The Saving of the Technomages

by Dekri

This is a technomage story. It covers Federico's coming of age and my take on what happens to the technomages after the Shadow War. The main connecting story starts in 2269 with a cure having just been found. NOTE: This story was moved to Archive of Our Own... /works/8291483

11. What Kind of Fool Are You?

11- What Kind of Fool Are You?

The sudden burst of shadow communication spells broke Galen's concentration. Aboard Fed's ship inside the Excalibur, Galen dissociated from Fed's sphere. He activated his probe network on the Excalibur, looking for his fellow technomage. No longer in Medlab, Galen leafed through his probes until he found Fed in the rec room. When the other mage had been further away, Galen hardly noticed the diffused hum of Fed's Shadow tech. The spells in an adjoining space prickled Galen, like suddenly donning an undershirt made of wool.

To Galen's surprise, Fed stood right by Dureena with the sword in his arms. Somehow Fed had charmed it away from her. Listening in on their conversation, it pleased him to learn Dureena sought understanding. It pained him that he could not give that to her. But the Finger of God, disguised as a sword, had been clear. Stay silent and out of its way. It still appeared inert. The thing's plan an opaque mystery. Hopefully, Fed would not antagonize it.

So, he simply watched, and enjoyed as Dureena rightly snapped at Fed for ogling her. Her temper did not surprise Galen. She'd progressed in her self-control but had not mastered herself, yet. Fed better be careful or he'd likely wind up back in Medlab with fresh injuries. When she abandoned Fed, Galen grinned a bit, pleased that Dureena resisted his offered charms. The warm feeling vanished when he realized why her reaction mattered to him.

Pushing those feelings down, Galen attempted to backtrack the other mage's path through his probe network's histories. They had next to nothing. Fed had cloaked himself outside of MedLab, appeared in the highest observation room, and much later turned up at the celebration to irritate Max and Dureena.

A sinking feeling crept up his spine. He loaded Matthew's node, only to find him asleep in his bed. Odd. Matthew seemed too tightly wound for a nap. Galen looked harder- checking the integrity of his probe's hardware. Error checking the code. The code check failed. The probe looped a recording from days ago. None of Galen's security wards had detected the breach. Irritation filled Galen. The one way Fed surpassed Galen, besides his dubious skill at bed hoping, hacking. Only one reason existed why Fed would do such a thing. He didn't want Galen to see their conversation.

With rising alarm, he rolled-back the code and rebooted the probe. Always expecting the worst he had never been disappointed, until today. Gideon puttered around his desk, cleaning up some strewn cards as if from a failed card trick. Then Matthew made his way to his bunk. Along the way, he shed his jacket and boots. At his bunk, Matthew turned to stare straight up at the light where Galen's probe resided. Their eyes locked virtually through the probe. Galen eralized Matthew now knew he was being watched. He half expected words of rebuke to fly, but no. Instead, Matthew fell backwards onto his pillow and closed his eyes. To Galen's astonishment, gentle snores from Matthew's surrender to some much deserved rest quickly followed.

Galen shut down the probe. A normal person under normal circumstances would feel guilt for spying. But nothing about Galen or really his whole life, had ever been normal. He found no guilt within him. To be of real use he needed as many puzzle pieces as possible. Especially now that the board had expanded to include a new piece, Fed.

Whatever happened between Fed and Matthew couldn't have been too alarming. After all, no plea from Matthew for help. To find out what happened between them, he would have to use the most loathsome and unreliable of methods- asking.

Switching back to the rec room probe, he focused on Fed. The concentration evident on his face, Galen sensed another spike from a spell. Checking in with the Circle most likely. When it ended, Fed's head dropped like a dying balloon to the bar and stayed there making him look like a passed out drunk. Time for some loathsome asking.

/What are you doing?/

Fed bolted upright and grabbed a tiny passing ham sandwich. Then ate it too quickly. /Eating the worst sandwich I've ever tasted./

/It's the bread. They add a preservative similar to rubber./ Fed spat his bite. The chunk flew an impressive distance to hit the back wall of the makeshift bar with a splat.

Galen dove at his point. /You're supposed to be in Medlab./

/I've been cooped up for years. Gotta take in all the sights when I get the chance./ Fed had turned around and looked toward the makeshift dance floor. This would not get far without directness.

/You disabled my probe so you would not be observed while speaking to Matthew./ No answer came, beyond Fed swaying in time with the beat of the party music. A grin shifted Fed's beard. Galen scanned him. Nothing altered in his base metabolic rates. Of course Fed would have been trained how to lie effectively.

Galen pushed. /Answer me./

/There wasn't a question./ Willful misunderstanding- one of the more simplistic misdirection techniques. Fine, he'd play whatever game Fed had thought up.

/What did you speak of?/

/Why I'm here./

For once, Galen wished Fed would say more than was necessary. He prodded Fed. /Specifically?/

/He knows I need your help to rescue someone. Plenty of me begging him to delay going to Mars so you'll come with me./

That Fed went around him and engaged Matthew in a private conversation drove Galen to the point of anger. That he spilled the Order's private business before Matthew made him want to shake Fed for his foolishness. Secrecy, one of the core basic tenets of the technomage code, seemed to still mean nothing to him. Some things, or rather people, never changed.

Yet, somehow Fed had gotten Matthew to take a nap. A practical minor miracle given Matthew's stubborn nature. An intriguing idea, the beginnings of a plan, coalesced in Galen as if it had always been there. After their horrific misadventure in the Scorpius base, he would rather go to Mars alone. And Matthew desperately needed rest. Truthfully, Fed smiled and charmed as naturally as Galen scowled and brooded. Perhaps Fed could talk Matthew into not going, or at least delaying until Galen understood the extent of what they were up against and worked out a plan. A few encouraging words in both their ears might reap that reward.

Neither Matthew, nor Fed would appreciate his manipulation. But he could live with their displeasure if it served the greater good, keeping Mathew safe. And since Fed seemed determined to not leave for Vorlon without him, perhaps Fed could be of use on Mars. His hacking abilities especially could be channeled for the greater good.

Galen decided to proceed with his plan to maneuver them where they belonged.

/And how did Matthew answer?/

/He's got a good poker face. Not sure. Said he'd consider it./

/I hope he sees the wisdom of your pleas. You should keep at him./

/Really?! So then you'll come with me./

/We'll see./

Galen was going to Mars regardless, but Fed need not know that. Yet. A minute speck of guilt crept up on Galen. He parried it away. Technically he hadn't lied to Fed since he essentially answered maybe.

What Galen didn't understand was Fed believed the only reason he planned to go to Mars was because of Matthew. He was so obsessed with his Vorlon mission, it blinded him to everything else. Even though Galen clearly told him the Order might have vital interests at stake on Mars. What a fool. That thought triggered a memory, a mostly forgotten lesson from his youth.

Galen finished his swim. Precisely 50 laps, 20 more than what Elric suggested.

On the tiled pool deck by the shallow end, a boisterous group of fellow apprentices frolicked. As always at the center- Fed. Galen hoped to slip by unnoticed. Avoid the others his instincts begged. As he climbed out of the pool by a ladder a girl's voice, his friend Carvin, called to him.

"How can you leave?! The water's glorious," Carvin shouted at him.

Waving him back, she treaded water in the deep blue. Beside her, another of their cohort, Gowen floated serenely on his back with his eyes closed. If it wasn't for his broad smile Galen would have guessed he meditated.

He focused beyond her. Even though they were friends Galen couldn't admit the truth to her. Too many others about. And the girls… now that he was 16, they had suddenly evolved from uninteresting cylinders into beings that drew his eyes like magnets of opposite poles. Their disquieting features barely concealed by the pool. Galen sighed, unable to admit his trouble to his oldest friend, Carvin. She was a girl, and probably wouldn't understand.

Galen told as much of the truth as he could stand, "My exercises are done. Elric will want me to return to my studies."

Carvin splashed him. "That sounds like an excuse. One of these days you're going to have to learn to just be."

With an agreeing nod, he watched as she dove away like a dolphin until she was under Gowen, who shrieked when she yanked his leg.

Dripping wet, Galen set out for his towel, which he'd left on the last lounger as far from everyone as possible. Poor choice in retrospect. Every lounger he paced past seemed to have a barely clad technomagess sunning herself. His eyes pleaded with him to linger, to study, and understand their mystery. He held his breath as he walked past. His eyes focused on the ground, at feet. Thankfully that did nothing to excite. By the shallow end, the big clump of apprentices noisily cheered something. He ignored them.

At the last convocation, when he was just 13, he hadn't felt anything like this. When it first surfaced, he thought to ask Elric. Yet when it came time to actually speak, just the thought of speaking it aloud made him want to hurl himself into the sea near their home. Instead he turned to books. Once he understood it was just puberty, he did what he normally did, he buried the new feelings deep and ignored them.

Once he reached the remote corner where he left his towel, he breathed out in relief. Next to his lounger, Elizar sunned himself, a book in hand. Not reading, Elizar watched the others over the open spine.

As Galen bent over to dry his face, a shadow covered his back. Galen looked up. Elizar shaded him. Not an unwelcome presence, usually.

Elizar cocked a thumb at the shallow end of the pool. "Did you see that?"

Having to shield his eyes from Proxima's perpetual sunset, Galen followed the gesture. The same boisterous group of fellow apprentices he had snuck past. The girls all wore the same bikinis, heavy sigh, like some exotic avian flock. From this angle he saw the group surrounded Fed and Kane as they play-wrestled. Finian goaded each side against the other. Typical.

"No, what?"

"Watch," Elizar said with a smirk.

With a quick throw from Kane, Fed fell head first into the shallows. The outcome, not a surprise considering Fed was still the smallest among the boys of their cohort. A soaked but smiling Fed climbed right out, and went straight at Kane again, trying to drag him into the water.

Most giggled at the pair's antics. Except Ak-Shana, with her top that must be several sizes too small. Teeth-clenching sigh. Galen forced himself to look away from her. Still he heard Ak-Shana order Kane to stand his ground like a drill sergeant. A red-faced Finian, a close friend to both Fed and Kane, hollered at Fed to- pull a David on Kane's Goliath sized ass. Then cheered Kane to show the imp who's boss. Their game made little sense to Galen.

Elizar spoke, "That's the fourth time Fed fell into the shallow end, head first."

This was a test of their friendship. Perhaps Elizar felt left out for like Galen he could never truly relax around the others. Galen because he never felt comfortable with anyone. Elizar because as Kell's apprentice he was of the line of Wierden. Great things were expected of him as Kell groomed him to lead the Order.

Galen assumed it would not hurt to give an honest answer. "Clearly Fed's adept at being unavoidable. He only ever assaults me with an excess of words," Galen offered.

Elizar nodded approval and looked back at the source of the disturbance. Kane held Fed with arms locked under the other's armpits and wound up behind Fed's neck. Ak-Shana grabbed Fed's legs. They heaved him into the pool like a sack. Ak-Shana grabbed Kane's hand. Together, they jumped on top of where they had tossed Fed. Finian, more red-faced, screamed the word cheaters again and again. The rest of the group poured into the pool. Last of all Finian, dove in, head first as well, in the middle of the splash frenzy commenced by Carvin. Some new game had started.

"Kell took us to visit Aldous. Fed was there. Kell said he saw potential in Fed. I'm now sure only a potential toward idiocy."

Elizar looked to Galen and filled the silence. "I had to waste two days in that buffoon's company as he spewed his endless nonsense. Did you know he's never read a book? And his wardrobe- dignified and restrained are not words I'd use. His jokes weren't bad though. What a perfect fool."

The words resounded like a bell clanging out harsh judgements. Galen didn't say anything, as an uncomfortable feeling crawled up his spine.

Elizar chuckled and said, "Perhaps when I join the Circle, I'll make him the Order's official fool. The only job he'll be capable at."

Despite agreeing, everyone knew Fed was a fool, Galen had enough. Elizar had gone too far. He should say something. "I … I don't believe the Order has ever had a fool, official or otherwise," Galen answered truthfully, as he wondered how to end this conversation.

"Galen." Elric's stern voice always made Galen reflexively straightened his spine. "Come with me."

With relief and a bow to Elric, Galen hastened to obey. Elizar merely inclined his head before sitting back down to his not reading. With a towel wrapped about his shoulders, Galen joined his teacher.

As they walked to their shared quarters, Elric said to him, "You involved yourself in a foolish conversation."

If that'd been a test, he'd failed. "I'm sorry."

"Do not ever apologize for words spoken honestly. It is I who have not taught you well enough." Elric's words landed on Galen like hammer blows shaping hot iron. The lesson solidified- do not apologize.

Elric said, "Every being is born a naive fool. Everyone. And with every choice made, one either remains a fool, or grows toward wisdom." Elric stopped and faced Galen.

With a severe scowl, Elric lectured to the silent, mortified Galen, "On one end, the best sort- the humble fools. They instinctively yearn for the understanding that leads to wisdom. In between the fools controlled by their emotions like fear or rage. The rest, the worst sort- the arrogant fools. If they grow at all, it is despite themselves for they think themselves already wise because of their talent, intellect, or luck in birth."

Elric's severeness eased. "Fortunate for all, with careful self-reflection, any fool can grow to wisdom. The first step is to ask but one question. What kind of fool am I?"

The young Galen hadn't fully understood, apart from Elric's admonishment to stay away from Order gossip. That he obeyed perfectly. He never encouraged such talk again. And if he inadvertently heard some gossip it died with him.

Only now, as a grown man, did Galen really understand Elric's many layered lesson. A verbal treasure map to becoming truly wise. Like Elizar, Galen possessed the unholy trinity- talent, intellect and luck in birth. Add arrogance, which Elizar had in abundance and by Elric's equation- the worst sort of fool. Fortunately for the Order, Galen put an end to Elizar and his murderous ways.

Yet Elric's words had been directed at Galen, not Elizar. Elric meant to warn him. Galen did not think of himself as arrogant. Would those who knew him think otherwise? Considering how he acted on board the Excalibur, he shrunk at the thought of asking Matthew, Dureena or the others.

Of the Order, everyone whose opinion really mattered to him was long dead. Still curiosity drove him. There was Alwyn. That father figure loved him too much. Galen doubted he'd answer honestly. Whether true or not, Alwyn would only praise to the heavens. Like he did with his father. That left… There was one about for whom he had a grudging fondness. One who had known him since childhood. One who'd be honest or at least talk his ear off about anything he asked.

Before he changed his mind he messaged Fed. /Do you think me arrogant?/

/Where'd this come from?/

/Idol curiosity./

No quick answer came. Galen inhaled and exhaled deeply. It would not be the reflexive comforting no.

/You're a technomage./ Fed's answer left Galen unsatisfied for he already knew this.

/Elaborate./

/It comes with the territory. We're all arrogant in a way./

Sure that Fed would blurt out all his thoughts on the matter, Galen asked. /And what's my way?/

/You're super certain about how things should be, and you're not a big fan of input from others./ Fed's answer arrived immediately. As if he didn't need to consider because he had worked out the answer to Galen's question long ago.

The words were not what he wanted to hear. Of course he didn't like the input of others. They were typically wrong, slow or foolish. Like at the Path of Sorrows. Was it his fault that the answer revealed itself to him whole? No. Or his fault that he knew with plain certainty how to make Dureena supply the required tears. No. Perhaps he should have explained himself first, but that would take time and only lead to argument. This was Galen's burden, to never hesitate to do what must be done, to...

The thought sputtered out. Looked at from afar, he could hear his own arrogance. His love of getting his way. His impatience with having to explain himself to others. His instinctive distrust when he was not the one in command of the situation. Worse the Path of Sorrows was not the only time he acted like that. He was not like Elizar, but he had a talent for arrogance.

Still he did not want to fully accept the self-judgement. He had grown so much after he became one with his tech, after Z'ha'dum.

Besides he reflected on everything, constantly. A quiet self-admonishment in Elric's voice answered, Obsessing in circles about Isabelle, like the snake eating its own tail, was hardly careful self-reflection. His rage at God, his despair over all those he'd lost and what he had endured controlled him still. And that wasn't the only thing he thought about in circles.

What kind of fool was Galen? … An emotional fool at best, and an arrogant one at his worst. The truth laid bare before him like a newborn child. Vulnerable but with great potential. What he'd do with this new self awareness, he hadn't a clue.

His musing got interrupted by a new message from Fed. /Do you mind if I talk to Dureena, alone?/

Yes, I mind. After perhaps too long a pause, instead he sent, /Why ask me?/

/You seemed upset with me talking to your Captain. I figured I'd ask first./

Galen seethed gently, but determined to master his feelings, he carefully replied. /Clearly that is up to her. Not me./

/Great. I'm taking Dureena on a magic carpet ride./

His control burst. Instinctively, Galen shouted, "Don't you dare you unkempt lothario!"

Luckily, he was alone in Fed's cabin and so no one heard his outburst. The strength of his reaction shocked him back to silence. A new emotion, furious possessiveness. Jealousy he supposed. Lovely. Bonus, one he had no right to feel. For even if he and Dureena shared something, his reaction would be wrong. If she wanted to... be with Fed, Galen gritted his teeth, or any other, it was none of his business. Jealousy was but another arrow in the emotional fool's quiver.

No more pointless chatting with Fed he decided.

He fished out the ring he wore on a long chain around his neck. He had taken to wearing it after leaving Isabelle's necklace at the Well Of Forever. His father's ring. His reminder of why to never love another.

When he left the hiding place to pursue the Drakh and cure for the plague, first, he travelled back to pay his respects to Soom, Elric's former place of power and his old childhood home after his parents died.

On the still recovering Shadow scorched world, he found the remains of his friend, Fa, to whom he had given his father's ring as a token of friendship, before he realized what the ring was or could do. Poor Fa. One of Elizar's victims. Fa's remains he buried with great care and respect hoping it would give him closure on the fate that had befallen her and Soom. It had not.

In the end he refused to bury the ring with Fa as it had been the cause of the poor child's death. Yet he could neither throw it away, nor destroy it. Beyond his DNA, the ring represented his only physical connection to his parents. Made by his mother, it was like her- elegant, and deadly. Originally, the ring had been his mother's love gift to his father. In reality, a trojan horse. A weapon to carry out her revenge. Years of her jealousy over his father's perceived dalliances and power grabs culminated in this monstrosity. She tried to kill him with it, but he took her with him.

Galen rotated the ring with the hideous history between his thumb and finger, and wondered which parent he took after. The answer stared him in the face. The worst traits of both mixed inside him. His father's cold control did a magnificent job of keeping his mother's volcano of emotions from erupting. Until that control snapped, and emotional lava exploded.

With his new ugly feeling toward Dureena, he deemed the ring's presence around his neck right. Its weight more cynical anchor than cherished keepsake. Its whispered reminder- loving another always ended badly.

While he couldn't help his instinctive reaction. He could still master himself. Asserting his will, he ended his jealousy. Like a staked vampire, it vaporized to dust. At least he could do that much for himself and Dureena.

Besides there was no reason to think Fed's second attempt at charming Dureena would end differently than her scowling at him. With that simple thought of them alone together, jealousy re-knitted itself to his soul again. Again, he rebuked it, refusing to be its fool. He stopped there. Instead of thinking in circles, he decided to take the advice Carvin had given his 16 year old self. Just be.

With a deep breath, he meditated on his surroundings, Fed's private cabin. Really taking it in this time. Not just the looming Vorlon suit. The rest said much about its owner. In the corner between the damaged Vorlon suit and the bathroom, a heap of laundry. Clean or dirty Galen couldn't tell. Above the foot of the bed, a cluttered shelf. A mix of corked cologne bottles scattered between half-burned votive candles. That explained the mingled smells he could not place. Behind the vials, a velvet picture of Elvis kneeling before the Virgin Mary holding the baby Jesus. Opposite the bed, the cabins closet, propped open with a chunk of meteor. A rainbow of colorful clothes threatened to burst out. At the bottom, a body pillow Galen made a mental note to not touch, ever. The pillow featured a woman with big eyes, thick glasses balanced on the tip of her nose, a strategically placed Hufflepuff scarf wrapped around it and not much else. He had to hand it to Fed, at least he had his own style.

A surprising sense of calm filled him. Tucking away the ring, he turned back to his task. Fed's memory ball.

A new question came to him. What sort of fool was Fed? No immediate answer came.

Truthfully he never really understood Fed. At their initiation, when asked his Being question, why he was a technomage, Fed answered, To make the rest of you look good, obviously. At the time Galen gave it little thought. A flippant joke made at the expense of their most revered ceremony. Typical Fed.

What did Fed's answer really say about him? The most obvious. His answer- a spur of the moment utterance. That any other technomage couldn't help but look good compared to him. Which meant he saw himself as the least of them. What else? It showed simple minded vulnerability. So a definite lack of ego. Saying that openly to everyone in the Order made him a fool, a humble one. By Elric's teaching, the best sort of fool. He had nowhere to go but up.

At the same time, after living in the hiding place, Galen knew Fed preferred to lazily wallow in drink and sex rather than do any difficult work or careful study. Or so Galen reasonably guessed. Admittedly, Galen never studied Fed. While they lived together, his observations were infrequent and involuntary. Can anyone really hide their true self for long? Not in Galen's experience.

A disquiet settled on Galen. Fed still seemed the careless fool. Surely, his injuries, missing hand, were proof of that. Could there be more to him? Galen couldn't picture it. Fed had always acted like an idiot around him. All about fun, jokes and gossip. Nonsense. But... perhaps like Elizar, Galen played the arrogant fool for thinking Fed not capable of more.

A horrible distillation occurred to him. And amused him, if he was perfectly honest. They were both fools, in opposite ways. Their respective beings, foolish tendencies, balanced each other. A sort of technomage yin and yang.

Enough. In his mind's eye, he saw Fed make his way to Dureena's table at the party. Jealousy stirred again. Before it kicked up more ugliness, Galen shut off his probe network. Let Fed have his fun … for now.

He'd pin Fed under a microscope. One way or another, Galen always got his answers.

At the party, Fed breathed out in relief once Galen went silent. He couldn't believe how chatty Galen had become. They'd talked more in the last day then they had … well, probably ever. Being on the Excalibur must be good for him.

He returned to streaming everything Max's private files had on Dureena's people. Her world gone, a small pocket left on some god-forsaken colony world, Theta 49. It wasn't much, but clearly Fed was right. The archaeologist had a soft spot for her. The man booked, paid out his own pocket, transport for Dureena on a freighter heading there in a few days.

In the last file, one asterisked note, asking a woman to dance in their culture meant… oh no. Depending on how you did it- without a hand out- an invitation for the dance to be followed by quick meaningless sex. Considered lewd in their culture. With a hand out- an immediate binding marriage agreement. Ack. He couldn't remember if he had held his hand out to her. Suddenly he felt lucky. Dureena hadn't one, demanded he bend down on one knee with a ring, or two, stabbed him for asshattery with one of the dozen knives she had hidden on herself. A close call. Instead he'd checked her out with the subtlety of a spotlight. She just hated him. And she was right to. He'd been a total idiot. That he could fix, he hoped.

Weaving between out of place chairs and a stumbling drunk, Fed made his way to where Dureena sat with Max and that pretty ship's doctor, Sarah. His mind grinded on how to get Dureena to accept his invitation after he'd cocked up meeting her. Direct, frankness wrapped in self deprecating humor had always worked best for him. But if he didn't play this right he'd wind up pissing all three of them off.

First, he turned on the scanners in his eyes to monitor their state. He saw them on much more of the EM spectrum. Max elevated across the board. Aggression but mild. Sarah smiled. Her readings low, steady. Undisturbed, perhaps because of the second glass of wine she sipped. Dureena revved like an engine, hot and cold. Odd. Fed wasn't sure what that meant.

As he was nearly to them, Max stood up and blocked his way. Fed could feel the protective waves coming off the guy.

Max said, "Need another ogle or are you here to not tell us more about the sword?"

"I always make the worst first impressions. Bad habit of mine. Sorry." Fed bowed to Dureena more than anyone. He didn't wait for an acknowledgment. Before Max could dismiss him outright, Fed gave him what he wanted. "I have more information."

Max looked back at the women, in pain. His intellectual greed warred with his white knighting. Dureena saved him. She stepped in front of Max. No need for a protector that one.

"What?" Dureena said, hand resting on her sword.

Pointing at her sword, Fed said, "Info about it is keyed to the term Finger of God. Like I said, First One level tech. But they're pure synthetic, non-organic AI."

Max was already on his tablet searching. "Still not finding a thing."

"The Great Library of the Abbai Matriarchate on Ssumssha has what you need to translate the ruins." The intellectual avarice flared out Max's eyes. With a squeeze of his tablet, he hissed at Fed clearly pissed that the mage was making him choose.

Dureena chose for him. "Go." The greed won. With a look of, you better not try anything buddy or I'm coming for you, Max hustled off.

Her fists balled, Dureena said, "Are we done or are you going to collect your dance?" She didn't want to spend time with him. He didn't blame her. Sometimes, when he had done something particularly stupid, Fed didn't want to spend time with himself either.

"Can we try again?" Fed asked.

"Why would I want that?"

"Because my company isn't usually terrible and Galen." A tiny eye flare was the only visible tell. His scans of her, on the other hand, showed a different story. Giant spike. Sustained. Heart rate, skin heat mappings, everything way up the previous revved level. Wow. Either Galen was her worst enemy or she had it bad for him.

With an arm, he indicated toward the hall out of the rec room, inviting her for a private stroll. Dureena looked behind her at Sarah. Fed read the unspoken question exchanged between the women, what do you think?

Sarah nodded. "I would. This one's got some pretty good treasure," Sarah said, toasting Fed with her wine.

Fed beamed. The chocolates he'd given her must have been a hit. Dureena headed where he indicated with a determined look. Unsure about how to get Dureena to open up, Fed followed behind.

After all the years he spent around women- talking, living, being intimate with them. Too often they still left him off balance. It reaffirmed his personal opinion that women were the greatest mystery the universe created. And worthy of relentless study. And Dureena he needed to figure out right now. Because Fed guessed, Dureena, more than Gideon, might be the key to Galen.

Catching up to her, Fed cast his illusion. They no longer walked the halls of the Excalibur. One blink to the next, they silently walked his favorite beach back on Proxima. The setting red sun warmed them as it forever paused half below the horizon. Tiny waves gently lapped their shoes as they strolled on hard wet sand. Still scanning her, he saw she didn't react. She accepted the sudden change as if this sort of thing happened all the time. Hard to impress this one.

He said meekly, "Sorry about the ogle. I... don't get out much. My manners suck."

That excuse sounded weak even to his ears. She said nothing to his apology.

So Fed kept up the conversation. "If I'd known what asking a woman to dance meant to your people, I'd kept my fool mouth shut. Maybe I can make it up to you."

Her eyebrows rose. His words surprised her. She turned to him with distant eyes that had seen too much. She said with real cynicism, "I doubt it."

Dureena returned to her quarters just as the lights in the hall dimmed automatically. Nighttime on the Excalibur.

That had not gone as she expected. Not once had he looked down her cleavage. No leeringly. Not even flirting. Maybe he forced himself to be good to get her to drop her guard. Yet, the second impression felt real.

He had walked her along a illusionary beach, apologizing most of the way, until they were suddenly in one of the observation decks. In the darkness of hyperspace, he spoke with humor hiding serious intent. Like how her brother used to talk with her as they hunted plains striders. They almost never killed anything together. Usually, Muri scared away the prey with his chatter. This colorful technomage looked nothing like Muri, yet had the same sense of humor, self-deprecating and constant. The same over-eagerness to get a reaction out of her.

With too many assurances, Fed had explained Galen was going with him on some secret technomage mission after they arrived to Mars. If she came with, they'd drop her off on Theta 49 first. She didn't trust his promises. Until his answer to her why.

"I am nothing to you. Why go out of your way to help me?" Dureena demanded.

Squaring his shoulders, he stopped slouching against the window. When he began to unbutton his shirt, her hand reflexively unsheathed her favorite knife. He put up a calming hand as he tugged and pulled his collar aside to show off a small tattoo on his pec. In the same location she had her tattoo, another guild's symbol marked him. It said, One Of Us.

Dureena recognized the guild brand. The human branch of the Smuggler's Guild. The movers of drugs, slaves and stolen goods. She'd dealt with them. Rough group.

"You're Smuggler's guild and a technomage?" she asked.

"No, just a technomage these days. But as a kid on Proxima I … didn't have a lot of choices. And it was better then giving blow jobs to pedos." Too true. She knew many who couldn't make it in her guild. Most had to turn to selling themselves to survive. The knife, she slipped back to its sheath.

"I got some stories," he chuckled. "Probably not as many as you." She recognized his sort of laughter. Many in the thieves guild had it. Forced laughs and smiles soothed the wounds on their souls. While she hid hers with leather and knives.

"You avoid my why." she said pointedly.

He gave her a quirky smile. "Getting to it. I get what it's like to be helpless and forced to make the least bad choice. Except I got lucky, I guess. Rescued young. Got real power, when I joined the Order. It's a way better brotherhood. One that tries to do some good. You haven't been as lucky. So part of the why is… I want to pay my luck forward."

"The other part?" She guessed all his showy spells and flowing words had been a setup for what was about to follow, the real cost.

Fed looked out the window as he buttoned back up. "You think there's a price, a catch. Ya. This is about Galen. He's always been an actual example of the good my Order is supposed to do. To me, anyway. An example of how to be. I, we all, owe him a lot. And I don't just mean my Order. He's the best of us, except he's got one huge problem, he's …"

"Lonely." Dureena finished his sentence.

His face lit up as he spun to her, over-excited. "Exactly. And it's on purpose. He has no idea how to connect with others. He's broken that way. And I think that's gonna kill him in the long run. So ya there's a price. It's this. I want you to reach out to Galen. Keep him company," She raised an eyebrow at that. He suddenly looked mortified, "I don't mean horizontal, naked stuff. Unless you want, umm, … hey things happen, I mean you're both adults and… argh. I should probably stop talking."

He didn't stop talking even as Dureena laughed.

With a smile still on her face, she still couldn't believe it. She'd paid his price already. With little doubt, even with some attraction, Galen didn't want her company in any way. Despite that, she couldn't help but seek Galen's company.

When she admitted to Fed that she had already tried and failed, repeatedly, Fed grinned a toothy smile and said simply same. After that, something about Fed made her feel at ease. She still didn't trust him, and refused to let her guard down around him. But given time, her instincts said she would. They shared the same creed. Never give up. Which currently, she happily and relentlessly applied to the most remarkable person she had ever met, Galen.

In the end, she agreed to go with him. Her last resistance broke when he pointed out the obvious. A technomage ship would get her to Theta 49 in days instead of weeks in the bowels of a freighter. Getting the cure to her people as fast as possible mattered most. There was no other choice besides a sure yes.

That settled, she knelt before the tiny shrine for her nightly ritual. Her new sword, she placed as an offering for the departed. Her most valued possession theirs for the night. She lit the smoke-less sticks, that the crew insisted she use, for those who had crossed before her. The three tallest dedicated to those she had loved the most. The sticks for her brother Muri, her husband Jouric, and their unborn child, would burn the longest. As always she started with the crossing chant. The first progression focused on why the Gods pulled them so soon from her life.

Tonight her concentration wavered. Something felt different. Not wrong. Rather like when the seasons used to change from winter to spring on the plains. She tried to put her finger on it. It was… inside her. A fluttering in her head.

Your religion is boring. I could pull one of their souls here, if you want to spice things up. Your dead fetus will be pretty dull though. They're usually all ignorant, glee.

By the last word, she'd rolled to the side, knocking aside chairs, her back to the wall, a dagger in each hand, trying to figure out how someone had snuck up on her. She didn't let herself believe the words.

Let's argue about something. I'll start. Technomages understand the universe about as well as a rat understands what's beyond its cage. Rebuttal?

The words appeared in her head like her own thoughts. A telepath? Every sense sharp, she waited, checking every direction, including up, as her old guild master had taught her.

Come on. I like a good argument.

"Who are you?"

How very Vorlon. Your meat bag has no idea what's waiting for him on their world. Those glowy water bags always were total sore losers. Skittering laughter.

"Meatbag? Vorlon? What are you talking about? Show yourself."

Is that the best you can do?

The voice sounded impatient, disappointed.

Her sword rose off the shrine. The leather she had carefully wrapped about it vaporized. It began to spin and glow like it had on the surface.

I promised your foolish meat bag three things even though you always say yes. Here we go. One. This is what I am.

It's metal spun off the most delicate thread she'd ever seen, cocooning the two of them in a sphere of shifting silver. She squinted as it got brighter. Floating before her, it revealed itself. A brilliant lattice of faceted gems. Tiny stars. A constellation in the night.

"You keep saying your meat bag. What is that?" Dureena asked.

A picture of Galen, naked, appeared in her mind. It shocked her but she took it all in. He was... larger then she imagined. And he had extra … bits, mostly fused to his back. She wondered what they were for. The answer filled her mind in an instant. The image of Galen skinned itself- muscles peeled away, human parts popped off leaving only his nervous system and… So that was his shadow tech. The secret that powered him. It still angered her that he hadn't bothered to tell her what he was. Or, for that matter, that her sword was actually a living being. And all the other things, too many to list, that he held back from her. She'd proved herself worthy of his trust too many times. Tight lipped fool.

Skittering laughter. Agreed. Two- This is what I want to do to you.

The images came like jumping into a rushing stream: The facets burying themselves in her brain, the silver melting into her skin, diffusing between and into her cells. A perfect merger.

You'll have my power. But I have veto power. Images flowed. A metallic shield over any part or even her whole body. Instant access to what it knew. Projectiles the size of pins with the destructive power of anywhere between a match and a nuke. And not just flying, travelling through space without the need for a ship. It left her in awe.

"What do you want in return?"

To eat you.

Dureena gasped.

Skittering. Joke. I like to argue and joke. You are bound to the meat bag. He is a Nexus. If he picks the right path, you'll be the most stimulating show around. Oh and I need a host to survive outside my greater self.

An image of a planet sized silver sphere flashed through her mind.

"Why me?" She asked it.

I liked you the best. And I enjoy toying with your meat bag. My presence upsets him. Especially when you're involved.

She laughed at the thought of anything upsetting Galen. No wonder he'd acted so oddly on that world where they found the cure and then the shuttle ride back.

Three- Do you accept me?

Power. The sword wanted to give her power. No, not a sword. Something like a God just asked if she wanted power. Everything she had done since she was sold into slavery had been about collecting skills, and knowledge. To never be a victim again. To serve justice to those who slayed her loved ones. Suddenly it felt within her grasp. Power. Revenge.

Without hesitation, she said, "Yes." She'd give them a taste of her new metal.

That's the spirit. I love revenge. Good fun, even when it's bitter.

Fun? Bitter? Dureena opened her mouth to ask what it meant but the gems pierced her eyes. Metal engulfed her like a second skin. Her clothes vaporized.

This will hurt you more than me.

The searing pain as all her skin detached from its connective under tissues, turned Dureena off like a light.

Aboard Fed's ship, Galen accessed Fed's memory ball. Fed's words filled his attention.

/6/

I upgraded my probes, tweaked their code, structure, everything. Upped the resolution and bonus, didn't give myself a stroke this time. Yah! I guess I don't totally suck at this technomaging stuff.

- 19.11.2255

Music, with excessive guitar riffs, blared so loud the words blurred to indistinct. Until, I sang along at the top of my voice, "She's some kind of demon messing in the glue. If you don't watch out it'll stick to you. To you." Dancing at the control panel of a technomage ship, my hands manipulated the projected spherical controls. "What kind of fool are you? Strange brew, killing what's inside of you." *

The display wrapped darkness around me except before me where it showed my ship landing in a small underground hangar. Narrowly passing the opened doors, I deftly tucked it against another technomage ship.

Once down, I said, "All off." The display winked off. A brightly lit cabin with turquoise walls replaced the darkness. The music blared.

I spun about to find Herazade reclined on an over stuffed red couch with her eyes closed.

With a few quick long strides, I threw myself on the open end of the couch, sending a quake up the length.

"Wakey, wakey!" I screamed over the music.

The music volume dropped quiet enough to hear speech. Without moving or opening her eyes, she said, "I see you discovered Aldous' classical music."

"Ya!" My hips sway in time with the music as I sat. "It's fantastic."

"It's crap," she argued back.

A huge smile split my face. I shouted, "It's craptastic! He asked me to play this one for you every chance I got."

A sharp single snort-laugh emanated from the other end of the couch. "He only played this when I was about to be punished. I hated this song."

"Really? Why would he … oh. He used me to punish you from beyond the grave."

"More likely a reminder to behave myself," she said as a small smile crawled across her mouth.

I laughed again but stopped suddenly to ask, "Have you misbehaved? Maybe on Mars?"

The music cut off. The ship went perfectly still. Her smile flipped over as she sat up.

"How?" She asked, with eyes narrowed to slits studying me.

With a smile, I said, "I cracked your nav system. It pegged us to New Vegas," I said.

Her eyes went wide, "How did you get superuser access?" I made to answer, but a snap of her fingers silenced me, "Nevermind. I see in the logs. You guessed my passphrase." Her smile returned. "You heard me listening to Candide, and guessed in my next password rotation I'd pull from it. Excellent application of social engineering hacking Fed." She nodded with approval.

I beamed and went right back at her, "I hear New Vegas is the worst- a cross between the crotch and armpit of the human-verse. All gangsters, gambling and hookers."

"Not really, and don't ask," she said.

"If you don't tell me, I'll assume and you know what that makes you and me into." She scowled. I ignored it and kept on her, "Come on. I won't tell anyone. Promise. Scout's honor." I held up a three fingered scout salute.

Up went her three fingers mocking my salute. She began to count down. "One- you are many things Fed but a Boy Scout is not one. Two- I already said no. Three- do not ask again." Palm up her fingers curled to a half cage, containing a small rotating ball of lightning.

I wave my hands to calm her. "Okay, no need to get all snippy."

Bouncing to my feet, I went to a wooden coat rack, grabbed a short red velvet jacket with sleeves embroidered with a disjoint rainbow.

I modelled the jacket. "Finished it. What'd you think? I think it's my best work. Do you think the ladies of Earth will like it?" I asked adjusting my coat again and again as I stood.

"Definitely. Particularly if they are color blind."

I mimed getting stabbed in the chest. "Et tu, Brute?" Examining my sleeves, I passed a finger over the rainbow embroidery that went from cuffs to elbows. A clash of several shades of each basic seven colors embroidered together. "Okay. Maybe I went a little overboard."

I grabbed an electric blue wool shawl and threw it too high in an arc over her head. It stopped in mid air as if caught on a coat hanger. She climbed to her feet. With her fingers drawing quickly along her leg, a tornado of blue swirled around her. The illusion applied as one to stamp out a new version of her. One without wrinkles or gray strands of messed up hair. Last the woolen cloak floated to neatly wrap about her shoulders.

I vibrated in front of her as if still dancing to music.

"Did you get in my energy drinks again?" she asked.

"No. … I ate three candy bars after lunch though."

She shook her head with disapproval. "If only you approached your history lessons with the same enthusiasm as this slow explosion." She waved for me to follow. My general fidgeting translated to a skipping walk.

As we walked down the exit ramp onto cobblestones, she said, "I'm sorry you will see less of Earth because of our detour. But you still have almost two weeks to explore and enjoy. Oh. Before I forget."

A small black plastic card waved before my face like a candy treat for a child on Halloween. "Credits. I put a 20k limit on it. Try not to spend it all in one place like you did last time."

"Blackjack and hookers here I come!" I yelled clapping my hands as if I had just scored a winning goal. My outburst met icy silence.

I ticked off my fingers. "One- I've perfected my card counting. Two- I haven't had a date, like ever, because you make me study like 24/7. So really pent up in here," I tapped my own chest with a thumb, "Three- I'm joking."

More icy silence. Finally Herazade muttered, "Come along. Mother Earth will have to manage your rampage."

A middle aged man, Coeus, stood by the small door, the only exit out of the underground vaulted hangar. Above the still opened hangar doors the sky gave off a weak gray light. The man's graying hair whipped around from a chill wind.

In silence, I vibrated ahead of her to greet, with a handshake, the disheveled Coeus. With a ready and full smile, he shook my hand. Up close I saw, his eyes droop tiredly, stubble covered his cheeks. He wore a green track suit with slippers like he couldn't decide if he was ready for bed or a jog.

Coeus greeted us both in a soft voice, "Welcome to my home."

He moved to greet Herazade but she hung back with a frown. Never losing his smile, he stopped himself and silently bowed to her.

Gwynn walked out of the door and stood by him, wearing her chrysalis. Acknowledging each of us with a curt bow, she hung back behind her master. Her left hand open, palm up. A yellow spherical crystal levitated. Eight tiny spheres of differing sizes and shapes zipped around the large central crystal. I looked around expectantly but no one else appeared.

To fill the awkward silence Coeus started to speak, "Let us retire inside to warm up…"

Interrupting him, Herazade said, "Where is Rhea?"

"She should land in a few minutes."

"I want to talk to her."

Coeus frowned as he turned to Gwynn. "Please stay and direct Rhea to join us in the medieval room." Before he finished Herazade walked off toward the door out. He hurried after.

As the two older adults retreated, Herazade said, "You look terrible Coeus. Why aren't you wearing an illusion?"

The older man struggled to keep up with her fast pace. "Because I'll never look as appealing as you."

She scoffed at his compliment, "Don't start. I'm still angry with you." They passed out of sight and hearing into the subterranean basement door into an old white-washed plaster wall.

"Hi." I said at Gwynn as she studied me with questioning eyes a sudden deep vertical crease formed between the bridge of her nose and forehead.

The long fingers of her right hand grabbed me by the shoulder, and dug in hard like raptor talons capturing prey. Bluntly she said, "I was sorry to hear Aldous died."

"Not as sorry as he." I forced a laugh. Her whole face formed a disgusted frown. I said quickly, "Too soon? Sorry, I use humor to defuse emotionally tense situations."

She half-smiled at that. "I use bluntness. Why didn't you have a funeral?"

"He hated them and was very clear about it. Herazade and I aren't big fans either. He just wanted to be cremated and his ashes thrown around our lemon trees."

"Do you want to talk about it?" She asked quietly.

I shrugged. "It helps."

"Was it bad, before he...?"

"Kicked the bucket. Sloughed off his mortal coil. Etc. Ya. I visited him every night and we'd talk about anything, everything. It was mundane and profound at the same time. He kept joking about it. Which was weird. When it got ugly, he … turned himself off. I cried like a baby. Pretty pathetic, right?"

A cold sadness enveloped Gwynn. Her spiderish fingers dug in my shoulder harder. I winced but didn't say a thing until she seemed to come out of it and let go on her own. She quietly said, "Hardly. It was the same way when I lost my mother."

"How did she die?"

Gwynn grimaced. "Technomages don't get sick. Our organelles prevent it. Usually. She got unlucky."

"How?"

"Got involved with a group on the human side during the Earth-Minbari War. Even though the Circle ordered everyone to be neutral. Weaved up a complicated scheme that she had to totally undo when the Minbari surrendered. In the process, over-exposed to radiation, sneaking in and out the exhaust ports of their ships. She lived for years with the cancers. And when her tech failed to fix her. Coeus' kept it under control. That worked until it invaded her tech. Then, even Ing-Radi couldn't do anything. The worst part- it was all for nothing."

She went quiet. Awkwardly, we both stood listening to wind blow.

"Let's talk about something else," I suggested.

Gwynn eagerly nodded and said, "You look disappointed. I think I know why."

I laughed and said, "And you look like a kid who only got socks for Christmas."

Her lip twitched up. "You would be to if your Master and the next best thing ditched you without explanation before your initiation."

"Actually I kinda know how that feels. Herazade been trying to get me interested in history. We were gonna tour sites on Earth. Then boom, a detour. And I wasn't invited along."

Eagerly Gwynn asks, "Do you know what happened?"

"No, she locked me in her ship. I hacked her ship's nav system and found I was on the plains near New Vegas."

"Mars? Interesting. We'll have to get it out of Rhea. Speaking of her, she mentioned you've been talking to her constantly. Asking for recommendations, offering unsolicited jokes, debating. How can you stand that damn vid obsession of hers?"

Making a disbelieving grunt, I said, "You're kidding right?! How could you not like vids? They're total fun. Sure, the earliest stuff is embarrassingly simplistic but that's exactly why they're great. All the interactions are cliched, predictable. I can't believe how defensive she gets when I point out the obvious flaws. It's so easy to goad her. She is such a sucker for that old crap. She even insists I call them movies. I've gotten her to try some of the funny post-classical superhero stuff that I love. She said she liked them so there's hope for her."

The eight tiny spheres popped out of existence. The yellow crystal fell into her palm. Gwynn wiped the shock off her face and said, "Bloody hell. You talk too much and worse, you're not faking your interest are you?"

A frowned and put my hands on my hips. "Of course not." I snapped back at her.

"Well, I just lost 100 credits."

Gwynn looked past me in concentration. The yellow crystal levitated again and one after another eight tiny spheres popped into being and frantically spun up around the center. Almost lecturing me, Gwynn demanded, "Have you decided on a mage name for yourself yet? Most pick there's years before they enter chrysalis stage."

I relaxed, and shrugging said, "I was considering keeping mine. I'd hate to have to change the initial embroidered on all my underwear."

"That's unwise, you should take a different name."

"Federico is already my mage name. Hera gave me the name when we met."

Gwynn's face scrunched. "Why in the world would she give you a name?"

"I wouldn't tell her my name."

"What is your real name?"

A faint woosh caught my attention. I looked up in the sky but saw nothing.

With a grin, I said, "I'll tell you, if you tell me what you did on Proxima for the week you had my flyer."

Gwynn turned bright red. She snapped back, "That's none of your business."

"I guess we both have secrets we'd rather keep."

A strong wind blew on us from above. We both looked up just in time to see another technomage ship decloak. It hovered momentarily above the doors. Its right wing had a detailed image of a disembodied brain, with two lions sitting in profile on either side. The lions opened their mouths as if they are about to devour the brain. The ship suddenly lurched laterally, a wing clipped the hangar doors with a loud clang. It corrected itself, and slowly landed, snugly fit in the only remaining open space left in the dark buried underground courtyard. The ramp opened and Rhea walked out. She wore a heavy green wool coat. Her face hid inside the shadowy hood, as it swept the ground about her ankles. A dazzling array of brass buttons ran down the front length. The coat's belt cinched up tight about her waist. Her broad lapels, glowed with fleshy veins which moved slowly about like they swayed in the wind. The effect should have impressed but for the large wet stain in the middle of the coat.

As she approached I sucked in the air deeply. The strong scent of lavender wrapped around me.

Throwing back her hood, exposed her long loose, wet, black hair that funnelled forward by her coat's too high collar. She halted before me looking red faced as if she had sprinted. She had to look up at me.

With a confused frown, she said. "Why does the hanger smell like vanilla?"

A long perfect finger of Gwynn's pointed in my direction. "El Matador Magnifico over here has discovered cologne." Gwynn directed mocking laughter in my direction.

Rhea locked an unblinking stare on me. Her eyes roamed over every part of me. "Stop it Gwynn. It suits you Fed, but it's distracting and making me hungry."

"That's the whole idea," I joked nervously.

Trialing into chuckles, Gwynn asked, "What about you? Did you forget you were dressed when you stepped in the shower, again?"

"That only happened once. One data point is not a pattern. This," She waved at her wet spot, "I spilled tea on myself when I saw this-" Her hand waved up and down my body, accusingly, "Evolution. Looks like my clothes will never be safe when we meet Fed." We smiled at each other not breathing until Gwynn loudly cleared her throat.

"The adults want to see you."

"Where are they?"

"Medieval room."

Rhea huh-ed to that. Without visible effort her coat unbuttoned itself. It fluttered open, revealing dozens of small white pockets as if the inside was lined by an insane tailor who only liked to make pockets. She removed a thick obsidian colored bracelet densely covered with pulsing veins from one of the white pockets and twisted it onto her left wrist. Her coat whisked off, and landed on Gwynn's waiting arm. "Dry this for me, please."

Rhea petted her coat like one would a favored pet. Without another word she strode away toward the open door. Before the door, she abruptly stopped and walked back to stand in front of me.

"I heard about Aldous. I'm sorry. How about after the grown ups are done with me, we can sit together with some of the good stuff you sent me. You can tell me stories about him or not, whatever you want."

Eagerly I shook my head yes. "I'd love that."

Leaning in, she pulled me down to her, and hugged me tightly. I gasped in surprise and tried to encircle her with my arms but she maneuvered easily out of my grasp and went on her way again.

I looked at Gwynn but she looked in the exact opposite direction and muttered. "This can't be good." She followed everyone into the house.

I remained alone in the courtyard when snowflakes began to fall through the still open doors. "Ooh." I said and tried to catch them with my tongue.

EOF

/7/

- 19.11.2255

I pointed a chef's knife at Gwynn. She stood still across an old white marble counter from me in a huge blue and white kitchen. The room glowed from warm overhead lights to spite the gray clouds outside the windows. Mysterious brews bubbled over blue-flame burners in bright red iron pots between us.

"I like you Gwynn," I said.

Casually, she eyed my knife tip leveled at her chest. "Does that mean you'll kill me last?"

"Oh sorry." I lowered the knife and went to work peeling a pear.

"I better leave your slicing range. You look like you know how to use that thing." She sat on an old wooden chair at a large slate table not far from the counter.

"Ya didn't have a choice there. Aldous used to make me chop all his lemons when he made his Limoncello."

"You've known true suffering Fed." A mocking smirk lit up her face.

I waved my knife in her general direction. "Hey, it resembled hard work. You know what you are Gwynn?"

She brightened at that. "Yes I know. But I'm curious enough to ask what you think I am, oh wise one."

"Besides wonderfully sarcastic. An onion."

She blinked in surprise. "I have been called many things, most unrepeatable, but never an onion."

"If someone cuts you, it will most likely end with them crying."

Delighted, she burst into hearty laughter. Then quickly serious, she said, "Enough useless banter. I've been thinking about how to get what happened out of Rhea."

"I'm really curious to but we should probably just leave it alone." I looked down to start rapidly slicing a skinned pear half to thin slivers.

"Perfect. You'll be the good cop and I'll be the bad cop. I already have some juicy evidence I can club her with." She pulled out a folded piece of paper to show me but stopped when Herazade and Rhea walked into the kitchen chatting softly. Soon they were followed by Coeus.

Walking to stand opposite of me, Herazade inspected the bounty of simmering pots. Coeus and Rhea sat with Gwynn at the table.

Coeus leaned in close to whisper to Gwynn who almost immediately shouted, "You're leaving again! I'm about to be initiated and I still can't cast a fireball! I nominate you as the worst master in the Order." Gwynn thumped the table with both fists.

"Gwynn!" snapped Rhea.

With a calming gesture at both, Coeus placed a hand spanning Gwynn's clenched fists and spoke with a voice so quiet I had to strain to listen, "Yet your mother chose me to look after you. Even the Circle agreed. And I believe you understand why." He patted her fists gently and withdrew his hand, "What is my one rule Gwynn?"

The three at the table said in unison, "We are each other's keepers."

Reclining, Ceous kept speaking alone, "That responsibility takes me away from this house on occasion. Rhea will remain to help. But in truth you're already a better technomage than either of us. In this I can take no pride since it was all Mirenda's doing. And soon, your mother's last request that you become a sister of the Order will be granted. Try not to worry. Everything will be fine." Gwynn's posture deflated and silently screamed that she did not believe him. In awkward silence we watched her eyes sparkle as an embarrassed frown turned her lips downward.

The silence broke when Herazade loudly asked me, "How were the hookers Fed?"

My knife missed the fruit, barely missed my thumb before it chipped wood off the edge of the cutting board.

"What?" I said.

The previous drama forgotten, all turned on me. My face burned. Snickers rose up from the table group before they moved on to speak quietly amongst themselves.

A smirking Herazade leaned in to whisper, "The right moment, with the right audience. That's how you make that joke funny."

I said through gritted teeth, "I'm getting you back for that one," then louder I said to the room, "There were no hookers involved in my entertainment, at least not today."

Her grin grew larger, daring escalation. The table ignored us as they continued their own private conversation.

She asked, "What do you think of Earth?"

"I love it."

"How did you keep busy?"

"The markets here are amazing."

"You went shopping all day?" Unsatisfied, she motioned for more with one hand as the other sought a bowl.

"I did what you suggested. Went to that huge old museum. Sat around in several different cafes people watching."

"And what did you discover?"

My smile got huge. "Old stuff is almost as fun as the worst episode of Rebo and Zooty. The women around here are too fashionable, too tall. And Cafe Moliere was the only place where they put the proper amount of cinnamon in a man's cafe miel."

"I see you made the most vital discoveries. Did you speak with these too everything women?" Herazade stole a pear sliver and popped it into her mouth.

"Um… not unless you count the old woman at the market who sold me beef and gave me this recipe. She was too hot, for 70." I lifted the lid of a largest pot.

Herazade grabbed a spoon and sampled the darkest and meatiest part of the simmering pot. After satisfied hum, she said, "Clearly a true master."

"You going away?" I asked. She nodded as she dished herself a giant bowl of the stew. "When will I see you?" I asked.

"Worst case I'll meet you en route to the convocation. Until then, you are an adult. Do as you wish obviously but know this- I've asked Rhea to keep an eye on you."

Herazade indicated at the table. I looked toward the table but none of them glanced our way.

She kept speaking at me, "Things will be different this convocation. I am running for the open Circle seat, and so will be very busy with building support, debates, and campaigning. It should not affect you much, but you will be on your own more. I expect you to not draw the wrong attention to yourself. If the rest of the Order learned about your unfortunate hobby, it might cost me the election. Many would say if I can not control my own apprentice how could I possibly be an effective leader. Do you understand?"

I shrugged. "Sure, whatever." I felt my skin tingle as all the hairs on my body pointed in one direction. I glanced back at my master. Tiny blue lightning arced from her arm to one of the simmering pots.

With an icy stare, she said, "Wrong answer." My body stiffened for a moment. When I regained control, my leg bounced nervously against the cabinet that I stood behind.

A lecturing finger waved at me as she scolded, "No more stealing flyers Fed." After the blunt statement I glanced over at the table to find everyone staring at me.

Herazade snapped her fingers and pulled my attention back to her, "They've done worse and will not judge you. I know it was difficult watching Aldous slowly deteriorate. Although he would be very amused by your current vagaries, I am not. The time for mourning is done. Do not take further advantage of my patience. This can only end one way, with me having to cast you away for disobedience. You will stop acting out."

I stared at her. In response she indicated moving along with a hand and whispered, "This is where you wholeheartedly agree to repent so I can forget this ever happened."

With a hand over my heart as if taking an oath, I said loudly, "Five by five. I'll be a total angel. I swear I won't screw anything up for you."

"Good. If you do cost me the election you will get to see me very angry for the first time."

We both smiled. "Now I have real motivation. Where are you going?"

A displeased look descended upon her and instead of answering a data-crystal floated before me. "This contains the last of the linear algebra lessons and memory augmentation exercises. I will test you when next we meet. Otherwise enjoy yourself. But not too much." A warning finger chided me. With a bowl of stew in hand, she left by a swinging door next to me, with Coeus followed her out.

When I heard a raised voice, I put my knife down, and went to the wall by the door they had left through. Acting like I was looking at the open shelf of pans, with my foot, I propped the swinging door open slightly and listened.

"...I will not let it go. She is unperturbed by it, why would you be upset?" Coeus said, agitated.

"You crushed her potential and for what? To create a retread of the past."

"This is the tradition in my line."

"Lovely. Another reason for me to loathe tradition. I'm allowed to be upset by your playing God. Now I believe Kell summoned you. And I must do as he ordered. It's going to take me forever to dismantle Walkyra's lab. Keep her out of my hair."

"I'll keep her under control. Roland was more scarred by it. Wait, Hera. Don't leave like..."

I stopped being able to hear them.

"Woah," I said to myself as I picked a tart pan and took it back.

At the other end of the kitchen, the women did not react to the quiet argument I overheard. At the slate table, red faced, like she just ran a race, Rhea leant forward on her elbows rubbing the bridge of her nose.

I slipped back to the counter. Carefully I unrolled a rough circle of rolled out dough.

"You don't look well. Should I get Coeus?" asked Gwynn.

"He's already examined me. Everything's fine."

I spread a thick almond paste on top of the dough.

Gwynn badgered Rhea, "You should tell me what happened. I'll figure it out you know."

I placed the pear slices in a circular fan pattern on top of the dough.

Neither women said a thing. They stared at each other, each trying to will the other to give in.

The slice arrangement done, I folded up the dough edges and pinched them together leaving the center of pears exposed. I tucked it into the oven under the counter. Leaning on the counter, I gave my full attention to the renewed sparring.

"This came for you an hour ago." Gwynn neatly spread a sheet of paper in front of Rhea, "It's from Roland. I read it accidentally since he sent it unencrypted. Still an idiot I see. Why didn't he message you directly?"

Rhea looked down at the note but didn't move to take it. She sighed. "He must think I'm ignoring him. But I've just silenced my tech notifications," she murmured.

"Why would you do that?" asked Gwynn. Rhea didn't answer.

Gwynn picked up the paper and read aloud.

I'm sorry I scared you. Kisses and hugs for Mom.

R.

Sharply Gwynn judged, "Creepy. Also, odd that he said 'for Mom' instead of 'from Mom'." When Rhea said nothing in response, Gwynn went on, "I know you were on Mars. Did his mother finally lose her mind?"

"I'm going to my study." Rhea stood, took two steps, and pitched forward face first. I rushed over and turned her over. By my side Gwynn, knelt, checked her pulse.

Rhea's eyes snapped open. "I was hoping that wouldn't happen."

She tried to sit up but Gwynn held her down with one hand as the other measured her pulse. Calm and clinical, Gwynn said, "Your pulse is slow. Are you ill or on something?"

"I'm fine. My blood pressure just dropped too low."

"Is your tech malfunctioning?"

"No. My endocrine system is readjusting."

Gwynn's voice escalated, "Tell me you didn't grow that extra gland you told me about."

This time she pushed Gwynn away and sat up. "Yes I did. And it worked perfectly... until it didn't and destabilized all my intravascular fluids."

"Then we've got to cut it out of you."

Rhea pulled aside the collar of her loose white blouse to reveal a freshly healed pink line of an incision below her collarbone. "Already did. Like I said, everything's fine or rather will be. Just help me to my room."

I picked her up in my arms. "Show me where to go."

Scowling, Gwynn motioned for me to follow her.

"Put me down Fed, I can walk."

I smiled at her. "And miss the chance to show off my new incredible physique with its bulging muscles. No way."

Gwynn grunted in disgust and made sure I saw her roll her eyes.

Rhea grasped the back of my neck. "Put me down."

Without thinking, I immediately dropped her at the foot of a steep wooden staircase. She landed with a thump.

Rhea climbed to her feet rubbing her hip, "Next time I'll have to remember to add gently."

Gwynn ordered me, "Fed, catch her when she passes out again."

The old narrow spiralling stairs without handrails creaked under the burden of three. We walked up slowly, me last, hands trailing along the walls. With the steep incline, I had to lean forward to not tip backwards.

"So tell me about this gland. It sounds like good times," I said while happily watching the women's hips and asses sway before me.

"She tried to turn herself into a walking drug factory," Gwynn said down the stairs at me.

"Stop slandering me Gwynn." Rhea kept speaking to spite Gwynn's disapproving scoff, "I created a new gland under conscious control that could make a wide array of useful compounds."

"Why?" I asked.

"Traditionally, technomage healing spells are solely based on organelle manipulation by a focusing crystal. I think that needs to evolve. For example if a patient hemorrhaged from too many wounds, they would die regardless of how many organelles I moved around in them. But add coagulants and you have more time, and a potentially better outcome. So, I created a programmable gland by hybridizing my stem cells with cells from my old chrysalis."

"Okay, that kinda sounded like English. I'm going to pretend I understood. What went wrong?" I asked.

She giggled as she started up again, "Unfortunately, the feedback control mechanism I designed didn't work well enough. It was like my tech just didn't want to control it." She sighed and stopped as we reached the turning top of the stairs.

Rhea finished, "Don't tell anyone please, it was an unsanctioned use of my old chrysalis. I might get in trouble with the Circle."

"Of course we won't say anything," Gwynn said.

I said, "Ya! I finally have something to blackmail you with."

Next to me Rhea laughed softly then passed out again, tumbling backwards. I caught her, barely keeping both of us from falling down the stairs. Once again I picked her up in my arms.

Gwynn shook her head disapprovingly at the madness happening around her. "Her room is this way."

Down a brightly lit hall covered with paintings of sunny landscapes, Gwynn led me to an open door into a bright bedroom. The left wall- one continuous painting made of dots of paint. The dots layered on as if, what I saw just the latest iteration. A background of blacks and grays. The middle was dominated by a giant sphere made up of mostly bright whites, with patches of blues, greens. Around the sphere a white ring. Another much smaller sphere connected to the larger by a thin black line up and to the right.

On the far wall the floor to ceiling window overlooked the slate roof of old townhouses, past which a canal funnelled a dark fast moving river. I could make out a huge old cathedral not far on the other side.

A gas fireplace with a wooden mantel painted with vines with tiny skulls instead of flowers centered the right wall. Built-in bookshelves surrounded the mantel. A few books, large anatomy tomes, languished between many jars of preserved specimens. A few stood out- a jar with a pair of kidneys, a dissected left hand with a missing thumb. Giant insects pinned and framed guarded all from the edges. And on the lower most shelf a long series of skulls, most not human.

To get to the old wooden bed in the center of the room, I kicked a couple small boxes out of my way. Gwynn disappeared through a door into an adjacent room as I sat on the bed beside Rhea.

Rhea popped awake again. "Not again. I'm starting to get annoyed."

"I'm the one who should be annoyed. You'll miss my pear tart at its best- warm, fresh out of the oven."

"You remembered that was my favorite?"

"I remember everything about you." I took the tips of her fingers in my hand. When she did not pull away, I ran my thumb back and forth along her knuckles.

Gwynn walked back in with a large black case. On the bed, she snapped it open, revealing a large first aid kit with scanners. Gwynn tapped me on the shoulder. "Your constant flirting is not going to fix a thing. Out."

I gave her hand a squeeze and left to wander. Down the hallway, I turned a corner into a portrait gallery lit from above with the weak gray light of the a setting sun. Four larger than life self-portraits dominated one side. Each figure stood in exactly the same pose with their arms crossed in front of them. An identical irreverent smirk graced all their youthful faces, while the same eyes stared challengingly downward. I read the names Hyperion, Themis, Coeus, and finally Rhea.

I stared at her portrait for a long while until a voice startled me. Gwynn appeared at my shoulder. "Unnerving aren't they? I hate walking down this hall."

"This one's pretty nice." I pointed at Rhea's picture. "So what did you do?" I asked.

Gwynn tilted her head in confusion. I said, "Herazade said, you wouldn't judge me cause you did worse."

Gwynn hesitated. I prodded her with a, "Come on."

"She saw me at my worst. After my mother died, I punched anyone who tried to pull me away from her body. Including Coeus, twice. The third time he managed to coerce me to sleep before I could land a blow. And I might have said," she sighed, "I wasn't particularly nice with my words either. I am fortunate my mother planned ahead and made Coeus promise to take me. No one else would have tolerated the way I was after she died."

"Wow. That story is perfectly you. You should tell it to everyone," I said.

A small laugh erupted out of her before Gwynn vehemently shook her head no. "There are many better stories," she pointed to the first painting at the other end of the gallery, "Hyperion was the third human technomage. Do you know how he became one?"

"I'm not a big fan of the Order histories, or reading in general."

She said, "Why am I not surprised? Not that I blame you. The official stories are all snoozes. Hyperion's official tale is he had multiple doctorates, which he used to brilliantly run his billion dollar pharmaceutical corporation before he bravely set forth to explore the galaxy after the Centauri showed up to establish trade relations with humanity.

That's mostly lies. The real story- he was a middle-aged, unemployed pothead living on the government dole. He supplemented his income with stealing and selling drugs. He wanted to go to Centauri Prime. So he stole a bunch of very high quality chocolate. To get to Centauri Prime, he traded ... let's just say sexual favors. He hoped to barter the chocolate for new drugs to sell back home. Once there, he hit it off with a famous Centauri lush turning him into a huge chocoholic. The lush also happened to be a technomage."

I laughed, "Wow that's manic. Maybe I should read more history. How do you know this? Did Coeus tell you?"

Gwynn laughed at me. "No, my mother got it out of him somehow. She liked to collect stories about the Order. She was working on something she called The True History of the Order of Wierden, before she got sick."

"Can I read it?."

Gwynn nodded at me approvingly. "It's not done, just an outline, notes."

"You're going to finish writing it aren't you?" I said to her.

She looked at me with her mouth stuck open. "How did … Yes. But I don't dare show it off. It would upset too many of our preconceived notions."

"Publish it when you're too old to care about what others think of it," I offered.

Gwynn's eyes narrowed on me. "You're far more shrewd than you let on Fed."

Leaning closer, I whispered to her, "Don't let that get around."

"Your secrets are safe with me. Let Rhea sleep. I've confirmed everything she said. She'll be fine… probably. I'm leaving for a while."

"Should I bother to ask where you're going?"

Gwynn ignored my question. "When you talk to her, try and get out of her what happened on Mars."

EOF

Galen did not believe in certainty. The universe had no purpose- divine or otherwise. Life was chaotic and what you made of it. Everything was random and most often cruel. And yet. Mars. Again. It sure felt as if the universe pulled on him, like a blackhole tugging all to its center.

Now even in this sphere of Fed's memories from years ago. It should not be related in any way. Yet, Mars reached out to him with more. Was it related? Unlikely. Yet he should pay attention, perhaps it would help.

He dove forward, hoping to learn what Mars had to offer back then.

/8/

- 19.11.2255

I sat at the slate table studying from portable tablet. A sequence, a dozen symbols flashed. Afterward a rotating pick screen of options presented itself. I tapped the sequence quickly. It flashed correct.

The noise of a door swinging open, stopped me. Without a word, Rhea rushed past me to the freezer, yanked it open and poured ice out of tray into a kitchen towel. She cuddled the towel to her cheeks that were flushed bright red like a ripe berry.

"Shouldn't you be able to make ice out of thin air," I asked.

With a yelp, she juggled the ice, nearly dropping it. "Were you there the whole time?"

I nodded yes. She rocked the wrapped ice from one side of her face to the other.

With an embarrassed smile, she said, "Most technomages can. I can't. Really I can't do justice to any offensive spell. Neither can my father. That's why he hasn't taught Gwynn how to cast a fireball. He can't."

Sitting up straight in surprise, I said, "Oh."

No more words flowed. I stared at her, all of her, as she walked over to a large pantry. Her hair half wild like after getting up from a nap. A purple t-shirt so tight I could make out the details of her nipples. Pants the color of fresh leaf shoots were the opposite of the top. Too loose to make out anything beyond she had two legs. My eyes drifted up between her breasts and her face. I bit my lower lip, I settled on her chest.

From the pantry she pulled out a tall thin bottle of fluorescent yellow liquid and two small drinking glasses. The glassware clinked as it floated on an invisible tray to the table and soon was joined by her. Hugging her ice, her arms covered her chest as she dropped into a chair closest to me. My attention went to her face. A thin layer of sweat, like she had been exercising, made her face glow a bit from the single bulb above the table.

Unscrewing the top, she half filled each glass. Saluting the sky with her glass, she said, "To Aldous and the Brave New World."

I added, "To father figures that don't suck." We clinked glasses and I downed the bright yellow liquor in one shot. She sipped hers.

I grabbed the bottle and ran my thumb over the warm glowing blue lettering of the label. It read in large script, A Strange Brew, then under it in much smaller script, Libations For Those Building The Brave New World.

"You won our bet Fed. You didn't have to send me a case of your Limoncello."

"Why wouldn't I? You told me you liked it."

"Would you like to talk about him?" She poured a bit more in my glass. I didn't touch it.

I said, "I'd rather talk about you. You're looking worse, redder. Why?"

"Fat cells- the sponges of the body. Mine are saturated with metabolically active hormones. It will take about a month to filter it all out completely."

"You're going to be passing out for weeks?"

She laughed. "No. Fortunately, the effects taper off logarithmically which is annoying in its own right. First day was the worst- I ovulated like 6 times, and now hot flashes. That's what woke me up. What are you still doing up? It's 2 am."

"I drank 4 espressos this afternoon. Sleep is optional tonight and the kitchen has always been my favorite haunt."

She sipped her drink, eyeing me over the brim of her glass. "So hookers and flyer jacking. Your life has taken a turn toward the interesting." As I didn't answer, she balanced her ice towel on the back of her neck, and playfully prodded me with a finger.

Flushing like her, I said, "Ya, the hookers… apparently Hera and I have a new running joke. I'm going to have to figure out a way to get back at her for that one. And the flyer thing, I'm still trying to figure out exactly why I did it. Hera thinks it's my coping mechanism but I don't knowt-" I stopped speaking unsure what to say. As we stared at each other sadly, Rhea took my hand and held it.

I said, "Aldous and I used to spend every Sunday together. He called it, our boys day out. Usually in the morning he'd drag me up to his place of power, his orchard, which is Hera's now I guess. I'd pull weeds, chop lemons, or whatever annoying shit work he decided I got to do, while he'd kicked back drinking. It sucked except he told the best stories- usually about how he messed something up badly or what Hera was like as a kid. Then we'd hit a town looking for trouble. The last thing he taught me before we stopped going out, was how to break into any flyer. Since then, every time I stole one, it felt like I was honoring his memory."

Her eyebrows rose at that.

I immediately said, "I know, I know, I'll be the first to agree it sounds totally stupid. Last time, I got careless. Got arrested. Which triggered the daemon Herazade had watching me. Luckily I got out of it before she had to get involved. The policewoman needed the extra credits and loved hearing about her beautiful eyes. I didn't even need to lie, she had gorgeous eyes, almost as magnificent as yours."

I stared into her green eyes, and noticed the shifting green, specks of yellow and brown, a ring of still black around the very edge holding it all together.

Releasing my hand, Rhea pulled back, shaking her head no. "Is this the way it's going to be with us? You'll find I'm immune to flattery."

"That's fine. I'm bound to stumble across something that clicks eventually. So what did you do?"

Not understanding, she asked, "What?"

"Hera said you won't judge me because you've done worse."

A huge smile split her face. "She might've meant... I stole alien cadavers."

"Eeew. Why?"

"I audited a comparative alien anatomy class just after I got my chrysalis. It was all lectures and CG dissection simulations, which are close to useless. You can not replace the study of the real thing with simulations. My father mentioned there are usually several unclaimed alien bodies in stasis in Geneva which eventually just wind up being cremated. With help, I acquired them."

"Coeus?"

"Roland helped me until his mother found out and grounded him. He called them our corpse dates."

She stopped speaking. I prodded. "Did you get caught?"

She nodded yes. "Of course. I think Walkyra ratted me out to Kell. Our intimidating leader showed up out of the blue. Reprimanded Coeus. I got a long lecture. He said, 'The knowledge gained was not worth the debasement.'" A strand of hair fell on her face. She blew it away from her face with a hard dismissive breath. "I think he's wrong. They said the same to the first true surgeon's on Earth... but he scared the crap out of me. I know enough when to keep my mouth shut and obey."

I winked at her. "Call me if there's a next time. I love doing irreverent things for science and I usually don't get caught."

She gave me an appreciative smile. "I would rather you help me figure out what is going with Gwynn. Have you seen her?"

"She left after we put you to bed." Rhea made a sour face. "Maybe she's seeing someone?" I suggested.

"She's been so stoned-faced I really can't be sure. I should plant a microprobe on her but I would rather get it out of her the old fashioned way."

"Nagging and peer-pressure."

"Exactly."

"I think best when I'm eating and drinking. Want some stew?" I asked.

"Please." She looked away from me as I busied myself filling a couple of waiting bowls. "It was a shock seeing you today. I should have thought to make you send me a pic of yourself."

I went perfectly still and asked, "Do you like what you see?"

With a surprised jerk of her head, she locked eyes with me. I held my breath waiting for her to answer. Not looking away, she said, "I'm not sure about the beard."

I flashed her a smile, as I finished dishing stew. "That's non-negotiable. I'd have to shave twice a day to keep my face stubble free, which is about twice as much effort as I'm willing to put into it."

With two brimming bowls of stew, I also brought the entire tart with two forks stuck into it.

Rhea snickered softly. She said, "It must be difficult being so manly. How do you manage?"

Bowing to her, I said, "My incredible moral fortitude, obviously." We both laughed as I sat next to her.

"And you're still going by Federico?"

"Yes."

She shook a finger at me. "You shouldn't use your real name. Names have a …"

I interrupted her, "Power all their own. Ya, heard that lecture. It's not. My real name is lost in the void somewhere."

"That's careless of you. Come now, you know my real name. I want to know yours."

On the slate table top, I absentmindedly traced letters, l, o, u, i, s, e.

"Everyone has a real name." she said.

I shrugged. "I know it's weird but I don't remember mine. I didn't grow up with parents. My only memory of my bio-mom is her selling me to a pig named Don Arturo. He was smugglers guild. Stims mostly. He called me a lot of different things over the years. His favorite was maricon, which means ..." I abruptly stopped and just stared at her arm on mine.

Her squeeze of my arm made me look up. She said, "I know what it means."

"Ya, a real charmer." I mumbled and looked out the black window. A hand on my thigh brought my attention to her.

"How did you meet Hera?"

I smiled looking at her hand on my leg. "I um… stumbled into her, literally, knocked her into this huge pile of rusty old junk." A short snort punctuated my words. "We argued about who's fault it was. She dubbed me Federico when I wouldn't tell her my name. Lucky for me I make a way better second impression. She looked for my birth certificate, but unregistered birth," I tapped my chest, "She never found anything." I shrugged at the end of my story.

Thoughtfully Rhea offered, "Sounds like you have a good legal case against the universe for negligence. Don't worry one day it will wake up and remember to tell you your real name."

"I ought to sue the universe's pants off. But I think, I'd settle with it, if I got your pants off."

Her eyes went wide, her first spoon full of food stopped halfway to her mouth. "Well done. We used to play this game as teenagers called, most inappropriate phrase. I think you would have excelled at it." She ate the spoonful, making an appreciative yum sound.

Grimacing, I said, "Rhea… Instead of deliberately deflecting me at every turn, tell me if I have a chance with you. Be honest."

"Honesty? Not very technomagey." Considering, she looked at the table.

"In this, honesty is the best policy."

She refused to look at me, and instead wistfully put her spoon down in the stew. She rolled over her right hand. "On the first hand, while 5 years is not technically a big age difference, power wise, we're in very different places." She rolled over her other hand. "On the second hand, the Order's rules strictly forbid interfering with an apprentice, especially sexually. If the Circle found out I'd be lucky if they just reprimanded me." She flipped her right hand over. "Then on the third hand, when Herazade asked me to take care of you I doubt she meant to sleep with you," She turned over her left hand. She blew out the big breath. "On the fourth hand, I would love to see how you look laying naked in my bed…"

I interrupted her, "Go with the fourth hand."

Her attention snapped to me. She didn't move as I took hold of her knees. Nor when my hands inched up her thighs. Slowly, I leaned in, and kissed her. Then, all became a blur of movement. Her arms wound around my head, and she pulled me tight. The kiss open-mouthed, tongues sparring. My roving hands grabbed her hips. I picked her up, placed her on the table and tugged her shirt upwards.

"Stop," she said.

I froze, "What? I thought-"

Stroking my biceps, she said, "You thought right. And while being ravished by the Pirate Lord is a favorite fantasy of mine. I'm not feeling together enough for that tonight."

I leaned my forehead against hers and said, "What do you want to do?"

"To go to bed." She grabbed her ice towel.

"Oh, okay." I pouted. As I backed away, I shifted the bulge in my pants.

With a hop off the table, she moved to the door, but stopped to say to me. "Coming?"

"Ya, I feel like I'm about to..." A giggle from her got my attention. "Huh?" I said.

She motioned for me to follow her.

"Oh!" I said, brightening.

"Bring the food." She said, with a small enigmatic smile. I whooped, grabbed the stew bowls with the whole tart balanced on top.

...

With a laugh, Galen broke the memory stream. Nothing useful was likely to come from there either. That was terrible. Puns were the lowest form of humor. He apologized to himself and moved on without finishing that one.

/9/

- 20.11.2255

The thundering heavy rain against the skylight woke me. Scent of lavender. Under soft white sheets, in bed, naked. I touched the empty spot beside me and sat up to find Rhea across the room. She wore only a top large white single buttoned dress shirt covered in paint stains. With a palette in her left hand and brush in the right, she rapidly applied gray spots to an outer white ring of her wall painting. In the morning light, the painting looked like a white-blue-green planet that decided to bud its own tiny gray moon.

Without turning around to me, she called over, "What do you think?"

"Beautiful," I said, "The painting is nice to." A small dismissive snort was her only answer. "What is it?" I asked.

Standing absolutely still, she said, "I keep dreaming about this. I get such strong impressions and emotions with it. I don't understand it but this helps." She mimicked brush strokes to indicate her painting.

I nodded. "I feel the same when I eat candy for dinner."

She turned to me with an lopsided smile. "Do you take anything seriously?"

"I try not to." She flung her paintbrush at me. I ducked as it hit the old gray wooden bed frame with a splat. I said back, "The universe is bad enough. If I don't laugh at it, I'd spend all my time crying."

All sudden approval, she smiled. "Good point." Her paint palette landed on a small paint stained table covered with brushes of various sizes and small tubes of paint.

I said, "I can do serious. Your painting looks like a planet with a weird moon connected by some sort of tether thingie."

"That occurred to me. But it matches no catalogued planet. So," She shrugged, "I paint to figure out what it is."

Leaning with my elbow on her pillow, I asked, "Would you call what we did last night sex?"

"No." She rubbed her hand on her shirt creating another stain in one of the only white areas.

"I didn't think so. What umm … did you do to me?"

With a sideways look, she wiggled her fingers at me. Energetic glitter floated up from her one fingertip and down into its neighbor in an arc. "First I mapped your brain's neural circuitry. And stimulated various synaptic pathways that control your sexual responses."

I whistled quietly. "Wow. That's what I call perfect technomage pillow talk."

Turning fully to me, she folded her arms across her chest making her look too much like a pantless version of her haughty self-portrait. She said, "In higher order animals, the brain is the real sex organ. And you didn't complain last night. At least not until the third time." She raised an eyebrow at me.

I laughed out loud. "That's because you wouldn't let me finish."

She laughed wickedly. Encouraged, she said, "If you wish to press charges, technically I'd call it third degree sexual battery. Oh and I exposed myself to you, so you could add that to the list of charges." She ended with a dark chuckle.

"I love how you overthink everything. Um… why didn't you let me... return the favor?"

"You're …" she paused.

I finished her sentence, "Pent up. Ya. Sorry, it's just, I've never, I'm a ..."

She finished my sentence, "A virgin. Yes I know."

I frowned. "That obvious?"

She answered. "Your master told me."

I bolted upright. "What?! Why would she tell you?"

She frankly said, "After she asked me to keep an eye on you, I questioned her about the things I've noticed in you." She turned serious and slowly walked towards me.

I looked away, clenching my jaw. "What things?"

Like a doctor reading a chart in monotone, she recited, "My suspicions. You're- hyperactive, unfocused, unless it relates to an obsession and then you become hyper focused. Clingy desperation for approval. Attention seeking with humor. A clear oral fixation. I guessed you have at least ADHD, low self-esteem, an abandonment complex due to neglect as a child. And from what you added last night, I suspect you were abused as well. Your master mentioned you're inexperience and eagerness for... a date. "

I buried my face in my hands, and groaned, "I really wish you didn't know all that." I looked up to find her standing by me. Her clinical look pinned me down like the specimens on her shelf.

"Does it matter?" I asked. Heart pounding, my breathing changed to short shallow breaths.

"Everything matters. I prefer my sex is emotionally healthy, enjoyable for..." She kept speaking but I did not hear. My vision tunnelled, as my hearing reduced to the static sounds of rushing blood. Ignoring her, my eyes focused on the wall of shelved specimens in jars.

Her finger on my jaw forced my attention to her. My attention snapped back in place like a rubber band stretched thin then released suddenly. I heard her again, "And apparently you disassociate when emotionally stressed."

I pushed her hand away. "I get it. I'm too broken. If I were you, I wouldn't want to deal with me either." I stood up naked before her. When I tried to move past her going for my clothes. Her hands snaked to the back of my neck. Her finger tips dug in.

"Stop. Listen." My whole body stiffened and I listened. In a whisper I heard, "You're not too broken. Mostly, adorable. But for the sake of my sanity and your emotional well-being I have to make sure you'll end up better for being with me."

Her arm dropped away. My mind cleared. Most of my body relaxed except my crotch, which started to become excited on my behalf. We both looked down.

I said, "I don't know what better looks like. But I'm hoping this is it."

We both laughed together. She said, "Good start."

I hugged her, and her arms locked around my back. I said, "How ya feeling today?"

With an enigmatic smile, she said, "Recuperative sleep can do wonders. Today, I'm ..." Her eyebrows danced as she cupped my cheeks and kissed me lightly.

"You're looking much less like a raspberry." I trapped one of her hands against my cheek. "This isn't fair. You know my secrets and I hardly know any of yours."

Suddenly eager, she said, "Easily fixed. You want to see something you shouldn't."

I perked up. "Always."

She walked to her fireplace. One hand on an frayed anatomy tome, another out to me. I joined her.

"Should probably get dressed."

"Don't bother. I like you naked," she said to me. Then to the book, "We're off to see the wizard. The wonderful wizard of Oz." The words on the tome spine flashed once. A huge grin split my face as a part of the bookcase swung inward. Like a fleeing refugee she leapt through the door pulling my hand and body behind her. We careened down a spiraling stone stairs that glowed yellow. The bottom opened onto a large stone walled laboratory. Like a tunnel into a chemical factory, scattered about- marked barrels, endless meters of tubing, pipettes, beakers, and more. It went on and on. A wall of dripping fragility. The occasional side room for storage or a sealed lab led off to the right or left. At the far end was a pharmacy, with hundreds of small boxes and pills in little bins ready for dispensing.

The floor radiated warmth beneath my feet as I plodded unbothered by my nakedness. But none of that mattered because in the middle of the lab on a raised metal platform with various conduits attached to it, a Vorlon encounter suit intimidated the room.

"Is that what I think it is?" At a nearby workbench, I grabbed a portable microscope and went at the suit.

"Yes, I figured since you like computers and machines you'd find this interesting."

The microscope zoomed in trying to make out details. It revealed a world within a world, then more tiny worlds. "I can't believe how complex this is. It just keeps going. You're taking it apart?"

"Years ago my father decided to try to backwards engineer it. It's been next to impossible."

"Where did you get this thing?" She didn't answer. When I glanced at her, she looked away pink cheeked. "You don't want to tell me?"

She sighed, "My grandmother stole it from an old Zoroastrian temple in northern Iran."

"Stole it? That's ... I shouldn't judge considering but that's not very nice."

"It was being worshipped as a relic from God, which is ridiculous. Themis explained to them what they really had and she offered them a fortune for it. But being a religious artifact, it wasn't for sale."

"What sort of temple did you say it was?"

Rhea laughed. "Still not a fan of history, eh? Zoroastrianism, first monotheistic religion on Earth. The story they tell is that it fell to Earth near their village in the 13th century and that 6 demons of hell followed it. An angel climbed out of it, and fled pursued by the demons. The locals hid the suit in the hopes that the angel would come back, but it never did. This thing touched off my grandmother's lifelong obsession with Vorlons, and she passed it along to my father who passed it to me. We have other artifacts but this is the only one that is so intact."

"What happened to the Vorlon and the demons?"

"Who knows, but it means the Vorlons have been snooping around Earth for the last thousand years. God only knows what the demons were."

"Does the Circle know about this?"

"No, and if they suddenly find out, I'll know who to hunt down and torture mercilessly."

Her laugh made me stop my examination. I looked back over my shoulder to her as she leaned back against a workbench covered with beakers. Our eyes locked. Her inviting smile made me drop the tool.

She raised her hands from her sides. Dark veins erupted from her fingers and moved from her like black roots growing too fast. They thinned as they wrapped me in shadows. Instead of suffocating me, we were no longer in a lab but on an old wooden sailing ship. A sea breeze tickled my skin and smell the salty water spray hit with my next inhale. Her long black hair neatly tucked itself into a bonnet decorated with intertwined red and green ribbons. Instead of an old paint stained shirt, she wore white boots, gloves, and an lacey emerald travelling dress. About her open neck an emerald on a gold chain hung inviting everything to fall past it into her cleavage. Framed by ocean, she leaned back on a railing.

And I was no longer naked. A ruffled unbuttoned shirt settled over my torso, a red leather jacket weaved itself on top of it. Simple tan pants tucked into tall black boots. Out of the air, a tricorne hat with a white skull and crossbones landed on my head. A curved sword on a belt fluttered before me and bucked itself around my waist.

My mouth hung open.

She raised an eyebrow. "Well?"

"This is the best thing that has ever happened to me." I plucked my linen shirt in amazement.

From the parrot on my shoulder, I heard, "Squawk! Good answer." A green parrot winked at me when I stared at it.

"Definitely, the best." I blurted out. With one finger she beckoned me. Immediately, I strolled toward her and said, "So last night, you said something about a Pirate Lord and ravishing. You want me to play the part, now?" I pointed between us and around the ship.

The parrot on my shoulder agreed for her, "Squawk! All aboard!"

I hurried to her. Her hands grabbed for me as I lifted her onto the railing and nestled between her legs.

Under my shirt, her fingers tugged my chest hairs. She pulled me in as her words prompted me, "You will never take my virtue."

With a dismissive laugh, I played to her script. "I think your virtue got taken a long time ago. But my virtue, you get to take now." With my hands I ripped open her illusionary dress' neckline, to her delight. "I think I'll bury my treasure in you."

As I busied myself creating a trail of kisses down the middle of her chest, she laughed and moaned at the same time, "Oh you're good." A flash of breast.

...

Galen forcibly broke contact with the memory sphere. With a heavy sigh, he realized he let that go a bit too long.

It figured that he and Fed would be polar opposites in every conceivable way. Fed's first time- a parade of ludicrous bodice ripping illusions. While Galen's hesitant, pure, exposed souls.

He frowned at himself. To judge another's experience harshly was foolish. After all they were the two sides of the cliched coin of love. Pure innocence on one side. Vulgar tawdriness on the other. He had no experience with the other side with its easy, quick sex.

Slow intimacy, built layer by careful layer was all he knew, and only once. Love was mostly a mystery to him still. Sure he knew, and once used, the 14 words, the coercive spell that would force someone to fall madly in love. But the 14 words only worked if a small spark of love already existed. And the truth was he, really no one, knew what triggered that initial spark of love in the mind. That spark still smoldered in his soul for Isabelle. It refused to die.

For a moment he let himself slip back in time, to bask in the memory of Isabelle's dazzling smile after they had …No. He couldn't stand the agony of remembering her beside him so happy. Two brief days was all they had to really explore each other before the traitors, Tilar, Elizar, and his sister, murdered her. The happiest time of his life, followed by the horror of the worst. It tore him asunder still. Time was supposed to heal such wounds. This one proved to be impossible. How could you heal an impossibly deep wound?

The realization from earlier fresh in his mind, he stopped his circular obsessing. For the first time something new occurred to him. His heart wouldn't heal because as an emotional fool he picked off the scab over and over again. He had to break this obsession. How? With what? Knowing himself, only a new obsession would do. That would mean a new love. The thought filled him with abject fear.

His muscles screamed painfully from holding himself so rigidly tight. It was almost as painful as his feelings. Neatly, he folded up his anguish and tucked it back into its usual bed, in the middle of his mind.

Focusing back on the task at hand, he'd learned two things.

One. The Vorlon encounter suit aboard Fed's ship- where it came from and why it looked the way it did. The Vorlons had not left their junk lying about. Considering their philosophy centered in order, this made sense. It was stolen, first by naive villagers then by a greedy technomage. And considering her tendency to steal cadavers, Rhea was just as much of an unrepentant thief as her grandmother. For that matter Fed, seemed to have a tendency at unapologetic thievery as well. Unexpected.

Two. That painting on Rhea's wall. Some in the Order claimed to have visions of the future like Centauri seers. These visions always tended to be vague and useless. Worse, such things were not well explained. Some took it as a evidence there was a God, a universal higher power, fate, or destiny. Or whatever nonsense they wanted to peddle. To Galen it was but a manifestation of some not yet understood science.

Yet here Galen had a hunch. He summoned an orbital scan of Vorlon he had culled from Fed's ship. Compared it to the painting from the memory of Rhea's wall painting. One clearly was an artist's version of the other. Interesting. A fateful vision indeed. And vague and useless. Time for more.

/10/

- 21.11.2255

Heat from the blue flame of a gas fire. Sitting on the floor before the fireplace, back to a cold wooden bed frame, I sat on the floor wrapped in giant white blanket. My arms wrapped around someone with their bare back to me. We sat in perfect silence as our feet warmed before the heat of the flames.

Rhea looked at me over her shoulder with a frown. "You've been too quiet."

"I'm fine," I said in a small voice. And kissed the top of her hair.

With a sigh, she fully turned to me. "You're lying. Why, disappointed?"

My arms tightened around her. "No." But I didn't say more.

She goaded, "Then what's wrong?" Her confusion morphed to understanding. "Was it too much, too soon?"

I chortled. "My jaw is pretty sore. It surprised me how long that is supposed to go on," Her mischievous smile grew as I rubbed and flexed my jaw left to right, up and down, stretching the muscles. "But I loved it. Your explicit directions were great. No, I … was just thinking, porn does a shitty job of showing you what real sex is like."

"It helps to talk about it," she encouraged me.

I ran my hand through over my head, tugging my own hairs. "When I thought about us, and I did that a lot, I really did not think about… feelings, I guess. It's like I can't breathe right anymore."

When she opened her mouth to speak, words kept pouring out of me, "And I probably should have brought this up last night before we spent all night going at it but better late than never, right? Should little Fed wear a raincoat?"

When I paused she made to answer, but I kept talking over her, "I mean I know how stuff works for normals, but you said you ovulated like 6 times. Is that still going on? I mean, I really don't want to be someone's dad…"

Her hand covered my mouth forcing an end to my ramble. "How about letting me answer before I lose track of the questions."

...

If Galen rolled had his eyes any harder, they'd fall out of his head. Of course, Fed gave no thought to the consequences of his actions until after. He didn't understand that technomage women need never worry about unwanted children. Their tech gave them complete power over their fertility.

This needed to go faster. Galen decided to cut short anything that did not seem promising.

/11/

-22.11.2255

Sunlight fully lit up my face. I grunted in annoyance, yawned and sat up. I was alone in a bed half perfectly made. The bedroom neat, organized. Everything in its place and ready to not be used. All the furniture besides the bed had large white sheets neatly draped over it as if the house had just been taken over by ghosts. My perfectly folded clothes sat next to me on a nightstand. A pin the size of my forearm stabbed a scrap of paper to the pillow next to my head.

I ripped off the note and read:

Doing some good and tiresome grown ups things. Will be back eventually with multiple hungers. Prepare accordingly.

XO, R

"Oooh." I smiled to myself, kicked off the bed covers and sprang out of bed. Then, stretched, strolled nakedly down the hall, and hopped down the steep, winding staircase two stairs at a time. To finally walk in to the kitchen. Everything still, quiet, clean. I went straight to the fridge, to pick through its contents. I grabbed out a round plastic tub with bright red solid side. Carefully, I balanced a half soccer ball sized wedge of orange cheese on top.

"I see you've made yourself quite at home." Gwynn's voice came from behind.

Startled I dropped both things and spun about wide-eyed. Gwynn released the hinged door, which flipped behind her like a flag in the wind. In a gray herringbone coat that went to her knees, I saw her eyes go immediately downward.

"I expected you to be to be bigger." She said with a smirk, and accusing finger pointing out my nakedness.

My cheeks burned. "I'm a grower."

A sneer grew on her face. "I should hope so."

Leaning I snatched a bowl of apples on the nearby wooden counter sending fruit scattering as I held the bowl over of groin.

Gwynn shook her head disapprovingly. "That's unhygienic."

She opened a small shelf on the other side of the counter separating us, and threw an apron at me. I dropped the bowl to catch it. As it clattered unbroken on the floor I fumbled it around my waist.

"And I now it's even smaller."

"I suspect you have that effect on most men Gwynn." A chortle met my words. "Sorry about …" I pointed at myself, "I thought I was alone." With an elbow, I nudged the fridge closed. Relaxed, I went about picking up the fallen food.

She dismissed my words with an arrogant wave. "You're far, far from the first." Stopping my work, I raised my eyebrows to that.

"She does it deliberately. A test of hers," Gwynn clarified.

Shock. I blurted out, "What kind of test?"

"Of personality." Rhea answered. With heels clicking on the old tile floor, she had walked in through the kitchen door opposite the one Gwynn had entered. Her green coat snuggly closed, collar up to ears, her hair braided and wound about her neck like a scarf. "I had hoped, you would only slander me Gwynn when I'm present to defend myself."

All disapproval, Gwynn indicated at me and dictated, "I saw you failed to resist temptation. He's clearly inexperienced," I frowned at her words. Gwynn either didn't notice, or didn't care, and plowed on, "I thought he should know the truth. What he's in for. The power imbalance is obvious. I believe that is why the Circle frowns on such associations."

Absorbing the lecture, Rhea didn't have a ready answer.

I snapped at the pair, "You two can stop talking over me like I'm furniture. And you," I pointed at Gwynn, "I'm an adult and can decide for myself." Gwynn blinked with surprise. "And you," I pointed at Rhea, "Did I pass?"

Rhea and I locked eyes. I flipped my frown over, and smiled broadly at her. Her face immediately reacted to match mine.

"10 out of 10." She said.

"I see I'm spitting into the wind. When do we leave tonight?" Gwynn asked.

"Midnight." Rhea answered as she threw herself at me. With a pivot Gwynn, retreated, throwing a disgusted ugh behind her.

Like two magnets, we locked together necking.

…

Ugh indeed. Useless. Again. Finally losing his patience, Galen had stopped mid-steam and jumped forward and pulled faster, and faster, until the images and sounds blurred. The stream washed over him. During all his years monitoring the Circle's probe network he had become adept at picking through avalanches of information. He combed for two key words Vorlon or Mars. It did not take long for a hit.

—-

/20/

- 23.11.2255

"Mars was not a game Gwynn," Rhea said. In pajamas covered in tiny purple skulls on a pale green fabric, she glared at Gwynn, over a beaker of steaming red liquid.

Aboard a technomage ship, sitting around a built in metal table, I sat between the women and watched. Before us a table covered with plates heaped with food half eaten. The galley kitchen backdrop, a mountain of dirty dishes in the small sink and ingredients left out on the counter. The leftover wedge of quiche sat in the center of the table besides a colorful salad.

"Agreed. That's why I insist you tell me," said Gwynn. Opposite me, Gwynn sat with her fingers steepled together.

"Let it go Gwynn," Rhea said, jaw stiff with control about to tumble to anger.

"No," Gwynn said simply. With deliberation Gwynn picked up a glass pitcher of water and lifted it too high over her empty beaker-glass. She painstakingly poured water. The splashing noise filled the galley and eating area with a loud gurgling noise. All the while Gwynn radiated cold displeasure.

Under Gwynn's menacing missile like focus Rhea reacted with annoyance. "Oh please. My grandmother wrote the book on human interrogation for the Order. Those coercive head games Coeus thought you, I learned and mastered years before you. It's not going to work on me," Rhea said.

From out of the shadows, a man said, "You got anything that's not half green." I watched Roland step out of the shadows into the light of the table, bringing with him a chair. He brushed his blonde mohawk braid off his shoulder and poked the uneaten quiche and salad on the prepared plate in front of him.

I said, "Sorry no but ..."

Rhea spoke over me, "For Weirdan's sake Roland, it won't kill you to eat something healthy every once and awhile."

Silently he stood up and walked away. At the last moment before leaving the galley, Roland said, "Yes it will." Then, he disappeared into a dark side corridor.

Gwynn stopped her menacing with an annoyed grunt. She considered for a breath and switched to a whisper. "Between Roland's message, this involving my master and you,and happening on a neighboring world.. Taken together makes it my business." She tapped a finger on the table with every point made.

The analysis surprised Rhea. She said in the same hushed whisper, "Secrecy is part of our code Gwynn. Don't make me violate that."

I spoke up loudly startling them both, "Hera says secrets, unless they involve the words- surprise and party, are usually bad."

Gwynn's face lit up at my words. "See. Even your boy-toy agrees with me."

Rhea eyed me with annoyance. "What do you want from me Gwynn?"

Gwynn pressed on, "After my initiation, I plan to take Truth, my mother's old sigil, as my rune. I simply want to get a head start on collecting a bit."

"That's rich coming from someone who sneaks off every week to god knows where, to do god knows what."

"Fine I'll start." Gwynn sat up straighter. Her expression grew colder somehow. "I have a job."

Rhea just stared at her.

I said, "Huh. Coeus didn't seem the stingy sort of master to me."

Irritated, Rhea found her voice, "He's not Fed. Gwynn gets an allowance. And that's on top of what her mother left her. Why in the world do you have a job?"

Gwynn said quickly, and defensively, "Coeus asks nothing of me. I got bored. I went looking. It's interesting work."

Excited for her, I asked, "What is it?"

"I'm a private contractor working with EarthGov Security."

Shocked, Rhea asked, "Law enforcement?"

Gwynn nodded.

"You're a cop?" I matched Rhea's surprised tone. Gwynn shook her head no.

"Consultant. Surveillance and interrogation. I think up creative ways to get the information they need within EarthGov's legal framework." Gwynn corrected me with pride.

With disapproval Rhea said, "I was hoping you had a boyfriend."

Gwynn's coldness melted to pleased, suddenly. "I have one of those as well. He does physical penetration testing."

I snickered immaturely at the end of her words. Gwynn flipped back to radiating cold.

Clapping happily Rhea burst out, "Oh thank God." Gwynn rolled her eyes at the outburst. Rhea was undeterred, "Is he good in bed? He better be. Otherwise tonight he's getting a visit from the ghosts of sex past, present and future."

"This is why I tell you as little as possible."

Rhea clutched her heart, in mocked shock, "But I'm being helpful. Now tell me everything about him."

"Fine. A trade. I'll tell you about him and you tell me about Mars." Her words sucked the jovial energy out of the room.

When it looked like they would return to their stalemate, I said, "You know it might make you feel better if you talk about it."

Rhea snapped at me, "That's crap therapists tell their patients to kick start conversations. Just whose side are you on?" Rhea looked at me as if I had just betrayed her.

Looking between them, I casually said, "Neither. I already know what happened." Gwynn's head whipped to me as if I had hit her.

"How could… ?" Rhea's voice sputtered out.

"Oh, I um … I might have overheard Hera and Coeus discuss it."

"You spied on them." Gwynn said with awed admiration. When I didn't speak immediately, she demanded, "Spit it out."

I put my hands up defensively toward Rhea blocking the angry daggers she flung with her eyes. "I heard enough to figure it out. That and I hacked Hera's ship. Her nav system told me we were near New Vegas."

I stabbed a leaf of salad with my fork, chewed it on one side of my mouth and spoke with the other, "Walkyra's the only technomage on Mars. Kell's involved. And our glorious leader wouldn't be involved unless bodies hit the ground." I cocked a thumb and indicated down the dark hall, "Walkyra's Roland's mom. Some project, my guess Walkyra's since Hera mentioned dismantling something of hers, must've gone bad or been discovered or something. Predictable violence ensued. That note from Roland meant his mom is fine, which means some outsiders got it," I pointed at Rhea, "All the rest's been the cover-up..."

Rhea said quietly. "I can't believe you…. Remind me never to underestimate you again."

I gave her a strained smile as I continued, "The only thing I don't get is Hera was super pissed at Coeus. It was about you." I pointed at Rhea. "She said your Dad played God. Retreaded the past and crushed potential. I can't figure that out."

Wide eyed, Rhea stiffened. I looked to Gwynn for help but she studied Rhea like a microscope focusing onto a slide.

Regaining self control, Rhea went cool. "You two snoops don't get to know all my secrets." She tapped me on the nose. "And you piecing most of it together doesn't change a thing about Mars."

"Sure it changes things," said Roland from behind us. He glided out of the darkened hall.

"We were ordered not to speak." Rhea pleaded at the approaching man.

Again, he stepped into the light over the table. This time he carried a platter of pizza which he dropped on top of the quiche. He grabbed a slice the size of his head. Folded it in half and held it like a fan. With a pizza wave at me, he said, "The kid guessed it. Might as well be honest with them."

Rhea turned away to face the darkness and stayed silent.

Roland said between chews, "I went home to visit my Mom... Walked in on some creeps trying to jack her up... I got rid of them except for their telepath. He stopped me … But he forgot to watch his back." He stopped chewing and froze staring at the crust in his hand.

"What happened to the telepath?" I encouraged him.

Roland looked at me and didn't answer. Instead he jammed a last bit of crust in his mouth. Then reached for another slice.

"You murdered them?" Gwynn quickly asked.

"We have a right to defend ourselves," agitated, Rhea snapped at Gwynn.

"Do you know anything about them? Who they were? Why'd they do it?" I calmly asked.

Roland let out a disgusted grunt, and said, "You sound like Kell. He didn't care about Mom either. Fuck your victim blaming bullshit."

Roland took a huge bite out his new slice of pizza, with an unblinking stare. After he swallowed he wiped his mouth with his sleeve and shrugged.

When he spoke this time, anger mixed with his words. "You want the juicy details, sure. I walked in to Mom laid out on the ground, bloody. I reacted. I cut them each in half. Except … their weakass telepath, he got in my head, froze me … But he didn't notice Mom getting to her feet behind him... Guy had a bad day." Roland's lips couldn't decide whether to settle on a frown or grimace.

"Is he still alive?" I asked about the telepath again.

"What does it matter?" Roland threw back.

Gwynn exploded with words at him, "Of course it matters you idiotic momma's boy."

His attention shifted to Gwynn. A dark smile passed over his face quickly. "Beats being a cold cunt any day."

Eyes wide, Gwynn flushed red. She grabbed the pizza platter and flipped it into Roland's face. Then dove across the table at him.

"Hey!" I shouted. Standing, I tried to grab her, but she was already on two of them tumbled backwards with Gwynn landing on top of him. While I struggled off the bench, and around the table, Gwynn landed a right hook on Roland's temple knocking bits of pizza off his face. He made no move to protect himself. Instead he pulled her closer with a manic laugh as if they were lovers about to roll over.

"Stop it," Rhea said tiredly. The last to react, she stood up from the her side of the bench.

With a hand on Roland's throat, Gwynn pushed herself upwards with her right arm cocked for another blow. I grabbed her arm slowing her down enough for Rhea to seize the back of Gwynn's peach fuzz covered head. Black tendrils fused from hands to neck.

With a firm grip Rhea said. "Calm. Sit." Gwynn froze. With a blank expression, she sat back down on the edge of the built in bench. I helped Roland up. When Rhea dropped her arm, Gwynn re-animated and buried her face in her hands.

"Temper, temper Gwynn," Roland said, his left eye swelling. Gwynn vaulted to her feet. With hands up, he braced for another round. Instead, Gwynn just shook her hand out grimacing, and stalked away into the darkness rubbing her knuckles.

Rhea rounded on Roland and drove a finger in his chest. "This typical technomage acting out is not going to make you feel better."

The more she said, the smaller and more lost Roland looked. He said to the darkness, "I've never seen Mom like that. What she did…" He fell silent and still as a statue.

Taking his arm, I said, "Look man, sounds like they had it coming." I guided Roland to sit back down in the chair I righted for him, "Bad things happen all the time. Sometimes good people have no choice but to cause it."

Rhea gave me a strained but grateful look. "Listen to Fed. And it helps to talk it through Roland. Go back to your ship. I'll come over and we'll talk."

Roland didn't move. Instead we watched as he hummed softly, and began to sing to himself, "Dreams of war, Dreams of liars, Dreams of dragon's fire, And of things that will bite.**"

I looked at Rhea, with wide eyes, and raised eyebrows. As Roland kept humming, she mimed to be silent and beckoned me to follow. When I did she took my hand, and pulled me into darkness.

As we walked through a dense shifting shadows, small spheres popped up to illuminate our path over a field of tiny stars.

"Wow, fun times eh." I said. Rhea nodded yes tiredly as she led me to a small cabin. It was organized and neat except for the open chest that spilled men's clothes all over the floor.

She pointed at the chest. I asked, "What is it?"

"Your master is about to collect you."

"Oh. Can you handle them alone?"

She waved a dismissive arm. "It'll be fine. This is typical for those two. Really for all technomages in general."

"I noticed. Are you sure you're okay alone?" I asked.

She snorted at that. "My father used to offer workshops during convocations called Developing Emotional Intelligence for Technomages. I was the only one who ever attended. So at least I've learned to navigate such things."

With a chuckle, I smoothly said, "In everyone's defense, that class sounds like the worst. He should've pulled a bait and switch, called it something like Pie Making 101 or Free Blow Jobs."

She blinked in confusion. Then laughed heartily. "Clever. I'll pass on your recommendations."

I didn't smile. "So … When are we gonna see eachother again?"

Shrugging, she glanced away out the open cabin door. "I don't know."

"Okay, are we good?" I asked, nervously fidgeting, and bouncing on my feet. I picked up a pair of men's boxers with hearts, smelled it and threw it in the open chest. The awkward silence stretched as I worked. After the last piece of clothing made it into the chest, I slammed down the lid and sat on top not looking at her. With dread, I crossed my arms and bit my lip.

"No," she said.

Finally, I looked at her to find her buttoning up her green coat over her pajamas.

I said, "I know I pushed too hard. I'm not really siding with Gwynn, it's just I think she's right. Mars is …"

She interrupted me, "It's not that. This..." Indicating back and forth between us, "We have to take a break."

"Why?" I demanded.

"I explained already. Remember, the Order's rules- no sexual involvement with apprentices."

I waved a dismissive hand. "Rules are for breaking. We can sneak around behind everyone's back."

She scoffed at my answer. "You have nothing to lose. Me on the other hand, I'm applying to the Circle to have my status raised to Adapt. I need to behave myself. At least when the Circle is watching. Besides with your master's running for the Circle, if anyone noticed, and technomages notice everything, it'd be a scandal. Your master would make me disappear if I created a sexual scandal anywhere near her right now."

With that said, she donned her hood, hiding her face. A wave of her a, green vines erupted out of her left hand, moved along the floor to my trunk, lassoed it, lifted it up and snaked it out the cabin ahead of her.

After the trunk and she moved past me, I grabbed her hand to stop her. "Are you breaking up with me?"

She didn't answer. With a pull, silently, she led me along a dark tunnel illuminated only by the light of the star field.

I begged. "Please. You can't. We have so much fun together."

She patted my hand.

"Is it because I'm messy? I'm sorry I leave my clothes everywhere, and never make the bed, and always leave dirty dishes piled up and …"

She put a finger to my mouth and I stopped speaking at once. "I should mind that. But my ship's never smelled this amazing."

"Is it Roland? Are you getting back together with him?"

A sigh. Then a resigned look passed over her like a wave. Another pat on my hand.

"I love you." I blurted out. I yanked my hand from hers, pulled her hood off and took her shocked face in my hands. I spoke fast, "I think I have for a while. I wanted to tell you, but I didn't want to come on too strong. But now. You need to know. I love you."

Her lips parted as her eyes searched me.

"You missed your cue," I prompted. Her eyes narrowed in confusion.

"I'll help... I love you to," I finished in falsetto. "I'm serious. When I find something I love. I latch on and don't let go. Just ask Hera. I go full lamprey." I tightly grabbed her hand between both mine.

With a sudden bright smile, she finally said, "Did you just compare yourself to a parasitic fish?"

I nodded yes and held my breath.

Up on her toes she kissed my cheek, and said, "Don't ever change Fed." Her free hand snaked to the back of my neck. Her fingers dug into the spine in my neck. "Let me go." My eyes unfocused, everything blurred. My hands dropped.

With a backwards step she slipped into the darkness. A bright light irised open next to me.

EOF

The worst trouble I ever got into was her fault. Thinking about it, I see how pathetic I got. At least I got her to talk to me one last time. It felt so good just being next to her. Fuck me, I still sound pathetic. Note to self, this love shit sucks.

/21/

- 15.12.2255

Gray clouds hugged a muddy plain of mostly boulders separating large mud puddles. Bouncing in place, I stared at a crowd of dead silent technomages who stared back at me expectantly. Past them, up a hill spread the grid of a tent city.

"They do not matter," Herazade ordered from behind me, "Look at me only."

"What's with the children of the corn staring?" I asked her, nervously tugging on a loose stand.

"Curiosity. This is a once in a lifetime spectacle. You're the last of the apprentices who are training publicly for the first time. And while I'm not on the Circle, yet, your skill or lack thereof, will inform them of my level of skill. Just ignore it. Focus on my voice and commanding your chrysalis. Start by forming a platform under us."

I didn't move. Two hands grabbed the shoulders of my orange t-shirt and forced me to face away from the crowd. I closed my eyes and drew a simple square behind my deliberate blindness. We smoothly lifted off the ground and rose up to waist high.

"Good. Now open your eyes and apply your acceleration vector." Together we slowly floated forward. The platform wobbled slightly.

"Focus on maintaining your spells… That's fast enough... Remove the acceleration vector and apply your air friction compensation vector."

We moved parallel along the crowd at a slow steady pace.

"Excellent. Let's wrap it up. I need to return to my debate prep. Just like we practiced last night. Finish with a bang to impress the muggles Harry," She joked. A tap on my right shoulder. "Look in the direction of rotation."

Looking over my shoulder, at the end of the crowd, Rhea stood in her long green coat, hood off. She played with the end of her long braid. A knowing smile grew obvious when our eyes locked. With a sudden intake of breath, my platform violently tilted upward off the horizon. Instinctively I grabbed the edge and held on but from behind I heard a, "Argh!"

Looking back, I froze and watched Herazade tumble backwards. She tucked and slapped her arms out. Still the large puddle embraced her fully. The rebounding splash covered the bits spared by her initial entry.

The illusions covering her shattered. A fractal confetti flitted away, disappearing on the wind. A few gasps, and one loud oops went up from the watching crowd. Her illusions gone, a dirt encrusted version of her true-self became plain- leathered skin, shoulder length hair streaked with obvious gray among the black and brown. Her former silver sari gone. In its place, a mud dipped gray jumpsuit like a circuit board made made of clinging, form-fitted fabric.

As I slid off my dissolving platform I landed on a large flat topped boulder next to her. I whispered, "Shit. Are you okay?"

Not speaking, she slid and slipped her way to stand up. A few laughs drifted above the silence of the entranced crowd. Two figures detached from the crowd and flew quickly toward us.

Embedded to her knees in the mud, through gritted teeth Herazade said, "Exactly why did you dump me on my ass?" She slapped palms against her wired fabric for emphasis.

With a forced laugh, I jested, "I told you I'd get you back for that hookers joke."

Shock rolled across her face. Then an electric arc leapt past me to the ground. Her arm shot out, to the side of my head. I nearly fell in next to her as she twisted my ear.

She hissed, "Why you little ..."

"Herazade!" A rebuke flew from the first technomage to reach us. The Circle's healer, Ing-Radi floated beside Herazade.

With her eyes wide, Herazade's arm fell away from my ear immediately. She stammered, "I … he ... " As she gave up trying to explain, the second healer, Coeus landed behind the muddy woman.

"Have you hit your head?" Ing-Radi asked with concern.

The healer settled before her and reached for Herazade with all four of her hands. One hand on the back of her neck, one on the chin, two grasping either side of her temple. Coeus laid both his hands along her spine. The two healers nodded to each other as they quietly scanned. After a few moments, satisfied, they quickly released her, the old healer with a loud, sigh of relief. After the brief hold, the healers hands had turned brown with dirt. Casually Ing-Radi let her arms settle to her side. While Coeus held his dirty hands awkwardly before him, unable to decide how to clean them.

Herazade jerked away from them both. "Everything is fine." Attempting a regal posture she tried to take a step but the mud had trapped her legs. Mute and still, I bit my lip to stifle a smile. Ceous buried his laugh with a cough to the back of the hand.

The spectacle complete, the laughing and murmuring crowd began to disperse. Coeus reached to help pull her free but Herazade slapped his hand away, dirtying his green sleeved overcoat.

Ing-Radi tsked and said, "I am glad you are uninjured. But why would you berate your apprentice?"

Herazade opened her mouth to speak, but stopped herself. Anxiously, she snapped, "Are you telling me how to discipline my apprentice?"

"Certainly not. Yet, you know he is new to casting. You should have anticipated his obvious mistakes. Next time I would suggest you remember inertia exists and simply hold on."

Tight-lipped, Herazade's face, the parts not brown with drying mud, turned red. With a forced nod, she said, "I have made note of your suggestions."

The alien healer let out a disappointed breath. "Your apprentice did well for his first outing. If I were you, I should be most pleased." Ing-Radi chirped pleasantly indicating at me with all four of her arms.

The red of her face faded to rigid coolness. Herazade said to me making it clear she did not agree with the healer, "Remove your chrysalis."

An open container floated its way to my side. I removed the silvery tentacled mass from my head and back with a un-suctioning slurp, and dropped it in the metal cylinder.

We watched Herazade consider how to extract herself from her puddle. Indecisively, she stood still knee deep until another man, Kell, appeared out of nowhere next to her. His simple black robes did little to conceal his commanding presence. His white goatee shaped to a rune of knowledge shone against his dark skin.

Herazade gasped as a mighty giant's hand swept like wind from above, plucked her out of the mud and carefully placed her feet on a nearby rock.

"A mud bath is an odd way to prepare for your debate tonight," said Kell, the Order's leader.

Her rigid tension eased. An embarrassed grin answered, "Breaking with tradition is always invigorating." Herazade floated up off the ground. "Thank you for your assistance. Next I should let the elements of air and water have their way with me."

Holding my cylinder in her hand, she shot up like a rocket, momentarily disturbing the stormy clouds to swirls. Lightning flashed dimly inside the clouds. A low rumble followed by rain pelted from above. A flick of Kell's hand redirected the rain around us with an encompassing, invisible sphere. Coeus held his hands outside of the shield umbrella, letting the heavy rain slowly rinse his hands.

"I will not be available to assist you further this convocation," Coeus said softly to Ing-Radi.

"Why ever not?" Ing-Radi turned with surprise to the middle-aged technomage in the green wool suit.

Coeus' eyes flickered to Kell. "I'm leaving early to pursue … A private interest."

Ing-Radi frowned. "Rhea can take your place."

He smoothly said, "I'm afraid not. She's coming with me."

"You leave me bereft then, unless ... Young Gowen has shown a keen interest and some talent in my healing arts. I will offer him the opportunity."

Done washing, he opened his coat and pulled out a white cloth to dry his hands. With a gentle smile, he said, "Bon. It is well settled then. À la prochaine." Coeus bowed to her and Kell.

"May Weirdan's spirit guide and protect you," Ing-Radi said drawing the runes for luck, and plentiful before him.

With his hands in his pockets, Coeus floated slowly up into the clouds.

When I tried to head toward the tent city, Kell blocked me with a relaxed palm. Standing so close, I could make out the old deep wrinkles bisecting his face. I looked away from him to stare at the bleak, empty horizon.

Idly, Ing-Radi said at Kell, "Such disappointments. Especially Herazade's reaction."

With a deep sonorous voice, Kell spoke, "I dare anyone to react graciously after such a fall."

"Regardless, know I speak against her in the debate tonight," said Ing-Radi.

As she spoke, I inched sideways away from the pair of old Circle leaders. Turning fully away, I took a step. A heavy hand landed on my shoulder, tightened, and yanked me back, like a dog's owner pulling on the leash.

"May I ask why?" Kell asked her as he reeled me in to stand next to him as if we posed for a portrait about to be taken by the four-armed healer.

"Her lack of awareness and insufficient self-control were obvious a minute ago. But this is not my sole reason. She snubs our traditions at every opportunity. The most obvious is her lack of a place of power."

Kell said, "She's hardly the first."

"She's worse. Her vociferous advocacy has made it more popular." Ing-Radi said the last word with particular distrust. "When Elric questioned her why she did not keep to tradition, she gave the condescending, nonsense answer of a young fool, 'It's too old-fashioned.' Thus, my conclusion. She is too immature."

Kell's laugh boomed out, starling us both. "I believe you said the same of me when I ran for the Circle."

Swatting the air toward him, Ing-Radi chided, "It was true in your case as well."

"And here I assumed it was all the times you caught her drinking and smoking weed as an apprentice."

My eyes went wide as the healer chortled briefly. As her smile faded, Ing-Radi said, "If I had a master such as Aldous, I too would have turned to drugs." Her arms planted themselves on her sides in annoyance at Kell. "But I see you've decided in her favor already. I would ask you to explain yourself but I know you well enough, 'tis clear you prefer to hide the truth of it."

The old man's hand gripped me tighter, holding my neck like a vice. Kell said to the healer, "Who do you support? Or do you agree with Elric that we should remain neutral, above rolling around in the figurative mud of Order politics?" His arm swept dramatically across the brown plain for emphasis.

Her hands clasped a towel tucked subtly within the rustling fabric of her black robes. Wiping mud off her hands, she answered. "There is wisdom in Elric's way. But like you, I find myself unable to resist interfering. Blaylock also opposes her."

"Blaylock opposes all the candidates. And would happily leave us at 4. Tell me who you support," Kell spoke like a closed book.

"I will not, for methinks you would undermine them."

Kell's eyes lit up at the challenge and said, "Then may the best candidate win. Now if you'll excuse us. I wish to speak with Fed alone." She bowed deeply to Kell and flew toward the tent city immediately.

I held my breath and did not look him in the face.

His deep voice edged of anger, Kell said, "You've made my job harder. What do you have to say for yourself?"

I turned to him wide-eyed, and stammered, "I… ummm…" My voice petered out.

Kell said, "I watched you perform that maneuver flawlessly a dozen times over last night. Explain to me why you failed so dramatically when it mattered." I ran a hand through my coarse tangled hair, pushing it out of my eyes. I swallowed hard, but didn't answer him.

I shifted my weight around nervously, "I … a…"

The old man let out an annoyed grunt. "I asked Herazade how you've been since Aldous died. She told me you've been acting out, stealing flyers. And even got arrested. This looks like a deliberate escalation to me."

My vision tunnelled. The sound of whooshing in my ears grew.

Kell demanded simply, "Was it nerves or did you toss her deliberately?"

A deep resounding command hit me, "Answer Me."

My senses cleared. I dropped to my knees in front of him, clutching the front of his black robe. Words poured out like vomit. "Please don't cast me away, I have nowhere else to go, I swear I've stopped stealing, I deserved to get yelled at. I said I did it on purpose to get back at Hera because she joked about me sleeping with hookers in front of the girl I'm in love with. But I lied, it's really because she smiled at me even though I think she dumped me last week, but I'm not really sure, and, one time …"

"Enough," he commanded.

My words stopped like a spigot turned off. I retreated to sit down on large boulder. WIth my arms resting on my knees I stared at my lap. With a tap on the head, he made me turn my attention back to him. An amused but tired look greeted me. A flick of his hand and I rose to my feet as if an invisible hand forced me to face him.

He rubbed his goatee thoughtfully. "Let me see if I understand. You dumped your master, making her look like a fool before the whole Order, because a girl, you like but possibly won't have you, smiled at you. Then said you did it on purpose for revenge because she embarrassed you in front of said girl."

In a tiny sheepish voice I admitted, "I meant it as a joke."

"That is the stupidest thing you could have done," He declared.

With a chuckle to my groan, he said, "I also asked Herazade why she didn't cast you away for disobedience already. She became quite annoyed with me. Then swore you're the best of all possible students." I gagged at his words. His head nodded agreement as he said more, "I do not agree with her sentiment. And she probably doesn't feel that way at this moment either. Yet, like all things, this will pass."

Sheepishly, I whispered, "Did I just cost her the election?"

He eyed me seriously and didn't answer.

"Oh god. Then I'm in really deep shit." I began to breath hard as if I'd been running.

With a pat on the shoulder, he leaned in to whisper, "Just between you and me, I was almost 40 before I learned to maintain my casting focus when certain women were within sight."

My breathing calmed. I lit up with excitement, "Really? Or did you say that to make me feel better?"

"I will deny it adamantly if you dare repeat it." He didn't commit to clarity.

We both laughed at that. Then he turned stern. With gravity, he said, "Every challenge holds within it the opportunity to excel. Unfortunately, she's hiding and ignoring my messages. If you see her before the debate tell her to come see me."

I eagerly said, "Sure. How do I umm… see opportunity in this challenge?"

"Make amends. At the debate tonight, show unity of purpose and return her loyalty. An apprentice should be his master's greatest ally. Agreed?"

Much to his shock, I grabbed his hand, and eagerly shook it. He relaxed into my handshake, with an odd smile. "I see you picked up one of Aldous' more annoying habits." He shooed away my hand. "I'm glad you got to know him."

With a glint in his eye, he said in hushed voice, "And if I were you, first I'd find out why that girl was smiling at me."

He disappeared from sight. Standing up, I sprang boulder to boulder, climbing my way toward the hill of temporary tent buildings, erected in a grid. When I reached the metal walkway, I found each had the same generic burning rune centered on every door. No letters, or pictures.

I said to myself, "Shit."

When I turned a corner I ran into a wall of muscle. Roland, alone, stood in my way in the center of the metal walkway connecting two tents. His mohawk's hair carefully braided and wrapped about his neck like a scarf. Blonde stubble, the beginnings of a beard, covered his chin and cheeks. While we were the same height, and width, his barrel chest filled his clothes to bursting while my hung on me.

"Hey Roland. You're looking umm … good." I took a step back from him. He looked at me sourly. With his black leather jacket unbuttoned and his yellow shirt untucked, I could see he wore an empty sword sheath, like he'd forgotten it.

"Feeling no pain. Thanks to Rhea." Roland said rubbing the stubble on his cheek, thinking hard.

My eyes darted around, but no one else appeared. I asked him, "You don't by any chance know which one of these is Rhea's quarters?

His eyes narrowed on me before he shook his head yes. Then he said, "Nice flying today."

My cheeks burned warmly. "The end could have been better."

"Aren't you big on screwing over the women in your life?"

Eyes wide, I cocked my head to the side. "What do you mean?"

He began to stroll around me as if deciding my worth in a store. "Did you have fun last night with, I heard her mage name is Ak-Shana?"

"What?"

He finished a circuit and kept walking. "You sat with a girl, Ak-Shana, at dinner, last night. You two seemed to be getting along really well."

"Umm... friends drama." I followed him with my eyes, swallowing nervously, "She had an argument with Kane about stupid stuff. I heard all the deets. I think she wants me to take her side. I'm trying hard not to."

Finishing another slow circuit, he stopped, put a hand on each of my shoulders and shook his head sadly. Then, he grabbed me and walked me backwards to a dead end corner.

"Um. What are doing?" I said walking backwards suddenly and not stumbling only because of the man's grip on me.

Taking fist fulls of my orange shirt, he shook me. "I don't know what you did to Rhea but she's been all sulky this convocation, and I just found her crying."

I brightened. "Really? Well I didn't do anything ..." An open hand slap, cut off my words. I grabbed my cheek in shock.

"Don't even. I know you did something." He jabbed me in the side. When I curled up, he shoved my back toward the wall. Catching myself against the cold metal wall, I rubbed my side, and watched Roland approach me with a casual steps.

"At least put your guard up. I feel like I'm kicking a puppy," he complained. I didn't move, and he grunted in annoyance. "Here's what's going to happen- I'm going to drag you back to her tent and you're going to grovel at her feet on your hands and knees until she feels better."

When he reached for me, I grabbed his wrist with both hands, swung it up over my head while turning my back to him. Then brought the back of his extended elbow down on my shoulder, but I hesitated when I saw the look of shock on his face. After my pause, Roland jabbed a finger in my side, in the same place he did the first time. Grimacing, I grabbed and clutched the spot, releasing Roland from my hold.

He retreated. And said with manic pride, "Nice reverse kid. But, in a real fight, don't hesitate. What're you into, aikido?"

"BJJ mostly," I said.

He spit on the ground, "God I hate fighting you clingy, grappling motherfuckers." In a flash, he was on me. His brute strength in control. His hand on my neck, he cocked a fist to punch my face.

I held up my hand, begging, "Wait! I'll gladly do it."

Surprised by my easy surrender, he pushed me ahead of him. We walked silently to a tent with the same burning rune circle as all the rest. Roland held out his hand. Burning musical notes played an escalating note scale as they soared out of his fingertips and fed themselves to the door. The circle morphed to the fiery words, Mind Over Matter. The door disappeared. Inside, open luggage strewn about the floor, a stripped bed frame with a pile of used linens in the center, and an open wardrobe with a few clothes still hung up. Rhea stood in the middle wearing her long green coat talking to a Minbari. Together, they turned to stare at us as Roland shoved me to my knees before her.

"What's going on?" Rhea demanded.

I stretched out my hands. "I've just been umm … told I greatly wronged you, I think. Everything is my fault. I beg forgiveness."

The Minbari chuckled at me. I looked up past the gray silk robes at her face.

"Tomoe?" I asked. Her small smooth crest dipped, acknowledging me.

Rhea walked to me immediately, gently took my chin, and turned it to study my face. "Why is your cheek red?"

My eyes flickered to Roland, but I said nothing. Together we watched Roland stroll to the corner where the wardrobe met the wall, retrieve his blue metal sword, and slide it in his sheath in one graceful movement.

With sudden fury directed at Roland, Rhea said, "What did you do?!"

With a confident swagger to my side, Roland looked pleased with himself. "He did something to upset you. I upset him back. No need to thank me. I was glad to do you a solid." Hands on hips, he modelled a heroic pose.

She threw her hands up in disgust. "You don't understand. He did nothing wrong."

"Then why are you the one crying?" Roland countered, his annoyance matching hers.

She crossed her arms and declared, "I don't owe anyone an explanation."

He looked totally confused at Tomoe, who said nothing either. Roland said, "What am I missing?"

"Come on you big idiot." Tomoe pointed with her bare, muscled arm to the door.

Roland crouched down by me, and with a slap to my back sang, "Oops. My bad. You can take a swing at me for free if you want." He offered me his chin.

"Nah. I could just about open-mouth kiss you right now Roland." I stared at Rhea, who looked at everything but me.

"Sure but you have to shave first." He slapped me on the back again, causing a shot of pain to radiate up my side.

Tomoe grabbed Roland's bulky bicep and pulled him away. "I'll tell Coeus we'll be delayed."

Without a look, Rhea waved them out the door. "No need. I'm almost done."

She asked apologetically after they both silently left, "What'd he do to you?"

On my knees still, I spoke up at her, "Your crazy ex-boyfriend thinks we're still together and that I cheated on you. I think, he thinks he was looking out for you."

Her face met her palm. Letting out a large breath, she looked at me and said, "I'm sorry. You can tell the Circle. They'll punish him."

"Nah. They'd ask why. And probably figure out us. Scandal for sure than. Besides he held back. We both did actually."

Rhea gave me a strained appreciative smile and said, "I suppose there's enough gossip centered on you right now. Everyone's already arguing if what you did today was deliberately staged or not."

I stared at her profile as she stuffed the last of her clothes in the last open container. She struggled to close the lid of the overstuffed luggage.

I said, "Ya. That was um … I fucked up. Hera's going to kill me."

"I doubt that," Rhea said as the latch finally caught. She stacked it all from largest to smallest on top. When done, she focused on me with a frown. "You can stand up and leave anytime."

"I can't. My side is killing me." I gingerly held my right side.

Her eyes narrowed, distrustful. Then she sighed, and knelt by me. With a tug, she pulled my shirt out of my belt's embrace, and up over my head. Extending an arm, she exposed her bracelet, snapped off one of the smallest crystals. A warm hand on my bare skin. Then a cold crystal rolled back and forth on the painful area. My side tingled. The pain disappeared. Her weight shifted closer as we knelt side by side.

"You have a tiny bruise between your lowest right ribs." She caught me watching her, and smirked. "I suspect you'll live. Hold still while I heal the clot." She leaned down to focus on my side.

I whispered in her ear, "I wish you'd answer my messages. I've missed you." I inhaled her lavender scent. A momentary stillness was her only reaction. "Election's almost over. Maybe after, if Hera hasn't cast me away, I can talk her into a vacation. Then I can pay you a really scandalous visit." I forced out a laugh.

"I'm not going home." Relaxing, she said matter of factly.

"Where ya going?" I said, puzzled.

"One of my father's contacts found something promising. On a remote Minbari colony, Sorpigal. Outside a city called Valen's Rest. A Vorlon artifact hopefully. Tomoe lives there now. She's our guide so we don't embarrass ourselves."

"Oh. When you're done then, maybe you can visit me on your way home?" I asked.

"I'm not going home. The Circle didn't grant my Adept level. Ing-Radi berated be for being too human-centric. She suggested I travel through all the major homeworlds. She's right. And, this will give me a chance to look for … my planet."

"The one you saw in your dreams that's painted on your bedroom wall?"

A nod yes and pat on my flank. "There good as new." Her fingers lingered, stroking the muscles of my torso. Focusing on her lips, I tried to kiss her, but she turned her head, so my kiss landed on her cheek. She pulled away. Stood up.

"I'm getting some real mixed signals from you. So I guess I'll be clear. I still love you."

Crossing her arms, she looked down at me with cold certainty. "I've seen this movie before. I know how it ends."

With her hands, she mimed two puppets. Her hands spoke to each other in dialogue as if a play started.

"I love you," said the deep-voiced puppet hand.

"I love you to," said the high-pitched puppet hand.

"Stop smothering me," complained the deep voice.

"Sure, when you stop being un grand branleur," mocked the high-pitched hand.

"Let's fuck other people, because that'll fix everything."

"Sure!"

"I can't believe how much of a slut you are."

"Why am I with this idiot?" The high pitched puppet had turned to her audience of one to ask him.

She suddenly stopped. Her hands dropped. "Sorry. I'm getting carried away."

Smiling brightly, I said bouncing in place, "No. That was fun. Keep going. Was that what happened between you and Roland?"

She pursed her lips embarrassed. "You're not understanding. Love is … oxytocin and vasopressin in the blood, in the oldest part of a brain. A heady cocktail of neuropeptides acting on neurons. That is love to a technomage. Real love fades."

"It doesn't always fade. There's plenty of old couples who look happy together even after decades." I argued back.

Clasping her hands together she said with cynical certainty, "Don't be naive. Maybe for normals but not us. At least not without a spell."

"You mean the technomage love spell, the 14 words. Is this another test?"

"Everything is a test Fed." Sad, and grimacing she looked away toward the door.

I sat back on my haunches. "I know how the 14 words works. It only works if there is at least a little love to start. And if there is a lot, it has no real effect. So I'm not worried. I got plenty. Go ahead." I took her hand and moved her fingers to touch the back of my neck. Scared eyes snapped to me. In a panic, she yanked back her hand, as if burned by fire.

She said, "You're … right. I should be clear with you. This ends here. I need to go." With a flip of her wrist, her hood flopped on her head, concealing her. Viney tendrils streaked out from her fingertips, enveloped her luggage tower, lifting it off the ground. Together they moved toward the door.

"Wait. What'd I do wrong?" I pleaded to her back.

She paused to say, "I don't want to talk about it anymore."

"Are you ever going to tell me?" I begged.

She stiffened. "Maybe once... I figure it out."

The door swung aside automatically. She vanished from my sight when she stepped across the threshold. I rolled on my back, sprawled out on the fine weaved rug. With my hands behind my head, I stretched out on the floor and thought of nothing.

Galen paused. No surprises here. Their relationship ended badly with her going off to chase Vorlons. Although seeing it first hand, Fed behaved more pathetically than Galen had supposed. Then it dawned on him. With the last two entries particularly, he'd witnessed Fed's true self- one far more clever, questioning and thoughtful than Galen suspected. This was what Fed preferred to hide those parts of himself behind a fool's mask.

And there was Mars again. Fed supported Roland killing his mother's attackers. And Galen could well guess Walkyra would have been vindictive and bloody brutal with the remaining telepath. Fed's unperturbed support of it all displayed a real moral grayness.

Something nagged at him. Something he missed about Mars. He picked at it until it surrendered to him. Elric had hosted the last official convocation, when he became a technomage. Before the start, Elric insisted he learn every technomage's name and homeworld. Dutifully, Galen complied. Before today, he would have sworn none were from Mars.

Opening a channel to his ship, Galen accessed the Circle's web, scanned the old biographies of Roland and his mother, Walkyra. She looked much like her son. A viking giantess, who looked like she belonged on stage singing Wagner. Oddly, neither biography mentioned Mars. Instead the home field had the phrase- volantem navis. The phrase the Order used for technomages, like himself, that lived aboard their flyer. Yet, Fed's sphere made it clear Walkyra must have lived on Mars for decades. Mars had been her place of power. If she was at all like other technomages, Walkyra would have had an extensive private lab and her own probe network. Galen wondered if she'd speak with him about Mars and what really happened. He moved to contact Walkyra, until he saw her status- Missing, Presumed dead. She'd never showed up when the Circle commanded the Order into hiding. The last edit by… Herazade. Of course, that woman's tendrils extended into everything it seemed. Considering, she was also the one Kell ordered to dismantle Walkyra's presence on Mars. What had she found on Mars? Had she left anything in tact? And for that matter, who would dare send agents after a technomage? Only the Shadows or their close agents had dared that.

Abruptly, his nose became overwhelmed with clashing scents. Like roses wrapped with leather. Other thoughts became impossible. Disassociating from Fed's sphere fully, he opened his eyes and had to squint because the lights had been turned up to max brightness.

Facing the Mary and Elvis painting, sopping wet, Fed stood barebacked, a towel wrapped around his waist. A cologne bottle tipped in the air, splashed a puddle on his open palm which he transferred to his neck and beard with pats. Astonished, Galen wondered how could he miss hearing Fed not just enter, but also take a shower. Mentally he added sneaky to the list of Fed's characteristics.

When the bottle corked itself and floated back to the shelf, Fed twirled about to catch Galen staring.

In a husky voice, Fed said, "After all these years, to finally have you in my bed." His eyebrows danced at Galen who krinkled his nose in distaste. Of course, he joked, sexualized the encounter. In this way, Fed was still Fed.

Frowning Galen said, "Don't start because if this excites you," Galen indicated at himself reclining on Fed's bed, "Then you have sunk far beyond my ability and especially desire to help."

Fed threw his head back in a hearty laugh. Energized, Fed piped up, "Good morning! Your Captain wanted us to attend some time wasting morning briefing."

Matthew must still be anxious Galen reflected as he said, "When does it start?"

"Oh, in about 5 minutes." Galen grunted in annoyance, watching Fed take his time. Clearly Fed had no intention of getting there on time. Sitting up, Galen tiredly swung his legs over the side and out of the bunk not excited by the prospect of an early morning meeting either.

"This," Galen held up Fed's ball, formed a platform under it, nudging it up off his hand. "Contains, next to nothing of use about Vorlon."

He sent it hurtling at Fed, who snatched it out of the air, effortlessly.

"What number were you on?" Fed asked with a smirk, clearly quite happy with sharing these intimacies.

"21," said Galen feeling much less comfortable by the minute.

"Ooh, so close. Really Galen, it's not you to give up. Only a few … dozen more to go."

A wink from Fed and flick of his wrist, sent the ball zooming back. Galen reacted too slow. It would have hit him in the face, had the ball not abruptly stopped and hovered before Galen's nose. Galen grabbed it.

"Keep it." Fed said jovially. Galen slipped the thing in his pocket wondering if he could stand much more of it.

With a jesting smirk, Fed made his way to the pile of laundry. There he slid a pair of red briefs on under his towel. Galen silently thanked him for that small allowance to modesty. A step and turn like a dance move, Fed chucked his towel into the cabin's tiny bathroom on his way to the closet. With his back to Galen again, Fed fished in the overstuffed closet to find a pair of blue trousers with orange stripes zig-zagging up the sides.

"By the way, is there anything going on between you and Dureena?" Fed spoke at his clothes.

Galen almost swallowed his tongue. The sinking feeling pulled at his stomach like when his platform dipped too quickly. A quick flick of his will, and his tech helped him regain control of himself without Fed noticing his slip. Fed pulled out a red vest and yellow t-shirt, compared them to his pants, decided against it, and stuffed it away.

"Why do you ask?" Galen said on guard, lest he reveal himself. Next Fed plucked, from the clothing chaos, a puffy sleeved white dress shirt. Oddly having only one hand didn't seem to slow him down and even accelerated dressing with the rest- a jacket that matched his pants, socks covered in emojis, and leather boots. Last he stuffed his pockets with candy, from where Galen couldn't tell. The anxiety built in Galen as Fed delayed answering longer and longer.

When done, Fed turned back to face Galen. "Things went great with Dureena, well the second go-round anyway. Guess what? She's hitching a ride with me to Theta 49."

"You convinced her to travel with you?" Galen said not believing it.

Fed cheered himself, waving his stump around unselfconsciously. "Ya! But she reacted hard every time I mentioned you. Like … I mean if you two have a thing, I'll keep my distance, but if not… well," He flashed a sly grin. "You could come to. Mars will still be fucked up when …"

The air seemed to leave the room. No longer could he process Fed's chatter. Connections formed. A pattern became obvious. A puzzle, he didn't realize he'd been working on, had been solved. Its message revealed whole- Fed was manipulating him.

Elric would be disappointed in him for being slow. He'd forgotten the most basic, first step of the art of manipulation- Make sure you're not the one being manipulated.

The pieces fit together obviously now that he saw the whole. Since he arrived, Fed distracted him. Then figured out the two people on the Excalibur, Matthew and Dureena, that meant the most to him. Isolated both. And tried to use them to redirect his attention from … Fed didn't want him to go to Mars. Had he only used one of them, Galen might not have noticed, but approaching both tipped Galen off.

Other strands knitted themselves together. First, his discovery, no more like stumbling into three of his fellow technomages, Kane, Gwynn and Finian, investigating the Drakh still chafed. Especially that the Circle had not bothered to inform him. They'd made no secret they were let out of the hiding place at the Circle's behest, to probe the Drakh. Fortunately for him, Gwynn valued truth above all and didn't shy away from sharing everything they learned with him. He had wondered, if others mages had been sent forth from the hiding place and where? Now he suspected Mars another likely focus. And second, two years ago when he left the Order behind to find the cure for the plague, Fed secretly provided him with access to the Circle's network. It was how, Galen assumed, Fed tracked him to the Excalibur in the first place. (For when he helped Dr Chambers adapt the cure to humans and Dureena's people, Galen had furiously accessed the Circle's network.) Galen had assumed Fed's help sprung from their friendship. Now he couldn't be sure. It was another way to track Galen's pursuits and control what he knew. For a skilled hacker like Fed, it'd be easy to make the Circle's Mars probes look broken to Galen. Taken together meant, Galen was the maverick that the Circle deliberately shut out years ago.

When it rained it poured. More conclusions flowed forth. That was why Fed didn't care about the evidence he'd uncovered that pointed to others recreating their tech. They already knew. And probably placed an order. Were the bodies he discovered on the Scorpius base the Circle's doing? Galen shuddered. Was that why they didn't want to interfere with the plague? Because it would mean working against allies? Was it that bad? Galen's jaw and fists clenched.

Silently Galen cursed the universe for once again putting him in this position- to again have to fight a friend and maybe even the whole Circle. Until this point, he'd been an arrogant fool to underestimate Fed. No longer. Time to turn the tables.

"... So what'll it be Galen?" Fed finished his prattle.

First, Galen had to make sure he was right. A test. With precision and purpose, Galen rose from the bed. Upright with a grave stillness, they stood toe to toe. He activated his scanners and focused on his fellow technomage.

"That depends Federico." Galen said carefully.

Noticing the change, Fed shifted backwards. "Why does it feel like a laser is painting me before a hit?" Fed chortled, nervously. Galen patiently waited for Fed to break. "Okay I'll bite. Depends on what?"

"What is the Circle doing on Mars?"

Like a guillotine drop, the effect was immediate. Eyes-wide, nostril flare, mouth twitch, heart rate spike, frozen in place, pupil dilation. More than enough of the classic, caught in a lie, tells Elric taught him.

Got you, thought Galen. Then said wearily, "I'm not sure who the greater fool is here. You for manipulating me. Or me for underestimating you."

Song quotes:

* Strange Brew, by Cream

** Enter Sandman, by Metallica