.:.:: FEY AYAN ::.:.

  Hub Administrator Fey Ayan had survived three years on Kabus by trusting her instincts, and every one of them was screaming that the tall, white-haired man standing in her office would bring nothing but trouble. She looked up from the expedition proposal on her screen.

  "I cannot recommend this," Ayan said, gesturing at the file. "I've lost seventeen personnel to this moon this cycle alone. An expedition into unmapped territory runs counter to every safety protocol we have. The dangers are immense."

  Vanguard Starcarver gazed at her calmly. He was a monolith in her modest office, his broad shoulders nearly blocking the window that framed the prefabricated structures of the Hub and the wild, violet-tinged landscape of Kabus beyond.

  "The dangers are precisely why we're here," he said with obscenely serene confidence. "My people have travelled from afar to learn this world. They are awakening as we speak."

  "And how many will walk back?" Ayan pulled up the manifest on her screen. "You bring seven Torchers with you, that’s eight lives I'm being asked to risk."

  “And it will be more,” Starcarver said evenly, “once we have recruited novices from Kabus willing to tackle their First Passage.”

  Ayan wanted to laugh at the suggestion that anyone from Kabus would even think about hiking beyond the perimeter, but the atmospheric alert on her monitor flashed again. Third warning this morning. The readings were becoming more erratic by the day, just like everything else on this cursed moon.

  “Is there a problem with our documentation?” Starcarver asked.

  “Oh, it is all very neat and technically in order," she said. "And yet is lacking a detailed itinerary for your pilgrimage."

  "Do please call it a Passage, Hub Chief," Starcarver said, his handsome face impassive. "And no, there will be no itinerary for our path cannot be plotted on your maps. Our feet will be guided by the world itself."

  Across the office, Ayan’s assistant Marlo glanced up from his monitoring station, made an amused face, then quickly returned to his screens. Ayan suppressed a sigh.

  "Kabus," she said, "is a moon of Mosogon." She gestured toward the window. "Ninety-five percent of the surface remains unsurveyed."

  "We understand," Starcarver replied. "We welcome uncertainty with open hearts and minds."

  "But how will you know what supplies to bring?"

  "Hub Chief," Starcarver continued in a soothing tone, "I must reiterate that we require nothing from you beyond authorization. Our needs are minimal."

  "Your needs,” she said, “are not the problem. Kabus is a wild and verdant moon. has needs, and it might use to fill them.”

  Starcarver's lips curved into the faintest smile. "It’s true nature will be revealed to us," he said. "What you see as hostility, we recognize as invitation. The greater the challenge, the more profound the Passage." He straightened his already impressive height. "Now, if you could give us permission to depart the Hub, we would be very grateful."

  Behind her came the sounds of furious clicking as Marlo pretended to type a report. Ayan shook her head. She had fulfilled her duty by voicing her concerns. What happened to the Torchers beyond the Hub's walls was, technically, not her responsibility to prevent.

  "Fine," she said slowly. "I’ll send your departure notice. I assume you carry a device of some sort?"

  Starcarver inclined his head. "For now, I carry a simple device for just such a purpose. A good day to you, Hub Administrator."

  Stolen story; please report.

  After he left, Ayan took a deep breath and slumped back into her chair. "They're all going to die out there," she said, rubbing her temples.

  Marlo swiveled to face her. "Don't underestimate the Torchers. Remember what happened on Colloid IV? World tsunami, all colonies wiped out. The planetary commission’s salvage team thought they’d be lucky to find corpses. Then wham! Torchers, still making their Passage through waterlogged ruins. Not a single casualty."

  Through the window, Ayan watched the mist that crawled over the jungle, tinted lilac by Mosogon’s glow.

  "Colloid IV is a barren rock planet," she muttered. "Not a jungle moon tortured by the pull of a gas giant." She turned from the window. "Get in touch with that field scientist. The one who smashed his strataglider."

  Marlo raised an eyebrow. "Ootu?"

  "Yes. I want him to do something."

  Marlo smiled. "You mean you want him to monitor something?"

  "For now." Ayan returned her gaze to the window. "Let's see how far faith carries them across that chaos."

  ?

  ~*~*~ OOTU ~*~*~

  "You want me to do what?" Field Scientist Ootu stared at his comm-unit in disbelief.

  "Accompany the Torchers on their Passage," Marlo repeated. "Chief Ayan's orders."

  Ootu sat down on a rickety chair, the only item in his cluttered lab that could be called furniture. Well, the sample bundles could probably serve as beanbags, but their contents were too scientifically enticing for buttock resting.

  "Can I get my strataglider back?" Ootu asked.

  "No. It's still in pieces after you forgot to disengage the terrain-following autopilot and nearly decapitated two people."

  "Minor calibration issue," Ootu muttered. "Easily fixed."

  "I’m sure it is," Marlo continued. "Nevertheless, Torchers walk everywhere. They refuse technology. You'll have to stroll alongside."

  "And what exactly does our Hub Chief expect me to do?” he asked. “Hold their hands while they commune with nature?"

  "Keep an eye on them," Marlo said. "Report back on what you find. She's concerned they won't survive out there."

  "Huh. Nobody survives out there," Ootu muttered, but his mind was already racing as possibilities opened up. "What's in it for me?"

  "Full control over next quarter's research budget,” Marlo said in a rush, as if he couldn’t quite believe it himself. “Complete discretionary authority."

  Ootu's weathered face split into a grin. "Now you're speaking my language! When do they leave?"

  "Tomorrow at 0500."

  "I'll be ready. Tell Ayan she's made the right choice."

  The connection terminated, and Ootu sat motionless for a moment, processing the opportunity. Beyond the perimeter at last. Into the true Kabus.

  "This calls for a celebration," he decided, reaching for his coat.

  Ten minutes later, Ootu was at the vending machine in the Reception and Entertainment Center, jabbing a thick, gnarly finger at the machine's interface. He cursed softly when it failed to respond. A second, more forceful prod produced a reluctant hum.

  "Triple-strength stimulant. Ethanol additive," the machine murmured.

  "About damned time," Ootu muttered, snatching the cup and taking a sip. The synthetic burn made him grimace. "It’s a poor last taste of civilization," he announced over his shoulder, hoping for a reaction from other patrons.

  But the cavernous space, once designed to welcome hundreds of hopeful arrivals, was now empty. Ootu surveyed the room with a keen eye and noticed a maintenance worker slumped at a corner table in the shadows, staring out a window with an unnatural stillness.

  "Ah," Ootu sighed, then crossed the room.

  "I see that our big friend Mosogon has got your attention," he said gently, easing into the chair opposite.

  The worker's gaze remained fixed on the window, but a slight tilt of his head indicated awareness of Ootu's presence. His pupils were massively dilated, reflecting the gas giant's purple glow from beyond the window.

  "It's not a bad place, you know," said Ootu. "I've had far worse postings. Tadai and its flowering lung disease. Olara Station, where time ate the maintenance crew. The methane skies of Umbaphar." He shrugged. "But only Kabus has the Seep."

  He looked expectantly at the worker, hoping the man might show some interest, but the silence of the empty Reception and Entertainment Center stretched between them. Ootu smiled softly and continued, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. "Yes, the Seep...some suggest it has to do with that planet's radiation signature...that it changes the brain. Scholars call it environmental psychosis, but I'm not buying it."

  He watched the worker carefully, noting the slight twitch at the corner of the man's eye. "People do recover once they leave Kabus, although I've heard that the hallucinations become quite compelling."

  "You... you see it too, right?" the worker finally spoke, voice barely audible.

  Ootu nodded. "Yes, I’ve seen how it—"

  "SHHHH!" The man raised a finger to his lips. "Don't explain it away."

  "Oh, I won't," Ootu promised, reaching for his comm-unit. "But what I will do is get you some help."

  He tapped a message to the medical staff.

  Then he pocketed the device and drained his drink. "Help is on the way," he said. "And tomorrow, I might start finding answers for all of us."

  The worker suddenly grabbed his wrist. "Kabus knows you're coming," he whispered, eyes still fixed on the window.

  Ootu nodded, placing his other hand over the worker's. "That's what I'm counting on," he said quietly.