Terra Firma, the planet that fights over pointless reasons. A fitting tagline. Another good one. Victor Mathews, the CIA agent too dumb for his britches. Jaruka smiled.

Jaruka cracked his knuckles and neck as he paced toward the dropship. “Victor,” he yelled, “come out so I can rearrange your spine!”

“Teal, no, this is ridiculous,” Deryl said getting in front of the alien. “You really assume Victor did this?”

“It’ll just take a sec.” Jaruka placed his hand on Deryl’s face and pushed him aside, nearly knocking him down. “Don’t bother calling a medic.”

Mathews disappeared from the windows as Jaruka got closer.

Jaruka cracked all eight knuckles again.

The only exit was the hatch, if Mathews ran he would have to sprint before Jaruka could grab him. If Katie could use her magic to stop him perhaps it would be easier, but she was new to it and Jaruka had less than great experience with newbie sorcerers.

“Victor, come on out and fight like—”

Someone screamed from the crowd.

“Oh, for Goddess sake,” Jaruka said turning. “Can I ever talk without interruption today?”

Jaruka and Deryl spotted the screamer amongst a crowd of local hippies. People backed away from him fearing the worst. He was dressed in hand-me-down clothes from a thrift store with sandals, screaming and writhing with a major headache. “Ah, God, stop! Get out! Get out!” He repeated with every scream. Two humans asked the man what was wrong but the hippie did not respond and continued screaming.

Jaruka watched the humans curiously, momentarily he forgot about Mathews, what was happening in the crowd felt familiar.

The hippie fell to his knees, yelling at the sky. At first Jaruka thought that it was a ruse, but he looked at the man closer and realized what he was seeing.

The man’s eyes were bloodshot.

“Can’t be,” he whispered. Jaruka pulled out his plasma pistol. He still had two shots left.

The hippie’s neck and spine cracked by themselves, easily heard over the people’s screams. Jaruka pulled back the pistol’s hammer.

The hippie dropped to his back.

Two humans ran to the body. “John! Oh, John, no!” Screamed the woman in tears. She must have been his girlfriend or wife from her similar rags. Some extremists in the crowd called it “demon magic” and tried blaming it on Jaruka.

“Close,” he said.

Deryl walked up but not closer, Jaruka’s face and his pistol out told him that he did not want to get too close.

The other man knelt beside the body, but screamed, “He’s breathing! Thank God he’s alive!”

The “dead” hippie opened his blood-gushing eyes and screamed the awful screech Jaruka knew too well.

The zombie grabbed the surprised man’s arm and swung him over his head, colliding with the woman. Jaruka blinked. The zombie was on his feet and the two humans were still on the ground.

“John! Bro! Cut it out!” The man yelled.

“John who?” It growled, sending chills through Jaruka.

The zombie grabbed the man by the collar and the woman was too scared to pull him back. Within seconds, the zombie twisted the man’s head around, then dug his hand into the man’s mouth. Jaruka’s stomach twisted as the zombie ripped out the man’s lower jaw, holding the flesh in his hand.

“John” stared down at the woman like a drunk hyped up on drugs. She did nothing but shiver in fear, traumatized by the gruesome murder. The zombie then jumped at her, the woman screamed, and he jammed the lower jaw into the woman’s right temple before driving his foot into her spine.

Ten seconds.

A newscaster described the event as her cameraman captured the footage. As if the zombie were annoyed, he took a stick from the ground and hurled it at the newscaster’s right shoulder. The cameraman dropped his equipment to grab her, but the deep wound was oozing blood fast from a severed vein.

Afterwards the zombie turned and screamed at Jaruka. Blood dripped off his eyes down his thin cheeks as he started running at the Halcunac.

Without his honor dead, he was still able to sense magical energies and he felt them from the zombie—the deep, black magic from Area 51. The zombie’s mouth was wide, baring his cavities. His muscles bulked up with every step, but that tipped Jaruka off. Enthralled zombies never bulk up that much, especially with a victim so thin before.

Which meant….

The zombie slammed into the inner shield. The shield rebounded the force, sailing the zombie twenty feet back where he landed on his feet.

“Mercenary!” He yelled, silencing the crowd. “You coward! Fight me!”

“I’ll pass,” Jaruka said, but the garbled voice became familiar. “Wait…Griffon?”

The right side of the zombie’s face went numb, down to the bobbling eyeball and his right arm was next.

“Look wha…that punk Dunne did to me!” He grunted. “I…this human was difficult to take…This…this pain. By Jove. What happened? What did that…pecker do to me!?” He paused for a breath. “Tell me—AH!”

His left knee and shin broke by itself, without action from the zombie. Bone cracked and muscle ripped apart, but the zombie kept his stance. The soldiers aimed their rifles, but did not fire even though the zombie attack across the country days ago permeated their minds.

“I’m immortal! This…cannot be happening!”

Jaruka smirked. “Well. I’ll give points to Scott. He crippled you good. Must be running on empty, right, Griffon? From the rapid decay, I’d say five minutes.”

“Who’s Griffon?” Deryl asked.

“The one that captured me, Scott, and the sorceress.”

“Right,” Deryl said and half raised his Sig Saur. “Wait. Sorceress?”

“Don’t bother.”

The zombie yelled with a hand on his chest. “The host’s heart and kidney ruptured. Good deduction, Halcunac,” Griffon said.

“Make that seconds.” Jaruka sneered.

There was another bone snap. The zombie made irregular breaths as he held the left side of his chest.

“Y-You think you’re safe?” The zombie said, he gave a small laugh, but winced as he spoke. “You won’t…last a week on…this planet. Gah. Just wait, Halcunac. I will get you, and those kids.”

“I’ll make sure you don’t.” Jaruka showed his pistol, not pointing it in any direction in particular. “They are my watchers, and witnesses.”

The zombie licked his lips, tasting the blood. “My people will enjoy watching you die. Just you wait.”

Jaruka glanced back at the dropship. Scott and Katie were outside with their totems. Scott stood rigid with a hand on his chest scar, Katie kept him from getting closer.

“Oh yes, mercenary, there are more…lots more,” Griffon said before both femurs broke and he dropped to the ground. “We will get you…Especially…that witch Dunne bangs.”

Katie stepped closer, but Scott kept her from getting too far away from the dropship.

The zombie made a predatory laugh, low and menacing.

A scream from the tattooed woman earlier, standing yards from the zombie broke his act. People backed away as she gripped her tattooed hand. Her hand ruptured as blue and white marbling liquid began to cover her arm. “Somebody! Help me!” She yelled.

The circle formed as her clothes were consumed. Nobody helped her, or dared to. All watched in silence as she transformed into a terran like Scott and Katie.

The zombie snickered at her. “Pitiful,” he said, and then he screamed before his head exploded clean off its neck. The body convulsed for a second, blood staining the soil.

Deryl and the humans looked away, but not Jaruka and the terrans.

“Just like all the others,” Jaruka said.

----------------------------------------

Half mile southeast of Lake Skinner

Temecula, CA

Few hours later…

The dropship hovered a hundred feet above ground as it slowly lowered onto its new location. The sky was filled with an orange glow from the setting sun, and the ship appeared as a misshapen black object. People tracked it, even built a caravan of cars and busses, but they were diverted away by the military.

It was Deryl’s idea to move Jaruka, not Mathews’.

The first site was declared unlivable once word came out what those missiles were and what they were capable of carrying. Evacuating the charred area was a safe bet.

The new location—one acre of land west of a small hill—was cleared by City Council and Forest Service as a dedicated extraterrestrial campsite, as long as the local wildlife and vegetation were not disturbed or threatened. Jaruka accepted the terms and location without question. It was not hard at all for Scott and Katie to convince Jaruka to move, he would be closer to the winery, but far from major pockets of people.

The landing struts extended from the hull as it glided down. Scott and Katie had stopped by the winery before returning, taking Robert’s Jeep back with them to the new landing site. Katie carried a wrapped object in a paper bag in her arm, holding it tight like a treasure. They approached Deryl, standing by his own car and talking on his cellphone.

The dropship touched down, the thrusters were killed and the lights flicked on.

“Yes, Yes, Mathews is leaving for Langley right now,” Deryl said on the phone. The couple did not speak to Mathews afterwards, and he had nothing to say to them. He was still shaken after the attack and the zombie’s appearance. “Yes, I’ll make sure of that, sir.” Deryl was too into the phone call to notice Scott. “He say….Oh, good. Finally….Nobody goes near him without permission. Got it.”

The dropship’s shield activated and grew as it had before. Scott spotted Jaruka leaving the bridge, but he did not leave the ship.

Deryl sat on the SUV’s front bumper. “Of course he has the paper….Yes, I’ll review them with him soon, but he said he can handle it….Understood, sir. Uh huh. Uh huh. And what about the captain?” Deryl paused and his eyes widened. “Jesus.”

Scott and Katie exchanged worried glances. Their totems materialized, Keeji sat close to Scott, and Arana stood on the SUV’s hood. Neither totem fazed Deryl.

“Understood, sir. Will have the report tomorrow at 0800. Talk to you—” He moved the phone from his ear looking lost. “He hung up,” he said and leaned forward holding his head, rubbing his face. “God dammit.”

“Who was that?” Scott asked.

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Deryl did not speak for a moment, and then looked up at Scott. “Do you have any idea how shocked I am you’re this healthy?”

Scott did not answer.

“You know,” Deryl continued, “ever since you left the hospital, we tried. We tried everything to lose that weight. It took over six months just for you to lose one pound.”

“I remember,” Scott said nodding, “and we have a reason to ignore it now. Come on, who was that on the phone?”

“Now look at you. Thin. Back to what you were before the tragedy. Except the whole…magic…tail…stuff.”

Scott exhaled. “Deryl, we can talk about my weight loss and mana heart later.” He asked again, firmer.

Deryl shook his head, agreeing. “Well. That was CIA Director Greg Haze. Mathews’ superior.”

“I remember him.”

“Can you guess how scared and pissed he was?”

“More than the people surrounding the ship hours ago?” Katie asked.

“Like a raging bull,” Deryl said. “He and Mathews sure learned their lesson, more for Mathews. He, the CIA, my employer, and every private organization is trying to be more aware of the Republic’s conditions. The President himself is going on air to address everybody to stay away from Jaruka. So yes, I am in over my head in doing my job.”

“It’s good, I think. The more informed the better, right?” Scott said.

“No, it’s not, son. Besides being a secret, everybody will want to see him. Imagine North Korea or Al-Qaeda trolling over, asking how to operate his weapons. Having him here he…he’s a dangerous tourist attraction for sure.”

“The shield will keep them out,” Katie reminded him.

“But not his mouth, or his presence pissing others off.” Deryl stood and kicked some dirt. “Great idea, man. Move him here near Scott. Good for you.”

Even if Deryl wanted to, Scott thought it would be best not to have Deryl and Denverbay talk face to face.

“It’s not your fault, you were pressured,” Arana said.

“Probably right.” He looked at the ship. “I don’t know how to keep a riot from happening here. I’m just sure he has a plan.”

Jaruka still had not come out. Scott noticed people getting passed the soldiers to make camp, but were turned around, even begging did not help.

“Speaking of riot,” Scott said. “You mentioned captain. What captain? The one we just met?”

“Not him, the missiles,” Deryl said. “Maybe you know this but it’s the same MO as the zombie reports. A U.S. Navy destroyer in San Diego launched the missiles. None of them had warheads, thank God. My friend in forensics said the crew all had bloody eyes and mutilated bodies. How they killed themselves was not disclosed.”

There are more…lots more, Scott thought and scratched his chest scar. “You don’t think?” He asked Katie.

Katie shook her head saying, “No, maybe not him. And stop scratching it.”

“Who?” Deryl asked.

“The one that spoke through that guy, but…it can’t be. There has to be more than just one.”

“More?” Deryl asked.

“Reapers,” Scott said, but said no more.

“Tell me later.” Deryl shook his head. “But the captain I’ll tell you.” He paused. “He was sliced in half in his cabin. Vertically.” Deryl paused again to swallow. “Those are small rooms, and nothing on earth can do that with so little space, I don’t know what would have that kind of agility. Not even the sharpest weapon could do that. Who does that? Or what?”

“Reapers. Bad motherfuckers,” Keeji answered.

Katie shrugged in agreement.

Deryl leaned back and said, “Right. Later. God this headache is killing me.”

Scott had known Deryl since he was a toddler. He was a true, close friend and godfather of Scott’s late parents. Deryl was a Marine that had served on Navy cruisers for deployment, then retired and became a U.S. Marshal. He had a family, and Scott could tell that the terran concepts were frightening to Deryl, he dreaded to think of the transformation happening to his daughters.

“I got something,” Scott said. “Go home. Grace and the kids must be worried about you. Katie and I will talk to Jaruka.”

Deryl smirked. “I’ll do that. But…you sure? I’ve seen the weapons this guy packs.”

Scott pointed at the dropship. “We know how to talk to him…I think.”

“Okay,” Deryl said nodding, “but still, a non-threat unless provoked. Never imagine dealing with this is my lifetime.”

“Those conditions,” Katie said. “How is the government handling this?”

“Embedding those rules in their brains I guess,” Deryl said. “Speaking of government. Word is getting out.”

Keeji cocked his head to the right.

Arana said, “In what way, sir? I’m aware that most of the House, Senate, and White House members were zombies and killed. Have they announced a plan to bounce back?”

“No.” Deryl paused to scratch his hair. “After the address ten minutes from now, the President will announce his resignation as of today. His oldest daughter got a tattoo.” He raked his hair back. “And to think, I voted for that guy.”

----------------------------------------

The documents were scattered on the bench. A United States passport with a missing photo and misspelled name. Jason Teal. Really? Official citizenship documents with the correct name, but race was listed as “Pacific Islander.” A California green card, also with missing photo. An over-the-counter book of the United States Constitution, not translated to Halcunac. A stack of business cards for Deryl, Mathews, the Walsh family and company, Scott, and a few government officials for questions and inquiries. If only they would have left him a cellphone.

And a hundred dollar bill.

Jaruka expected more; a shuttle ticket off the planet, or a text translator. A bottle of Kimana Gin sounded better, that stuff made worries flush away for an hour.

Jaruka was not sure if to keep the documents or burn them at night, his only worry was that destroying the documents would aggravate Brill and Denverbay.

The dropship’s hatch door was knocked on. Jaruka closed his eyes. “If it’s Mathews, I am not answering it,” he whispered.

The knocking persisted, followed by Scott’s voice. “Hey, Jaruka. We want to come in.” Jaruka wanted to be alone, but even so, he answered, he trusted them.

Jaruka stood, grabbed the bottle of Nova Company brew he had uncorked, and opened the hatch as he took a sip. “Can’t you see I’m busy?”

Scott, Katie, Keeji, and Arana looked up. “I don’t think so,” Katie said.

Jaruka leaned out. “Is Deryl with you?”

“I gave him a break,” Scott said. “Can we talk?”

“About what?”

“The papers. Those spires Victor mentioned. What to do. What not to do. You know? Stuff. Important stuff.” Scott made emphasis on those remaining words.

Jaruka took a long breath, and then nudged his head for them to come in. He turned toward the paper-covered bench and took a drink. “Are you here to scold me for not telling you?”

“You don’t look well,” Katie said.

“No crog.”

“Need help?”

“I’m fine. Get to the croging point,” he said setting the bottle down, making Katie jitter a little.

“Hey, enough with the attitude,” Scott said. “You’re not the only one with an interesting day. People are dead.”

“No shit.”

“And Victor was scared to shit.”

“Ain’t that a surprise. He learned his lesson.”

“How could you say that, Mr. Teal?” Arana said. “If you have any chance to cooperate with humans and terrans, might as well lighten your selfish attitude.”

“You really believe I’m selfish, bird? I’m useless here. This intel job is not what I wanted to do for two years. In any way I see it, the Council will put me down if I do or don’t do the job.”

“Gathering information on us and the world is one thing, making an example of yourself is another, and will reflect on me and Katie’s family. We get it,” Scott said. “Now, from the very beginning tell us about the conditions and these spires. What are they?”

Jaruka pulled back a few dreads with a smirk. He sat down on a clear bench seat and said, “Who told you?”

“Deryl.”

“How much did he go over?” Jaruka asked.

Katie said, “Satellites targeting and attacking places on earth whenever anybody injures you.”

It was true, but it was not everything. “That’s all he said?”

“Oh, and to treat you with respect and with high hospitality.”

“Not that formal.” Jaruka took a drink. “Like every government member, there’s always a layer of secrecy. He must be scared of you two knowing everything. That will get people killed.”

Scott gulped.

“I’m a tolerance test,” Jaruka said. “Being an Archive’s lackey, I’m here to see how humans cope with off-worlders. Denverbay’s brilliant plan in case I don’t go to trial. I didn’t care either way, my life is ruined as it is.”

Katie said, “Before trial? That’s messed up.”

“Those satellites,” Jaruka said, pointing upwards, “and you’ll see them soon.”

“I have. Here,” Katie said. She revealed her cellphone and flicked to a picture she had saved earlier. “Is this it?” She asked showing Jaruka the NASA photo.

Jaruka nodded. “That’s it alright. They’re called Titan Spires. A.I. controlled solar and nuclear powered plasma and chaotic energy cannons. The Galactic Council’s sure fire way of eliminating real Republic threats without the loss of precious Royal Navy infantry or vehicles. You deal with one and your fleet is wiped out in seconds. No matter what, the Council never tolerates insurrections, especially with primitive species such as yourselves.”

“Hey,” Keeji said.

“Like a trump card, right?” Scott asked.

“Don’t know what that human term means. I’ve seen them work before, but also against planets. The energy compound never destroys, only transmutes, turning planet surfaces into desolate, fertile soil and ships into space rock. Organisms are…composted. Anything outside the beam is on fire, sonic blasted, or roasted. Check your news, some of Mathews’ ‘friends’ were cooked, I think.”

“Jesus,” Scott said.

“Now here’s where you’ll hate Denverbay as I.” Jaruka propped his collared leg on an adjacent bench. “The A.I. is probably somewhere close, but that is connected to this band.” The black band between his knees had distinctive grey stripes. “The soulless A.I. is programmed to fire the spires if anything happens to me. It is listening, right now. Your ‘internet.’ My heartbeat. Those spires are coming, and there’s nothing to stop them. Unless you swoon Denverbay off his spikes, that won’t happen.”

“Wait, more. You said more?” Scott asked.

Jaruka slowly nodded. “Dozens. Standard against Red Flagged protected planets. They will orbit Terra Firma in the coming days. By then you’ll see them by telescope and dotting the night sky picking up your sun’s light.”

Katie looked floored and she sat down on a crate. Arana flapped and perched next to her. “Jesus. That’s insane.”

“You think that’s insane? The conditions are worse.”

“How so?” Scott asked.

Jaruka finished the bottle and belched. He set the bottle down but it toppled and rolled off onto the floor. “First, I think, you two and your family are exempt. Everybody else is watching their backs against me. What I do recall…” He hiccuped. “…Any government or military member—like dumbass Mathews—even touch me without a threat, and that includes a single finger, a spire or more trigger and target an area the person works for or from.”

Jaruka heard someone scream but he was unsure who it belonged to. Keeji shivered a little.

“Arrests, beatings, even a skin scratch, the spire fires, or spires. Normal citizens are exempt, I hope. Oh and the best part,” Jaruka said in a sarcastic tone, “if I die, a quarter of the planet is composted from my location.”

The terrans did not take that bit well. “Fucking hell,” Scott said. “Why?”

“A message to never mess with the Galactic Council and somehow send your species a few hundred years behind in evolution. I don’t know, it’s my guess.”

“So,” Arana said. “If you die here, the United States is eradicated?”

“Kuido,” Jaruka said.

“That’s bingo, right?”

“Kuido.” Jaruka sniffed. “No matter how you preach your gods, or parade nuclear weapons, the answer will always lead to death.”

“But what if a foreign power tries to kill you?” Scott asked.

Jaruka laughed. “I told you. The land is composted where I die.”

“I meant before.”

“Oh, then yeah. I’ll check with the A.I., when I try talking to it.”

“Shit. So what about everybody else that’s not a government member.”

“Oh, that,” Jaruka said leaning back. “Any idiot human, or terran, can beat me up unless my life is threatened or I die.”

“Okay,” Katie said. “So what will you do to stop it from happening?”

Jaruka stood up. “For one, the dropship’s shield. Two, this?” He lifted his loner shirt above his pecks.

“What the heck is that?” Keeji asked.

Over Jaruka sternum was a clear, vertical stretched hexagon crystal, trapped in a chrome frame and seemingly attached to the bone. It brightened every few seconds.

“I saw that when we put you into the bathtub,” Katie said. “What is it?”

“A PSD.”

“English?”

“Personal shield device. Custom Vyroken hybrid tech.”

“Vyroken.” Katie thought.

“Don’t think too hard. In fact, don’t ask about them. Ever,” Jaruka said. “It’s what prevented your brother from breaking my neck, and that guy with the gun. Any threat and it protects me. Gives off a nasty kick and some whiplash sometimes but I never wander without it.” The shirt was lowered back down. “Make this your only choice. Leave. Me. Alone.”

The only sound was the military helicopter flying overhead, then leaving. Jaruka’s black eyes and gold iris’ made certain the terrans and totems understood, yet the husky wanted to blab.

“Well…what about holidays? Or when we are bored and what to bug you?” Keeji suggested, but he was ignored.

Scott’s hands went to his hips. “That’s it? You stay under a shield for two years?”

Jaruka paused and then said, “Pretty much.”

“There is food and cabin fever,” Katie said.

Jaruka rolled his eyes. “I have immunity nanites in my veins. Watching races will be figure out soon. I can eat your food when I want to, but not really. I’ve seen your ‘fast food.’ Makes me sick just looking at it.”

“We have organic alternatives.”

“I don’t trust it. I’ll manage,” Jaruka beamed.

“Alright, fine. Keep your honor,” Katie stood, but kept talking. “Those symbols, on your stained clothes and your shoulders. What are they?”

“Come on, Katie, not now,” Scott pressed.

“Hang on, just hear me out. This is important.”

It was one thing to see and meet Jaruka face to face, but learning about his past was another. Katie was the most curious since Area 51, asking countless questions about other aliens, technology, magic, and certain spells correlating to the Wave. Jaruka was grateful that when he answered, Katie was satisfied. She was a curious woman and he was careful to not share sensitive information that could be used against him.

Jaruka leaned over to the trash bag and fished out the stained white tunic, showing the left sleeve. “This symbol is mine, my signature.”

“Got it,” Katie said. “And that one?”

Jaruka grumbled. “The middle symbol is Nova Company’s emblem. Rank. Class.”

“And the red one?”

“What are you getting at?” Scott asked her.

“Watch. And the red one?”

“This,” Jaruka started, and an instant, memories flashed through his head. “The red one is called a demoncatcher, a symbol of the Kuzi species meaning ‘patient hunter.’ Earned that for fighting in the Goomash Raid. And these two…”

He ripped off his loner shirt’s sleeves clean off the seams to show two identical symbols on his shoulders; a circle, with one line connecting to a ring around his biceps. “These are Wadik acceptance tattoos. After I rescued a politician’s daughter from a war-stricken world, these make me an honorary Wadik citizen. Since then those magical beings got me out of a lot of jams.”

Arana nodded. “You must have tons of connections and respect.”

“Tons is an underrated word in space,” Jaruka said, “and I can’t call any of them.”

Katie sighed. “Then why not have respect from us? Honor from us? Why did you make that second shield and save those people? It’s not right to burn this bridge just on prejudice alone.”

“Your point?”

Katie pocketed her hands and her tail swished from right to left. “I just said it. Don’t shelter yourself from us. We’re not here to annoy you. Brill told us to take care of you.”

“I can’t see that happening.”

“Fine. Be that way,” Scott said, “but don’t come to us dirty and smelling of gym socks again. Come on, Katie. Let’s leave him alone.” He tugged on Katie’s arm, and did not question the gesture.

“Oh, one more thing,” Katie said holding out the brown bag to Jaruka. He had not asked about the bag, but no doubt the shape was similar.

“Not that. He said he’ll live without earth food.”

“I can’t help it,” she said. “Jaruka, you saved us, and pretty much we helped save you. We’re even. But if there’s any humility in that alien brain of yours, show it.” She set the bag on the bench, it clanked on the metal. “A welcoming gift, from us.”

The paper bag was tied shut with a dark red ribbon, the Walsh Estate Winery symbol printed on the front. A bottle spout stuck out from the top, sealed tight in black plastic.

Jaruka stared at it, and said nothing.

Scott rolled his eyes.

“The winery is organic,” Katie said. “Always has been. If for any reason you need help, let us know. Be calm about it.”

Jaruka sniffed. “Are you done?”

Katie rolled her eyes. “Yeah. We’re done. Come.”

The totems entered their hosts as the couple left. Scott stood in front of the open hatch, looking back at Jaruka. “Welcome to Earth,” he said.

Once the hatch closed itself, Jaruka was alone, staring at the wrapped wine bottle.