Kindor returned Skylar to his home just after dark. The lights from Skylar's cave glowed warmly. Skylar imagined his mother sitting anxiously by the door for him to return.

"I'll stop by again in a few days to see how you're holding up," said Kindor, as Skylar climbed out of the speeder. "And don't worry about Rasbus. He'll come around."

So saying, Kindor flew off into the night.

Inside, Skylar was surprised to find his mother in their small sitting room talking with his uncle Lasseter. He hadn't expected his uncle to pay a visit, and certainly not so late in the day. Not that his uncle ever did anything predictable.

His mother smiled at him as he entered the sitting room. But Skylar noted a touch of guilt in her eyes, as if she were hiding something from him. Perhaps it was just the anxiety she felt over him being gone and not well. He shrugged it off.

"I'm glad you're home," she said. "Are you feeling alright? You're probably tired. I hope you didn't overdo it."

She was on her feet in an instant, encouraging Skylar to rest in one of the recumbent chairs.

"I'm fine, Mother―really," he insisted.

He sat in the chair, nonetheless.

"What did you think of the Council meeting, Skylar?" asked his uncle who looked rather serious. Of late, his uncle had been acting inexplicably grave. Tonight, though, he seemed even more so.

Lasseter was the only family Skylar had beside his mother. His uncle was sort of a father to Skylar. He had been present for all the major events in Skylar's life. Birthdays, holidays, his first day at the Academy, the start of his apprenticeship at the docks―everything. But his uncle was eccentric. Everyone in the Gorge knew it. And the older Skylar grew the more it bothered him, the more he wished he didn't have an uncle who lived secluded in some secret desert cave; an uncle who didn't always go about in the unforgiving Haladrian sun cloaked and hooded, like a bandit in disguise.

Lasseter wore the cloak even now, as he waited for Skylar to reply. His piercing green eyes were fixed intently on Skylar. They were the same eyes Skylar had.

"It was very...interesting," replied Skylar, stealing Rolander's observation.

"Indeed," said his uncle. "Yes, some might call Arturo's report interesting. I would not."

"How is that, Uncle? Were you there?"

"No," he replied, and went on without giving any explanation. "These insects of which Arturo informed the Council...," he paused, the expression on his face becoming even graver. "You must stay away from them."

"But they aren't on Haladras."

"They will be," he said, as he abruptly stood and pulled the hood over his face.

"How do you...do you know what they are?"

Lasseter had already turned and was making his way for the portal. He paused briefly and said over his shoulder, "They are dangerous. That is all you need to know." Then he slipped out into the darkness.

Skylar sat staring at the portal, baffled.

"Well, that was odd―even for Uncle Lasseter," said Skylar to his mother, who he hoped would offer some sort of explanation. "What makes him so certain that they'll appear on Haladras? Does he know what they are?"

"I don't know, Sky," she said, sighing in exhaustion. "But I think you should listen to your uncle. If you see them, do whatever it takes to stay away from them."

Skylar decided not to mention what Rolander had said about the insects actually being machines.

The next day Skylar returned to the Academy. It had taken some persuasion to convince his mother that he was well enough to make the walk across the Gorge by himself. She had only reluctantly agreed after he told her that he couldn't afford to get behind in astrophysics. Which was not entirely untrue. Though, he doubted an extra day or two would put him too far behind. The truth was, he wanted to go. He hated to be home all day with nothing to do.

When he arrived at school that morning, he quickly discovered that news about his accident at the docks had spread through the entire Academy. Classmates he had never talked to before, both senior and junior, swarmed around him like vultures to a carcass. Questions shot at him from all sides. Dizzied by the swirl of interrogation, he mumbled out a few unsatisfactory answers and tried to push free of the crowd, toward his lecture hall.

"That's enough! Off to class, now," cried a shrill voice that no one at the Academy could mistake. "Break up this mob. All of you...off."

It was Professor Meese, the headmistress.

The crowd dispersed as quickly as it had assembled. No one wished to be singled out by the strict disciplinarian.

Skylar, too, had no wish to be loitering in the hall. He turned to retreat with his fellow classmates. But that same voice halted him in mid-stride.

"Mr. Lancewright?" she said commandingly. "Mr. Skylar Lancewright."

Skylar turned around to face her.

"Come with me," she said, turning on her heel and striding briskly toward her office. Skylar swallowed and tried to keep up as best he could.

The headmistress brought him to her office and closed the door behind him.

"Have a seat, Mr. Lancewright."

Skylar sat down in a solitary chair in front of her large stone desk. The headmistress walked around behind the desk and sat down. Skylar had never been so close to this woman before, never had taken notice of her outward appearance. She was a tall woman, thin as a desert reed. She wore her pale hair pulled back tightly in a bun which gave her long narrow face, sunken cheeks and pointed nose full prominence. Her clothes were simple and unflattering, but impeccable, without crease or wrinkle.

"Skylar," she said, sitting perfectly erect in her chair, hands clasped and resting on her desk. "I have heard about your accident at the harbor."

Skylar flushed slightly. Had anyone not heard?

"I wanted to make sure that you feel well enough to return to your classes. You needn't feel pressure to resume your studies before you have completely convalesced. I am confident I can arrange an appropriate level of makeup work from your professors―nothing overwhelming."

For a moment Skylar didn't know how to respond. Was this the same headmistress everyone avoided at all cost?

"Thank you, Professor," he finally stammered out, "but I'm really feeling much better. Besides, I'd rather be here than sitting at home."

The hard line that formed the headmistress's mouth twitched slightly at the corners and she sat taller in her chair.

"Well!" She said with unmasked delight, "I certainly cannot argue with such an answer. I'm sure, then, you're eager to get to your classes. I shall detain you no longer. But, please, let me know if there's anything I can do for you."

He thanked her, then hurriedly left her office, eager to be free of that uncomfortable situation.

When Skylar stepped in his lecture hall, he found that Professor Valenkr had not yet begun his pedantic drone about Applied Geophysical Computation. Most of the class was seated, already. He hurried to find a free seat among the gossiping huddles of students, who all seemed to halt their various conversations to stare at him as he passed by. He found his usual seat next to Rolander empty and sat down, exhaling audibly. The freckle-faced boy beamed at him.

"Hey, Skylar!" said Rolander enthusiastically. "Feeling better?"

Skylar nodded, a bit tired of everyone asking him how he felt.

"So, does everyone know about the accident?" Skylar whispered quietly.

"There might be a few oblivious simpletons out there. Outside of those though..."

Rolander smiled apologetically.

Skylar shook his head. "Even Professor Meese knows. She pulled me into her office to talk about it."

"She did? What did she―"

"Hey, Skylar!" shouted a voice that made Rolander halt his speech. "I heard you helped save the docks when Captain Arturo's ship got caught on a tow cable."

"Helped!" retorted a sneering voice that made Skylar's teeth clench. He knew that voice only too well. Drake Blacksands. The most pestering, contradictory and meddlesome person Skylar had ever met.

Skylar quickly turned toward the front of the lecture hall, hoping to see Professor Valenkr. His heart sank. The wordy, monotone professor was still absent from the hall. Of all the days for him to be late...

Ordinarily Professor Valenkr began his lectures promptly on schedule, being eager to drown his pupils in the deluge of his vast knowledge.

"Helped?" repeated Drake, as if the word were vulgar. "He didn't help. He was the reason the deck was almost destroyed." Drake looked at Skylar with his round face and gave him one of his notoriously annoying smiles. "Not only that," he went on, "but he lost his balance while flying his jetwing and fell like an idiot onto the deck. He almost killed himself."

The entire class erupted with laughter. Skylar began to feel as if he'd made a bad decision in coming to school so soon. Yet he couldn't just sit there and let Drake make a fool out of him. He felt himself growing hotter with anger every second.

"It wasn't my fault the dock was nearly destroyed," Skylar blurted out.

"Oh really? You were operating the winch with the cable that didn't release, weren't you?"

"Yes, but it got stuck."

"Stuck!" Drake gasped in mock astonishment. "That must have been scary for you, Skylar. Except that those winches don't get stuck. It's impossible. Everyone knows that. Although, maybe for an inept dockhand like you it might seem stuck."

"It was stuck! I―"

"Settle down, settle down" interrupted the flat voice of Professor Valenkr, who was just walking into the lecture hall. Skylar and Drake both abandoned the argument. Sitting back in his chair, Skylar took several deep, forceful breaths. If only Drake Blacksands wasn't two hundred pounds and nearly a head taller than him...if only. Not that he would ever really start a brawl with anyone. That wasn't Skylar's way. But if there was anyone on the planet of Haladras he would like to grind into the sandstone, Drake Blacksands was that person.

Professor Valenkr's lecture seemed to drag on longer than usual. Perhaps because Skylar's thoughts were focused on a particular over-sized classmate. Finally the lecture ended. Skylar had heard nothing of it.

He got up and moved as quickly as his bruised muscles would allow toward the exit, hoping to avoid any further confrontation with Drake. Suddenly, he had an idea, and made his way straight toward Professor Valenkr, instead. The professor was still collecting his books and parchments when Skylar approached.

"Professor Valenkr?" said Skylar tentatively.

The professor looked up with a startled expression on his face.

"Did you say something, my boy?" he asked, his monotone voice sounding higher than normal.

"Yes, Professor. I was wondering if you could explain that last point of your lecture to Drake. I don't think he quite followed it. He's a bit shy, you know?"

"What's that? Drake. Which one's Drake?" He looked up toward the rest of the hall and squinted his eyes.

"The large one, Professor."

"Ah, yes, that one. I'm not surprised. Very well," he said as waddled off to intercept Drake.

It wasn't really a lie, Skylar told himself. He had no doubt Drake hadn't understood a word of Professor Valenkr's lecture.

The few remaining hours of classes passed uneventfully. He succeeded in avoiding Drake, who was doubtless irate over Skylar's prank, and mostly the other classmates stopped talking about what happened at the docks.

By the end of his classes, he felt tired and achy as he walked back to the Gorge. He was walking as quickly as he could, hoping Drake wouldn't decide to come looking for him. In his condition, and without his jetwing, he felt vulnerable. He glanced back a couple of times, expecting at any moment to see Drake's massive form lumbering after him.

He hadn't gone far when he heard a voice call his name. His heart stuttered in his chest. The voice didn't belong to Drake, though. It sounded too delicate, too feminine. Turning around hesitantly, he saw the last person on Haladras he expected to call his name. Kendyl Windlem.

Smiling radiantly, she hurried over to him. Skylar froze where he stood, unable to move or speak. Had she―the prettiest girl on Haladras―really called his name? He had never spoken to her before, never dared to. Her beauty somehow made her seem unapproachable―forbidden even. But there she was, the crush of his life, jogging lithely toward him, smiling.

"Hi," she said in a voice that turned his legs to mush.

Skylar stammered out some reply that made him sound like he could talk.

"I know we've never met before...my name's Kendyl."

Skylar only smiled dumbly. She tucked a long strand of her flaming hair behind one ear and bit her lower lip.

"Um...I just wanted to tell you," she went on, "that I don't believe what Drake said in class today. From what I heard, you saved the dock and probably several lives, too. My brother told me it was the most daring maneuver he ever saw."

"Your brother?" said Skylar, having regained some control over his tongue. "Does he work at the harbor?"

"Yes. My older brother―Kael. Do you know him?"

Skylar shook his head. "No, I don't think so."

"It doesn't matter really. I just thought you should know not everyone thinks like Drake."

"Thanks," replied Skylar. "I wish Rasbus felt the same way."

Kendyl nodded her head sympathetically. "Yes, my brother told me about that, too. 'Raging mad' was how he described him. Rasbus won't terminate your apprenticeship, will he?"

Skylar shrugged. "I don't know. He put me on mandatory sick leave for two weeks. After that he said we'd talk."

"Well, I hope he lets you back. It would only be his loss if he doesn't."

There was a few seconds pause, in which Skylar didn't know what more to say. He didn't have to.

"Could I walk with you?" she asked timidly. "I'm not expected at my apprenticeship for another hour."

At that moment, he could have died from sheer joy.

Their walk to the Gorge passed all too quickly. He had managed to relax a little more, and soon they were chatting and laughing like best friends. And then they were at his cave, and Kendyl said goodbye.

Skylar stepped into the cave, his mind floating on a cloud of thoughts filled with Kendyl. He was so distracted that he didn't even notice the dark figure sitting in the corner.