His world was darkness.

And pain.

Oh, the pain!

It rippled through his body, his soul, his brain...

Yes, he had a body. He remembered now. He remembered it all.

His eyes flickered open, staring at the scorched ceiling. He could hear the crackling flames through the ringing in his ears. The heat was fierce, and it reeked of burned flesh.

What had happened?

It came back to him, little by little.

The place would soon be crawling with sniffers.

Zax sat up, glancing at his torn hand. The skin had already healed, the wound closing up slowly. His eyes went to the large shrapnel that stuck out of his chest. He grunted as he pulled it out. The bleeding stopped almost instantly as the nanobots in his body mended his ripped flesh and broken bones.

It still hurt like hell.

He stood and looked around at the devastation. Turned. Walked back into the hall and froze. The entire floor had been leveled. The doors to the other suites had been blown off their hinges, the walls blasted. Fire raged in the large rooms beyond. He counted at least a dozen charred corpses as he stumbled to the elevator.

Zax got in and allowed himself to slump to the floor.

This would have to do.

He closed his eyes, and all went dark again.

After a while, he felt someone shaking his shoulder.

Why couldn’t they leave him alone? Let him heal in peace?

Again, his eyes flickered open.

A woman was leaning down over him, concern in her eyes.

“Senator Iden? Can you hear me?”

“Yes, yes, of course. I’m not deaf, you know.”

The sound of his voice sounded strange. Hoarse. Old. Weary.

He coughed and pulled himself up.

The woman helped him.

He saw other people outside...

Ah, yes. The elevator.

He was still in it.

It must have gone down, as he clearly was in the reception area now.

There was activity beyond the crowd. Other men going back and forth. In uniforms. Fire brigades, he noted. Using the other elevators.

So they had seen the destruction.

That piece of information registered inside his brain as a man grabbed his arm and pulled him out of the elevator, toward a room at the back.

“Come with me, senator. You need to rest. You’ve been through a lot.”

Zax laughed. He couldn’t help it.

He glanced at his hand and was happy to see it had fully healed. He hoped his chest had as well. It felt alright. Most of the pain was gone. Though the ringing in his ear was not.

The man gave him a chair and he sat.

“There will be questions, you understand.”

He nodded, saying nothing. He recognized this one now. A manager. Yes. His name was Devrak. He remembered talking to him a few days after his arrival. When he’d requested to keep his suite for the foreseeable future. It was an unusual request, but he could afford it. He had made that clear. The man had been quite amenable.

“Would you like to drink something? Are you hungry?”

“Zestri, please.”

The man frowned, but nodded. “Of course. I will get you a bottle right away.”

Once he was alone, Zax opened his burned shirt and looked at his chest. It was fine. Of course, the clothes would be a problem. How would he explain that?

He sighed as he buttoned his shirt up.

The manager returned with a bottle. Poured the salving nectar into a glass and handed it to the senator.

“It’s truly a miracle,” muttered Devrak. “How you survived the blast, I cannot fathom.”

“The elevator,” Zax said. “It shielded me.”

“Ah. Of course.”

The man stood there, staring at him awkwardly.

Zax clicked his tongue in annoyance. “Well, then! Don’t you have anything better to do than gape at me?”

Devrak blanched. “Apologies, senator. I’ll let you rest.”

He hurried out.

Alone once again, Zax tried to remember everything he could of what had happened. His stroll in the park, saving the cat, walking back to the hotel, and then... this.

The bomb had gone off as soon as he’d stepped into his room. Could someone else have been the target? Could this all be a coincidence?

It could...

Except, Zax did not believe in coincidences.

He rather thought someone was after him.

But who could be so bold to try something like this?

He didn’t know, but he would find out.

One way or another.

A knock on the door and it opened before he could say anything.

The woman who had helped him in the elevator stuck her head through the opening.

“Senator... There are some people here who would like to speak to you.”

The sniffers had arrived.

Let the dance begin...