Over the years, the mask had drawn so much attention it had become a tourist attraction. The security at the cave had to be further increased when fanatics became enraged. They believed the artifact had been sent by the gods and perceived this influx of gaping offworlders as a sacrilege.

The three friends did not need to go through as strenuous a process because of Jack’s status as the lead researcher on the project. He was one of the few who could authorize access to the site and, as such, was only required to sign his name on the vidscreen. They were then let in.

Jack had reserved this timeslot for them, making sure no one else would be there. He wanted Paul to have a clear mind and be able to focus with no distractions.

They stood in the empty chamber, staring at the wall.

The face was there, clearly visible, though also made of stone. And while it looked similar to the surface it was apposed upon, there were enough differences to make out exactly where one ended and the other began.

In some spots, especially closer to the eyes, the matter used to fabricate the mask became of a lighter tone, almost white. At first glance, one might have thought it was some sort of marble... but closer inspection revealed that, in fact, it was not.

It was a handsome face, that of a male in his thirties. With wide, intelligent eyes; a small, regular nose; thin, smiling lips; and what might have been a scar above his right brow. Though the figure felt like it was staring straight into your eyes, it radiated acceptance and peacefulness.

Jack and Will remained quiet, giving their friend the time they felt he might need to examine the mask.

They moved out of his way and sat on one of the stone benches that had been installed in the chamber to better accommodate visitors.

Paul crouched in front of the face and stared directly into it.

There were connections here. He could feel them.

It was stone, yet it was not.

Threads ran deep into the wall, into the earth. Energies coursed through them, feeding it... with what? Perhaps that was what gave it that appearance. An illusion, of sorts.

It was no wonder, though, if all had failed to remove it. This thing was much too profoundly rooted into the wall. At least, it was not grafted. He had wondered about that. But he could sense now that this was not the case. Someone had placed it here on purpose. And it was firmly held in place.

To take it out, he realized, you would have to sever those connections.

He projected his own energies toward the face and felt a tingle inside of him. It grew as he delved deeper, so much so that it became an obstacle, resisting his progress.

There was a gasp from his friends, and that was when he realized the mask’s appearance had changed. So focused was he on his task that he had not noticed.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

Its surface was twirling with rapidly shifting colors, having now lost any resemblance to stone—to the point that he wondered if he had dreamed that initial state? It now glowed and seemed very much alive. The skin was so detailed you could see the pores on its surface, and little imperfections near the mouth and ears. For a second, he even thought he’d seen those penetrating eyes blink... Surely, he must have imagined that.

He shook the feeling away and drilled on. But the resistance became painful, as if it was drilling back into his own skull—and being more effective at it. The agony was so intense it eventually forced him to pull away... without having reached the other end of those threads.

Wiping sweat from his forehead, he stood and stared at the mask.

Its colors continued to swirl for a moment, then they slowly faded as its surface returned to its original stony appearance.

“That was different...” whispered Will.

Paul glanced at his friends. “How so?”

“I’ve seen it change a couple of times,” said Jack as he scratched his chest, “but never with such quick motions. You must have done something right...”

Paul grimaced. “I don’t know. This thing...” He shook his head as he tried to find the right words. “I’m not sure I can do this, guys.”

Without waiting for a response from them, he walked out of the chamber.

***

For most of her life, she had believed people were kind. There was evil in the world, of course, but it was a fringe phenomenon, which could only be ascribed to a handful of despicable individuals who did not like to follow the rules and only put their own well-being and profit before anyone else’s.

But the vast majority of people were not like that. They would help an elderly person cross the street. Carry their groceries for them. Rescue a cat from a tree. Watch the neighbor’s house while they were away on vacation. Denounce injustices and condemn crimes.

This all had changed when her parents had been murdered.

Susan’s eyes had then opened to the cruel realities of the world around her, of how society functioned, and how authorities rarely righted wrongs.

After all, if the system was so perfect, then why had the killers never been caught?

In the past five years, she had become convinced that corruption ran rampant in all the deepest branches of the government and that this, at least in part, was to blame for the failures of justice in her case. She often wondered if, perhaps, it was not even the motive for the murder. It’s not like her parents had not been outspoken about the flawed mechanics of the Weld. It did not feel so unlikely to her they could have been targeted because of that.

Her growing cynicism only reinforced this belief. While it was, itself, further fueled by this new development.

How could she have been so naive?

She should have seen it coming a hundred miles away.

A perfect stranger gave her a truth serum—that likely cost a fortune—out of the goodness of their heart? Not once had she questioned the man’s motives. She was so obsessed with her own quest she had not seen how obviously shady the deal was.

She was so tired of the conspiracies and manipulations. They seemed to be everywhere she went.

But it was over now. She would not let them control her this way anymore. She was done jumping through hoops.

If they thought they could scare her away, they had another thing coming.

Not that she believed anymore the stranger had any connection with her parents’ death, but it was a general sense of rebellion. Against the system and the deceptions.

She would unveil the truth about her parents, no matter the cost. If they came after her, then so be it. She was willing to risk her skin for this cause... after all, what else did she have left? It had been the focus of her life for the past five years.

They had already taken her parents from her. There was nothing left for her to lose.

But she also was keenly aware of her own limitations. The stranger was obviously dangerous. She could not go after him. What would be the point, anyway, if he had nothing to do with her parents?

She would have liked to get some revenge—for lack of justice—against him, but that was not worth the risk. She had more important business to attend to.

No more distractions.

There was another lead she had not yet followed.

One she had avoided until now.

She headed to the spaceport and bought a ticket to Vuulthur.

It was time to go home.