Novels2Search
Revolutions
Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Sixteen

Takka and Dino wanted to play Ticket to Ride. I think Ambassador Takka had some new strategies in mind, so I left them to it. Chrissy, who seemed preoccupied, and I sat out the first game on the couch. “Have you found any new recipes?” asked Chrissy.

“I’ve been a little busy with these murders, but I did acquire an alien recipe from Smith. How did your bowling go?”

“Ah, you know. Canada didn’t make it to Round Two. My bowling was pretty good, but the Australians were super-hot. I’ve never seen them bowl that well. So good on them.” Chrissy paused. “Tari, I’m thinking about dating someone.”

“Great! It’ll be a little less stressful now that you’re out of the competition.” Okay, so I’d momentarily lost my sense of tact. However, my statement didn’t seem to bother Chrissy.

“Yes, although there is some stress involved.”

“Well, dating is always stressful.” And I personally had no need for any new relationships, at this time.

“Yes, but… Okay, I’ll just blurt it out. Smith and I have been eyeing each other for a short time. Don’t get me wrong—not while you guys were together.” Chrissy nervously anticipated my reaction.

“You don’t need my permission. Smith’s a good guy— just not my type. Have fun.” I tried not to be curt.

“Oh, that’s a relief. I wasn’t sure how you were going to take it. You guys were together for quite a while.”

I smiled brightly, though I needed to think about the two of them in a relationship.

“I think I’ll go to Revolutions and have a chat with Smith. He needed to work tonight,” said Chrissy.

I gave her a hug and waved her off.

Pensive, I remained on the couch, my mind awhirl. Now I knew why Smith had wanted to talk to me.

The front door opened and Raj entered. He spotted me on the couch and sat beside me. “A little sad?” he asked.

“A little, but I was thinking about Chrissy and Smith, not Maori, right now.”

“Chrissy and Smith?”

“Yeah, they’re going to have a fling and wanted to talk to me about it first.”

“Oh.” Apparently, Raj didn’t know quite what to say. “Well, I have some news for you. I have the results from the blood samples. Maori was poisoned with an alien substance.”

“Alien? I need to call Dr. Cabin.” Hysteria bubbled to the surface.

“I’ve already called and given him the details. On one level, he was relieved. He didn’t think she should have died,” said Raj.

“I know. I need to call him and quiz him about his day. I need to find out how this happened.”

“Give the guy a bit of rest. Call him in the morning. Now show me how to play a board game—one I haven’t tried before.”

Raj was a sweetheart and knew I needed a distraction. So Jack, Suze, and I introduced the ME to Settlers of Catan.

It struck me as strange for Brian’s wife, Suze, to come to game night without him, but I’d wanted to chat with her because it had been far too long since our last contact.

Raj picked up Settlers of Catan easily. He loved to put his little roads all over the place. Raj commented that they reminded him of arteries—pretty bizarre, in my opinion.

“Tari, you’re sure keeping Brian busy having meetings with all these aliens,” said Suze.

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, for the last two weeks he’s been leaving early in the morning to meet one alien or another. I think they’re diplomats, but he doesn’t really talk about who he’s meeting.”

“Which diplomats has he met with?” I tugged on my left ear; I didn’t know quite what to make of her statement.

“I don’t really know. I figured it’s confidential, so I didn’t quiz him. He seems to be enjoying the meetings though.”

“Yes, of course. We’re dealing with a lot of aliens regarding the murders, as you can imagine. Now, how’re you feeling? This must be pretty exciting.”

Suze spent a few moments discussing her pregnancy but, mostly, we concentrated on the board game.

During our clean up of Settlers of Catan, Dino said to Mom, “Can you tell us a little about the time you discovered our listening post on the Moon?” Mom had joined us during the game—just to watch, of course.

“Why don’t you let Tari tell you the story—she was in the middle of it.”

I looked at her, and said, “Everything?”

She nodded, and tried to hide a smile.

“Okay, children, gather round,” I said. I hadn’t told this story for years.

When Tari was Seventeen

“Mom, did your detectives solve any murders today?” My window of opportunity to quiz her usually occurred at dinnertime.

Tracy Dominion, an assistant commissioner in the RCMP, gave me a glance that could have withered stone. I’m exaggerating; she’s a pretty good type. However, I’d experienced the reactions from her subordinates to that look, so I knew its effectiveness. I had personally received the glance because of her conviction of my obsessiveness with dead people—it seemed like a normal teenage reaction to me.

“No murders today, solved or otherwise, Tari. However, I did receive a report titled Aliens Amongst Us. I almost didn’t read it, but the document came from a well-respected scientist at Simon Fraser University.” SFU was founded in the early sixties, its location at the summit of Burnaby Mountain.

“They found real aliens? Can I take a look?” Her words floored me. By 2019, alien sightings had fallen dramatically.

“No bodies, sorry. However, we found an unusual piece of electronic equipment mounted on a steep portion of Burnaby Mountain.”

“What were the Mounties doing—combing hillsides looking for terrorists?”

“If we were, there would be no confirmation from me.” My mother’s grin delighted me. “A couple of tourists got stranded on Burnaby Mountain and the search and rescue crew noticed a cave during the retrieval. A glance inside suggested to them that the RCMP should investigate. A subsequent search revealed the electronic equipment, and we gave it to SFU to study.”

“So what did your Aliens amongst Us report say about the equipment?”

“The paperwork suggests—you know scientists—the equipment is of unknown origin. There were no marks to indicate where it had been manufactured. The SFU scientist, Dr. George Timmins, said he and his colleagues have no idea what it’s for. All they can determine is that it’s transmitting.”

“Transmitting?” I looked at her, and I had an idea. “Although your information is sparse, this looks like an interesting research project. May I have a copy of the report?” I knew I trod on shaky ground with my request.

A long moment passed. “As long as this research doesn’t interfere with your schoolwork, I don’t see why not. What topics are you considering?”

Mom watched intently, so I needed to sound professional. “I would like to find out if any other mysterious items have been uncovered. If I find any, then I want to study their similarities and differences. Perhaps a pattern will emerge.”

“Sounds like a good plan. Progress reports would be appropriate.” Subtlety didn’t always work with me, so my mother usually made her requests quite clear.

For the remainder of dinner, we discussed our upcoming summer holidays. Then my next few days were a blur of research. My current homework load was light so I had ample opportunity to fly around the web. However, I quickly came to the conclusion I needed to implement a more specific plan. I decided to stick to anything unusual in Canada and, in particular, I narrowed my search to electronics and commed Dr. George Timmins at SFU. He answered my call with some reluctance. “I’m not sure what additional information I can give Assistant Commissioner Dominion. Is she looking for anything in particular?”

Since my mother didn’t know I’d taken the initiative to call SFU, I stretched the truth a little; what could it hurt? “She hoped you’d developed some further ideas on the object’s use,” I told him, letting him think I was calling on her behalf. “The commissioner needs to consider any security threats.” Plausible, I thought.

“The only data we’ve uncovered is that it’s transmitting on a frequency no one uses.”

“Why is this frequency unused?” A curious fact.

“It’s very low, and most of our equipment would get what we call rattled by it.”

“Rattled?” The term didn’t sound very scientific.

“Simply put, they wouldn’t work very well.”

“Thanks for the info. I’ll be sure Assistant Commissioner Dominion receives it.”

“Does she want a report?” Dr. Timmins sounded confused.

“No, that’s not necessary. I’ll just append the additional information to your previous report.” I’d lost control of the words spewing from my mouth.

I hovered on the edge of panic for a couple of days, but my mother appeared at ease. Hopefully, I would survive my lack of discretion.

In my spare moments, I continued my research. Approaching end of year exams made my time limited. And then I found it—another possible link.

An article had appeared in a Halifax newspaper describing an object found on the top of an abandoned fish factory. The sun shining on the roof had caught someone’s attention, and they had notified the RCMP.

For some reason, my intuition said this item would be important. I weighed my options for a day, and then called the RCMP in Halifax. “I’m calling from Assistant Commissioner Dominion’s office. I need to talk to someone about the object found at the fish factory.” I crossed my fingers and hoped they wouldn’t ask many questions.

“I’ll put you through to Sergeant Thomas in the electronics lab,” said the receptionist.

Kept on hold forever, I finally heard Sergeant Thomas say, “Who are you and what would the commissioner like to know?”

I hesitated—I didn’t know how I should answer his question. I gave in to my misgivings. “I’m the commissioner’s daughter and she told me about the item found in Burnaby. I found it so fascinating I decided to do some research and see if other items had surfaced. My studies led me to the object on the roof of your factory.”

“I’m glad you decided to be honest, Ms. Dominion. I just spoke with Assistant Commissioner Dominion. She’s quite disappointed in your actions.” His facial expression mimicked my mother at her sternest.

Oh my, I could only guess how much trouble would be coming my way.

“However,” continued Sergeant Thomas, “she has allowed me to discuss our object with you.”

His statement left me confused, but I needed to seize the opportunity. “Sergeant Thomas, would you describe this item, please?”

I watched him pick up his com. “Better yet, let me show you.” I watched in wonder as he covered every inch of the artifact.

The officer continued, “As you can see, the object has no distinguishing marks to identify its manufacturer. In fact, we’re not sure what kind of metal, or metals, it consists of. At the moment, we’re only doing non-destructive testing.” Then he actually smiled. “Do you have any questions?”

“What are you looking for?” Similar in shape to Burnaby’s artifact, I tried to discern something new.

“We don’t start off having predetermined ideas. We use logic to eliminate possibilities, and narrow down our search. Have you taken any chemistry courses?”

“Yes,” I said, confused by his question.

“Think of this as qualitative chemistry. We eliminate sections of possibilities, one by one, until we are left with the one and only answer.”

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

I understood what he was telling me. “And how’s that working out with this blob of metal?”

“Not very well, actually. The facts don’t seem to fit into our normal logic tree.” Sergeant Thomas scrubbed his hands over his face.

“What does this artifact do? Is it important?” I asked. I needed to hone up on my querying techniques. I suspected some important questions eluded me.

“The only detail we’ve uncovered is the fact it’s transmitting. However, we’ve not been able to decipher the transmission.”

“What kind of frequency is it using?”

“Quite low.”

Similar to Burnaby’s—an interesting correlation. “Okay, thanks for your help. I won’t bother you anymore.” I received the expected lecture at dinner that evening.

“Yes, I agree I had a lapse in judgment. In the future, I won’t talk to anyone else about these objects or any other sensitive subjects.” I shook my head. “Is it okay if I continue to do some research, though? These objects fascinate me.”

“Tari, your major lapse in judgment was impersonating one of my employees.” Correct as always, Mom put me in my place. “However, I do understand your interest. Continue your research when you have a chance, but only on the public internet. No hacking, please.”

I frowned and sat up straighter. “I would never do that.”

“I made that statement because I want you to understand the seriousness of the situation. You need to recognize I am involved and we need to keep everything squeaky clean.”

Correctly, she informed me I had overstepped my bounds. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think. I got caught up in the moment.”

“Too many teenage hormones floating about, I would guess. In the future, at least think twice about your actions.”

I really did know better. I hoped her theory of teenaged angst proved correct.

In a moment, my mother continued. “I received some information today. I’d asked our local science lab to use one of our satellites to sweep Canada for other indications of this frequency the artifacts use. Unbelievably, they found another signal source.”

“An artifact?” I resisted the urge to jump up and down.

“We don’t know. They found an area emitting the same frequency previously discovered.”

“Where?” I held my breath.

“In the Yukon.” I swear my mother held back a smile.

“Then I think that’s a good place to go for our holidays.” Pleased with my deduction, I grinned.

“You’re so predictable.” Mom laughed. “I’ve made arrangements for us to go there after your last day of school. Since that’s only a week away, do you think you’ll be able to contain yourself until then?”

I ran around the table and hugged her. “Thank you, thank you, and thank you! This is so exciting!”

She gave me a kiss, and said, “Now you’d better get back to studying for your finals.”

The next week flew by, and then we were on our way to the Yukon. Our plane landed at Whitehorse. Our first step consisted of picking up our rented recreational vehicle. After settling our luggage into the motorhome, Mom dropped me off at a museum while she visited the local RCMP office.

A couple hours later, she picked me up and we started our journey. Painfully slowly, we made our way along the main highway, stopping many times and taking long walks. Somewhat frustrated by our slow pace I, nonetheless, made my peace with our situation. Eventually, we found ourselves at the RCMP constabulary in Dawson.

“Assistant Commissioner Dominion, how nice to meet you,” said Constable Brian Davin. “This must be your daughter.” We shook hands. “Are you here on holiday?”

“For the most part. There’s a site we want to check out, so I was hoping you could point out the best way to get there.”

Constable Davin retrieved a map from under the counter and spread it out. He and my mother conferred for a moment.

“Commissioner, why do you want to go to this area? There’s not much around there.”

“One of our acquaintances suggested it. We want to take a look at the vegetation. I like to think of myself as an amateur botanist.”

Constable Davin hesitated for a moment. He gave the impression he wanted to accompany us, but the look my mother gave him chopped that suggestion down. Instead he said, “Perhaps you would like one of our radios? You could contact us if you have further questions?”

“That’s an excellent suggestion. Who knows where we’ll decide to go.”

“You’re not a very good liar,” I said, after we reached our vehicle. “Constable Davin didn’t believe your tale about looking for greenery.”

“Perhaps not, but he had enough sense not to question me. Now let’s grab an early lunch, and be on our way.”

I had to laugh—I’d been put in my place, and so had the constable.

Perfect Yukon summer weather guided our travels, and the longer days were delightful. The location we aimed for resided approximately two hours away, so we arrived in the early afternoon.

“Where do we start?” I bit down a shout of glee.

Mom smiled and hauled out a container from beneath one of the two beds.

“What’s that? Where did you get it?” It appeared to be a medium-sized metal suitcase.

“I got it from the RCMP lab in Vancouver.”

After she opened the container, she pulled out a piece of equipment. “The lab had been doing testing after getting the first artifact back from SFU. So they created this machine to detect the frequency being emitted. From the satellite search, we have a location for the third artifact—if there is indeed a third. Who knows what we’ll find. Unfortunately, this equipment’s range is low. It’ll indicate when we get close to the signal, but we need to get within about fifty feet of the object.”

I picked up the machine. “This looks like a metal detector.”

“You’re right. I hadn’t noticed that, but it’s probably better to think of it as a frequency detector. Let’s fill up our daypacks and get going.”

Since no roads led to our desired location, we’d be getting in a good hike. It wasn’t long before our invented story about enjoying the interesting vegetation turned out to be true. Northern plants adapted to the extreme weather in un- usual ways. Because of the winds and soil disturbances the plants were short and grouped together to resist the cold temperatures. Since most arctic plants reproduced by budding and division, I knew we wouldn’t be seeing many flowers.

Mom, of course, had worked out a grid to cover the possible area efficiently. “The scientists gave me a circular area to explore, but I designed my search grid based on a square. It’ll be much easier to implement.”

I thought about her comment for a moment, and agreed with her conclusion.

The first day we managed only a small portion of the grid, because of our late start. Our evening ended early; we were both pretty tired.

For some variety, Mom chose the next day’s grid line to be perpendicular to our first search. Although the previous landscape had been flat, today we encountered low rolling hills. I exaggerated with the hill moniker. They looked like big lumps of soil, covered with rocks and gravel.

“I feel like we’re on Mars,” I said, while we climbed one of the hills. “We need one of those rovers, but with two seats.”

Mom gave me an astonished look. “You’re right. We should have brought an ATV. One of us could have driven while the other held the frequency detector.”

Shortly we began to hear a low hum from the equipment. At the crest of the hill, the hum became louder. A steep decline faced us.

“Stay here and keep a lookout. I’m going to take the detector down the slope. If you see any area that looks promising, give me a shout.” Mom slowly and carefully started walking down the decline.

I scoured the vicinity between me and the next hill, searching for a sparkle in the sunlight. Then I heard my mother yell. And then silence enveloped the area around me. I couldn’t see Mom, and I received no answer after I called out to her. Cautiously, I minced my way down the slope in the direction she’d taken. I found her—immobile—hidden by a large rock. I scrambled over the rocky ground, and threw my pack down. I found Mom unconscious, but thankfully, she was breathing.

“What do I do? What do I do?” I babbled over and over in a squeaky voice. Gazing down at my mother, I anxiously went over my options. Mom was too heavy to carry, not to mention she was unconscious. Should I even try to move her? At least she wasn’t bleeding.

I looked around to see if there was anything I could use to make a travois. I had no idea why that popped into my mind. Unfortunately, the visible trees and large bushes were stunted. I rummaged in my backpack and found nothing useful, not even a medical kit. To my delight, though, I found the RCMP radio in the second backpack. It took me a moment to figure out its functions, and then I called the constabulary. “Constable Davin, this is Tari Dominion. My mother has fallen and is unconscious. I need help.”

“Describe your mother’s condition,” said the RCMP officer, trying to calm me.

I told him as much as I could—which must have been adequate as he asked no further questions.

Davin continued, “Now describe your surroundings.” After I did that, he said, “Now, I want you to run back to your motorhome and get blankets and pillows, and water if you don’t have any. Do it as quickly as possible. Make your mother comfortable. There’s a GPS in the radio, so we know where you are. We’ll be on our way in a few moments.” The recent exercise helped my run back to the motorhome. After I returned to the accident site, my mother had woken and sat up.

“Tari, what happened? Where did you go?”

“You fell and bumped your head and were unconscious. I called Constable Davin, and he told me to get some blankets and stuff. The ambulance will be here shortly. I’m supposed to wrap you up and prop you against a boulder. So let’s do that.”

Mom issued no complaints, but she did ask me a couple more times what had happened. Finally, she settled down and drank some water. We sat in silence.

“I should be up and about tomorrow, so we can continue our holiday. We have a lot of ground to cover.”

I nodded, but didn’t agree. She looked pretty frail. However, happily, the concussion appeared to be fading.

We scoured our surroundings while we awaited rescue.

“What’s that?” Mom asked, as she pointed to an area close by. Something sparkled a short distance down the slope.

Since the location was within shouting distance, I said, “I’ll take a look. Yell if you need anything, or start getting sleepy.”

At an angle, I made my way carefully down the steep slope—one of us needed to remain mobile.

I suspected the sparkle would reveal itself as a fleck of mica, or some other shiny rock. However, when I got up close enough to touch the spot, the soil fell away and exposed a large metallic surface. I decided to act like an archaeologist and take pictures of the surroundings before I touched anything.

“Tari!”

“Are you okay?” I asked as I looked up the slope. My heart began to race.

“I’m fine. Tell me what you’re doing.”

I should have known Mom needed to be in the thick of things. “I’ve found a bit of metal, so I’m taking pictures before I disturb the dig.”

“Good thinking. Take a few, and then show them to me before you touch anything.”

In a few moments, we conferred over my photographs. We came up with a plan for digging, so I returned and pulled out my knife. I accomplished little before we heard someone calling. I ran up to the top of the hill and waved to our rescuers.

Mom talked to the Mounties and paramedics and then the two of us had a brief chat. The paramedics strapped her into a stretcher and carried her off. Although, it frightened me to see her on a stretcher, she showed good spirits.

“Ms. Dominion, I’ll be driving your motorhome back to Dawson. We’ll check with the hospital when we arrive, of course. Your mother understands you can drive, but you haven’t had much experience with a motorhome. So she asked me to help out,” said Constable Davin.

“No problem. I’m kind of shaky anyway.”

“So let’s be off.” Constable Davin turned to leave.

“Not yet. I haven’t finished excavating the site.” I refused to leave the object stuck into the hillside.

After I explained the purpose of our trip, Constable Davin followed me down the slope. It didn’t take us long to dig out the area. We retrieved a box similar to the other two.

“So what is this?” asked Constable Davin.

“We have no idea. All we know is that the other two were transmitting something.”

“Should we continue looking for other items?”

“Good question. Um… probably not. So far there’s only been one found in each location, so it’s unlikely there’s anything else to discover. But I’ll check with Mom later to see if she wants to come back.”

* * * *

Upon our arrival in Dawson, we checked in at the hospital with Mom. They wanted to keep her overnight for observation, under protest from my mother, of course. Everyone reassured me the medical staff were just taking normal precautions. So I spent the rest of the day alone in the motorhome after we parked it at the police station. I studied the artifact, but I didn’t know what to look for.

The next morning Constable Davin and I drove over to the hospital. Fully dressed, Mom was ready to make her escape. We checked her out, and she was the first one out the door. Back at our motorhome, she said, “Constable Davin, thanks for all your help. Giving us a radio turned out to be an excellent decision. I’ll be putting you in for a commendation. After talking to people at the hospital, it’s quite clear your priority is the welfare of tourists and residents.”

Davin flushed. “Thank you, Commissioner. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

“No, thank you, Constable. We’ll be on our way. I want to see a bit more of the Yukon before we need to return home.”

Before I started driving, my mother studied the artifact. “Any ideas about the objects? By the way, spotting that glint of light and then asking Constable Davin to help you unearth it was a brilliant piece of work.”

Mom didn’t use the word “brilliant” very often; her British heritage showed. I smiled, and said, “What’s running around my mind right now is why we’ve only found three. What’s magical about a trio of objects?”

Trio, triangle, transmit: the words floated in my mind. We were both silent during the beginning of our drive.

“Triangulation. Can your scientists determine a position from the data they have on these boxes? Where they’re transmitting to? Stuff like that, you know what I mean.”

“I do indeed.” She immediately made a call, and then picked up my phone. Why would she want my phone?

After she hung up, she said, “A very good suggestion, Tari. The scientists won’t need our new artifact to start their analysis as I sent them the coordinates of the find from your phone pictures. They’re excited about the challenge I’ve set. We’re going to have to practice patience for a time, though.”

Our day proceeded in a leisurely manner. My mother had not yet fully recovered from her injuries.

We found a lovely spot beside a river to stop for the night. Mom napped while I prepared dinner. We were both reading when her phone rang and she answered. When the call ended my mother sat without speaking; she had a strange look on her face.

“Mom, what’s wrong? What did you find out?” I finally asked.

“We need to talk.” She sighed. “Please let me believe you will be discreet.”

“Of course.” I knew why she’d said that.

“The scientists did successfully triangulate—for want of a better word.”

She still hesitated, so I said, “Where are the artifacts transmitting to?”

“The location they found is on the Moon.”

“The Moon? Where? Who’s area?” The Moon had been apportioned, after much debate, amongst the countries on Earth.

“Ah, well that’s the interesting part. The site is in no man’s land.”

“So, some corporation or group has set up a secret base?”

“That’s actually a good guess, except for the fact these artifacts do not appear to have been manufactured on Earth.”

“What are you saying? Aliens?”

“Possibly.”

I’d never envisioned my mother believing in aliens. “The boxes were probably manufactured in a secret facility on Earth, by a new method.” I said.

She shook her head. “There are indications otherwise.”

I tried to be funny. “So what are you going to do? Talk to the United Nations?”

“First, we have to contact other jurisdictions and get them to do their own searches, and then I think we need to send an expedition to the Moon.”

What she said stunned me. “You want Mounties to go to the Moon?”

“Yes, mounting an expedition shouldn’t be a problem, but there are other issues.”

“I’m in!” I wanted to jump up and run around the motorhome.

“You’re out.” My mother had no smile on her face, but I suspected she inwardly laughed.

Being teased didn’t concern me; I hadn’t expected to get very far with my statement. “Is it going to be easy to convince your superiors?”

“Not at all. However, I believe this invasion of Canada’s privacy needs to be investigated.”

An issue currently in the forefront—no one wanted to ignore any references to invasion of privacy. The commissioner had a better feel for politics than I gave her credit for.

“Mom, you know I’ve really enjoyed seeing how the RCMP works. I never knew how much in the way of scientists, technicians, electronics, and all sorts of equipment you’re involved with. It’s fascinating.”

“The RCMP has evolved over the years,” she said, with a proud lilt to her voice.

“This trip has let me learn a lot about myself and what I need to work on. I’m thinking of joining the RCMP, you know.”

Being speechless didn’t often happen to my mother, so I had to smile.

“Food for thought: you need to change the name of the RCMP. Mounted doesn’t really fit anymore. How about RCEP? The Royal Canadian Electronic Police.”

* * * *

“Quite the little hell-raiser,” said Jack, after I’d finished.

I scowled at him.

“That was a fascinating story,” said Dino. “But can we try another board game?”

Dino surprised me by not asking further questions. In fact, he seemed to want to change the subject—most unlike the ambassador. So we introduced the aliens to Asylum.

“This Asylum game,” asked Dino. “Is it like real life?”

“I guess so,” I said. “People do claim asylum occasionally.”

“So they want to live in a different country? They cannot do that automatically?”

“No. Countries are very protective. People can visit but not stay for a long time. The usual process is for someone to make an application from their home and hope to be accepted as an immigrant, and then eventually become a citizen. Sometimes, though, they may be in the new country for a reason, like a holiday or competition, and then they ask for asylum.”

“Do they get their wish?” asked Takka.

“I’m not really familiar with asylum seekers. Some are allowed, I believe.”

“Would someone from another world be able to ask for asylum” asked Dino.

“I imagine that would be up to the diplomats to figure out.” I wondered why Dino and Takka were asking these kinds of questions.

The games continued for a couple of hours but since the day had been long—and I had a lot to think about—we made a fairly early night of it. After all, Round Two started tomorrow