With still no sign of his target, Ed had done some research on the man. What he’d found had troubled him.
Jack Arnett was a noted and respected historian who had been based on Qojja for three years now. At first, he had studied the planet’s history... but as time passed, he had become increasingly more focused on the mask. Though no one spoke of obsession, it was clearly implied by the reports he had read. Worse, Arnett had voiced his conviction the artifact needed to be removed so it could be better studied and, perhaps, understood.
Though many argued against this proposition—including his own friend and associate William Van Kerwen—Arnett’s supervisors continued to support him. Likely because media attention was helping them obtain better funds.
Ed headed back to the coffee shop as he mulled over all these revelations, trying to understand what might have been going through the historian’s head. Why did he really want the mask? And who was he working for? Was this some sort of plot? No matter how he looked at it, though, he could not figure out either who could be behind this, or what their motive could be.
There was one possibility, of course, but it was the most unlikely scenario.
He opened the door to the coffee shop and immediately saw Cora sitting at a table in a corner. She looked up and gestured for him to join her. He smiled. He had guessed she would be here.
“The most incredible thing happened to me last night,” she said excitedly. He was happy to see her like this—she had seemed so sad and depressed before.
“Oh?” he asked as he motioned for a server.
She waited for him to place his order before she went on.
“I had a dream... I never dream! But it’s not just that. It’s also what I dreamed about. I mean... I don’t understand it, but... You remember what I told you yesterday? How I want to be an adventurer? Well, I was! I mean... not really, obviously, although it felt real... incredibly real. I was in a spaceship and traveled from star to star. I was looking for something...” She frowned. “I can’t remember what it was, but it felt important. But on every planet, I met with resistance, and I would get into these insane fights... which I’d always win, of course!” She laughed. “It was crazy! And it felt so real! How is this possible?”
“Active imagination?” suggested Ed as his cup arrived.
“Hardly,” she snorted.
“You should allow yourself to be inspired by this.”
“How do you mean?”
“I don’t know... Be bold?”
She looked skeptical.
He insisted: “No matter how desperate things look, we always have choices we can make. It is easy to not make any—easiest thing in the world. Sit back and just watch as everything around you crumbles. But there’s always a way out. If you put your mind to it. And work for it.” He paused when the waitress came back with his cup, and waited for her to leave before he continued. “That dream of yours—your life as an adventurer—was it easy?”
“No,” she admitted. “It was exhausting. Kept me on my toes. Did a lot of running. And fighting.”
He took a small sip from his cup and smiled contentedly.
“So do you think you could become an adventurer without putting any effort into changing your life?”
“It’s just a fantasy,” she said with a meek voice. “I don’t actually want to be like that...”
“Doesn’t matter. Whatever you want to be will require work. Everything does. But it’s a decision you’ll have to make for yourself. The real question is: do you want to change, or not?”
“Of course I do!”
“Then it’s settled,” he smiled.
She blinked. “It is?” There was a pause as she thought this through. “I guess it is, then.”
Ed drank his coffee and marveled, once again, at the delicacy of its taste.
***
If there was one thing on Vuulthur that Susan hated more than the wind and the smell, it was the rain. It was rare, but always brutal.
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
That week, it rained two days in a row. She stayed in the house, upset and moody.
Since she was stuck indoors, she took the time to go through all the boxes that had been left behind.
All the more important stuff had moved with them, so there was not much there of interest. But the more she read, the more she wondered why her parents had left.
They had a whole life here. With friends, family, work... Sure, it wasn’t a high-paying position, but her father enjoyed it nonetheless. His work environment also seemed to have been good, from the little correspondence she found. Furthermore, as early settlers, they enjoyed many perks, including free services and significant discounts—which made their expensive departure all the more inexplicable.
She suddenly realized they had also left in a hurry. It was coming back to her now. Why she had forgotten this, she did not know—perhaps because she couldn’t wait to get off the planet herself? It hadn’t seemed such a big deal to her at the time, quite the contrary.
But put back into perspective, none of it made sense.
She threw the last stack of papers back into a box, annoyed and frustrated.
The more she looked, the less she understood.
She went back into her father’s old office and asked the house’s AI to activate the TriVid screen.
The rain may keep her here, but there were other ways she could investigate.
If her uncle didn’t know the answers—or didn’t want to give them to her—she’d seek out all the people who knew her parents. One of them had to know something.
She didn’t care how long it’d take her, she’d get to the bottom of this...
Well, that wasn’t entirely true. She did care because the sooner she got off this planet, the better. But regardless, she would not botch this up.
After a few minutes of searching, she’d located a dozen acquaintances and determined that five others had moved to another city, while three had left the planet entirely, and two had died.
All the names were transferred into her wristpad, along with the corresponding addresses and holo IDs.
She browsed through them quickly, and selected the name that sounded the most familiar to her. With a tap on the pad, she initiated the call on her holovisor.
“Sheila Evans?”
“It is I.”
The blonde who answered the call was studying her with curiosity, likely trying to determine whether this was someone she knew or yet another salesperson attempting to sell her some random product she presumably ‘needed.’
“I don’t know if you’ll remember me, but... I’m Susan Caine. You used to know my parents. David and Wilma Caine.”
“Oh, yes!” The woman’s face lit up. “Little Suzie! Oh, my! You’re all grown up, now, aren’t you?”
Susan smiled. “It’s been a long time. How are you?”
“Oh, dear! You wouldn’t believe it! We’ve had a horrible season. Too much rain lately. Just terrible. It’s making it impossible to work in the fields. I keep telling Barry that we should—”
She’d forgotten how much Sheila liked to talk and regretted asking her that question. She should have gone straight to the point. Still, it was nice to see a familiar face.
“—the winds, as you’ll remember. But oh my! Here I am rambling on and on about all these silly little things... Tell me about you, Suzie! How are things with you? What world are you on now?”
She was concerned that if she told her the truth, Sheila would invite her—or, worse, drop for a visit—but she couldn’t get herself to lie.
“Actually, I’m here. On Vuulthur. In our old house...”
“Oh, dear! Poor thing! It must be dreadfully boring out there all on your lonesome, especially with this dreary weather... I should come over to keep you company!”
“No!” she let out in a panic. “I mean, it’s okay. I have a lot to do. It’s keeping me busy, going through all of dad’s stuff... well, what’s still here anyway. Speaking of which, I wanted to ask you something.”
“Oh, but of course! What is it, dear?”
“Do you know why my parents left?”
The woman blinked. “What do you mean, why?”
“Well, I... I don’t know if you know this, but I never liked it here. I couldn’t wait to leave. So I always assumed my parents had felt the same. But now, I’m not so sure anymore.”
“Oh no, dear. They loved it here! Both of them did.”
“Then why did they leave?”
“Because of the curse, of course.”
***
When the detective had voiced his skepticism, the man had assured him it was not a matter of belief, but of certainty.
“Our gods live amongst us. They walk amongst us. They breathe the same air and eat the same food. Their reality can not be denied, for it is also our reality.”
As Ward walked through the crowded streets, observing the people around him, he wondered if all of them shared that same belief.
He knew magic was real, of course, and he knew there were supernatural beings out there... it was, after all, common knowledge. But gods? That was just taking things too far.
Religion had never appealed to him. The concept of an all-powerful, all-knowing being—let alone in multiple copies—was something he could not wrap his mind around. It did not make any kind of sense to him. And despite all the other unnatural stuff that was quite real, most people had similar misgivings when it came to deities.
It was an odd thing to be in a place now where not believing in gods was likely regarded as the exception, rather than the rule. Where such incredulity might mark you as a heretic, a pariah...
He would have to be careful.
With a few taps on his wristpad, Ward brought up the names of the people he needed to talk to. As they scrolled on his retina, he wondered if he shouldn’t add the Zendaar to the list. Gods or not, if they were in charge—and considering all the shady dealings Moonrise had been involved in—he’d have to have a chat with them at some point. And how many of them were there exactly?
He had been so surprised by the CEO’s words he hadn’t thought to ask more about these so-called gods. But perhaps that was for the best. If the man was a fanatic, he might not have taken lightly to his faith being questioned.
That thought annoyed him. Why should he care whether the man was offended or not? It wasn’t his job to walk on eggs. His job was to get answers, no matter what. And if that meant a few bruised egos, so be it.
He could ask the man the next time he saw him, though he suspected he could find other ways to obtain the information.
As he sorted the names in the order he’d like to interview them, he walked into the hall of his hotel. He blinked the display off and headed into the bar.
He sat at the counter and ordered a drink.