Nyck and Hans were indeed putting Daved’s old flyr to good use. The antiquated junker approached the Burning Wilderness, its engine rumbling noisily. Nyck kept one nervous eye on the fuel gauge. The fact that it hadn't moved from 'E' since they’d fled Filstar should have deterred him, but still he persisted.

  “We made it,” said Hans. “That’s the Burning Wilderness just ahead, isn’t it? Big heaps of yellow sand and not a tree for miles?”

  “Yes, but the Wilderness is huge; as wide as The Zone. If we’re gonna find Quinn in there, we’ll need quite a bit of fuel to fly overhead and look for him.”

  “Quinn? Is that why you’re taking us to this cursed wilderness? How do you know he’s in there? He hasn’t been seen for weeks!”

  “When I last saw him, I think he was trying to tell me this is where he would be. Plus, haven’t you heard about all the Hakes migrating to the Wilderness? Quinn’s presence there would explain everything. I just hope we don’t have to find him on foot.”

  “I'm sure we’ll be fine,” muttered Hans, even as he considered that Daved had not keep food in the fridge, had not repaired the handle on the emergency brake, and had not filled the coin compartment with coins, but rather two rolls of duct tape and some tallgrass twine.

  “I'm not sure about that. There is an ancient law: 'You will run out of a substance when you are the greatest distance from all possible sources of that substance.' The nearest fueling stations are in Talmyn, Regnar, and Egg Harbor. We're approaching their centroid… so I'd say we're due to run out of fuel any minute. He peered out the window, inspecting the ground below. “We're coming over the desert.” The flyr's engine coughed and the craft began to lose speed. “Buckle up!” he called with a laugh as the flyr tilted forward. “Daved didn’t leave us a drop to spare!”

  “Is no buckle,” moaned V'han.

  “Use the twine, anything, just hold on!” Nyck furiously punched buttons, certain that somewhere Daved must have programmed an emergency parachute or a backup engine…

  “Is that the Danjro ahead?” asked Hans, looking out the front window as he gripped his seat. Ahead of them, like a thin pencil line etched upon golden paper, a narrow shadow snaked across the horizon. “Aim for that!”

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  “Don't know if we'll make it,” muttered Nyck, wishing he'd paid more attention to the pilots when he was in the Hake Army. What was it they did when a craft was going down? “Prepare for impact!”

  The plane dropped closer to the desert floor until the wheels were cutting a trench through the thick sand, spraying tiny golden rocks to the side as the craft touched down. It tilted wildly from side to side as Nyck fought to keep it level and moving forward, but the weight of the sand accumulating on the wheels was quickly too much. The flyr came to a violent stop, plunging into a sand dune, throwing its passengers from their seats. At last the motion ended. The craft was titled forward, its front buried in a heap of sand. The only sound was the scouring wind outside and Nyck’s shaking voice: “That wasn't so bad, was it?”

  “Uh, no, couldn't ask for a better landing.”

  “From here we walk. I'm going out your door; mine's buried.”

  Hans tried his door. “It's under four feet of sand. I can't move it.”

  “Surely there's a hatchet in here. Daved was pretty fond of them.”

  “Yeah, there's a couple in back.”

  “Perfect. Hand me one, will you?”

  “You're not going to damage his flyr, are you?”

  “Too late, don't you think?”

  “Yeah, I suppose so.”

  “We're going through the roof.”

  Hans and Nyck were soon hacking at the metal panels above them. V'han hummed an ancient tune in time to the blows.

  A few minutes later, the three climbed out a jagged hole in the top of the flyr and dropped onto the desert ground. A brisk wind peppered with salt whipped across the dunes. The sun was high overhead, its light reflecting off a million grains of sand like tiny diamonds. Nyck pointed ahead. “We saw the Danjro as we were coming in, so it shouldn't be too bad of a walk. We’ll keep the sun to our left so we don’t go in circles. There are Hake camps all along the river... I am certain Quinn will be at one of them.”

  Nyck pulled down his straw hat to secure it from the wind and started north, then added: “And watch out for snakes, pits, and plants.”

  “There's no plants around here.”

  “Oh, there are… they're just hard to see. But if you tread on one, believe me… you'll notice. And I don't feel like carrying you the rest of the way.”

  They had only trudged for a few minutes when Hans pointed ahead in excitement. “Look! A sucaza!” The great camel-like beast was ambling past, oblivious to their presence. “Now this is a real desert!”

  “What a lucky break. I'll just lasso it with this twine here, and we can ride it out in a jiffy.” Nyck swung the rope over his head, then sent it sailing in the direction of the sucaza. The rope hit the side of the animal with a 'thunk' and slid off. Bending down, the animal paused to sniff it, then trotted away, quickly disappearing over a sand dune.

  “Nice throw,” muttered Hans.

  “It's not as easy as it looks.”

  “Well, hang on to the rope. Maybe we'll catch up”

  But they never did.