Jon lowered himself onto a damp spot of dirt near the water drain he and Emma would be using to get inside the complex. Hopefully it would lead somewhere advantageous, because he didn’t know the layout of the complex as well as he would have liked.

“Here,” Andrea called to Niles over the buzz of the props, tossing him another stake-ended rope she’d secured to the barge. Walter hammered them into the ground while Niles held the stakes straight.

“What are you doing?” Jon said.

“Staking her down,” Niles said. “Haven’t you ever landed?”

Jon smiled. “I know what you’re doing, Niles, but why aren’t you using your gifts?

“My gifts?”

Jon’s smile became wry. “You really are as rusty as those stakes, aren’t you?” he said as he levitated one of the roped stakes. He gesticulated slamming the stake into the ground and it did just that. “It’s easier.”

“Maybe it’s a good thing I don’t take my magical abilities for granted?”

“Perhaps,” Jon said as he made his way to the drainage duct. Then he raised his arms, beckoning his powers to come to life once more. The metal grate covering the drain pipe ripped off with an audible screech of metal.

Fortunately they were far enough from the complex not to be seen or heard. It must have been rare indeed that visitors came this far out, otherwise the Order would have had better defenses.

Between the mountains the the jungles, the Dusty Maiden would be hard to spot.

“Good luck,” Niles said as he propped up another stake for Walter.

Jon smiled. “Thanks.” He jumped into the drainage tunnel and started making his way up the shaft. He could hear Emma’s splashing footsteps behind him.

“I wish we had some RMK visors,” she muttered, her voice echoing softly though the large tube.

“You know,” Jon said musingly. “Niles is right about one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“The Order is rather unimaginative when it comes to naming its various technologies.” He reached into his inner coat pocket. “We’ll just have to make do with these.” He pulled out two flares and lit them.

They continued on for what seemed at least an hour before they found a chamber sealed off by a large metal door. Jon didn’t want to make a ruckus, not knowing who might be near. He decided to pick the lock rather than smash it.

“They waste a lot of water here,” Emma said.

“Archeologists...” He paused, still fumbling at the lock. “...way out here, don’t really care about anything else but their work. I know I didn’t when I was here. The things—the research that goes on in this place. They’re enough to drive a mania into anyone.”

“Strange we didn’t see any water haulers on the way here,” Emma said distractedly as she glanced back down the tunnel. “Do you miss it...? I mean, working here?”

The lock clicked open. “Got it.” The chains rattling as he pulled them from the door. “Sometimes I do,” he said, opening the door.

They were in a small corridor now. At the far side was a metal step ladder. “I guess we go up,” he said as he strode to the ladder. He grabbed a rung and began to climb up a claustrophobic shaft flickering with dull yellow light. At the top he turned, stepped off the ladder and onto the floor to find himself in a small room with a single door.

Emma stepped off the ladder behind him as he bent to examine the door’s lock. “This one will take a moment,” he said, pulling out his lock picks for the second time.

Emma had her hands behind her back. Her knees buckled a bit but then she sprang back. She looked around.

“Everything okay?” he asked distractedly as he fumbled with the lock. “Nervous?”

“A bit.”

“Don’t worry,” he said. Everything is going to work out. And I believe I recognize this door.

“You do?” Emma said with mild relief.

“Yes,” Jon said. “I’ve passed by it dozens of times. From the inside I mean.” At least I think I have, he thought.

“Do you know how to get to the director’s office from here?”

“Ah, got it,” he said. Then, putting his lock picks away he added, “I should know exactly how to get to his office. It was mine once.” Jon stood up and removed the flickering light above the door so he wouldn’t cast light through the opening when he decided to have a look. He remembered the corridor on the other side, how it had been dimly lit just like most of the rooms within the complex. How each expert’s work had been lit up by special spotlights.

Good luck, he told himself as he cracked the door open just enough to see through. The corridor was just as he had remembered it. From his vantage point he could barely see into the room where the corridor lead. “It’s clear,” he whispered. Then he shut the door.

They were in total blackness now, but Jon could still hear Emma breathing.

“Plan?” She said.

“As soon as I say, we slip into the room. Follow me and keep quiet. If you’re spotted, act normal.”

“Act normal? I thought you said that wouldn’t work. That’s why you left Niles on his barge.”

“Of course that’s why I left Niles on his barge. And it won’t work, but flinching for cover if you get spotted will sound alarms for certain. And in the words of the common barge captain”—he was attempting to lighten the mood, hoping it would make Emma less nervous—“you never know when luck might be drifting with you. So act normal if you get spotted.”

“I understand.”

“Good. Are you ready?”

“Yes.”

Jon opened the door for one last peek to make sure it was clear. It was. “Let’s go,” he said, opening the door quietly. It was good they arrived at the complex during the evening. For one, it allowed the Dusty Maiden to get close enough to the complex unseen.

Jon thought the room seemed deserted. The researchers must have turned in for the night. Either that or they were attending some sort of meeting in another area of the facility.

They left the corridor and entered the room. He peeked around the corner making sure nobody was in the area. It was empty, so he strode across the room as if he still worked there. Hopefully no one will make us out if we get spotted, he thought.

Jon moved up to another door. He tried the handle. It was unlocked. He pushed the door open, and there, standing in front of him was a Guardian—he could tell because he was able to sense the man’s magical aura.

He flinched inwardly.

“Excuse me,” the man said, flattening himself against the wall so Jon and Emma could get by.

As far as Jon could tell the Guardian didn’t recognize them as not being associated with the staff. Better yet, he didn’t recognize Jon as being the former director of the complex!

Jon moved passed the man acutely aware of his own stride. He tried to seem as normal as possible while his legs started to feel more and more like rotwood.

“Hold a moment,” The Guardian said.

Jon’s heart lurched. He stopped, turned to face the man. He could feel his throat tightening. “Yes?” he said, quietly and trying to smile.

“You seem familiar...” the man said, “...yet I don’t recall seeing you about the labs?”

Jon froze. He didn’t know what to say. Nothing, not even the feeblest excuse came to him. He glanced at Emma who looked as stricken as he felt.

The Guardian’s expression became quizzical. Then he looked at Emma for a moment. Then back to Jon.

Did he recognize them? Did he recognize Jon? He couldn’t see how the man didn’t realize he was standing face to face with the former senior director. A wanted man.

The Guardian’s face changed to bewilderment. Then for the briefest moment Jon thought he saw a flash of alarm.

We’re made!

“I’m sorry,” the man said. “What is your name?” He had his hand out now.

The moment their palms touched, Jon knew the Guardian would make his move. “Emma,” he said calmly...” The Guardian didn’t take his eyes away from his. “...the door, please,” he finished.

As soon as Emma turned for the door Jon lurched forward. With his left arm he deflected the other Guardian’s outstretched hand as he brought his right fist up as fast as he could. It connected with the man’s jaw and he went down.

Emma turned with a slight gasp, their opponent already back on his feet for a second round. Emma moved forward but the man was ready for her. He turned, kicked her in the stomach. She crashed into the door.

Jon lunged, but the Guardian anticipated his move, forcing him to block a punch foiling his attempt. Being the only alternative, he brought his head down over the other man’s nose and he heard a crack.

The Guardian was momentarily stunned, unable to effectively block Jon’s knee which still impacted him in the stomach. Then Jon brought his forehead down a second time.

The Guardian fell to his knees, his face covered in blood from the broken nose he’d sustained.

Jon balled his fist and swung hard. His knuckles connected with the side of his opponent’s head, sending him sprawling to the floor unconscious.

After a moment of shaky silence, breathing heavily, Jon said, “Are you...” He moved towards Emma with an outstretched hand. “...all right?”

Emma took his hand, clutching her stomach. “I’m fine,” she said, still bent over a little. “Are you okay, Jon?”

“I’m quite fine. Now let’s move this man before someone comes this way.” Jon scouted the area to make sure nobody heard what had happened. When he deemed it clear, he and Emma dragged the unconscious Guardian behind a desk inside one of the glassed cubicles. “Turn that lamp off,” he said.

After they were in the clear they moved along the cubicle space, still being cautious in case someone entered the area. He could hardly believe nobody had heard the disturbance. “This is it,” he said, stopping at a large door. He turned the handle and went inside with Emma close behind. “Lock the door behind you.”

The office space was much like he had remembered it. Dark, though bright lighting was concentrated on the monitor-laden desk.

“Why didn’t we just come through the window?” Emma asked, pointing at the scenery outside.

“That’s an artificial view panel,” Jon said, looking up from the opaque monitor screens. “And this is more your area of expertise I believe.” He gestured to the computer screen.

Emma moved behind the desk and began punching commands into the holographic keys. “This may take some time,” she said.

“How much time?”

“Fifteen, twenty minutes, maybe.”

This is it, he thought. In a moment we’ll have the location of the control room.

Counting the trip through the aqua drain, Jon thought they had been inside the complex for over an hour already. The longer they took, the larger the chance the Dusty Maiden would be spotted, and that wasn’t even mentioning the chance a horde could accidentally venture upon them.

Jon was watching Emma as she punched commands into the console. She—to Jon’s knowledge—was trying to gain access to the system. Once she was able to do that, finding the proper files they needed would be easy.

Something like footsteps sounded outside the door. “Do you hear that?” he said, craning his head up. The handle to the only door in the room turned half way but no more. It was fortunate he had told Emma to lock it on their way in. “Down,” he hissed.

They were hiding behind the desk. Jon could hear fumbling sounds on the other side of the door as he readied his energy pistol. There was a click and Jon heard the door swing open.

If there’s more than one, it’s over, he told himself.

Only one pair of feet entered the room. Whoever it was, he was evidentially not aware of an intrusion. Jon heard the door shut as the footsteps approached the desk. Then he came out of hiding, his pistol aimed straight at the man’s chest. “Good evening.”

The director’s eyes went wide. “Who are you? Wait—how did you get in here?”

“We crawled in through your fake window,” Emma said, gesturing to the view panel.

“Wait,” the director said. “I know you. You’re my predecessor. You’re wanted for treason.”

“Right you are,” Jon said. “However it’s not me who is the traitor. It’s the entire High Council! Now, please.” He gestured to the chair behind the desk. “Sit.” He kept his aim on the director’s chest as the man arced around the desk. “Sit,” Jon said a second time.

The director sat. He glanced at the monitor screen and made a face at Emma’s interrupted hack. “What is it you want?”

The man wasn’t even a Guardian. Is this how feckless and cowardly the Order was now? “We need the location of the control room,” Jon said, glancing back at the door.

The director tried to feign ignorance as he said, “Control room?”

“Yes,” Jon said. “As you can see we were attempting to hack your computer when you conveniently strolled in here. You’ve just made our task that much easier.”

“What?”

Jon put a hand on the director’s shoulder. Then he tightened his grip. The director winced sharply before concealing his pain. “Do not play coy with me, sir,” Jon said in his most dangerous tone. He wasn’t about to kill the man, but then the director didn’t have to know that.

The director looked up at Emma who shrugged innocently. He breathed in deeply and said, “Very well.”

Jon immediately removed his grip from the man’s shoulder. “Thank you.”

Only a few minutes had passed before the director was showing Jon and Emma the exact location of the control room on his monitor screen. Then he said, “Swords, you can’t go there. When the extraterrestrials return—”

“I’m well aware of what the Guardian High Council believes will happen if humans are discovered nosing about the weapon,” he said, punching in the longitudinal and latitudinal numbers into a data tablet which belonged to the director. “It is precisely why I intend to activate the weapon before they get here.”

“It won’t work...”

“Be quiet,” Emma said. “You’re not going to stop us, coward.” Then she slammed her pistol against the director’s head.

“Why did you do that?” Jon asked incredulously. “We already have—”

“Scorg dung!—he just triggered an alarm,” Emma said, pointing at the monitor.

Jon glanced quickly at the monitor, then to the unconscious director. ”I don’t hear an alarm,” he said.

Suddenly claxons began to sound.

“You were saying?”

“I was saying that you’re starting to sound like Niles.”

Emma scoffed at his comment. “We better get out of here.”