“I don’t know if it was really them,” the man spoke into the phone receiver, massaging his temple. He was sitting in a small coffee shop in the center of town. “Definitely a Hach with falsified documentation, but I couldn’t get anything out of them directly. A lot of people moved from Northland around the end of the War, so they could have been just some kid from the same period. But if it was them, they’re here. I don’t know if they plan on going anywhere. …Same name, but I think they refer to themselves differently.”

Adrian Settle listened to the voice on the other end for a while, his expression hardening.

When it stopped, he said, “No, I couldn’t sense it.”

More talking.

“I think it is in the school, but I wouldn't wager money on that. I’d only be able to tell within close proxi—yes, I realize the trouble you had to go through for me to—yes, of course I’m aware of the possible consequences—”

He huffed as the voice cut him off again.

“Look, you paid me to speak to them and check them out. I did that. My job is done.”

He wanted to add that, for the love of the stars of Andromeda and Pegasus, they could have hired anyone else and gotten even less results – but he didn’t. A private detective wasn’t allowed to go that far. The police car and the two policemen, as well as the documents, had all been provided by his client, and Mr. Settle only thanked his lucky star, whichever it was, that the boy, nay, the teacher, had never caught on to his small act. Somewhere in the back of his mind he wondered what could have possibly led someone to believe that a plain boy like that actually owned one of the Stones. He didn’t dwell on that.

Finally, the voice asked about the owed amount. Adrian Settle leaned back on the wall of the booth and voiced it with a suppressed sigh of relief. He was glad to be done with this.