#nectra

“Looks great, though,” said Zack.  “Sorry.”

“Hmm?”

A bright flash of light lit up the pit and Zack twirled his remaining pistol, hidden under a fold of his coat.  Nectra gasped and held up her hands as the light and the scent of ionization flooded the air around her.  The sounds of cheering Sthenites vanished, and she dropped the staff, not sure what was happening.

Silence ensued.

Carefully, Nectra lifted her eyes to look around.  Zack was gone.  She took a steadying breath and carefully looked up.  The Sthenites were gone, but she felt something brush away from her ears and down her back.  Alarmed, she jumped to the side, scooped up the scythe-charged staff, and twirled it toward the ground, stopping just before she realized that it was the same horribly dated green hat that Zack had tossed at her to wear.

She looked up again and listened carefully, hearing the distant murmured hisses and whistles of the Sthenites.  She picked up the hat, and noticed a small, folded piece of paper tucked into the devices inside.  She withdrew the paper, turned to walk to the shadows in the side of the pit that she’d entered from, but was surprised to see a lack of shade.  She filed away that oddity to consider later, and instead moved to Zack’s side of the pit while she unfolded the paper.

She read the short message, and her worried look shifted into a look of surprise, but it was quickly followed by a smile.  A sly grin stretched across her bat-like face, and with a surprising amount of grace she began to clamber up the side of the pit.

She reached the top and carefully looked about.  Some Sthenites were near the huts in the distance, but none seemed to be actively watching.  She had spotted guards on the gates of the city wall itself, and even a few hidden in the foliage around it, but the guards she’d seen were all focused outward and, more importantly, not upward.

She took some rapid, steadying breaths, scrambled over the edge of the pit, and moved to a mud-covered rock surrounded by scraggly shrubs.  She awkwardly sat between them, hoping she was out of view from any casual glances in her direction.  The wall of the city was just a short sprint away, but there were almost no good hiding places between there and her shrubbery.  She looked at the sickly sky and wished that she could fly straight up to the potentially poisonous clouds for cover, but only the most athletic of the shangmere could easily gain more than a few feet with their wings when not in low-gravity conditions, and only dedicated fliers could attain the bird-like grace that a true flight to the safety of the clouds would require.

She was, however, athletic… or at least agile… enough to scale the wall and drop to the other side if she could get to it.  Most of the Sthenites she could see were either unarmed, or only casually wielding the most basic of weaponry.  She assumed the guards on the wall were still there, but they’d be looking out into the jungle, naturally?  There was no way they were looking in, unless they were bored of the jungle, a possibility that Nectra dismissed as ridiculous due to the intrinsically interesting features of jungles.  Unfortunately, she was trying to get to the side that they were watching, but with a bit of luck she could make it to the foliage before they riddled her with spears or arrows or throwing knives or whatever the guards might have had on hand.

Nectra took a pair of long breaths, took another quick look around, and inched out of her hiding space between the rubbery bush and the boulders.  Free of the potential rustling that the bush might have caused, Nectra raced to the side of a small hit just at the base of the wall.

Some inquisitive trills from the distance suggested that she might’ve been spotted, but she didn’t hear any shouts.  Maybe she was misunderstanding the Sthenites, or perhaps they only thought they’d seen an animal, but either way she quietly stepped to the wall of stone surrounding the city.  She twirled the staff, bent her knees, and jumped.

The leap easily placed her over halfway up, and the wall’s rocks were rough enough that she could run up them with no issue, requiring only the faintest wing motions to maintain her balance.  In a moment she was on top of the wall, with a yellow-feathered and green-scaled Sthenite staring at her in shock.

Nectra shouted in surprise, twirled her staff, and struck the guard on the head with, she was thankful to notice, the end of the staff that didn’t have a glowing blade of energy emerging from it.  The guard fell back, hit the ground, and made a panicked whistling noise.

Nectra carefully watched the Sthenite, but it didn’t move.  She reached forward to check to see if the creature was still alive, but she heard confused whistles and trills from elsewhere on the wall.  She panicked, jumped, opened her wings, and gracefully flew toward the nearby trees.  Even if she was spotted by someone on the wall now, or by a scout hiding in the underbrush, she could keep ahead if she just stayed high and hidden.

Nectra banked to the right to move behind a tree, and flew headfirst into a series of tethers and cords.  The green and brown strands disconnected from the branches they’d affixed to, snapped down, and wrapped themselves around the Sthenite.  Nectra looked around frantically, not sure what was happening, as the net that had ensnared her began swaying back and forth.

Before she could slash the cords with her scythe, a hand grabbed the net, steadied it, and turned it.  Nectra found herself hanging upside-down and staring into the face of a green-skinned, not-quite-insectile creature with large eyes who was wearing a simple tunic and smiling genially.

“You are Nectra, yes?”

“Ye-”

“Of course you are.  It’s a pleasure to meet you.  I was beginning to think that I had my schedule wrong.  But if you know what you’re doing, the tea here is never wrong.”

“What?”

“I’m sorry, I believe I have you at a disadvantage.  My name is Vox Cul-Dar, and we have a mutual friend named Zack Gamma.”

“You’re a friend of Zack’s?”

“The Suzerain grants you welcome.”

Zack nodded, trying to avoid the irate looks that Chala was shooting at him.  She was translating for the Suzerain during the Sthenite’s closing statements at the conclusion of his trial, but he could tell that Chala had more to say after she was done relaying the official’s words.

“You are free to move between any encampment that recognizes the leadership of the Suzerain, and afforded the protection and hospitality due any of the true people of this world.  Welcome, Tzak, Starprey no more.”

The Suzerain finished speaking well before Chala did as she focused on translating, and the crowd of Sthenites reacted to the Suzerain’s statement well before Zack heard it in its entirety, with most hissing, whistling, and chattering excitedly to each other.  He took a deep breath as he felt a single threat to his life suddenly nullified.  He instantly regretted the inhalation as the moving air in the back of the throat triggered his cough again.

The Suzerain nodded approvingly and turned to leave, as did many of the other Sthenites who had gathered before the stage.  Zack watched the majority of the Sthenites depart and quickly jumped to his feet.  He didn’t have much time left in the head start that Fletch had granted him, and that was assuming he’d been keeping time correctly and that Fletch would honor her end of the deal.

He walked toward the perimeter of the camp, and moved to its outer wall, nodding to the two massive snakes who began pushing the boulder away from the way out of the camp.

“No!  You don’t leave yet, Gamma!”

Zack winced.  The boulders weren’t far enough apart yet.  He couldn’t dive forward and race into the jungle.  He turned around, saw the incoming fist, and nearly avoided Chala’s punch.  He fell backward from the impact, tripped over his own shoes, and landed on the ground.  Nearby Sthenites who had been chattering excitedly had begun whistling and murmuring nervously at the sight of the two human-Sthenites suddenly engaged in an altercation, and the two by the door paused, wondering if their services were still needed.  Zack waved to them to continue as Chala pulled the bow off of her back and aimed it at him.

“How could you, Gamma?  What you did there-”

“Look, if you’re worried about me shooting Nectra-”

“No!  You didn’t shoot Nectra.  I’ve seen that energy burst before.”

“Thought you might’ve,” he said, slowly inching back to his feet and massaging his chin.

“That was the Oborosian Stone!”

“Excuse me?” said Zack.

“The Fact.  Don’t tell me you don’t know what it does.  This whole thing… this whole set up, you and Nectra were trying to steal it right from under my nose!”

“No!” said Zack.  “Look, I’m sorry, but when I figured out what the stone did, I realized-”

“And you thought you could mask it with your guns.  The Sthenites might know pistols, but you’d guess they don’t know what yours look like on the different settings.”

“Right,” said Zack.  “You’re right about that.  But only that.  Look, I’m not trying to steal anything.  You can have it back, even.”

“I can?”

Chala lowered her bow, but kept rolling her finger around an arrow.  Zack watched the weapons carefully.

“Sure!” said Zack.  “Look, when I figured out what it did, it was an accident.  Tossed me back a few minutes in time, only shifting my position a little.  I had… I had literally no idea what was happening until I saw the Sthenites carrying me back to the hut where they were keeping me.”

Chala looked at Zack uncertainly, but still accusingly.

“How did you keep it from the Sthenites?  The Phantom Matador had it.”

“I lifted it off him when Nectra and I were moving his body through the jungle.  Hid it in my hat, which would be a good hiding place even if it wasn’t teched out.  A good smuggler always keeps a false top in those things, at the very least.”

“So you had the Fact… you recognized it while moving the Matador… hid it in your hat where no one thought to look for it… and then figured out it was the Orobosian Stone?”

“Well, I didn’t know it’s name,” said Zack.  “I recognized it as a Fact initially and wondered what it was, then I just… look, you hear about time travel in stories all the time, and I was stunned to realize the Fact allowed it, but I couldn’t pass up using it.  I wasn’t gonna kill Nectra… and frankly, I’m glad I wasn’t planning on it, the state I’m in.  But I sure wasn’t gonna let her kill me either.  This was an out.”

“You should have told me, Zack.”

“I couldn’t!  You might have thought it was cheating, and you’re a Sthenite.”

“And you don’t think it was cheating?”

“It was guile.  I brought the real murderer to justice here, and got the nod of approval from the Suzerain, who just needed an out herself, as you put it.  I think the Suzerain, and the weird hallucinated snake-person who talked to me, would both be fine with this.”

Chala shook her head.

“You should’ve told me, Zack.  I wasn’t done studying the Orobosian Stone, but I’ve figured out a lot.  Plus, a Virellium energy wave is required to kickstart the Fact.  If she hadn’t been wielding that scythe of hers when she activated it, I don’t think it would’ve worked for her.”

Zack blinked and rethought the last moments of the trial, considering how high he’d turned the damage on his Purcellian Strikers to help sell the show.  He briefly considered Nectra’s last moment being a realization of betrayal and quickly pushed that thought from his mind.

“You’re right,” he said.  “I should’ve mentioned something to you.  So… fellow Sthenite, will you help me track down Nectra?  I left a note for her in my hat, but I don’t know if she’ll find it, and even if she doesn’t a smart assassin like her’ll probably be just outside waiting for us, but no sense making her wait too long.”

“Especially since she’s Starprey.”

“Seriously?”

Zack wiped the sweat from his brow and looked over the array of daggers, spears, and swords before him, barely suppressing a cough.  He could tell from the cloth of woven reeds that these were wrapped in that the Sthenites kept these weapons with care, but none of them truly felt appropriate for the situation.

“And the Purcellian Strikers are definitely out, then?”

“They’re only permissible if your competitor agrees to it,” said Chala.  “And if your competitor has a suitably comparable weapon.  Nectra doesn’t have a gun.”

“I’m telling you, she doesn’t need one,” said Zack.  “Her staff is deadly, and I might die out there otherwise.”

“There are plenty of staves and cudgels here that you could take,” said Chala, gesturing to another rolled up parcel of woven reeds.  “I think there’s one not unlike a shillelagh from Earth over there, actually, it might even be superior to her staff, weapon-wise.”

“Her staff can turn into a virellium-powered energy-scythe!”

“So you say,” said Chala, unrolling the new parcel and withdrawing a sturdy looking branch.  “For what it’s worth, this is a legendary item that the Sthenites believe to contain magical properties.  You won’t need to escape from your hut again to go looking for better weapons.”

“I’d rather use my strikers,” said Zack.  “If she has a weapon she’s comfortable with, then I should have one as well.  And I didn’t escape.”

“Fine, but pick another weapon anyway in case the Sthenites don’t let you use them.  And you might not call it an escape, but when you get out without the guards seeing you I don’t think the Sthenites will know what else to call it.”

Zack sighed and looked over the options.  One dagger in particular seemed dangerous enough to deal actual damage while also being simple enough for him to use.  It was a hard, red substance not unlike chitin, and bent at the tip so that it was almost a sickle.  He picked it up, and felt its weight.

“What can you tell me about this one?”

“It’s made from one of the mandibles of a threzh, a kind of cantankerously territorial plant creature.  If it still has any of its poison in it, that could be a useful counter to a fast-moving energy scythe.”

“What’s the poison do?”

“A threzh can use it to slow or weaken its prey, sometimes fully paralyzing a creature for hours to make it easy to drag the prey back out of its territory.  The Sthenites would only leave this weapon here if they thought it still had some of its kick, but this isn’t the first ritual duel it’s been available for.  It’d probably slow down a person’s metabolism, at least, and make them slower.”

“That might give me an edge where a speed-freak like Nectra’s concerned,” said Zack.  “I’ll take it.  But I still want to use my blasters.”

“Great,” said Chala.  “Hold onto them.  I’ll make sure that Chala’s preparations are going well as well.  If she’s using her staff, that might give you grounds to use your own weapon of choice.  And practice with it a little instead of your pistols, it smells light lightning in here.”

“Wonderful.  And I will.”

Chala turned to the door but stopped at the frame.

“So… are you really going to kill Nectra?”

“Maybe,” said Zack.  “I don’t want to.  I don’t think she wants to kill me either, but she was definitely willing to not too long ago.  You’re one of the Sthenites yourself since you endured your own trial, right?  Do you know of any such trials by combat ending peacefully?”

“No,” she said, stepping through the door.  “Good luck, Gamma.”

***

“You look surprisingly relaxed.”

Nectra’s massive eyes fully opened without, it seemed, any transitional time from being fully closed.  Chala mostly succeeded in not flinching as she gestured to the two pillars of stacked rocks in Nectra’s guarded hut.  The shangmere herself was hanging upside down, using her feet to clutch the staff that stretched between the miniature towers.  Nectra’s mouth stretched into an alarming smile, one almost made less disconcerting by being flipped.

“Thanks!” said Chala.  “I’m trying to meditate before killing Gamma.”

“That answers that, then.”

“Answers what?”  Chala’s wings opened and beat once, flipping her upright and letting her perch on the staff.

“I wasn’t sure if you were actually planning on killing Zack.”

“I don’t think I have a choice,” said Chala, her smile crashing into a morose frown.  “The Sthenites will kill him anyway if I don’t… and while I’m not happy with blood on my hands I have to admit that this was what I wanted to do anyway when I first started hunting him.  And sure, Zack said he could help reopen my legal case using evidence gathered here on Mandrake, but if I kill him I wouldn’t need that anyway and now I just wish I hadn’t made friends with him first.”

Nectra stood, stretched out her arms and wings, and fell back.  Chala gasped, but realized that the shangmere was falling slower than a human would, and that she was falling onto the bed of reeds that the Sthenites had given Nectra to use when they remanded her to the hut.  Chala watched Nectra lie motionless for a few moments before she sighed, rolled onto her side, and pulled one of her wings over her face like a blanket.

“This shouldn’t be so complicated.  Or… actually, it should be complicated.  I like complicated.  I can work with complicated.  This shouldn’t be so simple and horrible.  The Sthenites have awful customs if this is what they make people do, just awful.  If I kill Zack, do you think he’ll be mad at me?”

Chala didn’t mentally stumble over the question, but felt like it was a question that should cause stumbling.  She walked to the mat between the rock pillars and knelt by the bat-like alien.

“No,” she said.  “I don’t think he’d be mad at you for killing him.  He’d probably prefer the alternative, but he understands how delicate the situation is.  He’s constructed a situation where a Suzerain might even be able to step in to prevent a trial from being completed.  With a different Suzerain who had more support from the different tribes, that might even be a remote possibility.”

Nectra flapped her wing back into place and sat upright.

“I guess we’ll just have to cross that road when we come to it.  Thanks for not saying anything about claws earlier.”

“What?”

“When I talked about getting blood on my hands.  I’ve used that expression before… sometimes I have humans stop expressions I’m making where I talk about hands, saying I should use claws instead.  I love human expressions, though.  And that expression involves hands.”

“You don’t exactly have claws, either,” said Chala.  “They’re a bit pointier than human hands, but they’re definitely hands.”

“I know, right?” said Nectra.  “Though I sorta do if you count my feet.”

“Those aren’t really-”

“Nah, my feet have claws.  They’re really good for catching fish.”

“I-”

“Like, amazing.  I’m great at catching fish.  Fishing for humans is so slow, they just get in boats and wait for ages forgetting that the point is catching fish, thinking that waiting in a boat is the point, and I normally really like how humans do things, but catching fish is supposed to be active.  Fly over the water, wait to see the ripples, splash in, and bam!  Lunch.  And, yes, I know that some humans hunt fish with spears, but there’s still a lot of waiting involved in that even if it’s more proactive.  And don’t get me started on humans who fish with nets.”

Chala nodded, following the conversation flow.

“The Sthenites prefer hunting the native fish equivalent with spears.  A few tribes use nets.  Some just slither into the water to see what they can grab with their bare hands.”

“Ooh, now that’s nice…  I couldn’t do that.  I don’t see underwater very well if I’m actually under the water.”

“Speaking of nets and spears, though, I’m supposed to ask what sort of weapon you intend to use for the trial?”

Nectra pointed at the staff stretched between the rock pillars over Chala’s head.  Chala glanced back up at it.

“Because there are plenty of weapons we can also offer-”

Nectra shook her head and pointed at the staff again.

“My staff can turn into a scythe around Zack.  An energy scythe.  Why would I use anything else?”

“Are scythes actually good as weaponry?”

“They’re better than good,” said Chala.  “They’re awesome and cool as weaponry.”

“But are they capable?”

“Look, I’m using the scythe.  Even if for some crazy reason a scythe wasn’t a good weapon, it can also be a staff which is also an amazing weapon, plus Zack is scared to death of this thing.  You should see the look on his face whenever I activate it.”

“Zack feels there’s a disparity here, and that he should be permitted to use his pistols if you get to use your staff.”

“That seems fair,” said Nectra.

“For him to have a ranged weapon while you only have-”

“My awesome scythe?  Of course it’s fair.  I’m a little insulted by this anti-scythe attitude you’ve got.”

“Fair enough,” said Chala.  “If there’s nothing else, I’ll take my leave now.  Good luck prepping for the fight.  Someone will be along shortly to deliver some fruit and… if you’re interested… I can have them include some fish as well.”

“Oh, yes, please,” said Nectra, rising to her feet and leaping back to her perch on the staff.  “I’d love to give some of the local food a try.”

Chala nodded and walked out while Nectra clutched the staff with her feet, rolled forward, and resumed her attempts at meditation.

***

“Where is it?”

The Phantom Matador lifted his head and turned to look back, expertly revealing only his eye as Chala entered his hut.  The two Sthenite guards rose to a firmer attention and lifted their spears at the sight of the new company, though the humans ignored them.  The Matador turned back to resume looking at his cell wall, tapping his foot and creating a gentle clink as the wrought-iron manacle at his leg jingled.

“I don’t know what you mean,” he said, his sonorous voice echoing through the room, theatrically enhanced by either natural skill, his deceptive psychic abilities, or some quirk of the acoustics of the hut.  “I do, however, see that you have my hat and my mask.”

“These are to trade.  I give these to you, and you tell me what I need to get it back.”

“I think I agree… but sincerely, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“The Oborosian Stone,” said Chala.  “The Fact.  You broke into my hut and stole it, Starprey.”

“Oh, that was your hut?  I’m sorry, I should have known.  Knick-knacks from Veskid and articles of clothing not suited for the serpentine form, and you being the only humanoid I’ve seen here apart from Gamma and myself should have made it obvious.”

“Now that you know what it is, how about that deal?”

The Matador tapped his foot again and sighed.

“I would agree, but I can not help you.  I don’t have it.”

“Then where did you hide it?”

“I didn’t.  The… Oborosian Stone?  The Fact wasn’t on my person when I woke.  I assumed that, like my hat and mask, it had been taken by Gamma.”

“He didn’t take those,” said Chala.  “He’d passed out by the time the Sthenites located him.  They removed your hat and mask.”

“Then they have the Fact.  Or Gamma does.  Or the bat.”

“Nectra.”

“So she told you her name.  She may be a brilliant researcher, but she knows nothing of maintaining mystique.”

“She knows it’s childish and accomplishes nothing.”

“It’s an art.  I won’t be appreciated in my time.  Now… considering that I don’t have what you want, and don’t know where it is, I have no more to offer you.  Might I have them back as a matter of courtesy?”

“Why?  Zack seemed interested in knowing who you are.”

“You mean he still hasn’t come to see me?” said the Matador, turning to look at Chala.  She’d already seen his face when the mask had been removed, but she was still struck by how memorably average he looked.  His face didn’t quite match the back of his head, with neither appearing strange except in relation to each other.  She considered the possibility that he was using his psychic abilities to confuse something about his appearance in her mind, but dismissed the level of effect it might have.

“No,” she said.  “Like I said, he passed out after you did.  You woke up before he did.  He’s not had time.”

“Not even to gloat?”

“He’s on the run from someone.”

“Nectra, yes, but I thought they were patching things up.”

Chala coughed, not sure what to say to that.

“Wait… are you telling me there’s someone else after him?  Even here on Mandrake?  That poor man… he’s blessed with an inordinate amount of bad luck.”

“That might be true,” she said.  “I don’t know many details myself, only that he’s in a hurry and Nectra’s on his side.  He and she will be fighting to the death soon, and then he has to leave.”

“I feel that I’ve missed something,” he said.  “Please explain.  I still haven’t picked up on the finer points of the language, and I doubt my wardens would be talkative even if I had, but under what circumstances do people on the same side fight to the death?”

“No,” she said.  “You don’t need to know anything while you wait for your trial.  Which will begin shortly after Zack’s concludes.”

“I see,” he said.  “Then we have little more to discuss.  Except for… my hat and mask?”

“Why do you need it on a world where I already know what you look like and literally no one else cares?”

“It’s an art form,” he said.  “You’ll appreciate it after my time.  I’d ask for my sword to complete the picture, but as I understand it I’m being tried as a criminal, so that might not be reasonable.”

Chala narrowed her eyes but cautiously folded the mask and set it into the hat before tossing the wide-brimmed sombrero cordobés to the prisoner.  He smiled, bowed his head, and extended the hat forward with his hand as if having just doffed it.

Zack smelled oatmeal that came with a healthy portion of cinnamon, milk, and honey, a reminder that every day could be sweet.  He also smelled the black coffee, a blackness like the cold, unfeeling emptiness of space, or like the soot or mud that covered dumpsters in back alleys.  Coffee that black would be bitter and real, a reminder that if you forced yourself to like something that tasted awful, the side benefits could help you to last until the next breakfast where there’d be more coffee.

His eyes fluttered open, and the strange thatching of mud and leaves reminded him that he wasn’t home.  His ceiling didn’t look like that.  He was struck with the realization that he never truly thought about what his ceiling looked like, but he knew it wasn’t what was above him.

“He’s up!” shouted a voice.  Zack winced at the noise and looked across the room, gasping in shock at the gangly, inhuman being before him before he remembered Nectra.  The shangmere stepped across the hut, stepping away from a Sthenite he didn’t recognie, and a human that he groggily recognized as Chala.

Nectra moved in front of him and he shook his head.

“Hey.  I’m sorry, I… how’d I get here?”

“The Sthenites carried you,” said Nectra.  “And The Phantom Matador.”

“She was very resourceful,” said Chala, stepping forward.  “She encountered the guards who’d gone to facilitate your trial and the hunters who’d been sent to make sure you didn’t try running away.  They recognized her from your description, and gave chase, and pursued her… right to you, where she quickly surrendered.  They found me and brought me into the action so that I could translate.”

The orange-scaled Sthenite watched the conversation between the three aliens and slithered out.  Zack followed its departure but turned back to Chala.

“Excellent,” said Zack.  “So, the Matador is…?”

“In the slammer!” said Nectra.  “The, uh… hokey?”

“Do you mean pokey?” asked Chala.

“Probably,” said Nectra.  “He wasn’t up when we left.”

“That’s good,” said Zack.  He leaned back into the cot and almost started relaxing before a sobering thought anchored his mind back in reality.

“How long was I out?  Wait, why was I out?”

“The healer wasn’t sure,” said Chala.  “But you’re sick.  I wasn’t sure if we could break you out of it, but Nectra suggested familiar smells.”

“Humans like familiar smells,” Nectra said, nodding.

“Right,” said Chala.  “So I tried making some coffee, and getting some instant oatmeal from my supplies cooking.  I’ve not broken into that box in a while since I got used to the local food.  Up for a bite?”

“Maybe,” said Zack.  “But how long was I out?”

“About three hours,” said Nectra.  “Don’t worry, though.  We’ve still got plenty of time to stay ahead of Fletch.”

“I hope you’re right,” said Zack.  “We’ll have to leave pretty quickly now.”

“You can’t,” said Chala, concerned.  Zack tilted his head.

“Why?” he asked.

“You’ve got a trial to finish,” she said.

“We don’t have time for that,” said Nectra.  “There’s an implacable assassin who means to see him dead, and she’ll be tracking him relentlessly.  Zack’s only chance is to run while he can!”

“No, she’s right,” said Zack.

“What?  Why?”

“I met someone in the caves when the trial first started,” said Zack.  “But… the trial didn’t finish.  I’ve gotta finish the trial, otherwise the Sthenites’ll kill me.  I might be able to evade Fletch on this world, but I can’t evade the Sthenites.  Not for as long, at least.  And I’d rather have them as friends than as enemies.”

Nectra frowned and looked to the door.  After a moment she sighed, walked to the door’s frame, and picked up her staff.

“I guess I’ll need this after all,” said Nectra.

“Why?” asked Zack.

“Not much further,” said Nectra, looking over the scanner while perched in the branch of a tree, holding her staff for balance.  “He’s only a few hundred yards away.”

“He’s slowing down, then,” said Zack, catching up to the tree and shaking the latest clump of dirt off of his shoe.  “Not sure what’ll happen when he decides he’s found a defensible position.  I don’t think he likes the idea of being cornered.  Hopefully he’ll make a mistake.”

“Is that common?” asked Nectra.  “Sorry, I mean… are the mistakes common? I assume that manhunts don’t happen often.  Do they?  I mean, the DMA has a pretty big percentage of its operations dedicated to it, so I suppose they might.  But I was asking about people making mistakes.”

“Well-”

“When they’re cornered.  Mistakes when they’re cornered.  People make mistakes all the time.”

“They make more when they’re under pressure, and this place is just the kind of pressure cooker that we need.  He’s smart, though.  He’s not gonna run until he’s exhausted, unless we get more luck than we deserve down here.”

“Ooh, I like that,” said Nectra.  “You need to say something like that when you find him.”

“Don’t know about that.  Talking’s one of the things he does best, and it gives him an edge.  I’ll just let my strikers do the talking.”

“Right, something like that,” said Nectra, nodding eagerly.  “In fact… I don’t have anything that could record us catching him.  But maybe if I rewire the tracker…”

“Nectra?  We’re on a timetable here.”

Nectra fixed a piercing gaze at Zack, and he could almost feel the waves of focus boring into him.  Her too-wide mouth broke into a toothy smile as her eyes widened.

“Right!  Right, sorry, I’m new to this.  Let’s go… this way, he’s this way…”

Nectra jumped from her branch and flew forward, vanishing into the trees.  Zack nodded and followed.

***

The Phantom Matador held the hilt of his deactivated energy blade, pushing his back up against the rocky outcropping.  He’d actually seen Nectra leaping between trees behind him at one point; his pursuers were closing in.  He took a deep breath and readied himself for the great dance, reaching out with his mind to locate all of the rocks and boulders in the area.  It would be an inelegant end to his relationship with the detective, and likely with Nectra as well if it came to that, but he was prepared.

A tiny dart lanced from the foliage and connected with his throat.  The Phantom Matador gasped, felt his knees weaken, and fell to his knees.  His vision blurred, but he could see the leaves of the bushes part.  A figure in a blue cysuit emerged.  The cysuit was built for stealth, and the simple reticle over her eye told him everything he needed to know even before he realized that she was holding a rifle.  He started reaching for the control on his sword, but the woman was too fast and pinned his arm to the stone behind him.

“You’re lucky I’m in a good mood,” she said.  “It’s always tempting to see how people do when they’re woozy and trying to operate dangerous equipment.  It’ll be easier to move you if you’ve got both of your arms and legs, though.”

“Who… how-”

“Phantom Matador, I’m an operative of the Desperate Measures Agency, and I’m prepared to offer you leniency.  I’ve been tracking you for some time now… it’s hard to know where you actually are, but my scanners can pick up petrakinetic frequencies.  If you hadn’t just tried to use that fancy brain of yours, I probably would’ve waited all night without knowing that it was you.”

“But… but they-”

Zack Gamma slowly turned his head, feeling the shifting of the sand under and around him.  The dense foliage of the jungle surrounding the pit of quicksand gave ample hiding places for The Phantom Matador, and coupled with the psychic ventriloquism in play there was no way to tell where the Matador had gone, or if he had even been anywhere nearby when the rock caused Zack to jump into danger.

Irksome though it was, Zack found his mind racing over exactly what the Soul Survivor predicted.  If he relaxed, wouldn’t he float on top of the sand?  Or was that just a myth?  No, it couldn’t be a myth.  Struggling was what made you sink faster, so being calm was the way to go.  He’d read reports of dust and sand on some worlds that could make people submerge faster than water, but this quicksand was acting more like the quicksand and mud pits of deserts and jungles more commonly seen across known space.  It was probably fed by an underground spring, or from some other water source that was present in the jungle.

It was even possible that if he sank low enough, his feet would touch the bottom and he could wade out.  He didn’t want to risk that, though; a little more than a foot of sinking and is nose would be below sand level.

“Anyone out there?” he yelled.  “Matty?  Mat-Mat?  Phantom Matador?  …if you don’t like being called Mat, you should give me a name that doesn’t sound so pretentious!  …Hello?  Anyone?”

“Here!  I’m here.  Sorry, should I… should I come out now?”

“Nectra?  Yeah, yeah, come out.”

The shangmere dropped from the canopy and landed at the edge of the pool, her wings opening at the end of the drop to catch just enough air to allow her stop to be painless.  She twirled her staff and held it out for Zack to grab.

“Sorry,” she said.  “Sorry, you said you wanted to talk to him yourself, I didn’t know if I should step in if you weren’t ready…”

“No, this is great,” he said.  “Perfect timing.  I think he’s gone.”

“Can’t you check the tracker?”

Zack looked at his right hand, or rather the sand that obscured his right hand.  After a moment’s effort he lifted his hand out of the sand and demonstrated the sand-logged tracker, a motion that caused him to sink a little deeper.

“I might not’ve given it a fair shake, but I assumed it wouldn’t get me very far.”

“Ooh.  Yes.  You might be right.  I’ll take a look at it after we get you out of there.  Grab the staff.”

Zack nodded and reached for the proffered staff with his left hand, but Nectra quickly pulled it back.

“Wait!  Hang on.”

Zack slowly pulled his hand back while Nectra observed the staff.  After a quick perusal she rotated the staff ninety degrees and held the staff out again.

“Okay, now.”

“What’s different now?” he said, reaching his hand out.  He touched the base of the staff and an iridescent blade of Virellium force energy emerged from the other end of the staff, cutting up and away from where Nectra thanks to how she was holding it.

“Oh, I see.  Yeah, that makes sense.”

“Yeah, I didn’t want to, uh… cut my hand.”

“Right,” said Zack.  “So.”

“Sooo…”

“Pull me out?”

“Right!” she said, slowly pulling the staff.  Zack felt the quicksand flow around him as Nectra pulled the staff closer and, in just moments, his foot brushed the base of the pit at the edge.  He reached for the solid ground, pulled himself out, and crawled onto the comparatively firmer soil, feeling itchy and sandy and damp.  He took a few deep breaths, turned over, and looked at the trees overhead.  His vision was soon blocked by Nectra, moving into his eyesight, and holding up a finger.

“Could I, uh… take a look at the tracker?”

“Right,” said Zack, handing it to her.  “Sorry, forgot about that.”

“No problem,” she said, taking it and dusting off the sand.  “It’s probably fine, but I should make sure.  It seemed to work pretty well!”

“Yeah,” said Zack.  “I couldn’t pin him down, but I could keep him close.  If he hadn’t got the drop on me with that boulder, I wouldn’t have fallen into the sand.”

“Hmm… you’re okay, right?”

“Apart from the jungle deathtrap I just avoided?”

“The Phantom Matador said that you were slower… and I’ve heard you cough since you started tracking him, it doesn’t sound good, I think.”

“Yeah, I’m fine.  Just been a little woozy the last day or two.  Ol’ Matty’s tryin’ to get in my head.  Plus he’s crazy.”

“Heh, yeah, he’s crazy,” said Nectra.  “He said a lot of things.  Lots of crazy, crazy things.”

She popped open the back of the tracker and started looking over the inner workings of the device while she talked.

“Yeah,” said Zack.  “I think he’s feeling desperate.  He’s used to being on the run, but he’s not used to it in this kind of place, I think.”

“Right,” said Nectra.  “So, he’s getting desperate and he’s a good talker, so he’s saying anything he can think of to stall us.”

“Sure,” said Zack.  “Yeah, that’s it.”

“I think we can really just ignore anything he’s saying today, honestly.  It’s probably not important.”

“Probably,” said Zack.  “And keep that in mind going forward.  Even if some of what he said back there was true, he was saying it to rattle me.  Maybe to rattle you if he thought you were listening.  Telling the truth with the wrong context can be pretty damaging, and I think that’s what he’s goin’ for.”

“Right,” said Nectra.  “Good point.  So what he said was, uh… yeah.”

Zack pushed his way through the tree branches and vines, keeping an eye on those places in the vibrant foliage where it seemed likely that someone else had already stepped through them, bending the vegetation out of place.  He wasn’t sure what the extent of the Phantom Matador’s powers were, but he was working on the assumption that the Matador couldn’t actually teleport.  While not unheard of, such capabilities were well beyond the standard feats of psychic ability.  Some suggested that the reason for the rarity was that governments were quick to detect those who were gifted with teleportation and arranged for such people to quietly disappear into various medical experiments or spy training groups, but such people also claimed to have seen things like the Void Pilgrim.  Zack, while willing to accept a lot as possible, chose not to believe such theories without actual evidence.

“You’re dedicated.  I will concede that much.”

Zack stopped and looked behind him.  Was there something in the tree branch?  A humanoid figure, obscured by the shadows, was standing overhead.  Zack looked at the tracker in his hand, and the direction of the Phantom Matador was ahead of him, not behind.

“Not much else to do,” said Zack.  He coughed, and kept following the faint traces of the trail, keeping his eyes on the direction suggested by the tracking device.

“I don’t know what you told Nectra,” said the Phantom Matador, his voice coming from ahead now.  “But I don’t approve.  If she doesn’t kill you, she returns to a life of imprisonment.”

“I don’t like her tryin’ to bump me off,” said Zack.  He wiped his brow and took a long look at the screen of the tracker, just to make sure it was lining up with what he expected.

“I don’t mean to say that you should surrender yourself to her.  I am an advocate of escape, after all.  But leading her to the mistaken belief that you can offer her another way out of her situation?  Your false hope will do more harm than good as she struggles against the faceless corporations and spineless bureaucrats who wield all the power.”

“Did good when I did it before,” Zack said, quietly.  He stopped moving forward to catch his breath.  The voice sounded like it was coming from overhead and forward.  Would this be another trick of psychic ventriloquism, or was the Phantom Matador actually waiting in a tree?

A boulder arced through the underbrush.  Zack gasped, stumbled backward, and narrowly avoided the rocky missile as it collided into a tree, sticking into the spongy bark with a dull thud.

“You’re slow,” said the Matador’s voice.  “Slower than when we dueled at the hotel.”

“Didn’t you peg me then?” asked Zack, clumsily getting back to his feet.

“I grazed you.  And you had two boulders to worry about.  Boulders that were moving faster.  Either you had a wonderful day then, or you’re having a dark day now.”

“Not as dark as you’re about to have,” said Zack, continuing to follow the trail.  He kept his eyes and ears open for more incoming boulders, but it was hard to focus on his surroundings while keeping an eye on the trail and the tracker.

“She’s quite taken with you, you know.”

“Excuse me?” said Zack, grabbing an oddly angled branch that was blocking most of the path and stepping under it.

“Nectra.  I believe she’s enamored with you.  She hasn’t said so in so many words, but you should hear how she talks about you.  It makes your persuasion that you can help her all the more reprehensible, Zack.  Tell me, has she ever had a clear chance at ending your life where you were spared only through her hesitation?”

Zack stopped for a moment but shook his head and kept moving.

“She’s not cut out for being an assassin,” said Zack.  “That’s not something to be ashamed of.”

“Don’t dodge the evidence, Zack.  Like me, she’s a romantic.  She’s completely enthralled with humans and human culture.  And from what she’s said of you, you’re exactly the kind of tragic figure who fits into melodramatic tales of star-crossed lovers, at least in her eyes.  On the run from your previous employers, with a price on your head… and her being sent to murder you as the only way to prove her innocence and gain freedom… you can’t deny the dramatic appeal.  You don’t have a disfigured twin who might want to ruin your happiness out of spite, do you?”

“Yeah, but I turned him in for fraud and he’s still got three years on his sentence.  Makes visiting the parents awkward, but the bounty was nice.”

“I… can’t tell if you’re serious.”

“Buddy, I think you’re crazy about Nectra.  But even if you’re not, it doesn’t really change anything.  She’s still a rational… mostly rational scientist.  Might be a little loopy from trying to wrap her head around Virellium, but-”

Another rock launched from the brush to his side.  Zack jumped back, falling off the trail, and landing in a patch of soil softer than the rest.  His feet immediately sank to his ankles and, quickly, to just below his knees.  He tried to lift his foot out, but the motion only caused him to sink further.  His eyes grew wide as he turned to look at the boulder that landed at his side, seeing it slowly sinking along with him.

“I was right!  You’re definitely slower.  And not noticing as much from your surroundings as you should.  Are you feeling well?  I’m sorry, don’t worry about that.  I was delighted to find actual quicksand in this jungle.  You’re probably struggling to remember everything you’ve heard or read about it, and trying to remember which facts about quicksand are real, and which are just the product of poorly researched adventure movies, and trying to figure out how this alien soil would make it different, if it would make it different at all.”

“Say, buddy, what say you help me out of this?” said Zack, looking around for something he could grab onto to pull himself out of the patch.

“But why would I do that after I spent so long carving away all the spare vines and branches that might have provided a lifeline?  All that effort would have been for nothing.  And then you’d just try to catch me again.”

“No, no I can… not do that,” said Zack.  “I’ll give you a day’s head start.  Or… heck, I’d stop trying to catch you entirely, you’ll probably die on this planet anyway.”

Nectra jumped from branch to branch, using her wings and her staff to balance as she spiraled over the obstacles of the jungle floor.  Zack, following along, was getting mud in his shoes and manually pushing the thick vines and reeds of the terrain out of his way where he could while slowly climbing over or moving around the trees, fallen logs, and boulders where he couldn’t.  Nectra would often vanish while moving ahead, but would always either turn back or wait for Zack to catch up.

“Nectra, you’ve gotta stop moving so fast.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, looking down.  “We’re almost there.  I don’t want him to suspect anything.”

“I doubt he will at first.  Nectra, do you-”

“Wait… someone’s there, but it’s not him.”

“What?”

Without another word, Nectra jumped from the branch, opened her wings, and left Zack’s field of vision.  Zack waited a moment, sighed, and resumed wading through a tangled mesh of reeds.  Soon he pushed through and saw a comparatively open patch of jungle.  Nectra perched on a branch above, gesturing down quietly at a human who stood with a bow and arrow.

“Chala?”

She turned and looked in Zack’s direction.  She smiled, but looked anxious.

“Hello, Zack.  I’m sorry, I’ve ruined your trial, I think.  Or made it worse.”

“What?  What do you mean? How?”

“When you arranged the ploy to find Nectra, you thought this Phantom Matador would be nearby.  I decided to find him myself while you were still waiting for her to find you.  I circled a lot… but really there are only a few places in this area that someone might comfortably wait.  I found him.”

“Why did you do that?” he said.

“From everything they said about him, I guessed that he’d taken something from my forge.  And he did.  Only it’s not the stockpiled Virellium like I’d hoped, it was… he stole something else.”

“What was it?” asked Nectra.

Chala shouted, pulled her bow up, and shot an arrow straight toward Nectra.  Nectra screamed and fell backwards, avoiding the arrow but dropping off her branch.  She turned in the air and opened her wings, but not quickly enough to avoid slamming into the peaty soil.

Zack ran to Nectra, but the shangmere was already pushing herself up.  She looked at Zack and Chala, smiling sheepishly.  Chala, unprepared for the sudden appearance of shangmerian physiology, winced.

“Nectra, are you okay?”

“Sure, Zack,” she said.  “Just scraped.  Thanks, though.  I forget that humans don’t think in three dimensions most of the time.  Sorry!”

“Chala, this is Nectra.”

“Good meeting you?” she said.  “So I guess your hunter isn’t out to kill you, then?”

“She’s out to clear her name,” said Zack.  “And right now, she was helping me to find the Phantom Matador.”

“He was right here,” said Chala.  “He left when I shot an arrow at him.  Or… he didn’t leave so much as he faded.”

“He did that to you, too?” said Nectra.  “I thought it was just me starting to lose it.”

“I think he has a rare psychic ability that lets him cloud people’s minds,” said Zack.  “I’m not sure exactly what the extent of the ability is, but he’s had a lot of practice learning when and where to use it.  He might not’ve even been in the clearing when you shot the arrow at him, for all we know.  I think we need the answer to Nectra’s question, though.”

“Sure,” said Chala.  “Sorry about that arrow.”

“Oh, I’m fine,” said Nectra.  “What was it that he stole?”

“It was a Fact.”

“A fact?” said Nectra.  “Like… a true concept?”

“No, a machine.  They’re called Facts.”

“Oh,” said Zack.  “Oh!  Oh, I see… One of those… one of those things.”

“So, what is it?” asked Nectra.  “I’m afraid I still don’t know.”

“It’s short for Artifact,” said Zack.  “Bit of an ironic name to give something brand new.  I think that was their name when they were new, but that was a century or two ago I think.  They didn’t come from the Angelor Republic, though, right?  I was never really a history student.”

“No, you’re right,” said Chala.  “They came from a rare period of trade and information exchange between Glorien space and the Angelor Republic.  They were allegedly brand new devices.  We didn’t have any eyes or ears in Glorien space to let us know if they were legitimately new or not, but we had no reason to doubt it.”

“Then why call them Artifacts?” said Nectra.  “Doesn’t the word mean something left over or… evidence of something that used to be around?”

“I think the emphasis was more on the word Fact than Artifact,” said Zack.  “Artifact might’ve been a nod to them leaving the things around for us before they left and vanished into their own region of space again, though.”

“Right,” said Chala.  “In addition to being shorthand for Artifact, the Facts were items that did one definite, specific thing, and did them well.”

“That’s what I never got about it, honestly,” said Zack.  “We’ve got all sorts of things that only do one thing.”

“Yes, but most can be programmed to do more,” said Chala.

“Oh!” said Nectra.  “So, it’s a hardware issue instead of a software one?  Brilliant!”

“What is?” said Zack.

“Well, most devices are multi-purpose, even if they don’t look like it,” said Nectra.  “Almost anything with a computer chip, really.  Most things humans make use software, and that software can be upgraded or changed so that the computers can do different things, or do the same thing but better.  Software takes time and memory, though, and uses resources to load, read, and enact.  If something’s all hardware, it just does it automatically without any need to update anything.  My Virellium tracker is like that, actually.”

“It’s usually more expensive,” said Chala.  “To suit everyone’s needs, it’s easier to make generic computers that can have software instead of making very specific computer components that only do things one way.  Plus the obvious problem of being hardware focused is that if a product has a flaw, you can’t just fix it with a software upgrade.  If you come up with a better way of doing something, you can’t improve to the latest model without buying an all new system.  Still, fans of hardware have a lot of speed and ease of resource management going for them.  Glorien space allegedly had more of a hardware base, but generally as an artisanal practice rather than an industrial one.”

“So, what were you doing with one?” said Zack.

Chala took a breath.

“It’s what brought me to Mandrake.  I’d learned that one might have been in the possession of an industrialist who came here quite some time ago.  His ship never made it off the planet alive, though.  I found it in his old ship, but it was broken.  I’ve been trying to repair it ever since, and using the Virellium I’ve been gathering to power it whenever I think I’ve got another component working.”

“What’s it look like?” asked Zack.

“The base is like the lower end of an hourglass,” she said.  “The glass curves in on itself, though, and isn’t what I’d call… orientable, apart from the copper base beneath it.  Above the pinch, it sort of divides into two helically rising planes of glass surrounded by occasional copper plates.  All the electronic components connect to the copper.  I think the glass is there for conducting.”

“Glass doesn’t conduct electricity, though,” said Zack.

“It’ll conduct vibrations well enough, I bet,” said Nectra.

“Right… so, you’ve never been able to figure out what it does?”

“I’ve got some guesses,” said Chala.  “Nothing I’d feel safe publishing and staking a career in anthropology on, even with a stockpile of Virellium to take home.”

“How dense is the Virellium, by the way?” asked Nectra.  “I didn’t stop to check it out once I realized Zack was there.”

“You didn’t take any for yourself?” asked Zack.

“No, why would I?” asked Nectra.  “Finding you’s always been the important thing here.”

“It’s not purified, if that’s what you’re asking,” said Chala.  “It’s mostly tiny amounts bundled up in other substances or intermingled with other energies.  I’d say there’s enough for me to retire on, though.  It’d probably power a planet for a few weeks.”

“Incredible,” said Zack.  “So… this story time’s great, but it doesn’t get us any closer to finding The Phantom Matador.  We should pick up the trail again.”

“How?” said Chala.  “He could be anywhere by now.”

“We’ll track him down,” said Zack.  “Nectra knows where they’ve been crashing.  Between my skills and her knowledge and skills, I think we should be fine.”

Nectra smiled, her mouth stretching wide enough to make her teeth apparent to anyone watching.  Chala nodded.

“Okay,” Chala said.  “Okay, good plan.  I’ll pitch in, too.  You’re going to need my knowledge of the terrain.”

“Can we take it, though” asked Nectra.  “You live with these snake people, right?  And Zack couldn’t take their help before, when he and I came here.  It’s part of his trial or something, right?”

Zack rolled his eyes.

“I think catching the Phantom Matador before he causes more harm trumps that, Nectra,” he said.

“Actually… no, she’s right,” said Chala.

“What?”

“Seriously, Zack,” said Chala.  “If you were a fellow Sthenite, I could probably help you to at least track him down without anyone caring much.  But the Suzerain’s going to have to explain you very well to the other tribal leaders who don’t like us.  Two humans helping each other on trials breaks too many rules for her to smooth over without ordering your execution.  You’ll be fine without me.”

Zack cupped his hand over his face and thought.  Nectra curiously stepped in front of him to take a look before she looked to Chala questioningly.

“You’re right,” he said, finally.  “Which way’s your forge from here?”

“Northwest,” said Chala, pointing.

Zack looked up and followed Chala’s finger.  He nodded.

“Come on, Nectra.  Wish us luck, Chala.”

He turned to move through the jungle again, and Nectra spread her wings to leap into the trees.  Chala waved to the departing shangmere and human as they vanished from view.