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

  Marlo wasn’t leaving.

  Ayan had tried everything. She had cleared away the drinks, returned the playing cards to their box, and stared meaningfully at the door. Now, she rattled around her storage shelves, selecting items to put in her pack.

  Marlo continued to sit at the table in the middle of her quarters.

  “You know,” he said slowly, toying with his empty glass, “I think I’ve got it.”

  “Got what?” Ayan asked as she pulled a used canvas from the top shelf. It showed Kabus’ canopy, as seen from a height.

  “I know why the Torchers have come.”

  “Uh-huh.” She set aside the canvas. It was one she actually liked.

  “Yeah…well, you know how they get all mysterious about their Passages?" He spoke in what he probably believed was a meaningful tone. "I think they're corporate spies."

  Ayan slid a far less aesthetic canvas into her pack, then turned to stare at him. "Corporate spies?"

  "Yes! Think about it!" Marlo leaned forward. "They show up on these frontier worlds after all the hard work has been done. They 'walk the land' without technology. They take these weird names that no one can remember..." He tapped his head for emphasis. "Classic corporate espionage tactics."

  “You’ve been watching far too many insider docs,” said Ayan as she reached for her box of oil paints. “For what possible reason would corporate spies come to Kabus?"

  "Resource assessment, of course! They're gathering intel the old-fashioned way to avoid detection. Did you see those talismans on some of them?”

  “Yes. I thought they were rather tasteful.”

  “Micro-sensors." Marlo nodded confidently. "I’m telling you! I bet they work for BlareDan or one of those mega-corps looking to swoop in once poor grunts like us have established a foothold."

  Ayan heaved her pack on the table and shoved it into the centre. Her assistant finally noticed what she was doing.

  "Hey, wait.” A frown developed on his handsome face. “Are you doing your painting thing tomorrow? It's your day off, right?"

  "Yes." Ayan zipped the pack closed with a firm yank. "There's a pinnacle about two kilometers out that has a good view of the southern ridge spires. I want to catch the morning light on them."

  "You're going outside the perimeter? Alone?"

  She suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. "I do it every month, Marlo. I'll be fine."

  "Yes, I know. Just... be careful out there, okay? You know how the tides are getting…tricky.”

  “I will. I know. I’ve downloaded the latest tables.”

  “Yeah…and mind you watch out for those alkali-spitters. And the Torchers," he added with a grin. "Don't let them scan you with their woo-woo sensors."

  "I'll be exceptionally vigilant," Ayan said. An idea popped into her head. “Say, do you want go over last week’s policy updates? I’m having trouble understanding Article 5, Paragraph 47. I was thinking if you and I share views, we might be able to get them implemented on time.”

  But Marlo was already on his feet, giving his arms a good stretch.

  "Gosh,” he said with a yawn, “Is that the time? I should go get some sleep. I’ve got an early start tomorrow.”

  “Oh?” Ayan asked. Her assistant was not known to be an early riser. His body clock was still firmly on the human’s 24 hours rather than the 32 hours of Kabus.

  “Yes,” he said. “I want to watch the Torchers leave."

  "I see," said Ayan with a broad smile. “Good night, then.”

  "Good night, Chief," Marlo said, heading for the door. "Bring us back a nice painting."

  After he had left, Ayan stood for a moment in silence, looking at her pack.

  “I always bring back paintings,” she muttered.

  From a drawer in her desk, she retrieved a small machine: her AutoCanvas bot. It had a compact frame designed to clamp onto a canvas, blank or already used, and faithfully reproduce any landscape you pointed it at. Its artistic abilities were beyond reproach, and for that reason she hated it immensely.

  In fact, it was so competent that you could leave it to paint while you went and did…more important things.

  She wrapped the bot in a thermal blanket, added it to her pack, and went to rummage around her picnic rations. An armful had already gone into her pack when her comm-screen bleeped.

  Ayan checked the caller id, closed her eyes and sighed. She accepted the call with a wary finger. The screen flickered, resolving into the rugged yet groomed face of Leonidas Hail, owner of Kabus and a member of the Mosogon Development Initiative. She noticed he had a new office backdrop that screamed understated excess, with genuine wood paneling that must have cost a fortune to ship.

  "Administrator Ayan," he boomed, his smile of splendid teeth almost outshining his enhanced eye gleam. "It is such a pleasure to see you today. I've just received the most fascinating news. Do you know who has arrived?”

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  His animated face stilled into a happy grimace. Oh no. She fought to keep her own expression neutral. Had her boss actually just asked an unnecessary question? Surely he knew of the two-minute lag between them?

  “Do you mean the Torchers, sir?” she said.

  She then had to remain frozen with her friendly, professional smile while her response was sent over to Halcyon Orbital.

  “Torchers!” Hail finally chirped. “Correct! On our humble Kabus! This is an absolutely tremendous marketing opportunity! The Owner's Club is buzzing about it. My good friend Newla Offerton has turned green with envy. She has built three luxury resorts on her dull yet stable moon, and not a single soul is interested!”

  There was a pause, and Ayan wondered if he was waiting for a response. Then his expression grew serious.

  “I want documentation, Ayan. Images, recordings, whatever you can get. This is precisely the kind of mystique we need to elevate Kabus' profile. If Torchers deem this world worthy of their Pilgrimage, well..." He kissed the back of his hand. "That's the sort of endorsement money can't buy. Have you made the right arrangements for them? We can’t afford to have anything go wrong.”

  "They depart at first light," Ayan replied. "And yes, I shall be monitoring their progress and will have support staff for them on standby."

  The lag stretched, and Ayan used the time to examine Hail’s trophy wall. Wait, was that really a head of a space snail, its mouth frozen mid-song? How had he got one of those?

  "Excellent, excellent," Hail said suddenly, his jovial expression returning. "Speaking of staff…that assistant of yours. Marlo, is it? Fire him. The man's a liability. Did you know he's been sending secret reports to some non-aligned organisation? His latest was sixteen-hundred pages on some dumb theory of his. The actual terrain of Kabus is an organism? Complete nonsense! Not to mention unprofessional. We need people who understand how to represent our interests. Find a replacement.”

  "I'll take care of it," Ayan said, her tone neutral. She had no intention of firing Marlo. “By the way, I would like to report that the transit facilities expansion is proceeding ahead of schedule. Your investment in the enhanced landing pads was particularly inspired. The surveying teams keep commenting on how much easier their work has become."

  Another lag. Ayan used it to massage her fingers. When they arrived, her words hit Hail with just the right amount of flattery.

  "Well, I've always said infrastructure is the backbone of any successful development," he said. "But do keep me updated on these Torchers. Perhaps we should consider a specialty tour package. 'Walk the Spiritual Path' or something equally evocative."

  The screen went dark, and Ayan exhaled a long breath.

  "Fire Marlo?” she muttered. “Does he think staff grow from the ground?"

  She crossed to her personal unit and retrieved a bottle filled with dark green liquid. She poured two fingers into Marlo’s empty glass and took a slow sip, letting the liquor’s warmth spread down her chest. It was her last bottle from home, saved for moments precisely like this.

  The drink steadied her nerves but did nothing to quiet her mind. Hail was right to be enthusiastic about the Torchers, and her own curiosity began stirring…as did her suspicion. She'd approved their expedition without really understanding what they wanted with Kabus. An oversight she needed to remedy, especially with Hail suddenly taking such interest. Setting her glass down, she shifted to her workstation.

  "Database, search: Torchers."

  The screen offered a trove of archives, articles, and reports. She scrolled through them carefully, occasionally pausing to read some of the highlighted nuggets of information.

  "Spiritual nomads... sacred cartography... world-learning through physical experience..." she murmured as she skimmed the text.

  One article caught her attention, an analysis of Torcher activity on seven different frontier worlds. Apparently, there was a consistent pattern: they arrived about half a generation after the initial colonization efforts, performed their mysterious Passage, and departed, leaving only cryptic statements about the world's "lesson" or "voice”.

  She raised her eyebrows at a Torcher quote: “We hear the whispers of creation through our feet.”

  "I wonder what creation says," she murmured as she closed the articles and accessed the satellite imaging system. The display shifted to a topographical rendering of Kabus's surface, focusing on the area surrounding the Hub, which had at least been surveyed, mostly by Ootu. Beyond that, much of the terrain remained obscured by canopy. Patches of the map were marked with warning indicators: "Incomplete data" and "Anomalous readings."

  Ayan's lips pressed into a tight line as she studied a particularly troubling section. The ridge systems created natural channels that funnelled the tidal pull from Mosogon. During certain alignments, the ground could shift with almost no warning.

  "Computer, overlay predicted tidal movements for the next ninety-six hours."

  The map rippled with blue-green waves, simulating the complex push and pull of Mosogon's influence. According to the projection, the initial stretch of the Torchers' journey would be relatively safe.

  After that, things got unpredictable.

  Ayan stared at the display for a long moment before murmuring, "Let's hope your heads look after you, Torchers, because your feet might be heading for trouble."

  She was about to shut down her workstation when it chimed with an incoming communication. Written, this time. She tapped to accept it, and the message appeared:

  Ayan read the message twice, her eyes lingering on the section about local recruits. Starcarver had mentioned nothing about taking Hub personnel. She quickly cross-referenced the duty roster. Everyone was accounted for, and no one had requested leave.

  Who, or what, were these "four humans born to this world"?

  She typed a response to Ootu.

  She timed it to reach him at dawn. Sleep was precious on Kabus.