that she’s perfect for you since she already likes you.  Don’t go all dense on me again.  I’m trying to help.”

Why did Keenam have to come over and needle him?  Cup still in hand, Tren violently gestured with it.  “You’re not helping!” he shouted.  Its contents splashed across the tabletop.  He dropped the cup.  It clattered to the table’s surface, twirled around several times, then rolled off.  He had to get away.  He had no idea where, but he had to go.  Anger was boiling inside him.  Rather than let Keenam see it, he fled.

Keenam let him go.  Now wasn’t the time.  He hadn’t had the talk with Trenekis yet.  The one he had been postponing until when?  Now.  Damn it!  He was having such a good time.  He hesitated until well after Trenekis was no longer visible in the dark, then stamped his foot and trailed after the boy.

Trenekis kept going, past the water standpipe.  Nom and Ull, the two larger of the four moons, were nearly overhead, casting twin lights onto the path, preventing him from making a misstep here where no torches illuminated the dark.  He took the trail next to the creek.  Its gently flowing water was a dark reflective surface murmuring something he couldn’t quite catch, elusive as always.  He continued into the dark, beyond nearly all sound coming from the corralled festival area.  From his vantage, he could still see it lit up by torches and lightsticks, and hear the occasional strand of music or laughter bouncing off the canyon walls.

“Tren,” Keenam called out.  He knew Trenekis could hear him.  He stopped and listened for a response.  A flash of white further ahead, still on the trail, told him he was going in the right direction.  Trenekis was there all right.  He was just not stopping, not answering.  He hated it when Tren got this way.  Keenam strode faster, closing the distance.  Tren stopped by a lone seral pine.  Its long slender branches dozens of meters above his head blotted out the stars.

“Tren,” Keenam called out again.

“Go away,” Trenekis demanded.

Keenam could hear it.  Pain.  The pain that smoldered below the surface of the boy he loved with no regrets, and in a way he never fully understood nor cared to understand, even now as Trenekis slipped heavily into his moody doppelganger.

“You want her,” Trenekis yelled into the dark.  Accusing.  Stabbing.  Deliberately hurting.  It wasn’t until tonight that it really sunk in that Keenam wasn’t playing a game.  All this time he thought Keenam was teasing him.  Keenam would do that.  It was his nature.  But somewhere in the back of Tren’s mind, he was aware it was no act.  Keenam really, truly liked girls in a way Tren found completely foreign to him.

Keenam didn’t hesitate.  He finally caught up to Tren and encircled him with his arms, holding him while Trenekis struggled to break free.  But Tren went limp moments later.  He let Keenam hold on to him, so that he wouldn’t dissolve into nothingness.

“Tren, I-I need to tell you something.”  He held on tighter, sure Trenekis would bolt.  But Tren didn’t tense up.  Without hesitation, he took Tren’s face and kissed him.

Because of their relationship, he had learned a great deal about how to kiss properly.  Despite the fierce lust he felt being within eyesight of him, Keenam had listened.  How Tren wanted to be kissed.  What the boy liked.  What he needed.  How he responded.  The sense of satisfaction he felt knowing how to be with him was surprisingly satisfying.  But...

“Tren, listen to me.  I need her.  When I’m with her something inside me comes alive.”  This was terribly difficult.  Finding the right words to say about the unbelievably complex feelings he had about Tren and Meretesh was punishing him.  “Tren, look.  I’m not good at this.  I don’t use words the way you do.  I’m not as smart as you and never could be.  You know I want you, Tren.  But we can’t keep doing this.  You know why.  We’ve nearly been caught four times.  I’m keeping track.  And I know Meretesh suspects.”

Yes, Tren was very aware of those four times.  And he was surprised Keenam hadn’t outright told her.

The blackness was enveloping him again.  Despite the shield he imagined around himself most of the time – the bubble of joy that he consciously pressed outward like the heat of a fire – Tren felt it collapsing.  Despite the energy he exuded pressing it back, the dark tongues of blackness were finding their way toward him, licking him with anger, then drenching him with sadness.  Like always, he would feel raw until sleep allowed the feeling to slip away.  On occasion in dreams of sword fights, he defeated a faceless opponent, but not always.  In the morning after he awoke, if the enemy had been disposed of, he would be left with a terrible emptiness.  Keenam’s presence, his very existence in Tren’s life, never made it feel like loneliness, but rather like a black aloneness.

“I care for you like no other person in the village, Tren.  Even-even her.  I can’t imagine what life would have been like if you and me hadn’t... weren’t together right now.  But I have a need for her.  We’re going to make a home.  I want to have children with her.  She’s a well, Tren, a deep one.  I can’t climb out.”

“Please climb out,” Tren whispered.  “Please.”

“You know I can’t,” Keenam pleaded with him.

Keenam had discovered females were much more than they appeared on the surface.  It had happened late for him, but it had happened nonetheless.  He once thought that being with Tren had held him back, caused him to hesitate, to vacillate.  But in the last several months, that vacillation had completely disappeared.  He needed her more and more.  Yet, he still cared for Tren, so, that wasn’t it.  Tren hadn’t held him back.  If anything, their relationship had provided him with much needed preparation.  He was ready to walk into his life after he reached the Age of Inclusion, to help bring on the next generation of Hierans, to be an integral part of the village.  If only Tren would understand that.  If only he too would embrace the inevitable.

“She won’t do what I do,” Trenekis shot back.  He knew saying that was useless.  Keenam easily aligned himself with girls.  His imagination was far greater about them than Tren’s, especially with Meretesh.

“She can and she has,” Keenam told him defiantly, knowing he shouldn’t have said that.  But it was true.  She had, and he found he enjoyed it almost as much as when he was with Tren.  Almost.  But Tren didn’t have a soft voice.  Keenam was becoming enamored with hers.  She had the softest skin he had ever felt.  Tren’s was like his own, hairy in the right places, but rougher and considerably darker than his own.  She gave her body in a way that was indescribable.  Tren’s muscular frame, honed to near perfection as he’d grown and filled out, called to Keenam in a totally different way.  Perhaps it was because she had been an unknown creature to him until recently and he was still not used to it.  I didn’t matter that Tren’s hair was nearly as long as hers.  Hers was nothing short of beautiful.  Handsome was the proper word to use when he described Tren to himself.

At times, it seemed Keenam couldn’t decide what was better, being with her or being with Tren.  He knew Tren far better though.  Far, far better, despite how mysteriously Tren sometimes acted.  Meretesh wasn’t mysterious.  She was easy to understand so far.  His father had told him women could be impossible sometimes and to be forgiving for that.  He wasn’t sure that would be the case for Meretesh.  Maybe, just maybe, she would be easier to deal with than Tren.

Keenam felt Tren had been his teacher.  Be more gentle, Tren would say.  Kiss this way.  Touch me there.  Keenam did it all, telling Tren what to do to him and enjoying every second of their mutual exploration.  What they did together easily translated to being with her, but he knew Tren would never bear him a child, even if they lived to be old men.  To think how many times he had practiced with Tren.  So many times!  Yet, they could have sex until they were ancient and there would be no children.  They would never live to be old men if the counselors, Tren’s parents, or his, found out about their relationship.  Banishment meant certain death.  There were no other villages to fall back on.  Kelesat wasn’t an option.  The very thought of it gave him shivers of fear.

Keenam had one of Tren’s legs between his own, pressing himself closely as he always did when they were alone together.  Keenam was half-hard this very second.  Tren was very aware of that.  For that alone Tren told himself they were meant to be touching.

“We have to end this, Tren.  Tonight.”

Tren felt everything slipping away, further from his reach, even as Keenam held him tightly.

*

Tren and Keenam lay together in the tent.  The cloth Tren had used to wipe them dry only moments ago was balled up by his head.  The soft murmur of wind in the dunes had a strange hollow sound to it.

Keenam’s left hand held onto Trenekis’s chest from behind, occasionally stroking his hair, then lightly brushing the sun-bleached down of his forearm.  “You can’t keep having me,” he said.

Keenam couldn’t see Tren’s eyes in the dark tent.  Eyes that smarted, that were filled with images of beautiful naked Keenam, smiling at him; showing Trenekis his muscles, letting him stroke his iron-hard erection, putting its entire length in his mouth, impaling himself on it….  All the things Trenekis loved.  None of which would happen again.  As much as that angered and saddened Tren and made him feel rejected, he couldn’t deny the fact that he and Keenam would remain friends.

Tomorrow they would continue their journey to the city.  Keenam wouldn’t want to talk about what happened tonight.  He wouldn’t want to have a conversation that might make him have to confront Tren’s still-burning desire.  Trenekis felt stupid for pursuing it again.  He didn’t know how long it took him to fall asleep.

Perhaps it was one of the xoss beasts shaking itself, or maybe the wind had picked up again, rustling the tent.  Maybe it was just that Keenam had shifted positions.  Trenekis was awake, as he was so often in the middle of the night.  Wiping sleep from his eyes, he quietly crawled out of the open-faced tent.  The narrow arcing band of the Milky Way shone in the shimmering cloudless black.  Ull would be rising soon.  Nom would be rising an hour or so later.  It didn’t take activating the vidpad to know that.  Nonetheless, it was time to do so.  He had planned to scale the dune to the left sometime tonight anyway, observe the sky and record whatever he could find, perhaps the exact time Ves and Cham, the two smaller moons, rose.  They were more difficult to keep track of since they scurried across the sky as if fleeing some never-ending celestial nightmare.  Maybe he would look at the reddish nebula in the Man with the Stick constellation.  He might stay for about an hour before sleep overcame him again.  He never slept through the night without waking up several times.  It had always been this way for him.

There was no need to bother dressing.  The night air was warm, as it always was.  It felt good against his naked skin.  Despite already having an orgasm a few hours ago, his penis swelled, but not to full glory.  He wanted it to stay put.  I’ve already taken care of you, he thought.  Yet, it stayed inflated, a satisfying feeling.  That was okay as long as it didn’t intrude any further.  He had things to do and masturbating wasn’t one of them, at least, not right now.  Maybe before he returned from the dune.  Maybe while lying on his back, looking up at the jewel-dotted sky.  He loved doing that.

He pulled the vidpad from his pack, slung the strap on the tube that protected the telescope over his shoulder, and headed away from the tent.  The sand squeaked at each footstep as he trudged up the dune face.  It was rough going due to the steep incline, but by taking slow half-steps he was finally at the top minutes later.  His penis had gotten the message within a minute of starting upward and had relaxed, no longer pestering him for attention.

The Bellis Cluster greeted him first.  Its bright white stars shined so brightly that their combined light made a shadow on the sand as he put the vidpad down and lay on his back.  He pulled the telescope out of its protective tube and held it up.  Without a proper mount, it was difficult to keep his hands steady.  Nonetheless, he let his gaze roam across the sky, looking for anything of interest.  But he couldn’t concentrate.  He carefully slid the telescope back into the tube, put the cap on the end, then lay back again.  He clasped his hands behind his head and drew his knees up.  He let his mind wander, not really looking at the sky now.

That was the wrong thing to do.  There was a terrible convergence taking place.  It was impossible to ignore.  He was at the center of a storm.  The man who had saved his life, provided hours of wisdom, and looked directly into his eyes to straighten him out when he felt lingering anger at some imagined slight, was dying.  The man who had so often shared a meal in their home with his family, his surrogate uncle who felt an undying responsibility for his upbringing, even when there were other much more important tasks to perform.  The task of making sure Hiera survived, that its people were safe, that everyone was fed and clothed, and that justice was served at all times, seemed far more important than a single individual.  Tren had never understood why the man had taken such an interest in him, but he knew why now.

Finding anything of value in the city was a long shot at best.  Tren knew that.  He wasn’t that thickheaded.  The possibility of finding what he needed was going to take pure luck, but he had to try.  He had to because he loved Votig almost as much as he loved Ayvik.  Ayvik is my father, he assured himself.  Ayvik is!

His thoughts shifted to Keenam.  Tren tried hard to understand Keenam’s role in his life now after their virgin start at Sanctuary, their meanderings into the forest, in their bedrooms, the shower facility, the storage vault where all the dead tek went, and dozens of other places.  Fleeting as it ever was, they were all cherished times to be savored but not continued, ever again.  The relationship they had shared was truly in the past.  There was no way to resurrect it.  Keenam would grow old with Meretesh, while he?  He would continue to feel claustrophobic, squeezed into an ever tighter space.  The irony of that wasn’t lost on him.  He loved staring up at the sky.  As much as he longed to fly up high into the sky and look down on Ithos, it would never happen in reality.  Instead, that beautiful night sky was become a crushing weight as he accepted his place in the village.

He had only a few more weeks to declare his marriage date.  That’s how it was done in Hiera, a public announcement.  Falla would have to bear his children.  He would be required to do so for her.  He knew he could do it.  When did his penis not spring to life when he wanted it to, or worse, when he didn’t?  But he would have to lie about who he was inside, who he was truly attracted to, and what he really wanted in a relationship.  She would be party to that.  He would watch Keenam’s life play out, growing happier as he got older.  But not Tren.  The anger and the sadness at how things had turned out would grow worse.  Far worse.  He just knew it would.

That wasn’t all.  He had overheard Dalet talking with his father less than a week ago.  Dalet knew that within a few years the need for Tren in the maintenance shop would be nearly non-existent.  Not enough of the tek would remain for them to even bother to have a shop.  His father was going to have a talk with him after his return.  Tren should turn his attention to lotions, dyes, resins, coatings, oils and other such liquids that were the lifeblood of the village.  It would be a very useful profession.  He would have far less time to transcribe the files he already had mentally put in order.  There were hundreds of them containing wonders that he could still barely make sense of.  But he knew they would one day be useful once the village became larger, once enough people were born that had an ability to understand higher mathematics and concepts, who could invent metals and processes unheard of in the village right now, to advance their place on Ithos several levels above the beasts.

But it all depended on water, and water was becoming a problem.  It was happening slowly but surely.  The creek was filling up more slowly each Year Start.  They had had to build that dam to make sure they had enough for the crops.  The edge of the Saban Forest had crept back considerably since he first started playing there, before that second time with Keenam – that breathless day that had lingered forever in his memory and proved what had happened on the mesa only days before wasn’t an accident, wasn’t a fluke, was meant to be, and had lasted for years.

Everything was slipping away.  Everything.  No matter how hard he or anyone else tried, the village was going to get further and further behind as the tek died, just as Votig would die soon.  It was inevitable.

Hiera called, but so did a future of his own choosing.  It kept gnawing at him.  Look for me.  I’m still here, it kept whispering.  What special language did he know that allowed him to hear that voice?  Why did he always have to hold out hope that something would change for him, that he wouldn’t eventually have to give in, to give up.

Tren knew he shouldn’t have done it.  He shouldn’t have leaned back and stared at the unceasing endless sky without something to keep his attention.  Doing so had emptied his thoughts until only what was obvious remained.  That’s what brought the tears.  They welled up and spilled into his ears.  He balled up his fists and squeezed his eyes tightly, trying to hold them off.  But it was no use.  He sat up, shook his head, then wiped his face.  Tren wrapped his arms around his legs, pressing his knees against his chest.  Nothing was going right.  Nothing!  And nothing could stop it from happening.

What is that, Tren wondered.  Alarmed, he released his legs and wiped his eyes again.  He stood and stared at the bright point of light as it traveled in a straight line from west to east.  If he hadn’t been looking up in the sky just then, he would never have noticed it.  And it was no meteor.  He had seen hundreds of them.  They flared in an always-short vector, then nearly instantly faded.  This was a steady bright glowing object moving at a constant speed.  It was something he had never seen before and was mesmerized by its very existence.  Indeed, his mouth dropped open.

Ull vaulted above a peak of the nearby Jaster Mountain range.  As if in a race, and much closer to the horizon Cham leapt ahead of Ull, both of their glows attempting to wash out the object’s steady light.      For a moment, Tren felt like waking Keenam to tell him about this unusual sighting.  But, no, it was the middle of the night.  Watching the sky was his private endeavor.  Keenam preferred to keep his attention firmly on or near ground level, indelibly imprinting landmarks into his memory, watching the curve of the landscape.  Instead, Tren stayed put as he watched the bright object continue across the sky.  The tall dune behind him finally obscured it, but he was sure it was headed toward the far horizon.

Chapter 7

“Attention, all hands.  Breakout from grayspace in thirty minutes,” Captain Abarru announced over the ship’s comm.

It’s about time, Niko thought.  Nine weeks is long enough.  There had been plenty of boring stretches despite the numerous shipboard diversions.  Could he tolerate a one hundred light-year jump and more than eighteen weeks outside of normal space?  He knew he dared not voice a complaint.  If cold sleep had been used to get this far, a generation of people would have been born and died on Eridanus Prime before that announcement had been made.

“JNS protocol begins now,” the captain added.  Jump-to-normal-space protocol was to be observed.  The transition from gray into normal space had long been known to cause random non life-threatening glitches to otherwise perfectly functioning systems.  Thus, the ship’s crewmen were to watch for any anomalous readings that might accompany their transition.

Everyone strapped in to their assigned seats.  Shipmaster Arita was to Niko’s right.  He slid a couple of fingers across the display screen to arrange sensor readouts.  Arita would be Commander Hittan’s co-pilot when the shuttle was released for descent.  Hittan, co-pilot under Captain Abarru while underway, would pilot them to the surface after they established orbit.  The hierarchy of pilot command was important to train the next people in line for this work.  The captain wouldn’t be going to the surface.  In fact, it was illegal.  Captain Abarru had no interest in doing so anyway.

Niko couldn’t believe he had gotten distracted watching Arita.  More quickly than he realized, the captain was counting down from five.  A microsecond after the captain had spoken ‘one’, their forward displays turned black.  A quarter second later the brightest stars were visible.  To the left on their screens twin stars shone brightly.  Near the center was a bright red dot.  Yep, thought Niko, this is the system.

“Gentlemen, we’ve arrived,” the captain announced.

From somewhere behind him Niko heard a few claps.  It had to be the crew.  None of the survey guards would dare do that.

*

Centuries earlier, deep space scans had revealed, via eclipsing binary minima timing, that at least one planet lay in this system’s life zone.  Later, polarimetric and photometric imaging, along with precision spectroscopy, revealed its diameter, an oxygen-rich atmosphere with traces of methane, year-round water, clouds; that it had near-Earth normal gravity, and a tectonically active or semi-active lithosphere.  It was the very definition of a Class A planet, which meant it had the potential for colonization.  The only problem was how far away the planet was from humanity.  But the issue of how to get there in a reasonable amount of time had finally been solved.  Now that survey missions were the norm, the issue could finally be satisfied by close-up investigation.  The survey team would either give the planet their blessing, or not, and the only way to make sure was to land, collect mountains of data, and bring up plenty of samples.

The survey team was so excited about their arrival that a working late lunch was served in the large meeting room.  Although each member of the team had gone over the long range data numerous times, it was mostly out of date, being nearly fifty years old.

The captain spoke up as everyone finished eating.  “Gentlemen, and lady,” the captain said to Dr. Sepp.  “We’ll go over the roster for the record.”  He pressed an icon on the tabletop to start the session recording.  “This meeting is now in order.  KAI, time and date stamp these proceedings.”

The ship’s KAI was an average-looking holographic woman in her mid-forties.  Her physical appearance was chosen to maintain respect among the younger men on board.  She appeared near the far wall and looked at the members around the table.  “Proceedings are recorded on this date and time.  You may begin,” she told them.

“We have arrived at the triple-star system designated 5C 6900 +25.  Standard orbit has been achieved around target planet AS-232 and we have completed...” he stopped and had KAI complete his sentence.

“Five orbits,” she quickly said for him.

“Five orbits,” he repeated as he nodded.  “As soon as prelim data has been analyzed, the survey team will descend to their first sample area.  Personnel on this mission are astrophysicist Dr. Pendafar Beld.  First Guard Olkin Unell is Dr. Beld’s meteorologist and climatologist.  Next is our exo-biologist Dr. Velabay Sepp.  Second Guard Torm Ezic is her botanist and evolutionary biologist.  Last is Dr. Gelagajen Kem, geophysicist, accompanied by First Guard Niko Savaidras, his savant geologist.”

Both Ezic and Unell hissed briefly at the mention of the word ‘savant’.  It wasn’t the first time that expression had been used when referring to Niko.  The captain cracked a slight smile.  He enjoyed riling up the boys.  “By this time if you all don’t know each other there is a problem.”

A short ripple of chuckles went through the room.

“KAI, any data you’d like to reveal?”

KAI, who had been listening to everything without expression, spoke up.  “Initial scans show two terrestrial planets in this system, only one of which is Class A.  Currently designated as AS-232, it is the second planet in orbit around the binaries.  Shunting astrophysical data to Dr. Beld.”  KAI pointed to the conference table as it lit up in front of Dr. Beld.

Dr. Beld slid a few fingers against the edges of several images to resize them.  He took a moment to evaluate the data.  It was technically pretty standard.  “The three stars in this system are all main sequence,” he began, “as has been known for centuries.  The larger two orbit around a mutual center of gravity every seventy-two days.  The primary is an orange K-class star, nearly identical to Epsilon Eridani.  The secondary is a G-class, slightly less luminous than Sol.  The third star in this system is a typical red dwarf, spectral class M.  Red dwarf stars can be, shall we say, a little unruly.  Unell and I will stay on board while the rest of you are on the first run to the surface.  He will take climatic zone data readings and interpret the meteorological data.  I will plot spectroscopic and telescopic analyses of the dwarf to create a baseline.  With several days’ worth of data, we’ll be able to project just how much that star flares.  Of course, the geologic record will be of great help in determining the amount and frequency of flaring.  We’ll include that data once it becomes available.”  He looked up to the captain.

The captain nodded.  “Dr. Kem?”

“Yes, sir,” he responded cheerfully.  Dr. Kem tended to be the most upbeat of the three survey scientists, something that Niko found refreshing and to his liking.  The majority of the men and women scientists he’d been in space with had tended to be a bit on the stuffy side.  Not so Dr. Kem.  This man was different and he had been glad for that.  “First Guard Savaidras and I will be going to the surface after initial visual and lithometric scans are completed and analyzed.  That will help us isolate places where significant ore deposits are located.  We’ll do local scans to further refine the viability of near surface metal ores and determine some initial values.  Time permitting, we hope to find some choice sedimentary samples to help Dr. Beld add to his timeline.  Let’s hope, gentlemen, that this planet becomes a valuable asset.”

“Yes, let’s,” the captain quickly responded.  “I get a bonus if that’s the case.”  He grinned.

There was another ripple of chuckles.

“Dr. Sepp?” the captain said.

“Second Guard Ezic will accompany me to the surface.  While Dr. Kem and First Guard Savaidras are doing their geological scans we will scout the local flora and fauna, identify taxa upon our return, and attempt to group them into initial clades.  We will be very interested in determining whether seed plants are evident, whether they can eventually be cultivated; and do our chemical analyses of the protein viability of the flora and fauna.  We’ve got to eat, gentlemen, so let’s hope there are no cute creatures which might preclude that endeavor.”

There was once again a ripple of light laughter.

The men went over standard landing protocols that would be observed once they reached the surface, and the meeting adjourned an hour later to the science observation lab.

The science observation lab was a round room seven meters across.  It had double doors at opposite ends of the room.  A round central control console occupied the middle of the room.  Around it was seating for eight.  Currently, the survey team members occupied six of the chairs.  All of the ship’s sensor data was fed here.  Any part of the control console surface could be used as a display to configure data, as needed.  The curved walls of the room were capable of displaying the gathered data in various formats, whether text, pictures, vids or holos.  The walls were currently dark.

The team was filtering sensor data into useful informational tables, graphs, charts.  Live visual feeds were scattered all across the console, as well.

Niko looked over Unell’s shoulder as he varied the output from the visual spectrum analyzer.  Changing it would allow him to see down through various levels of the atmosphere.  “See any hotties down there?” Niko asked.

Unell shook his head.  “Not a titty to be seen anywhere.”  He didn’t look up.

“Uh, that’s not what I meant.”

“Nothing for you, either,” Unell told him.

Second Guard Ezic was to Niko’s left and casually responded as well.  “Savaidras, if we find anything worthy of our manliness, we’ll let you know.  In the meantime, keep out of this.”

Niko grinned.  It was all good-natured ribbing though, which Niko was quite used to.

Since no evidence of alien civilizations had ever been even hinted at anywhere in any sector of explored space, everyone knew there was essentially a zero probability of finding anything even remotely alien here either.  In fact, no carrier waves had ever been found anywhere in space.  No signals of any kind had been recorded coming from this system, nor had any type of energy signature been detected on the surface or anywhere nearby since they had arrived.  If they had, KAI would have instantly alerted them.

Unell spoke first as he read the data.  The planet didn’t have a global ocean, so they already knew it was going to be dry.  “The planet has quite a thick atmosphere with several more layers than either Eridanus Prime or Earth.  There’s a thermal barrier that appears to be what protects it from the intense radiation of two suns.  Climatic zones truncated at both ends of the scale.  I don’t detect any tropical or arctic climes.  The majority of the planet is semi-arid.  The five interconnected seas are quite a bit saltier than Earth’s or the Great Southern Ocean on Eridanus Prime.  One of the seas is experiencing quite the thunderstorm right now.  It’s covering the majority of its northern half.”

“Make sure we get some data on how extreme that storm gets,” Dr. Beld told him.

“Yes sir,” Unell replied.  He pressed a few icons on the screen to request that KAI keep track of the storm with each orbit.

Niko was next.  He had been working on arranging his display as well.  He read off some of the data.  “Planet density reading shows two-tenths greater than Earth and three-tenths greater than Eridanus Prime, mainly due to the lack of a global ocean.  Reflectivity chemical analysis indicates the usual silicates covering the majority of the surface, with a few basaltic regions that may be due to volcanic or tectonic activity.  We’ll need more analysis to determine which.  I’m already detecting surface mineral deposits.  Another couple of hours of scans should do it to determine shallow sub-surface ore contents.

“There are three continental mountain ranges across the northern hemisphere and two spanning the majority of the southern one.  A detailed topographical map, minus cloud cover, should be available in nine more orbits.  There are a few glaciers on the northern hemisphere mountaintops but that’s about it for ice cover.”

Dr. Kem spoke up after Niko.  “Give us five more orbits to determine a primary target zone for those surface minerals.  Dr. Sepp?”

The exo-biologist was busy changing the resolution on the scanner result.  “Detailed chemical analysis of the atmosphere, along with color reflection spectrometry, indicates plentiful methane, photosynthesis, and a variety of other life indicators.  Unell, what’s that final atmospheric composition reading?”

“Nitrogen, seventy-five percent; oxygen, twenty-four percent.  The rest is CO_2and other trace gasses.  We have ourselves a winner, folks.”

A cheer came from everyone.  Twenty minutes later, they were done with their preliminary data analysis.

Chapter 8

The campsite was an hour behind them now.  Keenam returned from the top of the tallest nearby dune after looking for a trail through them.  One did indeed meander through the desert pavement, skirting most of the dunes.  As Keenam approached, he eyed Trenekis, trying to see if he was still in his funk.  “We keep going on this trail.  I say about an hour more and we’re clear of the dunes.”

Trenekis didn’t reply.

“Tren,” Keenam said, as he hopped up onto his saddle.

“What,” Trenekis stated flatly.

“You’re in one of your moods.”  He knew how Trenekis could sometimes be early in the morning.

Trenekis still didn’t answer him.  He was indeed brooding.

“If it’s about last night, you shouldn’t have started it.”

“And you shouldn’t have ended it,” Tren told him as they lumbered ahead.

“That’s not fair and you know it.”

Trenekis didn’t say anything else.  He shouldn’t have even said that because he wasn’t angry at Keenam.  In fact, he was keenly aware of how close he felt to Keenam right now, but he knew he couldn’t say anything about that.  Somehow, he would have to stop feeding his obsession with someone who he could never fully have, but his sour mood had nothing to do with last night.  “I’m sorry.  It’s not that.  It’s something else.  Something Counselor Brem told me.”  Tren pulled his stead to a stop.

Keenam wasn’t expecting Trenekis to come to a stop.  Xoss could be difficult to control sometimes.  It continued several meters before it fully halted.  It would have taken far too long to turn it around.  Keenam jumped down and walked back to Trenekis.  “What is going on with you?”  Frustration sounded in his voice.

Trenekis dismounted, too.  He clutched Keenam’s bicep.  “I have something awful to tell you.”

“Okay,” Keenam said slowly.

“I’m Arasen’s son.”

“Hah, hah, funny,” Keenam said with an exasperated look on his face.

Trenekis shook his head and wouldn’t release his grip.

Keenam saw the look in his eyes.  He wasn’t joking.  Keenam started shaking his head.

“Counselor Brem told me,” Tren assured him.

“But, your parents…,” Keenam said as he looked back in the direction of Hiera ever so briefly.

“They adopted me.  No one ever told me.”

“W-what?”

Trenekis told him everything.  It took ten minutes.  Keenam slapped his forehead, turned around, walked away a few steps, then came back.  He did that twice.  It was the craziest thing he’d ever heard.  How had everyone kept this so secret?

Tren finished, exhausted.  “You can turn back if you want.”

“Why?”

“Because you hate me.”

Keenam took him and hugged.  “Shut up,” he demanded.  “Just shut up!”

Trenekis held on to him, realizing he had been preparing himself for the worst possible reaction.  As usual, his fear was unrealized.  Keenam was never like that to him.  The news made him respond precisely the opposite way, as Keenam was wont to do.

“You’re not going back?”  Tren asked anyway.

Keenam pulled away and looked him in the eye.  “Tren, you’re my friend.  Counselor Brem is dying.  I don’t care who your real father was.  None of that matters.  Besides, from what I heard of him you’re nothing like him.  And don’t start being like him now.  Not with me.  I won’t like it one bit.”

As usual, Trenekis was grateful that despite his foul moods Keenam was always there for him, to keep him planted firmly on the ground, to prove that what was going on inside his head wasn’t nearly as awful as it made him feel.  That was Keenam: rock solid, filled to the brim with emotional constancy, a friend despite Tren’s nightmares.

Keenam brushed a lock of hair off Tren’s cheek.  He couldn’t disown or exit Tren’s life even if he was forced to.  Trenekis was that mysterious part of himself that didn’t quite fit and yet fit perfectly.  Trenekis had a sense of wonder inside him that he himself had, but Tren’s was far deeper.  Trenekis had an extremely high tolerance for ambiguity and a love of mystery that unnerved Keenam most of the time, yet, there was something magnetic about that.  Trenekis was a mirror image of himself who wanted to be with a boy, but for him it had somehow darkened over time because of his love for Meretesh.  Trenekis was someone who could feel deeply one minute, then think thoughts that were impossible to follow in the very next.  Keenam had no idea how Tren could swing back and forth like that, but he found it decidedly enticing if not terribly scary, even after all these years, even after having experienced all of it many times.  That was Trenekis.  That was why he couldn’t possibly hate him or turn back, even now.  Even with this disturbing news still swirling inside his head about Arasen.

They mounted the xoss and kicked their sides to start them back up.  The boys continued until they were completely through the dune field.  The Jaster Mountains loomed ahead several kilometers away.  They found a tall rock pile and stopped at its base.  Keenam picked his way to the top, decided on a course, then pointed the way forward.

At some time, perhaps before either of them were born, both tubes of Keenam’s binoculars worked perfectly, allowing for determining range.  Since only the right side still worked, the left remaining dark no matter what anyone had ever done to the unit, they were unable to use them for determining how far it was to the obvious low spot between the two peaks ahead.  Nonetheless, it was quite clear which direction to take.  A huge alluvial fan spread out before them, strewn with occasional rocks and boulders.  A meandering dry stream bed led up to the opening in the mountains.  Lucky for them, the xoss beasts would lumber right along while the boys rode on their backs.

An hour into their uphill journey they were high above the dune field.  When they looked back, they were able to see where they had camped last night.

“Hey, I saw the most bizarre thing last night,” Trenekis said after he looked back at the dunes.

“When.”

“After we… fell asleep.”  He was surprised he had essentially forgotten about it until just now.

“Oh, you got up, huh?”

“As usual.”

“In the sky?”

Tren nodded.  Of course in the sky.  Where else did he ever look?  “It was brighter than Jaselade.”  Jaselade was the bright white star that hung over the southern sky half the year.

“Ooh, Trenekis saw a star,” Keenam said playfully.

“No.  It was the weirdest thing.  It was moving across the sky.”

“So, it was a meteor.”

Tren shook his head.  “It didn’t burn out.  It kept going until it was out of sight.”

Keenam thought for a moment.  “Maybe they found us,” he said.

Trenekis chuckled.  Spoken only in quiet conversations by the older folks were furtive discussions about the places they had lived before they came to Ithos. Trenekis had asked about that once.  No one knew which direction they had come from.  Because of that, he was sure that no matter how hard he tried, no matter how many telescopes he had, no matter how large their lenses were, and no matter how long he searched and mapped the sky, he too would never be able to find them.  It wasn’t even worth trying.  Eventually, someone might be able to invent a receiver capable of listening for humanity’s signals, but that wouldn’t happen for decades, if not centuries.  To know that somewhere in the dark infinite sky other people lived who he would never be able to talk to, muse with or ever see, wasn’t a comfort.  It supremely saddened him.

“Maybe they did,” Trenekis said offhandedly, sure he was wrong.

Warm dry breezes, as always, caressed their sleeveless shoulders.  The ubiquitous sunscreen all Hierans wore was doing its job and kept their already tanned skin from burning.  The opening between the peaks ahead beckoned them.  From this vantage, it looked like they would have to dismount and lead their xoss beasts through the steeper area ahead.  Another hundred meters further and they had to do just that.

It was slow going.  Luckily for the beasts, six legs came in very handy.  Soon enough they were at the top and over the other side.  From there, Keenam used the monocular to determine their best route down into the scrub below.

Getting to the bottom of the mountain range wasn’t easy either.  Large boulders made the descent difficult.  Further on, dense tufts of tall yellow hoyert grass grew everywhere.  The tufts were taller than either of them.  Because they clumped so close together, they presented even more of a barrier because they hid a lot of the boulders.  They slowly plowed through them.  Their xoss beasts took great mouthfuls of them as they walked.  Their thick legs smashed those they didn’t eat.  Finally, they were past the grass and boulders and out into open flat scrubland once again.

More than once during that segment of the journey, Trenekis wondered how their parents even got to the village.  The obstacles they had had to negotiate to get to Lancel Canyon appeared to be many and varied for such a large number of people.  Perhaps they had sent people on foot ahead of them to scout the territory.  Perhaps they had bypassed the Jaster Mountains altogether.  Their desperation to get far away from the city must have driven their determination.

The rest of the day was spent making a beeline across the terrain.  Later that evening they set up camp by a dry wash and ate.  The xoss beasts were busy eating too, munching on the bundles of hoyert grasses they had cut for them during their passage through the virtual forest of them.

“I’m going to stay up and see if I can see that light again.  You should stay up with me,” Trenekis said.

“That’s your job.  I’ll just fall asleep.  I always do.  You know that.”

“I need another set of eyes.  What if you’re right?  What if someone found us?”

“I was kidding, Tren.  Even if it really is a ship, how would they find us?  They’d have an easier time finding a flock of fanto bats.”

Trenekis couldn’t argue with that.  “I’m going to watch anyway.”

Later, Trenekis searched the sky with his telescope for anything unusual, but found nothing of note tonight, so only recorded when Ves and Cham rose.  Scattered cloud prevented good viewing anyway.  He didn’t see the light making its way across the sky again.  Before he realized it, he was yawning far too much and found his eyelids growing heavy.  His concern after telling Keenam who his real father was came to mind, but he was too tired to let it bother him any further.  He stuffed the telescope back into its tube and secured it to the saddle of his slumbering xoss beast.

Keenam was already fast asleep when he made his way into the tent and shed his trousers.  Despite himself, he kissed Keenam’s shoulder before he snuggled against the boy’s bare backside, grew hard doing so, then fell into a dead sleep moments later.

Chapter 9

Thirty-two-year old Elder Votig Brem answered the knock at the front door of his home.  Three other elders, Cax Geven, Follit Golona and Nebb Litu were ushered inside.

“I asked you to not get here at the same time,” he told them sternly.

Follit spoke up for them.  “We ran in to each other.”

“You weren’t followed,” Votig half-asked, half-stated.

“You’re being paranoid,” Follit offered.

“For good reason,” Votig shot back.

Follit let out a loud sigh.  “Let’s just get on with it.”

The men retreated to a windowless back room of Votig’s home.  Several chairs had already been set up.  Everyone, except for Votig, took a seat.  It was going to be stuffy back here but he wanted absolute privacy.  His wife was out and had taken his daughter with her.  She knew nothing.  She wasn’t supposed to know.  Only these men did.

Hidden at the bottom of a closet underneath a basket of clothing, Votig retrieved a rectangular object wrapped in a black cloth and tied with twine.  He unknotted the cord and pulled back the flaps of the cloth, revealing a vidpad’s shiny black casing.  He set it on the table in the middle of the room, sat too, then pressed the on button.  It sprang to life and immediately presented a logon request.  Votig spoke two words and the screen changed.  He told the device to make a new folder and open it.  Empty, it awaited further instructions.

Cax pulled the bag from over his shoulder and unbuckled the flap.  He pulled another nearly identical vidpad and sat it next to the one Votig had activated.  Cax told his vidpad to transfer all ninety-three exabytes of data into the open folder on Votig’s vidpad.  The process started and displayed a time-remaining information box.  It would take nearly fifty-three minutes until their surreptitious endeavor would be finished.  They would wait.

Nebb reached into a pocket and pulled out a small cloth sack.  He opened it in his palm to display ten caracasis nuts.  Each of the men took one.  Despite their pounding hearts at this clandestine activity, the stimulant was still welcomed.

Votig took one and, without warning, emitted an unmistakable sound.  He turned his face, unable to control his emotions and equally unable to bear the embarrassment he felt weeping in close quarters with his friends.  All eyes were on Votig.

Nebb reached out and placed a kind hand on the man’s shoulder.  “I’m sorry,” he said.

“Don’t be,” Follit told Nebb.  “He had no choice.”

“Still, I can sympathize, can’t I?”

“That’s what gets one killed,” Follit told him.  “If Arasen had a clue...”

“He won’t!” Nebb told him angrily.

Follit chuckled.  He still had serious doubts about that.

Nebb didn’t like it that Follit was making light of the situation.  “Arasen may think he knows everything, but we know he doesn’t.  Unless you plan to say something.”

Follit immediately wiped the smirk off his face.  “Don’t even suggest it again,” he told the man decidedly.

Follit, not usually given to being overtly emotional, let his guard down suddenly, reversing his previously harsh demeanor.  He too placed a hand on Votig’s shoulder.  Their plan was far too important to let this joyless day get the better of them now.

“I should have stopped him,” Votig said, referring to Arasen.

“If you had, you would be the one out in the scrub right now.  Don’t forget that,” Follit reminded him.

No one was happy about what had happened to Howsen.  He refused to memorize the Steps of the Path as demanded by Arasen.  He repeated far too often that it was easier to refer to the vids when he needed to know details.  Soon enough, his refusal became anger, then outright open disgust with Arasen.  Howsen knew where that would lead him.  He wasn’t the first.  He was the fifth.  All had been at Votig’s hand after he had become Arasen’s most trusted advisor.  There would be others sent away, maybe even a purge.  It was only a matter of time before Arasen would demand one.

Arasen’s initial beneficent rule was devolving.  At first, it had been the odd decrees here and there that had them scratching their heads.  But in the last year, it had transmuted into something arbitrary and ugly.  It was far more ugly than any of them had suspected could or would ever happen because everything had gone downhill so slowly.  These men, who were part of Arasen’s inner circle, found a new loyalty: to themselves.  They discovered they were living with a horrible desperation.  A desperation that wasn’t limited to only them.  Arasen’s rule was slowly and inexorably crumbling.  Before it crumbled to dust, a lot more people were going to die because of his bizarre decrees.

“How many did you get?” Votig asked Nebb.

Nebb drew in a deep breath, bit down on the caracasis nut, swallowed and replied.  “I was able to copy the contents of three other vidpads today.  That’s as many as I dared do without being obvious.”  Their collective goal was to have one vidpad contain the contents of nearly everything they could get their hands on.  With enough time, even the data in the bots, with their huge storage capacity, would eventually be transferred to Votig’s vidpad.

“That’s fine,” Votig told him.  “After this transfer is completed, mine will contain the data of twenty-three different devices.  Yours can go into storage and won’t be missed.”

“Except by me,” Nebb said angrily.  Nebb’s thoughts strayed to the underground storage room across from the south water tower.  Months ago, Arasen had ordered one of the bots to start digging to his specifications in that spot.  No one was told why Arasen had ordered the construction of the large rectangular hole.  At first, not even Votig knew.  Arasen had only smiled, as if he had a big secret.  The resulting chamber had been lined with concrete, roofed over with thick planking, patched with resin, then covered with the dirt that had been dug up.  At the bottom of a wide staircase, a story below ground level, iron doors were placed across the wide entrance.  Votig couldn’t help but think it was going to be a bizarre graveyard.

Shortly thereafter, Arasen had announced its purpose.  It was for Knowledge Ceremonies.  Tek had been removed from public halls, homes and service offices all over their settlement, and over the last six months, those bizarre ceremonies had been used to fill the vault with that tek; still with full power supplies, still in complete working order, and filled with useful data or control capabilities.  Only three men knew the combination to the vault lock.  Two were in this room right now.  Arasen, of course, was the other one.

Arasen had been clear about his intention.  “It is time we recognized that tek has interrupted our progress along the Path.  Tek has distracted us far too much from our goal.  With its removal, we can properly focus our attention on our way, not on the way created by non-perfect Man.  We will establish ourselves as the perfected model of simplicity.

“Years ago we left a sick world and came to a new one were we could dedicate ourselves to The Path of Perfection.  Since then, we have learned much about The Path.  In this next stage of perfection, we will streamline our lives.  Doing so requires us to strip away our past.  We will go forward without the help of anything that resembles our old selves, our old lives, or the course that has prevented humanity from understanding the message contained in The Path.”

Of course, what Arasen had proposed was nonsense.  Votig knew it.  Cax and Follit knew it, too.  It was bad enough that Arasen had sent their ships on a one-way journey into Belat shortly after they were emptied and stripped of any useful parts; and had had the shuttles dismantled shortly thereafter.  But this was going way too far.

The voices in their ranks who rejected the use and need for tek were in the minority, but they had also been followers of the Path of Perfection.  In a way, Votig found it odd that it had taken this long before their minority voices rose to the top.  After all, they had been quite vocal on Eridanus Colony, yet kept quiet about it until recently.  Votig could do nothing but accept these additional tenets of The Path.  He had to quickly adopt them as his own.  To publicly speak against them or reject them would have been suicide.

He had warned others to stay silent about their protests, but some refused to wait it out.  He had planned to speak to Arasen about this monstrous demand to give up that which prevented them from having to work themselves to the bone, but not yet.  There would be a time to do so.  Only after he determined how many others were against the decree.  Nebb surprised himself thinking this would be the outcome of Arasen having no one to curb his will.  Three of his most trusted followers, his most loyal ones – themselves – were plotting against him.  Arasen was faltering.  His powerful magnetic personality was weakening.  He once had strands of compassion, which he doled out intermittently.  Those strands had eroded into neglect or outright cruelty.  Arasen’s self-assurance was transmuting into bad temper.  Rulings no longer contained good reasoning and were becoming increasingly arbitrary.  Perhaps Arasen was becoming insane.  The Knowledge Ceremonies seemed to be a good indication of that.  The first one was awful.  Arasen had spoken as if it were the next step of The Path.  “It’s time to shed our old lives and walk into a new one.  No burdens of the past will haunt us.  None of the encumbrances of our previous lives will interfere with pursuit of The Path.  This is the next step in establishing a new direction, a far more pure way to live.  Tek is poisoning us.”  Arasen had said so, and thus it was true.

Every other week one item of tek had been publicly destroyed.  Another of identical or similar usage went into storage.  The items were small at first, to prove they could get along with out them.  These men, pretending it was for the greater good of the city and the mighty Path Holder civilization they were building, had gone about it with great ceremony.  No one was immune to the edict.  At the current rate, all of their tek would be gone within two years.  The only things that would remain would be the workbots, used for building, maintenance and farming.  Ultimately, the bots would be forcibly retired, too.  Then, only xoss beasts would be used to supplement their own hard labor.

Votig wasn’t told that some of the first tek to go would be from their own homes.  It had immediately become personal.  They were to be the examples of how much more pure a person became following The Path when the past was no longer a burden, a hindrance.  It was Arasen’s new logic, which was unsupportable, but had to be adhered to anyway.  It wasn’t just tek that was removed from use or view or even from the city, though.  The opposition was also being eliminated.

Nebb glanced at the countdown indicator.  Forty-four minutes left before the transfer was complete.

“I can’t do it again.  I can’t banish anyone else.  The Path isn’t real,” Votig said to no one in particular.

Nebb nearly shushed him, but realized no one else could hear.  Heresy only applied if Arasen or his true minions heard.  They were no longer Path Holders.  Nebb was absolutely sure he wasn’t.  He knew every word Arasen Vatch had ever uttered about The Eye, The Path, The Burden, Man’s Folly.  Everything.  But the ultimate goal of it all was unattainable.  There was no path for him to walk.  There was no reason to wait for bodily death to go to The Eye to receive redemption.  But for what?  He had asked himself that question enough times to know that the answer smacked of artifice.  The answer was irrelevant to his own life.  If anything, the only redemption he needed was to carry out their plan and turn the tables on Arasen.

Nebb looked at the tiny bright white light that lit up the small room.  He was sure it was only a matter of time before electricity would be outlawed.  Once that happened, nothing would be the same.  The city would no longer be sustainable.  He would not let that happen.  He would not!  He glanced over at the transfer window on the vidpad’s display again.  The data simply wouldn’t transfer fast enough.

*

Votig was concerned that in the last two weeks they had only been able to meet three more times to transfer data into his vidpad.  Each time they gathered, a brief discussion ensued about those who were grumbling.  It was becoming impossible to contain.  Arasen demanded Votig release names of those who grumbled the loudest.  The witch hunt would happen far sooner than Votig expected.  Votig had been putting off telling Arasen anything definitive.  Nonetheless, he and Arasen would be meeting early tomorrow morning to step up the tempo of the Knowledge Ceremonies as punishment for unnecessary complaining.  Punishment for complaining?  Votig wondered how he would stay sane.  This was not what The Path was about.  It was supposed to be about obtaining the ultimate secret of perfection and putting it into effect.  The Path allowed one to become a perfected being.  A perfected being had the reward of arriving at The Eye after physical death, the temporary resting place every perfected being went to before they transitioned to their next destination, a higher dimension of light, harmony and bliss.  Arasen had revealed it.  Votig had been following it for years because of an emptiness he felt in his life.  However, this was entirely different from what Arasen had originally taught.

Tonight, Votig had plans entirely unrelated to what he was supposed to do tomorrow.  He pulled the leather bag off the peg next to the front door and pulled the strap over his shoulder.  At that moment, he heard a deep rumble.  It sounded like it was coming from somewhere behind him.  The rumble quickly enveloped the house.  It was nothing like the rumbling they had felt on and off throughout the years.  The city was susceptible to quakes, but they only made a little noise and an occasional rattle.  Sometimes they felt as if someone were merely pounding on the side of the house or perhaps jumping up and down on the roof for a few seconds.  Not this one.  A second later the rumble was followed by a lurch, which caused plates stacked on the counter in the kitchen nook to fall off.  All of them broke after hitting the floor, making an awful clatter.  Two of the tiny lights pinned to one of the walls fell and made evil-looking shadows as they fell to the floor behind the couch in the den. Votig held onto a pillar as the rumbling got louder.  The lurching grew worse.  It was nearly impossible to stay upright, but he had to get outside.  He heard screams.  Something collapsed next door in a great roar.  Was it the roof?  This was not good.  Not now!  Not when he was mere minutes away from gathering with the others.

Votig dropped to his knees.  The front doorway was swaying eerily, impossibly.  If the ground didn’t stop moving the pillar he was just clinging to would fall and his roof would come down, too.  He quickly crawled to the front door and managed to pull it open.  His shoulder hit the doorframe as he passed through it.  He ignored the pain.  At least nothing had fallen on top of him.  Outside, it was twilight.  Nearby, flames licked the sky.  Most likely, someone’s stove had spilled its dinner fire.

Votig could only hope his wife and daughter were safe.  He had deliberately sent them to Merga’s home at the edge of the settlement.  That way they would be nowhere nearby when he and the rest of the men carried out their plan.  They were not to be implicated in case the men were caught.

Haulbots had already staged several wagons.  They were covered near the cistern.  More were supposed to be brought tonight.  Once enough were staged, the men would open the underground vault and start transferring tek out of it.  Arasen wouldn’t know it had happened.  He was occupied right now.  Votig had seen to that.  That was only step one of the plan.

The lurching underfoot seemed like it had gone on for a very long time, yet it had only been thirty seconds, if that.  But the damage had been done.  Everywhere he looked, flames lit the dusk.  His plan had become irrelevant in less than a minute.  Hopefully, in the morning no one would wonder why all those wagons were sitting idle by the cistern.  It wouldn’t take much to figure out what they might be for.

Votig raced down the central avenue.  It was illuminated with random flames.  Most of the normally lit areas of the city were dark though.  Follit, Nebb and Cax were supposed to be at the next intersection in a few minutes.  It was entirely possible they were nearby.  He scanned the gathering dark.  There!  Follit was running toward him.

“Are you okay?” Follit asked upon reaching him.  Sweat made his face shine in the dim light.  There was a dark stain on his right sleeve.

Votig nodded vigorously as he observed Follit’s sleeve.  “Are you?”

Follit briefly held his arm up.  “I stopped to pull Teg out onto the street.  He was bleeding.  It was just a scratch.”

“This is awful, Follit.  This isn’t just going to foil our chances.  It’s going to make Arasen impossible to deal with.”  He said that close to Follit’s ear.  Despite the chaos that seemed to be growing worse with each passing second, he couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud in the open, not even now.

Up ahead, Votig saw the up and down motion of a flashlight beam headed toward them at breakneck speed.  He stared out at the gloom, watching flames lick the sky, wondering how much water was in the cisterns and whether there would be enough to pump across the city and put the fires out.  He hoped the  buried pipes hadn’t cracked.  The figure behind the light aimed it at them as he slowed down.  Sure of his target, he resumed.

“Votig!  Follit!” the two men heard.

A breathless Nebb halted several steps in front of the men.  He stopped and momentarily leaned forward with his palms on his thighs.  Before he could properly catch his breath, he began.  “Arasen’s been killed.  A wall fell on him.  I was standing right next to him, just about ready to come here, when the quake started.  I fell away from the wall.  He clung to it.  It came right down on him.  The bricks crushed him.  Do you hear me?  He’s dead!”

“Who else knows this?” Follit asked.

“I’m the only one who saw it happen,” Nebb told him.  “I ran here to let you know.”

Votig’s response was immediate.  “My wife and daughter!”  Without another word, he took off.  He picked his way across rubble and around people who were already gathering in knots, shouting orders, aiming hoses, and using haulbots to move wreckage.  One by one, lights were being trained everywhere.  As Votig ran through the streets, he was heartened to see that the fires were only scattered here and there.  Most had been put out already.  It just looked awful from where he had been.

Nebb wasn’t prepared for Votig to just run off like that.  He gathered his wits and ran after him with Follit in tow.

The collapse of homes and other buildings seemed to be entirely random, Votig observed.  It could have been much worse, he realized.  The quake could have lasted far longer.  He was vaguely aware that aftershocks would be a problem.  Where had he heard such a thing?  He wasn’t sure whether he imagined it or not, but if it were true, there would be more destruction awaiting them.  That didn’t matter right now.  He had his family to find.

Merga’s home was around the corner, but it was a corner he couldn’t get past.  There was too much rubble in the street.  There were fewer lights in this section of the settlement.  It was nearly impossible to see now that dusk was gathering more tightly.  The irony!  The sky held two suns.  The day was so long.  But the quake had to happen now.

The entire stretch of street was dark and silent.  Nearly every home was clad with un-reinforced masonry.  Somewhere nearby he heard the distinct sound of bricks falling at random.  One here.  A stack there. Votig stopped and turned around.  Again.  Listening.

Nebb and Follit finally caught up with him.  He stopped as he caught his breath.  “Why are you here?” Nebb asked him.

“I sent Carin and Jaci to Merga’s home.”

The men went past the intersection.  There was the tree they had planted long ago.  It was bent, twisted.  This was the right place despite the disarray that told him it couldn’t be.  The entire house had collapsed.  Nothing but timbers and piles of bricks remained.  Votig sank to his knees and held his head in his hands.  Nebb went forward as much as he dared in the dim light.  Not a sound came from the rubble.  No calls for help.  No crying.

Votig was devastated.  This was his punishment for secretly working against Arasen.  The two people he loved most had died within a minute of Ithos vomiting up the ground.

How had he been so duped for so long by that man?  It seemed so simple before.  Follow the man who was sure of himself, who promised to transform the void he felt inside into something… else.  Follow the man who knew precisely how to find perfection, a perfection of self that had always eluded him.  But it turned out that Arasen had only empty rhetoric.  Now he didn’t even have his life.  Votig should have felt joy and relief knowing that, but it was impossible.  Ithos had randomly taken its victims.

More rumbling shook the ground.  Most everyone was out in the open now, so it wasn’t nearly as terrifying.

Someone behind them called out.  “Votig!”

It was Cax.  Follit whirled around and called back.  “Over here!”

“People are gathering,” Cax told them.  “The ones we expected.  Where’s your family, Votig?  We have to leave!”

Votig’s tears were obvious, even in the dim lighting.

“Where they in there?” Cax asked breathlessly, the hurt already in his voice.

Votig could only nod through his tears.

“We’ll help you.  Maybe we can...”  But he knew there was no way they could possibly pull the rubble away and find anyone alive.  The city simply wasn’t designed to withstand a quake.  Proof was all around them.

“Go to them,” Votig told Cax.  “Don’t let them stop loading up.”

“Me?” Cax said, alarmed.  “They expect you to be there.”

Votig wasn’t listening.  He went forward and stopped where a brick lay at his feet.  He knelt down next to it.  Broken timbers and other assorted materials in front of him shifted and settled anew.  A plume of dust covered the men.  Votig quickly rose to his feet.  The four men coughed in great spasms, turned away from the wreckage, holding their shirts over their faces, waiting for the dust to settle.  This time Votig refused to turn around again and even attempt to pull the wreckage off his family.  It was getting darker by the minute.

“Jaci, Carin!” Cax yelled after realizing that Votig wasn’t even calling for his wife and daughter.  Nebb and Follit called out, too.  Nothing – not a whine, not a whimper – only Votig’s soft cries.  Cax and Nebb tried to move some of the timbers, threw a few bricks aside, then stopped.  It was far too dark now to properly mount a rescue.  They would need help from others, lots of others, but they knew no rescue would be forthcoming.  There would be nothing other than the recovery of dead bodies.

At least they’re buried, Cax thought.  At least they’re not out in the open, dead, where everyone, including Votig, could see them.  Thankful for that small consolation, he took Votig, wrapped his arm around the man, and pulled him away from the collapsed home.

It had happened so fast.  Everything Votig loved was gone.  This city, his home, his family, all of it was now gone.  There was nothing left to do but to proceed with their plan.  Nonetheless, Votig wasn’t sure he would endure the pain.

Votig had nearly shaken in terror when he was told by Nebb a week ago that those who were with them, ready to make a break with Arasen, wanted him to be their leader.  He was no leader.  He had been duped just like everyone else.  He had merely seen through his own fog.  The fog he himself had generated about how important it was to be ‘perfect’.  He, Cax and the others had only just started their clandestine tally of those who were fed up with Arasen.  If only he had renounced his beliefs far earlier.

But there was no time for self-flagellation, feeling guilty about the past, savoring his conversion to the reality of who Arasen really was, or even weeping over his dead wife and daughter.

Cax pulled Votig along to the awaiting caravan.  The aftershocks seemed to have spurred everyone into a chaotic free-for-all. Votig didn’t anticipate anger to be unleashed so quickly or furiously, or that pandemonium would erupt, but the match had been lit.  The quake was merely a catalyst.  This is not what Votig wanted.  He wanted order.  He had a plan.  This is what Arasen has wrought everywhere he’s been, Votig thought.  On Eridanus.  On Ithos.  Even after he’s dead.  The man had been a menace at every stage of his life and beyond.  Votig found his own life suddenly distilled down to this moment.  His epiphany had come.  He had consciously allowed someone else to dominate his life.  He had followed instead of led.  He had allowed belief to guide him instead of reason.  He had subjugated himself, allowing a yoke of religious nonsense to determine his daily life, his future life.

But no more.

This was his call to action.  This was his moment to reverse everything.  This time.  This place.  Now.

As if an ecosystem were self-organizing, two factions separated.  Those who collected with their group were known or suspected of having denounced The Path already.  Migrating together with wagons, on xossback, with carts, moving across streets, between buildings, they quickly separated themselves from the true believers without them even knowing it.  The sliver of civilization that everyone had been clinging to for the last four years melted like an ice cube under the fierce rays of their twin suns, gave way as an earthen dam would burst, and revealed the raw unsettled terror Arasen had maintained with irrational behavior, unpredictable edicts and stony silence.

After they left the city, the remaining Path Holders would probably not even realize it had happened until they were far away from this disaster.  Votig’s friends and colleagues who were still Path Holders were naive in so many ways: he knew them only too well.  They were concrete thinkers, fearful of things known and terrified of things unknown, and in desperate need of being dominated and controlled.  Terrified of shadows that seemed to lurk in their very souls.  Not him.  Not anymore.  A call to action was resounding mightily inside Votig Brem, ex-elder.

Votig ran back to his home and hesitated at his open door, afraid that if he stepped inside the roof would come down around him.  Adrenaline pushed him though, as he made his way in and found the light stick hanging from the peg on the wall.  Quickly switching it on, he made his way to the back room, pushed aside belongings that had fallen across the closet door and pulled it open.  There, still below the basket, was the covered vidpad.  He snatched it up and pushed it into his bag.  He gingerly picked his way across the room and collected clothing and personal effects he knew he’d need for what was next.

Being careful, he exited his home, knowing this would be the last time he would ever see it.  He made his way back toward the cistern, without his wife or his young daughter.  By himself, to start anew.  Everything would be different.  He would be at the helm.  He would steer.  He would lead their flight away from this fiasco of colossal proportions.

Breathing in huge gulps of air, trying his best to calm himself, he had to stop.  The blood running in his veins wasn’t just from exertion.  Flight and fight were warring inside him, quickening his pulse in conflicting ways.  Yet, everything his life had been about before the quake was giving way to a resolve he’d never experienced before.

What was that noise?  Crying!  It sounded like a child.  Looking around, Votig zeroed in on the sound.  It was trapped underneath something.  Whose child was it this time?  Votig was of two minds.  Help the child or keep going.  But if a child lay underneath rubble, if it were possible to save it from calamity, a disaster that was still not finished undoing everything, he would do it.  He aimed the lightstick.  Several broken planks from the collapsed building settled noisily as he came toward it.  He saw an adult’s hand sticking out from under a long wooden beam.  He was sure it looked female.  Yes, it was.  That bracelet was proof.  He was sure he’d seen that bracelet before but couldn’t place it in context just now.  Votig felt sure the next ground movement would bring this entire pixie stick framework he was standing in down on his head and kill him on the spot.  He heard the cry again, still weak, but distinct.  Two men, shouting, ran along the street behind him.  He thought to ask for their help, but they were gone before he could act.  He turned his attention back to the feeble cries.

There!  An infant wearing only a soot-covered shirt revealed it was a boy. He was in a tiny opening in a jumble of debris.  His left hand was under a plank, preventing him from moving.  Gray dust very nearly covered the child.  If Votig didn’t pick up the boy right now he might not have a second chance to do so.  He carefully pulled up the timber that pinned the boy’s hand, scooped him up and fled.  He raced to the wagon, holding the crying baby close to his chest, as the belongings in the bag across his back bounced, while he attempted to still his own fright.  It didn’t matter whose child it was.  Perhaps it was the woman’s who had been crushed. Once he was with the others, he’d find someone to take care of him.

The tower that held the cistern still stood high and, amazingly, hadn’t fallen during the quake.  Votig was quite unprepared to see so many people.  As he got closer, he recognized dozens of them now.  It was obvious the division in Arasen’s flock was far broader than he had suspected.  There were hundreds now gathered.  Hundreds!

More than two dozen xoss beasts were with the throng.  They were connected to wagons and carts being loaded up, oblivious to the nightmare, ready to pull them from the city, away from the devastation, away from the destruction.

“Whose baby is that?” Cax cried out upon seeing Votig.

“I don’t know.  Its mother is dead.”  He quickly relayed what he had done and that he needed someone to take him.

Cax thought for a second.  “Ellu.  She and Ayvik just got into the fourth wagon.”

Votig nodded vigorously.  He knew them well.  Ayvik had been a confidante for months.  He and Ellu were married only last month.

“I’ll find them,” Votig said.  Breathlessly, he made his way through the men, women and children who were piling their belongings on carts, covering them, securing them with ropes.  As he approached the fourth wagon, he saw that the underground storage vault had been opened.  A line of men and women were passing things to the surface, piling the sequestered tek into the tall covered wagons.

Votig called out Ellu’s name.  He quickly told her how he had found the boy.  “Please, you have to take care of him,” he implored.

“Who’s is it?”

“I don’t know.”

Ellu plucked the baby from his arms.  Ayvik very nearly shoved Votig back to the lead wagon.  “Go.  Don’t worry.  We’ll take care of him.”

Hands reached for the baby.  Already the infant was being taken care of, swallowed into the back of the wagon.  Water was poured onto a cloth to wipe him clean.  Two other women were offering something to cover him.  Later, a young woman offered to suckle him.  Ellu changed his makeshift diaper twice.  The men and women in the wagon kept him safe, offering themselves unconditionally as they escaped the maelstrom.

*

The heretics stopped for only a few brief hours the next morning, well after the suns rose.  An impromptu assessment of their numbers and stores was taken.  Food was passed around.  Several men went hunting.  Others filled water containers.  There were scattered protests about continuing on but the majority of them wanted to get as far away from Arasen City as possible.

The new heretics stopped again early in the evening that day, satisfied now that they had traveled more than a dozen kilometers away.  Someone fearing fanto bats demanded an all-night vigil.  Votig quickly put an end to that.  It was just their bad luck to have arrived on Ithos at the same time the large carnivorous flying creatures had been in the forest near the city.  A bat had killed one of the city dwellers, a fifty-kilo man.  The flock left shortly afterward, returning the next year about the same time.  They were never seen again after that.  Perhaps something had prevented the creatures from migrating back near the city.  Perhaps it had been a fluke both times.  Arasen said they would return.  Regardless, they had never been seen again.  Arasen was supposed to be infallible.  That’s when Votig started to doubt.  Votig could have kicked himself when he first realized it.  Fanto.  Phantom.  It seemed the entire last decade of his life had been about chasing a phantom.

On the second night, two people who were already ill, died.  They were buried dozens of meters off the trail behind a pile of boulders.  The rocks covering their shallow grave were scattered about to make them look like naturally occurring heaps, just in case anyone from the city ventured this way later on.

On the fourth night, Bavit died.  He was the oldest member of their group.  They barely had time to bury him when Asthera had her baby.  Votig left everyone that night and went into the dark for a good half hour so he could mourn the loss of his wife and daughter.  He wasn’t the only one mourning the loss of loved ones, and he knew there would be many more nights like this.

On the sixth day, they stopped at the mouth of the wide canyon where a swiftly running stream ran.  No one would go any further.  Two hundred sixty-eight people had made it.  They needed to stop and find a place to settle down.  They certainly couldn’t keep going forever, with food running low and people grumbling ever more each day.  Votig called an end to their flight.  They had gone far enough.  They would remain here.  It was agreed that none of Arasen’s true believers could possibly find them now.

Twenty-eight men and women stood in a tight cluster, facing the canyon.  It was long and narrow with steep sides.  The rest waited at the mouth for the group to return and report their decision.  The men and women hiked up nearly a kilometer before returning.  Someone turn over a few rocks in the chilly water, revealing mosset worms.  Fat and delicious, half a dozen of them were plucked out and eaten raw.  Mosset worms were well-known to only live in permanent waterways.

On both sides of the creek, wide dry areas appeared to not have been recently flooded.  The walls of the canyon were made of ancient volcanic tuff.  Two men used a pick, widening a nearly circular hole that had long ago eroded from the face of the west wall.  It seemed easy enough to do.  Homes could be dug into their faces.  The walls were high enough to make several levels of them, if need be.  Already Votig envisioned walkways and sidewalks on the flat banks.  The nearby forest could yield wood to build roofs, stairs, shore up rooms, and make doors.  There would be lots of hard work in the near future.  Luckily, they had had the foresight to take plenty of bots and xoss beasts with them.

“This is long term,” Votig told everyone when his party returned to the rest of the group.  “This is where we’ll settle.”

Impromptu meetings took place.  With Votig in the lead, he asked Cax and Nebb to assist him in delegating responsibility, handling disputes, and to be present at all costs.  He urged them to not lose their cool.  Votig knew he couldn’t do this alone.

They needed to decide on areas to be used for storage, food preparation, work spaces and everything else a village would require.  It took a week to divide up areas to be used for permanent living spaces.

“We’re going to have to name things,” Norrid called out from the crowd of eighteen men and women standing with the three men during one of their meetings.

“Like what?” Votig asked.

“This canyon, for starters.  We haven’t named it yet.”

“Lancel,” Jalac said.  “Lancel Canyon.”

Votig shrugged his shoulders.  “All in favor?”

Nods all around.  No one seemed to object.

“Lancel Canyon, it is,” Votig said.

“What about our city?” Ressit asked.

“No, Ressit.  This is a village,” Cax told him.

“Hiera,” someone shouted.

“Who said that?” Nebb asked.

“I did.”  Bosh Setes stepped forward.  He had the most medical knowledge amongst them.  He had helped delivered Asthera’s baby.  Although not a doctor, he nonetheless had worked as a medical diagnostician and technician for years before following Arasen’s call to renounce Eridanus Colony and its culture.  When Votig discovered that Bosh was with them the second day, he was extremely relieved.  The first day Votig had thought they only had a single medical hand scanner.  Bosh had told him that he had personally made sure some of the tek they had gathered had been medical equipment.

A few other names for the village were tossed around but no one could agree on them.  Bosh’s idea quickly gained traction and a raised-hand vote was taken.

“It’s agreed.  Our village is called Hiera,” Votig told them.

*

Several lightsticks illuminated the interior of a tent that had been hastily erected four weeks ago.  The tent had served as Votig’s makeshift administrative office since the first week after arriving in Lancel Canyon.  By default, he was officially their leader.  Votig acknowledged that role as if accepting a guilty sentence.  He decided that hard work and difficult decisions would be the badge of shame he would wear for the rest of his life for following Arasen Vatch.  Maybe, just maybe, he could atone himself.

The others in the tent with him were Ayvik and Ellu, the baby and Bosh.  Votig’s officially appointed administrators, Cax Geven, Nebb Litu, and now Follit Golona, were with them as well.

“No one claims the child,” Ellu told them.  “I’ve been to everyone.”

“How is that possible?  No one recognizes him?” Votig asked.  “There couldn’t have been that many people who had children that age.”

Ellu shook her head.  “No one knows.”

“What about birthmarks?  Anything to identify him,” Follit asked.

Ellu shook her head again.

“Then how will we determine who he belonged to?” Votig asked.

“The DNA scanner,” Bosh told him.  “A database of the entire population is on file.  It should take a few minutes to find out.”

“A few minutes?  You all came to me about this?  Why wasn’t it done already!” Votig demanded.

“No one asked,” Bosh returned, taken aback at Votig’s tone.

“Of course,” Votig responded.  “I-I’m sorry.  I shouldn’t have sniped at you.”

Bosh nodded his head and let out a sigh.  Everyone was exhausted.  No one had gotten much sleep in the last month.  Everyone who could stand had been given a task to do from dawn to dusk, making shelters, digging holes into the sides of the canyon for homes, having the haulbots take the overburden far away, looking for game and other edible food, deciding where crops would be planted, setting up sanitation centers, kitchens, meal areas, and scouting the surrounding area for dangers.  There were myriad extremely important tasks that still hadn’t even been started.  Running a DNA scan on a baby that seemed perfectly happy being in the care of the young Idero couple hadn’t been a priority.

“I’ll get the scanner,” Bosh told them.

*

It took all of three minutes for the result to show on the display.  Bosh sucked in a surprised breath as he read it.  This is just lovely, he thought.

“Well?” Ellu asked, ignoring his odd affect.

There was no other way to broach this except to tell them right out.  Bosh lowered his voice.  “It’s Maros.”

“Are you sure?” Votig roared.

Bosh ignored Votig’s horrified reaction.  He merely turned the scanner’s display so the rest of them could see it.

Although her friend Sera had been her wet nurse at first, Bosh had given Ellu an injection several weeks ago that allowed her to lactate despite not having been pregnant.  The baby cooed as he suckled.  Arasen’s second child was at her breast, deriving nourishment from her very body?  “It’s not true,” she told them.

Bosh was firm in his rebuttal.  “It is.”

At that moment, something inside Ellu changed.  It transcended her disgust of Arasen.  It didn’t matter that the baby was Maros.  He was no longer Arasen’s child because the man was dead.  The baby was hers!  The baby was Ayvik’s.  No one could take that away from her or her husband.

“That wasn’t Hyla,” Votig said to no one in particular.

“Hyla Vatch?  What are you talking about?” Bosh asked.

“The woman who was with Maros wasn’t her.  I saw a bracelet.”  He described it.  The ensuing discussion was brief.  They quickly determined the dead woman wasn’t Hyla, but rather was Etury.  She had considered it an honor to be the Vatch’s nanny.  It was entirely possible that Arasen’s wife – Maros’s mother – was still alive.

Pondering that, Ellu’s resolve strengthened.  No Path Holder alive would take this baby from her, including Hyla.  She had kept the infant since Votig first brought it to her.  She had cared for him, given him a name, kissed him, changed his soiled diapers and hugged him when he cried.  She had shed tears for whoever his mother was, sure the woman was sad beyond measure that her baby hadn’t been found.  It sickened her to think there was a possibility that Hyla could claim him.  She vowed to not let that happen.  Not now, after how she’d come to care for the baby, and not after knowing they had literally rescued another victim from Arasen’s control.

“No one should be told.  At least not right away,” Ellu told them sternly.  “This is our baby.  He is not a Path Holder.  No one is born a Path Holder.  None of us are Path Holders anymore.  This baby is Trenekis.  That is the name we gave him.  He is not Maros, and hasn’t been since the day we left the city.”

They were speechless.  No one had ever heard Ellu speak with such conviction before.

Tren’s mouth popped off her nipple.  As if a preternatural intelligence were behind those infant eyes, he scanned the crowd looking down at him.  Trenekis smiled at them; his hands randomly gestured in the air, seemingly waving at them, as if to say, ‘Hi, everyone.  Look.  It’s me!’

At that moment, looking down at that innocent face, Votig too vowed to right another great wrong.

Chapter 10

The wind picked up, rustling seventeen-year-old Efta’s oversized shirt.  He stood, as was his duty this late evening, at the sturdy wooden railing of the platform thirty meters above the heart of Kelesat.  The young simidar was wearing night glasses.  The single thin rectangular lens wrapped completely across both eyes, had an indentation for the bridge of his nose, were tapered to fit over his ears, and wrapped around the back of his head.  The lens turned the night sky orange.  It was one of the few luxuries of old tek that was still allowed because of their defensive use.  Except for stars above him, shining with brilliant pinpoints of light, he could very nearly imagine it was daylight.  Although Efta didn’t relish standing guard, he enjoyed being up here.  After all, the lookout was as close to a tree house as he could get.  Below him, most of the villagers slept.

Surrounded by forest in every direction for several hundred meters, the village hadn’t grown large enough to fell all the trees.  Indeed, edict decreed the village would be kept hidden under the spreading canopy of epog trees at the base of the ancient caldera, named Arasen’s Ring.

Home to three hundred fifty-six other people, Efta has lived in Kelesat his entire life.  The forest kept the village safe from wild beasts roaming the savanna at night.  The rising edge of Arasen’s Ring effectively acted as a barrier to the west from highland creatures.

Keeping watch was part of his duty as a young simidar, the designation for an elder-in-training.  The harder the duty, the more strength one gained.  The more strength one gained, the easier it was to walk the Path of Perfection, the long journey everyone made until he or she reached The Eye after mortal death.  In fact, it was only fifteen minutes before The Eye would rise.  Efta nearly counted the seconds until its red glow crept above the horizon.  He emitted an audible exhalation of delight at seeing his next home.

He went to one knee, balled his fists and placed them against his upper chest.  He looked directly at the star and whispered.  “The Eye has risen and sees me.  The Eye of my desire has found me.  I call upon my being to follow the perfect path toward The Eye.”

Efta’s mouth dropped open.  Just to the left of the star a bright yellow light started at the horizon and flung itself across the sky in a perfectly straight line.  Seeing such a bright steadily glowing light was a complete surprise.  Efta noted how long it took for it to travel from the east horizon all the way to the west.  He was able to do so because of the perfectly unobstructed view he had from his high perch.  It took nearly sixty seconds for it to make the journey.  Efta knew next to nothing about what was supposed to be in the night sky except for the stars he was used to seeing and The Eye.  Yet, he knew this wasn’t normal.

Ninety-two minutes later, the bright light returned.  This time it was nearly five degrees to the south of its original starting point.  Efta noted the time it appeared and how long it took to cross the sky again.  It was his duty to record any unusual activity.  Although it was supposed to have been reserved for movement on the ground or near the treetops, he nonetheless wondered if it would return again in another ninety-two minutes.  He wasn’t disappointed.  His pulse quickened.  A most unusual star seemed to be appearing above the village at regular intervals.  He waited, sleepier than he’d ever been before, for another ninety-two minutes.  Once again, it traced itself across the sky for the third time, much closer to the horizon, before the first sun rose in the early morning.

*

The caracasis nuts Simidar Efta had put in his pocket before his watch, had come in handy now.  He had eaten both of them before he climbed down and reported to Elder Jonen.  Although he hadn’t slept for nearly twenty-four hours he wanted to be wide awake when he brought the unusual news.

“Are you sure?” Elder Jonen asked, sounding quite agitated.  Efta wasn’t sure why but he instantly decided he had done the wrong thing.  Yet he was absolutely sure that telling Elder Jonen about this unusual sighting was something he was supposed to do.

“I swear it, elder.”

“Come with me, simidar.”

They left the office lodge and went swiftly to the Great House next door.  It was much larger and far better lit than his small office space.  Elders Pel and Gabek were talking at the far end near the altar.  Elder Jonen quickly approached them.  Upon seeing him, the two elders gave Jonen the proper salute of respect.  Jonen was only twenty-five years old.  The two young men were his age as well.  Nonetheless, they knew their place.  Jonen had long since assumed the title of Path Elder.

Efta wasn’t sure whether to be frightened by this meeting or not.  Reporting to three elders at one time, and in the Great House no less, usually meant a reprimand or worse was in order.  Yet, he could find nothing he had done wrong.  His intentions the entire evening had been on his prayers and watching for anything unusual.  He had gone down on bended knee three times during the course of the night and had not seen nor heard anything that should be cause for alarm on the ground.  At Jonen’s behest though, he quickly relayed what he saw in as much detail as he could remember.

“Did you see anything else?  Anything unusual, like colored lights?  Anything shining down on the forest or nearby?” Elder Gabek asked.

Simidar Efta furrowed his brow.  Nothing of the sort had happened.  He shook his head.

The huge room was quiet for a moment.

The two elders glanced at each other, then back to Elder Jonen.

“The prophecy,” Elder Pel stated.

Elder Jonen nodded.  “I believe so.  That time may have finally come.  We’ll look at the vid.”  He turned to the heavy wooden table at the end of the room.  Beneath its surface, the locked cabinet held the vidpad.  Jonen tapped in the code on the lock and it popped open.  He opened the cabinet doors and withdrew the Book of the Path, the vidpad that had all of his father’s vids that described The Path in great detail.  It was in perfect condition, unlike virtually any of the scant other items of tek that still remained in the village.  Indeed, it was one of perhaps a dozen items of the old tek still allowed to be used.

“I know the exact passage,” Elder Pel said.  Elder Jonen did as well, of course.

Before energizing the vidpad, Elder Jonen placed two balled fists against his upper chest briefly and spoke the required words.  “We revere your wise words.  We revere your revelation of the Path of Perfection.  May your vid bring us joy knowing you have gone before us.”

“He has gone beyond The Eye.  He has led the way,” the others said in unison.

Jonen pressed a corner of the frame with his thumb and the screen lit up.  The following words appeared briefly on it:  ‘Arasen Vatch: Path Log.’  They quickly disappeared.

Arasen had programmed his sleep chamber to wake him every few years during their long journey across the stars so he could check the ship’s systems and complete a log of the Path of Perfection on this vidpad.  By the time they had arrived on Ithos, he had recorded his ‘revealed’ religion in vast detail.  There were one hundred eighty-nine video and audio passages in the log.  Some of the vids were longer than an hour, though most were less.  All three elders knew nearly every word spoken in them.

Although he barely remembered the man, Jonen knew his father had been far wiser than Jonen could ever hope to be.  His early memories of the man were greatly supplemented by the vids he laid down for posterity.  To be the son of the man who had revealed the most important religion in the history of mankind had oftentimes given him shivers.  His father had the foresight to bring everyone to Ithos long ago to pave a perfect path to The Eye.  His father even knew they would one day be visited and that the visitation would not be a friendly one.  Indeed, Arasen was extremely clear about it.  The visitors’ only intention would be to stop everyone from following The Path and take them far away from The Eye, the portal to their next life.

All of it had been stated long ago, as if Arasen had known the future.

Elder Gabek scrolled through the index until he found the passage, then pressed the play icon.  He scrubbed through the vid until he reached the exact spot he wanted.  Arasen’s strong countenance stared directly at them, ever assuring, and impassioned as always.

“Evil days will be with us when an uninvited starship arrives.  That ship will be easily recognizable as it orbits Ithos.  Be on the lookout.  It will look like a bright star following a straight line from horizon to horizon at night.  There may be more than one though.  Be on the lookout.  If they have sophisticated enough scans, they’ll be able to drop right down on you.  Be wary of that day.  They have no good intentions.  They seek only to destroy what we’ve built.  They have no belief in The Path.  Their sole intention will be to turn you away from it.  They will be perfectly happy to take you as far from The Eye as possible.  Fear that day.  Fear it like you would fear death without knowing The Path.  Listen not to anything they say.  Their sweet sounding words will fill you with doubt.  It is merely their attempt to keep you from knowing the perfect existence that awaits you.  That can not be tolerated.  Straying from The Path will obliterate you from the universe.  Take aim to remove the menace before it begins to rot your soul.  Your task is and always has been to follow The Path, to reach The Eye, after which your new perfected life awaits.  Make sure you do not vanish into nothingness like the rest of mankind is doomed to do.”

Arasen’s face was replaced with a vid of a starship in orbit as viewed from the ground at night.  All three elders watched it as the object sailed silently amongst a background of stars.

“Simidar Efta,” Elder Jonen said.  “Is that what you saw?”

Efta was thankful he was in the presence of the Log File vidpad.  It was a rare moment for him.  He nodded his head.  It was exactly what he saw.

“Tonight we watch,” Jonen told the other two elders.  “We’ll see if a ship orbits our world.  If so, we have to prepare.”  He turned to the teen.  “You’ve done your duty, simidar.  Remember your prayers and get some sleep.”

Efta balled his fists together and thumped them against his chest in a quick motion.  He turned to leave.  He regretted having eaten the caracasis nuts.  They wouldn’t wear off for hours.

*

Darkness couldn’t fall fast enough as far as Elder Jonen was concerned.  He was quite concerned that the prophecy had come true.  If it had, the real test of his leadership would finally be at hand.  They were rewarded an hour after dusk as the men looked skyward.

“There!  That’s not a meteor, elder,” Elder Gabek exclaimed.  They had already seen four of them, which caused their pulses to quicken, but none of them were what they were looking for.  This new one shone steadily and traveled much more slowly, just like in the vid.

The three elders had been flat on their backs on the floor of the platform high above the village, watching different sections of the sky.  Now all of them stood.  Elder Jonen tightly gripped the high lookout perch railing.  It had been a very long time since something so monumental had occurred, something which required them to be so vigilant, something so tuned to one of the many prophesies his father had left them, something that would indeed test his authority.

There were many times over the last several years when Jonen had wished he had more guidance to know what to do with this tremendous responsibility.  He had been burdened with an almost impossible task, that of guiding an entire village along the Path of Perfection.  The Log Book was his only solace in this enormous endeavor.  The many dozens of passages told him how to go about it.  There was tremendous discipline involved.  Hours of meditation were required to find the strength within to shun anything not related to The Path.  The constant watchfulness inside one’s straying mind strained even him, the flesh and blood of the very man who revealed the most perfect path.  To be a Path Holder was the most important task ever held by mere men and women.  There was no way he would let the non-believing sons of far off people stop their chance to reach perfection.

Knowing that somewhere in the vast dark space above them would one day come evil men bent on their destruction had haunted him for years.  There were actually men who wanted nothing more than to turn them away from The Path.  On purpose!  How could anyone even consider such a thing?  To purposefully turn from the Path of Perfection meant soul death.  The putrid remains of a man or woman’s soul would be quickly found out because of the foul stench of their words, actions and disbelief.  It was the disbelief that pained Jonen the most.  Leaving The Path dishonored the unbelievable sacrifice his father had made.  It dishonored the memory of those who came with him and those who continued pursuing The Path even after the city’s destruction twenty years ago.

Fleeting thoughts of the four people he personally had had to banish from the village over the last several years flashed in his mind.  The sacrifice of them for the good of Kelesat had been necessary.  The sacrifice of anyone foolhardy enough to enter their village from above would be for the good of the village as well.

The three elders watched the bright point of light as it continued on toward the east.  Surprised, they saw a second light split off.  It headed in an entirely new direction before slowing down.  At first, Elder Pel thought it might have broken into pieces, but no.  It wasn’t flaring, as would a meteor before it burned out.  They watched as it gracefully descended then disappeared in the direction of the abandoned city.  Jonen nodded to himself.  Men from the sky had indeed come looking for them.

Chapter 11

Commander Hittan took his place in the pilot’s seat of their shuttle to the surface, named Cloud Hopper.  Shipmaster Arita climbed in next to him and strapped into the co-pilot’s chair.  Both briefly pressed an index finger against the logon sensor on the broad control panel in front of them.  Instantly, readouts lit up on the previously black surface, as well as on panels above them and to their sides.  They started their prep of the ship’s systems while the shuttle crew secured the launch bay.

Behind them were Niko and his superior Dr. Kem.  Behind them in the next row was Second Guard Ezic, who had only now finished making sure his biological sample containers were stowed correctly in back, along with his superior Dr. Sepp.

After the survey crew snapped their seatbelts together, they activated their displays.  With the earpiece applied to the skin at their mastoid bone and the tiny high definition display projecting directing onto their retina, everyone would have a clear view of their exit from the launch bay, their descent through the atmosphere, and their landing, along with being able to listen to all communication between the commander and the ship.

“Ready for transit to first target,” Commander Hittan said.  He pointed to Arita, who touched a series of icons on the console.  Coordination with the launch bay crew was next as the space doors opened.  A few moments later, they cleared the ship.

Their descent into the atmosphere still thrilled Niko like almost nothing else.  He closed his left eye, allowing the view to take up his entire visual field, still lamenting that the displays didn’t offer a stereoscopic view like the retinal visor he had back in his cabin.  He wasn’t next to one of the small view ports and the front viewscreen was useless from his position after they leveled off, so he was stuck with what he had.  Once they descended from orbit, it was if he was floating in space and only very slowly falling toward the surface.  All the while, he took in the rich colors of the landscape, the huge billows of clouds, and the vast darkness of space that was already turning from black to dark blue.

“Z plus twenty-three kilometers,” Commander Hittan told them.  Everyone’s adrenaline was surging.  Landing on a new planet wasn’t an everyday experience, nor was it to be taken lightly.  “Target in twelve minutes,” he added.  That was as much for his passengers as for the crew in orbit who would be monitoring the telemetry of Cloud Hopper as long as they were within range.

Already Niko’s display showed the contrasting colors of the rock formations below that would yield valuable data about the history of the planet.  He started discerning sedimentary bands in canyons and what looked like a long dark horizontal sill off to his right.  The flora came into view as well.  The entire region for hundreds of kilometers was scrubland, broken by ravines, plateaus, reddish bluffs, horsts and grabens, and undulating anticlines with their neighboring synclines.  The orbital sensors had already told much more than that.  Rich mineral ores were to be had here.  Surface spectrometry had already indicated that borax and tin ore deposits were nearby.  Commonly used materials, both were highly valued and needed in abundance.  Only by doing on-surface scans would Niko be able to determine their extent, and those were only two such deposits.  Niko could already feel it.  This was going to be a richly rewarding planet.

The commander found a suitable touchdown spot in an open flat area.  Everyone prepared for debarking.  Niko briefly pulled the hand weapon from the holster at his hip and checked the charge indicator.  In the short history of the survey service, no one had used their weapons against anything other than to fend off animals.  Thus, their energy yield was usually set to low.  Regardless, unknown territory required the use of a full-body safe suit.  The ultra lightweight fullerene mesh, embedded with photronic circuitry and thousands of micro-actuators, made the clothing far stronger than steel, yet breathable.  The trousers also served, at least to Niko, to enhance a certain body part on the male members of the survey teams.  He was sure that whoever had designed the suits was gay.  In a way, the uniforms made most anyone look like a superhero.

The commander read off the sensor data.  “Temperature, thirty-four.  Humidity, sixteen percent.  Be careful of overexertion.  As we already determined, the oxygen level is way higher than what we’re used to.”

Eat me, Niko thought.  I plan to hyperventilate!

After final descent, the slight bump told them they had landed.  Everyone un-strapped and stood up.  This was Niko’s first good look out the forward deflection shield instead of through the viewer.  The commander quickly pressed the icon on his screen that unlocked the back hatch.  He went back to manually open the double doors.  Everyone was lined up behind him.  Hittan swung the doors open and the artificially illuminated room-temperature environment transformed to bright light and warmth.  The men poured out, sensors and weapons drawn, as was protocol.

They had landed at the edge of a long ridge of broken weathered granite.  Niko instantly recognized the feature as a laccolith.  Being an igneous intrusion, it had long ago invaded the sedimentary layering he already planned to analyze.  For now, their task was to secure the area.

Everyone switched on their cameras.  Fitted into their helmets, they provided real time recordings of their surroundings.  Ezic spoke first.  “Energy readings are null, three-sixty,” he stated for the record.

The commander stayed at the back of the shuttle at the bottom of the steps while the others spread out at pre-determined points.  Arita stayed put inside and pored over the landing logs.  Once the team had fanned out, they started their scans.  Despite the fact that they were in a relatively open area, they weren’t to take any chances.  Visual inspections and standard electromagnetic readings were analyzed for anything anomalous.  Woven into their uniforms were nano-sniffers, networked to their handheld scanners.  The sniffers were tuned to detect compounds such as sulfur dioxide, methane, and other toxic gases.  There had been a report of a survey team walking into a low spot filled with dangerous levels of carbon dioxide.  The sniffers had saved their lives.

“Sniffers read normal,” Niko said into his comm.  He spoke aloud only for the official record, too.

Twenty minutes later, with all the preliminary scans done, everyone’s guard was lowered quite considerably.  They removed their helmets.  It was safe here.  There was plenty of plant life nearby, but not even a mouse-sized creature had been seen so far.

It was time to retrieve their sampling equipment.  After everyone returned to the shuttle, Arita grabbed a canteen and stood at the foot of the ramp while the survey team gathered their gear.  Dr. Sepp and Second Guard Ezic extracted long transparent tubes from the storage lockers, filled with empty sample containers, and fastened with a strap to each end.  Both placed the straps over their heads and adjusted the tubes across their backs, then headed toward the nearby hilltop.

Niko pulled out one of the tubes as well.  He withdrew a rock hammer, a terahertz sensor and a laser cutter.  He would do the labor.  Dr. Kem’s job was to determine the best areas to take the samples from.  Niko placed the hammer into the holder on his belt, the cutter into his backpack, then slung the tube over his shoulder.

Niko and Dr. Kem headed toward the exposed dike where the sedimentary layering was most prominent above and below it.  Soon enough they came up to the rock face.  Niko unloaded his equipment.  He lifted his helmet just enough to wipe his forehead.  This area seemed familiar.  In fact, if he wasn’t sure he was nearly fifty light years from Earth he could swear he was standing in North America’s Sonoran Desert.  The resemblance ended there.  All around them were fire red and purple plants growing in cracks, thick succulents that looked nothing like what he’d seen before on three planets or the holos of Earth’s deserts, and tall, thin stalky growths that looked like clumps of grasses but were obviously not.  That was the most amazing thing about being on all these different planets, he mused.  The biological diversity was always entirely different, while the minerals, although in a different mix everywhere, were always identifiable.  Iron oxides stained rocks reddish.  Powdery and lithified carbonates were always easy to identify with simple acids from his kit.  Every terrestrial planet had a crust made of a handful of silicates.  Indeed, on a Class A planet, sand was always derived from decomposed granite, mostly quartz.  Niko figured the geology part of the survey was far easier than what the biology team had to do.  He merely had to identify standard ore masses, which brought immediate results.  When an ore mass was found to be viable, the ship’s captain got a bonus.  At least at the end of the day, he would have something to show for what he did and very few mystery compounds that couldn’t be quickly identified.  On the other hand, Ezic and Dr. Sepp had to piece together taxonomies from scratch, or at the least, attempt to identify primary clades.  If the planet were viable, teams of biologists would flock here and write up papers on their unique findings, eventually filling out the planet’s unique phylogenetic tree.

With his database initialized, Niko aimed the terahertz sensor over a wide area to get a variety of angles for the radiation counters.  Finally, after shoving the sensor’s long probe into the ground in various places, he had a three dimensional map of the area to just over a kilometer deep.   Hello… what are you, he wondered as he looked at the display.  Niko quickly identified it then licked two fingers and dragged them downward in the air onto an imaginary board.  He gyrated his hips briefly.  “Two points,” he said aloud.  This was good news.  He might have earned his pay for the day already.

Dr. Kem noted how animated Niko had become.  “What’s that all about?”

“He-ma-tite,” Niko said with a flourish.  “Lots of it.”

Dr. Kem grinned.  He was quite aware how valuable such a find was.  “We’ll do additional scans from orbit now that we know it’s there.”

“Okay, tin deposit.  Where are you?” Niko said under his breath.  It took another twenty minutes of probing to find it.  “Another check in the plus column, Dr. Kem,” Niko said through his comm.  He had been out of sight of the man for the last fifteen minutes.

“Where?” Dr. Kem asked.

“Sending coordinates now.”

The entire time they had been listening to the chatter between the exo-biologist and Ezic.  They had been quite animated as well.

Several hours later, everyone returned to the shuttle to deposit their samples and eat a late lunch.  They were quite excited about the finds.  The high oxygen level had made everyone giddy and no one was in the least bit tired.  In addition, the environment was temperate and no large animals had been seen so far.  Already, Dr. Sepp had identified two plants nearly ninety percent biologically available to humans, and Niko had found eight important compounds worthy of exploiting.  The level of excitement was becoming obnoxiously high.

Farwinds came into range again.  “Okay, captain.  We’re done for the day,” the commander called in after they cleaned up from their picnic.

“Coordinating with your orbital computer now,” the captain replied.  The commander and Arita went through their departure checklist.  Minutes later, they lifted off and vectored for rendezvous.  An hour and a half later, they were back on board and unloading their samples.

Chapter 12

Jonen called six other elders to gather with him in the Great House.  It was still early, but this was an emergency meeting, which required swift and deliberate action.

“Simidar Efta was the first to see the ship,” Elder Jonen said after he explained what he and elders Pel and Gabek had seen.  Next, he took out the Log Book and played the vid for them.  “It descended in the direction of the old city.  Since they have an entire planet to land on, and yet they went that way, we can assume they’re investigating it.  We have no choice but to investigate too and make sure they don’t discover our village.”

Elder Bahki responded first.  “My field won’t tend itself,” he said, speaking for Elder Kamay and Wesha.

“Simidars are ready to do the work,” Jonen told him.  “They understand sacrifice and hard work.  We sacrifice.  They sacrifice.”

“I surrender myself to the Path.  I prepare my way to The Eye,” each of them said in unison after Jonen said that.  The chant was quick and perfunctory, but resounded in the large room.

They had all been simidars before they reached Eldership, when every twenty-year-old was automatically pronounced an elder.  Being a simidar was difficult.  At age thirteen boys and girls began a long journey.  Gone were children’s games and play.  Anyone who didn’t fulfill their duties, which meant nearly anything that was demanded of them, was ceremonially banished.

Jonen continued.  “The old city is three days distant.  We’ll go there despite the ban, attempt to find the strangers and, if we do, make sure they don’t report back to whoever their masters are.”

“Elder Desin, you and Elder Sab assist Elders Urey, Bahki and Kamay.  Gather the fastest xoss beasts in the village.  The corral master has plenty of saddles.  Myself, Elder Pel, Gabek, and Wesha will let the village know what we’re doing.  With everyone working together, they can make sure our presence from the air is as inconspicuous as possible.”  Jonen had no idea how it would be possible to hide the crop terraces.  Perhaps they would blend into the side of Arasen’s Ring well enough to not be noticeable.  As far as he was concerned, they were safe for now.  “We’ll gather supplies afterward, then head east.”  Elder Jonen hesitated for a moment as he looked at each of them.

“As we know, no one has been allowed in the city since shortly after Kelesat was settled.  That restriction is there for a good reason, but this is an exception.  People bent on our destruction, foretold long ago, have come.  There is no restriction important enough to prevent us from stopping them, and we will do it before they do the damage they intend to bring us.”

There were approving sounds all around before everyone left the Great House and started on their appointed tasks.  Hours later, everyone was back with xoss beasts saddled up and plenty of supplies to sustain them for their endeavor.  Once back inside the Great House, Elder Jonen went to the storage room behind the altar.  The door was securely locked.  Jonen pressed his thumb against the oval sensor, which made the lock pop open.  Elder Pel opened the door, reached in, switched on a lightstick and hung it from an overhead hook.

Although simple bows and arrows, along with stone-tipped spears, had long been the staple weaponry of the villagers, this room held a much different set of weapons.  Five hand pistols lay in a sealed pendonite container.  They had belonged to Arasen.  Only two power packs worked the last time Jonen checked, months ago.  Jonen withdrew one of the pistols, examined it, then attached one of the power packs.  He pressed the circle on its side.  A tiny green indicator light lit up, flickered briefly to yellow, then turned red.  Jonen shook his head and ejected the power pack.  He picked up the next one and snapped it in place.  The indicator light alternated between yellow and green briefly before stabilizing at green.  He pressed his thumb against the sensor adjusted the power setting to kill, then activated the safety.  The pistols had been used offensively in the dense forest to sweep it clean of long-fanged argas the year they settled here.  Its purpose now would be similar, but preemptive this time.

Thirty minutes later, the nine men left the village.  Today they would ride until the last light of Enyi and Belat left the sky.

*

The evening’s analysis of the materials the survey team had gathered went on until quite late.  It had long since been recognized that microbes that never had human hosts couldn’t infect humans.  Regardless, isolation protocol still affected the biological samples, just in case.

Dr. Kem and Niko cut thin sections of a few of the rock samples and placed them in the analyzer.  A few minutes later high resolution photomicrographs were available, along with chemical analysis results.  Next, was the data gathered by the terahertz analyzer.  The ore yields looked to be well above their target percentage.  After all, this was an untouched planet.  There was no doubt other high grade ores would be discovered on their next trips to the surface.

Later, over an extremely late dinner, Dr. Beld relayed the results of some of the scans he and Unell had gathered from orbit.  “The planet’s atmosphere is stable.  Background radiation shows normal.  It’s a particularly arid planet though.  The system’s Oort cloud has a huge gap in it because of the red dwarf’s orbit.  It’s long since cleared out ice-baring comets.  We hope there’s plenty of sub-surface water if we’re going to make a long-term go here.  If we find the right biological and geological data, I can supplement current observations of the dwarf with them.  Records of solar instabilities run up and down historic columns on all life-zone terrestrial planets.  This one shouldn’t be any different.”

“You’ll all have plenty of time to get more data,” the captain told him.  “Gentlemen,” he said as he turned his attention to the rest of the men.  “we’re not going down tomorrow, as already discussed.  Since we have all day to do the rest of the analyses of the samples gathered today, as well as pore over the data, we have no need to stay up all night.  I’m turning in.”

*

Darkness had very nearly fallen when Jonen and his men encountered a cluster of telipka trees.  Since they only grew at an open water source, the men knew they could stop here for the night.  After they pitched their tents, Elders Sab and Urey pulled a jumble of rocks apart, searching for the source of the spring.  Once they found it and the pool cleared, they filled their water containers.  The xoss beasts were led downstream to drink their fill.  Meals were dried and spiced tala cakes and strips of jerked venet meat.  Elder Kamay took first watch.  Although they didn’t expect to be disturbed, it had been not only tradition but law that at least one person would stay up on watch.  Fanto bats were said to hunt by infrared in flocks of up to fifteen, and were quiet attackers.  They could easily swoop down on them unaware.  Their ability to see so well in the dark, and the fact that they were insatiable, meant that early warning would allow people to turn on enough lights to scare them away.  That was their weakness.  They were helpless in the daytime and couldn’t recover fast enough if blinded at night before they could be clubbed.  In Elder Kamay’s lifetime, he had never seen a fanto bat.  In his estimation, that was a good thing.

Argas, on the other hand, were larger and hunted alone.  They were ferocious and hunted on the ground.  Although their own forest had long since been cleared of them, none of them knew if they hunted nearby.  Elder Kamay wondered if they were far enough away from the animals’ normal feeding grounds.  This was as far as he had ever gone in this direction and had no idea what their range was.  Few villagers had been allowed to stray this far from the village in this direction.  Fewer yet had actually gone all the way to the city.  There could be herds of argas in this region for all he knew.

The murmur of the men praying in pairs or by themselves was all he heard as he stood and pressed his fists to his chest.  I purify myself in the Path..., he began.  The ritual took all of three minutes to complete.  Elder Kamay donned the night glasses.  If any fanto bats flew overhead, he’d see them in a heartbeat.

*

“Second target in ten minutes,” Commander Hittan said after they dropped below fifteen kilometers.  On this descent were Ezic, Niko, Dr. Kem, Torm and Dr. Sepp.

Orbital scans indicated that this area contained far more flora and fauna than the one they had visited day before yesterday.  The next several days would be spent gathering more physical samples and taking close-up vid and stills.

It had taken just over two hours to get to the coordinates.  No one had wanted the shuttle to go too fast since they were taking vids.  They wanted to be low enough to get as much of a view as possible and not miss any features.

They landed near a grove of squat bushes and everyone exited.  After fanning out again and determining if there was any immediate danger, it was apparent right away that they had disturbed plenty of creatures.  After investigating the plants, they found webs spanning branches, nests at the tops of the plants, hillsides filled with burrows and even some insect-like creatures.  Now that the disturbing rush of air that accompanied their landing, along with the visual impact of the shuttle was past, the scattered creatures had not only returned but were making considerable noise.  The team noted that everything mobile, including the creatures that flew, was bilateral and appeared to have six appendages.

They spent the rest of the morning observing, taking vids, and collecting samples.  Dr. Kem found a few outcrops that looked interesting, but none had indicators pointing to possible nearby ore deposits.  He had Niko run underground scans with his terahertz scanner instead.  The temperature was nearly perfect so they had a long lunch in the shade, enjoying the dry warmth.

Dr. Sepp and Ezic were finished gathering plant samples.  Initial scans pointed to excellent bio-availability.  Proof of that would only come after considerable detailed testing.

The call came in while everyone was back in the shuttle cataloging vids shot earlier.  The first sun was just starting to descend to the horizon.

“Commander Hittan,” the captain’s voice came through on everyone’s comm.  The ship was obviously in range somewhere overhead now.

“Sir,” he responded right away.

“Dr. Beld and Unell have found something that, uh, frankly, we’re not sure is real.”

Everyone in the shuttle looked at each other.

“Not real, sir?  What does that mean?”

Dr. Beld’s face showed up in the vid link now.  “Uh, gentlemen, as you know, KAI has been gathering sensor and visual data about surface conditions.  One of the images came back with something that she categorized as ‘impossible’.  At first, we thought the database had somehow gotten corrupt, but KAI assures us it’s intact.”

“Well, what it is?” Dr. Sepp asked.

“Transmitting now.”

An audible gasp rose from a couple of the team members.  This was indeed clearly impossible.  The photo showed what looked like a small town.  At least that was what it appeared to be.  There was a central open plaza surrounded with a distinct pattern of streets inside an irregular pentagonal-shaped wall.  Although the image was from orbit, it was clear there were tall and small structures along with various shaped buildings within the confines of a tiny walled settlement.

“Energy readings?” Commander Hittan asked.

“Negative, full EM.”

“The entire spectrum is dark?”

“As far as we can tell it’s abandoned.”

That led to another round of looks exchanged in the shuttle.

“Any sign of other habitations?”

“None.  There are what appear to be scattered middens and a couple of what seem to be open pit mines nearby, but that’s it.”

“I thought we were the first to arrive here,” the commander exclaimed.

“Captain assures us we’re the first survey team to enter this system.”

“You’re sure it’s abandoned?” Hittan asked, still completely perplexed.

“Look for yourself.”  The data had been streaming next to the images.  Everyone in the shuttle agreed.  Without any viable energy source, no one could be living there.

“Coordinates?” Hittan asked.

“One hundred fifty kilometers northeast of your position.”

Before he realized it, the commander blurted it out.  “What if it was an alien outpost?”

There was an instant response from the team in the shuttle.  Laughter.

The commander sought to rebound quickly from that gaffe.  “Think we should investigate?” he asked the captain.

“Of course.”

Dr. Kem looked at the time.  “Dr. Beld, what’s the estimate for amount of sunlight left at that location?”

“Unell, run the calculation,” Dr. Beld told him.

There was a moment of quiet while the shuttle crew watched Unell’s fingers dance across his console.

“The primary will have set already,” Unell said.  “But if you take off now you’ll have approximately fifty-five minutes before civil twilight ends from the secondary sun.”

Hittan input the coordinates and had the computer determine the best route to get there in ten minutes.  “We’ll take a quick look around and return to the shuttle before that happens.”

The captain nodded his approval.  “Be careful!”

“Strap in, people,” the commander told his passengers.

Chapter 13

Jonen unconsciously rubbed his forearm where the knot still ached every once in a while.  It had been four years since it was broken in the fight that handed him control of Kelesat.  Jonen had wondered a few times if the bones had been set properly.  The scanner that allowed one to see inside a human body had been destroyed long ago.

He had harbored resentment against Rumfel for more than a decade, letting it simmer all that time on purpose.  After all, he was Arasen’s blood.  Elder Rumfel was simply a follower.  Rumfel had declared himself the de facto leader of the people who gathered after they had fled the city.  Never mind that Jonen was only four years old when they were led away from the city.  Never mind that he couldn’t possibly lead a group of people to safety as a mere child.  None of that mattered to Jonen Vatch.  He was the rightful successor to his father and he proved it.

As Jonen grew up, in between prayers and learning how to hunt, he learned how to fight.  When he reached Eldership, after having been denied access to his father’s words from the Log Book for all that time, he had had enough.  Even his mother’s requests for Jonen to have private access to the Log Book fell on deaf ears.  After long years of practicing his skills, he had decided his time had finally come.  Rumfel had long ago taken complete control of the village.  No one had successfully challenged his authority.  Rumfel had kept the villagers together though, except for the group who had mysteriously disappeared, seemingly into thin air, after breaking open the tek vault many years ago.  Despite that, Jonen had long ago decided Rumfel had a distorted view of how the Path was to be followed.

The challenge had taken place in the open at the south end of the village.  Rumfel had been waiting for that day, he said.  He knew there would eventually be a challenge from Arasen’s son, and he welcomed it.

Rumfel was three decades older than Jonen.  That was to Jonen’s advantage, he figured.  Despite Jonen being swifter and more agile, Rumfel weighed considerably more than him.  Rumfel’s reign ended so quickly only because Jonen had been very lucky.  Jonen had almost immediately gotten the man in a headlock and held it until the man suffocated standing up.  Rumfel went limp and fell backwards on top of him, breaking both bones of Jonen’s left forearm.  He had nearly passed out from the pain.  Jonen decreed that no murder had been committed, but rather a taking of the authority that was rightfully his, had occurred.

As far as Jonen was concerned, The Path of Perfection had been bastardized without a Vatch at the lead.  So, over the last four years, he had watched the Log Book entries, memorized nearly every word, meditated and prayed.  He led Kelesat, forcing adherence when anyone strayed.  His rule would be a model.  His rule would last longer than Rumfel’s.  He decided he and he alone had the proper authority to lead his people to The Eye.  No interlopers would stop him.  Certainly, no invaders would prevent perfection from being achieved.  Not while he still breathed.  The memory of choking the life out of Rumfel proved to him that he could and would do it, or die trying.

Jonen was the first to see it.  The high wall that surrounded the city was just becoming visible.  The western gate was a dark spot from this distance, slowly growing larger as they drew closer.  Once they were close enough, the dot resolved into iron gates, which were rust red.  The rust had most likely formed due to the twice-yearly monsoon rains, and the periodic rains that, unfortunately, were becoming less frequent.

The men came to a stop.  “We’ll tie the beasts here and go in on foot,” Jonen told them, noting that one side of the gate was slightly open.  “Then we’ll spread out and look around.”  He dismounted, then pulled on the partially opened gate.  It didn’t move.  Several of the other elders helped.  Even with their combined strength, the gate wouldn’t budge.  Its massive rusted hinges were frozen in position.  However, the gap could easily fit the men through.

The xoss beasts were led to a group of huge colokotin trees, their foliage nearly the same color as the xoss.  Their branches arched up then draped down to the ground in a wide radial pattern, camouflaging all nine of the beasts within them.  The elders dismounted and pushed back the drape of broad fronds.  The beasts were led inside, then tied to the trunk.  Unless someone deliberately looked within the dense branches, they would most likely stay hidden for a few hours.

The men silently entered through the open gate and stood in a loose circle.  Jonen surveyed the empty streets, looking and listening for anything that might indicate that they weren’t alone.  He saw and heard nothing.

“Elder Pel, you and Gabek will come with me,” Jonen told them.  He then pointed to his ten o’clock position.  “Elder Desin, you and Elder Sab go that way.”  He pointed to his two o’clock position, then spoke again.  “Elder Bahki, you and Elder Urey go that way.  Elder Kamay, you and Elder Wesha follow the perimeter of the wall.  As discussed before, we’re here to assess the situation and see who might be here.  Everyone stay out of sight and report back here in one hour.”

Elders Kamay and Wesha took off.  Within minutes, they were out of visual range of the others, as buildings and debris separated the parties from each other.

“It feels strange being here,” Wesha told Kamay.

“I don’t like it at all.  I can just about feel the evil here,” Kamay told him.  The city had been off-limits to everyone for a very long time.  Ever since it died, it had been understood that something wasn’t right here.  Yet, not only was Wesha here, eight of his fellow elders were as well.  It seemed surreal.

Wesha eyed the wooden sidewalk on the right side of the street.  Many of the planks were broken or warped, preventing them from using it.  The road they were walking along was wide.  At least twenty men could walk abreast here.  Narrow walkways separated one-story buildings from each other.  Some of the buildings were higher but none higher than three stories.  Many broken windows faced the street.  Some of the doors at street level were open, revealing dark interiors.  Some interiors were lit though because their roofs had collapsed or had gaping holes in them.  Despite the obvious deterioration, Elder Wesha marveled at what he saw.  The level of construction capability here was far superior to what they had in the village.  They had pieced their village together using construction materials mostly derived from the forest.  He placed a hand against the brick wall of the building where he stood.  Most of the mortar was still intact.  Here and there were signs of the quake, like the haphazardly strewn bricks or a long crack in a wall.  In several areas, the entire face of a building had fallen down and had spilled into the street.  In some places cracks in the street’s surface provided footholds for plants and weeds.  Here and there, trees grew randomly.  While clearly abandoned, the city nonetheless showed him that their fathers knew something they did not know.  It was nothing short of amazing.

Elder Kamay watched as his companion stroked the bricks on a nearby wall.  “What are you doing?” he asked.  Why he was whispering he didn’t know, but the ghostly venue seemed to force him to keep his voice down.

“Our parents knew things we don’t,” Wesha told him.

“There were evil people here too, elder.  This city still contains their filth.”

“Kamay, not all of them were evil.  Evil people are incapable of making such a fine dwelling.  Look at the construction of this wall.  It’s intact despite no one taking care of it.”

Kamay refused to acknowledge Wesha’s observation.

Wesha shook his head.  They continued on.  In front of them, a half kilometer of buildings stretched into the distance.  Choking weeds grew out of the gravelly pavement.  Here and there, tiny sand dunes were piled against debris.

“Look in the doorways,” Kamay told Wesha. “I’ll go across the street.  You stay on this side.”

Kamay crossed the street.  Sunlight beat down on them.  There was a covering along most of the sidewalks that had at one time been used for shade.  It had fallen or blown off in more places than not.

The two men poked their heads into open doors and looked inside as they went along the road.  So far, there was no sign of intruders.  Finally, they came to an intersection.  To their left was an imposing building.  Tall double doors were open to the street.  Piles of fine sand sat in bins just outside the doors.  Inside the structure were rectangular frames on legs sitting side by side.  The frames held rollers.  Wesha stepped inside momentarily to try to discern what this building had been used for.  It became apparent within moments.  Everywhere he looked were panes of glass.  Several lay on top of the rollers, dust covering them.  Some of the glass to his left was broken.  Many of the panes were stacked vertically, seemingly ready for use.  At the far end of the expansive space was a huge clay oven extending to the ceiling.  Soot was all over the front of it.  The open maw was dark, as was most of the interior of the building.  Next to it, a lifeless bot lay on its side, crumpled over one of the roller arrays.  Wesha had seen a bot only one time before and that one wasn’t functioning either.  He marveled at the extent this operation must have once been.

Wesha realized he was thinking about things in that forbidden way once again, but he couldn’t help it.  He was surrounded by a dead city that contained marvels now gone, by those who were born before Kelesat was even conceived of.  It was a time he wasn’t supposed to think about, but was mulling over anyway.  Wesha glanced at his companion.  He has no idea what you’re thinking, the elder assured himself.  Back to the task at hand, he continued on, prying his thoughts from things he shouldn’t concern himself with.

The two elders had searched no less than twenty buildings when they realized their time was almost up.  When they emerged back outside to start back, they saw the nearly silent object in the sky.  Both peered up at it.  It descended toward the opposite side of the city from them.

“What is that?”  Kamay asked, fear evident in his voice.

“Them!  Quick.  Get out of sight.”

Immediately, they dashed back inside the glass-making building.  Wesha peered out a moment later and saw no sign of the craft.  He signaled all was clear.  Both headed back to their rendezvous spot.  They traveled swiftly, intent on reporting back to Jonen about what they saw.  After they had traveled several blocks, Elder Kamay saw Elder Bahki duck into a doorway.  He and Wesha headed there as well.

Everyone else was already there.  Peering out from inside the dark space, they jostled for position behind a dust-streaked window.  From their vantage, they could see the shuttle many blocks away as it hovered like a huge nostern ready to pounce on a frightened bejit rat.  After crisscrossing the tops of the far buildings a couple of times, it landed outside the far wall.

Everyone looked at Elder Jonen.

He withdrew a knife from the sheath tied to his calf.  “Make sure they don’t get back in their flying ship,” he told them gravely.

Chapter 14

Commander Hittan hovered Cloud Hopper high over the settlement, making sure sensors and cameras were at maximum sensitivity.  As they descended, it rapidly became clear that the town had long since been abandoned.  There was much rubble in the streets.  The signs of a fire were evident at one end of the town, as it had charred several dozen buildings.  Plants grew in random locations: in eaves, inside buildings, the middle of the street.  Intact roofs were in short supply.

For several moments no one spoke.  Everyone was simply too stunned.  Dr. Sepp finally broke the silence.  “It doesn’t seem possible.”

“No kidding,” Niko replied, under his breath.

“Not a single energy signature,” Hittan announced.  “I’m landing outside the wall though.  No telling if there’s an automated aerial intruder system unknown to our sensor equipment.”  He landed the craft a dozen meters from the eastern gate.

Everyone was in a total quandary.  Who could have possibly built an entire town, which looked perfectly human in construction, and done it without anyone knowing the planet was occupied?  Indeed, why had it become abandoned?  None of them were archeologists.  They were going to have to rely solely on their survey mission training to gather clues.

“We’ve only got a little daylight left,” the commander told the team as he checked the time.

Despite no sign of a threat that might require them, everyone drew weapons.  Protocol dictated that Arita stay behind once again.  He pulled out his weapon as well, just in case.  Arita stood at the back of the shuttle as the men and woman descended the steps.

“Do you really think we should have weapons drawn?  If there are intelligent beings here, we would look like a real threat,” Dr. Sepp said to the commander.

Niko understood what she meant.  All in all, their safe suits made them look like a squad of goons.  But that was not the case at all.  They were dressed for exploration.

“It’s unlikely people are in there but keep your weapons ready anyway.  There could be dangerous animals,” Hittan told her.

The team approached the metal gate and observed the mechanism that served to hold the two halves together.  The iron doors were severely rusted.  Once close enough, they realized it wasn’t fully closed.  The two halves were open just wide enough for a man to squeeze through sideways.

“No steel here,” Niko said as he touched one side with a gloved hand.  “It’s made of crude rolled iron.”

The commander peered through the opening and saw nothing dangerous on the other side.  “Ezic.  Savaidras.  Let’s see if we can widen this gap.”  He pointed to the right half of the gate.  The three men dug in their heels and pushed hard from the inside.  Ultimately, they were able to widen the opening twenty-five more centimeters.

The team went through one by one.  They stood in the middle of a wide avenue that extended to at least the center of town.  On both sides of them were low buildings, some clad with wooden planks.  Others were faced with stone.  Here and there, bricks that had once covered the front of some of the buildings had spilled out onto the road.  Between the piles were tiny sand dunes, weeds of all types and dead organic matter.  Nothing biological other than plant life was seen.

Ezic spoke to Niko.  “You know those vids of the Old West?”

“What ‘Old West’?”

“The North American Old West.  1800s.”

“Never seen one,” Niko replied, shaking his head.

“This looks like a ghost town from that era.  It’s seriously creepier than in the vids though.”  That was all Ezic had to say about it.

Everyone fanned out in a line and started down the wide road.  A few moments later Ezic, being furthest to the right, made his way to a window of the building closest to him.

Most of the buildings they had passed by so far had skewed doorways, collapsed or partially collapsed roofs and broken windows.  Niko suddenly recognized the pattern.  He stepped closer to Dr. Kem.  “I’ve seen plenty of vid and stills of this kind of damage,” Niko told him.  “The bricks spilled out onto the streets, the windows cracked and broken and the fire damage at the northern end of town.  Looks like a quake hit here.”

Dr. Kem nodded his agreement of Niko’s assessment.

Commander Hittan was standing next to them.  “I don’t see a dead body anywhere.”

“It happened quite some time ago,” Dr. Kem replied.  “We can get an approximate date of when the fire occurred and when the planks were made once we get some carbon samples.”

Niko nodded his agreement of that.

The commander looked at his comm.  “Well, that’s going to happen tomorrow.  We’ve got about twenty minutes before the second sun sets, then only a few more minutes of twilight after that.”

“Hey, over here!” Ezic called out.  Everyone looked his way.

*

The elders broke up into parties of two again and fanned out.  Moving in short bursts, they went from building to building then street by street, toward where they had seen the shuttle land.  Elders Jonen and Pel were together.  They had already gotten close enough to hear something.  The two elders stopped dead in their tracks.  The words were clear.  “That was Stellex,” Pel whispered.  “I know I heard someone yell, ‘Hey, over here.’”

Jonen nodded.  It was indeed spoken in distinct Stellex.  Where the voice came from was the question though.  Although it was quiet here, sounds traveled back and forth among the empty buildings in peculiar ways.

Jonen whispered.  “You go that way.”  He waved his hand to get the attention of Gabek, who followed a block behind them.  Gabek waved back.  Jonen gave him a hand signal indicating he should be on guard but to come toward them.  Gabek acknowledged him and pressed himself into a shadow.  He dashed across the street to be on the same side as Jonen and Pel, slowly making his way toward them.  Jonen told Gabek what they heard.  “Head that way,” he said as he pointed.  “We’ll go down this alley.  Stay out of sight.”

Gabek returned to the other side of the street and continued on.  Their disadvantage was that they had no way to remotely communicate with each other.  No one had any sort of comm device.

Jonen wound his way back and forth amongst the piles of bricks that lay randomly spilled in the streets.  Finally, as he rounded one of the buildings, he saw several men dressed in imposing uniforms walking away from him.  They were headed toward a third person standing at the door of the building not more than thirty meters away.  Jonen very nearly held his breath as he watched, trying to assess their individual strengths.  He scrutinized the menacing-looking people, noting that all of them had weapons.  He and his men were at a clear disadvantage.  He was surprised when he realized one of the people was a woman.  Her body shape instantly gave her away beneath the form-fitting uniform.

Jonen withdrew from his position and backtracked.  He sprinted his way back across a weed-covered alleyway, avoiding piles of debris.  He caught sight of the two other elders and waved to them.  They all met at the corner of a building under an eave.  Jonen whispered.  “There are five of them one street over,” he told them.  “One is a woman.  They just entered one of the buildings.”

“We should strike now while they’re unaware of us,” Gabek said.

Jonen shook his head.  “All of them have weapons.  We need the other elders.  We might have the advantage right now, but we don’t know the city.”

“Neither do they,” Pel told him, eager as well to make his move.

Jonen knew they had what appeared to be a tactical advantage, but he wanted a solid strategic one.  “They have superior weapons,” he reiterated.  “We must get the others before we try anything.”

The three elders backtracked even further in an attempt to find the rest of their men.  Jonen grew a bit worried.  Twilight was rapidly approaching.  He too felt compelled to strike, but now simply wasn’t the time.  He knew their numbers and had assessed their apparent weapons strength.  He now aimed for the best outcome.

*

Ezic had noted that the one-story building was in particularly good condition.  Most of the facade was intact.  All of the windows along the first floor were at head height, unbroken and dust-streaked.  He had only a small handheld light with him and pressed it against the window.  Its beam was too feeble to illuminate anything from outside.  The front double doors yielded with a slight push.  “Whoa,” he said to himself as he read the sign.

After yelling for the others, they quickly met him at the open doors.

“You guys are not gonna believe this,” he told the commander excitedly.  They stepped inside.  Low sunlight streamed into what looked like a large lobby, and cast long shadows against the far wall.  Ahead of them was a wide counter.  A layer of dust and debris covered the floor and the long countertop.  Chairs lined several of the walls.  Above the counter, hanging on a sign from the ceiling in large bold letters, was written ‘Hall of Records’.

“Wow!” Niko exclaimed.  This was the first indication that humans had indeed built the town.  In addition, a hall of records would be just the thing they needed to determine what they had discovered.

The commander looked at the lengthening shadows.  “Who has light?”

Ezic waved his.  Niko dug into his utility belt pouch and produced a small light source of his own.  “Here,” he said as he turned it on.  No one else had one.

“Look for anything that might identify this place.  Make it quick,” Hittan told them.  “We’re not staying here after sunset.  No telling what sort of creatures pop out after dark.”

Quickly, the men went behind the counter, looking for clues.  There were four desks and chairs behind it.  A few papers were lying about but most were faded and yellowed, as well as dust-covered.  Inspecting the papers yielded nothing readable.  Most crumbled to the touch anyway.

Dr. Kem followed Niko, who shone his light on a couple of the desktops.  Based on their design it seemed that at one time, display screens might have been in place on their surface, but nothing was there now.

“How about under that front counter?” Niko asked Dr. Kem.  Closed cabinets ran along the entire length of the countertop.  Dr. Kem opened them one at a time while Niko aimed the light.  On the fourth try, he found a memory crystal in a box half-buried under a pile of curled up paper.  “Jackpot!” Niko called out.  His voice echoed considerably in the open dark space.

“What’d you find?” the commander asked.

“Looks like a mem crystal,” Dr. Kem said as he held it up.

“Good,” the commander replied.  “We’re leaving.”

Just as they emerged from the building the last of the direct rays of the secondary sun fell behind the building to their right.

Chapter 15

Elders Urey and Bahki were nowhere near the other elders.  They entered an open back door of a building off the alley they were walking in.  “We can cut through here,” Urey told him.

Bahki nodded.  Just before they reached the partially opened front room, they heard voices on the other side.  One of them sounded like Elder Gabek.  Why was he talking so loudly?  No, there was something different about the voice.  Elder Bahki pressed his index finger against his lips as he grabbed Elder Urey’s arm to get his attention.  Urey instantly understood to stay quiet.

The room had two large picture windows.  Both were streaked with dust, obscuring the majority of the street from view.  The elders quickly and quietly went to them.  Watching intently, they saw five members of the survey team.  They looked absolutely menacing in their green and black uniforms, helmets and holstered weapons.  The interlopers were obviously unaware they were being watched since they were stopped not more than two meters in front of the window.

The elders barely dared to breathe, sure that at any minute they’d be discovered.

“Let me see that,” Commander Hittan said.  Dr. Kem handed the mem crystal to the commander.  He looked at the end.  “I’ve not seen a connector like this.  I hope we have an interface for it.”

“KAI can make one, of course,” Niko told him.

“Yeah, is there anything KAI can’t do?” Hittan responded rhetorically.  He handed the crystal back to the man, tapped the comm on his wrist, and held it close to his mouth.  “Hittan to Arita, do you copy?”

“Arita here, sir.  Are you guys okay?  It’s getting dark.”

“Heading back now.  We found something that might be useful to determine what this place is.  Keep a look out for critters.”

“I hear you, sir.  Floods on,” he said as he switched on the outside lights.  Ringing the craft in a full circle, the floods brightly illuminated the surrounding area out to half a dozen meters.

The commander looked at the signal indicator on his comm, then shook his head slightly.  “Ship’s out of range.  Can’t call to let them know what we found,” he told the group.  “I’ll let them know when we get back into orbit.  I suspect we’ll be returning as soon as we can tomorrow.”  Without any further discussion, the men continued on their way toward the shuttle.

Bahki waited until everyone was out of sight, then crept to the door.  He watched them all leave through the gate.  The last man stopped briefly, turned around and looked back at the empty street.  Bahki quickly pulled his head back, hoping he wouldn’t be seen.  His elbow struck the door as he moved.  The sound it made reverberated inside the room.

At the far end of the street, standing at the gate, Survey Guard First Class Niko Savaidras thought he saw a motion at a doorway down the street very near where they had stopped earlier.  A moment later he heard a noise he couldn’t identify.  He hesitated as he peered into the gathering gloom.

“Savaidras,” the commander called out.  “Get over here.”

“Yes, sir,” he answered.  There were too many shadows to determine what he saw.  Since it was such a brief motion, he was sure it was his imagination.  But that noise?  Maybe it was an animal stirring.  There was no way to know.  The biological survey had barely started.  Perhaps these long-deserted buildings held dozens of different kinds of night denizens.

*

It took an hour and a half to rendezvous with the ship.  The survey team reviewed the vids, yet found nothing new that might explain the settlement.  Such a find was entirely unprecedented in the history of humanity.  All they could figure was that a rogue group of humans had, at some time, migrated to this system.  But when?  And how could they have not been part of a targeted colonization effort?  How could they have traveled nearly sixty light-years from Earth – nearly fifty from Eridanus – and no one had ever heard of such a voyage?  No one knew and no one could explain it.

Everyone aboard Farwinds had been discussing the discovery.  By the time the shuttle had been secured in the shuttle bay, no one still had a plausible explanation for the find.  Before examining the evidence, the team’s first priority was to process the biological and geological samples.  While the survey team did that, the commander met with the captain.

“I’ve not seen this type before,” Captain Abarru said as he inspected the mem crystal.  “So, into the analyzer it goes.”

The commander followed the captain to the engine room.  It had an appropriate analyzer compartment.  He switched the device on and placed the mem crystal into it.

KAI’s holographic interface appeared.  She looked down at the device.  “Scanning now,” she told them.  It appeared as if she was staring at the object but her visual interface was for appearance only.  The analyzer contained thousands of sensor inputs that accessed her knowledge, archive and instructional databases.  Seconds later she responded.  “This object is a mem crystal typical of the period from 2740 through 2782 CE.  Mem crystals of this design became obsolete after x-ray data filtration fell out of favor for quantum isolation layering.”

The commander did the math in his head.  “That puts it anywhere from fifty-four to, uh, ninety-six years old.”

The captain shook his head.  The mystery deepened.  When and where had this thing come from?  “KAI,” he asked.  “Can an interface be made that will read it?”

“The ship’s database has the template.”

“Make one.”

“Please proceed to the processing room.”

The captain took the crystal and they went to the tool manufacturing room.  By the time they arrived, a green light on the molecular builder’s lid indicated that an interface was waiting.  Inside was a small square ceramic box and two interface cables.  They were still warm when the captain retrieved them and set them on the counter.

“I haven’t seen that type of cable end in years,” the commander said.  He picked up the thinner of the two cables and attached one end to the mem crystal.  The other end had a standard connector on it.  He attached that to the ceramic interface module.  The other cable plugged into the opposite end of the ceramic module.  The remaining end went into an input next to a display.

“KAI.  Can you read any data?”

“One moment,” she said.  Several seconds later, her face lit up in a smile.  “I have something.  The manufacturing codes tell me it was made by Linaeus Industries on Earth.”  That certainly got their attention.  “Linaeus Industries was absorbed by a conglomerate in the latter part of the last century.  The majority of the data is severely degraded.  Only one file is even partially intact.  Displaying results now.”

The counter next to the crystal glowed.  The captain placed two fingers onto opposite corners of the image that appeared.  That action drew the edges apart, making it large enough for both of them to read.

The two men looked at each other briefly.  It looked like a spreadsheet of random numbers.  Captain Abarru scrolled down the file, looking for anything meaningful.

“Wait,” the commander said.  “That cell says Arasen City.  KAI, do you have any references to that name?”

“There is no reference in any of my survey databases for an Arasen City.  On the other hand, there is an extensive archive on a man named Arasen Vatch.”

“Oh no,” the commander said.

“No way,” the captain replied, incredulous.  “KAI, display data on Arasen Vatch with reference to the day he went missing.”

Next to the data they had been reading, a new frame appeared.  The commander, being closer to that one, widened the frame.  A holo appeared of the man.  Text appeared next to it.  Both men started reading.  Twenty seconds later the captain acted.  “KAI, contact the survey team members no matter where they are on the ship.  Have them join us in the conference room in ten minutes.”

*

After everyone was seated and quiet, the captain placed the mem crystal on the table.  “KAI was able to read this, of course.  Only one of the files contained anything useful, a reference to the town’s name: Arasen City.”

The temperature of the room seemed to skyrocket all the sudden, making Niko squirm in his chair.

“KAI, you may begin,” the captain said.

KAI appeared at the head of the room.  She was standing in front of an orbital view of Eridanus Prime displayed on the wall behind her.  To her left was an overlay holo of a waving figure, a dashing young Arasen Vatch.  He was all smiles.  There were people behind him clapping.  The sound had been muted, but it was obvious the vid was of a campaign speech.

KAI began to read aloud what was being displayed beside her.  “Arasen Vatch was born on Earth in 2722.  The Vatch family emigrated to Eridanus Colony when he was five.  The family settled first in Starbridge, then later moved to Gagarin City, the capitol.  There, Arasen began his political career, rising to prominence due to his charismatic personality.

“His life took an unorthodox detour in the mid-2750s when it was later learned he had invented a religion called The Path of Perfection.  He assembled a clandestine group of followers he called Path Holders.  The main tenet of this religion was that a ‘path’ could be followed that would lead mankind to perfection.  This path consisted of The Shape and The Character.  The Shape was nine ideals presented as a three-dimensional model.  The Character was that the path was one’s best friend, a companion, if you will, that walks with you throughout your life.  Another facet of his religion was that The Path leads one to an afterlife in a perfected state after an interim stop at a location called The Eye.

“It was also later learned that he was merely exploiting an unusual cultural phenomenon growing in the colony for nearly two decades.  Some residents of Gagarin City and Kefka had been participating in periodic public denouncements of civilization’s technological progress.  They believed reliance on tek was preventing humanity from reaching a perfected state of being.  They called for simplification and streamlining of society, the renouncing of cybernetic implants, refusal of the use of nano-medical devices, and the shunning of many types of photronic technology.  In addition, it was believed by many of those anti-tek zealots that civilization had become degenerate due to the coddling of those they considered ‘inferior’.

“Vatch was their leader, albeit not publicly.  He successfully fused his so-called revealed religious beliefs with the beliefs of the anti-tek populace, who then become a formidable voting bloc.  Shortly thereafter, at age thirty-one, Arasen campaigned to become Eridanus Prime’s colonial director.  Tens of thousands of ardent supporters mobilized in favor of his campaign.  In 2757 he became the colony’s fifth leader after defeating Fen Savaidras in an extremely close, and later, contested election.  News reports of the time expressed surprise at his broad popularity, not knowing he had been building a hidden constituency for several years.”

The captain stopped KAI.  That was another name everyone in the room knew.  All eyes went to Niko.

“Savaidras?” the captain asked, suddenly quite surprised at this turn of events.  “Any relation?”

Niko gulped.  “Yes, sir.  He was my grandfather.”

Everyone stirred at that.  Dr. Kem even emitted a ‘whoa’.

“Well, this is certainly interesting,” Captain Abarru said.  “We’re familiar enough with your father, of course, but maybe you can fill us in about your grandfather.”

“Whew.  Where do I begin?  You all know what he did.  Vatch, that is.  But I’m sure you don’t know any of the details of how my grandfather was involved.”

“That’s why I asked,” the captain said.  “Most of us here are from Earth.  We’re not steeped in Eridanus history.”

“Regardless,” Niko said, “you all know that Vatch was a mass murderer.  When he ordered his followers to blow several of the airlock hatches in Gagarin City and Kefka, nearly twenty-one thousand people died.  More than half my family perished.  My grandfather survived the incident.  He took charge and saved the two cities.  If it hadn’t been for him, the entire population would have died.”

“Fen was your grandfather?” Unell asked.  He was sitting closest to Niko.  “I should have paid more attention in history class.”  He was the only other person present who was born on Eridanus and had attended school there.  He shook his head, still unable to grasp the enormity of what they’d apparently stumbled across.

Niko told them more.  Fen had died just before Niko was born.  The man had become an icon and a hero to his family long before that though.  Whenever Niko’s father talked about him, it was with near reverence.  The man’s public life had been recorded in great detail.  The personal stories Niko had heard from his older family members had been told to him more than once: about how Fen mobilized hundreds to seal the airlocks and saved the majority of the population, and how the population turned against him afterward when he was unable to mobilize resources to save so many others.  It wasn’t his fault that communications had been disrupted, key people needed to smoothly run the cities had been killed, and the death of so many people had halted all normal civic and business activities.  His grandfather could only do so much, could only organize so many people in the midst of a disaster of unprecedented proportion.  How could anything think he could be a miracle worker?  Fen’s political career never recovered.  “He did the best he could,” Niko told them, suddenly felt drained.

No one spoke for several seconds.  The enormity of what Niko described was palpable.

The captain realized he needed to keep things moving.  “KAI, uh, continue about Vatch.”

KAI looked up at the faces around the table and continued.  “Arasen Vatch’s followers helped him consolidate power, which he dramatically demonstrated a year after the election.  As you are all aware, in the days before FTL travel, cold sleep hibernation using old-style Planck Energy System drives was the only method of near-FTL interstellar transport.  Dozens of such sub-light ships were in the system when the events that First Guard Savaidras just recounted occurred.  The USS Ascension, the largest cold sleep ship in orbit, had been hijacked, as had fifteen fully-laden planetary supply ships from Earth.  Vatch, along with hundreds of his most loyal followers in those ships, was leaving the system when the air locks blew.  Damage to those air locks was only one part of a highly coordinated attack on the colony.

“Log files of that era contain record of possible trajectories for Arasen’s fleet, but pursuing them was not considered possible due to the enormity of the disaster and lack of resources to mount an interstellar search.”

“Thank you, KAI,” the captain said.

KAI clasped her hands and bowed slightly.  She stood nearly motionless, her eyes not looking at anyone in particular.

The captain cleared his throat.  “That was, of course, a watershed event in history, and why the Institute has Directive Eight of its Planetary Survey Service Policy.  That directive stems from the N1 Expression law, which can legally deny employment with us.”

“I can’t believe we’ve known about N1 for nearly five hundred years but only implemented such a law only fifty years ago,” Niko said rhetorically.

“Savaidras, those incidents didn’t seem to hurt your family’s political fortune,” the commander said.

“My father’s rise in politics didn’t come about without a lot of challenges.”

“KAI,” the captain asked.  “Have scans turned up anything in orbit, say, remnants of ships or manmade debris?”

“Nothing anomalous that suggests we aren’t the first to arrive here has turned up.  I will fine tune scans for orbital debris associated with manned space exploration.”

“Do it,” the captain said.

Dr. Beld turned to the captain.  “If anything’s found, I’ll have it analyzed.”

The captain nodded.  “This is all only a working assumption based on a single clue.”  He turned toward the rest of the men and woman sitting around the table.  “So, effective immediately, our primary objective has changed.  We are no longer looking at a pristine planet.  Although the town appears old and deserted we can’t conclude just yet that no one’s alive.  KAI, give us time dilation information.”

“Sleep and supply ships of that era were capable of .999c and regularly ran at that velocity.  Assuming the USS Ascension and its entourage traveled here, and based on the standard time dilation and deceleration matrix, we know and can conclude the following.  This star system is 48.3 light years from Epsilon Eridani.  Relative passage of time aboard their ship would have been 1.3 years.  In stasis, the population would have aged .007 years.  From our reference point, the passage of time since Vatch’s escape has been approximately 72.5 years.  Given his age at the time of his disappearance and assuming he survived, he would be approximately sixty years old today.  Most of his followers, if still alive, would be between that age and eighty years old.  In addition, we must consider that at least one generation, if not a second, of children were born since their arrival.”

The captain tapped the tabletop several times with a finger.  “I’ll guess that if Vatch is down there he’s young enough to stand trial, but I’m not a lawyer.  On the other hand, I am a starship captain.  So, I’m making an executive decision.  We’re going to delay bringing up geological and biological samples for the short run.  I want you to focus your attention on what can be learned about the settlement.  Given that there is indeed a wall around the town, with iron gates no less, we should consider that there might have been a threat of some sort.

“Dr. Sepp, have you or Ezic come across any large predators?”

“No sir,” the biologist told him.  “But we’ve performed only a cursory examination of the fauna, and in a totally different area.”

He glanced at Ezic, who shook his head.  “We haven’t had the chance to do so yet,” he offered.

“Dr. Beld.”

“Yes, captain.”

“Have surface scans indicated any other settlements?”

“No, sir.  But we weren’t looking for this one in the first place.  It was a fluke a standard scan caught it, given how tiny the settlement is.  I’ll have the scanners adjusted for full spectrum imaging.”  He glanced at Unell, who nodded.

The captain looked down at the display on the tabletop.  “What about disease agents?”

Everyone looked at each other.

“We have no idea yet whether a disease was or is present and may have wiped out some or all of the population.”  The captain pressed the comm icon on the tabletop.  “Dr. Heskid, we need you in the conference room.”

Several minutes later the ship’s medical doctor, Fattel Heskid arrived and was briefed about their findings.  “The entire crew should be scanned,” he told them.  “If there are any human disease agents you might have come in contact with, I’ll easily find markers.  When will you be concluding this meeting?”

“Immediately!” the captain emphasized.  “I want everyone on board scanned right away.”

The doctor had everyone injected with standard short-lived medical nanobots.  Several hours later, after their data had been transmitted and examined, he could find no discernible disease agents.  Microscans of hair and skin from the landing party only turned up dust and pollen.  As far as he was concerned, the survey team hadn’t encountered anything that would point to a plague or communicable diseases brewing in anyone.

It was well past one in the morning, ship’s time, yet the captain called for another meeting of the survey crew in the conference room.

“Tomorrow, everyone is going to the surface except for Dr. Beld.  I need you to continue going through the high resolution scans of the surface.”

Dr. Beld nodded.  He’d get his chance to go to the surface soon enough.

The captain continued.  “The rest of you will look for personal effects, photos, written records, more mem crystals, the works.  I’ll be up here, of course, and will have KAI scour the mem crystal for anything that’s been deleted that might be useful.  I want to know who built that place.  I want to know if this is indeed where Vatch and his followers came.  It’s entirely possible we’ve stumbled across that bastard’s lair.”

Chapter 16

A quarter kilometer from the city the elders nestled themselves under a sandstone overhang at the bottom of a wide wash.  No one felt comfortable spending the night within the city walls.  The sandstone on either side of the wash was a dozen meters high, carved by many ancient torrential rains.  The fire they had built was so small and so close to the wall face that Jonen felt there was no way its light could possibly be seen from orbit.  He had no idea whether the ship could detect them by other means.  Thus, he felt the need to determine a correct course of action as quickly as possible.

“You’re sure you heard him right?” Jonen asked Bahki.

“I’m positive.  They’re coming back tomorrow.  We still have time to take them out.”

Jonen cracked a smug smile.  “After they return, their friends in orbit will never know how they died.  We’ll be long gone after we complete that task.  Kelesat will be safe.”  Jonen poked the fire a few times.  They spent the next hour discussing how they might be able to kill as many as possible, while capturing at least one of them.  Finally, with a plan of action in place, he yawned.  “Everyone get some sleep.  I’ll take first watch tonight.”

*

Commander Hittan entered the shuttle and took his place in the pilot’s seat.  He was the last one on board.  The compliment included one more than yesterday, that being First Guard Unell.

Dr. Beld was quite busy back on the Farwinds, poring over the scans KAI was gathering.  Anomalous readings required confirmation by expert human eyes.  The planet was a typical large terrestrial world.  There was no telling whether the previous inhabitants or the descendants of the deserted town, if any were still alive, were nearby or were scattered around the planet.  The astrophysicist was sure he’d find out soon.

*

Enyi’s early morning light shined on Tren’s closed eyes from the open end of the tent.  He had deliberately made sure the flap was opened hours earlier so the dawn would wake him.  He heard Keenam humming but couldn’t see him as he turned over onto his back.  Tren could smell the aroma of breakfast.  He stretched.  The sheet fell away from his lower body revealing a tan line, then his ever-present morning erection.  He fiddled with it briefly.

At that moment, Keenam popped his head in.  He looked at Tren’s crotch, then his face.  He hesitated, then realized Trenekis wasn’t masturbating after all.  “That stew will be ready in a few minutes,” he said.

Trenekis looked at Keenam, then down at himself as he pulled the sheet over his loins.  Neither of them had shaved for the last two days.  Tren rather liked the way a few days of stubble looked on Keenam’s face.  He quickly dismissed the thought.  There would be no more repeats of the other night.          “I’ll be up in a minute,” Tren said with a distinctly angry tone.

“Tren,” Keenam said in exasperation as he withdrew.

Trenekis glanced back.  Keenam was no longer there.  He needed to pee.  He pulled on a loincloth from his nearby bag and donned it.  It did nothing to hide his erection.  Nonetheless, he didn’t want Keenam to say anything he didn’t want to hear.  He relieved himself beside a nearby bush, then quickly fed his xoss beast.  Returning to the campfire, he took the proffered cup of thick stew from Keenam.  A pouch of caracasis nuts was open in a small bowl.  Tren popped two into his mouth and crunched down on them.

“You okay now?”  Keenam asked.

Tren sighed and nodded.

Keenam decided to lighten the mood anyway.  He reached out and brushed back the lock of hair that had fallen across Tren’s cheek.  “You look cute.  Don’t shave.”

Tren glanced over at his kit bag.  Inside its double-skinned pouch was the sharpened obsidian razor, along with his shaving powder.  Keenam had a nearly identical kit.  Eating up the compliment, Tren decided he wouldn’t use it today.

Tren blew on the hot stew and sipped.  Shortly thereafter, they were done with breakfast, broke camp and started on the next leg of their journey.

Soon enough the boys reached a low area next to a dry wash, one of the numerous washes that crisscrossed the terrain.  After having traveled nearly five kilometers by Keenam’s reckoning, Trenekis noticed the ridge-like object dead ahead to the north.  Despite using the monocular several times, they weren’t high enough to see what it was.  Finally, they reached a pile of boulders.

“This will do,” Keenam told Trenekis.  “Hold these.”  He dropped to the ground and handed Trenekis the reins.  Keenam swung the monocular strap over his shoulder and started up the rock pile.  Thirty seconds later after scanning up ahead, he started back down.

Trenekis shaded his eyes as he watched Keenam pick his way back to ground level.  Above Keenam in the sky, Trenekis briefly watched Cham, the smallest and swiftest of the four moons.  It was so close it looked like it could be plucked right out of the sky.  It traveled so fast, one could very nearly watch it change phase in an hour’s time.  It was difficult, at best, to watch it through the telescope, too.  It traveled way too fast to get a good look at it.

Reaching the ground, Keenam took the reins from Trenekis and mounted his xoss beast.

“Well?” Trenekis asked.

“It’s a wall.  Looks like there’s a gate or something, too.”

Trenekis pressed the on icon on the vidpad.  The single hand-drawn outline of the city lit up the display.  It’s crude pentagonal shape had dark marks at five equally spaced positions.  Someone had sketched it before he had been given the device.  Tren had never seen a photo or vid of the city.  The only thing he could figure was that someone, perhaps many more, had purged their past by removing anything that reminded them of it.

They were approaching from the south, so perhaps the dark spot was the southernmost gate?  “Finally, this makes sense,” he said.  He showed Keenam.  “Maybe these dark marks are openings.”

Keenam shrugged his shoulders.  They slapped the reins and prodded the xoss beasts forward.

*

Enyi had just started making the sky glow with early morning light when Elder Desin, who had last watch, woke the rest of the men.  Thirty minutes later, everyone was ready, having eaten a quick meal.

They rode toward the western gate and tied their xoss beasts under the same branches as the day before.  Standing just inside the gate, the men quietly finalized their plans.  Clearly outgunned, Jonen was somewhat apprehensive.  Nonetheless, he didn’t dare show any sign of weakness to the others.  Yet, attempting to take out the majority of the interlopers was paramount.  But how would the ones still in orbit react?  What would he do if he were their leader?  If his elders killed enough of them, would the others retaliate or flee?  By Jonen’s reckoning, heretics had no moral foundation.  Given that, they should instantly be filled with fear and have no choice but to cower.  Yet, perhaps the men from the sky would let loose unknown firepower on them.  This was an unprecedented situation.  He had no real way of determining with certainty which course of action the strangers would take.  There were far too many unknowns at work here.  He knew his recourse though, that of unleashing as much fury as he could to cause maximum damage.  It had worked for years.  He had no reason to suspect it would work any differently today, if need be.

Wesha was standing with his back toward the gate.  A movement just above the tops of the far buildings caught his eye.  He almost missed it because it came in low and in complete silence.  “Jonen!” he called out.  “They’re back.  Looks like they landed inside the city this time.”

Everyone turned and looked.  This was going to be easier than he suspected, Jonen thought.  There were plenty of places to hide in the city.  It would be easy to pick them off one-by-one.

*

Commander Hittan took the same trajectory as he had the day before.  He came in from the east again.  On his display was an orbital view of the city looking straight down.  KAI had made sure the ship’s imaging system had taken a good clear shot of it and had enhanced it in fine detail.  The settlement had been constructed in the shape of a pentagon, each segment of which had a gate in its center.  It still wasn’t clear why the city had been walled, but it was clear what they were made of.  Bricks.  Tens of thousands of them cut from petrified volcanic tuff.  Dr. Kem’s evaluation of the walls’ construction had been clear.  The nearby quarry, easily viewable from the orbital image, told them where the tuff had come from.  Either everyone had worked for years to construct the walls or they had bots working overtime to construct it.  Most likely, the latter.  But where were the bots now?  Indeed, where were the people?

Infrared scans proved that the town was near an ancient caldera.  Its nearest edge was located seventeen kilometers away, thus the reason why the city had sustained quake damage.  This was a geologically active region.  More detailed data gathering would determine how extensive that activity was.  But that was on hold.

The commander had determined there were no aerial weapons systems to be concerned about after all.  “We’ll start with that large building in the plaza,” he said as he pointed.  “There’s plenty of room to land.”

Arita nodded.  They touched down a few minutes later.

The back hatch was opened and the ramp lowered.  The survey team exited and drew their weapons.  The commander stood at the top of the ramp with Arita behind him.  They both looked out over the quiet space, their weapons drawn, too.

Niko noted that except for the huge building at the end of the square plaza, the rest of the surrounding buildings were only a story high.  Quake damage had done its work here.  A wall of the building to their right had buckled.  The bricks on the entire side had fallen to the ground.  Weeds grew everywhere in between them.  Next to it the roof had pancaked straight down inside the building.  Oddly enough, the entire front of the building showed almost no damage.  Niko figured these had been either shops or homes.

Their main focus was the building with columns.  There were large double doors in the center of the facade at the top of wide stairs.  All the doors were shut.  Most of the windows were intact.  The roof had shown little sign of damage.  The fact that the building appeared to be mostly undamaged might indicate it had been built with greater care than most of the others and was important.

*

Trenekis touched the rough bricks of the high massive wall that surrounded the southern gate of the city.  They were made of the same material that formed the rocks of the valley they lived in.  He turned his attention to the massive iron and wood gate.  It’s two halves looked like they might fall over at any moment.  But no, they were going nowhere.  The hinges looked quite rusted, holding the doors firmly in place.  The opening was wide enough for the boys but not for the xoss beasts.  They would have to stay put, but that was of little concern to Tren just now.  If they found anything useful that wouldn’t fit through the gate, they could use their xoss beasts to widen the gap or bring the doors down, if they had to.

Keenam tied the animals to metal rings affixed to the outer wall.  The hollowed out, half-buried tree trunk in front of the ring may have once been a water trough.  Perhaps other xoss had been tied here in the distant past, he thought.

Trenekis went through the gate and stood in the middle of a wide boulevard.  Keenam was right behind him.  On both sides of them were damaged buildings and piles of detritus.

“I don’t like the looks of this place,” Keenam said.  He had Tren’s vidpad, held it up and snapped a few pictures.

“Neither do I.  Let’s get started so we can get out of here as soon as we can.”

“Where are we going to start?”

Trenekis was squinting as he looked through the monocular.  “I see the top of a water tower over there.”

“And?”  Keenam said.

“Dalet said to look for it.”

“That’s right.  ‘Look for the nearby underground vault with the big metal doors.’”

Tren nodded.

The boys headed further into the abandoned city.  Minutes later, they arrived at the tower.  Cut beams of dense phalwood held up a wide cylindrical metal tank with a squat cone-shaped roof.  There were ragged rusty holes in the bottom of the tank and along the sides.  Rust completely covered its surface.  The tank looked like it might crumble to dust at any minute.  A ravine under a wide pipe led off to the left.  It had cut quite a scar into the dirt and sloped downward to an unusual-looking doorway below ground level.

Trenekis followed it with his eyes.  It went across the entire length of the street.  “I think that’s it!”

“The cache?”  Keenam asked.

Tren nodded.  “I think that’s the doorway below ground.”

They made a beeline toward it.  Long rectangular stones that had been used as steps led downward.  One of them was skewed.  Three meters below the surface, two wood and metal doors had, at one time, sealed the underground chamber.  One of the doors was open, revealing an inky black rectangle.  The ravine that started at the water tower led directly to the steps.

“This doesn’t look good,” Keenam said as he scrutinized the deep gouge in the dirt.  “I think a valve on that pipe broke,” he said as he pointed back toward the water tower, “and let all the water out.  Looks like it went right into the cache.”

“We have to look anyway.  Maybe something’s still down there,” Trenekis quickly told him.  But even as he said that he realized that if the door was open, it meant the cache might have been exposed to the elements for up to twenty years.

Tren took the vidpad and energized it.  The display’s backlighting could be turned up quite a ways, making it an effective light source.  The boys descended the debris-covered steps, gingerly picking their way down into the dark opening.  As soon as their eyes adjusted, they realized their endeavor was moot.

The underground chamber was long and narrow.  There were wooden shelves along both sides of the room that went to the ceiling.  Wooden tables, most with their legs broken, were in a heap against the far wall.  Piles of unidentifiable objects lay all around the broken tables.  The number of small and large objects looked to be in the dozens.  A thick film of reddish dried scum and dirt, smelling of decayed fungus and algae, lay on every surface.  Five distinct chalky waterlines were on the walls.  It was obvious what had happened.  Whatever had remained in this room had been washed back by a deluge.  The ravine that led down into this room from the entrance testified to that.  The room may have been filled for days, even weeks, until the water putrefied.  Later, it had obviously drained away, perhaps slowly.  Ithos’s darkness-loving biota had thrived in the fetid water, covering and ruining whatever had been here.  Who knew if any of these items had once been a med scanner.  Trenekis kicked the nearest object, angered that they had come far too late to salvage anything.

Keenam didn’t have to read minds to know how Trenekis felt.  He carefully picked up an unidentifiable lump encrusted with dried organic matter.  He looked at it briefly before tossing it aside.  “We don’t know if anything was salvageable anyway, Tren,” he said.  “Let’s go.”  With that, he took Tren’s arm and tugged.  Tren shook his arm loose.  He wanted to stew.  Anger made him feel like he had at least tried.

Keenam walked back up the steps into bright sunlight.  He didn’t need to say anything.  He just had to wait for Tren to come back up.  He, too, was angry the underground cache had nothing worth retrieving, but what could he do about it?  Who knew how long ago the rusted water cistern had emptied into it.  Who knew what had remained down there.  It was totally irrelevant.  He wished he could just tell Tren that and get moving, but Keenam was all too aware that Tren had to wallow in his feelings until he was good and done.

A few minutes later Tren came up, shading his eyes.  He stopped his ascent when he got to the surface, took the vidpad from Keenam and sat on the top step.  He snapped a picture of the entrance.  Keenam thought it a strange thing to take a picture of.

Tren felt like he’d been stabbed in the heart.  The cache had been picked nearly clean by his people before fleeing the city and hurrying southward so long ago.  Now there was nothing but nasty-smelling dried crust on everything.  The photo he had taken reflected how he felt – a large black hole with nothing worth anything inside.

Keenam squatted down on his haunches behind Tren and placed his hands on Tren’s shoulders.  “We know there was a clinic, too,” he said.  “We can find it.  We have to find it.”

Tren drew in a long breath, put the vidpad back into his shoulder bag, and nodded.  He grasped Keenam’s wrist and squeezed once.

Keenam nodded to himself.  Good.  Tren was back with him.  He helped the boy up and they returned to the street.  Once there, Tren took the monocular and scanned the buildings up ahead.  “There,” he said as he lowered them.  “It says ‘Sanc-something’ above the door.”

“Sanc-something?”

“I can’t read the whole word from here, but it’s worth a try.  The building looks important.”

Keenam shrugged.  “Okay, let’s go there next.”  He was ready to pick up their pace.

Chapter 17

The humidity must be higher today, Niko thought as he scanned the plaza.  It made him want to shed some of his clothing, but protocol was protocol.  Nothing was coming off, least of which was any article of his safe suit.

“Savaidras, you’re in charge,” the commander told him.

“Yes, sir,” Niko said.  He had more time-in-grade than Unell by two weeks, so that made him the leader.  Niko gestured to the team and they headed toward the building.

*

It had taken twenty minutes for the nine elders to reach the edge of the open plaza.  Everyone had stayed to the sides of the street, dashing from building to building in fits and starts as they moved ahead.  Finally, within only a few dozen meters of the central plaza they saw the shuttle.  They saw only two people nearby; both were pacing around the craft.

Just as Jonen and his men got into position, movement up ahead drew their attention to five others walking up the wide steps of the large building at the north end of the plaza.  At Jonen’s signal, everyone retreated to one of the buildings to their right.  The roof was still intact on this one, albeit only barely, since one corner had long since slumped downward.  They gathered together in a central room.  Deteriorated furniture was neatly arranged around a low table, seemingly awaiting guests.  It looked like the living room of someone’s home.

Jonen drew the men close and whispered.  “Urey and I will take those two by the craft.  The rest of you surround the building they’re headed to and take out the rest of them.  As we agreed, a captive will be useful if you don’t kill them all.  It’ll be seven against five.  The odds favor you since they don’t know we’re here.  If you pick them off quietly they’ll have no idea what’s going on and won’t know to shoot back until it’s too late.”

*

A sign above the double doors said ‘Sanctuary’.  A shiver went up Tren’s back.  What had he named his mesa above Ladder Canyon?  Had he heard that name long ago?  Had it lain dormant in his subconscious only to be brought to the surface when it was time?  Maybe it was a simple coincidence.

The building’s facade was the most ornate of the nearby buildings, telling him and Keenam it was important.  As far as Trenekis was concerned, the name alone was important enough.

The doors were wedged shut and impossible to open.  Nonetheless, Trenekis was determined.  The large picture window next to the door was severely damaged.  They looked inside the dark interior through a gaping hole in the glass pane.  In the center of the building was a large atrium-like opening.  Sunlight flooded down onto the floor.  The roof looked intact, so Tren surmised that it hadn’t collapsed where he saw sunlight ahead, but rather it had been designed in such a way to allow light in.  “Help me up,” he told Keenam.

Keenam laced his fingers together.  Trenekis stepped onto his palms and Keenam pulled upward, helping Trenekis hoist himself onto the outside window ledge.  He carefully avoided jagged glass shards as he pulled himself through the opening, then jumped down to the floor.  His eyes adjusted to the dim surroundings as he went to the front doors.  He pushed several chairs away, then pulled one of the doors open.  It yielded with a screech and a billow of dust.

Keenam entered what appeared to be a reception area.  It was as wide as the building but not very deep.  Three sets of entryways led to the interior.

They headed toward the atrium where they observed row upon row of benches.  What was this place, Tren wondered. In the center of the spacious room, a round skylight let in an oval of sunlight.  Although metal beams had framed it, the glass it once held was all over the floor.

Ahead of them was a block of reddish granite.  On top of it stood a brown metal, larger-than-life sized statue of a man.  “Who do you suppose that is?”  Trenekis asked.  The man was clothed in flowing robes, looking upward at the object in his outstretched hand – a fifteen centimeter diameter globe.  It was a dull red color and, mysteriously, seemed to glow, but Trenekis knew it was just the play of light on its lustrous surface.

Glass crunched underfoot as they made their way toward the statue.  There was a plaque at its base.  Finally, they were close enough to make out words on it.  Tren’s mouth dropped open as he read aloud.  ‘Path Holder Sanctuary.  Founder, Arasen Vatch’.  Below that was a half-meter square holo of a group of people.  Their names were below each of the figures.  Arasen’s wife Hyla.  There were two boys.  Jonen.  Maros.  Jonen was clearly older since he was standing next to his mother.  Tiny Maros was in Hyla’s arms.

Keenam looked at the holo then back at Trenekis.  “Did Counselor Brem tell you about Jonen?”

Tren was aghast.  “Not a word!”  What else had everyone hidden from him?  Clearly, the boy was alive when Tren was an infant.  Had he too died in the disaster that befell the city?  If so, is that why no one told him?

The look on Tren’s face told Keenam everything he needed to know.  “I’m sorry,” Keenam told him.  “We’re getting out of here as soon as we find a map, if there is one.  Don’t start brooding about this.”

Trenekis sighed and looked away.

Keenam took Tren’s shoulders.  “Look, you can ask your questions after we get back.  So, stop thinking about it.  Now,” he said forcefully.

Trenekis drew in a deep breath, exhaled noisily, and nodded.

Keenam let go.

It was a lot to absorb in just a few short days.  As much as Tren was given to dwell on things, often far longer than necessary, he slowly but surely pushed this news aside.  There were more important things to address.  They were six days from Hiera.  The longer they took looking for something to bring back, the less chance they had to help the counselor.

“Give me the vidpad,” Keenam told Tren.

“Why?”

“I’m going to take a few pictures of the statue.  That way you can show your parents.”

“You think they don’t know about it?”

“Just give it to me.”

Tren opened his bag and handed it to him.  Keenam took a few shots from several angles.  The boys separated, looking for anything that might provide a clue to how the city was laid out.  The city was a kilometer across, with dozens and dozens of large and small structures.  They certainly weren’t going to search each and every building to look for a medical facility.

Keenam stuffed the vidpad into his bag.  He knelt down to examine a pile of papers.  “Hey, over here.  I think I found something.”

Trenekis went to him.  Keenam had a curled up poster in his hands.  The first two portions had broken off as he had attempted to unfurl it.  The rest of it continued to break off as he finished.  Finally, it was in eight concave pieces.  They placed them on the dusty floor to view them in order.  In the center of the poster was the following: ‘Clinic Open Daily at the Administrative Center.’

“Look,” Keenam said as he pointed.

“Where’s the Administrative Center?” Trenekis asked.

Keenam pointed to the diagram of the plaza at the north end of town.  “Here, and the clinic’s on the first floor.”  He went to one of the dust-streaked windows, eyeing the length of the road.  “I think all we have to do is follow the same road we were on.”

“Let’s go,” Trenekis said.  We’ve been here for only a few minutes and already we’ve found the location of the clinic.  There’s got to be something there we can bring back, he thought.

The boys took to the center of the street again.  Barely thirty seconds later and several blocks in the direction they were headed, came a loud roar, then a rumble accompanied by a huge billow of dark dust that vaulted into the air.  The dust rose higher than the rooftops and started drifting eastward.  The boys stopped, sure it was a quake.  But as they observed their surroundings, they noted right away that the street wasn’t shaking.  It was only coming from up ahead of them.  They could rule out a quake.  Neither said a word, almost too scared to move.  There – another sound.  It was artificial, yet similar to thunderclaps.  They instinctively pressed themselves against the wall of one of the nearby buildings.  A moment later, they heard shouts echoing from the direction of the loud roar.  It was impossible to tell how many voices there were but Trenekis distinctly heard at least two separate ones.  Now the sounds came fast.  High-pitched whizzing.  Volleys of two and three here and there.  Trenekis was vaguely aware it might be weapons fire.

“What is going on?” Tren’s terrified voice asked.

Keenam shook his head, equally frightened.  Then the noises stopped.  They waited another minute.  “We should find out what happened,” Keenam said.

Tren grabbed Keenam’s forearm.  “Are you crazy?”  The slow steady light he had seen that went across the night sky several nights back, crossed his mind.  A shiver went up his back.  There’s no way, he thought.  If someone’s here from the stars, why are they shooting up the place?  “What if it’s Path Holders?” he suggested.

“Why would they be shooting up the city?”

“Don’t ask me.”

“That’s why we have to find out.”

“That’s the stupidest thing you’ve ever said,” Tren told him.

“How else are we going to find out what’s going on if we don’t at least look?”

“There was an explosion,” Tren told him decisively.

“Way up ahead,” Keenam countered.

“I’m not going.”

“Why not?”

“I have no intention of heading toward obvious danger.”

“I’m going anyway.”

Tren sighed.  He knew Keenam only too well.  He looked out toward the street.  “Ten minutes,” he offered.

“What if it takes me longer?”

Tren shook his head.  “Twenty, then.  No more.”

Almost immediately, Keenam headed away.

Trenekis was sure it was a bad idea.  Yet, if they were ever going to get to the clinic, they would have to find out what just happened.  It would be a travesty if the clinic had been in the building that came down.  Just the same, he was glad Keenam was doing the investigating and not himself.

Five minutes passed before Tren considered following Keenam after all, but he was already completely out of sight.  Damn it, Tren thought.

*

Jonen peered through the nearly opaque window of the building he and Urey were hiding in.  From this vantage, they could see that the back end of the silver and white shuttle was open.  A short ramp led to the ground.  The craft stood on struts and was high enough off the ground for them to see the legs of two men on the far side.  Jonen removed the weapon from his holster and flicked the safety catch.  He glanced down ever so briefly at the tiny light on the grip.  It flickered from green to red, then almost as quickly jumped to yellow.  He was horrified.  He knew enough about the weapon to know that it was no longer fully charged.  In fact, there was a good possibility it wouldn’t fire at all.  Whenever the light had shown yellow on any of the others, the weapon wouldn’t discharge properly.  Yet, this was impossible.  The light had shown green before they left Kelesat.  Regardless, it meant he no longer had the upper hand.  He was sweating from the adrenaline that had been with him since they arrived, and now because matters had just changed.  He looked to this right.  Elder Urey was peering out another window.  Jonen whispered his name.

“What,” Urey whispered back.

Jonen motioned for Urey to come toward him.  He pointed to the yellow light on the weapon once Urey got there.  “The power supply’s nearly empty.  Follow me.  I’ll have to rely on you if the weapon won’t work.”

Urey grinned.  Jonen was always in the limelight.  Not this time.  He might be in the limelight instead.  He was one of the best bowmen in the village.  Jonen knew that.  That’s why he was on this mission.  Urey took the bow from his shoulder, then took an arrow from the quiver and followed Jonen out the door.

The two elders dashed toward the short wall that ringed the plaza, then crawled on hands and knees to position themselves.  They stopped once they were only a few meters behind the shuttle.  Jonen slowly raised his head and peeked.  Where were the two uniformed men?  Jonen scooted over until he could see directly inside the back end of the shuttle.  Damn it!  Both were inside the craft.  The situation was going from bad to worse, but he couldn’t wait for them to come back out.  Urey was several meters to his left.  Jonen motioned for him to come toward his position, then pointed at the shuttle.  One of the men was at the front of the craft facing the front.  Jonen could tell that the man was doing something at the broad flat surface he was seated behind.  The other one came into full view near the back opening.  Arita had removed his helmet and was peering out toward his left.  Jonen finally had a good look at his face.  He slowly placed the barrel of the weapon on top of the wall, steadied it with both hands then rested his knees on the ground.  He didn’t anticipate the sharp stone digging into his kneecap.  He suppressed a grunt as he moved his leg.  Not skilled at the proper use of the weapon, he accidentally pressed the trigger.  Jonen couldn’t believe how stupid he was.  He was aiming, but he was sure he missed his target.  He glanced down at the weapon.  The power indicator light had turned red.

The energy beam from Jonen’s now-spent weapon ran mere centimeters from Arita’s right shoulder and struck the topmost portion of the component rack behind him.

“What the...?” exclaimed Arita as he whirled around and looked inside the craft.

Almost immediately, the interior lights flickered.  A sizzling sound and a loud pop followed.  Acrid black smoke started billowing from the rack.  Arita immediately turned back around in an attempt to see where the beam had come from.  As he turned, Urey was already standing with an arrow at the ready.  He released it.  It cleanly pierced the side of Arita’s neck.

Commander Hittan reached down at the helm to move one of the readouts on the console surface.  The loud noise of weapons fire in the craft startled him, causing him to reflexively stand up.  He only had time to see smoke coming from the rack at Arita’s left when an arrow sailed into the interior.  It had slowed only slightly after it struck the shipmaster’s neck, flew only centimeters from Hittan’s right arm, then hit the front deflection shield.  It landed with a considerable clatter onto the control panel.  Hittan dove into the co-pilot’s seat.  The arrow splattered blood everywhere.

Arita’s hand went to this neck as he stumbled backward and fell onto his side.  Blood oozed from between his fingers.  The commander managed to extract himself out of the seat and look out the back end of the shuttle just in time to see a long-haired man turn tail and run away just beyond the low brick wall behind the shuttle.  Another man was right at his heels.  The men dashed into the open doorway of the building directly behind them.

The commander nearly stumbled over Arita as he raced to the back end of the shuttle and fired his weapon.  Two shots went into the open dark doorway.  He had no way to know if he hit either man though.  He immediately turned his attention to his bleeding companion.  “Arita!”

Arita’s face was flush.  His eyes looked wild as he pressed his hand on the bloody wound.  “Med kit,” he gasped.

The commander had several things to do in only a few seconds.  First, was to make sure the back of the shuttle was closed.  There were at least two attackers out there.  He had no interest in finding out how many more there were.  He slammed his palm against the emergency close button.  The doors clanged shut despite the fact that the ramp was still down.  Next, he touched the icon on the comm strapped to his wrist and let the survey team know what happened.  He then grabbed the med kit and nearly tore it open.

*

The sign on the wall next to the double doors said ‘Administrative Center’ in plain Stellex.  Niko tentatively pushed one of the doors inward.  It took a few grunts and a lot of force to get it open enough for them to enter.  Crumbled plaster fell onto the floor and his helmet for the effort.  The halls were mostly dark.  Here and there light shone in where doors were open further along.  The long corridor was dusty.  Across the way, a chair lay turned over.  A desiccated plant sat mummified in a large pot next to it.  Nearby, a pole with a badly faded and rotten flag lay on the floor in a heap.  It was impossible to make out its design.  A desk looked like it might have once been manned to receive people coming into the building.  A rectangular basket on top once held flimsies or papers.  A container with writing instruments in it lay next to it.  Everything was under a thick layer of dust.

He gestured to Ezic, Unell and Dr. Sepp to go to the right.  “Fan out,” Niko said.  “Check each of the rooms.”  Niko and Dr. Kem went to the left.

There was enough light from the open front door and the rest of the doors that opened to the corridor to see down its full length.  At the far end of the corridor was a set of large windows that let in light from the back of the building, too.  The men looked in the rooms nearest them.  Each contained metal as well as wooden furniture.  Although everything looked primitive, there were signs that the building had had bits and pieces of technology.  As Niko investigated, he was struck by the odd mix of old and new.  Clearly, the building had had lights and plumbing.  Yet, the furnishings made it look as if they’d decided they’d had enough with anything that resembled modern, or had given up making modern things.  Or had run out.

That’s it, Niko realized.  They probably ran out of pre-made goods and resorted to making crude furnishings out of local materials!  The notion that anyone would deliberately colonize a planet without a manufacturing base struck him as odd, but his musing on that issue was short-lived.

‘We’re under attack.  I say again, we’re under attack!  Take cover and report back as soon as you can,’ Niko heard from his comm.  The commander sounded terrified.

Under attack, by who?  Niko looked at Dr. Kem.  He put a finger to his lips as they drew weapons.  Niko went to the door of the room they were both in and peered out into the corridor.  It was clear.

“Savaidras, where are you guys?”  Unell whispered into his comm.

“We’re in what looks like an office in the left wing,” Niko whispered back.  “Meet you in the main corridor.”

Niko and Dr. Kem stepped out into the corridor.  At that moment, the rest of Jonen’s team reached the back of the administrative building and strategically placed themselves into position.

*

Bow in one hand and quiver in the other, Urey ran with Jonen as they dashed away from the shuttle.  They fled into the nearest building, found a back door and quickly continued on their way.  They heard shots fired.

“Did you strike him?” Jonen asked as they ran.

Urey nodded his head as he sucked in labored breaths.  “In the neck.  I think he’s dead.”

“But the other one shot back.  He knows which way we went,” Jonen said.  “Hurry!”

Chapter 18

The environmental controls had automatically revved up, filling the cabin with fan noise.  Already the acrid smoke and noxious fumes from the damaged components was clearing.

The commander activated a dermal regen pad.  He pressed it against Arita’s neck but it was difficult to keep it there because of the blood.  He knew the regen pad wouldn’t work well unless the skin was dry.  This wasn’t just a minor cut, either.  Further, it wasn’t helping that his co-pilot was thrashing around so much.  He was sure Arita’s jugular or carotid artery hadn’t been hit, otherwise the man would have already passed out or died.  He held his palm against the pad for a few seconds, then tried to get Arita to hold it in place.  Finally, Arita calmed down enough to do so.

With Arita at least somewhat stabilized, Hittan dashed to the captain’s seat, activated the rear cameras and scanned for thermal signatures.  In broad daylight, he wasn’t going to get an accurate reading.  In the little amount of time he had to determine what to aim at, he took a guess and pointed the meteor deflection cannon rearward.  The shuttle had no external tactical weapons.  There had never been a need for any!  He tapped the fire icon.  Two-tenths of a second later the building behind them came down with a tremendous rumble.  A billow of dust rose into the air as it collapsed.

Jonen decided that after they were far enough away from the plaza they would circle around to meet up with the others.  Maybe, Jonen thought, nearly being caught was to their advantage after all.  Attention would be focused away from his men in the administrative building.  The billowing cloud that rose up from the collapse of the building a block back gave them a much needed advantage as well.  Obviously, the man in the craft didn’t know they had gotten away and were no longer nearby.

*

The survey team converged in the middle of the main hallway just as a building behind the shuttle rumbled to the ground.  Dust fell to the floor from the ceiling and walls, making Niko think their building might come down next.  At that moment, a hail of arrows greeted them.  One sailed past them and struck the wall, sinking a good two centimeters into the plaster.  Another struck the wooden floor not more than three centimeters from Ezic’s left foot.  Another hit Dr. Kem’s helmet, knocking him sideways.  Yet another hit Unell near his waist, then fell to the floor.  The material of their safe suits was designed to harden the second any sudden pressure was applied.  Its sensors prevented abrasions, punctures, and could even keep animal bites from causing serious wounds.  Nonetheless, the force of being hit by the arrow made each man emit a grunt.  Unell whirled around and aimed at the fleeting figures at the end of the corridor.  He pulled the trigger and several flashes of light brightened the passageway as energy bolts struck a window.  The panes shattered in a loud rain of glass.  Undaunted, more arrows came at them.

This was insane, Niko thought.  They weren’t trained for a firefight and certainly not against an enemy that refused to show itself.  They were mere explorers.  Their weaponry was for defense against animals!  Nonetheless, he was in charge and would rise to the occasion if it were the last thing he did.  Niko pushed Drs. Kem and Sepp against the wall in an attempt to make them as small a target as possible.  Niko and Unell pointed their weapons down the hallway and fired at the far end.  There, they saw the furtive movements of several people who were aiming bows and arrows at them from doorways.  Several more arrows were fired at the team before they stopped shooting.

Niko took that moment to yank open a door several meters down the corridor.  Plaster came down in chunks around the doorframe.  This one led outside.  Niko peered out.  There was no movement anywhere.  “Everyone, this way,” he told them.

Once outside, Ezic aimed left and Unell to the right.  It was still clear.  Niko turned back toward the hallway and fired several more shots to prevent more arrows from coming their way.  He spoke into his comm.  “Commander, what’s your situation?”

“Arita’s down and the ship’s been damaged.”

“What the hell happened?”

“We were attacked by two men.  They fled into the buildings behind the shuttle.  I used the meteor deflection cannon to blast ‘em.  It looks safe to get back here.  Arita’s lost a lot of blood.  I’ve got a regen pad on the wound but it’s not gonna hold.  I need to get him to Dr. Heskid.”

“There must be plenty more of them because we’ve been shot at, too.  They’ve withdrawn for now.  Heading back to the shuttle.”  This was Niko’s strength.  Making decisions in a split second was at the top of his list.  Making hasty decisions had been his calling card for most of his life, it seemed, but this was different.  This was a clear and present danger and he was in charge.

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” Niko quickly told them.  “You’re going to the shuttle.  I’ll stay and cover you.”

“I don’t think so,” Ezic replied.  “You’re coming with us.”

Niko shook his head.  “No.  I’ll draw their fire if they start shooting.”

Dr. Sepp spoke up.  “We should consider negotiating with them.”

Ezic was quick with his response.  “What?  They’re trying to kill us!”

“We’re the interlopers.  They probably live here,” she shot back.

“Look Dr. Sepp,” Niko told her.  “They’re clearly not in the mood to talk.  It’s best to get back to the shuttle and talk later.  According to the commander, Arita might die.”

“This makes no sense,” she said.

“No, it doesn’t.  That’s why our job right now is to make sure everyone stays alive.”

Dr. Kem spoke up.  “He’s right.  Now’s not the time to talk.”

Niko looked at Ezic, who vigorously nodded.  “Get to the shuttle,” he told them.  Niko then spoke into his comm, “Commander, can you see us?”

“Affirmative.”

“Do you see anyone else?”  Niko knew his team was between the attackers and the shuttle.  That gave his people an advantage.  They could at least try to make it to the shuttle without having to go through a bunch of arrows.

“It’s still clear.”

“Go.  Now!” Niko told them.  He immediately turned back into the building, looking for the attackers.  He proceeded down the main corridor to the one leading to the back of the building.  His senses heightened, he ventured into one of the rooms.  It had one large broken window, which faced toward the rear of the building.  He speculated this might have been how their attackers entered the building.  None of them were here now.  He could have kicked himself anyway.  Heading this way was a tactical error.  He shouldn’t have gotten out of visual range of his people, who were now scurrying across the dusty plaza toward the shuttle.  This whole episode was simply outside his frame of reference, training or no training.  He was a survey guard, not a soldier!  The whole meaning of ‘guard’ suddenly struck him as a joke.  Training camp prepared surveyors for physical exertion, added loads of important training and the ordinary use of weapons.  No one was trained to defend positions against enemies.

Mere seconds later, Niko headed back.  Outside, he heard Ezic call for everyone to hurry up.  He peered out the partially opened door.  Already the survey team was climbing aboard the shuttle.  Now Niko could see their attackers, too.  “Oh, shit,” he said under his breath.  Off to his left long-haired men in what looked like martial arts training uniforms were taking positions as close as they could to the shuttle without being seen.  They were coming to a rest now, kneeling at various vantage points, with their bows and arrows at the ready.  He dared not call attention to himself now.  Those men were dangerously close to his vantage and he was too far from the shuttle to make a dash for it.  He would be able to take out only so many of them before being caught or killed.  He might have a superior weapon, but he couldn’t take them all on at once.  They were too scattered apart from each other.  If he started shooting now, he would be their target.  Despite their crude weapons, he was thoroughly outnumbered.  If he had left with the others, he could have been on board with them.  But no, he had decided it was best to cover them.  Mysteriously, the heightened sense of danger that accompanied his blunder focused his attention like never before.  Quietly, he withdrew into the building and raised the commander.

“Savaidras, where are you?”  the commander demanded.  Niko immediately lowered the volume.

“I’m inside the building.  Did you see the guys that attacked us?”

“I did.  The building might come down around you if I try to take them out with the cannon.”

“Then don’t,” Niko told him.  He involuntarily looked up at the seriously cracked ceiling.  The situation was quickly deteriorating.  He had to think fast.  “What about Arita?”

“I’ve got to get him back to the ship.  And I can’t wait around all day for those cavemen to withdraw.”

“See if you can draw them toward you.  I think they don’t know I’m here.  I’m right behind them and none of them are looking this way.  Stay low and back off slowly.”  That was only partially accurate.  A few seconds ago he knew everyone’s positions.  As he peered out again, two of the men had moved and were now sufficiently hidden for him to not know where they were.

“I’m not going into orbit without you, Savaidras.  You have to get back here now.”

“Just do it,” Niko told him, not quite sure his plan would work.  As far as he was concerned, he was safe for now.  Those he had been in charge of were safe, too.  Arita, on the other hand, was not.  He wasn’t at all sure of the extent of Arita’s wounds, but Niko was sure he could fend for himself for a few hours as long as he stayed hidden.

It was near chaos inside the shuttle as Hittan nudged the craft upward.  Arita’s blood was everywhere and he had just passed out.  The blast to the component rack was causing random havoc with the shuttle’s command systems.  The craft had risen only three meters when a stabilizer warning sounded.  That explained the problem the commander had with the controls.  The shuttle kept trying to roll to port.  The inertial dampeners wouldn’t switch on until the shuttle was sufficiently outside the planet’s grav field, so he had to rely on manual attitude control.  He thought he might be able to lock the meteor deflection cannon on a target if he needed to, but he couldn’t guarantee it would fire again.  Its display refused to stay online.  Worse was that the environmental controls were only partially operative now.  He had to make a command decision before he lost guidance control and was unable to establish an orbit.  “Savaidras, how long can you hold out?” he said into the comm.

Niko saw the shuttle making odd motions as it lifted up.  “I have water and a few food bars.  It looks like their attention is solely on the shuttle.  I’m sure they have no clue I’m here.”

“Good, because I have system malfunctions everywhere.  I have to get into orbit before the guidance computer fails.  I’m gonna get an ass-chewing for leaving you, but I can’t help it.”

“Just go,” Niko told him confidently, though his heartbeat rose to just below light speed.  This was far outside normal procedure and could easily get him kicked right out of the survey service.  That is, if he wasn’t killed first.

The elders rushed across the plaza as the shuttle pulled back, turned around and headed away from the city.  Niko could tell there was something wrong with it for sure now.  It wasn’t accelerating properly and he heard an odd noise.  The shuttle didn’t normally make enough noise to be heard at this distance.  Three of the elders stopped, aimed arrows at the shuttle, and fired.  No one even came close to hitting it.  The men joined together, then continued to run to some location he couldn’t quite see from his vantage.  At least all of them had left.  He was safe for now.

The silence of the dead administrative building weighed on him.  He heard nothing but his own rapid breathing and his heart, which threatened to beat right out of his chest, as he stood looking out the window.  He was going nowhere until the shuttle returned.  Damn it, Niko thought.  This was not what he had planned for his day.

*

Keenam looked up.  Vectoring away from the city at a pretty fast clip just above the tops of the low buildings up ahead was a craft of some sort.  Is that the ship Tren saw, he wondered.  Maybe they had come down, done some looking around and blasted one of the precariously standing buildings.  But why?  For sport?  There was no way to know.

He didn’t have much time to wonder much more about it.  He heard a noise behind him.  Before he could turn to see what it was, everything went black.

*

At least once every minute for the last five, Trenekis had peered out from behind the door.  He had deliberately kept himself well-hidden while Keenam was gone.  Keenam was late.  The noise of the explosion and the other odd sounds had ceased twenty-five minutes ago.  On the other hand, he had heard shouting only a minute ago.  Multiple voices.  The spectacularly quiet city echoed them all over the place.  Whose voices were they?  He could only think they might be Path Holders. Now there was nothing except the breezes that blew every once in a while.  The city seemed to have returned to its previous ghost-like state.  Whatever had happened appeared to be over now.

None of it made any sense.  Trenekis had already been agitated that Keenam took off.  Now he was outright scared that Keenam hadn’t come back.  At this point, inaction was not an option.  If something had happened to Keenam, he had to find out.  Tren had no choice now.  He had to head toward danger.

Not wanting to be discovered by the wrong people, he didn’t dare shout out.  Instead, he kept to the shadows, listening intently for sounds.  Several minutes later, he came across a collapsed building.  Was this the one that just fell?  What looked like fresh layer of dust seemed to be just about everywhere nearby, so he figured it must have just come down.  Several meters ahead was a low wall surrounding a plaza.  Making sure he couldn’t be seen easily seen, he couched by the corner of an intact building and peered out over the plaza.  What was that noise?  It sounded like voices again, but coming from where?  He crept on all fours and approached the wall that went around the plaza, still listening for any sounds.  He looked behind himself then inside a nearby open doorway.  No movement.  No Keenam.

Nearly panicked now, he raised his head up and scanned the empty plaza.  That sign on the building at the opposite side of the plaza said Administrative Center.  That’s where the clinic is, he thought.  Maybe Keenam had heard the voices too and had holed up inside the building.  Maybe he was still there.  At least Tren hoped so.

With a certain trepidation still with him, yet still not having seen a flicker of movement from anything unusual, he picked a course around the edge of the plaza behind the low wall.  Finally, minutes later, he came upon another one of the multiple openings in the wall, went through it, dashed across the open area and ducked into an opened side door of the building.

There was enough sunlight streaming in for him to see that the floor had been recently scuffled.  There were multiple footprints in the dust.  What was that up ahead?  An arrow!  Tren went to it, picked it up and examined it.  It looked brand new.  It was slightly darker further in, but not so dark as to prevent him from seeing the rest of the arrows.  It must be Path Holders, he thought as he dropped the arrow.  At least he saw no blood anywhere.  He stayed perfectly still for several minutes, listening, hoping to hear Keenam stirring in the quiet building.

He could no longer stay quiet.  “Keenam,” he said in loud whisper.

*

It had been nearly fifteen minutes since the attackers left the plaza in a rush to some unknown location.  Niko had quietly retreated up the central staircase to a second floor room.  The room looked like it had been a decently furnished office at one time.  The fabric covering the larger pieces of furniture had mostly disintegrated though, and everything was covered in a thick layer of dust.  An empty wooden crate sat next to a window overlooking the plaza.  A wooden chair rested against it.  He tentatively sat.  It held his weight.  He unbuckled his helmet’s chinstrap then placed it and his weapon down on the crate.  He unsnapped the flaps on two pouches of his safe suit, pulled out wrapped concentrated food bars, and set them on the crate, too.  He sloshed his canteen around.  It was nearly full.  He didn’t notice any fresh water sources nearby, so he had to be careful.  Nonetheless, he took little sips after finishing off one of the bars.

He peered out the window every once in a while, looking for movement.  So far, nothing.  The town appeared deserted once again.  It was sort of unnerving.

The call from his comm, even at its current low volume, startled him.  “Savaidras, this is Cloud Hopper,” Commander Hittan said.

“Savaidras here,” he whispered.

“Rendezvousing with the ship in fifty-eight minutes.  We’re on emergency life support for the duration.  Doesn’t look good for the shuttle.”  He quickly explained how they sustained the damage.  “Maintenance has been notified.  Will advise once KAI can assess and the crew can make repairs.  What’s your situation?”

“Those people took off.  I’ve not seen a single one of them, or anyone else for that matter, since you took off.  I can’t imagine how they’re using this ghost town as a base of operation though.  Tell Dr. Beld to focus inside, say, a thirty kilometer radius of the town.  I’m thinking they saw us and came to investigate.”

“Roger.  In the meantime, it might be a very long day.”

Those food bars were going to have to be his meals for the duration after all.  Damn it, he thought.  “How’s Arita?”

“The vitals scanner says he’s stable but he doesn’t look good.  I hope we can get him back in time...”

Niko cut him off.  “Just get him taken care of.  Out.”  Niko swirled some more water around in his mouth.  That’s when he found himself suddenly quite tired.  He took one more glance out the window then leaned back in the chair as he sighed.  He didn’t see Trenekis sneak up along the side of the building and duck inside.

*

Tren called Keenam’s name again, listening intently for a response that didn’t come.  Regardless, it was worth checking for clues to his whereabouts.  If he found nothing, he’d look elsewhere.  He quietly made his way down the hallway, still listening.  There was a moment when he thought he heard whispering again, but the nearby breezes quickly drowned it.

Nearly right away, he came across a door with a single word stenciled on it: Clinic.  The door was open.  Quickly, he ducked into the room.  It was nearly empty except for a dozen dust-covered metal chairs.  Oddly, they were haphazardly piled up near the center of the room.  The layer of dust on the floor didn’t look scuffed.  No one had been in here for a very long time.  Trenekis looked around.  If this was a clinic, it was devoid of anything that looked useable.  He then realized this was just a waiting room.  There were two doors further on.  He headed toward one of them.  A window to this right let in a little light but a large portion of the room was in shadow.  As he got closer to the door, his foot caught the edge of one of the chairs.  The heap moved, which sent several of them to the floor with a loud clatter.  Trenekis stood motionless for several seconds before realizing the noise had been fleeting at best.

The door to the room was mostly open.  He stuck his head in.  This was definitely a doctor’s office!  There was a table in the middle of the room where people could stretch out.  Counters with cabinets above and below were along three of the four walls.  There were all sorts of things on the counters – containers, unidentifiable paper objects, small instruments.  Everything was under a thick layer of dust.  As he scanned the potential bounty, it became evident within seconds that the cabinets, all of which were open, had nothing of value in them.  There were no scuff marks on the dirty countertops.  Whoever had raided this room had done so a very long time ago.  There was no reason to stay here any longer.  Crestfallen, he hoped the next room might hold something useful.  He exited quietly, crossed the waiting room and avoided the chairs.

*

Niko had been in a reverie, having very nearly fallen asleep, when he heard the sound.  Something on the first floor had fallen with a loud clatter.  Instantly, he was on high alert.  He chastised himself for not paying better attention, but the deafening silence had lulled him into dropping his guard.  He quickly pulled out his weapon and checked the charge.  He made sure his helmet was properly fastened then slowly crept out of the room toward the stairs.  The floor was covered with common grouted tiles.  Luckily, most weren’t broken and the substrate didn’t squeak.

Niko had gotten to the bottom of the stairs without so much as making a sound.  That’s when he heard something off to his right.  It sounded like hinges creaking.  Was it caused by the wind?  No.  It was perfectly calm outside.  At least right now it was.  With his weapon in front of him and both hands clasping the butt, he carefully headed toward the room.  The door was wide open.  He entered and saw a jumbled pile of chairs in the center of the room.  There were two doors at the opposite wall.  Both of them were open.  A noise was coming from the room to the left.  Someone was in there.  Niko aimed and waited.

*

Trenekis was supremely frustrated.  First, he had no idea where Keenam was and, with both clinic rooms devoid of so much as a bandage, he had a sinking feeling to add to that.  He had been here for only a few minutes.  It was time to turn his attention to finding Keenam.  He turned to leave the room.  The black clad figure across the room in the shadows startled him.

“Don’t move,” Niko commanded.  “Raise your hands up.”  Good, he thought.  No bow and arrow.

Trenekis couldn’t speak.  He tried, but nothing came out of his mouth.  He was so terrified by the bizarre-looking silhouette that he froze.  He could do nothing more than look at the imposing figure, with armored plating seemingly all over him, the boots, the helmet and the weapon pointed right at him.  He couldn’t see the man’s face.  There was too much shadow.

“I said hands up!”

Trenekis dropped his bag and raised his hands.

“Higher,” Niko told him.  Tren obeyed.

Trenekis had never been so scared.  He had no idea Path Holders looked this terrifying.

“I won’t hesitate to kill you if you even try to get away.  Who are you?” Niko demanded.

Trenekis managed to calm himself enough to speak.  “Tr-trenekis.  M-my name’s Trenekis.”

“Why did you attack my people?”

Trenekis shook his head.  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Where are the others?” Niko demanded.

“What others?  I was looking for my friend.”

“Where did they go?”  Niko demanded.

Trenekis shook his head again.  “Look, mister.  I don’t know what you’re talking about.  I’m looking for Keenam.  We’ll leave as soon as we can.”

“Who’s Keenam?”

“My friend,” Trenekis emphasized.

“Who else is in there?” Niko asked, waving his side arm.

“N-no one.”

“Come out here.  Slowly!”  Niko moved from the doorway into the waiting room, avoiding the jumble of chairs, keeping his weapon pointed at Trenekis.  “Over here where I can see you.”

Trenekis moved slowly, sure that his knees would buckle from fright.  He carefully moved out into the open.

Niko quickly ducked into the room.  A quick scan told him it was empty.  They were indeed the only two people here.  He picked up Tren’s bag.

“What were you doing in here,” Niko asked him.

“Looking.”

“For what?”

“Tek.”

“Tek?”

“Who are you?” Trenekis ventured to ask.

“Savaidras.”

“Are you from Kelesat?”  Tren had to know.

“Kelesat?”

“The village.”

“I’ll ask the questions.”  Niko saw the knife sheath tied around Tren’s waist.  It was obvious what it was even in this bad lighting.  “Drop the knife straight down.”

Tren slowly lowered one hand, pulled the knife out and dropped it.  It landed with a dull thud.

“Kick it over here.”

Tren kicked it across the floor.

Niko quickly retrieved it, never taking his eyes off Trenekis.

“What did you do with Keenam?”  Trenekis implored.

“I don’t know anything about your friend,” Niko said as he took the knife in hand.  It had plenty of heft, he noted, and appeared to be of extremely fine craftsmanship.

“Please, Savaidras.  We’ll leave if you let him go.”  Trenekis was sure Niko was lying.

“I told you I don’t know anything about him.”

“He’s from my village.  I swear we were just looking around.  Please don’t hurt him.”

There’s more than one village, Niko realized.  “Move over into the light,” he said.                          Tren moved to the window.  Niko finally got a good look at his quarry.  What he saw nearly left him breathless.

Chapter 19

The boys had left most of their belongings on the xoss beasts, including their bows and arrows.  They hadn’t planned to do any hunting within the city. They weren’t expecting any danger.  Tren knew now that their decision to leave them had been a huge mistake.

Niko quickly looked inside Tren’s bag, then shouldered it.  “That way,” Niko told him.  He waved his sidearm and made Trenekis go ahead of him.

“W-where are we going?”  Tren asked.

“Upstairs.  Exit and go right.  Don’t forget I have a weapon.”  Niko was having a difficult time pretending he was a hard ass.  It certainly wasn’t his normal personality, but he had to put on a show of force to make sure the kid knew who was in charge.  Regardless, it was becoming difficult to continue his charade now that he saw how incredibly good-looking Trenekis was.

Trenekis complied, trying desperately to figure out who this Savaidras person was.  There was no way he was a Path Holder.  They didn’t have weapons like that.  How did they have material to dress like that?  “Where are you from?” Trenekis asked again.

“No talking,” Niko told him.  He didn’t want to bring any attention to either of them in case those crazies were in earshot.  They ascended the stairs.

Trenekis was sure he was going to die, killed by this terrifying person behind him, never even getting a good look at the face of his assailant.  Yet he continued on, up the stairs, his arms still raised up.

Niko couldn’t help himself.  He took in every detail.  He figured Trenekis was slightly younger than himself.  It was all he could do to keep his concentration around this obvious native boy, too.  He had always been a sucker for good looks.  Now was no exception.  He noted all the details of the boy’s clothing.  The drab-colored yet shiny material reminded him of eel skin.  The soft-skinned trousers Tren wore were perfectly molded to his ample rounded butt.  He was wearing no obvious underwear either.  That was easy to discern since they were riding up the crack of his ass.  The trousers had been fashioned by hand.  The leather stitching went along the outside edge of the legs all the way up to the waistband.  Niko found them incredibly sexy.  The boy’s thighs were thick, his calves strong and muscular.  Niko realized he shouldn’t have made Tren raise his arms up.  The sleeveless shirt, unbuttoned in front, barely covered Tren’s lower torso, revealing his slim waist and the downy fur that traveled up from his rear end.  Niko chided himself as he peeled his eyes from Tren’s ass.  He’d probably try to kill you if given half a chance.  “Inside that room,” he told Tren.  “Hands on your head and down on your knees.  Now!”

Trenekis could do nothing more than comply.  He was already terrified and now was apparently going to be humiliated as well.  What an undignified way to die!  In an old abandoned building, for no apparent reason, and where no one would ever find his body.  The thought nearly made him choke.

With his sidearm still aimed at Tren, Niko unsnapped his helmet chinstrap with the other hand.  He pulled it off.

Trenekis let out an audible gasp.  This was his first good look at Niko.  What he saw was impossible.  The dark perfectly cut hair.  The liquid brown eyes.  Those thick black eyebrows.  That perfectly proportioned nose. The full lips.  A square jaw.  A face handsome beyond words.  At least if he was to be killed it wasn’t someone ugly who had done so.

But Trenekis could tell that wasn’t going to happen.  He knew it now.  The man’s body language told him that.  There was something in Savaidras’s eyes he couldn’t place, yet seemed totally familiar.  It left him puzzled.

“Who are you people?” Niko asked again.  This time his question didn’t have the hard edge it had before.

“We’re only looking for tek.  I swear it,” Tren replied.

“What about those men who attacked us?”

Tren shook his head.  “We heard an explosion and waited until everything went quiet.”  Path Holders?  Are they here?  Isn’t this man one of them?  So many questions.

“Who is this Tek you keep talking about?” Niko asked.

“We came back to see if any of it was left.”

“Technology,” Niko realized.

Tren nodded.

“You said you’re from a village.”

“The city was abandoned.”  Doesn’t he know that?

“The quake....” Niko had to unlock his eyes from Tren’s.  The boy’s steady gaze was digging into his very soul.  No surprise, Niko thought.  The boy looked positively terrified.

Tren nodded vigorously.  “That’s when everyone left.”

“But you came back for... tek.”  Niko prompted, trying to discern what Tren was really up to.

“Our med scanners don’t work anymore.  I was looking for something that might still be here to help my… uncle.”

“You’re serious.”

“I swear it.  We were just looking around.  I’m sorry, Savaidras.  If this is your building, I didn’t mean any harm.  I didn’t know Path Holders were still here.”

“Path Holders!” Niko immediately tensed up.  His entire demeanor changed.  So, it’s true!  Arasen Vatch’s Path Holders landed here!

“Please don’t kill me,” Tren pleaded.

“What do you know about the Path Holders?”

“Enough,” Tren offered.

“Are you one?”  Niko moved his sidearm.  That slight movement wasn’t lost on Tren.

Trenekis vigorously shook his head.

He could be lying, Niko thought.  There was no way to know for sure yet.  “Where is your village?”  He had a good mind to call the ship as soon as he found out.

Trenekis didn’t dare tell him.  “Days from here.”

“What’s it called?”

Tren refused to say.

“I asked you a question,” Niko added with a hard edge to his voice.

Trenekis winced.  “Hiera.  It’s called Hiera.”

“Well, Trenekis of Hiera.  Sit.  I’m going to get to know you a little better.”

*

Keenam came to and right away realized his hands were securely tied behind his back.  His head pounded.  He figured it must be because he had been knocked out.  He didn’t remember how he got here.  As he stirred, he discovered his feet were bound and he’d been gagged.  He looked down at the sheath on his calf.  His knife was missing.  He tried to spit the gag out, but it was too tight.  He moved his hands, then realized he was tied around a beam at his back.  He was in one of the buildings.  In the room with him were six other men, all wearing two-piece outfits unmistakably made of sefa.  Everyone’s hair was shoulder length or longer and neatly braided in back.

“Jonen,” Pel called out.  “He’s awake.”

Keenam looked at Jonen.  Where had he heard that name before?

Jonen untied the gag.  “Water,” he told Urey.  “Drink,” he told Keenam.  Urey put a canteen up to Keenam’s lips.  He drank deeply, but Jonen shook his head before Keenam could drink his fill.

“Where did your friends go?” Jonen asked.  He was highly suspicious of Keenam already.  How could a man from the sky be wearing drel skin clothing?  He was sure drel lizards only lived on Ithos.  At least he thought so.

Keenam didn’t answer.

“Who are you?”

Keenam ignored him, sure that any minute he was going to be dead anyway.

“Who are you?” Jonen demanded this time.

“Keenam,” was all he decided to offer.

“Keenam what?”

Keenam said nothing.

“Keenam what!”

“Rethla.”

“Rethla,” Jonen repeated.  He was sure he’d heard that name, but when?

The man’s name rang in Keenam’s head.  Jonen… Jonen!  Oh, no!  Suddenly, he knew why the man looked eerily familiar.  He had Tren’s eyes and mouth.  This was impossible!  Not more than a few hours ago he had never even heard the name.  Now a full grown Jonen Vatch stood directly in front of him.  Keenam tried to pull his wrists out of the ropes but they were too tight.  Given that he was completely tied up, he figured he was already considered an enemy.

“How did you get that clothing?” Jonen asked.

Keenam had no idea what that kind of question even meant.  “What?”

“That’s drel skin.  Where did you get it?”

“My mother made it.”

Jonen knitted his brow.  “Where are you from?”

Elder Sab had Keenam’s bag.  While Jonen was interrogating Keenam, he untied the cord from around a large wooden button that held the bag closed.  He flipped the bag upside down onto a dusty tabletop.  The vidpad spilled out with a thump.  He handed it to Jonen.

“Is this yours?” Jonen asked Keenam.

Keenam refused to answer any more questions.  He was doing a very good job being brave up until now, defying this assault on their peaceful venture into what he was sure was a dead city.  But he was beginning to crack.  The fact that he was completely tied up, unmistakably surrounded by Path Holders, and sure he would be killed, was added to by knowing who Jonen was.  What if they already killed Tren, he thought.  Suddenly, he felt sick.

Jonen could tell his imposing demeanor was producing its intended effect.  He tied a blindfold over Keenam’s eyes.  He knew that would make him fearful.  Jonen jutted his chin toward Elder Pel, then toward Keenam.  The elder stuffed the rag back into Keenam’s mouth, then re-tied the gag.

Jonen placed the vidpad on a table.  It was similar to the pristine one that held his father’s Log Book entries.  The main differences were that with this one, the casing was worn in many places and the display screen was scratched.  It had been in use for a very long time.  He turned it over to see if there were any identifying marks.  There were none.  He pressed the on button.  The display instantly came alive.  The very first words across the screen were:  ‘This belongs to Trenekis Idero.  If you find it let me know.’

Idero, Jonen wondered.  I’ve heard that name, too.  “Idero,” Jonen said aloud.  “Who knows that name?”

Keenam’s heart raced even more than before.  They must have activated Tren’s vidpad, he thought.  He realized they had little use for him now.  Everything they needed to know was in it.

*

It was becoming obvious to Niko that Trenekis was harmless.  He’s definitely not a Path Holder, he realized.  “What are you doing here?” Niko asked.

“I already told you.  Keenam and I just got here.  We’re looking for tek.  We heard an explosion and Keenam went to investigate.  Look, you have to let me go.  Keenam’s out there somewhere.”  It was obvious to Trenekis that Niko didn’t know his whereabouts after all.

“That explosion you heard was our shuttle firing back at some Path Holders who attacked it.”

“What’s a shuttle?”

“Our spacecraft.”

“Your-your spacecraft?”  It should have been obvious from the very first second he saw Niko, Trenekis realized, but fright had overwhelmed him, preventing him from thinking clearly.  It was suddenly crystal clear what was going on here.  This man was definitely not from Ithos.  “You-you’re from the sky?”

“You could say that.”

Trenekis stood up, which caused Niko to move his sidearm from his lap.  Trenekis held his hands up, showing Niko he meant nothing by that action.  “I saw it the other night.  You were in it?”

Niko’s eyebrows scrunched together.  “It must be the Farwinds you saw.  That’s the ship that brought us to this star system.”

Tren’s eyes lit up.  “I saw it going across the sky one night when we were on our way here.  We were camped out and I was up on a dune when I saw it.  There’s a story in my village.  No one talks about it much, but I’ve heard it twice.  Someday, someone from my parent’s planet would come for us.”

This was positively amazing, Niko thought.  Apparently, they had accidentally stumbled across at least two remnants of the civilization that once occupied this crumbled town.  Good guys and bad guys?  Did he land in the middle of a turf war?  “I wouldn’t exactly say we’ve come for you.  It was only yesterday that we discovered this town even existed.  What do you know about it?”

“Bots built it.  I was born here but I have no memory of it.  A quake destroyed it before I was one year old.  Everyone left then.  This is the only time I’ve been here since then.”

Niko very nearly slapped his forehead.  This kid knew everything!  Niko had to tell the others.  He tried his comm while Tren looked on.  Nothing.  “Damn it,” Niko said.

“Who are you talking to?”

“The ship you saw.  Look, those Path Holders attacked our survey party.  One of them nearly killed one of the members of my team.  They had to leave in a hurry.  I stayed behind to cover them.  You really didn’t see anything?”

“I was hiding out, waiting for Keenam to get back.  When he didn’t return, I went to find him.”

“Why did they attack us?”

“I don’t know.  They’re fanatics.  That’s why we don’t have contact with them.  They live far from us in a village called Kelesat. They follow a religion called The Path of Perfection.  They worship The Eye.  We call it The Eye, too, but we know it’s just a sun, like Belat and Enyi.”

“Belat and... the names of your suns?”

Tren nodded.

“Damn, everything already has a name,” Niko said somewhat to himself.  He reached into his pack.  “I’m betting your friend’s hiding out, probably waiting for them to leave.  Water?” he asked as he offered the canteen.

Tren had a canteen but didn’t turn down the offer.  He reached for it.                                             There was a moment where their fingers touched.  That moment split once, then again, then one more time while Niko’s subconscious barked at him.  There was something about this Trenekis.  Something about that absolutely radiant unshaven face that was so cute, it threatened to melt him into a puddle.  There was something about Tren’s flawless sun-toasted skin, the thick blond-brown hair with the sun-lightened streaks in it, and the piercing green eyes that had been intently studying him.  That’s when the answer presented itself in rich detail to his conscious.  That piercing gaze was very familiar.  He had never been wrong about it.  Ever.  Niko tilted his head ever so slightly as the answer implored him to speak.  “You’re gay,” Niko said definitively.

“What does that mean?”

Niko shrugged.  “You, uh, like guys.”

Tren’s eyes briefly went to Niko’s crotch, then widened as he coughed out the last swallow of water.

Niko grinned.  He was right!  Damn, he loved these suits.

Tren refused to make eye contact.  He had been discovered out of the blue.  That had never happened before.

“This Keenam, are you and he..., ” Niko asked.

“No,” Trenekis said as he handed the canteen back.  He dared to look Niko in the eye again as he squashed the sudden terror he felt at being found out so easily.  He was struck by a mesmerizing revelation.  Was it really possible that someone could just recognize his true nature?  Tren studied Niko’s features.  Beneath that green-black uniform was a man handsome beyond anyone he’d ever seen before.  He was completely taken by the thick, nearly jet-black hair, the angular face with the mole on the upper left of his lip, and the olive skin absent even a hint of having been browned in the suns.  Those dark, mysterious eyes projected an aura of calm intelligence, razor-sharp confidence and fierce determination.  Yet, in those eyes there was curiosity, playfulness and lust that wove itself through as well.  It was an intoxicating brew that threatened to make him hard despite the trepidation still simmering inside him.  “You-you don’t care?”

“About what?

“That I... ”  Tren couldn’t say it.  He had never actually discussed his sexual orientation with anyone except Keenam, and they never defined it.  There was no word ‘gay’ to use.  It was just the way he was, and Keenam was only half ‘gay’.

Niko saw that Tren was struggling with a proper description.  “That you’re gay?  Why would I?  I’m gay, too.”  He knelt in front of Tren.  There was an innocence here that Niko had never seen before.  It was at once odd, delightful and magnetic.  He pulled his glove off and traced his fingers across the three-day old beard on Tren’s cheeks and chin, dropped his hand to Tren’s shoulder, then ran it down the contour of his deltoid.  Realizing he had become completely distracted, he pulled his hand away.

Trenekis felt a surge of emotion of such intensity that he grabbed Niko’s hand and held it tightly.  “Savaidras...,” Trenekis said.  Already it was difficult to catch his breath and Niko had merely touched him.  He needed to say something to this mysterious stranger, but he had no words to use.

“That’s my last name.  You get to call me Niko.”

Trenekis already realized Hiera would be visited.  “Niko, you can’t say anything to my people.  I would be banished.”

“Banished!”

“You don’t know anything about us.  I can’t be this way.  I have to marry soon.  After we return to Hiera.  Our parents decide who we marry and our counselors make sure we have children.  Falla’s been chosen for me.”

“Falla.  A girl?”

Tren nodded.

“An arranged marriage?  Why?”  Niko had only heard of such a custom from history.

“Because there are so few of us, we have to make sure our village grows.  Everyone is expected to do their part.  I’m expected to be a father.  Do-do you marry on your planet?”

Niko tried to read between the lines.  This is fucked up, he thought.  “Marry.  You mean like if I’m a guy and I’m attracted to guys, do I still have to marry a woman?”

Trenekis nodded again.

“Fuck no.”

“You’re not required to have children?”

“Uh, no,” Niko said as he vigorously shook his head.  “Look, we can talk about this later.  Now that I know what’s going on here, I seriously think it’s time we looked for your friend.”  He had enough information to be concerned for Trenekis now.  His friend Keenam was nowhere to be seen, Path Holders were running around loose, and there might be others on the way.

Niko could barely contain himself now about this boy dressed in the tight leather-like trousers, the shirt that pretended to cover his upper body; and the sun-kissed skin that invited him to strip every stitch off him, bury his nose in an armpit, and make him lost with desire.

Chapter 20

Niko gathered his things while Tren stood at the top of the stairs, watching him.  Niko gave him a quizzical look.  Trenekis was having a difficult time identifying and gathering the conflicting emotions swirling inside him.  He was terribly concerned about Keenam’s whereabouts.  At the same time, he was extremely excited that he was in the presence of an actual person from the stars.  And, for better or worse, he was irresistibly attracted to Niko.  He had never seen anyone so formidable-looking, yet so handsome.  No one in the village had a combination of features like Niko’s – his incredibly beautiful eyes, his lean body, those full thick lips.  This was impossible.  There was no way Niko was this good-looking.  And yet, he was like a powerful magnet.  Irresistible.  Drawing him in.

They left the building from the same door the rest of the survey party had used earlier.  Niko wasn’t sure which direction to take.  He figured it might be fair to go in the general direction the Path Holders went.

“So, how old are you?” Niko asked as he gave Tren’s knife back.

Tren told him.

In his head, Niko figured the difference in their respective planets’ years.  “That makes you about twenty in my years.”

“My birthday is in a few weeks.  How old are you?”

“A few years older than you.”  He gave Tren his age in the equivalent Ithos years.

“Oh,” Tren replied.  “What took so long to find us?”

“No one was looking for you.  We were on a survey mission.  You know, for potential colonization.  We have FTL now.”

“FTL,” Trenekis said aloud.  His mind was racing through acronyms.  “Faster-than-light,” he said.  “That didn’t exist when my parents came here.  You can go that fast now?”

“You know what that is?” Niko asked, incredulous.  He expected Trenekis to be completely uneducated.  “How could you possibly know about that?  It’s only been in operation for a few decades.”

“Keenam has it right now, but my vidpad has lots of information in it.  It’s like a library.  Most of the topics are useless to us, but I’ve read lots of them anyway, and watched thousands of vids.  Even if I don’t know what most of the data in the vidpad means, I still want to know about it.  That’s how I know about the sky.  I watch it all the time, at night.”

“You can read?”

“Everyone in our village goes to school.”

“Really.  I just assumed, dressed like you are, that you wouldn’t.  After all, we were fired on with bows and arrows.”

“The Path Holders hate tek.  Not us.  We used to have lots of it when I was little, but it’s mostly worn out now.  I’m in charge of putting it in storage.”  Trenekis explained his role working with Dalet in the maintenance shed.

“You’re one of the go-to guys?  You know how to use and repair tek?”

“I’m not stupid, if that’s what you mean.”

“No.  No, you’re not.  That’s quite obvious.”  Niko said as he nodded.  He already found himself ridiculously attracted to Tren.  Now, he liked Tren even more.  His speech was crisp and clear.  He used complete sentences.  He was obviously familiar with all sorts of technology, even if it was grossly outdated.

“Where are you from, Niko?”

“A planet called Eridanus Prime.”

“My parents were born on Eridanus Colony.  Is that nearby?”

“That’s the old name before we became independent.  I suspect everyone who came here was born there or in the Sol system.”

“Where Earth is.”

“Right,” Niko said.  “What do you call this planet?”

“Ithos.”

Damn.  No one in the survey party is going to get the honor of naming anything here, he thought.  “Have you been with anyone before?” Niko asked, changing the subject.  It would have been a common question to ask someone Tren’s age.

“I’m with you.”

“I meant sex.  With a boy.”

Trenekis felt his heart ramping up, but already he trusted Niko.  If Niko said he was ‘gay’ then it would be okay to discuss it.  Tren nodded and gulped.  “Only Keenam.”

“You said you two weren’t...”

“When we were younger we were each other’s first.  We were together for years.  But he-he can’t be with me anymore because he’s married.  We’re just... friends now.”  He wasn’t even going to go into the incident in the tent several days ago.  It was irrelevant anyway.

“Oh, one of those,” Niko said with assurance.  The corner of his mouth went back as he said that.  It sounded like Keenam was like Unell, who enjoyed sex with either gender.  Clearly, Trenekis would have been a willing partner if neither had had no other outlet.

Trenekis decided the dimple that formed in Niko’s cheek when he said that was one of the cutest things he’d ever seen.

They ducked into another one of the dozens of buildings along the road.  Just inside the doorway, after determining that no one was inside this one either, Niko holstered his sidearm, then unsnapped the chinstrap and pulled his helmet off.  Despite their endeavor and regardless of Trenekis being concerned about his friend’s fate, Niko couldn’t help himself.  He took Tren’s chin in hand and planted a sensuous kiss right on his mouth.

Trenekis knew it was coming.  He could feel the raw sexual energy that had been growing ever since they left the administrative building.  Trenekis found himself chubbed up in seconds.  He kissed back, reveling in the softness of Niko’s lips.  Moments later, he pulled away lest he totally embarrass himself.

“Sorry.  I couldn’t help it.  It’s just you’re... way cute.  I’m-I’m sorry about your friend.  We’ll keep looking.”  Niko felt somewhat embarrassed at his own action.  He quickly checked the time, determined to get his concentration back.  The shuttle wouldn’t be docking with the ship for another ten minutes at best.  Then they’d have to do repairs.  The Farwinds would have to be within sixty degrees of zenith for them to be able to communicate again.  He wasn’t leaving this crumbling ruin any time soon, he realized.

“Do you always do that to boys you just met?”  Tren asked after he composed himself.

“It depends.  Not everyone’s gay where I’m from, but for those who are, and if they’re as cute as you, well, kissing’s just the beginning.”

“You know others?” Tren asked.

“Of course.  There’s a certain number of us in every population.  There have to be other gay boys and girls in your village.  You don’t know them?”

Bewildered by that, Tren responded.  “No.”  This was truly a revelation.  “There are a certain number of... us... in every population?”  He truly couldn’t think of anyone else who might be like him.  He didn’t really think he could include Keenam in that ‘population’, at least not anymore.  No, wait.  Maybe Hannit.  Hannit was a year younger than Tren.  He and Tahvo were nearly inseparable.  He had been watching Hannit watching Tahvo dance during the First Harvest festival this year.  Hannit seemed in love with Tahvo.  Tahvo seemed totally oblivious to Hannit’s stares, his fawning, and the closer-than-normal camaraderie Hannit seemed to express with him.  Yes, now that Tren thought about it, Hannit was perhaps the only other person he even suspected of being gay.  And, oddly, until this moment it never occurred to him that there would be females that liked other females sexually.  It had actually never crossed his mind before.  Suddenly, it was as if a huge joke had been at his expense for a very long time.

“Yeah.  Doesn’t your vidpad have anything about human sexuality in it?”

“Mine only has technical subjects.”

“Hmm.  Well, you’re missing out.”

Niko strapped his helmet back on and glanced at Tren’s crotch.  That kiss had done more than just raise Tren’s blood pressure.  The lid had practically popped off.  He longed to do more than just kiss, but this wasn’t the time or place to even consider it.

“Do you know why the Path Holders left my planet?”  Niko asked as they went back out into the open.

Tren looked away.  The shame of knowing he was the son of the most notorious Path Holder he was aware of stung him, wounding him.  “Because of Arasen Vatch.”  Tren spat the word out, his voice hard and rough.

Niko nodded.  “Is he still alive?”

Trenekis shook his head, still not able to look at Niko.  “No, he died when the quake destroyed the city.”

Wow, Niko thought.  He does know everything!  “A fitting end, if you ask me.  He was a mass murderer.  A terrorist.  Tens of thousands of people on my planet died because of him.  No one ever found out where he or his followers went.  It was assumed they were lost in interstellar space.”

Trenekis winced.  He didn’t want to hear any more.  The pain of knowing there was even more to his father’s story than he could possibly have imagined made him reel.  He didn’t want to think about it for one more second.  He had to divert his attention.

“Whoa, I wouldn’t just yet,” Niko told him as he held his hand up.  Trenekis was just about to yell out.

“But we’ll never be able to look in every building,” Tren told him.

“We still don’t know whether those Path Holders have actually left yet.”

“We’ve not heard a thing since we... ,” Tren countered.  He was interrupted by a loud trumpeting sound that came from somewhere off to the left.

“What was that?” Niko whispered in alarm.  Only the walkways and roads nearest the plaza had been laid out on a grid.  Only two straight roads bisected the city to the plaza, too.  The way the rest of them twisted and turned reminded him of a small medieval village.  It was difficult to determine where the sound might have originated.

“Xoss beasts!” Tren told him.

“Are they dangerous?”

“No.  They carry our things.  We ride on them.”

Beasts of burden? Niko wondered.  Their investigation of this planet had been cut sorely short so far.  Niko was sure no one on his team even knew an animal that large existed.  Apparently, at least one of the species was domesticated!

Trenekis nodded as he strained to hear anything else.  “Ours are tied up outside the south gate.  We left them there since they wouldn’t fit through.”

They heard the trumpeting again.  This time it was much more distinct.  “It’s close by,” Tren said.

“Okay,” Niko told him.  “Let’s assume since we’ve not seen him or the Path Holders, that Keenam went back to look for you.  What if he’s back here now and brought your-your beasts in?”

“But he’s not called out for me.”  Tren was becoming seriously agitated.  They had no choice now but to investigate.

*

“Right there, elder,” Jonen told Desin.  In the middle of the wide intersection, largely free of debris, lay a wheel fashioned long ago of dense phalwood and rimmed with metal.  Jonen had already tried to lift it but it was extremely heavy.  It lay, oddly enough, completely by itself, as if it had fallen off a cart long ago – perhaps when everyone had fled.  Weeds had long ago grown through the spokes.  All were dead; their grayish-red spindly stalks moving stiffly in the breeze.  The wheel now served a new purpose.  Keenam, his arms tied behind his back; still gagged and blindfolded, was brought over to it.  He was pushed down to a sitting position in front of the wheel.  Desin took a thick cord he had found amidst a pile of debris in the building they had exited, tied it around Keenam’s hands, then to the wheel.  Keenam was going nowhere.

Jonen strode over to Keenam.  He pulled off the blindfold and tossed it aside.  He made no attempt to remove the gag.  “Those are your xoss?”  he demanded of Keenam.

Gabek and Wesha had gone to the south gate, forced it open by tying a rope to the beasts and having them do the work, then brought the beasts back with them.  They had only been able to get out of Keenam that he and Tren had entered the city from there.

Keenam was breathing heavily, feeling their loss already.

“A simple nod of the head will do,” Jonen said.

Keenam refused to do so.

“Don’t worry about them.  They will add to Kelesat’s herd.  We need females anyway.”

While Jonen talked to Keenam, Elders Gabek and Wesha were busy unloading the animals.  The tent was unceremoniously dumped onto the dusty street.  Keenam’s clothing was pulled out of a side pack, then Tren’s.  All of it was dropped casually to the ground.  Their cooking and eating utensils were set aside, untouched, as was their food.  The a-grav frame in its shiny silvery pouch was unrolled onto the street.  No one could identify what it was, having never seen one before, but it was obviously tek.  The rest of their personal effects were examined and casually tossed aside as well.  Lastly, Tren’s telescope was pulled out of its protective tube and handed to Jonen.

“What’s this, Keenam?”  Jonen asked.  “I already know who it belongs to,” he said.  He had already seen enough of the vids to know that the telescope tube had been on Tren’s xoss.  “It belongs to your companion, who is obviously around here somewhere, perhaps spying on us right now,” he said as he looked around.  “Is he spying on us like your friends from long ago?”  He was speaking rhetorically, of course, knowing full well that Keenam wouldn’t be able to respond.

“It took me a while to remember the name Idero, Keenam,” Jonen said as he inspected the telescope.  “And the name Rethla.  I bet you don’t know why I know them.”

Jonen was certainly single-minded in his need to prove he was boss, Keenam thought.  At first Jonen’s gruff demeanor had worked and he felt rightfully scared, but his fear and anguish of the last forty-five minutes was slowly ebbing.  As the minutes had worn on and he was kept alive, it had given him time to steel his resolve, to squeeze the fear out of himself like he would the water from a wet cloth.  Now he was angry, and getting angrier by the second.

“I know them because of two spies who were sent to our village when I was a boy.  They were questioned.  My predecessor did what I’m doing right now.  He asked nicely.  When nice didn’t work, they were given an incentive to talk.  Names were given, the names of my father’s enemies.”  Jonen knelt down in front of Keenam and pulled the gag off.  “Where is your companion?”

“I’m not telling you anything,” Keenam spat.

“I think you will.  I believe now that it’s true.  I think you’re from a village that actually did fall away from The Path,” he said as he shook his head.  “I don’t know how your people survived.  I don’t know how you,” Jonen waved Tren’s telescope in the air with a flourish, “contacted the people from the sky either.  I don’t know why your friend Trenekis is keeping himself hidden, knowing you’re right here out in the open.  But I think you love your life more than the Path.  Just like Del Nemec did all those years ago.  I think you believe The Path is false, just like he did.  That’s why Del is dead, Keenam,” he said as he pointed at him.  “He never reached The Eye.  He didn’t because he refused to follow The Path.”

Keenam had no idea what Jonen was talking about at first, but then he remembered that event.  It had happened fifteen years ago.  The day Riki Garrit was taken to Bosh.  Riki had been gone for a very long time, Keenam remembered.  His return was met with disbelief because he was near death and had come back long after his expected return date.  The adults were worried about the story Riki had told about there being a village of Path Holders three days travel from the broken abandoned city, luckily not in Hiera’s direction.

Hierans had needed to know how safe they were.  Del and Riki had volunteered for the trip.  They had taken it upon themselves to find out what they might be up against.  Had Arasen’s followers scattered?  Had they consolidated power?  Did they still occupy the city?  No one knew anything.  Del and Riki were caught one night camped out near Kelesat.  The two men were prepared though.  They already had a detailed and thoroughly embellished cover story about how they had been in the clutches of a band of decadent anti-Arasen followers who were still on the run.  They had become disillusioned and hoped to find the true followers again.  Despite their story, it was quickly discovered that he and Del were telling a pack of lies.  The Path Holders were fundamentally different people by that time.  Those who didn’t completely believe in The Path had all been banished.  The ones who remained were the most ardent believers.  The entire village of men, women and children spent a good deal of their waking hours steeping themselves in the tenets of The Path.  They had devolved to actual worship of The Eye.  They had eschewed nearly all traces of the tek that had not only brought them to Ithos, but built the city and even allowed Kelesat to exist in the first place.  Del and Riki quickly discovered that knowledge was anathema to the inhabitants of Kelesat.  Blind belief had supplanted rational inquiry.  Hard-edged authoritarian rule had replaced Arasen’s arbitrary set of rights and wrongs.  Kelesat was very nearly a pre-civilized culture, intent only on rigidly following a fundamentalist version of Arasen’s Path of Perfection.  It was very easy to tell that Del and Riki weren’t part of that belief system, ignorant of subtle meanings behind Arasen’s ‘perfect revealed word’ about The Path, The Eye; and the appropriate rituals that must be observed to cleanse oneself, to prepare to be welcomed ‘home’.

Only Riki had managed to escape after their capture and interrogation.  After his return to Hiera, he lived only a few days, kept alive by the medicines that were still abundant and the med tek that still worked back then.  He lived long enough to tell them everything about how Arasen’s right hand man Rumfel, had become their leader.  The man was as heartless as Arasen, Keenam was told years later.

Yes, all of it came back to Keenam now.  There was a reason why no one was allowed to have contact with Path Holders, a very good reason.  Now he knew exactly why.

“Those spies were sent to drive a wedge into the heart of the true holders of the Path of Perfection,” Jonen told Keenam.  “They were sent to drive us away from the eternal path that leads to The Eye, to infect us with the same infection that split my father’s city apart.  But they were caught in their lie, Keenam.  Caught just like I caught you.  Caught, like your friend Trenekis will be, when he finally shows himself.  So, save yourself some trouble.  Where is your village?  How many of them will we lead to The Path?  I’m looking forward to meeting all those non-believers and the people from the sky.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Keenam told him.

Jonen shook his head.  “We’ve already driven your sky friends away.  We all saw how quick they were to leave you here.  All we have to do now is find Trenekis and we’ll be on our way.”

“Jonen,” Elder Sab said.  He had been going through the vids in a folder on the main screen.  “You’ll want to see this.”

Jonen had Wesha replace Keenam’s gag and blindfold, then went to the vidpad.  Sab started the vid.  A few minutes later Jonen returned to Keenam.  “You were wise to make those vids,” he told Keenam.  “It won’t be too difficult to backtrack to Hiera.”

Keenam tried his best to struggle out of the ropes.  He pulled and tugged, now more angry than ever.

Jonen took a few steps back from Keenam and loudly shouted.  “Trenekis!  We have Keenam!  Show yourself and he lives!”

*

At Jonen’s first echoed word, Niko and Trenekis came to a dead stop.  Tren’s heart was racing already.  “That can only be Path Holders,” Tren warned, more fearful than the moment he first set eyes on Niko.

Niko gripped his weapon tightly.  This didn’t bode well for them, and there was no telling how many more of those crazy zealots were still holed up in various parts of this obviously not abandoned town.

Chapter 21

“Captain, KAI has some of those results we were waiting for.  I’d like to have you review them with me,” Dr. Beld said into the comm from the science observation lab.

“I’ll join you in five minutes.”

The doors to Dr. Beld’s left slid open.  The captain came in and took one of the seats next to the astrophysicist.  KAI was to Dr. Beld’s right.  They had been discussing the data when the captain arrived.  Although KAI was nothing more than solid-looking holographic projection, her personality was fine-tuned to each member of the crew and passengers.  She acknowledged the captain’s presence.

“KAI’s whittled down the mountain of astrometric data,” Dr. Beld told him.  “Prelim analysis had been completed.  I’ve got some climatology data on the planet and a possible target for another inhabited area.

“As for the possible target, there appears to be a terraced area along the rim of that caldera fifty-four kilometers from the abandoned town.  Looks like crops were or are being planted there.  There’s a nearby forest that looks like it has some sort of structures below the canopy – roofs, open walkways and such.  The inhabited area is, or was, sizable.  No EM readings from there either.  We’ll want to go down and investigate to determine if it’s occupied or not.  I’ll have the data along with the geographical coordinates sent to the bridge when we’re done.”

The captain nodded.

“We have other issues.”

“Let’s hear it.”

“Long range observations of the red dwarf from the orbital platform in the Epsilon Eridanus system were only partially accurate.  Now that we’ve amassed close-up data, it’s not looking good.”

“I knew it,” the captain replied.

“Yep, it’s the usual issue when dealing with red dwarf stars,” the astrophysicist said.  “They tend to be unstable and can flare.  When they do, they eject dangerous solar material into the system.  If those particles and energy are aimed at a habitable planet all hell can break loose.”

The captain nodded.  “DNA is destroyed, amongst other things.”

“Correct.”

“But this planet’s teeming with life.”

“True.  All indications are that the planet has fully developed ecosystems.  Flaring doesn’t appear to have disrupted them in the short run, but red dwarfs exist on the order of dozens, if not hundreds of billions of years.  This one will long outlive the stars it’s orbiting, and dwarfs can go through long periods of stability, followed by erratic periods of instability.  This one’s entered a period of instability.”

“Don’t tell me.  There’s no way to determine how long that will last.”

“Not with our present technology,” Dr. Beld said as he slightly shook his head.

“Strike one,” the captain said.

“There’s more,” Dr. Beld continued.  “KAI’s worked out the Milankovic cycles, which, as you know, describe the orbital shape of planets in a star system: tilt, precession... all that.  Prelim evidence says the planet has enjoyed a nearly unvarying orbital pattern for the last few hundred million years.  That pattern has stabilized the planet’s climate, and allowed time for evolution to do its job, but that pattern’s coming to an end.  The planet is heating up.  It’ll heat up considerably over the next several hundred years.  That heating will certainly cause entire ecosystems to die off quickly rather than be able to adapt.  It’ll be similar to what happened on Earth six hundred years ago.”

“Strike two,” the captain said with a sigh.

“Here comes strike three.  The planet has four moons.  The smallest and closest to the surface is sixty-one kilometers in diameter.  It’s dangerously close to the planet’s Roche limit.  That moon will break up in eight hundred years, give or take a hundred.”

The captain shook his head.

“Sorry, captain.  I can’t recommend this planet for long-term habitation.  Short term exploitation, absolutely.  I recommend starting that as soon as possible.  Mining equipment, cargo ships, smelters, the works.  We could strip the surface of anything valuable in a couple hundred years.  Ore values look to be high too, and we’ll obviously have to do more sample gathering to determine how high, but there’s no way can we move humanity here for a permanent stay.”

“Strike three, it is.  No chance we can move a moon, huh?”

Dr. Beld shrugged his shoulders.  “Not yet, but anything can happen with the rate astro-engineering has progressed.  Working FTL was supposed to be impossible, yet we have that.  As for the moon, a ring might develop instead of an outright strike, like the rings around the ice giants in the Sol system, but large chunks will inevitably hit the surface.  We’re looking at an extinction event, if not several.  If that happens, the surface will be uninhabitable for possibly the lifetime of our civilization.”

“Whoa,” the captain responded.

“It’s a shame, too.  This is one of the more promising planets.  Its specific density and diameter is nearly ideal, it has plenty of oxygen and considerable habitable landmass.  Hell, the rotation rate is nearly twenty-four hours.  What more could you ask for?  But we can’t move tens of thousands, if not hundreds of thousands of colonists, in a few hundred years.  By that time, there could be fully functioning societies here.”

At that instant, an image swelled beneath Dr. Beld’s arm on the dark surface of the control panel.  He moved it to see Lieutenant Takashi on the bridge.

“Captain,” the lieutenant said.  “We’ve got an emergency.”

The captain immediately stood up.  “What kind of emergency?”

“Commander Hittan reports being attacked by humans on the surface.  Arita was shot by an arrow and injured pretty badly.  The commander’s on his way back right now with the rest of the survey team, minus Savaidras.”

“Why did he leave Savaidras?”

“Unknown.”

“Patch me in.”

“Right away.”

A moment later Commander Hittan’s face replaced Takashi’s.  “Report, commander,” the captain said.

“I can’t explain it, sir.  The team was searching the abandoned town.  There was nothing to suggest the place was occupied.  Out of nowhere someone shot the rear component rack with an energy weapon.  Then a man using a bow and arrow shot Arita.  There were half a dozen other attackers hiding out as well.  Arita’s hurt pretty badly.  Everyone else is safe.  We had to take off to get Arita proper medical attention.  Savaidras was in charge and insisted on staying behind to cover everyone.  We contacted him from orbit.  He’s safe.  The men fled after they attacked us.”

“What’s Arita’s condition?”

“He’s lost a lot of blood but his pressure’s holding.  The med kit is good but it’s not the med chamber.”

“Acknowledged.  We’ll be ready when you get here.”

“Captain, there’s more.  We’ve got systems failures all over the place.  Backups are handling some of them, but they weren’t designed to take an energy weapon hit.  Life support’s at minimum.”

The captain interrupted him.  “KAI,” he said.

KAI looked at him.  “Yes, sir.”

“Access the shuttle’s datastream link.  Find out what systems have been damaged and reroute what you can.  I want replacement components ready before they dock.  Notify the maintenance crew to be ready.  Contact Dr. Heskid and have him ready the med chamber for Arita.”

“Right away, sir.”  It looked as if she were doing nothing, but KAI could be everywhere on the ship at once.  She was already busy rerouting shuttle sub-systems and determining whether the ship’s stores had the required replacement modules or if she needed to start having parts fabricated.

“Takashi, are we close enough to communicate with Savaidras?”

“No sir.  Won’t be back in range for another forty-five minutes.”

“Damn it.  I can’t have a man down there without backup.  Commander, I’ll meet you in the shuttle bay in... ”

Takashi glanced at the chronometer.  “Twenty minutes.”

“Out,” the captain said to them both.  He glanced at Dr. Beld.  “Shit!” he said loudly as they left the lab.  KAI dissolved into nothingness as the ceiling lights faded behind them.

*

“Let’s go,” Niko said.  With his side arm ready, he and Tren went to the middle of the street, skirting debris along the way.  The words they heard were loud and clear.  Path Holders had captured Keenam and they knew Trenekis was out there, but Niko heard no mention of himself in that ultimatum.  Perhaps they didn’t know he was here!

Niko knew he could walk away from this.  Whatever was going on here had nothing to do with him or his team.  But he couldn’t.  Not now.  Not with what he knew about Trenekis, his ridiculously strong attraction to him, the fact that Tren’s people had extricated themselves from Path Holder influence, and that his friend Keenam needed help.  No, he couldn’t just leave without at least trying to help.  He would never forgive himself.

The road jogged to the left.  Just beyond was an intersection.  Niko could just about smell an ambush.  He told Tren to keep a close watch for any movement.  None of the rooftops could hold anyone, so at least no arrows would come down from above, but the many open doorways and mounds of debris were perfect hiding places.  Niko knew he was far better off than Tren.  An arrow, no matter how sharp, was no match for his safe suit.  Tren, without such protective clothing, was totally vulnerable.

*

Except for Jonen, who was squatting down next to Keenam, the rest of the elders hid themselves around the intersection.  When Jonen saw two people come into view, his first reaction was fear, which was instantly replaced with deliberate resolve.  That man dressed in black was one of the sky people!  Obviously, one had stayed behind.  It didn’t matter.  His plan would change only slightly.

“Keenam!” Trenekis shouted.  He could see that Keenam was blindfolded and wanted him to know he was there for him.

Niko’s eyes darted all around.  There was no way this man in the middle of the street was going to do this by himself or without reinforcements.  There.  Two people were doing a terrible job of hiding.  He knew there were more nearby.  Yet, why did they have Keenam in the first place?  What was the threat?  It made no sense.

Jonen rose up.  He had loosened the ropes enough to pull Keenam to his feet with him.  Neither Niko or Tren could see the weapon he had hidden at the small of Keenam’s back.  Once Niko and Tren were close enough, Jonen raised it up and touched the muzzle to the side of Keenam’s head.  He and Urey were the only ones who knew it was useless.

That got Niko’s attention.  He stopped and immediately held his arm out to stop Tren, too.  He aimed his weapon at Jonen.  “Let him go,” Niko responded, trying to sound formidable, though he knew he wouldn’t be able to fire at the man and not hit Keenam, too.  The energy packet field would hit them both.  Both of them would be injured if he pulled the trigger.  Niko whispered to Trenekis.  “Who is that?”

Trenekis shook his head.  He had no idea.  Did it really matter though?  He was a Path Holder, and he was holding a weapon to the head of the one person in the entire world he loved dearly.  Fear gripped him hard once again.

“Drop your weapon or he dies,” Jonen shouted back.

Keenam tried to kick Jonen but missed.  Jonen grabbed Keenam’s hair in back and pulled, deliberately causing him pain.  That brought a grimace to Keenam’s face.  His muffled cries could easily be heard across the intersection.

Niko had to think fast.  The situation was rapidly deteriorating.  He looked up briefly, hoping beyond hope that the shuttle was on its way down right now, but he knew that wasn’t going to happen.

“I said, drop your weapon, sky man,” Jonen told Niko.

“Let him go,” Trenekis repeated before he even knew he had said it.  He shouldn’t have said anything.  Those three words were laced with trepidation.

“Only if the sky man gives himself up.”  As far as Jonen was concerned, the darkly clad man was not only a bargaining chip, but he would be an example after he was interrogated and disposed of.  No one would invade Ithos without paying a price.

He’s serious, Niko realized.  Determining whether the man’s word meant anything was another question altogether.  His mind racing, he figured the only way to prevent Keenam’s from being harmed would be to do as Jonen said.  He was sure his weapon would immediately be taken away but he wasn’t the least concerned about that.  They didn’t know it couldn’t be used against him.  That was to his advantage.  But was it possible they had been trained to fight?  He didn’t exactly have good fighting skills himself.  Only a couple of pseudo-combat sessions had been a part of his survey camp training.  They had been solely for strength training and physical discipline, and he had never been in a street fight with anyone – where life or death might matter.  Even with the odds stacked against them, Niko found no alternative.  Hurry up, Hittan, he said under his breath.  “I give up,” he shouted.  He unsnapped his chinstrap and dropped his sidearm in front of him.  “Raise your arms up,” he told Tren.

Tren grabbed Niko’s arm.  “What are you doing?” he asked, totally alarmed at this sudden show of cowardice.

“Trust me,” Niko whispered.

Trenekis could do nothing but comply.  Niko had already dropped his weapon.  Flabbergasted, he let go and raised his arms.

The gag had made it impossible for Keenam to warn Trenekis who this elder was.  It was terrifying what he heard, too.  Tren had been nearby after all, just waiting for the right time to show himself, but who was this ‘sky man’?  Was he actually from that ship he saw?  If so, how had Tren made a friend so quickly?  And had Tren found help, only to have the man give up?  None of this made sense.  If only he could see what was going on.

Jonen let go of Keenam’s hair.  The blindfold slipped.  What Keenam saw threatened to transform his continued anger to fear once again.  Elders were roughly handling the sky man.  He was sure no one was getting out of this alive.

“Who are you?” Jonen demanded of Niko after he and Tren had been sufficiently tied up.

Niko’s heart was still racing.  He had indeed been relieved of his weapon.  His gloves, helmet and sunglasses were tossed aside.  Tren’s knife had been taken.  Four elders had arrows in their bows, just waiting for the right word.  He realized he’d made yet another blunder.  This was definitely not the right strategy, but maybe he could buy them some time.  Maybe.

“Who are you?” Niko responded.

“I am Elder Jonen Vatch, leader of Kelesat and of these elders.  You are not welcome here.”

Tren’s mouth dropped open.  Jonen?  Alive and leader of the Path Holders?  The very idea sickened him.  “Y-you’re Jonen?”  Tren stammered.

“You know me.  Just as well.”

“We’ve done nothing to you,” Tren told him.  “Let us go.”

“You are correct, Trenekis Idero,” he said as he looked back at Keenam briefly to help Tren understand how he knew his name.  “You’ve done nothing to me personally, but your very own father led an insurrection against this city’s people and stole its contents.  And this sky man is obviously here to help you steal what’s left.  His corrupt influence will not leave this city.”

To Niko, Jonen’s arrogant declarations were already annoying.  The man was obviously full of himself.  He spat on the ground to show Jonen he would have nothing to do with this charade.  “That’s a lie.”

Elder Gabek, who wasn’t holding a bow, stepped up and, without ceremony, punched Niko in the gut.  Immediately, Gabek yelped in pain.  It was as if the soft material had suddenly been replaced by a plate of metal.  Several of the elders shuffled their feet nervously, not understanding what just happened.

“His jacket.  It’s not made of cloth,” Gabek told Jonen.

Niko held a grin in check even while realizing these crazies might just kill him on the spot.

“Take it off him,” Jonen told Sab.  Sab put his arrow back in the quiver, then slung the bow over his shoulder.  Sab glanced down briefly at the comm on Niko’s wrist, not knowing what it was.  He found the catch and disconnected it.  The rest of the elders surrounded Niko.  One of them untied his hands.  Sab flipped the buckles open on Niko’s jacket in quick succession.  Two of the elders roughly pulled it off.  Sab tossed Niko’s comm on top of the wadded up jacket.

Tren watched as the men stripped Niko down to his white t-shirt.  The sweat spots under Niko’s armpits and in the middle of his chest had made the thin material translucent.  If this had been any other situation Tren would have found his current state of undress irresistible, but not here, not now when they both might surely die.

“Tie him to that ledak,” Jonen told Elders Sab and Gabek.  The three-meter tall ledak sapling growing in the bare dirt patch was meager-looking.  Yet, a ledak only a few centimeters in diameter had a network of roots that made it impossible to pull out of the ground without at least a shovel.  Niko was hauled backward, pushed against the sapling and his hands retied around the trunk.  He quickly determined he was going nowhere.

Jonen turned his attention to Keenam, who had been pushed back down to a sitting position.  He had his knees up, still tied and gagged.  The blindfold was still mostly in place.  Jonen pulled it off, then the gag.  “Watch how we deal with deniers of The Path,” he told Keenam.  This was Keenam’s first good look at Niko and where he had been brought.

Gabek pulled his fist back.  Niko saw it coming and tensed his abs.  The punch hit him hard.  He doubled over in pain, then dropped to his knees.  He couldn’t catch his breath at first and thought he might black out.

“Never call Elder Jonen a liar.  Never!”  Gabek told him.  “Get up!”

Niko slowly rose back to his feet, now coughing and gasping for air.  He wasn’t going to let these maniacs get the best of him just yet.  He was going to look and act strong if nothing more than for show.

“We’ll be okay, Keenam.  I promise,” Tren told him.  Trenekis didn’t understand this at all.  Jonen seemed crazed, lashing out at them for no reason other than not being Path Holders.  Is this how Arasen City had been founded?  Had their father been this crazy?  If so, it had apparently afflicted Jonen with a vengeance, but how?  Their father was long dead.  Jonen must have been no more than four years old when the quake took the man’s life.  How could he have been an influence for these actions?  Jonen’s upbringing must have been totally different than his own.  Utterly different, Tren realized.

Jonen turned to Wesha and pointed to Trenekis.  “Untie him,” he said.  Jonen went to a pile of debris several meters away.  He reached down and retrieved two long lengths of phalwood he had placed there when Keenam had been tied up by the wheel.  They had been used for some unknown purpose long ago and were exceedingly strong, having cured with age.

After his bonds were removed, Tren was shoved into the street.  Niko could only watch the events play out, intent on figuring out how he was going to stop this madness.  Wesha stood behind Niko and eyed him cautiously.

Jonen tossed Trenekis one of the poles.  Trenekis deftly caught it.  It was a little less than two meters long and had just enough thickness for him to wrap his fingers fully around it.  Jonen twirled his end over end, testing its center of balance, having already chosen the better of the two.

Trenekis immediately realized what was taking place.  Jonen was going to fight him!  He was instantly concerned.  This was not a sword; it was a mere stick, albeit a very dense one.  There were no rules here.  No one would stop the fight if it got out of control.  Jonen was bent on violence and nothing else.  That much he was absolutely sure of.

“Death without perfection is the destruction of the soul,” Jonen recited.  “Before the soul withers, it lives within a putrefied body.  That body infects all it touches.  You are not following The Path, Trenekis.  You and your friends are intent on infecting us with non-belief.  That infection will not reach Kelesat.”  He immediately swung at Tren.

Tren’s long hours of practicing with his peers was the only reason his arm wasn’t immediately broken or stinging in severe pain.  He neatly deflected the blow and stepped back.

Jonen wasn’t prepared for Tren to react so well or so quickly. He immediately whirled around and swung from the other side, the pole singing through the air.  Tren pulled back.  The tip caught a fold in Tren’s shirt and ripped it.

“So, you’ve done this before,” Jonen said.  Then, looking directly at Tren, he gave him a choice.  “Those who have strayed from The Path have an opportunity to recant.  You can prevent your infection from spreading.  Recite the tenets of the Path of Perfection and I will stop this.  Follow us to Kelesat and join us and you will live a very long time.  Otherwise, before the day is out, you may be drawing your last breath.”

Niko couldn’t believe what he just heard.  Jonen already knew Trenekis wasn’t a Path Holder.  There was no way he could recite any tenets of their crazy religion.  For that alone he was bent on murdering Trenekis?  At first, Niko had thought Jonen wasn’t much more than a grown up bully, but it was obvious he was far worse than that.  If the kernel of this bizarre religion had started growing in Gagarin City when his grandfather was alive, no wonder Arasen had had to flee.  Who would have allowed this kind of insane belief system to flourish?  Clearly, those who came with him had done so!  Niko had to stop this, but how?

Off to his left Elder Kamay had Niko’s weapon at Keenam’s head.  Why is he using my weapon, Niko wondered.  Where’s the one Jonen had?  Niko saw it sitting atop someone’s pack and recognized it as an antique Butler 555 series sidearm.  They were collectors items.  His very own father had one.  The tiny light on the butt was glowing red.  Oh, shit!  If his hands had been untied, Niko would have slapped himself.  The power pack was fully discharged.  He’d been duped!  The weapon had been totally useless and Jonen had acted as if it were charged.  It was the oldest trick in the book.  Niko very nearly stamped his foot in the dirt.  Yet, that meant these Path Holders had one less point to score the easy way.  At least Keenam was somewhat safe.  No one knew what Niko knew about his weapon and he intended to keep it that way.

Jonen and Tren circled each other.  Jonen had no intention of ending this confrontation quickly.  He wanted to drag it out, sure that Tren’s adrenaline would eventually ebb and cause him to tire.  He tested Tren’s resolve by feigning a couple of swings, forcing Tren to react.  Jonen’s next one struck Tren in the back of the thigh.  Tren went down to his knees in a cloud of dust.

“Your father is Ayvik Idero,” Jonen said.  Venom was in his voice.  “He was the cause of the destruction of this city.”

Tren realized he was being baited.  Gritting his teeth, he refused to respond as he held on to his thigh.  He couldn’t believe how much the blow hurt.  He dared not cry out though.  He had no interest in being drawn into this bizarre conversation, but at the same time he realized that maybe if he talked, he could find Jonen’s weakness.  Clearly, Jonen had practiced this fighting style.  Kelesat must have rites similar to those in Hiera, he thought.  Was this universal?  Did boys everywhere fight? But today’s purpose wasn’t to provide training or mental discipline.  Jonen’s intention was nothing less than malevolent.  But why? Was it merely because he didn’t follow their religion?  It was everything Tren could do to hide his fear.  Then it came to him.  He knew what he had to do, but he had to find the right moment.  It might be the perfect distraction.  He pushed himself up from the ground, stood, staggered briefly, then held the pole at the ready.  Jonen stood several paces away, just out of reach, circling, testing.

“My father is a good man,” Trenekis said, squelching the pain as best as he could.  But his voice cracked.  His fear and the pain of Jonen’s blow were coming through.  He sucked in deep breaths in an attempt to calm himself.  How was he going to come out of this alive?  Niko and Keenam were tied up, unable to help him.  The other elders had bows and arrows, although oddly, none of them had arrows strung.  Two of them weren’t even holding their bows.  They were on the ground.  Two others had them slung over their shoulders, watching the spectacle with arms crossed, apparently sure of the outcome.  Could he run away fast enough without getting an arrow in his back?

Tren’s fear was slowly turning into anger.  In the past, it had surfaced for no apparent reason, to flood his senses with illogical outbursts.  Here though, Jonen was deliberately trying to draw it out of him, to make him lash out.  To make him tired.  The sudden realization of that was a revelation.  Anger makes me strong, he thought.  I am purpose against chaos.  Jonen can not defeat me.

“Your sky friends won’t help you, Trenekis,” Jonen told him.  “Their only purpose is the make sure your soul never reaches The Eye.  I will not allow them to infect any Path Holder with their wonton desire for our souls’ dissolution.  So, once I take care of you I will fight Keenam.  Then it’s the sky man’s turn.  But you can stop this now.  Follow us and you’ll have a place at The Eye.”

Niko, too, realized Jonen was deliberately trying to anger Tren.  He was greatly concerned that that might make Tren falter.  Niko also knew Jonen was using ‘take care of’ as a euphemism for kill.  Tied up as he was, a few more good blows to his now unprotected torso and he would be severely hurt.  He could only hope Tren could somehow injure Jonen enough to make him stop.

Wesha watched Jonen strut around the dusty street.  Wesha was so tired.  So, so tired.  It had taken days to get here and he hadn’t had a decent night’s sleep for any one of them.  Being tired was always with him.  He had had to leave his family alone again, but that was just recently.  There had been so many long hours of memorization.  The long nights where he couldn’t sleep, knowing he was trapped.  The Path of Perfection was never ending.  He knew only too well that the slightest infraction of village edicts led to punishment.  The Path required so much discipline and sacrifice that Wesha long wished it would simply come to an end.  There had been many times in the last several years when he wished he could walk away from Kelesat.  Knowing now that there was another village was cause for hope, a hope he never thought would be possible.  There actually were sky people, too.  It wasn’t just a fantasy in the Log Book.  Here was one in the flesh right in front of him.  There had been others who left in their sky craft.  They were roaming the stars!

Wesha never dared betray his thoughts to others, least of all to his wife and parents.  Yet, it was becoming nearly impossible to monitor his thoughts anymore.  And now he had to witness Jonen’s show of force against this supposed enemy was who was obviously not going to win.  No one had ever won a fight with Jonen since he had killed Rumfel.  He wanted to shout out that this was wrong, that this was a mistake, that these two people weren’t enemies to despise, but rather a sign that they were no longer alone on this huge empty planet.  He knew uttering even a syllable about that would cause him to have to wield that phalwood stick against Jonen.

It was as if a mysterious force were compelling him.  Still standing behind their captive, Wesha very slowly moved his head close to Niko’s ear and whispered.  “Choose your moment carefully.”

Niko felt the rope being untied from around his wrists.  It didn’t make any sense.  He felt sure it was a ruse.  These men certainly wouldn’t let him escape.  But at least he might have a chance to end this-this ridiculous confrontation.  That was more than Jonen was willing to offer.

The rope sufficiently loosened now, Wesha backed away.  If the sky man made a run for it, he would feign being confused and not stop him.  Maybe he would flee as well, in the same direction.  He slowly moved further away, intent on watching the fight unfold in the street.

Jonen stepped away from Trenekis for a moment, letting him catch his breath.  In one quick motion, he swooped over and picked up Tren’s telescope.  “What is this, Trenekis?”

“Give it to me.”

“You use this to look at the sky, no?”

“Give it to me!” Tren demanded.  This time anger made itself very apparent.

“Did you find the sky man with this?  If you come with us to Kelesat you won’t be allowed to have it.”

“I will never follow you,” Tren said, his words dripping with disgust.

Jonen didn’t hesitate.  He held the pole at his shoulder, tossed the telescope up, then holding the pole with both hands, struck it with a decisive blow.  The telescope snapped in half.  The barrel cracked in multiple places and splintered with an awful sound, pieces falling all over the street.  The lenses flew off into the hard-baked dirt, one of them spinning off somewhere, never to be seen again.

The breath nearly left Tren’s body.  His telescope was an instrument of beauty.  It had shown him wonders that had given him goose bumps more than a dozen times.  It proved the goodness in Keenam’s heart.  It had been fashioned by his very own hands; carefully, with a warmth that only friendship could forge.  It was a symbol of the bond they shared.  The telescope was an instrument of truth.  Trenekis had viewed The Eye with it many times.  It was a star like any other, not an object of worship and certainly not a place anyone, much less a Path Holder, would ever visit.  The telescope had allowed him to create an ocean of data tables that showed him the regular motions of the moons and Ithos’s passage through an infinite river of stars.

Tears welled up in Keenam’s eyes.  He knew Tren loved that telescope more than nearly anything.  To see it destroyed so casually was beyond belief.  Jonen must be insane.  That was all he could imagine.

Jonen successfully provoked Tren to make a rash move.  He charged Jonen, his pole at the ready.  He swung.  Jonen neatly deflected it, twirled around and landed a solid blow to the small of Tren’s back.  Tren landed face first in the dirt.  He was unable to catch his breath for several seconds.

Jonen stood over Tren as he twirled the pole in the air.  “You will be held accountable for evil tek, Trenekis.  You will be held accountable for what your father did to this city in his stead, unless you willingly come with us.”

Trenekis was sure his head would be bashed in as he lay there, but Jonen had no intention of doing that.  There were more taunts, more accusations, more humiliation to dispense.

“Get up!” Jonen ordered.

Trenekis coughed, heaved in a painful breath, then dragged himself to his knees.  He wiped the dust off his face.  He was seriously beginning to tire.  The pain in his back was merciless.  Despite it, he slowly stood, stumbled, then held the pole up again.  Tren saw it coming and raised the pole up high.  The shiny wood was slick enough to cause Jonen’s blow to slide down to his hand.  It hit the side of Tren’s index finger knuckle and split open the flesh to the bone, making it instantly bleed.  The pain was so great he had no control over his hand.  He couldn’t release his grip.  Trenekis could barely hold himself together now.  He dropped to his knees, exhausted.  “Jonen,” Tren said, breathing hard.

“You’re coming with us?  You will learn The Path?”  Jonen asked with a smile on his face, yet his breath coming in heaves, too.

“Do you remember Maros?”  Tren winced.  He managed to unclench his fist.  The pole dropped heavily to the dusty street.  He held his bleeding hand with the other to his chest.  Blood streamed down his wrist onto his clothing and stomach, and mixed with dust and sweat.  He was totally defenseless now.  Jonen could easily finish him off.

Jonen stopped cold.  “Maros is dead,” he said.

“No,” Tren told him.  He looked up at his adversary.  “I’m Maros.  I swear it.  You wouldn’t kill your brother.  You wouldn’t.”  It was the only play he had left.  He couldn’t go on any further.  He was already too badly hurt and losing the emotional battle.

“No,” Jonen said.  He stepped forward, narrowing his eyes, confused, mystified at this bizarre declaration.

Tren was sniffling now as much from the pain as from having to reveal this awful secret.  “You and I are brothers, Jonen.  I swear it.  Ayvik is my stepfather.  One of my people found me in the city after the quake.  He didn’t know who I was.  He pulled me from the rubble and took me.  It wasn’t until later that they found out I was Arasen’s son.”

Niko couldn’t believe it.  Tren had invented a perfect distraction!  No one was paying the least bit of attention to him.  He couldn’t wait another second.  He had to act now because Trenekis wasn’t going to win this fight, especially after spouting something as ridiculous as that.

Niko had managed to pull the ropes from around his wrists and had been waiting for the circulation to return to his hands.  He could finally feel them and had control over his fingers.  He was going to need them.  He drew in a deep breath, steeled his resolve, then dashed toward Kamay.

“Jonen!” the elder screamed.  He still had Niko’s gun pointed at Keenam.  Kamay pulled the trigger.  Nothing happened.  He tried again.  Still nothing.  Keenam had his eyes clenched tightly shut, terrified he was going to die.  Niko could see the panic in Kamay’s eyes as he leapt up and aimed his feet at the man.  Kamay emitted a loud ‘oof’ as he fell onto his side.  Niko landed on top of him; sure he heard a rib crack.  The weapon flew out of Kamay’s hand as his head hit the ground.  He stopped moving as he went unconscious.  The weapon landed just out of their reach.  Niko scrambled to get it.

Jonen whirled around just as Kamay went down.  Before Niko could recover the weapon, Bahki and Desin had their bows off their shoulders, pulling arrows from their quivers.  Neither was trained for combat.  All of the elders were skilled hunters and excellent farmers.  This foray into the city was nothing more than a quick gathering of Jonen’s most capable young men.  Their reflexes weren’t honed for fighting like this.  Both elders fumbled.

“No!” Wesha yelled as he watched Bahki and Desin try to string arrows.

Bahki was terribly confused by Wesha’s plea, but not Jonen.  Jonen yelled out in frustration as he rushed forward, already forgetting he was fighting Tren.  He could see what was happening already.  Wesha was defending the sky man, but why?

Everyone was watching Niko now.  No one was looking at Tren.  He couldn’t believe this moment had arrived.  Jonen had completely turned his back!  That gave Tren a moment to fight the pain just enough.  He grabbed the pole with his good hand.  Trenekis was left-handed.  Could he hold it properly with his right?  Regardless, he fully understood there were no rules here.  No protections were in place.  It was time to be a wild animal again.  Indeed, Jonen had proven he was not much more than that.  Tren stood, raised the pole up and came down hard directly on top of Jonen’s head.  The sound of wood hitting his skull made a loud cracking sound.  Jonen went down in a heap.  Bahki whirled around and faced Tren, his arrow ready.

“No!” Wesha screamed out again as he nearly swam in the air to reach Bahki and Desin.  They turned at nearly the same time and instinctively let their arrows fly, thinking it was Niko who was rushing them.  Bahki’s arrow went straight into Wesha’s chest.  The force of it knocked him backward.  He landed on the ground with an audible thud and stopped moving.  Desin was flustered and missed.  His arrow went into the side of Keenam’s calf.

Keenam screamed in pain.

“Keenam!” Tren yelled.

Niko plucked his weapon from the ground, terrified he might not be fast enough.  Finally, with his hand firmly on the butt and his finger inside the trigger guard, he aimed, pulling the trigger once, twice, three times, then a fourth time.  Two of the shots hit Bahki and Desin, who went down.  Their bows flew off in random directions.

The whirlwind of activity suddenly ceased.

“Go,” Niko yelled at the elders.  “Go or I’ll kill all of you.”  He aimed his weapon at the remaining men.  There was an instant when no one moved, then they dropped everything.  Niko had never seen people run so fast.

Breathing heavily, Niko stood and checked on Kamay.  The man was still passed out.  Satisfied he was no threat right now, Niko lowered his weapon.

Trenekis dragged himself over to Keenam and, after several fumbled attempts, was able to untie him.

“I thought you were dead, Tren,” Keenam said through heavy sobs.

Neither was able to contain themselves as streams of dust-streaked tears ran down their cheeks.  Their hair was a mess, dust was all over their clothing, and blood was everywhere.  Despite the throbbing pain in his leg, Keenam grabbed Trenekis and hugged.  Tren’s hand, nearly useless and still oozing blood, got plenty of it on Keenam’s back as he hugged back.  Trenekis dared to look at Keenam’s leg.  The arrow had gone in a few centimeters but it wasn’t bleeding nearly as much as he thought it would.

“Don’t pull it out,” Niko told them.  Satisfied that Tren and Keenam were okay, at least for the moment, he went to Jonen.  He was face down in the dirt.  A dark clot of blood had matted the hair on the back of his head.  It looked disgusting, but he had to determine if the man was dead or not.  He put a finger to the man’s neck.  He felt a pulse and noted shallow breathing.  Eventually, the four elders would return.  There was no doubt about that.  He’d let them deal with Jonen and Kamay.  He figured Kamay would live.  He wasn’t so sure about Jonen, but didn’t care.

Next was Wesha.  Niko stood over him and looked down at the man.  His eyes were open.  He saw no breathing.  He touched the man’s neck, checking for a pulse.  Nothing.  He was sure this one was dead.  It was too bad about him.  The man had saved his life.

“S-sky man,” Keenam said.

Niko came to them and went to one knee.  “Name’s Niko.”

“H-how did you do that?”

“Do what?”

“When the Elder had your weapon it-it didn’t work.  Then you had it and it worked.”

Niko grinned.  “It’s coded only for my bioelectrical signature.  I knew it wouldn’t fire if he had it.  I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you that.”

Keenam reached out and took Niko’s hand.  He shook it hard.  He tried to say thanks but his voice failed him.  Instead, he once again held on to Trenekis.

Chapter 22

“We need to get out of here.  Now.  My ship will be calling soon and we don’t need another confrontation with those elders.”  Niko spat out that last word, finding it ridiculous that a bunch of guys his own age were using such a title.

“Can you stand?”  Tren asked Keenam.

Keenam tried and, with Tren helping him, stood, but was unable to put pressure on his injured leg.  Blood started trickling down to his ankle.  Niko retrieved the wooden pole Tren had wielded and gave it to Keenam to use.

“My pack,” Keenam said.  He pointed to it.  “Your vidpad’s in it, Tren.  They turned it on and saw some of the vids.  Jonen told me he was going to come looking for Hiera.”

Tren dashed to get the pack.  He pulled the flap open and looked in.  The vidpad was there.  He looked concerned when he rejoined Keenam.  Hiera couldn’t possibly defend itself against crazed Path Holders.

The comm on Niko’s still-doffed jacket beeped.  He quickly zeroed in on it and grabbed it.  “Savaidras, this is Hittan,” he heard.  “What’s your status?”

Niko pressed the button then looked up, scanning the sky.  “I’m okay.  There are two others with me.  I need medivac for both of them.  Where are you?”

“Estimate fifteen minutes from your present position.  Two others?  Who?”

“Friends.  When you get here fly over the town.  If you see anyone running away, feel free to blast them.  They attacked us.  We’re in the middle of an intersection.”  Niko quickly surveyed the space.  “There’s enough room to land.”

“Roger.  Out.”

Tren had been listening.  Rescue was on its way.  “Our xoss!” he told Niko.

“We can’t bring them onboard,” Niko told him as he donned his jacket.

“No, the Path Holders will take them.  They’re more valuable than you know.”

Niko had to think fast.  “Maybe we can hide them.”  He realized that was a ridiculous idea.  The animals were as wide as an elephant although only half as tall.

“Where?” Tren asked him.

“Maybe we can, uh, tie them up a couple of streets away from here.  What do they eat?  There’s no water nearby.”

“Okay,” Tren said.  What else could they do on such short notice?

As they took the reins, Tren told him they could go up to two days without food or a drop of water.  Niko couldn’t help but wonder what Dr. Sepp and Ezic would say when they discovered he was handling one of the native creatures like he owned it.

A few minutes later, the three beasts were tied up between two buildings well away from the knocked out Path Holders.  They could only hope that when the elders returned they would only be interested in retrieving their fallen comrades and not bother looking for the animals.

*

The shuttle arrived shortly after they returned to Keenam.  Tren and Keenam’s mouths were agape at seeing it.  As it landed, Niko saw the commander through the deflection screen and waved at him.  The back of the shuttle opened moments after systems were shut off.  Out came three people.

“Savaidras, who are these people?” the commander asked.  He had his weapon drawn.  Behind him were Unell and Ezic, their weapons at the ready, too.  Everyone looked positively menacing in their safe suits, helmets, sunglasses and gloved hands.

“Stand down,” Niko told them.  “They’re friends.  Arasen’s Path Holders attacked us.  These guys are not Path Holders.  I’ll explain everything later.  Look, everyone’s been hurt, including me.  We got into a wicked fight.  We’re gonna need the med chamber.  Keenam here is losing blood.”

“So, they are Path Holders!” the commander exclaimed.  He observed Keenam holding his calf.  “Holy crap.  What is it with bloody messes today?  Ezic.  Get the med kit.”

“I didn’t dare pull the arrow out,” Niko told him.

“And I’m not going to either.  Heskid can deal with it.”

While the rest of the men boarded the shuttle, Niko told Hittan how Elder Wesha had been killed.  They took a look at the four other unconscious elders.  Hittan knelt to examine Jonen last.

“Don’t help any of them,” Niko told him.

“They’re hurt,” the commander told him bluntly.

“That one,” he pointed to Kamay, “nearly killed Keenam.  And that one,” he said, pointing at Jonen, “tried to kill Trenekis.  Who knows which one blasted the shuttle or shot Arita.  Their friends will come back for them.”

“Captain’s not gonna like this.  They’re humans.”

Niko grunted.  “More like animals.  My friends get priority.  You’re gonna have to trust me on this.”

“I trusted you to stay behind and look what happened.”

“Commander, we can quibble about this later,” Niko implored.  “We have to get out of here before they come back and start shooting again.”

Hittan hesitated for a moment then threw up his hands.  “All right.”

They returned to the shuttle and the hatch was closed.

Tren’s hand was carefully wrapped in bandages while Keenam’s leg was cleaned up and bandaged as best they could around the arrow.  One of the compression chairs in the back row was pulled out flat.  Unell got two headrest pillows and placed them under Keenam’s leg, elevating it.  Niko felt like he was going to vomit but was thankful that the gut punch was the only injury he had sustained.

Once everyone was secure, the commander went through his lift off sequence.  “Farwinds, this is Cloud Hopper,” Hittan said into the comm.

“Farwinds, over,” Takashi returned.

“Hittan here.  I’ve got Savaidras.  Have Dr. Heskid ready the med chamber.  I have other casualties.”

“Was that a plural?  You were attacked again?”

“No.  Savaidras had some helpers who were mauled in a fight.  I’m bringing them aboard for medical attention.”

“Roger.  Orbital sync is go in sixteen minutes.  Expecting your arrival in... forty-eight minutes if you make that mark.  Don’t miss it.  Next orbital sync will be eighty-two minutes.  Uh, commander, hold a sec.”  There was a pause.  “Captain wants a report from Savaidras.  Is he able to respond?”

The commander turned his head.  “Savaidras, get up here.  Captain wants his report.”

Niko came forward and sat in the co-pilot seat.  He pressed a comm into his ear and started at the beginning, telling him everything he knew as Trenekis had explained it, up until they were rescued.

Several rows back, Tren’s compression chair was tilted back slightly so he could rest comfortably.  There were no view ports he could look out.  All he could see was part of the front deflection screen with nondescript blue sky and layers of clouds going by rapidly as they lifted upward.  As he kept his attention on it, he noticed it was quickly turning darker outside.  The drugs they had given him for the pain made it seem like he was in a vivid hypnagogic reverie.  He looked down at his bandaged hand.  Tears sprang out of the corners of his eyes.  He was sore, his hand still throbbed despite the pills, and he couldn’t help but feel sorry for Keenam having an arrow in his leg.  An arrow!  It was awful thinking about it.  And Jonen.  His very own brother was literally a crazed maniac who cared only that he wasn’t a Path Holder.  No wonder his father fled with Counselor Brem and the others decades ago.  No wonder Hierans had kept themselves hidden from Kelesat for so long.  He had learned first hand that The Path was nothing more than mindless adherence to fanaticism.  He felt alternately grief-stricken that he had had to knock Jonen out and relieved that he himself hadn’t been killed – because he had nearly given up.  He had been so close.  He had been down to his last play.  Telling Jonen he was Maros was all he had left.

Events from his childhood pushed those thoughts away.  The threads of his life were weaving together into a long colorful tapestry, right this minute in this marvelous sky ship.  Why it was happening, he couldn’t say.  Fragments of he and Keenam being together when they were younger flitted by.  Waves of bliss mixed with the aching he always felt at having to keep their intimacy a guarded secret.  The strange emptiness he felt when he kissed Falla for the first time.  His two fumbled attempts at having sex with her, knowing it was never going to feel right to him.  The awful knowing he was doomed to fake his way through their marriage.  The remarkable talk with his father when he was thirteen when he was told him he was loved more than he could possibly know; and the warmth Tren felt knowing that his family was a foundation he could never replace.  The constant source of patience and compassion his mother ceaselessly offered him even when he was such an exasperation to her, as he had been so often, far more often than anyone else he knew.  The day he first recognized he loved Counselor Brem like an uncle.  When he was given the vidpad and discovered it held secrets, delicious, wonderful secrets, utterly unlike the one that gnawed inside him, never to be talked about except with Keenam.  Tren’s entire life cascaded down on him, compressing into a few seconds.

Then it stopped.

In its place was when Niko looked inside him like a magician and knew he was... gay, then touched his face in that incredibly sensuous way back in the nearly fallen down administrative building only a few hours ago.  It was a moment of revelation unparalleled in his short life, a moment that seemed to belong to someone else.  That passed and was replaced by the breathless kiss he had with Niko inside that doorway.  A kiss from someone he barely knew, yet was attracted to in a way that was off any scale he cared to imagine.  It too passed and was replaced by that moment of desire that nearly paralleled in intensity the fear he felt when Niko’s jacket had been so roughly pulled off after he challenged Jonen’s words.  Finally, the seconds that passed by, seemingly in slow motion, when Niko deftly shot the elders wielding their deadly arrows and saved him and Keenam.

It defied logic that Niko even existed.  He had descended from an impossibly vast sky.  Niko was handsome beyond belief.  Niko was brave beyond anyone he’d ever known before.  And, Niko told him there were others like them!

A warmth spread through Tren, which broke through a tangle of cobwebs that seemed to have been in his head from time immemorial. He drew in a deep breath, feeling the far-off pain of the blow to his back, yet he was able to ignore it.  He drew in another deep breath, feeling a spreading joy inside himself he’d never experienced before.

Something inside had shifted.

Something deep inside was different now.

Maybe it was the drugs, or maybe it was the huge sweeping emotions that were carrying him along.  Perhaps it was both.  It didn’t matter though.  Nothing would ever be the same because of Niko, the handsome man from Eridanus Prime.

Niko appeared and plopped down beside him, breaking Tren’s reverie.  “That was a brilliant move telling Jonen you’re his brother.  How did you come up with that?  How did you know that would make him hesitate?”

Tren reached out for Niko’s hand.  A smile drew across Tren’s face.  He held his lower lip between his teeth, trying to contain surging emotions.  He was just thinking about Niko and he had appeared beside him, smiling down at him, complimenting him.

Niko glanced left, then right.  He pursed his lips then kissed the air.  “That was for you,” he whispered, an impish grin on his face.  “You’re good-lookin’ even when you’re covered with dust and blood.”

“Niko.  You have to know something,” Tren said, just barely above a whisper.  His voice seemed far away yet held steadfast.  It was the drugs.  They were helping in more ways than one.

Niko unlatched his jacket buckles and sat back heavily into the compression chair next to Tren.  He raised the arms of the chairs so he could scoot closer to him.  “What is it?” Niko asked.  The environmental controls were working overtime.  There were far too many unwashed bodies on board in close quarters, yet Niko found the earthy musky smell that emanated from Tren especially exhilarating.

Niko shouldn’t have done that.  He shouldn’t have unbuckled his jacket to reveal the outline of his handsome torso again.  The thin white shirt was molded to the round contour of his pecs.  Tren could see the tiny bump of Niko’s left nipple.  He could see three bands of muscles running across his abdomen even through the shirt’s wrinkles.

“I wasn’t lying,” Tren said.  He reached out with his good hand and rubbed the back of his fingers against Niko’s shirt, feeling electricity from that simple action, a connection he’d never known was possible.  Feeling utterly, wonderfully safe.  He looked Niko in the eye.

“About what?”  Niko asked, his brow furrowed.

“I told Jonen the truth.”

“What?” Niko said aloud, suddenly totally alarmed.  Unell heard Niko and looked over at him.  Niko waved him off.  Then back to Tren.  “You said you didn’t know him!”

“I don’t,” Tren said.  It was as if someone else were speaking the words for him.  He told Niko how he had been informed about being Arasen’s son just before they left Hiera.  “We were separated when I was an infant.  Just like I told him.”

“You’re not thinking straight.  The drugs...”

“No, Niko.  I found out just this morning that I had an older brother.  Just after we came to the city.”  He explained their discovery of the statue in the Sanctuary.  “I had no idea I would ever meet him.  We were only going to be there for a day, maybe two.  It was a terrible coincidence we ever met.”

“You shouldn’t have told me that.  This is not good,” Niko said as he shook his head.

“Niko.  I’m not him.  I never knew him.”

“That’s not it, Tren.  It’s your DNA.  That’s all that matters in my culture.  Just bringing you aboard our ship....  What have I done?”

Tren held Niko’s hand tightly, alarmed at this sudden turnaround.  “You saved me, Niko.  That’s what you did.  You saved Keenam.”  Tren couldn’t believe what he was hearing.  “Please don’t hate me.”  Tren could no longer look at him.  He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to hold back emotion.

“What?  I don’t hate you.  Look at me.”

Tren slowly turned his head and looked at him.

“I-I didn’t mean it like that, honest.”  Yet Niko already knew the discussion he had to have with the captain and Dr. Heskid after they docked with the Farwinds.

*

The shuttle was nearly perfectly silent inside as they accelerated out of the atmosphere, matched the ship’s orbit, then arrived at precisely the time Lt. Takashi had relayed.

Trenekis was only vaguely aware of being helped up out of the compression chair and led off the shuttle.  He was very aware that whatever drugs he’d been given, they were totally unlike twel water.  He didn’t feel drunk but he couldn’t exactly tell where he was.  He was more than aware that Niko had his arm around him though, holding on to him, never leaving his side.  He glanced over at Keenam being laid onto a floating stretcher out of the shuttle bay.  He marveled at the thin floating cot-like device.  It reminded him of the a-grav crate they had brought with them.  The a-grav crate!  Somewhere in the back of his mind, he lamented its loss.  He would never be able to put it into the cavern back in Hiera because it had been left behind in the city, scattered all over the dead dusty road.

*

Tren came to full consciousness in a strange room, lying on a raised bed.  He immediately knew he was in a medical clinic.  Keenam was next to him on a similar bed.  Both were covered with sheets.

“Trenekis,” Dr. Heskid said, smiling broadly down at him.  He was standing next to Tren looking at a display panel on the wall.

“Who are you?”

“I’m the ship’s doctor.  Name’s Heskid.  I’ll get Savaidras.  He asked me to notify him as soon as you woke up.”

The doctor spoke into his comm.  Part of it was in his ear.  From it, a small wire hovered over his cheek.  Tren thought it was funny that a tiny wire was able to conduct sound in such a way, then realized there were many marvelous things in the vidpad he’d never actually seen examples of in real life.  This was another one of those things.

Just as Niko arrived, Keenam stirred, groaned and looked around.  “Tren, where are we?” he asked.

Niko answered him.  “You’re aboard our ship, the PSS Farwinds.”

“We’re in orbit?”  Keenam asked.

Niko nodded.

“See Keenam, I told you one day I’d find a way to get into orbit!”  Tren exclaimed.

“Amazing,” Keenam replied.  “I’m sorry about your telescope,” he added.  “I’ll make you another one.”

“You made it?”  Niko asked.

Keenam nodded.  “The lenses.  Tren loves the night sky.”

KAI materialized next to Dr. Heskid, startling both Tren and Keenam.

“Sorry,” Niko told them.  “That’s KAI.”

“KAI?”  Keenam asked.

“The ship’s computer.  She knows everything that happens on board.”  He grinned.  “Well, almost everything.”

KAI spoke.  “I have the report, doctor.”

“Go ahead,” Heskid said.

“As you can see, the patients have made a full recovery.  Latest bioscans show that the med chamber successfully repaired all cellular damage and replaced Keenam’s lost blood.”  KAI unceremoniously dematerialized.

Keenam pulled the thin sheet off his leg.  That’s when he realized he wasn’t wearing his clothes.  Instead, he was covered in a thin one-piece gown.  He pulled the gown up and felt his calf.  There was a red spot where the arrow had pierced the skin, but he couldn’t find evidence it had actually done so.  He ventured to squeeze the area.  It wasn’t even sore.

Tren inspected his hand, only now realizing it wasn’t bandaged anymore.  The epidermis was red in a wide area but he could find no evidence Jonen had done any damage, too.  He opened and closed his fist several times.  It wasn’t stiff or sore.  He arched his back then felt the back of his thigh.  He suspected there weren’t even bruises.  His eyes lit up.  “What is this med chamber?”  he asked.  “Can it heal tumors?”

The captain walked in at that moment.  He turned to the boys.  “I was informed that our visitors are awake.  I’m the captain of this ship.  Name’s Abarru.”  He shook their hands as they exchanged greetings.

“Uh, excuse us,” Dr. Heskid said once the greetings were done.  “Savaidras, come with us.  Boys, we’ll be right back.”  He, the captain and Niko retreated to the doctor’s office adjacent to the medical bay.  The door slid shut, leaving Tren and Keenam alone.  Tren and Keenam could see them through a narrow ceiling-height window but could hear nothing.

Tren got off the med bed and took in everything in the well-appointed sickbay.  Being in such a well-lit enclosed place was a novelty.  He briefly picked up an unidentifiable object from a nearby cart, turned it over to look at it, then put it back down exactly as he found it.  All along one of the walls were drawers and glass-door cabinets filled with objects he couldn’t possibly identify.  A shiver briefly ran up his back, making him shudder.  This room was filled with medical tek, completely filled!  This little space made the maintenance shop he worked in look absolutely primitive in comparison.  Bosh had probably never even seen anything like this in decades.  He knew Bosh lived on Eridanus Colony years ago.  Perhaps he had been around such tek before.  The thought of what Hiera didn’t have made him horribly anxious.  They were slowly but surely losing the last remnants of what had been taken out of the city so long ago.

*

“I have the results,” Dr. Heskid told the captain and Niko as he glanced down at the flimsy he was holding.

“And?” Niko asked.

“Keenam’s completely clean.  Trenekis is another story,” he said as he shook his head slightly.  “Switch analysis shows three on and two off segments.  He doesn’t have the full-blown N1 Expression.  The specific locations of the on segments results in what’s called the primary N1 variant. Ninety-two percent of the time it results in intense emotional responses to major stimuli, along with unusually high intelligence.  If he were part of our society and were to experience a high quantity of overly emotional states, they could easily be modified using a standard medical harmonic field, and pharmas, of course.  No fanaticism imprints are indicated.  Luck of the genetic draw, gentlemen.  Regardless, he’s a carrier of illegal genes.  The primary variant is fine for the owner and society, but can’t be passed on to children.”

“Yes!” Niko exclaimed.  He literally slapped the man on the back, despite the less than perfect news.

“Good enough,” the captain said.  “They can stay on board for the night, but they go back in the morning.”

“Sir, I have a request,” Niko quickly said to the captain.

“Go ahead.”

“Is it okay if Trenekis shares my quarters?”

“We have empty quarters.”

“It’s not that.  He’s gay.  He’s never been around anyone else who’s gay.  I, uh, have some things to explain to him.”

The captain grinned.  No wonder Niko had been so adamant about the test.  “Only if he agrees.”

“I have no doubt he will.  Thank you, sir.”

The men exited the doctor’s office and returned to sickbay.

Tren went right up to the doctor, breathless, nearly manic.  “Please Dr. Heskid.  You have to help us.”

Keenam was right next to him.  “You have to,” he pleaded.

“With what?” the captain asked.

The boys explained why they were in the city in the first place.  They implored them for assistance in helping the counselor.  After hearing the boys out, Dr. Heskid could offer no reason why he couldn’t help them.  The captain told them yes as well, with one caveat.  “My main concern is our arrival in Hiera.  We have no idea how we’ll be greeted.”

Tren immediately assuaged any fears he might have about it.  “Everyone knows us.  If we talk to the other counselors and our parents, no one would turn you away, especially not after you were able to heal us so quickly.”

“All right.  We’ll see in the morning,” the captain told the boys.  “You two need to be properly cleaned up.  I will not have stinking men on my ship.”  Then to Niko, “Have KAI make them a shipboard jumper.  Doctor, where are their clothes?”

The doctor pointed to a bin next to his office door.  “In those bags.”

The captain nodded, then to Niko.  “Be prepared to board the shuttle at 0630 tomorrow.  We’ll bring them back to their village and get this Counselor Brem if he’s willing to come up here.  But I want this made perfectly clear.  I can’t and won’t force the man to be treated on board the ship.”

“I’ll do my best on the surface,” the doctor interjected.

“It’s late,” the captain told Niko.  “Get our guests quartered.”

Niko informed the boys that their belongings would remain in sickbay and would be transferred to the shuttle in the morning.  He then took them to the crew section, avoiding as many of them as possible because of how they were dressed.  Tren found it odd walking the corridors of a strange ship wearing only a thin gown and slippers.

The Farwinds had three empty cabins.  Niko showed Keenam to his, told him how the bathroom shower worked and how to use the controls on the wall panel.  Niko was impressed that Keenam had no trouble understanding any of it.  But when Niko asked KAI to appear, it startled them yet again.  She measured Keenam’s proportions and a few minutes later, Niko plucked a shipboard jumper from the cabin’s clothing bin.  It was still warm from having just been manufactured.

“Another perfect fit,” Niko told Keenam as he held it up.  “Think you’ll be okay if I leave you alone?”

Keenam nodded.

“If you get hungry, just ask out loud for KAI.  She’ll have whatever you want ready in the food bin over here.  Oh, I guess she might not know any of the foods you eat.  Uh, just ask her what’s available and have her describe it if you’re not sure.  You can ask her anything, actually.”  He turned to Tren.  “This way.”

Keenam grabbed Trenekis and hugged him.  Tren didn’t want to let go, ever, but he had to.  Even he could tell that they were getting a little ripe.

They exited Keenam’s room and continued down the corridor.  Niko stopped at one of the closed doors.  He pressed the button on the doorframe and extended his hand as the door opened.  Tren entered the cabin with Niko right behind him.

“This room’s occupied,” Tren told him as he looked around.  The signs were all there: clothes on a bureau, and personal effects next to the sink to the left and on top of a bag on the floor.

“It’s mine.  I like to share.”

Tren blushed.  “Is this normal where you come from?”

“Normal enough for me.  I guess I’ll have to bring you up to speed on a few things about my culture.  Being gay’s no secret, Tren.  Some guys like guys.  That’s just the way it is.”

He called up KAI, who measured Tren for a shipboard jumper, too.  Niko pulled it out of the clothing bin and set it on the bed.  He had Tren use the shower first.  Tren dropped his sickbay gown.  Niko couldn’t help but take in Tren’s furry rear end, his slim waist, and those firm thighs before he stepped into the compartment.

Warm water ran down Tren’s body, washing a nightmare away.  It was the perfect temperature.  He had never been under a shower head this magnificent before either.  After drying off, he wrapped the towel around his waist.  Niko showed him how to use his shaver.  It was totally unlike his perfectly honed obsidian razor.  Tren had no idea such fine mechanical shavers even existed.

Niko was next in the shower while Tren shaved.  As soon as he was done, Niko also wrapped the towel around his waist.  He went to his bed and beckoned Trenekis with his finger.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have shaved,” Niko told him.  “You looked way cute with that beard.”  He studied Tren’s face momentarily.  “I have to tell you something.”

Tren sat down next to him.  “What?”

“Your father and my grandfather knew each other quite well.”

“Please don’t say he’s my father,” Tren looked away as he shook his head.  “I feel sick even thinking about it.”

“Sorry.  Your... biological father.”

Tren nodded.  That was okay.

“My grandfather opposed Arasen in an election for Colonial Director a couple of years before Arasen came here.  That was before the man ordered his followers to blow out the airlocks in my city.”

“Airlocks?”

“Maybe no one told you the details about Eridanus Prime.  The planet’s young and hasn’t had enough time to develop an oxygen-rich atmosphere, so the cities are domed.  Nearly twenty-one thousand people suffocated because of that terrorist act.  After word got back to Earth about what happened, they passed a law to prevent the emigration of people with certain genetic traits.  One of those is called the N1 Expression.  It’s a set of genetic markers that codes for religious fanaticism.  Humanity’s had it for tens of thousands of years, maybe longer.  But when it became clear that leaving it unregulated could potentially bring an entire planet to its knees, the, uh, Earth Planetary Council make it mandatory that no one could emigrate to a colony world if they had it.  Anyone who was already on a colony world wasn’t allowed to have children.  Anyone who already had children who also had the trait was sterilized.  Everyone, and I mean everyone, was tested.  You can’t imagine the outcry that caused.  Over four hundred thousand people died in riots after the law was put into effect.  Funny how it just proved the point, huh?  Since then it’s cut down on a lot of bizarre behavior, but not all of it, of course.”

Tren thought about it for a moment.  A horrified look crept over his face.  “So, you’re saying Arasen had the N1.  That means I have it!”

Niko shook his head, then reached out and took Tren’s hand.  “Nope.  That’s why I went into such detail about it. You’ve got what’s called the primary variant.  You’re a carrier and wouldn’t be allowed to pass the gene according to our law.  I had Dr. Heskid check while you were in sickbay.  Keenam doesn’t have it either.  It’s pretty obvious Jonen has it though.”

Trenekis drew in a huge breath and let it go; glad he was ‘okay’, even if in a way he didn’t fully understand.

“You have no idea how relieved I was to hear that,” Niko told him.  He stood and motioned for Trenekis to stand up, too.  Niko draped his forearms over Tren’s shoulders.  They stood face-to-face.  Tren tentatively, then firmly held Niko by the waist, reveling in the feel of his freshly washed skin.  Niko nuzzled Tren’s nose against his, his eyes closed.  Tren’s heartbeat ramped up as he felt inexorably drawn to Niko’s sensual touch.

“Sorry.  Can’t help it.  I’ll... stop,” Niko whispered.

“No,” Tren whispered back.  “Don’t.”

Niko clasped his fingers together behind Tren’s head and sensuously kissed him, snaked his tongue across Tren’s lips, then inside his mouth.  His towel slowly fell to the floor revealing his fully hard penis.  Tren’s towel fell to the floor, too.  Their erections slid against each other’s bellies as they continued to lock lips.  The heat of their bodies grew.  Tongues explored necks, armpits.  The sound of their breathing filled the cabin.  They pressed harder and harder against each other, moaning as they came at very nearly the same instant, making a sticky mess between them.

Niko reached back and quickly turned down the bed covers.  He pushed Tren backward onto the bed.  Tren’s feet were still touching the floor.  Niko reached down for one of the towels.  He wiped himself up, then carefully wiped away what looked like several deciliters of sticky goo from Tren’s abdomen.  He held Tren’s still-stiff penis in his hand as he wiped, admiring its beautiful curve and the sizable balls.  He tossed the towel to the floor then told the lights to turn off.  Tren moved to the pillow end of the bed.  Niko got in next to him and pulled the sheet up.  “Sorry about that.  I should’ve stopped,” Niko told him with a grin.

Tren chuckled.

Several tiny dim lights on a panel in the wall filled the room with a diffused green glow.  Niko’s erection refused to subside as he snuggled behind Trenekis.  Tren’s penis refused to soften either.

Despite being worn out, Niko slid his hand up and down Tren’s hairy thigh and buttock.  He made all sorts of pleasurable sounds in Tren’s ear as Tren’s desire rose again and wouldn’t relinquish control.

“I’ll stop,” Niko whispered.

“No,” Tren whispered back.

The shift Tren felt on the shuttle had solidified.  Harsh emotions that had always dogged him, warring in his mind with endless battles, seemed to be ebbing by their own volition, their foundation dissolving.  Everything was different, and now he knew why.  He had never known anyone else like himself, someone who only preferred males instead of females.  A huge smile crossed his face.  Calm.  He felt more tranquil than he’d ever felt in his life.  Fulfilled.  He felt he had been on a journey forever and finally knew exactly where he was going.  Indeed, he was almost ‘there’ now.  He wanted Niko to stay hard forever.  He wanted to stay hard forever.

Twenty minutes later, after relishing every moment of the handsome naked boy who kept touching him in exactly the right way, after replaying their orgasms in his head half a dozen times, after nearly re-experiencing it too, Tren felt Niko’s hands slow, then stop.  Niko re-adjusted his position, resting a hand on Tren’s bicep and an arm under Tren’s pillow, his still-rigid penis between Tren’s buttocks.

Tren wished time would slow down so he could savor the seconds more finely, more minutely.  Finally, he felt even breathing behind him.  Niko’s hand finally went totally limp.  The pulsating bar of steel sliding against his rump slowly melted.  With a feeling of belonging that burned so brightly, so intensely inside him, that he only now recognized its welcomed message, Tren fell asleep.  Thankful, grateful, at peace.

Chapter 23

Tren woke with a start.  The dream had seemed so real.  The maintenance shed had been torn down because there was no tek left in Hiera.  His father told him there was much to be done making resins, soaps, dyes, and glues.  That type of work would become even more needed, now that Trenekis himself had placed the last item in storage.  The dream was fading fast.

Now that he was fully awake, Tren became aware of Niko’s soft breathing behind him.  He looked up at the panel on the wall.  The dimly lit clock told him it was three hours before they had to officially be back on the surface.

Moving slowly so as not to wake him, Tren turned onto his back.  In his sleep Niko’s hand moved.  It came to a rest in the middle of Tren’s chest.  Tren felt emotion swelling inside him.  He placed a hand on top of Niko’s.  That hand was part of an enormous anchor of certainty he had never known before.  It took him all of two seconds to make his decision.  Satisfied, sleep overcame him again a moment later.

*

Niko woke Trenekis with a kiss on the cheek.  “Hey, cutie,” he said.

The room was still dark.  Tren glanced at the clock.  It was 0445.

“The lights come on in fifteen minutes,” Niko told him.

Both got up, went to the head, then got back into bed.  Tren lay on his back while Niko straddled his middle.  He bent forward to nuzzle Tren’s neck with his nose, then ran his hands up and down Tren’s smooth tanned shoulders and biceps.  By that time, both of them were sporting fierce erections, but Niko’s intention wasn’t sex.  He only wanted to feel Tren’s naked body, to be as close to him as possible.

Tren could barely believe this was still happening.  As much as he enjoyed being naked with Keenam, there was something lacking when they were together.  Keenam was a terribly complicated puzzle, forever missing a key piece.  Just being with Niko for these few hours told Tren precisely why he never found the missing piece.  It was all contained in this moment, this intense intimacy and Niko oozing pure masculine lust for him.  Keenam wasn’t like that.  He and Keenam’s relationship had been a curiously satisfying friendship punctuated with over a hundred episodes of impassioned sexual release.  Tren had kept count.  But this felt entirely different.  It was as if another half of himself, missing forever, had been found.  Tren still marveled at how Niko had so easily understood who he was after only a few minutes, how he had casually offered his cabin, his bed, even his body, and expected Tren to agree.  There was a naturalness to Niko he had never felt with anyone else, not even with Keenam.  This couldn’t and wouldn’t happen in Hiera.

Everything was different now.  Everything.

“Niko, I have to ask you something.”

“If it’s for a kiss, you don’t have to ask.”

Tren shook his head.  “It’s something you won’t be able to do but I have to ask anyway.”

Niko slid off Tren and settled himself to his side.  He propped his head up on his palm.  “Shoot.”

“Take me with you.”

Even in the semi-darkness Tren could see Niko’s eyes darting back and forth to Tren’s.  “You’re serious.”

Tren nodded.  “I can’t believe I’m even saying it but I-I don’t belong there anymore.  I can’t stay in Hiera.  Or on Ithos.”  Tren gave him more detail about his responsibilities in the maintenance shed, how his relationship with Keenam had had to end, and about his father and the important work he did in the village.  “I love my family, Niko, more than anything.  Keenam is like my brother.  But he’s married.  He has his own family.  He and I can’t be... like we were.  Hiera can’t keep me.  That’s what I meant by being banished.  As much as I know my parents love me, even they might not understand this.  No one can be like us where I live.  It doesn’t... work for us.”

All throughout Tren’s explanation, Niko didn’t say a word.  Tren could see he was deep in thought, not even flinching at his story.  He watched Niko reel in the last words, working on them.  He was quiet for a while.

“I knew you were gonna be trouble,” Niko told him with a wry grin.

“I shouldn’t have said anything,” Tren said, looking away, suddenly angry at himself.

“Silly boy.  It’s not that.  I was going to ask you if you wanted to come back to my planet with me.”

“You what?”  Tren turned his head back, his eyes wide in astonishment.

Niko pressed a finger to Tren’s lips.  “I’m serious.  Besides, do you have any idea the sensation you would make with my people?  You’re a link to history.  Your personal testimony can help fill in a gap in our past.  I’ll have to present a solid case to the captain, but I can’t imagine why he would outright deny you passage back to Eridanus Prime.”

“But I have Arasen’s genes.”

“As you and Dr. Heskid have already proven, you are not like Arasen.  I saw it with my own eyes, Tren.  You were down there to help your, uh, uncle.  Jonen was there to kill anyone who didn’t resemble a Path Holder.  You couldn’t be a more different person than Arasen or Jonen.  That’s what I’ll tell my dad.”

“Why does he matter?”

“There’s something you need to know about me.”

At that moment, the lights rose slightly, filling the room with a soft glow.

“They’ll come up to full brightness in a few minutes.  That’s how it works,” Niko told him.  “My dad’s, uh, the planetary Director-in-Chief.”

“Is that like... the leader?” he asked.  “Of the whole planet?”

“Uh, huh,” Niko told him.  The lights started to steadily brighten.  “Here’s the deal, Tren,” he continued, as they both got up and went to the sink, neither bothering to dress.  Tren leaned on the counter as Niko started to shave.  “My family has a long history of being in various political positions.  My father’s been in politics his entire adult life.  I have an aunt, two uncles, a first cousin and a niece in various branches of our planetary government.  I was in line to do that, too.  I started down that road.  I went to the right school, was in the right social circles; I even had the right boyfriend, who was approved by my father.  But I just couldn’t do it.  I can’t live my life for politics.  I couldn’t see myself behind a desk, being a bureaucrat, having to deal with other politicians, and living inside a dome until I died.

“No one lives outside the domes, Tren, but a lot of us go Outside all the time.  Since you have to bring oxygen with you, it’s a huge pain.  It’s kinda like scuba diving on Earth.”

“What’s scuba diving?”

“Swimming underwater with life support gear.”

“Then why do you do it?”

“Because there’s life out there.  Even though my planet’s young, it’s filled with plants and animals, like on Ithos.”  Niko gave him a thumbnail sketch of the Outdoor Adventurers group he used to belong to.  “Virtually the entire surface is uninhabited.  Well, by people, that is.”

“Can’t you move to Earth?”

Niko looked like he had just tasted something awful.  “That’s not gonna happen.  But being Outside is why I took up geology.  That’s why I joined the Planetary Survey Service.  I wanted to be Outside a lot more often, without having to bring life support.  It does become a bit bothersome.  You can only tolerate using an oxy-mask for so long before you want to rip the damn thing off.”

Suddenly, Tren got it.  “Your father doesn’t approve of you.”

Niko pulled the shaver off his chin and nodded.  “He’s kinda stubborn sometimes.  I’m a big boy though.  I make my own decisions.”

“I make my own decisions,” Tren echoed as he nodded.  “Niko, I have to leave Ithos.”

“And I want you to come back with me even though it would seriously complicate my father’s life.  And mine.”  Niko shook his head.  “Damn.  Nothing’s ever simple.  Ever.”  Niko sounded hurt.

“I thought you said gay was part of your culture.”

“Gay, yes.  The Vatch legacy, no.  If it gets out that you and I are in any sort of relationship, the scandal would be enormous.”

“Relationship!”  Tren said, alarmed.

“I know we just met, but being in the survey service proved to me one important thing.  I-I do best when I’m with someone.”  He placed his hand on Tren’s hips and slid them up and down against his skin momentarily.  “I can’t let you get away.  Not just yet.  Not after knowing what you’re capable of.  After seeing how un-befucking-lievably brave you are.  How cute you are.  No possible way am I letting all that go.  Plus, I can tell we like each other.  I certainly like you.”

“I like you, Niko.  You have no idea how much.  But we can’t be in a relationship.  I don’t know anything about you.  You don’t really know me.  I come from a village!  You have a planet full of-of gay boys where you come from.  You know things I know nothing about.  There’s my-my lineage.  My DNA carries something terrible.  Even I know we’re mis-matched.”

Niko moved his hands up to onto Tren’s shoulders and stared into his eyes.  “Slow down there, mister.  I didn’t say we were going to have children.  Look, we’re gonna have plenty of time to get to know each other.  And I don’t think I’d worry about what you don’t know.  Aural learning field technology will bring you up to speed in, oh, probably a year.”  He chuckled.  “You’re lucky you have the primary variant.  It gives you certain advantages, ones I admit I’m sorta jealous of.  And to tell you the truth, I’ve never met anyone as good-looking as you.

“Look, you want to leave Ithos and I’d like you to come with me.  That’s a start.  If it doesn’t work, well... we’ll talk about that when it happens.”  He glanced down at Tren’s penis and grinned.  It had started to swell.

Niko let go of him and quickly finished shaving his chin.  He handed the shaver to Tren, then stepped over to the shower stall to start the water.

Trenekis felt bewildered, yet enormously relieved.  Niko had suggested ways it would work out.  He had a lot to learn about the guy, he realized.

*

Niko and Tren went to Keenam’s quarters and retrieved him before heading to the mess hall.  There, the senior scientists, a lot of the crew, and the other guards had lots of questions.  Tren and Keenam tried their best to answer as much as they could as they ate a hearty breakfast.

A half-hour later, the shuttle was ready.  Commander Hittan took his pilot’s seat.  Dr. Heskid told the captain that if Arita felt up to it, he could co-pilot.  Arita insisted.  He climbed aboard after the commander and strapped in after being introduced to the boys.  The doctor followed him.  Niko, Unell and Ezic were next, then the full compliment of senior scientists.  Tren and Keenam took the seats at the rear of the shuttle.  Every seat in the shuttle was occupied this trip.  No one was wearing menacing-looking safe suits.  This was to be a meet and greet.

Their first stop though was back to the abandoned city.  A quick look around the intersection proved that the Path Holders had indeed come back and collected their wounded and dead.

Keenam’s concern for their xoss beasts had kept him up part of the night.  The commander hovered the shuttle over where they had been tied up.  They were still there, much to Keenam’s relief.  The boys asked to land so they could cut hoyert grass for them.  There were several large patches in one of the nearby open spaces.  It grew as a weed nearly anywhere.  A half hour later, after they had collected a large pile of it for them, the shuttle lifted off.  Keenam asked if it were possible for their rescuers to fly some villagers to the beasts to ride them back to Hiera.  He refused to volunteer to make that trip.  He made it plain that he had no interest in going to the city again.  Arita told him he’d have maps printed out with directions back to their village once they determined the shortest and safest route.

The bigger concern was whether the Path Holders would return and take the valuable xoss before anyone in Hiera had the chance to bring them back.  The commander raised the shuttle high above the city and ran a sensor sweep in search of them.  He held the shuttle at three hundred meters and slowly made their way in the general direction of village.  Five minutes later, they spotted the Path Holder caravan in a dry wash.  Having seen the shuttle, the elders hid themselves flush against the wall of the wash, leaving the xoss beasts in the open.  It was impossible to determine how many there were, and whether Jonen was with them or had been buried.  Satisfied the Path Holders were on their way home, Hittan told them he was making a beeline to Hiera.  Knowing they were being followed, Tren felt sure the elders wouldn’t be returning to the city any time soon.

The shuttle arrived in Hiera fifteen minutes later.  Tren and Keenam were amazed how fast the shuttle could fly.

*

There were nine people working in the fields at the mouth of Lancel canyon.  Not a single one of them stayed put when they saw the shuttle come in for a quick landing.  They had descended to a spot Trenekis and Keenam agreed would put them close enough to the storage areas and the Rethla glassmaking shop, yet far away so as not to be in full view of everyone in the work area.

The boys’ earlier description about what to expect wasn’t at all off the mark.  The commander chuckled, not ever having seen such a scene before:  people scattering upon a shuttle arrival instead of waiting to greet them!  He decided right away, based on everything he’d heard so far, and now what he saw, that Hiera was not much more than an ancient Renaissance culture sliding backward into the Stone Age.  Seeing people and not bots working fields was cause for alarm, too.  He realized Hiera was indeed not going to last very long at this rate.

Tren and Keenam exited, waving and shouting for the men they saw hiding inside doorways and behind piles of goods.  No one recognized them at first because of their attire.  When it was obvious who they were, some came forward.  Jalteb had already been called.  He saw Keenam almost immediately.  His son’s unorthodox entry and unusual clothing was alarming at first.  He was relieved when he saw that Keenam appeared unharmed, and quickly hugged his son.  Next was Trenekis.

“Someone get Ayvik,” Jalteb called out.  “Where did this ship come from?”

The boys quickly told everyone, then requested that Counselors Litu and Geven come to greet the rest of the men who were still onboard, deliberately out of sight.

Minutes later, a breathless Ayvik and Ellu arrived, along with Keenam’s mother.  They pressed past the throng that had gathered near the shuttle.  Tren saw his parents coming and hugged them.  They had no idea the ordeal he and Keenam had gone through just the day before.  He knew his parents would be stunned to know he had met and was forced to fight his brother.

The news about their unorthodox arrival spread throughout Hiera within fifteen minutes.  The counselors officially invited them into their midst.  Commander Hittan requested a formal meeting with the counselors and any others they cared to call.  They had very important things to discuss.  First topic on the agenda was discussion about the Path Holders they had encountered.

*

“Mother,” Tren said.  “Get Bosh.  Dr. Heskid has something important to tell him.”

Trenekis had never seen Bosh so animated after he met the doctor.  The very idea that working medical equipment was in orbit made him nearly swoon.  “Come,” Bosh told him.  “You can make a proper diagnosis!”

Votig had already been told the news about the strangers’ arrival.  He was having one of his better days and was sitting up comfortably in his bed when they arrived.  Greetings were exchanged.

Tren and his mother, Niko, and Votig’s caretakers waited in Votig’s great room.  Bosh looked on as Dr. Heskid ran his portable diagnostic scanner up and down the front of Votig’s body.  He then pressed a sensor against the inside of his left wrist to get a blood sample reading.  The unit beeped once and the display changed.  The doctor took a moment to read it.  “Hmm.”  He said.

“Well?” Bosh prodded.  Hmm wasn’t good enough.

“Your diagnosis is correct,” the doctor told him.  Then to the sick man, “Counselor, you have metastatic melanoma.  It’s not the skin variety though, and that’s why you didn’t notice it at first.  It started in your lungs and has spread to your adrenal glands.  You’re a lucky man.  A few more weeks and those organs would have started shutting down.  Regardless, the deterioration can be reversed and the cancer easily eradicated from your body.  Everything needed to put it into remission is on board the ship.  I’m prescribing four hours in the med chamber to kill the cancerous tissue, then pharmas for a month to flush the by-products out and prevent a recurrence.  You’re going to need a few more months to completely heal though.  You’d need to keep your activity level down while that happens.  And I won’t be able to treat you unless you agree to come up to our ship.”

Votig’s eyes filled with tears as he pulled the blanket off, then lifted his arms in the air.  The doctor took them and helped the man to his feet.  Votig stepped forward and hugged Dr. Heskid.  “Thank you,” he said.  Overcome with emotion, he was unable to say anything else.

Votig got back in bed while everyone piled out of his home.  The meet and greet wasn’t done yet.  There were other people in the village to visit, some to diagnose as well.  Brem would be taken back on the shuttle later on.  Trenekis and Niko waited for everyone else to leave.  Tren had decided it was only fair that Votig formally meet Niko.  After all, Votig’s condition was the impetus that caused he and Niko to meet in the first place.

“First Guard Niko Savaidras, sir,” Niko said as he held his hand out.  “It’s an honor to meet you.  Trenekis has told me a great deal about you.  Seems you’re an uncle of sorts.”

Votig had a curious look on his face as they shook.  “Did you say Savaidras?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Have you ever heard of a man named Fen Savaidras?”

He knows that name?  Tren wondered, as he stood at the foot of the bed.

Niko was caught off guard.  “Yes, sir.  He was my grandfather.”  He took the stool next to the counselor’s bed and sat on it.

The counselor took Niko’s hand again.  “I’m so sorry, Niko.  I’m so sorry about what I did.”

“What you did?” Niko asked, his brow furrowed.  He glanced up at Trenekis.  This was suddenly quite awkward.

“Do you know about the election?  It was because of me that Fen lost to Arasen.  I rigged it to make sure he would lose.”

“I know all about that time period.  The accusation that the result was rigged was never proven.”

“I’m telling you, then.  I personally made sure Fen would lose.”  Counselor Brem found it particularly difficult to find his voice now.  “Is he still alive?”

“No sir.  He died just before I was born.”

Votig nodded.  “But he lived to be an old man?”

“He was eighty-three when he died.”

“At least he had a reasonably long life.”

“I know all about him.  He’s a part of the history of my planet.”  Niko gave the counselor an extremely brief overview of what happened after Arasen left, and about what had happened in Gagarin City and Kefka.  “He led a lot of people to safety despite what the Path Holders did.  But his political career never recovered.  There were accusations that he deliberately didn’t save more people, his political detractors.”

Counselor Brem looked more pained than Trenekis had ever seen him.  Indeed, Tren looked nearly as pained at this news, too.  He was completely unaware that the man had such a prominent role in Arasen’s – his father’s – life before they came to Ithos.  Secrets.  So many of them were being kept.  Tren wasn’t the only one who had one.  Knowing that, it made what he had to do a lot easier.

Votig looked up.  “Trenekis.  When we discovered who you were, I swore I would right a wrong I had done.  I swore I would make sure you would not grow up to be like him, that his-his sickness would never influence you.”  Brem couldn’t speak for a moment as he gathered his thoughts.  He was clearly emotionally fragile right now.  It was making Niko very uncomfortable.  Votig clutched Niko’s forearm.  “I personally made sure that a good man, a very... good man – this boy’s grandfather – would lose so that Arasen would gain the power I thought he rightfully should have.

“I was so wrong about it, so very wrong.  Niko, if I hadn’t been criminally liable for what took place, Arasen’s rise to power, your grandfather’s misfortune and the deaths of all those people would never have happened.  Please forgive me.”

Niko was very nearly in tears.  This man, who he didn’t even know, was pleading forgiveness for an act that had occurred two generations ago.  “Only by proxy can I do that, sir.  But for what it’s worth, I think you’ve suffered long enough.”

Trenekis had to turn away, afraid he might start weeping.  He left the bedroom and sat on the couch in Votig’s great room.  The events of the last two days had been extraordinarily intense.

*

Dr. Beld and Unell gave their presentations to the Hieran leaders.  There were plenty of places on Ithos that had better water supplies, better food resources and were more temperate.  Each of them was located hundreds, if not thousands, of kilometers from Kelesat.  The Path Holders had no way to travel those vast distances.  Indeed, if it were done properly, the Path Holders would never know the Hierans had been moved.  Until it could be decided how, when, or even if to move Hierans off the planet, the priority was to make sure no one had contact with anyone from Kelesat, as was their current protocol.  But after Tren, Keenam and Niko relayed their story about what happened to them with Jonen and the other elders, determining a viable alternate location for the villagers was given a priority.

“If we move everyone, we’re going to need resources that don’t exist on Ithos,” Counselor Litu said.

The commander answered him.  “It’s been over three-quarters of a century since any, uh, crimes were committed on Eridanus Prime by anyone here, yet it’s possible the statute of limitations may not have been reached.  Yet, I think I can speak for my team, that since you’ve effectively removed yourselves from the influence of that Path Holder village we can make a case to our organization for your re-settlement.  Be aware that those who opt to emigrate to another planet and have the N1 Expression or its variants would have no choice but to agree to our law.  Some would be sterilized or prevented from emigrating to any other planet other than one of our choosing.  The Institute has the resources to handle the legal issues.

“We’re in the beginning phases of colonizing three new planets.  There are massive ships filled with engineers and construction personnel just waiting to get to work.  An entire industry centered around this endeavor is growing pretty rapidly.  Resettling a village full of people is, I’m sure, unprecedented.  But I’m willing to bet there’s enough flexibility in the system; and in our policies and procedures to accommodate this situation.”

There were nods from the survey team.

“We accept the other offer, too,” Counselor Litu told everyone, “of these men who volunteered to stay behind,” he said, as he acknowledged Ezic and Unell, “to provide security for the village until they’re replaced or another group returns from Eridanus Prime to help us move.”

“It’s been a long day,” the commander said as he looked at the time.  “We have a few hours before we need to return to orbit with Counselor Brem and get him to that med chamber.”

“We will have a meal together,” Counselor Litu told everyone.  Instantly, people scattered from the meeting room to prepare lunch.

*

Trenekis and Niko did not attend that lunch.  Instead, they sat with Tren’s family, along with Falla and her parents, and had lunch with them.  Trenekis felt awful about his announcement, but he had to tell them.  Terrified of their response, he was taken completely aback when his father seemed to expect it.

“Tren, there’s no way I could expect you to follow in my footsteps,” Ayvik said.  “You were always much more than resins and glues.  You were born to be a part of the civilization we unfortunately left behind.”

“But-but you can go back,” Trenekis told him.

Ayvik shook his head as he grasped Ellu’s hand.  “We’ve talked about this many times, Tren.  We’ve lived here for over half our lives.  We’re far too old to try to reacquaint ourselves with Eridanus.  Old wounds would be opened that are best left healed.  Something tells me they wouldn’t accept us anyway.  In essence, we have a criminal past.  Because of our association with Arasen and the awful legacy he left there – and here – we would be not much more than pariahs.  Tren, we’re from an era that’s best left with the generation that’s mostly buried now.  According to Dr. Beld, Ithos will still be here long after we’re... gone.”  Ayvik put his arm around Zenna’s shoulder.  “Maybe your sister will leave when the rescue teams come,” he said as he smiled at her.  “Children leave their parents.  That’s just the way it is.”

Tren’s eyes smarted.  The enormity of his decision was catching up with him.  He got up from the table and turned away from them.  He had to go with Niko, but leaving his family behind was going to devastate him. He couldn’t tell him he was gay then just up and leave.  It would hurt and confuse them.  That was not his intention.  Not telling them was the only way.  There was only so much he could tell them anyway.

Falla’s father did most of the talking for his family.  “Well, I’m not all that surprised that Tren wants to leave.  Falla will take another boy.  She’s pretty and her Age of Inclusion ceremony hasn’t taken place yet.  I see no reason why that can’t be worked out the right way.”  Falla’s mother didn’t look happy about it at all.  She expected their families to blend together as expected.

Trenekis took Falla outside while the family talked with Niko.  He seemed to enjoy being the center of attention anyway, Tren noticed.  That would make it easier to talk with her.  “I was never the right person for you, Falla.  You know it and I know it.”

“I know, Tren.  You know I had to go along with it, just like you did.  I’m sorry this didn’t work out the way either of us expected.  I hope you find your way with Niko.  You need him.”

Tren could tell she was being coy with that statement.  “Need him?”

“I’m a girl, Tren.  I can tell what’s going on here.”  She whispered in his ear.  “I’ve always known about you and Keenam.  I’m sorry I never told you.  I thought maybe if we... practiced enough, you’d eventually, you know, want me more.  You’re lucky, Tren.  You won’t have to be unhappy.”  She pulled away from him and sighed.  “I won’t have to be unhappy either.  Don’t you see?  This was meant to be.”

So, it was true.  She had known about him and Keenam all this time.  He had no idea she would respond this way.  Nonetheless, Tren felt so embarrassed he didn’t know what to say.  “I’m so... sorry, Falla.”

She shook her head.  “It doesn’t matter, Tren.  You’re leaving.”  She looked away, across the stream.  “There are still a few other boys for me here.  I know who they are.  You don’t have to worry about me.”

He took her hand and led her back inside.  Just after he shut the door, he stopped and hugged her.  The men and women at the table stopped talking under the light, with the finished meal’s dishes still on the table, the water glasses half full, and watched the open display of affection.  Tren clenched his eyes shut as he held her tightly.  He was incredibly relieved, yet felt more vulnerable right now than when he was fighting Jonen.

*

Counselor Brem was scheduled to be in the med chamber the next morning.  Dr. Heskid needed to prepare it before the extended treatment, so Votig was going to spend the night in sickbay beforehand.  There was room on the shuttle for him because Unell and Ezic stayed behind.  Unell was invited to take Tren’s bedroom for now.  Ezic was offered the room meant for Keenam’s new baby, who was soon to arrive.  They would stay there until more permanent quarters could be set up for them.  Tren told everyone he would be spending the night on the ship, ostensibly to be with the counselor during his treatment.  He didn’t dare say it was because he was going to spend the night with Niko again.

“Each time I’ve been in the shuttle I’ve not had a decent view out,” Tren told Niko as they strapped in.

“Not to worry.  I’ve got a big surprise for you later,” Niko whispered as they lifted off.  Niko’s huge smile was so sexy Tren felt himself chubbing up again.

*

Niko sat opposite Tren in the mess hall as they ate dinner.  Several of the crew who hadn’t had a chance to meet Tren yet came by to say hello.  He shook several hands.

The smells, tastes and textures of the ship’s food weren’t unpleasant at all, Tren noted.  After their meal, Niko took Tren to the science lab.  Tren stood next to the center console in the wide room, observing the dark walls that went around its circumference

“This is going to be just a little taste of what I was talking about,” Niko told Tren.  Niko manipulated a control on the console’s surface.  The overhead lights slowly dimmed until they were in near darkness.  The only other illumination was from several images on the console.  Niko’s fingers danced across them as he moved some around.  He brushed several away, leaving others.  Tren watched, not sure what Niko was trying to accomplish.  “Ah, this one.”  Niko double-tapped on it.  Instantly, it appeared on the wall behind them.  The room illuminated so brightly after being in near total darkness that it startled Tren.  He turned around to look.  His heart nearly leapt out of his chest.

On the wall, over three meters high and five wide was a view of the limb of Ithos from orbit.  Tren’s mouth dropped open.  It was as if the wall had disappeared and he was looking out into open space.  The top half of the view was the darkness of space.  Below it was the blue and white curved surface of the planet, the translucent atmosphere, and clouds plainly visible.  He saw small dark seas, green belts, and brown mountain ranges covering huge swaths of land.  It was unbelievably beautiful to see it from this perspective.  He stepped forward.  The curved image filled up his entire field of view so that even his peripheral vision was enveloped.

“It’s so beautiful,” Tren whispered, afraid that speaking too loudly might somehow make it disappear.

“You’re not afraid of heights, are you?”

Tren shook his head.  He reached out, sure the wall had indeed disappeared.  But no, he could see now that the wall was still there; that this was an incredibly detailed image.

Niko could see that Tren was absolutely mesmerized.  “Excellent!  I wasn’t sure how you’d react so this is just the live 2D image.  What I’ve got back in my cabin is gonna blow you away.”

Tren didn’t want to leave but the promise of something even more spectacular beckoned.  He backed away, bumping into the central console.  Niko killed the image on the wall with a wave of his hand across the smaller one on the control panel before they left for his cabin.

Niko pressed the button on the doorframe and it slid shut.  The room was quiet except for the soft rush of air from a vertical panel on the wall and a quiet background hum coming from someplace Trenekis couldn’t identify.

“Music,” Niko said.  Instantly, music with a regular bass beat filled the cabin.  Tren marveled at how it surrounded them with no vidpad in sight nor any people with instruments.  “Lights, one-tenth,” Niko said.  The lights instantly dimmed.

“I was thinking,” Niko started.  “There’s a planet we’ve surveyed called Yekemka.  It’s about twenty-five light years from Eridanus Prime.  After you get up to speed and the sensation of your story’s died down, and after I’ve quit the survey service, maybe we could settle down there.”

“You can’t quit your work because of me.”

“Meeting you was a catalyst to help me make a hard decision, Tren.  I need to get myself planted. I’ve never met someone who has qualities like you.

“I-I know this is sorta fast and all, but I was serious.  I wanna make a go of it with you.  Besides, you’ll be joining our culture and you’re gonna need a guide.  I, uh, I’m willing to be that guy.”

There was no doubt now that Niko was serious.  It wasn’t just idle talk before.  Still, Tren didn’t quite know what to say to that.  He certainly felt drawn to Niko.  Niko’s bold personality and self-assuredness made him feel safe.  That alone was such a satisfying feeling he couldn’t bring himself to say no.

Niko’s shoulders slumped a bit.  “I love my job, but I spend far too much time in space, on ships filled with straight boys.”  He grinned at that.  “Yekemka is similar to Earth except that it has a lot more tectonic activity.  That means there’s lots of work for me.”

“Tectonic,” Tren said, shaking his head.

“Quakes and such.  Stupid Arasen built his ‘city’ over a fault near that caldera.  Our survey has already shown that it’s blown a couple of times over the last few million years.  That caldera, Tren, is the site of a supervolcano.  When it goes off, everything within hundreds of kilometers is destroyed.  As much as Ithos is nearly perfect for colonization right now, the long run doesn’t look good at all, and that’s just one reason.

“Yekemka is different.  It has two huge temperate climatic zones.  They’re ripe for new cities and towns.  Best of all, there are no domes.  I could be outside all I want.  You said you can’t stay in Hiera.  It might sound selfish, but I can’t see you staying here either.  You like looking at the night sky.  I’m sure they need astronomers there, too.”  Niko realized he was pouring it on pretty rapidly.  “You don’t have to decide right now.  Captain’s extending the mission until we can settle everything.  That’ll take at least another two weeks.  We’ve got to make sure those elders don’t find you guys.  If we have to, we’re gonna blast ‘em.  Dr. Heskid has to make sure your... uncle is doing better.  And I... well I have to make sure you and I get to know each other a lot better.”

Tren still didn’t know what to say, but realized Niko was trying his best to keep him interested.  In a way, he already felt himself falling for the guy.  There was plenty of time to decide but Tren could already tell what his choice would be.

Niko unzipped his jumper to the waist, then sat in the chair next to his desk.  He didn’t take his eyes off Tren.  Tren watched him as he pulled his boots off.

Tren’s penis was already swelling.  The zipper on his jumper was several centimeters down from the top.  It revealed a V-shaped patch of the t-shirt Niko had had KAI make for him.  Niko stood up, came forward and pulled the slider down until it reached Tren’s crotch.  He pushed the jumper off Tren’s shoulders.  It fell to his waist.  He went around behind Tren and slowly placed kisses all over his neck.  Tren was already having trouble catching his breath as Niko pressed himself closer, reached his hands around Tren’s chest and hugged him tightly.  “You are so handsome,” Niko whispered.

Tren placed each foot up on the chair as he unlaced the tops of his boots then pulled them off.  He shed the rest of the jumper, his erection pointing toward the ceiling.  Niko played with it for a moment as he stayed pressed against Tren’s back.  He slid his hands underneath the hem of Tren’s t-shirt, worked them slowly up his abdomen, then lingered to pinch Tren’s nipples.  He pulled Tren’s shirt off and dropped it to the floor.  He deliberately didn’t touch Tren’s penis again as he resumed feeling Tren up from behind.  Slowly but surely, Tren’s breathing became irregular and ragged.  The blood pounded in his head.  His penis pulsed noticeably with each heartbeat.

Tren turned around so he could face Niko.  Niko quickly shed the rest of his jumper while Tren sat on the edge of the bed.  His penis, nano-carbon steel hard, pointed to the ceiling.  Niko went to his knees and immediately took Tren’s penis in his mouth.  Tren held the back of Niko’s head while he worked on Tren’s penis.  Niko could feel Tren swell even more.  The sweet flavor of pre-come filled his mouth.  Abruptly, he stopped.

“Why did you stop?”  Tren asked, breathless.  He was just about to come.

“Because I’m gonna show you what I was talking about. “  He got up onto the bed.

At nearly his trigger point, Tren planted himself in front of Niko, both now on their knees, their penises jutting out as they maneuvered themselves.

It was everything Niko could do to not take Tren back into his mouth again.  Instead, he positioned two of the pillows up against the wall.  From a small compartment in the wall, he pulled out what looked like wraparound glasses.  “Just a second while I adjust this.”

Tren leaned back against the pillows.  His balls had drawn up tight.  He ached for release.  He was sure that at any second he would spontaneously ejaculate.  It was nearly impossible to keep his eyes off Niko’s deliciously hairy legs.  He reached out to them and slowly rubbed up and down, reveling in this moment, still barely able to believe all of this was happening.  It had been so long since he and Keenam had done something similar: this deliberate slow playing, the promise of an orgasm or two or even three and the knowing that his desire would be well-sated.  Somehow, though, now it was better.  Niko was older than Keenam.  He looked more mature, too.  He was much more sophisticated, educated and trained.  He definitely knew how to please.  And clearly, Niko was determined to make sure he was going to raise the temperature inside the cabin.

Niko put the glasses on, adjusted them slightly, then spoke out loud.  “KAI, remote retinal glasses are activated.  Shunt the view I chose from the science lab to them.”  A second later he sucked in a huge breath, then pulled them off.  “Wow.  Does it to me every time.”

“What is it?” Tren asked.

“You’ll see.  It’s my favorite thing to do when we get into orbit.  I take my clothes off, put this on and get busy.”  He showed what he meant by stroking his rigid penis a few times.  “Move over here before I put this on you.”  Niko spread his legs and had Tren lean back against his chest.  He adjusted himself so that the small of Tren’s back wasn’t pressed directly against his penis.  “This projects a 3D image directly onto your optic nerves.  Promise you won’t peek until I say so.”

“I promise.”

Niko adjusted the glasses over Tren’s eyes, making sure they rested comfortably over his ears, too.  “Don’t open your eyes yet.  Just let me work on you for a moment.”  He then spoke to the sound system.  “Music, volume up twenty-five percent.”  The cabin filled with music.  Niko slowly stroked him while feeling him up with the other hand.

“Yeah, just like that,” Tren said.

“Keep your eyes closed.”

Tren nodded.

When Tren started emitting little gasps, Niko stopped cold.  “Open your eyes.  Don’t worry.  I’ve got hold of you.”

Tren opened them and sucked in an astonished breath.  It had been a long time since he had experienced such total and complete awe.  He was high above Ithos – disembodied, floating in orbit.  There was nothing but the surface of the planet below him.  Above was the most perfect dark he had ever seen.  Brilliant stars salted the inky blackness.  Overwhelming beauty surrounded him.  The sensation was nearly identical to those times years ago when he felt as if he were outside his body, when he ran off the edge of the mesa and flew into the sky.  This time though he was far, far higher.

From somewhere he heard Niko whisper, “Breathe, Trenekis.  Breathe.”  Suddenly, a huge breath filled Tren’s lungs.  Niko whispered again.  “Isn’t it awesome?”

“So… beautiful,” Tren whispered back, his senses nearly overloaded.

Now that Niko knew Tren was completely taken by the experience, he started stroking Tren again, this time with the finale in mind.

As a powerful orgasm electrified Tren’s body, he felt as if he were filling the entire universe.  He expanded into something far beyond his capacity to understand, yet still he felt Niko’s arms holding him, anchoring him.

Somewhere beneath the scattered clouds and stunning crystal blue atmosphere was Hiera.  High above it, crying out in ecstasy, filling the embracing infinity of space, was Trenekis Idero.