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the truck began to move again. The ride was longer this time, perhaps ten minutes before they stopped and a voice came out of the ceiling, saying, “We’re here.” A click, and the door to their little chamber popped open. They unbuckled themselves and were assailed again by the stink of fish. Light appeared as the top port opened. Petyr climbed the ladder with Trae right behind him, the driver helping them out.
    They were in a large garage. A sliding metal door was closed behind them. Several men were working on four trucks, and several others watched from a high catwalk along one wall. Four of those men carried rifles, and two others wore the orange robes of priests. The air smelled of solvents and burned metal, and a torch flared beneath one of the trucks as they descended to the floor. The driver pointed to stairs leading up to the catwalk. “You’re expected,” he said, then turned to look straight at Trae. “Good luck.”
    Trae didn’t know what to say, but smiled at the man, and Petyr smiled at him doing that, so apparently it was okay. Petyr held his elbow; they went to the stairs and climbed them together. The two priests met them at the top, other men pushing in around them, rifles at the ready.
    “Petyr,” said one man, and extended a hand, but his eyes were on Trae.
    Petyr shook the man’s hand. “I appreciate the risk you’re taking, Joseph.”
    “It’s no risk at all, not for this young man.” The man called Joseph extended his hand to Trae. “So, at last you’re ready to be sent into the world, and we’re to be a part of your journey.” He smiled.
    “Thank you, sir,” said Trae.
    “You favor your mother, I think,” said Joseph, then turned to his orange-robed colleague and pulled him closer. “This is Abelius, the rector for this cell. He handles the day to day business here, and will arrange your travel out of Lycos.”
    Abelius shook his hand, but said nothing, giving Trae a disturbing look that seemed almost reverent. The guards surrounding them seemed to be pressing closer to also look at him. Trae looked around at the heavily armed men.
    “Are you expecting trouble?”
    Joseph laughed. “It’s routine. Our workers come and go, and security checks are not perfect. The Emperor has his spies and assassins in places you wouldn’t imagine. We’ve survived all these years by being cautious, but perhaps the time will come when our lives can be open and free.”
    “If it be the will of The Source,” said Abelius softly.
    “Of course,” said Joseph, “as long as we remember there are no miracles without our own efforts to achieve change. Let’s see to our guests.”
    Surrounded closely by their guards, Joseph and Abelius led them along the catwalk to a door, then down a long hallway to another door opening to a room with tables and chairs and the odor of bread baking. Two guards entered with them, the others remaining in the hall. The door was closed and locked from inside. A man came out a side door leading to a shining metal galley and served them hot chocolate drinks and pastries. The priests excused themselves and exited the room, but the guards remained. Petyr seemed particularly alert, cocking his head to one side as if listening for something, and then Joseph returned a few minutes later.
    “Your room is ready. You’ll have a couple of hours to sleep, and then a car will come to take you elsewhere. Your final destination on Gan will be achieved in several steps, and each cell has knowledge of only one of them. It’s for your safety.”
    “I understand,” said Petyr.
    Joseph waited silently until they’d finished eating, but kept looking at Trae and smiling at him. Trae was bothered by it, but said nothing, and soon the priest led them to a simple room with two cots, and hooks on the walls for their clothing. He locked them inside, and went away. Petyr got under his thin blanket with all his clothes on, and advised Trae to do the same.
    “We might have to move