25

Timbella was stroking Deeter's hair when there was a knock on the door. He pulled back and looked at her. She stared back, shrugged, then put her finger to her lips.

She crept to the door and looked. Whoever it was chose that moment to knock again, knocking firmer. She walked backwards to Deeter, and whispered, very softly, "Ready that taser."

He did so. Watcher? How would she know? At best, someone she didn't want coming in. At worst, someone she didn't know, and who else would it be, but a Watcher? He pulled out the taser and made sure it was switched ON.

She pulled him gently towards the door. It opened inwards, and she put him by the hinges. She stood where the door would open, put her finger on her lips again, and said, "Who is it?"

The knocking ceased. "Officer Mynog," came the reply. Deeter froze. A Watcher, and what's more, one he'd been captured by before. He hoped his look, and readying the taser, would be enough for her to understand.

"Officer? What are, crazy? This is Kwee City! I know my rights, you bastard."

"You're harboring a fugitive. You don't have many rights in this situation."

"A fugitive? Are you shitting me?"

"Cut the bullshit, woman. Open the door or I'll break it down."

She mouthed something too quietly for the translator to pick up, but he figured it meant "Get ready." He nodded at her, and she said "If that's what it takes," then unlocked the door. "Come on in."

He opened the door. "I hope you'll be reasonable about this." Deeter could only see the back of his head as he closed the door behind him without looking. He supposed it could have been another Watcher, but the voice, the significant height, and the dark greased-back hair all pointed to Mynog. "Where is he?"

"He must be in the kitchen," she said, and then Deeter pulled the trigger. The cartridge shot out and hit his locally-suitable suit jacket. He began convulsing and fell to the ground. Deeter turned off the gun, pulled the cartridge off Mynog's back, and hit the REWIND button. The cartridge wires wound back up, pulling the cartridge with it. It had taken less than a minute, and only after replacing the taser did he realize what had happened. He let out a shriek and almost collapsed, right next to Mynog.

"Crap! Deeter!" She slapped his face, albeit gently.

"I'm fine," he croaked. He took a deep breath. "Fine," he repeated in a more normal voice.

"I'm sure. We better get the hell out of here. If one can find you, another can."

He let out a weak chuckle. "Can't we tie him up and torture him a little first?"

"Sure, if you think that's more important."

"A joke. Grab some clothes and let's run."

"Although maybe tying him up isn't a bad idea." She went into the kitchen and came back with twine and scissors. "It's not much but it'll keep him occupied when he wakes up."

Deeter nodded. They split it up, him doing the ankles, her doing the wrists. Afterwards, she stood up and went to get a small bag. "It's already got a day's worth of clothing in it. Parents are demanding sometimes." She grabbed her purse and keys and led Deeter out of her apartment.

Once outside, she said softly, "We'll check into a hotel at the end of the train line, and then figure things out."

He nodded. He was still a bit faded from the attack. He couldn't believe that Mynog was still after him. Well, now he would be, certainly. Being knocked out could make one take things more personally...

24 - flashback ends

The place that Hypose took Deeter Zor to was not what he expected. He expected a shop like the map shop, with various types of empty books rather than... nothing. Not even some sort of "electrical" device that you could write on. Instead there were devices, slightly bigger than the bloodstones, which apparently you could talk into. Voice recorders. The one Hypose picked out for him was so small he didn't understand how it worked. And for once his translator failed him. The words were probably translated properly, but he still had no idea what they meant.

Hypose realized this, and tried to explain in a more basic manner. "Sound travels through air but also water and solid substances. The noise in your head when you speak is different than the noise everyone else hears. This will record that noise."

"But it has to be put in my head?" Apparently he had not misunderstood that part.

"Correct. Our surgeons are far more advanced than any physician you would ever have experienced, have no fear."

"I'm not afraid. What's to be afraid of, some perfect stranger cutting into my skull to implant some strange electric device," he muttered.

"You will be drugged and feel nothing. You can even be unconscious for the whole thing if you like."

Deeter considered. Was it worse to be awake or asleep, for this apparently routine procedure? This wasn't even a physician's office; merely someone who specialized in inserting these electronic journals. "Asleep, please."

Hypose told the specialist, and the man brought over a few small pills. "Take two," he said.

Deeter did so, and was then led to a back room. It was sparkling clean, and he lay on a white padded table in the center, face down. He began to feel relaxed, and more relieved and even happy. Floaty. "Oh, don't be alarmed if my blood is clear," he remembered to say before losing consciousness.

The next thing he knew, Hypose was forcing him to drink water. Or honeyed water. It was slightly sweet at least. He felt the back of his head. A small bandage was the only evidence. "Where is he?"

"He didn't believe you. I admit I wasn't sure if I should or not either."

"Believe what?"

"Your blood being transparent."

"Oh. That." He shrugged. "It runs in the family."

"That's amazing. You must not be fully human. There must have been some other race when your planet was seeded."

"I suppose. So was he so shocked he didn't perform the procedure?"

"He performed it all right. I reminded him that we paid in advance, and it would endanger his livelihood if he didn't."

Deeter groaned. "I still feel fuzzy-headed."

"That'll be the anaesthetic. We'll get some fresh air, and supper, that should help."

It did help. He felt better by the time they got to the restaurant, but he noticed Hypose was more stand-offish. So he continued to act fuzzy-headed, and Hypose stayed more formal. He did help him stand up, after they ate, but he left him at the door to the hotel, rather than his room. A kiss on the cheek, and he was gone.

His final words: "I'd like to see you again, but it's for the best if you are gone when I come back tomorrow."

23 - flashback continues

The city of Akinal was like nothing Deeter Zor had seen. He had seen all of the country his family ruled, but it couldn't have possibly prepared him for advanced civilization. Even something as simple as a map shop - something he'd seen before, in Shringston - overwhelmed him. He did his best to keep it hidden, and his years of diplomacy training helped.

Hypose paid for him, and when they left, Deeter spoke up. "I'm not destitute, you know."

"I know. You just don't have local currency, shall we say?"

In response Deeter pulled out a few of the crown's jewels that he had taken before fleeing. "These won't do, I suppose."

Hypose raised his thick bushy eyebrows. "Perhaps they will. But I must be honest with you. I know your secret."

Deeter stopped from sheer terror, dropping his jaw, but Hypose gently took his hand. "I know you are an alien," he said softly, "and if you aren't careful, the Watchers will find you."

This was not what he was expecting. "I - I don't think I understand," he said, taking back his hand.

Hypose explained about the Watchers. How they seeded many planets across the galaxy with humans. How they continued to interfere with them. "Some blasted 'prime' directive that says each planet must remain as it is, without interference. Their interference doesn't count, of course. I do not know how you managed to get here without alerting them, but I'm afraid you won't be safe for long."

At first he refused to believe him, although he was far too polite to say anything. "Then can you take me somewhere that I can get a bit of money? Just enough for today and tonight."

Hypose sighed but took him to a jeweler's. He took over the transaction, only selling a few of the jewels for more than Deeter thought reasonable. But then, perhaps jewels were relatively rare here. That would explain it, he thought at first, but they soon arrived at an inn. The price for one night was almost as much as the entire price of the jewels. He remained polite, however, until they got to the room.

"Are things truly so expensive here?"

Hypose laughed. "I suppose it seems so to you, doesn't it? This hotel is a cheaper one, actually."

"Incredible. Another good reason to leave."

He nodded. "If you can, find planets that are more like yours. Any kind of energy powering things beyond physical, the jewels you carry will not be worth much. Food at least is cheap here, relatively speaking at least. And you should get a bag, and a change of clothing."

All very practical notions. "I want a journal, as well," he said.

"Ah, now that's something else. You don't want one that could be stolen. I have just the thing. Wait here while I arrange it."

He waited. The hotel room was, like the rest of the city, unreal. White, white walls, an enormous, feather-soft bed, and huge windows of glass. Or perhaps not glass, as it sounded strange when he tapped it. There was a painting of a boy playing with some sort of animal. He supposed it was supposed to make visitors feel comforted.

It wasn't really that long before Hypose knocked on his door. The door flashed red, and showed a red Hypose on it, which was a bit startling. "Come in," he called out.

"You have to open it from the inside," came the reply.

Feeling like an idiot, he did so. "I didn't think I'd locked it."

"It locks automatically. You have the card?"

He held up the card that he had been given upon check-in. Hypose showed him to use it to open the door, and then they went to get his journal.

22

Deeter Zor was still panicked. He was feeling as if he'd just managed to escape from the Watchers again. He was beginning to calm down, but Timbella had inadvertently pulled out some issues that he wasn't able to cope with.

His life had been simple enough, a few months ago. He was the second son, and there was a place for him. He was little more than decoration, it seemed, and he was content with this. Anect bore the responsibilities, the title, the pressure. Nothing had pleased him more than to think about never being ruler. He could sit on a fur and stare at a fire and think about it for hours. Or walk in the woods, smiling and whistling a jaunty tune, thinking about not being the crown prince.

All that changed in short order. His only true friends, he knew, were Anect and Laerne, and they both seemed to disappear within a day of each other. He had found her immediately upon learning of Anect's disappearance, and she had told him that the searches that were sure to come would disrupt her life. The forest was her life, and too many people combing it for a lost prince would ruin it. So she left him and the forest, but not without the translator and hints of the other jewels.

It had been simple enough to find them. They looked like rubies on first glance, but there was something off about them. They sparkled too much. He was no gemologist, but he did have a little experience in precious stones, and these seemed like diamonds. That was enough for him, and he held one in each hand, and thought of Ariel. Ariel, who also ran away. Was it something in the family? She had born four children before leaving forever, he remembered thinking, just before the portal appeared.

The first time he saw the portal was only slightly more astounding than the other times. He felt incredible fear, and had no idea what he was doing, but he couldn't have stopped himself even if he wanted to. On the other side was a world like nothing he could have imagined. He wandered around in a bit of a daze, staring at the impossibly tall structures that gleamed in the sun like ivory.

A man took pity on him. He was old, almost as old as his father. Slender, almost his height, and balding grey hair. Like almost everyone else, he wore a simple tunic. Unlike everyone else, his was white and hung loose around his frame. His nose was enormous and his smile was sad. "You look lost," he said.

"I suppose I am at that." Deeter flashed a winsome grin at him, suspecting ulterior motives. "Could you possibly direct me to a shop where I can purchase a map and a diary?"

"Certainly. My name is Hypose." He gave a slight bow at this. Deeter returned the bow, stating his name, and they walked together to the store.

"Is this your first visit to Akinal?" Hypose asked politely.

"It's obvious, isn't it. I'd hoped to be less obvious, but it's too obvious."

He chuckled. "I'm afraid so."

"Yes, I'm really a rural character. This place is - well, it's more amazing than I'd imagined, in all honesty."

The shop was a map store. It sold maps of all manner and shapes. He bought a paper street map, except that it wasn't actually paper. Hypose kindly showed him how the flexible paper worked, by "scrolling" around using your finger.

He was slowly beginning to understand what had happened. Like all people of his world (or so he had supposed), he believed other planets existed - where else would you go after you died? - but it was shocking that they had people like him upon them. People who still appeared to be living, and who had advanced far beyond his culture. But some things never changed. He had learned how to politely divert the advances of both men and women - had to, since he was ten or so. If he didn't, or instead tattled, the person ended up beaten and imprisoned.

So he was genial to Hypose but not overly familiar. He would give him companionship but nothing else. He did need help, and would pay him back as much as he could, but that was all.

21

"You sure have a strange life."

Deeter Zor stared at Timbella. "Why, because I was raised as the second prince of Shringston, or because I travel the galaxy via portals created by gemstones?"

"Well, I was thinking of the former, actually. The traveling thing sounds super. I wish I could come with you."

Deeter hesitated. "I'm supposed to say that couldn't happen, but honestly it would make things much easier. Especially if we annoyed the Professor too much for us to use him."

"I don't think we did, but... are you serious?"

"Well, if I had a legitimate companion who could use her local identification and such, while I paid for things, we could do quite a bit better, than I could on my own."

Timbella was quiet for a few minutes. "Let's talk to the Professor one more time, he's coming over tomorrow, but just so we can use him to get contacts. I'm thinking we can rent a car and then use fake names at hotels and stuff. And if these Watchers come after you, we can make them sorry. Even if they just look human, they can probably be killed just the same."

"That's not exactly what I wanted to do..."

"Oh, sorry, I thought you were serious about not wanting to take the responsibility of the throne."

"I am serious." He bit his lip. "Ever since I was a child I had nightmares about .. that. My brother dying. I didn't just leave for - I can't... You don't understand... My whole life I was - I never was very happy, you see... But I could always say, It could be worse, I could be the crown prince... My father is still alive, I wouldn't be king for a while, that isn't it at all."

She put her arms around him. "Deeter, you're babbling. Shut up." Her hands felt hot against his shirt. He felt faint.

"I'm sorry. I just, I just wanted you to see, I know I didn't do anything admirable or honorable, I know I'm a coward, but I do know it, I know what terrifies me, and -"

He stopped talking because her lips were on his. "Shut. Up."

He tried to get into the kiss. It was difficult, his body was still reacting to that thought. "I'm sorry," he said again.

"It's ok. I was just trying to explain that killing a Watcher might be the only way to avoid that shit."

He shook his head. "I think that would just make it worse. There's clearly disagreement among them about me, but killing one would solidify their resolve. Perhaps they wouldn't even try to retrieve me, but simply would kill me in return and call it self-defense."

20

"A fucking prince," Timbella said again.

Deeter felt strange. He had never told anyone as much about himself before. He felt a sense of relief. But he was still shaking. "I was the second son. My path was to learn diplomacy. I didn't need much else."

"Yeah, throne insurance. We still have monarchy here but only a few countries give them any power. They mainly just have the inherited money from land grabs."

"Who has the power?"

"The people, technically. It's a little more complicated than that. Kwee City, for example, is supposed to be a democracy, but it's mainly run by a select elite. The same people whose ancestors created it, more or less."

He frowned. "I understand that my people are leaders because of the non-human parts. It's all legend but apparently it made us smarter and faster and stronger than the humans we conquered. I don't really know. I haven't really felt very smart or able since leaving home."

"So you really don't know what the non-human part of you is? Or even if you really are actually partly non-human?"

"Oh, I know that for sure. You have red blood, do you not?"

"Yeah..."

"We don't."

"No shit? What color is it?"

"Well, it depends." He shifted his legs underneath him. "I've only seen it during accidents, or when I was ill. Typically clear, but exposure to air and infections change it."

"Clear blood? Woah, no wonder you guys could conquer humans. I bet that would psyche people out, if they attacked you and couldn't really see the wounds," she exclaimed.

He shrugged. "I suppose. Our realms are rather peaceful at the moment. Anyway, there's a test that young royal children have to go through to prove they aren't, um, well, bastards. I'd forgotten about till you asked about the blood."

She raised her eyebrows. "They cut little kids?"

He nodded. "Simply a pinprick. The other part of the test involves the priests."

"I really am getting afraid now."

"It was somewhat frightening," he admitted. "I was only seven. I didn't understand what was going on. But they can read minds."

"Serious? Religious leaders can read minds? That sounds really frightening."

He smiled. "Not the minds of the royalty. Something about the non-human blood prevents them, and causes both the priest and the child great pain."

She pondered this. "That definitely explains a bit better why you guys are in charge, then."

19

Deeter Zor was trying to think. As usual, he did so aloud. "So perhaps my ancestor spilled blood by pure accident. Or perhaps she had to spill her blood in order to travel as I do."

"Yeah, you said the Watcher had no idea you used gems to travel, so there's no way she did," agreed Timbella. "Although, wasn't that like a hundred years ago?"

"I believe the Watchers are far longer-lived than we are."

"I guess. I still can't believe there are aliens trying to - to protect us. Ugh." She shivered.

"I agree with your sentiment. What gives them the right?"

"What do they look like?"

He shrugged. "The ones I've seen appear human, but I suspect that to be a mere facade. I once punched one in the - the privates and he didn't react as a human would. It did allow me to escape, but he didn't collapse or anything like that."

"Ha, that'd be something I'd like to see!" She grinned. "I guess they have ways of appearing human so they won't startle people."

"The one I told you about could even speak my native tongue."

"I wonder if he's gonna show up," she growled.

"Perhaps. I was foolish to use my stones again here. But cities like this are a bit safer. The more people, the better."

She nodded. "But they can track you? Do they have your like, genetic code or something?"

He frowned. "No, the heat signature? I think."

"He told you?"

He nodded. "He had glasses which could see heat instead of light."

"Oh, infrared. Higher frequency than red light."

"You mean lower?" That was what the prefix was supposed to mean, at least.

"Whatever. Light travels in waves that can be divided up into visible and invisible ones. Like the rainbow?"

"I don't think I'm going to get this," he told her.

"Whatever. So he can see your heat signature? That's kind of a weird way to do it."

He hesitated. "Well, it would be, except that there's something else I haven't told you."

"Oh, great." She sprawled across the couch. "You have some sort of incurable venereal disease that only magic can cure?"

"What? No, no, nothing like that. But my heat signature is lower than yours."

"Um, ok. Did he tell you that too?"

"Yes, it's lower than all humans'."

She sat up stark straight. "You aren't human? You lied to me about being human?"

"I'm part human! Ariel was human! Many of my ancestors were human!"

"Um, then what's the other part?"

He shrugged, frowning. "And the final thing I can tell you that I haven't yet: the royal families on my world all have this nonhuman blood."

She gaped at him again. "Royal? You said you were a diplomat!"

"I was... being diplomatic. I didn't think you would believe that I was a prince."

She shook her head. "A fucking prince! Is that why they're after you?"

"In a nutshell."

"Oh no, you aren't doing that again. Tell me straight up."

"Straight up?"

"The truth!"

He took a deep breath. "My older brother was the crown prince. He disappeared four months ago. As soon as I realized he wasn't returning, I ran."

18

Timbella hadn't said a word for several minutes. She used the toilet, and brought back a glass of water, but kept quiet. Deeter supposed she didn't want to believe the evidence of her eyes.

The telephone rang. She got up, almost automatically, and answered it. "Hello? Oh... Yeah. You, uh, you don't want to know. I know... I know... It was not my idea. We're both very sorry... ok, if you don't want to deal with him, that's fine. THAT'S FINE! .. OK. Right. Game on. Forget it happened. I sure am trying." She hung up the phone and resumed her silence.

Deeter hazarded a guess. "The Professor?"

"Gee, you think?" She seemed to snap out of it for real. "What the fuck were you fucking thinking, Deeter? You could have just taken me outside, or near the shop where we met, why the fuck did you bring me there?"

"I - I - wanted t-to tell him."

"The Professor isn't just some jackass! He's a fucking criminal! He doesn't take fucking kindly to people showing up unannounced in his private sanctuary, ok? He was gonna fucking shoot us before your stupid fucking gemstones could have brought us out, ok?" Tears began to roll down her face. "Oh, what am I saying, you don't even know what the fuck a gun is," she sniffled.

He shook his head. "Long range weapon?"

"Uh, yeah. Instant reload and attack. Kills men dead where they stand. It ain't magic, neither. That taser you bought is kiddie stuff compared to lead bullets."

He put his hand against his forehead. "And now he won't meet with us?"

"Oh, he doesn't really believe the story we gave, and we weren't gone long enough for me to be home and answer my phone, so he's intrigued to the point that he wants a real explanation. But instead of what we originally said, he's gonna come here tomorrow night and get a full explanation, then take us to the guys." She frowned. "Why the hell do you need smugglers if you can travel anywhere?"

"Well, clearly these things are not easily hidden. The portals, I mean. Anytime I make one, the Watchers can track me."

Her face lit up. "Oh! And you never tried traveling any other way?"

"No, I was mostly visiting older-tech worlds like my own. Only the first few, before I realized I couldn't really handle places like this, or more advanced."

"So you just ... tell them? Where you want to go?"

"I mainly try concentrating on the sort of place I would like to go," he explained. "But this last time, I was with a Watcher, so it was a bit rushed."

"Woah you got caught?"

"Not exactly," he said, and explained what had happened. "So he lulled me enough to get me to show him the gems, and... he figured out how they had been created."

"By 'magic'?"

"I'm not sure," he admitted. "He claimed that Ariel didn't perform magic, so I don't see how a blood ceremony would have worked." At her blank look, he added, "Ariel was my great-great-great-grandmother, who fled our realm. This is a fact, but what few know is that before fleeing, she created these jewels. At first I assumed that she created more than these, and fled with one pair, but..."

"Why would she create an extra pair to leave behind?"

"That's what I can't figure out," he admitted. "Or how she did it without magic."

"May I hold one?" Deeter gave her the one in his right hand, and they both stared at the gems. "Red from blood. How would this guy know she wasn't able to use magic?"

"I did not stay to find out. He simply said 'we thought you were like Ariel at first.'"

She toyed with the gem, admiring the way the light shone upon it. "Maybe she had a scientific way of doing it?"

"I don't think that's possible. Prosstig was nearly convinced I used 'magic' till he realized it was Ariel's blood. There must be something strange in her blood."

"Something strange? It let her travel through space and time!"

They gaped at each other.

17

Lunch was strange. First, she spoke into a "telephone" to order it. A kitchen on the other telephone prepared the meal, then a delivery person brought it to her house in exchange for money. He supposed in a place with high speed tranport, this made sense.

Then there was the food. A small grain, in great quantities. Small strips of meat and vegetables. That wasn't so strange, exactly, but the sauce tying everything together was like nothing Deeter had ever tasted. Sweet, sour, spicey, salty and bitter all at once, in a wonderfully marvelous combination.

"Look at you trying to put it away," Timbella laughed at one point.

He smiled and swallowed. "Unfortunately I am not often able to eat very much on my travels. My stomach is not very big, I will have to stop eating now."

"Your travels to escape the intergalactic police, huh?"

"Do I detect a tiny bit of skepticism?"

She shrugged, then began putting away the food. "You've admitted that you're totally low tech, so I don't get how you can escape these guys. I mean, I don't really believe they exist. I guess part of your story is reasonable, you do have that translator, and sure, I don't know every language on the planet, but none that I've heard sound anything like what you said without it."

"Doesn't it make more sense that I'm a low-tech person who only knows about the Watchers because I was told about them?

She came back from putting the food away. "Well, you could have just made them up. Maybe you're crazy and just found that thing randomly and made up a big story to support it."

"I haven't even told you where I got it."

She sat next to him again. "No, you just said it was magic, and yeah, I kinda stopped paying attention after that. I mean, magic doesn't exist here outside of myths and legends. I mean, you know, doesn't all the stuff we have here seem like magic to you?"

"Not really, because the kind of magic with which I'm familiar is very, um, nature-centered."

She pursed her lips. "Maybe magic only exists where you're from."

"If that were true, why would my translator work?"

"How does it work anyway!" she nearly shouted.

"Calm down."

She sighed. "Maybe it's a virus. Um, a life form too small to see without a microscope."

"Ah yes, that makes so much more sense," he said dryly. "I only showed you that because it was simpler than my other magical tool."

"Which is?"

"How I escaped from the Watchers."

She stared at him. "BUT WHAT IS IT."

He pulled the leather straps up to retrieve the jewel. "This. It's one of a pair that I use to travel."

"Oh. Of course, teleportation." She rolled her eyes.

He brought out the other one and put one in each of his hands. He concentrated on the Professor's flat, and the portal appeared.

"Holy fuck!"

"Come on," he said, extending his hand. She took it, very cautiously. They walked through, to the space between, and through another portal.

"Shit, we're back at the Professor's. Oh man, he's gonna be pissed."

"Timby?" called a voice.

"Yeah Prof, it's me and Deeter again. He thought he'd show off. Please don't shoot us."

The Professor came out from behind one of the screens. He was holding a rather large black metal device, with two tubes and a handle. He lowered it when he saw that they were indeed whom they said they were.

"How the fuck did you get in here?"

"Deeter showing off," she repeated. "He has mad lockpick skillz. It's partly my fault, I totally didn't think he could break your systems."

He nodded. "OK, I don't really believe this, but I'm gonna hit the toilet. You guys better be long gone with everything intact by the time I get back, got it?"

"Got it," she said. As soon as he turned his back, Timbella clutched Deeter's shoulder. "You fucking imbecile. He would have killed us."

Deeter swallowed, but kept quiet, and returned them back to her place.