Only a few citizens of Lakal knew there were two levels beneath the Council of Equals building. Only Sagra, his immediate family, and three others knew there was a third. 

     A stone chamber. Each stone different. Each stone cut perfectly to fit into the stones around it. Sagra had secretly commissioned a loyal construction crew —   which he later banned to the outskirts of the desert city of  Adi Uluu —  to add the chamber during the initial construction. Sagra and a few others had convinced the populace the capital of a new world needed a building. A symbol of new visions and democratic ideals. Over time, the chamber and its secret escape passage to the Nuaka River were forgotten.  

     

     Alexander Rechat sat confidently in the middle of the room facing Sagra. One of the tallest and broadest men in Lakal and by reputation one of the meanest. He had a gravely voice and a temperament to match. There were only two people on the planet he feared. One had disappeared years ago. Now, he sat in front of the other. “I was simply trying to get the wajike . . . that bitches attention, Sagra.”

     “By banging on the hull of the shuttle with a shenzi . . . fucking Tineke club?”

     “The door to the shuttle was closed. She was spending a long time in there.” Rechat pulled the flap of his blue headgear to one side. “Besides the Erebus had left orbit and I wanted to get inside before the feris bugs did.” Rechat gathered his courage. “SHENZI, isn’t that what you told me to do?”

     Instinctively Sagra's right hand dropped to the hilt of an obsidian blade protruding from his boot. His voice a whisper, “Do not shout obscenities at me Rechat. They do not impress. . .I asked a question.”  

     Rechat leaned back. “I’m confused. Weren’t those your orders? Commandeer the shuttle. Learn how to fly it. Bring back the woman to add to our gene pool?”

      Sagra glared. “But that is NOT what happened, Rechat. . . Is it? Your antics upset the woman, and she decided to go — ” In his anger, Sagra almost withdrew the blade for emphasis. “Who-knows-where.”  

     “I watched her wave to Tyree and Hanar in the shuttle window. Then she dropped out of sight. None of us knew what the wajike was up to.”

     “Ah, the ‘WE’ again. How many are there now in your. . . Blue Cap . . . Gang?”

     “It’s not a gang. It's a militia. Your militia. You wanted extra. . . What did you call it? Security. If you want it disbanded, I will do so today.” 

     “Good idea. Do that! Today.”  Sagra’s voice rose. “Back to Krista and the shuttle. She’s flown somewhere. And I doubt it’s too far away. You and your gang startled her. She went somewhere to think things through.  Tyree and Hanar are on their way to the coast, which I  think is most likely. I believe Krista is trying to figure out just what the hell you and your . . . Blue Gang were up to —”

     A click and chirp from the side of Sagra's desk halted the dialogue. Sagra smiled warmly as he opened the drawer. Six claws appeared at the top. Then Sagra's owl-eyed sera appeared. It quickly made its way to the top of the desk,

where it sat on its two tails and glared at Rechat. 

     “Seems my little Ta Ta wants to join our conversation.”

     Rechat subtly moved his fingers off the desk and his chair back.  “Those damn things are dangerous.”

     “Like your gang.” Sagra taunted.    

     “It’s not my gang, Sagra. They are all volunteers. Assembled to protect you. I was simply your surrogate. I said I'll disband them, and I will.  If you don't want them; neither do I.” 

     Sagra eyed Rechat carefully and thought. Give any group of men and women a cause, an identity, a symbol, a sense of importance, and you create a cult.  A dedicated cult. Rechat is no fool. He has an agenda and . . . I’m on it. But now I need him.’ 

     Sarga rose and circled the desk. He smiled easily and placed a hand on Rechat's shoulder.  “After you’ve disbanded the Blues, take a small contingent up the mountain road past Tolograd.  Stop at the station house. Take a few pump trolleys. You'll move faster. Maybe Krista’s originally from one of the mountain worlds. Maybe after the . . .em. . . incident. After the Erebus departed, she became homesick. Maybe she wanted to walk barefoot in the snow.  Who understands what women want?”

     “No one,” Rechat laughed. 

     “Bring a few gazbags. Keep me updated. If you find her, use discretion. Try using tact.”

     “And if that doesn’t work?”

     “Tie her up and bring her to this room. It’s time she and I came to an understanding.”  

      On Sagra's desk, Ta Ta chirped.