Point of Origin, Chapter Six, Fortunate Coincidences

“Why are Covienians so salty?”

“Because that’s all the Scelirians left them... salt!”

-A very unpopular Covienian joke, featured in the notorious Entrillian show, Blue Fringe Rangers. [Episode 42, Season 28]

I had been down to Local Registry before, and believe it or not, it was just as shabby and cluttered as its international counterpart, Tri-dock 61.

The Registry opened up out of the wall, where, maybe a few hundred years previously, the edge of the cavern had been hollowed out for a storehouse or crew room.

But today, in my little point of history, it housed possibly the busiest part of Lower Lisk, holding reams of information in the forms of actual, physical books and dusty, precariously stacked thick Data Tabs that lined the over-crammed shelves like someone had put them there a few years ago, and had since forgotten about them completely. It resembled the Port much in this way, even down to the stacks of parcels and local mail that were piled on shelves and benches behind the counter.

But I had to mentally remark that Tri-Dock 61 was a hell of a whole lot cleaner– probably due to the agonised actions of its equally agonsing Port Bot.

A long and tedious line of people stood patiently behind me, waiting to either pay the daily Hangar tax, or pick up some local mail. Thankfully, none of them seemed to mind the street urchin arguing with the Registry attendant.

Frowning from within my hood up at the Flirin across the bench, I continued my argument unsuccessfully.

“But the cost has already been covered by the token,” I continued. “Why do I need to pay more?”

The female Flirin looked down at me with a dull, non-existent intensity. “New Covienian Policy. The Vien Laneway Toll no longer operates by ship, but by passenger,” she explained unhappily, spreading her hands. “The fee must be paid by each passenger, upfront to the Tri-Dock–before take off.”

With the Token clenched in my fist, I put both of my hands on the counter. “But that's just tax–I’ve already paid the travelling tax with the Token.”

"This isn't another tax. This is the Laneway Toll."

My voice was a little more shrill than I thought it would sound. I guess I was tired of arguing with this lady. I tried to glare at her, folding my arms. “Yes it is! That's just a fancy way of saying tax.”

Had Web known that there was a new tax? Or did she think the Token would be enough to cover every fee?

Damn this infernal planet–couldn’t it give me a break?

The Flirin shrugged. “The Token can cover the cost of the ticket and the travelling tax, but not the Laneway Toll.” She gestured through the air, waving to the roof. “Do you want to be on the Leokesh freighter or not?”

Drumming my fingers on the wooden counter rapidly, I mulled over my option unhappily.

I would say options, but that would imply more than one. A bitter part of me realised that that wasn’t a luxury I had right now.

I looked up at her through a squint. “Is this really the only transport in the next interphase?”

“The only one with available space for a passenger,” she intoned.

I sighed, looking down for a moment as my bandaged hand clenched around the Token.

It was interesting. My mind had a bit of a habit of telling me I could do better when I damn well knew I couldn’t have.

In reality, Laneway Toll or not, this was the closest I had even gotten to getting off this planet.

I told myself this as I slid the Token over the counter begrudgingly. Promptly, the Flirin took it and put in some kind of register behind the counter. I watched it disappear as she turned to an ugly, square looking machine to the left, pushing a small Tab of some kind into its side. A Lightstamp was activated on the Tab’s screen, and she pulled it out of the machine, blowing on it like it was hot.

She slid it over the bench to me.

I blinked at it.

“Eighthday, 05 before dawn,” the Flirin said. “The Vien Laneway Toll is required at takeoff at the Tri-Dock. It has all the details on there.”

I looked up at her. “That's it?”

The Flirin nodded, bored. “Happy travelling, Offworlder.”

My hand reached out to take the small Tab off the bench, shaky fingers picking it up like it was one of the twelve wonders of the Kosmoverse.

It was smaller than my other Tab, by a few good inches. But it was slender and more elegant. I guess the inside components were simpler than a Data Tab. All this little thing had to do was display when someone’s ship left and how much money they were being cheated out of in the form of tax.

In my hand, in my small, insignificant hands, lay my most valuable asset ever–

“Next!” the Flirin called loudly.

I took that as my cue to get lost. I left the counter as a few offworlders moved in place after me.

My eyes couldn't leave the glowing Tab as I shuffled out of the line and stopped next to a shelf filled with annals and transport fare logs, and whatever else people needed to read to be able to travel ‘legally'.

I stared down at the ticket.

This was it.

This was the thing that had my fate written all over it. I couldn’t read it very well, but I knew it said Leokesh Cargo transport, bound for Eve–Tiron's biggest moon–and I knew that that meant freedom.

That's where I was headed.

It was lightyears away, and yet with this little Tab in my hand, it was finally in reach.

I was finally going to leave.

Now, numerals were easy to understand–it was letters that I struggled with. So there was no good reason why I had such a hard time comprehending the numbers on top of the ticket.

One for a seventy, and one for a five.

That couldn’t be the Vien Laneway Tax, could it?

If it was, I was screwed.

And not in a way that I could run, lie, or cheat my way out of. I needed seventy five Disks to get offworld, and I needed it in five days.

I stared up at the books I couldn't read, craning my neck up as I studied the shelf.

There was no way on heaven or earth that I could work at a Mech repair shop again. Kovals’ would find me and probably kill me.

I dragged my hand over my face, pulling my eyelids down in acute emotional agitation.

Even if I begged Ris to wash her floors, that would only get me about three Pieces, which is very much less than seventy five Disks. And after how people reacted to my scars, I don’t think I could ever show my face there again. That's right, what did Web say? Upper Lisk was off limits.

My palm found my forehead in a frustrated smack. “How come it always feels like I’m never fixing my problems–” I muttered into my hand, "I’m just booting them out for new ones?”

I stopped, dropping my hands in realisation as I looked down at my boots.

My boots!

I didn’t actually know how much they could go for, but it would certainly be something. They didn’t quite match, and whether that was because one was slightly disfigured beyond recognition, or because they were actually from two different sets, I didn’t know, so hopefully no one else would, either.

They still had good soles–maybe–and I had no idea if they were made out of real or fake leather, but it looked okay enough.

“I can sell my boots at Gray market…” I whispered to myself. “That’s got to be more than half of what I need.”

Okay, it wasn’t perfect, but it was a damn better start than doing nothing. And if it meant that I was still in one piece, then I would just have to leave Covien shoeless.

Rather fitting, as I also arrived here shoeless.

I think.

It’s all kinda foggy.

Full of purpose, I turned back to the bench. I needed to ask what time it was. Tiln wouldn’t be for another how many hours, but I wanted to make sure.

As I turned around, I found that the same offworlders that were previously behind me were still standing at the bench, where the Flirin was pointing at the door. Her many glass Flirin bracelets and earrings swung as she demanded that the offworlders leave.

There were two of them, and they made quite a hilarious pair. The taller of the two was a Geodian, or a Geo, like me.

He had bold geometric markings on his face and exposed arms, but the similarities ended there. His skin was dark, and like his marks, his hair was an almost pure white, tied into thick long braids that coiled down his back–some adorned with Geodian beads that clinked together as he argued exuberantly.

He seemed taller than I would imagine a Light Geo to be, but maybe that was just because his companion was so comically short in comparison: a Secodack, the colour of a dusty and tired sunset-purple, and he barely came up to the Geodian’s hips.

He stood next to the Geo, wearing a fowl expression on his face and a bright orange cloak around his shoulders. I thought I had a problem with the Covienian counters around Lisk, but this little guy couldn’t even see past them. To remedy his problem, the Secodack had found a small crate and was standing on it so his nose cleared the counter as he talked.

I wondered vaguely if he carried it with him.

“I don’t know how many times you want me to say this,” the Flirin was repeating, “it isn’t here.”

The Geo gestured through the air with his arms empathically. “But it cannot be anywhere else,” he insisted in a thick accent, “we have checked everywhere else.”

The Flirin sighed, leaning her elbows on the bench.

“You’re on Covien, Geo.” She looked around the room briefly. “There's plenty of places I could imagine it being right now.” She tilted her head as she explained, “Here, is not one of them. You may have to prepare yourself for the fact that it has been… stolen.”

Neither of the offworlders looked happy to hear that, and that was hilarious for so many different reasons. If they had sent something valuable to Covien, why even bother expecting it to be here?

The Flirin stared at them, waiting for them to leave. After a moment, she gave up.

“Fine!” she exclaimed, turning around. “I will check one last time. If it’s not here, then you two get lost.”

The Geo nodded. “That is fair, Heri.”

The Secodack put both his hands on the corner of the bench as the Flirin turned away, almost willing himself to see over it.

“It’s unmistakable–” he announced, his voice shrill but not piercingly high. “It’s a medium sized box, with the Freelance Merchant insignia on it.”

The Flirin gave him a dark look from where she ruffled through the shelves again, her teal eyes burning with something like contempt. How many times had these people been down here? And what was so important that they came down to the Local Registry to find it?

The large Geo hurried to describe the box. “Yes, the insignia, it is like a…” he paused, looking down at his companion. “A-a confused constellation?”

“Yeah,” the Secodack agreed, “with a lot of lines on it. They criss-cross? And there'll be a thousand purple warning labels with it.”

As the offworlders talked, their words sparked something in my brain.

A memory.

I watched the Flirin dutifully check over about a dozen boxes, but something inside of me knew they were all the wrong ones.

The memory that had been sparked was not one pulled out my dark and mysteriously ambiguous past, but yesterday.

Slowly, a foggy image filtered into my brain as I squinted over at the offworlders.

A box, with a confused kind of constellation on it, they had said. There was only one box I had seen in Lisk that fit that description. And it was in the last place on this planet that I wanted to go.

Kovals'.

The small crate behind Kan’s workshop… The one next to the taped box… the one I had been looking at for the last four interphases…

… It belonged to these offworlders?

Finally, the Flirin came back to the bench and leant her elbows on it. “It's not here,” she announced, and nodded to the door curtly.

“Sorry, I can’t help you.” She said the words in a way that implied that she really meant the opposite of their original meaning, but the offworlders were too busy to notice.

They turned away, and the Geo bowed slightly in a universal sign of thanks.

Hm.

I rocked back and forth on my feet.

Thinking.

I knew where this parcel was… This thing that they had lost. The offworlders were now leaving. What should I do? Leave, and pretend I didn’t hear anything?

Or go chase down two merchants to tell them I think I might know where their box could be.

I shook myself.

What the hell was I doing? I couldn’t go and tell these people about Kovals'. Forget an intergalactic guild of scientists–Kovals' was going to be the first to kill me if they found out I was still causing them trouble.

I stalked towards the door stealthily as to not be seen by the two offworlders, who were huddled in the corner of the Registry, leaning over a digital communication cuff attached to the Secodack's forearm.

They appeared to be arguing inaudibly with someone on the other end.

I slipped out, looking back at them once before stomping down the Registry’s wooden steps. “Sorry, fate. I have things to do.”

I had to get down to Gray market.

What was I doing wasting time eavesdropping on some offworders? Why did I care so much? A guild of scientists was literally breathing down my neck, and all I could think about was if these people got their stuff? I don’t think so.

On the sidewalk, I knelt down beside the Registry wall, out of the way of anyone. I took my grey bag off from under my poncho, and rifled through its contents. I was going to need to sell more than just my boots if I wanted to get offworld.

In my bag I had my Data Tab, and a few Crisp’a’snacs. The string was gone–that was still on Lewis's arm–but I had a rock I found on Surface Side, a fork that had a tine missing, and some wire.

I sighed. It wasn’t exactly a goldmine of resources, but neither was Lisk.

I dug around in my bag, finding the necklace Web had given back to me. A part of me recoiled when I saw it–like my hands didn’t want to grasp it–but I forced them to pick it out of the bag and hold it up to the light.

“So… you and me, huh?” I asked the grey stone. “We’re Astrogate survivors… I guess?” I felt the cool stone, shutting my eyes.

I tried to tell Lewis about this yesterday. The voices I hear sometimes. They sounded like memories, but only… not my own. Curiously, I tried to listen to the rock. After a moment of silence, I opened one eye to squint at the star.

My mind was quiet.

I shook it, frowning. “Come on, are you empty or something?”

It didn’t respond in any way I thought it should have–it was just a rock on some string.

I nodded, taking a deep breath as I slid the necklace over my head and pretended to not be relieved. “Well, you and I have to stick together, then.” I looked at it for a moment, cradling the star in my palm.

“If you came from a Craft Guild, then I guess that's where we start.” I tucked it into my shirt and patted it through the fabric of my poncho, surprised to find that the weight around my neck felt comforting.

A small moth landed next to me, and looked like it was trying to steal a Crisp’a’snac wrapper from my pile. I shooed it away.

“Hey now, that's mine. Go find your own trash to play with.”

As I started putting things back in my bag, and the moth sadly fluttered away, I became aware of people talking behind me on the steps of the Local Registry.

“That Lightcore was worth more than both you and me,” I heard someone whisper. “What are we gonna tell the captain?”

I glanced over my shoulder subtly, catching sight of the same Geo who was asking about the box. He was shaking his head as he spoke.

“I do not know. We landed here with half an engine, but I am not sure if we can take off again without the engine counterpart.”

Those words seemed to annoy the Secodack who had to crane his neck to look up at him.

“I know–” he hissed up at the Geo, taking his own cloak and shaking it up and down dramatically. “Engineer, remember?” The Secodack looked out to the street, shaking his head. “I haven’t the slightest idea what the scriking Eth we’re gonna do if it actually has been stolen.”

I turned back around, pretending to look at the crowd on the street as I listened to their whisperings.

The Geo clicked his fingers. “What about the Freelance Post?”

I saw the Secodack wave him away at the corner of my eye. “Don’t be an idiot, Xander. Do you think this crappy planet has a Freelance Post? I’d be surprised if they had public toilets here.”

The Secodack looked thoughtful for a moment. He inclined his head. “No… if the Lightcore has been stolen, the first place we should check is a Black market, or an illegal saleyard.”

I raised my eyebrows. That was surprisingly intelligent. Wrong, but still intelligent.

“How are we going to find something like that?” the Geo’s voice was almost pleading. “We have already gotten lost in this settlement five times today.” He put one hand on his hip while the other absently counted down their troubles. “First, we were sent to a grease seller, then to the surface again in that creaky lift, and then that old, toothless stall owner started hitting us with a broom because ‘we were in the wrong place-’”

“I don’t need a recap, Xander,” interrupted the Secodack angrily.

The Geodian spread his hands helplessly. “Then what do we do?”

“Well, we’ll take the easiest path of action.” The Secodacks' voice seemed unbothered. “We’ll ask for help.”

I put the last things back into my bag with small movements, trying not to draw attention to myself.

“From who?” asked the Geodian, who was annoyed now.

The Secodack didn’t respond for a moment.

“From her,” he replied. “She looks like she could know where the Black market is.”

There was the sound of shuffling feet behind me.

I stood, looking down at my bag and pretending to examine my Data Tab carefully. Hopefully they would just pass me in pursuit of help.

“Hey! You there!” the Secodack shouted behind me. “Hey!”

I froze, still not turning around. They couldn’t mean me. There were so many people on this street.

“Charge, do not be so rude,” said the Geo, his voice coming closer. “And do not make a scene–you always make a scene.”

“What?” came the shrill reply. “She looks like she can help us.”

As the voices came closer, I turned my Data Tab on, realising how dusty it was as the loading screen glowed a pale and sickly green. I really needed to clean this.

“Because she’s standing on the street?” asked the Geo, unimpressed.

“No,” said the Secodack like the Geodian was being silly. “Look at her, she’s filthy. She looks like she’ll know where the Black market is.”

I couldn’t take it anymore.

“Are you–" I asked, turning around and frowning at the Secodack who was now only a metre away from me, “talking to me?”

The Secodack looked exactly like all the other Secodacks I had seen, although somewhat shorter. Orange irises and purple skin marked him as hailing from a specific planet in the Seco system, but I couldn't remember which one. He wore the orange cloak I had noticed before, and a dark shirt that matched his pants. If I had to guess, there were about half a dozen pockets attached to his belt, along with a short tribal looking knife at his waist.

“Yes, we’re talking to you, Covienian,” he said, directing the words up at me as his long, slender ears twitched.

I noticed his canines were pointed into fangs. Man, that was disconcerting.

“We’re looking for the nearest market. Of the illegal nature.” He crossed his arms. “Would someone like you know where something like that is?”

I squinted at him as the Geo hung his head a few metres away.

What exactly about my appearance said I knew where a Black market would be?

I mean, I did. But that was beside the point.

I cleared my throat uncomfortably. “You mean the Grey market?”

The Secodack folded his arms and shook the cuff on his wrist, activating the curved panel. “Sure. Whatever. How do we get down there?” He looked up at me expectantly, a four fingered hand poised above the screen, waiting for my directions.

“Um.” I slid my hands into my pockets, rocking back and forth on my feet. “What was it that you were hoping to find there?”

The Secodack unfolded his arms, looking at me suspiciously. “Nothing you can help us with. It doesn’t matter what we’re looking for,” he said sharply. “We just need to find the Black market.”

The sigh from the Geodian behind the Secodack was loud enough to be heard even above the bustle of the street. He took a few steps and pushed the Secodack out of the way with very little effort.

He towered over me, and I realised how tall he really was up close. This was… a real, pureblooded Geodian. Not whatever I was.

Pale, aged scars marked his hands and arms, and a few silver lines marred his face. Whatever this Geodian did for a living, it didn’t look very friendly.

“A Lightcore, friend,” the Geo said with a smile, shifting the strap to a large brown sack on his shoulder. “It’s a medium sized box, and it was misplaced by the Local Registry before we could collect it.” He looked across the busy street before looking back at me. “We have gotten lost many times trying to locate it.”

It was a Lightcore? That box was a freaking engine heart?

I nodded, blinking. “Oh, well... it’s probably been stolen.”

The Secodack had recovered physically from being pushed aside, but he still seemed upset. He gave me a look.

“Well thank you, Corporal Obvious.” The Secodack gestured down the street. “We’re trying to get to a place where something like that might be sold after it was stolen.”

The Geodian interrupted his companion, “No–we were looking for a…” He gave the Secodack a sharp look before looking back at me. “... an expert, in Liskian geography, and if maybe said expert could direct us to a place where a stolen Lightcore would be sold?”

He smiled, his teeth as white as his markings. Considering how dark his skin was, it was a little freaky. “As I said, we have gotten lost, many”–he closed his eyes briefly and drew a shallow breath in–“many times.”

In a moment, quite a few thoughts rushed through my head. Of course I knew where the Grey market was.

Hell, I was going there right now.

But I knew it would be a wild whisp chase for these offworlders, because I knew what they were looking for, and it simply wasn’t there.

But if I told them where it really was then they would question how I knew. And then I would have to explain that I worked there, at Kovals’ and then I would have to face their scrutiny as the former employee of someone who stole some of their very expensive equipment.

So how was I to tell them where their Lightcore was, without letting them know that I know that I'm sending them to the one place where it was impossible to not know that it had been stolen???

With all these thoughts in my head, I looked up blankly at the Geo.

“I could… tell you where you could… find what you’re looking for.”

The Secodack shifted. “So you know where we could find our Lightcore?”

I made a face. It was a mix between a grimace and a smile as I tried to hide my uncomfortableness.

“Errrr–Yes.” I pointed down the bustling street. “Go down this street–”

“Registry street?” asked the Secodack.

I didn’t know what the street was called. Of course it was written on the street signs, but I couldn’t read them.

“Um, yeah, this street,” I continued, “and take the hanger lift down to Level 28, on the second street to the left there's a huge… modified warehouse… workshop. You can’t miss it. I think you’ll find what you want there.”

The Secodack quickly inputted the instructions on his cuff. “Second street…” he repeated. He looked back up. “What’s that street called?”

I ground my teeth. Oh great. I didn’t actually know.

In my hesitation, the Secodack frowned up at me.

“You don’t know what the street’s called, Covienian?” he asked.

I rubbed my arm, shrugging. “You know, the street name isn’t important, but what you’re looking for is definitely on Level 28.”

After giving me a suspicious glare, the Secodack turned away abruptly, striding down the street. As he left, I noticed he had one golden earring in his left ear.

Hmph. Hope he doesn’t get mugged for it.

The Geodian sighed, giving me an apologetic shrug as he shifted the bag that looked quite heavy on his shoulder. “Thank you–your help is appreciated.”

I beg to differ.

I watched as the Secodack strode down the street, his bright orange cloak doing well to make his tiny presence stand out much more than it should.

The Geodian turned away, calling over his shoulder as he rushed to keep up with his friend, “Light be with you, little Geo.”

I blew out a breath forcefully, puffing out my cheeks in thought.

Once they got down there, they’d figure out that it’s not a Black market–it’s just a sketchy Mech shop–but if they were sharp, they’d find their part, and I’m sure they’d find a way to acquire it, too. And they wouldn't be seeing me again, so they wouldn’t ask how I knew it was there in the first place.

Everybody wins!

Well, it was a good way to solve a bad problem. I didn't get into more trouble with Kovals'–or offworlders–and they'd find their part and wouldn't be stranded.

After literally patting myself on the back, I continued on through the street, passing the crowded lifts. I was more than happy to have let that problem slip past me.

I looked across the street, seeing Loose and her Fry-cake stall. Hadn’t she just been up on the Market streets?

Seeing me, the old woman waved covertly.

I waved back hesitantly.

I had no idea if the Scavengers were looking for me on this level, but I didn’t want to alert them to my presence, or catch the attention of those offworlders again.

I turned and directed myself towards the service stairs, trying to shake off the oddly guilty feeling I had. I tried to get the offworlders out of my mind.

At least, now that I'd told them, even if they couldn’t get their Lightcore, they’d know where it was.

And that was better than doing nothing, right?

The Warehouse District levels.

What a dump.

What a waste.

What a shame.

It was the last swan song to Covien's usefulness, and it was my home.

Yes, the rows and rows of near-abandoned warehouses and storerooms, the mazes of little alleys and streets, and the perpetual humming of the Lower Lisk generators, made up the fabric of my little hideaway.

And I always thought it was fitting. Most things in the Warehouse District were stored under the pretence of being used and then were swiftly forgotten about.

Practically, the alley between the two abandoned warehouses was the best place for me to sleep at night and store my treasures and trinkets; but poetically, I always thought it was funny that I–Evren, the girl from the Astrostorm–made her home down in the levels where ships, crates and machinery waited patiently to be of use again.

I guess we were all waiting for something down here.

Of course, some warehouses were still used regularly by the Port, or other more wealthy groups that needed things stored, but I made sure to stay away from those ones.

And besides, I’m pretty sure that the warehouse to my left was decommissioned because it was kinda falling out of the mountainside.

In typical Covienian fashion, a few huge metal brackets had been slapped onto the side of the mountain to keep the warehouse in place, and then it had been forgotten about. If it wasn’t going to kill anyone, then why spend money to fix it?

Gazing up from the service stairs, I looked fondly at the sinking warehouse. It reminded me of some kind of caged creature that was trying desperately to bulge out of its prison and leap for freedom.

It was slightly more picturesque than other warehouses, as wildflower seeds had blown up here in the ever present wind, and they had taken root up in cracks and walls, even though they were miles away from the ground below.

I jumped down heavily onto a rusty stair landing that was connected to the warehouse, giving one of the brackets a pat. It had a crude smiley face engraved onto its metallic surface. “Good job.”

Thankfully, at one point in time, the stairway had broken, and whoever was in charge of fixing it decided that bolting the stairway onto the unstable warehouse was a good idea.

Probably not the best idea at the time, but it certainly made getting into the warehouse easier.

I tumbled over the railing and into the sinking warehouse, sending echoes through the large building.

I had been told by the old, drunk Covienians in Ris's tavern that these warehouses had been used to refine and store the precious things mined from Covien's underearth.

I tried to imagine away the cracks in the warehouse, and the wildflowers that sprang up in chaotic patches inside them. I tried to picture away the creaking rafter beams that had cracked and splintered, and the old tarps and building materials that had been dumped here long ago; in their place I imagined glowing vats of Kataton 5, the lifeblood of Deep Space travel. I tried to imagine beautiful Scelirians, dressed in fine silks and fabrics, overlooking the workers from the balcony high above.

Curiously, I put my hand down on the ground, and closed my eyes.

I could almost feel it.

The rush of the internal pumps as they cooled the fuel, the anxiety of the workers as they completed safety check after safety check.

The cold gaze of the stars as they peered in through the warehouse opening. The hum of the ship that was waiting to take the Kataton 5 far across the universe, far into the Void, and out into the world.

I could almost feel the awe of the warehouse occupants as they stood back and were mesmerised by the blue, glowing liquid. The blood of the planet, the soul of the earth, sacrificed to the cold and lifeless machine of the Scelirian Empire–

A bird took flight above, startling me out of my daze. I blinked up at it as it flew out of the warehouse and across the Hollow Wastes.

I shook myself, unaware I had zoned out.

I grabbed the strap of my bag decidedly, muttering to myself as I picked my way through the hangar. “I have to stop doing that.”

The broken warehouse had a huge crack in its wall, held up with more, smaller brackets in another attempt to suspend the building's decay.

I slid under one into an alley, the natural space between two large buildings. At first, I didn't know why there was space in between the warehouses at all, but then I realised that the thick tubes and pipes that usually inhabited these alleys carried water, electricity, and air further back into the mountain.

That was kinda essential, I guess.

The alley was a little darker, and I walked to the opposite warehouse wall to a ladder as my eyes adjusted. It wasn’t tall, only a few odd metres to what was commonly known in Lisk as a Power Relay. It was a large box that was just as wide as the alley itself, and was held off the ground by thick, long metal legs to avoid things like water damage when these levels flooded, and to keep it out of the way of pests.

Inside the box coursed the power for this level and the ones above, but on top of the box was a place very close to my heart.

Only a few metres long and even less wide, that cluttered and rusty surface was the closest thing I had to a home.

I hoisted myself onto the Power Relay from the rusty ladder, my belongings greeting me with a warm kind of familiarity.

A small, half broken crate filled with trinkets I had collected over the months; piles of papers and pamphlets about systems; a few books; rocks; posters I had stolen from surface side; pieces of equipment I didn't understand, but wanted to, and a smiley face that I had painted onto the warehouse wall with thick, yellow paint.

“Hey, Mr. Smiley,” I said as I pulled off my poncho and gave a breath of relief. I threw it, and my hat, into the crate and walked a few feet to the wall, where a hole had been cut to allow access to the Relay from the outside. “How was your day today?” I straightened a few rocks, and some little figures that lined the window sill absently. A bird had probably disturbed them again.

“You never came home last night,” I could almost hear the smiley say. “What happened?”

Careful not to disturb my trinkets, I leaned up against the manhole, looking out across the Hollow Wastes. About two metres below the manhole, I could see the service ramps I had just walked across.

If I was taller, maybe I could jump into my hidey-hole from the rusty escape stairs below, but alas, this world was not made for people my height.

I breathed in the air, the midday sun hidden in an overcast sky with depressed white clouds, all filled with the promises of even more rain. I leaned my arms on the manhole frame.

“Well, Smiley,” I said. “Lots… happened.” I closed my eyes, burying my face in my arms. “I stole Lewis’s arm back, and then while we were trying to find someone to put it back on, some people found me…”

“That’s not so good…” Smiley said, trailing off. “Who found you? What kind of people? Did they hurt you? ”

I looked back up to the Hollow Wastes, the world just a little too bright. “Bad people, Smiley. They want to take me away because I survived the Astrostorm.”

Smiley seemed amused. “That's just silly! What's so great about surviving an Astrostorm?”

I turned around, sinking down onto the Relay box, my back pressed against the wall. “I don’t know. But they sure think it’s important, and they’re willing to kill me to find out… I think.”

Next to me, on the wall, Smiley made a face. “Oh, that’s not so good,” it repeated. “What are you going to do now?”

Rubbing my face, I screwed my eyes shut. “I don’t know. I’m so worried about Lewis. What if Web was lying? What if he’s still up on that level? Alone? What if she’s not going to help him at all?”

I clenched my jaw, thinking about the ticket in my pocket. I pulled it out awkwardly. Its blue glow cast shadows on the alley wall around me.

I remembered the Token. I remembered her words.

Web wasn’t a liar.

I had met my fair share of liars around Lisk, and they had a certain feel to them.

Web didn’t have that. I knew she was a good person.

Even if she didn’t.

“I’m gonna leave, Covien, Smiley. I'm gonna go find somewhere to be.” I got to my knees and stuffed the ticket back into my pocket on my leg.

“I got a ticket, but I’m seventy five Disks short… so I’m gonna sell my boots, and a few things in my bag.”

“That won’t be enough.” Smiley answered instantly.

I rolled my eyes. “I know. But I don’t know what else I can do, Smiley.”

“What about selling some of the other things you have around here, Evren?” It suggested happily.

I looked up, embarrassed I hadn’t thought of it earlier. “Right,” I said, looking at the wall. “Good idea, Smiley!”

“All my ideas are good ideas, silly.”

Shuffling closer to my crate, I frowned, “Not all of them,” I muttered.

Rifling through the crate, I started pulling things out. “But maybe there’s something in here worth something to someone on the Grey market.”

I pulled out a dark blue book that I had found in a rainy shuttle waiting area. It was labelled in some kind of fake gold, but it looked beautiful. There was an embellishment of a bird-like creature on it, set among a tapestry of stars on it’s velvety cover.

I promised myself that I would learn to read it–I had even started to piece together a few sounds. But I guess my attempts at learning to read would have to wait. After my fingers traced the bird fondly, I made a noise of resignation and put it in my grey bag.

I rifled around the box some more. There were tons of parts to machinery I didn’t understand. What made them valuable to me was that though I didn’t understand them, I wanted to, and I had kept them to study. Not exactly a sellable trait.

I carried on, pulling out a blackened spoon that looked like it had been through a fire. I put that in my bag too. Who knew, maybe someone was hungry?

I looked into the bottom of the crate, wincing at the absence of anything good.

There were rocks, seeds, dried plants, wires, a ruler, a broken light bulb, exhausted batteries, and other things of unimportance.

I pulled my bag in front of me, rifling through it again and pulling out my Data Tab. The one that the Scavenger had given me, nearly six months ago.

The one that Lewis had loaded numerous books on about learning how to read, and information files about planets and people that I had pored over. I shook my head, putting the Data Tab into the crate.

“No, that's too valuable.”

I stood up, clearing my throat. “Well, the Grey market starts an hour before Tiln, at evening bell. So if I start walking now, I can be on the ground level by nightfall.”

I breathed out, hesitating.

“There's... no use in pretending like it’s not gonna happen,” I eventually said aloud, clutching the strap to my bag. “It's just… gotta happen, Evren. Just bite the barrel and get over with it.”

I frowned, squeezing my eyes shut.

“You can do it.”

Without further ado, I leant down and slid my boots off.

One after the other, I stuffed them into my poor grey bag, making the thing bulge with extra weight. The sole of the shoes stuck up, and the strap flap wouldn’t cover them.

“Maybe you could be… worth something.”

They were certainly worth something to me, but oh well–it didn’t matter. Soon they would be someone else's.

Grabbing my poncho and hat again, I jumped onto my ladder, the cold metal biting my feet as I climbed down. “See you tonight, Smiley.”

I looked at it, pausing for a moment.

The Smiley didn’t reply.

Sometimes, I wondered if it actually spoke or not. It was ridiculous to think that it did, but there was always a little bit of doubt in the back of my mind.

I shook the thought away, continuing down the ladder.

“See you tonight, Evren, and good luck!” Smiley called sweetly from above. “Remember–if anyone tries to hurt you, throw them from the cliff docks like we talked about.”

Smiley’s words were always vague and ominous. Was that because maybe I was vague and ominous, or because the alley wall was possessed with a talking smiley face that was just a little too okay with violence?

A part of me knew I would never know, so I continued downwards.

When I got to the ground, I took my poncho out from under my arm, and threw it over my head heavily, readjusting my hat so it hung down from the draw cord.

There were two ways that I could leave my home: through the broken warehouse hangar and onto the service ramps like I had come in; or through the alley, where it would take me to a maze of empty streets and warehouses further into the mountain.

I took off up the alley, the slap-slap of my bare feet echoing through the empty, lonely space. Plants grew in cracks and crevices, and metal creaked and groaned, making this level seem sad, or lonely. Like the industrious spirit of Lisk was dying quietly down here, and no one knew except itself.

As I walked through the maze of decay, I checked my bag, muttering.

“Where is that Crisp’a’snac–I thought I had one more…?”

Four Crisp’a’snacs, two blisters, and one made up story about beetle espionage later…

I was so tired of walking.

I wasn’t even there yet, and I had already eaten all of my crackers. I never seemed to be able to keep some food for the return trip. It was just another one of my bad habits I couldn’t break.

Walking with my hood up, and lamenting about things in life I couldn't change, I fit in well in the darkly lit, crummy street. Windows high above showed lights that flickered unpredictably through the glass and threadbare curtains, and the darkness of the deep mountain street was partially chased away with the neon signs and lamp posts that cluttered the pavement and walls.

The Shaft, they called it. It started fifteen levels from the ground and went down for about thirty more.

Lewis had explained it like this–back when Covien was a mining planet, everyone had to partake in working in the mining process. Those closer to the ground toiled beneath the earth in heavy machines and lines, and those above–who were closer to the surface–were enlisted to work in factories and refineries.

Even though everyone was now free to move and mingle, most people stayed in their respective places. I can’t really recall the words he used, but he said something about pride, and differences or something.

Though, I couldn’t see anything to be proud of down in these levels, and the only difference I could see was that it was a good deal dirtier.

The Shaft was like a little space of its own. It had general stores, workshops, and even taverns and diners. And I happened to know for a fact that local Covienian travellers would buy their supplies down here because it wasn’t as overpriced as the higher levels.

Taking my eyes off my bare feet, I forced myself to squint ahead. I saw that I was approaching an intersection. I sighed heavily, looking up at the roof in agony.

Intersections meant signs.

Signs meant reading.

Reading meant… well, nothing, really.

But I had to admit to myself down in that dark street, that I didn’t know The Shaft as well as I knew the Upper Levels, and I needed to consult some form of direction before I got too lost.

So I came to stand in front of a tree of signs and letters, trying to block out the throb of both music and Haulers, and the chatter from two Covienians close by that shared a cup of something outside a diner.

I noticed that the beetles were more numerous down in these levels, and I assumed it was because they were closer to the ground. I watched as a family of the insect in question scampered up the side of a blue sign, all in single order, their pincers going in and out curiously.

I stepped closer, looking up. “Why, hello there,” I said as they chittered past. “Nice to see some friendly faces for a change.”

As the beetles passed me and trotted farther up onto a sign of a peculiar yellow, I heard someone across the narrow street behind the signs, their agitated tone projecting their words farther than they would’ve travelled normally.

“I can’t believe they ran all the way down here, of all places!” The voice made a noise of bitter frustration. “Gods in Eth, those Geo’s are fast!”

I paused thoughtfully. The voice sounded… familiar.

Peering between a small gap in the signs, I caught a glimpse of the speaker as a Pacer shot past.

He was tall. And blond.

Well, great! That narrowed it down to about nine hundred other people who lived in this settlement.

My idle confusion was swiftly swept away as his face turned towards the signs, and I ducked behind them, praying that they would hide me.

It was Lev, and he had another Mechanic with him.

How had they found me? What had I done? I took all the back ways I knew of–I had even climbed down an old elevator shaft, for Eth's sake!

As I shuddered behind my ridiculously inadequate hiding place, I peeked out warily, seeing that the Mechanics were in the process of trying to cross the busy street opposite the sign post.

NOT GOOD.

Urgently, I searched around for an escape, catching sight of a narrow alley next to the diner on my right. I looked back at the Mechanics, who had stopped to let a smoking, coughing Hauler pass. I took my chance and dove for the alleyway, scrambling behind a few crates of rubbish and a random trash can.

With my back pressed against the metal can, and my heartbeat throbbing in my ears, I heard their footsteps and their conversation draw closer.

“I’m so tired of chasing this guy…” came the all too familiar whine of Lev. “Why can’t we just go back up to the Upper Levels?”

As I heard the second voice, my heartbeat quickened. I tried to sink further into the wall of the alley.

“Suck it up, Lev,” snapped Kan. “We have to get that Lightcore back or Lou is going to be furious.”

They passed the alleyway, walking briskly past the diner.

Lev scoffed. “What do you mean, ‘going to be'?”

“That’s enough out of you,” Kan retorted testily. “The Geo said some girl on the street had told him that the Lightcore was in the workshop.”

“Who would be stupid enough to tell?” demanded Lev incredulously.

Kan was quick to answer. “Who do you think?”

Their voices faded away.

“Who else could it be except Evren?”

I stared at the alley wall–frozen.

So they weren’t down here because of me. They were down here because of those offworlders.

But they knew I had helped them? Had the offworlders gotten hurt? Why had Kovals' pursued them–the Lightcore wasn't theirs anyway!

I rubbed my eyes, looking up and staring at a few peeling posters on the alley wall opposite me.

I shook myself. “I don’t have time for this. I need to get to Grey market, to the East Scavengers.” I rose shakily from my place. “Or I’m never going to get offworld before…” I trailed off.

I shoved the thought angrily out of my mind. I wouldn’t think about it.

I had very important things to do, like sell my boots and argue with East Scavengers about how much I money I could scam them for my burnt spoon.

Poking my head out from behind the alley, I squinted up the street, re-evaluating if I should just go back to the trash can and hide in it.

But I saw Kan and Lev further up the street, where they appeared to have stopped walking and were in the middle of another heated argument.

It was hard to tell what it was about, but Kan was pointing down the street, and Lev was pointing to the roof.

Neither seemed to be winning their side of the argument, but that didn’t stop them from pointing and shouting.

Haha. Typical Covienians.

Suddenly, I saw a blur further up the street, past where the two Kovals' Mechanics were arguing vehemently. The blur dashed out of a side street and into a shuttle tunnel.

They saw it, too, and the two Mechanics took off after it—their distant expressions changing from frustrated to triumphant.

“Stop right there!” I heard Kan holler after the panicked, thieving blur.

I stared at the shuttle tunnel entrance, watching the two Mechanics disappear.

Well, that must have been the Geodian they were looking for.

Relief flooded my head. I could carry on to Grey market and not have to worry about Kovals’. Just to make sure, I waited a few more moments before stepping out from the alley.

I trotted back to the sign, looking up at it.

“Now, what does that one say… is that an O…? ”

I stared at the sign in ignorance. I could make out nothing.

That's okay. I went to the next one. Sometimes, I could pick up a few words here and there…

As I tried to focus on the signs, my mind kept wandering to the other Geodian. If it really was the same Geodian I had talked to earlier today, then I felt bad for him. He seemed nice. And I didn’t meet a lot of nice people.

I thought about shuttle tunnels. How they all lead outside of the mountain.

How anyone stupid enough to run into one basically was dooming themselves to a dead end, unless they sprouted wings and flew.

I looked back up at the sign, unaware I had been looking down at my bare feet.

I blew the air out of my lungs.

For all I knew, the signs could be saying ‘go-back-now-and-help-that-moron-before-it's-too-late.’

One of the beetles chirped atop the very tallest sign, drawing my attention to it.

“Ugh–what?” I asked, spreading my hands angrily. “I can’t help him!”

The beetle chirped again, and I couldn’t help but feel it wasn’t on my side.

“What am I gonna do?” I pleaded. “It’s not my fault.”

The beetle chirped again, closing its pincers decidedly.

I twisted to look up the street, murmuring a curse under my breath.

Before I knew it, I had taken my boots out of my bag–and slipping them on, I had started to run towards the shuttle tunnel.

Damn bugs.

The shuttle tunnel was quiet and empty. I peered into the large space, looking both ways before stepping in.

I gripped the strap of my bag with sweaty hands. “Oh, what are you doing, you stupid mechscrubber?” I whispered, my boots squeaking against the smooth metal floor as I walked down the tunnel.

“This is a stupid idea. This is a stupid idea. This is a stupid idea…” I kept on repeating the words, hoping that the universe would hear me and tell me to stop and turn back.

It didn’t.

Truth be told, I was kinda disappointed.

Hugging the edge of the tunnel, I prayed no shuttles would come from within the mountain to squish me into the wall. It was a tight fit to squeeze the shuttles through these tunnels, but not so tight that they had to take the crates and odd box out. It looked like they were doing some kind of repairs and left a ton of the equipment down here.

Was it curiosity or moral obligation that kept me moving further and further into the tunnel? If it was curiosity, then it was about to run out, and if it was moral obligation, then I might have needed to re-think just what exactly I thought I could do to help in this situation.

Up ahead I heard a clang, and I stopped in my tracks, frozen to the smooth tunnel floor.

“Stay back!” Lev shouted up past a wide bend in the tunnel. “I’m warning you!”

Instead of a response, there was an ugly sound of a Ripple Charger being used. Someone cried out in pain, and the short sound of a scuffle followed.

I searched around wildly. I couldn’t help here. I didn’t know what I was doing.

“I got the box,” cried Kan. “Leave him!”

Oh, and then something truly terrifying happened.

I heard two pairs of footsteps running towards me.

I dove into a large crate, curling up at the bottom, praying that whoever passed wouldn’t hear my pounding heartbeat.

Through the cracks of the crate, I saw Lev and Kan run past with the Lightcore box in their hands.

No! They got it back! I had to refrain from hitting the side of the crate in anger.

As soon as they disappeared out of the tunnel-street, I leapt from the crate and ran around the bend.

Who was hurt? Who used the Ripple Charger? Was the Geodian dead? Was I too late? Could I have done anything if he had perished? Did I have any answers to these questions? No. Was I going to keep asking them anyway? Probably.

With all these thoughts in mind, I rounded the bend, expecting to see a dead body on the ground.

I stopped, freezing in place as I saw the Geodian lift shakily from the damp ground.

It was the end of the shuttle tunnel, and it was wet and slick where today's rain had bucketed in. The large mouth overlooked the Hollow Wastes as yet another storm brewed in the south.

The Geo rose shakily, the heavy pack still on his back as he limped to the railing that was supposed to keep people from falling off.

So they had used the Ripple Charger on him. It looked bad. He was barely putting any weight on his right leg. He hadn’t noticed me yet, and he leant down to inspect his leg, resting heavily on the railing.

I saw it happening before the Geo realised his mistake.

Whether the rain had weakened the poorly made concrete or this level had simply just decided to disintegrate, the railing bent at the base, the concrete it had been set into cracked, and the Geo lost his balance.

“Wait!” I cried, stepping further into the tunnel.

But my words were too late. The railing snapped out of the concrete, bending horribly as its base crumpled away; unable to shift his weight to his injured leg in time, the Geo plunged over the side with the broken barrier.

The taste of horror filled my mouth as something glued me to the tunnel floor.

I couldn't feel my heartbeat.

No pulse of adrenaline.

It was just, cold, quiet shock as I stared at the place where the Geodain had been standing only nanoseconds before.

“Oh no.”

Before I knew what I was doing, I had raced to the edge, almost too scared to look over. Would I see a Geodian shaped pancake on the ground far below? I didn’t want to look–I didn't want to see, but something made me.

What looked up at me wasn’t a vague pancake on the distant ground below, but the dark face of the Geo, clutching desperately onto a bent railing spoke that hadn’t fully broken out of its concrete yet. His feet dangled over a drop that was more than ten levels high, and the bag on one shoulder was about to slip off.

A jolt of fear or adrenaline dropped me to my knees, and I reached down shakily. “Hang on, Sir-” I said, trying to keep the panic out of my voice. It didn’t work so well.

As I leant down, the spoke started to shift. The Geo’s eyes widened even more.

“Here–take my hand,” I said, reaching as far as I could.

Nodding shakily, the Geo readjusted to reach up with his other hand, but the movement caused the railing spoke to break free completely, giving up its concrete prison and leaping for freedom.

I dropped onto my stomach, my chin hitting the ground as I grabbed the Geo’s wrist.

We both watched in horror as the broken bit of railing plummeted down a few hundred metres.

He looked back at me, the shock not leaving his face as he got a better look at what had saved him.

“Careful,” I said, chuckling under the strain of holding the Geo, plus a mountain’s worth of adrenaline, as well. “It’s a little slippery.”

I heaved him higher, using both of my arms. This Geo was not a light person, and I thanked my own ancient Geodian genetics that allowed me to have a little more strength then other Humarians races.

When the Geo was in reach of the concrete ledge again, he grabbed it and helped pull himself onto solid ground. Finally safe, he collapsed onto the ground next to the crumbling concrete, rolling onto his back and breathing heavily with relief.

“Sudin’s Hatiresh–I thought I was going to die,” he breathed out, putting the back of his hand over his eyes.

I sat back on my haunches, trying to expel some of my subsiding panic with a few nervous breaths. I hadn't even been the one hanging over the side of a mountain, and I felt like I was about to die.

Trying to compose myself, I got to my feet.

“Here,” I said, offering my hand. “Are you okay?”

The Geo took his hand off his eyes, looking up at me. He really was a spectacular Geo.

Light Geo’s, that's what they called them.

Bold, white geometric lines adorned his dark skin, and light brown eyes were set in a broad face. Except for the markings and skin colour, technically nothing made them different from Dark Geos–but I didn’t think so.

I thought they looked a whole lot prettier.

“Am I okay?” he echoed, still sounding a bit shocked. His voice was deep and different, like he wasn’t one hundred percent comfortable to be talking in Entrillian General.

He sat up, taking my offered hand as I pulled him off the ground.

“My friend,” he said, struggling to his feet. “I am very okay. I am… more than okay. I am alive!”

As he stood, it was evident that he had hurt his leg. Badly. His weight sagged awkwardly on the opposite side.

Giving the broken barrier a wary glance, his light brown eyes studied the height he would have fallen from if I hadn’t had caught him.

He looked back at me.

“I am not a light person–How did you…?” He got a better look at me, and now that my poncho hood wasn’t concealing my face, he saw my Geodian markings.

His eyebrows drew together in an expressive frown.

“Wait,” he said, thankful shock replacing his confusion. “You are the Geo that told us where the Lightcore was!” The realisation was delightful to the large Geodian for some reason. “Sister of Gheo’dia, you saved my life!”

Before I knew it, the Geo had picked me up easily in a bear hug, and I got the impression he was trying to break my ribs in thankfulness.

“No, no. It’s okay, I was just passing by,” I wheezed out, but I don’t think the large Geodian heard me.

“I owe you a thousand thanks, my friend,” he continued, as he released me back onto the ground. It was quite impressive that he managed to stay upright, even with his injury. Apparently, to this Geodian, thankfulness came before debilitating injuries.

It took me a moment to catch my breath. I held up one hand, coughing, “No, it’s okay. Really, it is.”

The Geo patted me on the shoulder, nearly sending me into the floor again. “Nonsense,” he said exuberantly. “I am Xander Nemeshianci, of Xenophos, and you have my"–he bowed his head slightly–“eternal gratitude.”

Xenophos? This Geo was actually from the Gheo’dia System? This wasn’t just a servant born abroad, or a son of a pioneer, this was a real Geodian, born on the capital planet of the ancient mother system of Gheo’dia.

He held out his hand, and I took it hesitantly. I had never really had to introduce myself before to anyone. Not like this.

Suddenly, I had to fight a few feelings of inadequacy.

“A pleasure to meet you Xander Ne…” I paused, trying to say his surname right. “Ne-nemshenshi.”

Oohhh, that was bad.

Best try to move on and pretend that didn’t happen.

“I’m Evren…” I stopped again. Who was I?

In an instant, I could feel sweat at the back of my neck, dryness in the back of my throat, and a hot and insufferable feeling in my brain.

I needed to lie.

I needed to say something, and I needed to do it now.

I didn’t want him to think I was a slave. Who was I? What did I do? I had so many ideas for a last name over the past six months, but I couldn’t think of a single one of them now that I actually needed one.

As I stared up at the towering Geodian, with a blank expression and thoughts that were going at a hundred miles per hour, I realised I wasn’t anyone– I was just a piece of Astrogate debris from one of the biggest Astrostorms in the West Sector.

I cleared my throat. “My name is... Evren… West.”

He shook my hand finally, not seeming to mind that I had taken thirty long seconds to say my name. Oh Ethreals lights. How could he not know I was lying?

“They took your Lightcore,” I informed him bitterly, subconsciously hiding my right arm under my poncho when he had released it. I didn’t think he noticed the bandages. With my other hand, I gestured down the shuttle tunnel. “I saw them when I was hiding in some crates.”

Xander straightened his wrinkled shirt, seeming more bothered about the marks on his shirt than my words. “Well, it's quite a pleasure to meet you, Evren West,” he said simply.

What? Didn’t he care about his Lightcore? Didn’t he just steal it back?

Maybe he didn’t hear me.

Something about him confused me. He held himself like any other offworlder, confident and sure and dangerous–but his clothes and expression didn’t seem to match said persona. Flowy, casual pants and an off-white shirt were tucked into a colourful orange scarf, wrapped around his waist where beads and tokens–that matched the ones around his neck–were clipped into the fabric. His dark boots seemed more like they fit his character. They looked very well used and very tired of existence.

And to top it all off, a large brown bag that resembled an exhausted and ratty flour sack, sat comfortably at his back by a thick strap.

Xander pulled said bag from off his shoulder, and rifled through it, giving a large sigh of relief as he pulled a large cylinder from the brown sack.

“Oh, thank the Evering,” he whispered in relief as he struggled to hold it with just one hand.

I had never seen a Lightcore before, but of course, I had heard of them. They were the somewhat legendary cores that powered Light Engines, that made Deep Space travel faster, and more reliable. The very large piece of equipment glowed a saturated light blue, sending an almost teal hue into the air.

I licked my dry lips, my thoughts lingering on the Lightcore for longer than I should have. The energy coming off of it felt warm, hot, and cool, all at the same time. I wanted to feel it–to touch it–but I felt like that would be weird… so I didn’t.

“It was in your bag the entire time…” I said in amazement, stifling my desire to fondle the glowing engine heart. “The Mechanics think they took it back, but… you had it in your bag.”

The Geo smiled, looking down at me momentarily before he placed the core gently back in his bag. He winced, shifting his weight from his foot again.

“Clever, wasn’t it?” he asked proudly. “Now it will take them longer for them to realise they have to find me again.” He paused, looking down at me with an interesting look. “It wasn’t exactly the Grey market, that place where you sent us.”

I froze.

This wasn’t a part of the plan.

I was supposed to send them down to Kovals' and never see them again. Now I had to explain.

Curse the universe's twisted sense of humour.

I rubbed the back of my neck. “Oh, I uh–Hehe, I guess I gave you some creative directions. Sorry.”

I put my hands into my pockets, drawing my eyebrows together as I gave my excuses. “I overheard you and your friend talking, and I knew you wouldn’t have found the Lightcore on the Grey market–because I used to work for the people who stole it… and I saw it in their shop?”

I winced up at the offworlder.

He didn't seem upset. He only rubbed his chin thoughtfully as he looked at the ground.

“Hmm...” he said, taking his eyes off the floor and looking back at me with raised, white eyebrows. “So I take it you no longer work for those horrible mechanics?”

I recoiled from the idea. “Oh, no way!” I held up my hands like the very idea held me at gunpoint. “I hate those guys! I got fired because I took something back that they stole from my friend–well, at least, I think I'm fired.” I laughed. “They didn’t like that.”

Xander seemed to be thinking about it. His expression changed from pensive to delighted. “And so you told us where it was...”

He smiled. “Excellent. I am happy that you overheard us. And happy that you helped me again today.”

Despite his words, Xander didn’t seem too pleased with every outcome of the day. He shuffled forward a few steps down the tunnel, his face paling a little as he put more pressure on his leg than intended.

“Your leg?” I asked, walking beside him as I clutched the strap to my own bag. “Was that the Ripple Charger?”

Xander nodded, motioning to his ankle. He pulled up a loose and flowy pant leg to reveal a quickly swelling ankle joint. “That damned mechanic panicked and hit me with it after I knocked him down.” He winced. “I think… the ligament… is… not so good.”

Oh gods. Ripple Chargers were as common as grass stalks in Lisk–they sent out a series of electrical pulses that were harmful to both Bots and humans. Some were modified to just be painful, others to cause blackouts, and some, as lucky Xander here had found out, were to wreak havoc on muscle and tissue.

“Will you be okay?” I asked, as Xander bravely stepped out on his bad leg again.

“Of course. I am Xander Nemeshianci, a Tenth Ring Fighter, and a Merchant of the void,” he declared. “I can walk a few levels up to my ship.” As he said the words, he stumbled on his leg, a small noise of pain escaping his lips. Before the Geo could collapse onto the ground again, I ducked under his arm, pushing him back up with my shoulder.

“Where is your hangar?”

Xander took a moment to think about it. For a moment, I was worried that he might have forgotten.

“Level Forty,” he said at last. “But I cannot remember what bay it is in.”

I winced mentally.

Eesh–level Forty. Anybody parking that low must be down on their luck.

“Right,” I said. “I know you’re not from around here, but do you know that this is The Shaft? About thirty odd levels to that hangar? And do you know what the Mechanics will do to you if they find you again?”

Xander shook his head. “Cut me into little pieces and feed me to a Yddr'ak?”

I nodded. “Yeah.”

Sighing, I looked back down the tunnel as I propped the unstable Geodian up with my shoulder.

The East Scavengers had said they were only going to be in Lisk for a few days–a few days ago. And it was at Tiln, which should only be a few hours away, if not less… Soon, it would be too late to get those seventy five Disks.

But how could I leave the Geodian? He couldn’t walk by himself, and he certainly couldn’t find his hangar before the Mechanics found him, I was sure.

It was true, I wanted to just give him directions and go.

But that’s what a Covienian would do.

I ground my teeth.

And I was not Covienian.

I looked up at Xander. “Further up this tunnel, there’s a let-out for the Adit Lift, it can take us to an unused part of Lisk.” We started shuffling forward. “The Mechanics will be hard pressed to find us there.”

It really was quite hilarious. I was not tall, and this Geo was not short. If I ever met Fate, I would tell her that she should have sent someone taller to be his crutch.

Xander gratefully leaned against my shoulder again as we walked. Laughing weakly, his voice almost held tones of guilt.

“I am very ashamed. I usually do not get myself stuck on strange levels in strange ports, incapable of finding my way back to my ship. Your kindness is not something you share with your fellow Covienians.”

I did my best to not let out a disgusted sigh.

Ugh. Fellow Covienians, my hat.

I shrugged as best I could. “No, it isn’t,” I agreed. “But I was just passing by when you were attacked. Anyone else would have helped you.”

That wasn’t true, but I wondered if Xander knew that.

Xander raised an eyebrow. “Passing by… in a shuttle tunnel?” he asked.

I looked away as we walked, biting the inside of my cheek.

Dammit. That was a stupid thing to say.

“I–I mean–” I stammered, my voice echoing around the tunnel, "that I saw those Mechanics chase you in here, so I thought I should help.”

Xander limped beside me, leaning awkwardly on my shoulder as he chuckled. “Well, it was very lucky that you did.”

“Lucky?” I echoed, more annoyed than amused for some reason. “No,” I added, “it wasn’t luck. There's no luck out here–not in the Blue Fringe.”

“Oh,” said Xander as we neared an exit to the tunnel. It was like the wall had got knocked out one day and they decided to make a let-out here. “Then it must have been… destiny.” The Geodian laughed easily again. “Yes, destiny. That is why I saw you twice today.”

“Are you sure it’s not because I happen to live in this settlement?”

“Oh, maybe that, too,” answered the Geodian sheepishly as we stepped out of the dark tunnel, and into the bright street beyond.

“-but that seems less exciting.”