“So where do we go from here?” Raven asked, rolling up her sleeping bag.

I shrugged. “I’m not sure yet. And don’t bother with the bag, we’re not staying.”

She put her hands on her hips. “And just where are we going to sleep?” she demanded.

I just chuckled. “I think we can do better than an old bedroll,” I told her. “Have any preferences?”

She thought about it for a moment. “What are my choices?”

“Anything you want,” I explained. “It’s all just an illusion, remember?”

“Oh… right,” she said carefully, “I’d almost forgot.” She gnawed on that, considering her options, before a sly grin appeared on her face. “How about someplace ritzy? You know, five-star room service, an incredible view, with plenty of bars and restaurants close by we can trash,” she laughed.

“I see some things haven’t changed,” I said wryly. “Hmm… have you ever been to Sydney?” I asked her.

Raven gave me a look. “You know I haven’t.”

“Right… sorry,” I grimaced, “my mistake. Well, it should fit the bill nicely. Besides, bar brawls are a hallowed tradition in Australia. You should have no problems fitting in,” I smiled.

She cocked her head. “Does it matter? You can change things around, right? You could plunk a mile-high hotel and casino on top of the North Pole if you wanted, couldn’t you? Or hell, put it on the Moon.” Her grin got even wider. “Now that sounds like fun.”

I winced. “We… avoid that,” I mumbled.

“Why? You telling me it’s too tough?” she snapped.

“No… no, it’s not about the difficulty,” I stammered, “and you’re right, one is no harder to create than another. It’s just…” My voice trailed off as I struggled to put what I was feeling into words. Finally, I took a deep breath.

“The Yīqún devastated Luna,” I whispered, “along with Earth and Mars. Among us Avatars, we prefer to focus on the good times, not remind ourselves of the bad. On Earth it’s easier to pretend it never happened, since it was Man’s home for so long. We can lose ourselves in the history of it, or in works of fiction, or even realms of our own imagination.” I sighed heavily. “But on Luna, or Mars… the tragedy gets a lot harder to ignore.”

Raven just snorted. “Wow. You guys are a mess.”

“Excuse me?” I bristled. It was bad enough I had to cart her around like excess baggage, but I’m not used to having simulacrums getting pissy. Well… unless it’s a simulation and there’s a sword in my hand, I mean. Having some counterfeit entity question my sanity bordered on the intolerable.

“You heard me,” she fired back. “I mean, look at you. You wrap yourselves up in these fantasy worlds, pretending everything’s fine, even though you fucking know better. Seriously, you created me, for God’s sake! What’s the matter, you can’t find a real woman? A real digital one, I mean, ‘cause a living, breathing, physical one won’t work, now, will it? Jesus, what the hell’s wrong with you?”

… Okay, that one hurt.

“I wouldn’t expect you to understand,” I growled. “You’re just a fake. You don’t know what it’s like to be human. No idea what we went through… what we’re still going through, even now. I created you to be my plaything, nothing more, so don’t sit there all smug and try to analyze me, because sister, you haven’t got the chops.”

I felt my fists clench at my sides, my chest rising and falling as I let the anger fill me. I wanted to smash her arrogant little face in and wipe that holier-than-thou smile right off her face. How dare she! Who the hell did she think she was?

Raven looked down at my fists and then back up at me. “You planning on hitting me?” she asked point-blank, taking a defensive stance. “Well, come on then… let’s see what you’ve got.” Her own fists came up as she glared at me, goading me to swing at her. Oh, I wanted to. I could feel the violence welling up inside, eagerly seeking an outlet. Two steps forward, and she’d be within easy reach.

And then, just as quickly as it came, I deflated. “Why are you doing this?” I asked her, shaking my head in confusion.

“I could say because someone needs to,” she retorted, her fists still at the ready. “If you’re any sign of what your clan is like, you guys seriously need a 12-step group and some sponsors. You’re all a bunch of Virtual Reality addicts, hiding out in Fantasyland because it’s easier than facing the truth.”

“Enough!” I snarled. “This is neither the time nor place. I… we… have a mission to plan for, something more important than my psychological inadequacies. Since I’m currently unable to banish you, how about we try working together instead of you constantly shitting in my cornflakes?”

“Deal,” she agreed, “but I stand by my request. I still want to go to the moon.”

I was too tired to fight. “Fine, whatever,” I said with a weary wave of my hand.

Luna’s Tycho City was quite the bustling hub in 2137, as it turned out.

The historical meeting with the Oivu still lay in the future, as did the Earth-Mars War, the last major conflict within the system prior to the Yīqún attack. In the here and now, new domes were being put up all over the surface, focused on endeavors like mining, manufacturing, and tourism. We’d booked the luxury suite at the Tycho Ritz-Carlton, with a stunning view of the Southern Highlands and Sea of Clouds, with a full Earth rising above the horizon. Raven adored it; coupled with the one-sixth gravity, she was literally dancing on air.

I hated it.

See, I’ve actually been to Earth. I’m pretty sure I already mentioned that, and I’ve seen it with my own two digital eyes. It doesn’t look a thing like the inviting blue-white orb I was currently staring at. No, the Terra of my time is an ugly, ravished blight, the oceans and atmosphere stripped away, the remaining soil excavated and poisoned. It’s a dead world, filled with the bones of our ancestors, a hideous reminder of all we’d lost. Staring at that beautiful lie, so bold and bright, made me want to smash things.

Instead, I turned away, nursing my drink. The Low-G bulb that contained it took a little getting used to, and the engineering required to make the bath and shower a survivable experience had to be seen to be believed. Every element was accurate, down to the last detail thanks to historical records, and in another time, another place, I might have actually enjoyed it.

“I want to go out on the surface!” Raven cried happily, spinning around one of the support columns. “Doesn’t that sound like a blast?”

I rolled my eyes. “It’s just boring gray rock, everywhere you look,” I told her. “What’s the point?”

“Because I haven’t done it before,” she retorted, giving me a dirty look. “Are you going to be like this the whole damn trip?”

“Hey, I tried to tell you why we don’t come here,” I reminded her, “so… probably.”

“Jesus,” she groaned, shaking her head, “what is it going to take to get you out of this mood?”

“A return to the status quo would be nice,” I muttered under my breath.

The death glare that earned me suggested I should have kept my mouth shut. I quickly changed the subject. “Raven, before we paint the town red, we need to sit down and figure out our next move. I don’t think you realize just how important this is.”

“I know, I know, future of humanity, blah blah blah,” she said with more than a little sarcasm. Grabbing another pre-mixed drink from the bar and cracking open the bulb, she plopped down onto the sinfully decadent couch. “So... let’s plan.”

Sitting down across from her, I took another sip from my drink. “Your idea to draw the Brotherhood out has merit,” I admitted. “The only question is, what do we use as bait?”

“You said they like old stuff, from the Precursors,” she said after a moment. “Why not tell everyone you have some dusty antique for sale?”

“Won’t work,” I sighed. “The Troika will just grab it for themselves, same as before.”

“Okay, well, why not contact them directly?” she suggested. “You know the brotherhood are these Chell aliens, right? Just call them.”

I kept from rolling my eyes, but it wasn’t easy. “Raven, the Tu’udh’hizh’ak have telepathically conditioned the Chell to obey without question for thousands of years. Somehow, a handful of them have figured out how to break their chains, but there can’t be more than a smattering of individuals. If we were to contact the Chell directly, they’d immediately inform their master’s about us. Which means we end up dead.”

“Okaaay,” she said, exasperated, “then contact them in-directly.”

I blinked at that. “What do you mean?”

Raven threw up her hands. “Aren’t you supposed to be some big super-spy? They didn’t teach subtlety in spy school?”

“We don’t have a school,” I retorted, though it came out a little snippier than I’d intended. I took a moment to center myself and tried again. “What you’re talking about is sending a coded message to an unknown party, one who doesn’t have the code. How are they going to read it without the key?”

“Can’t you just hint at what you want?” she fired back. “Keep it vague, or something?”

I was preparing a snippy comeback when something stopped me. On its face, her suggestion was ridiculous. How were you supposed to send a message to a secret society specific enough to gain their attention, yet obscure enough to fly under the radar? That’s quite the balancing act for a shot in the dark.

But the more I thought about it, I could see the possibilities peeking through. It’d be tricky, but with just the right wording… yeah. It was possible.

Raven watched in silence as I picked up a tablet and began pecking away… tentatively, at first, but after a few false starts, I began typing with growing confidence. A couple times I blanked the screen and started again, but I knew I was on the right track. I just needed to find the right words, like fitting a key into a lock. Just a few more tweaks and… voila! Once I’d finished, I passed it over for her approval.

She took the tablet and began reading aloud. “To: The Brotherhood. From: An Interested Party. Message: ‘You can’t hide in the shadows forever. I know why you remain invisible, but together we can step into the light. Serious replies only’.”

Setting down the tablet, she took another sip from her drink while she ran the message through her… admittedly simulated… brain, before giving a grudging nod of assent. “It might do the job,” she agreed, “course, there’s only one way to find out. Where are you going to send it?”

“That’s the easy part,” I explained. “There’s plenty of bulletin boards and publications where messages are passed. If they’ve been at this as long as I think they have, I’m betting they’re monitoring at least some of them.”

“Okay,” she shrugged, “then what happens?”

“We wait,” I said simply, “and no, I don’t know for how long. It could be a few hours, or several months.”

“Months?” she said incredulously. “We’re just supposed to sit here and wait for months?”

“Of course not,” I assured her, “because we can’t afford to waste the time. If we haven’t heard something in a few weeks, we’ll try something else.”

Raven considered that for a moment, and then finally nodded. Mollified, she unfolded herself from the couch and padded over to join me, crawling into my lap as lithely as a house cat, wrapping her arms around my neck.

“And what do we do in the meantime?” she purred.

Pulling her close, an impish grin crossed my face.

“I’m sure we’ll think of something,” I chuckled, before bending down to kiss her lips.

The next few weeks were the closest thing I’ve had to a vacation in years. I’d sent the message to every board and periodical I could think of; the next step was up to the Brotherhood. Considering this was the only investigation I was overseeing (being in the doghouse with Chris), it left me with copious amounts of free time. I let Raven choose our itinerary, and if there was an activity we missed, I can assure you it was purely an oversight.

Surfing off Waikiki, scuba diving the Great Barrier Reef, bungee jumping at Victoria Falls, hang gliding in Rio and skydiving in Dubai, we did it all. I also relented and did the system tour with her, exploring the moon via lunar crawler, climbing Olympus Mons on Mars, and prospecting the pyramids of Cydonia. We cruised Saturn’s rings, gazed at the Red Spot of Jupiter, took a deep submersible under the frozen seas of Europa, and stood upon the blasted crust of Mercury, where mighty Sol blazed like an inferno in the sky.

Back on Earth, I showed her the world as it had been. We opened Tutankhamen’s tomb with Howard Carter, stood before the great Kublai Khan beside Marco Polo, navigated by the stars in hand-crafted boats before sighting what they would call New Zealand. And there were the flights of fancy as well; solving cases with the great Sherlock Holmes, exploring the dystopian future with H. G. Wells and his Time Machine, partying with Gatsby, and watching Roy Hobbs knock one out of the park.

And the nights… well, let’s just say they were every bit as enjoyable.

But everything must end eventually, and it was during a trip aboard the Graf Zeppelin, flying high above the Atlantic, that a steward discretely handed me a telegram. Raven raised an eyebrow as she took a long drag on her cigarette, draped in a black silk number that would have seen her under arrest in several jurisdictions during this time period. She waited patiently as I read the message a second time, and then a third, before I finally set the folded paper down.

“It seems,” I said finally, “we have a reply.”