At an undisclosed location, far from any city or road leading to one, Nash’s second request to her uncle all those weeks ago became a reality. In addition to enhanced healing technology aboard the Stardust, she asked for a place to train for her and the others; a place where they could test the limits of their abilities, with none of the restraint and all of the discretion. Rahenzo granted her first wish immediately but held off on the second until he was sure how to get it done. At the end of the day, it couldn’t be company land or any that he privately purchased, so he kept it in the family.

  The transaction with his brother was easier than he’d thought. It was just a small piece of pasture at the edge of the property, rarely used as it ran up against a steep mountainside. Occasionally the cows fancied themselves to be goats and injured themselves trying to climb the stones. These dalliances were more than a nuisance to the aspiring rancher, as they represented a potential loss of income. Apart from the few born under those strange skies, most of the precious beasts were imported from light years away. Before he knew it, he was freed of the pesky little area, brokered on a handshake from his little brother, with a substantial amount up front of course, and the promise of more visits from his daughter… that too.

  It wasn’t long until those few rocky acres were neatly confined, with one gate wide enough to allow a single passenger vehicle through at a time. These vehicles hovered, as did all on civilized planets, having left wheels and tracks in the dim centuries past. Though legally, they weren’t permitted more than two feet of clearance above the ground. This made a proper entry necessary, or else everyone would have damaged their cars trying to jump them over the fence. Once inside, each descended through a hidden elevator that opened beneath the grass and swiftly disappeared again. It was better to keep the rotating bevy of flashy automobiles concealed, as opposed to having them parked every which way in the open pasture. Rare though they may be, the attentions of passersby, hikers, or field hands were best avoided.

  Much like the planet’s freight rail system, inconvenient structures were hidden, so as not to detract from that which was beautiful. The spacious training facility bore all the hallmarks of fine robotic engineering: hasty, uninspired, but durable above all else. It wouldn’t have been decent to have a person build this. Some thirty yards underneath the car-sized elevator opening was a short corridor that led to the modest parking area. Beyond that lay the entrance to the facility, which housed a command center with all manner of diagnostic and performance technology, as well as a laboratory space where certain ‘adaptive enhancements’ could be created and re-created. The whole layout of the place spiraled into the ground, though not too steeply, to save on construction costs. Adjacent to the front area, and down a flight of just five steps were three advanced float tanks, each outfitted with the same hydro-gel solution and life-support capabilities as the chambers onboard the ship, allowing wounds and fractures to heal rapidly without the burden of gravity or consciousness.

  Past the tanks were ten more steps, descending perpendicular to the first flight. At this level was the observation deck, encased in glass, overlooking the massive vault. Here was where the real work took place. Bright white, and made of pure non-conductive titanium, the vault was outfitted with sensors on the surface of its wall to measure voltage, as well as the life-stats of those within. It hadn’t been designed with a power like Nash’s in mind, but telekinesis was harder to plan for than electricity. Though she still reaped the benefit of learning to defend against exceedingly higher amounts of current. As the Toravai grew stronger, so did she, and that was its own reward. Best not to get fried if she would keep working with them in such tight spots abroad.

  The whole thing was magnificent to think about. Even now as Nash approached the place, the thought of it filled her with a sense of pride she couldn’t put into words. Though the feeling did little to distract her from the bumpy ride she was subject to on the passenger side of Sohrab’s car. It was obvious enough he’d never taken it out to a rural area before, the way he careened recklessly around each obstacle, cursing their existence at every turn. Apart from the couple of cows he’d nearly run over, his impending arrival was bound to hurt a few feelings, of this Nash was sure. The rest of the group, Kory, Mia, Zol, and Greg, had gone on ahead of her. Something led her to believe that the latter would be a little courteous on the sole principle of his bright-eyed-and-bushy-tailed Earthling curiosity, but the others would have a harder time. It would be an uphill battle, but like any other, it was one in which she was prepared to take the lead.

  #

  “Here, try these out next. They’re a flexible, copper alloy like before, and they should be easier to put on than those wraps I had you field testing last time.” Greg pushed a set of clunky magnifying spectacles up onto his head and handed two shimmery, fingerless gloves across the workbench to Zol. “When we were down there in the mine, I know a lot was going on, but I couldn’t help but notice that the addition of a… conductive material helped strengthen your attack. It’s a shame how he knocked it right back at you, but I don’t suppose everybody will be doing that.”

  “I don’t suppose…” Zol repeated stiffly as he pulled the gloves over his hands. The metallic fabric contrasted awfully strange against the leathery flesh of his coarse, brown fingers. “Mia’s back down there,” he said, nodding towards the direction of the stairs leading to the vault. “Maybe she wants some too, you think…”

  “In due time my friend. I can only sew so fast,” Greg chuckled, leaning back on his stool. “And just between you and me, I don’t want her thinking I’m fishing around for her finger size… not yet at least.” He raised his eyebrows and cast a knowing look in his roommate’s direction, but the reference was lost on Zol. It would have been lost on Mia too, frankly.

  Zol continued to flex and examine his hands in the gloves, content to breeze past whatever Greg said, when the not-so-distant sound of the facility’s main elevator hissed to life. Without further ado, their awkward, but typical, moment was supplanted by a worse one, forewarned by the whir of another car levitating down the corridor.

  “That’s Nash, right?” Greg puzzled as the unfamiliar vehicle came into view. Oddly, the thing reversed the whole way and just barely missed the wall as it descended next to the other two cars parked near the entrance. The passenger door opened, revealing it was indeed Nash, though her head remained fixed on the driver for the moment.

  “Whoever gave you your license ought to be in jail,” she scolded, as she swung her legs out and stood upon solid ground at last.

  “I don’t… literally just trust me,” Sohrab mumbled indignantly as he slipped out of the opposite door. His reply went unnoticed as she was already gone, headed down the short ramp from the parking area to greet Greg and Zol at the workbench.

  “Whose car is that? Wait, is it…” Greg asked as the ghoul came into view. “He can’t be here!”

  “Hell, no. Turn around!” Zol raised his voice to the unwelcome guest. He stood up straight, shoulders back and fists clenched, eyes locked onto Sohrab’s every move, as if he could block a psychic intrusion as easily as a punch.

  “Guys, please,” Nash approached them and raised her hands in a gesture of appeasement. “We need to reconsider having him join us, at least part of the time.”

  “Are you kidding me?” Greg wrenched the work glasses from the top of his head and flung them onto the messy table. “You’re the one who wanted him gone more than anybody because he can see what we think!”

  “You know what I think?” Sohrab spoke at last, pushing his own sunglasses past the thick white fringe to the top of his head.

  “Nobody cares,” Greg retorted, with Zol grunting in agreement, earning them both a stern shushing from Nash as she motioned for Sohrab to continue.

  “I think that whatever was done to your dazzling new ship, as well as all this…” he gestured broadly at every inch of the gleaming new technology surrounding them. “…Isn’t enough, and some of you seem to realize it. Even now, you do all you can to outpace the damage…” He looked pointedly at Greg. “…when what I can offer you, is a way to avoid it altogether.”

  “We’re doing just fine, thank you,” Greg jeered, defensive of his engineering projects.

  “Except you’re not doing just fine!” Sohrab thrust his hand into the pocket of his overcoat and fished out a cigarette. It was as much to smoke as it was to point with. He lit it knowing it would offend the Earthling’s ingrained sense of decorum. “And believe me, I didn’t need to lick the salt off the rim of your non-functioning minds to know that… wouldn’t be worth the tetanus shot.” He took a long drag as if it would serve as punctuation enough for whatever the hell he’d just said.

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  “Huh?” Greg squinted in disbelief.

  “That’s right, she told me all the trouble you have.” Sohrab slapped a hand onto Nash’s shoulder. She brushed it and the resulting ash off immediately, as she looked away in embarrassment.

  “You don’t think this would have sounded better coming from you?” Greg accused her. “He’s not exactly selling himself.” His question went unanswered as Sohrab was distracted, peering quite obviously around Zol’s rugged frame to the float tanks at the bottom of the steps just beyond the lab area.

  “We need every advantage we can get,” Nash insisted. “And I’m ashamed to admit… that I’m partly to blame.” Her jaw clenched, but her gaze didn’t waver. Maintaining resolve in the face of one’s own admonishment wasn’t easy. Greg saw that, and softened to her appeal, if only a little. “If we had known…if I had known from the beginning that Azervel was lying to us…to me, back there, we could have avoided most of that unfortunate situation from the start. We almost lost our lives because I chose to believe someone who wasn’t telling the truth.” Her voice cracked a bit on the last part. Even the hard-headed Zol seemed to sympathize with her in that moment. “How good could things be if we knew who was or wasn’t honest right away?”

  Greg and Zol missed their chance to respond to her genuine plea when Sohrab cut them off first. “Just because I can see the memory of your pain, my dear girl, doesn’t make me your therapist. Now what’s going on down there?” He pushed past them, gliding a little too confidently towards the next set of stairs.

  “We’ll talk about this later,” Greg half whispered, half mouthed to Nash once Sohrab was clear of them. She shot him a look in response that was equal parts grateful and desperate, before turning to follow the other two down the steps. The Human stayed behind at his work, pretending to fiddle with some gadget while he eavesdropped on whatever altercation he presumed would come next.

  “You know, I was thinking we could take the full tour after we discussed a few things.” She called in vain to the psychic. “I’m obviously pretty proud of this place, but first it would be good to –”

  “I can see myself around…” he interrupted, fully preoccupied by what lay before him. His concentration broke only briefly to scowl at Zol who followed close behind. “…if your dog will stop biting my ankles.”

  “Watch it,” Zol threatened.

  “I am, but you shouldn’t call her ‘it,’ not very polite I gather.” Sohrab approached the third tank, where Kory slept before him, suspended in mint green fluid wearing nothing but a black sports bra and shorts to match. He extended his hand to tap on the glass, but before he made contact, her eyes shot open in a fearsome glare. Even through the distortion of the liquid she knew it was him. In one swift motion she ripped the breathing mask from her face, swam to the surface and perched upon the edge of the cylinder.

  “Kory no! Your shoulder needs six more hours! It’s still broken!” Nash decried, but Kory wasn’t listening. The vague white shape she’d seen from the other side now stood below her, unable to speak and getting dripped on. She’d nearly formed words of her own when a surge of pain shot through her left collar bone and down through her arm. Her shoulder was indeed still broken. It crunched and shifted as it collapsed under her, followed by the rest of her body. The others stepped back to dodge her as she made the ten-foot drop to the floor, falling in an undignified puddle upon the cold tile.

  Only the clatter of Greg abandoning his work for good broke the silence. “Is she okay?” he called.

  Sohrab knelt before her on the floor, tossed aside his drenched cigarette, and extended his hand. She raised her head and met his pitying gaze with a harsh one of her own. “You ought to let me help you,” he said, almost kindly. “It’s what I’ve been brought here to do.” She didn’t reply, and she didn’t take his hand either. Kory rose from the floor, stifling every expression of pain, then turned to face the one responsible.

  “Go on,” she demanded of her friend. “Make it make sense.”

  Nash inhaled sharply, choosing her next move with care. This was a win. Kory’s demeanor might have been closed off, but her words left the door open to persuasion. She hurried over to fuss over her injury and convince her that it would all be okay. Her attention was permitted, but not reciprocated.

  Kory looked firmly ahead, watching Sohrab leave. He was halfway up the steps by now, and though she was sure his lips didn’t move, she was certain she heard him speak words meant only for her.

  “Hang on, we still have some things to discuss,” Greg whispered sharply as the intruder walked past. He scrambled after him to his car, pelting him with question after question, only to have none of them answered.

  When they reached the vehicle, Sohrab opened both doors and slumped into the drivers’ side, before motioning to Greg to take the other seat. “Go on then, we can talk here while the drowned rats unravel themselves.” He took a long pull from the flask he kept in his pocket and raked his fingers through his hair. “You get two questions.”

  “Two?” Greg objected, joining him in the car. “That’s not enough.”

  “Everybody gets one. But you’re not just ‘everybody’ are you?” Sohrab peered into those obstinate blue eyes. “No, you’re here for a few reasons, none of them good.”

  “I don’t understand what you mean by that,” Greg said incredulously, secretly thankful that somebody smarter or better connected wasn’t reading his mind.

  “The things you don’t understand could fill a library. Now ask your questions before they all come clamoring and wailing up here.” He turned back forward and breathed a heavy sigh.

  “First, why did you cut me off at New Galveston? I was doing really well with Mike Albemarle, and I think we were making some inroads…”

  “Oh, that old thing. How long’s it been? You need to move past that.” Sohrab offered Greg the flask, but Greg waved it away, not satisfied with the answer and unwilling to be distracted from it.

  “Just tell me the truth.”

  “The truth is he was never going to negotiate, and even the company of a ‘sub-acquaintance’ like yourself couldn’t un-poison the well Nash tainted by her mere presence. That family has a long and contentious history with the Iolite Roamgild and its representatives. And the fact that you kept on trying to win him over without having regarded that history convinced him to trust you even less than he did in the first place, which was barely at all if I’m being honest.” He paused for a moment, allowing the knowledge to sweep over Greg, who remained dumbstruck by the revelation and unable to form a response. Seeing as there was none, Sohrab cracked a wry smile and continued. “You’re realizing now why I’m essential, but not well-liked in my profession. And the rest of you would have seen that had you, well not ‘specifically’ you, reacted so hastily once I’d revealed myself.”

  “Okay…” Greg said, crestfallen, still reeling from the shame and bewilderment he felt.

  “Feel like you can move on now? Got the closure you need?” Sohrab said flatly.

  “Yeah,” Greg mumbled.

  “Good. What’s your second question?”

  Greg mentally shook himself off and prepared to ask what he once believed would be the harder of the two, though now he wasn’t sure. “Right, um… just how much has Nash told you about the last place we visited?

  “I assume you don’t mean the vineyard.” He said languidly.

  “Obviously not.”

  “Shame,” he slurred, lifting the flask to his lips once more. “But yes, I know to what…to whom you’re referring… and whoever, whatever that man was you met there, isn’t like what you’re thinking at all…”

  “Aw heck,” Greg sighed, leaning out of the open passenger door. “Here she comes, we’ll have to cut this short.”

  “…her memories paint a different picture,” Sohrab dragged on. He paused to organize the thoughts he’d gleaned from Nash and parse them with the idea Greg had. The strain of it was something, to be sure. Some of it, or maybe none of it, seemed to connect with his own arcane notions about the things not of this world, the ones who came before. Though articulating a theory as ill-defined as that one would take more time than any of them had.

  “Hey, we were just smoothing things over; real excited to work together for sure,” said Greg, half in jest. “But first, how’s she doing?” he asked, exiting the car as Nash arrived.

  “She’s calmed down, for now.” Nash dabbed at an errant blob of hyrdro-gel on her skirt with a rag, achieving less than nothing. “I haven’t told her I’m upping her sedative dosage yet, but she’ll figure it out when she wakes up in twelve hours.”

  “No, yeah, definitely… but listen, Sohrab was just about to tell me a little insight he had regarding the uh…” Greg leaned over the car, hoping to not have to piece it all together himself.

  “Right, what was your Earthling word for it? It was something from folklore, imaginary perhaps?” Sohrab asked, pinching the bridge of his nose as he started the car. It began to levitate about a foot off the ground, causing Greg to take a step back.

  “I mean, it’s not that I know it for sure, but when Azervel claimed to be present at the construction of what now lies in ruin… it’s just the first place my head went, and I thought –”

  “No, absolutely not. Not on your life.” Sohrab pressed a few more buttons as the vehicle’s systems came online. Slowly the exterior doors began to close. “You wouldn’t know a damn… a vam – a damn vampire if one climbed up and bit the tip of your –” The doors shut with a loud hiss, cutting off the end of his explanation. From outside the car, Nash and Greg could see him finish his sentence, his eyes slightly glazed over. He pulled the drive shaft lever all the way to the rear, and then backed into the wall behind him. From inside, they heard him curse the ‘stupid thing’ as he put it into the correct gear at last and sped away towards the facility’s exit elevator.

  “How many DUIs do you think that guy has?” Greg postulated after a brief moment of silence.

  “Oh Greg,” Nash sighed. “That’s only a crime on Earth.”