The real world came back into focus.

The server room was cold, and Urle took a deep breath of it, savoring that it was real and not merely simulated.

His body had been breathing, but when he’d been in the digital world he’d not felt any of it.

As he had promised to JaxIn, he went into the server logs, hiding all traces of himself and obfuscating the data even more to keep his hidden world a secret.

He was not sure what to make of the man and his selfish dreamworld, but he had given his word and he would keep it.

Kell was peering down at him, and Urle got to his feet.

“Let’s get out of here, and then I’ll tell you everything,” he said.

Ten minutes later, using the same gaps in the defenses as before, they were free.

“I need to sit,” Urle said. Kell offered no objection as they went to an automated noodle kiosk and took a seat at the bar. Only one other person was here, a man had two mechanical legs and a hand, his bare head pale and scarred. He paid them no mind, and Urle scanned the noodle drones for spying equipment, but found them to be as simple as they appeared.

He told Kell what he’d found, the being listening in silence.

“. . . There’s a lot of data to pore through,” he concluded. “But I’ve got the key stuff. There’s a man we’re looking for, but we only have an alias, not his real name – Ji. It’s pretty common as a name, but the right people will hopefully know who we mean. We’ll have to hit up the information brokers.”

Kell was considering. “So the man had no issue with the fact that he had been murdered?” he asked.

“No. It wasn’t . . . ‘him’, so I don’t think he cared.”

“An interesting point of view,” Kell said. “I am not sure how I would feel if I was murdered. I believe that I would want revenge.”

“Well, I’m pretty sure this guy was just selfish as hell,” Urle grunted, taking his cup of noodles and eating a few. They were surprisingly good, he thought.

Kell drank down his cup in a single swallow.

“Do you know how to find these information brokers?” he asked.

“I know some ways,” Urle replied. “The only real issue is that they’re real picky about their customers. Don’t want to get caught dealing in stolen data, you know? So follow my lead.”

Kell gave him a curt nod. “I broke my earlier promise to you, about hurting no one. I will not again.”

Urle found himself very surprised by the seriousness with which the being had taken its earlier flippant remark.

“Well . . . thanks,” he said.

He hesitated. It really wasn’t the only reason he should be thanking Kell. Despite how traumatizing it had been, the Ambassador had saved him.

“And also – thanks for helping me. You saved my life, and I haven’t exactly been grateful about that.”

Kell’s expression was mildly confused. “You do not need to thank me.”

Urle looked back down to his noodles, stirring them around. He felt oddly humbled.

The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

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

“Nor, I am so pleased you have returned alive from imbibing poison,” Y said cheerfully.

“You make it sound more fun than it turned out to be,” Apollonia replied with a nervous laugh. “I got a bottle thrown at my head.”

“Yes, I am pleased you either avoided it or it was poorly aimed.” He turned to Jaya, who Apollonia thought looked nearly nervous.

“Ah, and Chief of Operations, you too appear to be alive, if slightly worse for the wear. It is fortunate that you have a synthetic liver and muscles to aid you in staying that way.”

“Yes,” Jaya replied. “Only a few bruises.”

“Attained in a successful combat, I understand. How glorious.”

“It was not my intent to cause a fight-“

“No? My apologies, I assumed it was, as this has happened several times you have gone drinking on Gohhi.”

Apollonia’s jaw dropped, caught half-way in hopping up onto a medical bed to sit. She looked at Jaya, who had pursed her lips.

“I will never understand why your kind imbibe poison, but I will prepare the counter-agent. You will suffer from the results of your own actions for only a little longer!” Y turned to Apollonia. “Would you like something to rid yourself of your hangover as well, Nor?”

“Er, yeah. That’s a thing? Hell yeah I’ll take it.”

“Drinking is cultural,” Jaya stated sternly.

“And fun,” Apollonia added.

Y ignored her and turned back to Jaya.

“Oh? That is interesting, I understand that synthetic alcohol substitutes allowed all of the same range of activities without actually impairing judgment to a dangerous degree. Or causing damage to vital organs.”

“Synthetic alcohol is nothing like the real thing,” Jaya insisted. “All believed that we’d switch to it – yet we have not. It is something simply produced in a laboratory, not hand-crafted in a way deeply connected to our cultural roots. It is something that humans have done for over ten thousand years. For good or ill, it is a part of who we are.”

Y paused, taking that in for a moment in silence. “That is an interesting point, Commander. It almost made me forget that it is also a potent toxin and carcinogen.”

“Which is why you are here,” Jaya replied, dryly.

“. . . and contains enough energy in its molecular bonds to power an internal combustion engine. But thank you for this very enlightening lesson on the essence of human culture.”

Jaya took a deep breath, clearly holding back some sharp words.

She probably realized she could not win with Y, not on this, Apollonia mused.

Y came over to her, holding something up to her arm. “This will help flush the toxins from your system and relieve the pain. Afterwards, I recommend drinking unadulterated water.”

“Whatever you say, doc,” Apollonia replied. He gave her the shot, and she felt almost nothing.

“Really? Then I will add that you should not drink alcohol again,” he continued.

“. . . I might agree to that,” Apollonia said. “I mean I did get pretty lost.”

The shot was already making her headache disappear. She felt almost like herself – just a little thirsty.

Y approached Jaya. “Would you like me to omit the painkiller so that you may experience the full fruit of your evening?” he asked helpfully.

“That will be unnecessary,” Jaya said, scowling, but then looked past him. “How did you find your way back without your tablet, Apollonia? We were not able to recover it, but we detected it was lost.”

Apollonia winced. “Do I get in trouble for losing it?”

“Given the circumstances, no,” Jaya said. “We can issue you a new one, and your old one already will have locked up and deleted any sensitive data. But I am quite impressed with your pathfinding skills in a place as difficult as Gohhi.”

“Well . . . I had help,” Apollonia admitted, hopping back to her feet. “I found this church guy – he was actually pretty nice.”

Jaya looked serious. “Did he ask you for anything?”

“No, not a thing. He seemed happy to help me just because he could. He was from a group called, uh . . . the Esoteric Order.”

“I see,” Jaya replied, looking troubled. Y had stepped away, and Jaya got up from her seat as well.

“The Esoteric Order,” Y commented. “They are a religious order founded seven years ago. The exact point of their origin is unknown, with some small presence in the Sapient Union, but a much larger range outside of it. Their faith has become widespread in parts of Gohhi, especially among the fringe. They even have some presence in Glorian space-“

Jaya interrupted him. “The man who helped you, how did you meet him?”

“I went to his church and told him I was lost,” Apollonia admitted. “He guided me to the spaceport.”

“You found him, not the other way around?”

“Yeah . . .”

“What was he like?”

Apollonia frowned. “Why are you so curious about him?”

“No real reason,” Jaya told her.

Something seemed off with her, but Apollonia continued on.

“He was a young man, maybe around my age. Blonde. Kind of handsome. He had this . . . calmness about him.” She shrugged. “I dunno, he was just really nice and helpful. Can’t say more than that – I didn’t even get his name.”

“Ah, I see,” Jaya replied, with a forced casualness.

Apollonia could tell, though, that something was bothering her.