The suspended walkway glittered under the silvery moon. It snaked its way between triangular buildings, like the tortuous path of a madman. Yet, there was purpose to the design. Each twist would bring the stroller close to a gate into the adjacent structure.

Mrill stopped at the third turn and went through the door. It was a reddish thing with a green handle that rather clashed with the whiteness within. But the blue alien cared little about such things.

She walked up to the reception desk and stared at the man behind it.

“Yes?” he said.

“I need to go to Ebar.”

The man looked her up and down, snorted, and tapped on his TriVid screen.

“I have an opening in two hours.”

“How much?”

“Thirty thousand credits,” he said with a smirk.

She could have bought a ticket at the spaceport, but cruisers were notoriously slow. And the rim was far. It would have taken forever to get there—and she didn’t have forever. Besides, she dreaded the idea of spending so much time doing nothing.

That was not for her.

It would have been cheaper, of course, but that was not a concern.

She slid a hand into her pouch and brought out five coins. Each was worth ten thousand credits.

“I’ll give you fifty if you can send me there right now.”

The man’s eyes went wide. He blinked a couple of times, then looked back at the woman’s face.

“Uhm, I’m sure that can be arranged.”

A couple of minutes later, she stood in front of an oval shape drawn on a wall. The surface inside shifted, shimmered, faded, until it was no more. Instead, it now showed another place. It was all sand and dunes, with dust swirling in the air—likely carried by the wind. She almost thought she could hear it.

She glanced at the technician who was working on his dashboard.

“You’re sending me to a desert?”

Her voice was calm and bland, despite the question.

The man shrugged without looking up. “Those are the only coordinates I have for Ebar. There should be a city nearby, though. There always is. The gateways need constant energy to maintain them open, not to mention people to operate the controls.”

“There should be? You don’t know?”

The technician looked up at her with the kind of expression you’d give a child who was asking a very stupid question. “Do you know how many worlds there are in the Imperium? Would you really expect me to remember them all? Including places like this that no one ever goes to?”

“No,” she conceded, “I imagine I wouldn’t.”

He went back to work.

Mrill’s gaze returned to the opening.

“Very well. Shall I go in now?”

“Hold on.”

She waited.

The technician tapped some more, then finally looked up.

“It’s ready. Please step through the gateway.”

She walked up to the opening, then went in without a second of hesitation.

It felt as if her body melted and was sucked in at the same time. Before she could process the experience, it was over.

She looked around her.

All she could see was sand and dunes for miles on end in every direction.

No city. No people. Nothing.

And the passage she had come through was gone.

She’d have to have a chat with that technician when she got back.

As this thought went through her head, she heard a distant humming sound. She looked in the direction it came from and saw a growing dot.

Something was coming.

Her hand instinctively went for the cylindrical handle she always had on her. She gripped it and pulled it out, watching as the silhouette grew.

It was a glider, she realized. And a rather large model, too.

“Quick!” she heard a panting voice call out from behind her. “Over here!”

She spun around and saw a hole had opened in the sand. A man’s head and hand jutted out, waving urgently at her.

Glancing over her shoulder, she saw the glider had sped up and would be upon them within seconds. She ran to the opening and jumped in as the man slid down. The hole closed up above her head with a swoosh.

It was a narrow tunnel that dug deep into the earth. She used the ladder on the wall to climb down, her back scraping against the rock.

When she reached the bottom, she found the man waiting for her in a small room with barely enough space for the two of them.

“Hi! I’m Avor.” He looked her up and down and wrinkled his nose. “Nobody told me you’d be blue. Then again, nobody ever tells me anything, so why should I be surprised?”

She decided to ignore the comment. It didn’t matter. She was not likely to ever see this man again. Instead, she pointed up.

“Who was that?”

“In the glider?” Avor shrugged. “Bandits. They’re always on the lookout for the rich who use the gateway.” He threw his arms in the air. “And then, of course, the rich are pissed because they have to come down here. I mean, look at this dump! But what else am I supposed to do? It’s not like I have the space to open a gateway here. And I’m all alone operating things, so I have to keep running from the control room—” He pointed to another narrow tunnel to his left. “—to the desert up there, hoping I can save whoever thought it’d be a brilliant idea to visit Ebar of all places—no offense—before any of those stupid lowlife uneducated and miserable thugs can assault them! It wouldn’t be so hard to solve this. With all the credits they’re making with folks like you, you’d think they could afford hiring help. But noooo, the higher-ups refuse to spend even half-a-credit on a backward world!” He paused, looking her over again. “Well, not exactly like you, but you know what I mean.”

She had listened quietly to his rant, her face expressionless.

“Where is the city?” she asked.

The man blinked a couple of times.

“Ah, well, of course.” He muttered to himself. “You wouldn’t care about my troubles, would you? Why would you ever?” He threw his arms in the air again. “Not that it matters, I suppose. Come on, follow me.” He stepped toward another opening in the rock wall. “I hate my life. Why, oh why did I not listen to my wife? She warned me this job smelled fishy. Not that she’d know. It’s not like she’s ever smelled a fish in her entire life. Nor have I, to be fair. Not too many fish on Ebar, no sirree. But you know what? She was right! Damn woman. Look at this place! It’s a dump! I expected this to be the opportunity of a lifetime. Ha! I thought my wife was crazy. Even left her over it. What a fool I was. Not about the wife, she was a wicked one, that one. Good riddance. But this place is—”

“A dump, yes. I quite agree.”

They had reached another small room. The far wall had been flattened, smoothed out, with four doors carved into it.

The little man grumbled and pointed.

“Well now, here it is. You only need but choose where you want to go. Far left will take you to Havenka—a beautiful city if you don’t mind the constant wind and all the dust in the air.” He wrinkled his nose, making it clear what he thought about it. “The one next to it leads to Valenki, where they eat worms for breakfast and feast on mud in the winter.” He laughed. “Winter! What a joke. Get it? Winter! Ha!”

“The other two?” asked Mrill calmly.

The man snorted. “Third one goes to Tolinku, where all women wear garments made of hardened lomdru skin. It’s said to keep you fresh. I wouldn’t know, I’ve never worn the damn thing. Not a woman, am I? Why would I put on something like that? It’s the silliest thing I’ve ever heard.”

Mrill had said nothing, and still she remained quiet. The little man peered at her, shrugged, and pointed at the last door.

“That one goes to Adranko. Loneliest place on Ebar. Plenty of people there, but none of them speak. And all of them hide. I mean, they never come out of their houses. Except to buy stuff, I suppose. Even then, I don’t think they do. More likely, someone else delivers the food to them. Which wouldn’t make sense, would it? Because then there would be delivery men all over their streets, and there ain’t! Who knows? I don’t. Curious folks. Oh, and they don’t like strangers there. Rumor is they eat them raw.”

Mrill rather doubted that, but she did not comment.

“Which is the capital?”

“Capital? What capital?” The little man laughed. “There is no such thing here. Every city has its own government. Total nonsense, I tell you. Nobody can ever agree on—”

“Which is the biggest city?” she interrupted.

“In geographical size or in terms of population?”

As the man continued to spew out comments, she consulted the holofile Janth had given her. It stated her target lived in the capital. Considering what she was hearing, she would have to make assumptions.

“Population,” she said.

The man stopped blathering whatever nonsense he was blathering and blinked.

“Oh. Well. If you’re going to look at population, then it depends whether we’re including the—”

“Which one?”

The guardian grumbled and pointed at the third door.

“Tolinku.”

Before he could say another word—and she could sense he was about to—she walked up to the third door, opened it, and stepped through.