The Quarry

[Rage Menelas]

[font=Lucida Sans Unicode]Quang Liu was approaching the installation from the direction of polar north. He had landed clandestinely in an ice valley not too distant from the archaeological dig. Quang was determined to fulfill the mandate that he had been given by his order: discover what had happened to Master Erzo'acteru. The Exeonasii order-master of Urtyre had given him the assignment with a word of caution. Dalca'odge was on the brink of political upheaval, a regime-change was in the offing. It appeared that the Baeliwiks were coming back into power.

Now he crested a small, snow-covered hillock. Lightning flashed as he stared down at the installation. He had not expected this storm. It must be a unique feature of Hei'a 12, for he had never seen a lightning storm like this before. It tended to crack horizontally, searing thin fingers of electricity across the horizon in shocking iridescence. If not for his all-absorbing focus on the mission, he would think it quite astonishing, even beautiful. As it was he barely noticed.

Down in the shallow depression wherein lay the archaeological facility, he could make out several notable features. To the right of the main building, a nondescript rectangular structure, was a landing pad with a single ship docked there. It was not the master's Saar'floe, but a different crescent, a different model. That didn't mean that he was not being held in the installation, just that they were being careful not to broadcast the fact. Saar'floe could easily be hidden in any of the multitude of canyons of this over-sized moon.

In the foreground, just at the base of the hill he was peering over, was an excavation. Near the building itself was some sort of refuse pile, the installation's offal, no doubt. They probably covered it over with fresh layers of snow and ice ever so often, to keep the smell down. Dalcachenes were very sensitive to rank odors, liked to keep everything tidied up in that regard. Quang smiled, he doubted they could have survived the slums of Seoul, where he had grown up.

He determined to move forward to the edge of the landfill. Carefully he picked his way down toward the area in question, occasional strikes of lightning illuminating his way. Now he was in position to examine the entrance. What type of alarm security did they have in place? He had no way of knowing just yet.

He suddenly heard a strange noise coming from the direction of the landfill. A trap door at the base of the outer wall of the building opened and ejected something, which flew into the pile of refuse. He watched, astonished, as a naked man stood up and began to look around confused.