A soft golden glow bathed the base camp as the first rays of sunlight filtered through the canopy. Morning dew clung to the tents, while the broad leaves of this strange world’s trees still held the water gathered during the night. The gentle trickle of a small water pool, stirred now and then by a breeze blowing in from the desert, barely broke the peaceful silence. A damp scent lingered in the air, carrying with it a surprising freshness in this desert landscape—a paradoxical beauty, raw and undeniable.

  Sitting on a rock, Adam had been awake long before the others, quietly contemplating this harsh world, both fascinating and unsettling. Soon, this place would be nothing more than a barren expanse, scorched and stripped of every drop of water by the merciless glare of its parent star. This fleeting freshness would vanish along with it. Lost in thought, he wondered what the day might bring. The camp was ready, and the day before they had uncovered a curious metallic fragment. Was it the clue they had been searching for? Or just a false lead in this endless sterile desert?

  Dawn’s light also marked the slow stirring of the rest of the team. Eamon was the first to emerge from his tent, savoring a moment of solitude before making sure everyone else was ready. Koros was already busy preparing the midday meal. Breakfast was set out: exotic fruits gathered from across the Consortium, golden pastries, and a few savory dishes—enough variety to satisfy every appetite.

  Eamon noticed Adam, sitting alone and lost in thought. He approached carefully, not wanting to disturb his reflection.

  “Sleep well?” Eamon asked, gently breaking the silence.

  Adam, his eyes still fixed on the horizon, answered absently.

  “Not really. Could’ve been better.”

  Eamon nodded with understanding.

  “The first night on a new world is rarely restful. The unknown weighs on the mind, and the anticipation of discovery keeps it restless. You’re not the first to struggle, especially under these circumstances.”

  Adam remained quiet a moment, then murmured:

  “It’s not just the lack of sleep. Ever since we found that fragment, I’ve had this strange feeling… like something’s slipping past us.”

  Eamon let out a warm chuckle.

  “That feeling, you know… I’ve had it a thousand times. And every time, it came right before a big discovery. Maybe it’s your instincts talking. You should listen to them.”

  Adam shrugged slightly, still skeptical.

  “Maybe. Who knows? We’ll see what the day brings.”

  Eamon placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

  “For now, come eat. A good meal always clears the mind. Look over there—the others have already started. If you don’t hurry, there won’t be anything left for you, and I doubt Koros will make seconds.”

  A faint smile tugged at Adam’s lips. Eamon’s enthusiasm—sometimes overwhelming—had a way of lightening the mood.

  “Alright, I’m coming. But don’t count on me to do the dishes.”

  Eamon burst out laughing.

  “Now that’s a promise I can’t make!”

  The two men walked back toward the camp as the sun climbed higher, wrapping the landscape in a growing warmth. A busy day lay ahead, and deep down they all knew this world still held many secrets waiting to be uncovered.

  Moments later, after a hearty meal, the day’s plan was set. As the day before, they split into two pairs: Kiran and Zena would explore the zone east of the artifact, while Adam and Eamon headed west to continue their investigation. Koros would stay at camp, examining the artifact in depth—studying it closely, cross-checking the collected data, and trying to place it chronologically to confirm or challenge Eamon’s theories.

  The sun rose higher, spilling golden and rose hues across the horizon. At precisely eight o’clock, the two teams set off. They waved goodbye with a simple gesture before parting ways, each carrying an intercom to stay in touch in case of discoveries—or danger.

  Kiran and Zena followed the directions in silence for nearly an hour. The golden dunes gave way to a vast expanse of cracked, reddish earth. Here, the ground was hard and fractured like broken pottery, scarred by the relentless heat of the sun. Each step kicked up a puff of dry dust, and the air seemed to shimmer with oppressive heat. This barren, hostile landscape was more than a study site—it was a silent testimony to the grim fate awaiting this world: a slow collapse into total desolation.

  Zena broke the silence first, raising her canteen for a much-needed sip.

  “Here we are, Kiran. This is the area Eamon marked.” Her voice, slightly hoarse, already betrayed the toll of the heat.

  Kiran scanned the surroundings, squinting to pierce the shimmering haze.

  “Well, it’s… roasted out here. Let’s hope we don’t end up shriveled like this ground!” he joked, trying to ease the oppressive atmosphere.

  Zena raised an eyebrow, half-amused, half-exasperated.

  “Very funny. But don’t push it—temperatures here are much higher than at our starting point. This won’t be a stroll.” She screwed her canteen shut with deliberate care, unwilling to waste a single drop of this precious resource.

  Pragmatic as ever, Kiran got right to work. He dropped his pack and pulled out a set of instruments: an analysis grid, portable sensors, and an electronic notebook.

  Stolen story; please report.

  “In that case, let’s get started. We’ll grid the area and pinpoint the most promising geological outcrops. We’ve got days of work ahead of us—might as well dive in now.”

  His professional energy seemed unshaken, even under the smothering heat. Zena watched him for a moment, grudgingly impressed, then took a deep breath and nodded, joining in his preparations. The day had only just begun, and they would need every ounce of strength, physical and mental, to see their mission through.

  Meanwhile to the west, Adam and Eamon stood before a vast dried-out basin, its chalky white surface streaked with gray. Flat as a table, the old lakebed contrasted starkly with the golden dunes around it. Hot, howling winds whipped across the plain, lashing their faces despite their scarves and protective goggles.

  “This place is even more hostile than I expected!” shouted Eamon, his voice raised above the roar. “We won’t find anything useful here!”

  Beside him, Adam struggled to keep his balance against the gusts, scanning the barren expanse.

  “Was this a lake once? Or maybe a sea?” he called out.

  Eamon nodded, squinting behind tinted lenses.

  “Yes, without a doubt! But unless you’re looking for fish fossils, there won’t be anything Esthèrian down there!”

  Adam, half-hidden by his scarf, cast a doubtful glance across the glaring white void. His words were nearly swallowed by the wind.

  “Either way, we won’t last long in this gale… even our gear can’t withstand it.”

  Eamon frowned, clearly frustrated by the harsh conditions. He scanned the edges of the basin until his gaze caught on a cluster of weathered rock formations.

  “Let’s stick to the rim of the lakebed! Behind those outcrops we’ll be sheltered from the wind!”

  He motioned to Adam and pressed forward. The stones, smoothed by millennia of erosion, formed a natural barrier. Step by step, they fought their way there, the roar of the gale easing with every stride.

  Behind the rocks, a relative calm set in—a welcome relief. Adam tugged down his scarf for a fuller breath of air, watching Eamon ready his tools. The old scholar, steady despite the extremes, already looked absorbed in their task.

  “We can work here,” he said simply, his words heavy with pragmatism.

  Adam nodded, bracing for careful exploration.

  The archaeologist adjusted his monocle, removed it, and wiped away the sand with methodical precision. Once satisfied, he set it back in place, his eyes narrowing with focus. Kneeling in the dust, he traced a quick sketch with his finger—lines and circles, evidence of his orderly mind.

  “Alright, let’s recap,” he began, calm yet authoritative, drawing Adam’s full attention. “The camp is here.” He marked a point, then circled another. “The artifact was found here, near this cliff.”

  Adam nodded, absorbing every word. The professor’s tone grew livelier, tinged with studious excitement.

  “From there we pushed west and reached this dry basin, an ancient lakebed. Proof that this world was once hospitable. Now—let’s assume the Esthèrians were a typical civilization, building as we know others have. They would likely have settled around water, on these shores where life could flourish.”

  Adam leaned in, brow furrowed in thought.

  “So you think they built their homes or structures along the edges, just like we build near rivers and lakes?”

  The professor smiled faintly, pleased by his student’s intuition.

  “Exactly. Water, fertile land… everything a civilization needs. Even in today’s wasteland, those shores must once have been alive. Now—let’s get to work. This world’s treasures are waiting.”

  Hour after hour, the land turned into a furnace. The sun struck mercilessly, the air shimmering with suffocating heat. Every breath was labor, every step calculated. By now Zena and Kiran had finished mapping their grid, clothes stained with sweat and dust, and had marked two promising outcrops.

  Exhausted but resolute, Zena rose, brushing soil from her hands. She glanced at a cracked, timeworn formation.

  “Maybe we’ll get lucky here,” she whispered, her voice nearly carried away by the heat.

  Nearby, Kiran checked their dwindling water supply. His face, usually cheerful, was serious now.

  “Let’s hope so… But at this temperature, we can’t dig for long. An hour at most, before we head back. Two-thirty—no later.”

  Zena nodded, fully aware of the limit. She wiped sweat from her brow and surveyed the wavering horizon. The earth itself radiated scorching heat.

  “Alright then. No time to waste.” She grabbed her multipurpose tool, urgency in her movements. “We’ll focus on the most promising spot. If nothing turns up, we’ll return tomorrow.”

  Kiran tightened his straps, ready. The two explorers moved toward the chosen outcrop, their shapes blurred in the rising heat.

  Back in the shelter of the basin’s edge, Adam broke the silence.

  “Doctor, I’ve been wondering…” His voice was hesitant.

  Eamon looked up from a stone patterned with natural striations.

  “Yes?”

  Adam paused, then spoke carefully.

  “How did you really know about Oberon? At first glance, nothing here seems connected to the Esthèrians.”

  Eamon smiled faintly, a mix of pride and amusement. He set down the stone and crossed his arms.

  “The clues came from the Martian Library. In its oldest texts, there are references to a place lying somewhere between Hedora and Neuror. Of course, those names didn’t exist then, but the spatial coordinates—shifted by time and expansion—matched.”

  He paused, eyes distant, as if retracing calculations in his mind.

  “Thanks to Koros’s brilliance, we deciphered the data, translating those ancient points into modern star maps.”

  Adam nodded slowly, impressed but still uneasy.

  “I see… But there’s more to it, isn’t there?”

  Eamon’s eyes narrowed slightly, caught off guard by his persistence.

  “Yes,” he admitted with a sigh. “We’d never have pinpointed the exact location without help from a smuggler named Tcherk-To. He’s a combat android, but with a habit of collecting and reselling rare data. He possessed lost archives that confirmed our suspicions and refined our destination.”

  Adam frowned, unease creeping in.

  “Wait… You’re saying we don’t have any official authorization to be here?”

  Eamon froze, silence weighing heavy. The wind picked up, amplifying the moment. Finally, he spoke in a lower, graver tone.

  “That’s right… You’re perceptive, my young friend. One of your many talents. As you know, Esthèrian studies are strictly controlled—practically forbidden. In truth, archaeology itself is considered a proscribed activity. That’s the path imposed by the Consortium.”

  He studied Adam’s face, gauging his reaction, before continuing more firmly.

  “Still, countless truths can be uncovered by other means. We’re not here for profit or malice—we’re here for knowledge. For science. But yes… it means our presence must remain hidden. And brief. At most, we have a few weeks before the Consortium starts asking questions.”