Troubled but determined, she sat in the chair and tapped on the TriVid screen. She tried hard not to think about the broken window behind her.

She knew the glass had been reinforced by the security firm that set up the alarm system. She knew she was safe now... in theory. She was supposed to be safe before, too.

But she refused to be scared.

She had been, on Exudia. She would not make that mistake again.

Her mind turned to the display.

There had to be something she could find... So she was researching everything about Lucaan Labs.

What she found was not very interesting.

It was a subcontractor for many larger businesses—such as Aspen World, Moonrise Initiative, HoloGraph Inc., and Blue Siren Corporation.

Her interest was piqued though when she discovered ties to the government. Those ties ran deep, and they were ancient. Lucaan had handled all the medical examinations in the earlier days of the colony, screening every settler as they arrived on the planet. A mandatory step to ensure all of them could handle the harsh conditions on Vuulthur.

The connection grew from there, with the government directly providing half of Lucaan’s budget. It also went in the other direction, as the company had regularly ‘donated’ large amounts of their profits to various charitable organisms that, in reality, served to finance electoral campaigns and governmental operations—such as the construction of pipelines, or the maintenance of basic infrastructures.

Susan frowned as she read through all the reports. The whole of it stank of greed and corruption.

Could it be her father had uncovered some more nefarious dealings and had been threatened for it? Which could explain their sudden decision to leave.

Yes, her mother had been sick, there was no denying it. But could they not have waited at least until the end of their contract with Lucaan? She could understand not wanting to wait through all thirty years of the settlement contract, but six more months? Would that have made a huge difference?

Maybe. She wasn’t a doctor, after all. But it was just as likely her parents had run for their lives after discovering something they should not have.

Which could also explain why they were coming after her now. She must be getting close. Too close for comfort.

Still.

All she had were assumptions when what she needed were proofs.

And she had none.

If her father had found something, where would he have hidden the evidence?

Most likely he’d have taken it with him when he’d left.

But if it were still here, where would it be?

She had already looked through all of the files on the TriVid system, but went through them again.

“Did my father delete anything before he left?” she asked out loud.

“Over two thousand files,” responded the house’s AI.

The amount startled her. But then, she realized, why would he have kept anything here if he was leaving for good?

“Can any of them be restored?”

“Not after such a long time,” apologized the voice. “My system is purged every year, for performance reasons.”

It figured.

Susan sighed.

There went that idea.

But there still was one lead she hadn’t looked into...

***

Never in a million years would he have expected to one day return here, of all places. In this house where he had been held against his will. In this house where his health had declined, where he had nearly died... had it not been for Victor.

The boy had given him his address, since Jack had offered to help. He could not have left him on his own. So he had sent him money and had even hired someone to do the cleaning—since a child so young could not be expected to handle any of that.

Nor had he intended to go there. But as he walked aimlessly through the streets, with the two bags at his side—which held the sum total of his possessions, including the most precious of them all—he had found himself standing in front of the damned house. His feet had taken him there without asking for his permission.

The boy had been happy to see him and had said he could stay as long as he wished. And no, he would not tell anyone. Of course not!

Jack had rested for an hour. Then he had jumped to his feet. What was he doing? There was no time to rest. Now least of all! Now that he had the mask, it was time for action. It was time to find someone who would buy it from him. Someone willing to meet his price.

It would have to be one of the Zendaar, for only they could meet his price. That much he knew.

And though the Zendaar were said to be everywhere, there was only one he had ever really heard of, or knew where to find.

Lord Valerian was said to live in a fortress outside of Joqqal.

So he had sent him a message and hoped for the best.

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

He was now pacing back and forth. The boy had given him his father’s room, so it was large and comfortable. He could have rested in the bed... and maybe he should have, as he still felt the aches in his bones. And the cough was not getting any better—in fact, he knew it was getting worse. But he also knew the exercise would help. It already had. Anything that could help delay the inevitable would give him a chance to survive.

Victor came running into the room.

“Wassab! A message for you...”

He handed Jack a letter, which the historian opened with apprehension. Could it be an answer so soon?

But what he found was more startling.

“We are delighted to hear you have the mask and are willing to part with it, to the benefit of our people.

“However, we were less delighted to hear of the individual whom you have approached with this.

“Please be informed that the one you call Valerian is an outcast, a fool, and a disgrace to our kin.

“Most of all, he is not to be trusted.

“Whatever price you ask of him, I assure you he can not afford.

“I would recommend most strongly that you meet him before you make any decision and see for yourself.

“I am confident you will then understand our meaning.

“We are prepared to make you an offer.

“A most generous one.

“We are hoping to hear from you, at your earliest convenience.”

Jack shot a glance at the boy.

“Did anyone follow you?”

“No, wassab!”

“Where did you find this?”

“It was given to me by the same one who took your message the other day.”

Of course, he thought. If that one knows one Zendaar, it should be no surprise if he knows more of them. Well, perhaps this is for the best.

But what was he to do, he wondered? The tone of the letter was intriguing enough. But was it truthful? He liked that it only advised him to test Valerian. What would it cost him to do so? Only a bit of time...

He grimaced at the thought. He wasn’t sure he could afford to waste any more of that precious time. But... if it ensured he didn’t get screwed over—which would be disastrous—then perhaps it would be well worth it.

Yes. He would meet Valerian first, without the mask, just to gauge the man.

Then, he would decide what to do.

***

To find the mask, he would first need to track down the people who had had access to it when it was taken.

So when he reached the city, he immediately headed for the cave.

He recognized some of the guards, though he did not approach. There was too much of a crowd. The theft had drawn attention. The media were there, as were the police, and government officials.

This was most inconvenient.

It would delay him further, when he most needed speed.

He considered his options.

A glance at his wrist made him realize he did not even have a wristpad anymore—that most basic of necessities. He cursed.

So first things first. Get one.

They were easy enough to obtain.

Money, at least, was not an issue. He could produce any amount with a simple blink of his eyes... That he could not have done with any of his dreamskins.

There were many places where one could purchase a wristpad. Once he had done so, he proceeded to call the gatehouse at the cave—their number was listed in the directory.

He did not bother to talk when he heard “Hello?” on the other end. He had blocked the visual feed, so the guard would be clueless as to who was on the line. While the man kept asking who was calling, he proceeded to hack the system.

Those were skills he had learned in one of his previous human lives. It had come in handy before. It would again now.

The guard gave up and hung up, but it did not matter. Now that the connection had been established, he could maintain it for his purposes.

What he found, though, did not help him. Entry into the cave, at the time of the theft, had been made with Jack’s credentials—but he knew for a fact that Jack hadn’t been there.

The historian was getting blamed all over the news. At first, the authorities had not thought much of it, since he had always said he wanted to remove it from the wall... to study it, supposedly. So when he had succeeded, it had not attracted attention. At least, not until the historian disappeared.

That information gave him pause.

He looked through the logs again. Jack had never listed the names of those who were with him, but he knew there had been two on that first visit, when the alarm had gone off. And there had been two there again when the actual theft had occurred.

As he browsed through the security files, he noticed there were also video recordings. Of course! He should have thought of that earlier. He scanned through the timestamps and found the footage from the night of the theft.

He stared a long time at the two faces, as if to commit them to memory. With a few taps on his new wristpad, he took screenshots, then hurried to Jack’s hotel.

Those were the same two men who had been with Jack on that first night. They must know each other. With some luck, they were staying at the same hotel.

When he showed the pictures at the front desk, he was told that yes, both of these men were staying there. He was given names and told that Will was away, but Paul was in his room.

He ran up and knocked.

The man who opened the door was startled when he saw his face, eyes growing wide.

“Who are you?”

“I think you already know the answer to that question,” he said with a slight smile. “A more pressing one is... do you still have the mask? And if not, who does?”

He could feel the man’s eyes staring at the scar above his brow.

“This can’t be real...”

“Snap out of it! This is important.”

Paul scowled. “I am not saying a word until you explain yourself! How is this possible?”

“I am Xian, and I must get the mask back. Without it, this world may soon come to an end...”

***

Though the city was hidden deep in the jungle, hundreds of miles away from civilization, it was not totally cut off.

The people who lived there had access to technology humans did not even suspect existed. Devices that allowed them to speed up or slow down time; tiny sensors that could be injected into the body to constantly monitor health and identify problems; portable TriVid screen; and so many other things...

One other example was the gateway which allowed them to move freely from one part of the world to another, within seconds. This had, in part, contributed to their reputation as gods, as it made them seem like they had the power of ubiquity.

It was through the use of this device that Evken traveled to Joqqal.

The gateway led into a manor, at the edge of town, which belonged to his people. It was used specifically as a transit point and was inhabited by erkins who shared some of their powers and secrets. No human, however, was ever allowed within these walls, as the powers-that-be did not deem them trustworthy enough for knowledge such as this.

Upon his arrival, he was greeted with the respect due to one of his rank. A room was assigned for his usage and he was given a report about the latest developments.

He would not have to do much searching, it seemed, as the thief had reached out to them—or, rather, to Valkan, of all people.

“We have sent this Arnett a message to warn him about dealing with the accursed one, and to let him know we are prepared to discuss terms.”

“You did well,” said Evken. He could appreciate initiative. “Let me know if you hear back from him.”

As he settled into his lodging, he wondered what they would do if this human sold the mask to the madman. Valkan could not be allowed to keep such a precious item. It would give him too much power. Though it was likely he would not even know what to do with such power. Still, better safe than sorry.

He decided to go out and explore the city.

They had chosen him because he, among all of them, had had the most interactions with the humans. But it had been a long time, nonetheless, since he’d last walked among them. The city had gone through many changes since.

Because of their shorter lifespans, they were always in a hurry. They scurried around, constantly worried they wouldn’t have enough time to complete their daily chores, not realizing they were, by their own doing, missing out on the meaning of life.

Was he one to talk, though? Did he really know the meaning of life? How could he when he did not even understand where his people came from... And why were they stuck on this world? If they had come here from elsewhere, shouldn’t they be able to leave?

There had been numerous attempts, but all of them had failed with varying degrees of calamity. Some had just hit an invisible barrier and had been bumped back. Others had burned, or been disintegrated. You could never really know in advance what would happen.

The only certainty was that the Zendaar could never leave this planet.