"I must say, you are being very unreasonable, ma'am," Mr. Bonnel complained.

"I think I am being very reasonable, sir," the girl with the long hair insisted with a smile. "This particular patch belongs to me now. I will gladly show you the contract signed by the President if you say so. My team is busy at work here, and I am afraid we cannot afford any interruptions. I'm sorry, I can't be of any help to you. Good day to you, sir."

Beralaxon sighed in exasperation. He had not traveled across the galaxy to listen to endless debate. Couldn't they have sorted this out before hauling me here? he thought. And how does drug-making take precedence over ancient, powerful artifacts anyway?

They stood in the middle of a gravel-lined path that had led them from a hunting lodge deep into the Malorawa Forest. Tree stumps were scattered all around the track, gradually giving way to still-standing trees, the most abundant of which were the pines.

Several pharmaceutical company workers were busy extracting the sap from a particular type of tree that dotted the pines.

"I am not disputing the fact that this patch belongs to you. I am only asking that you let us through, and we will be on our way," Mr. Bonnel stated. "There is no need to waste our time here."

"Well, then why don't you go on and call your folks while you're at it and have a nice old picnic here in our hair all day?" the guy with silver hair said gruffly. He stood next to the girl with his arms crossed.

"Pardon?" Mr. Bonnel asked in confusion after a pause.

"What guarantee do we have that you are here to do what you claim?" the man asked, pushing his hair back.

Beralaxon sighed and shifted his attention to his holophone. He had already opened a Karomozian news site, although he had it on mute. Some Felitte actress seemed to be holding a press conference at Hotel Grande.

From the tickers, Beralaxon could judge that she was prattling on about her recent turmoils and how everyone should gather to locate and help some 'missing fighters.' Beralaxon rolled his eyes. Nothing worse than an actress trying to sound wise. He put his holophone back into the pocket of his turquoise gilet and looked up once again.

Look at them groveling before me now, Florinok thought. When the poor were dying, they couldn't care less. Now that the elite were afflicted, suddenly, the whole Karomozian administrative machinery revved up to make sure Florinok had undisputed access to the groves of nimtrees and that the production of her cure commenced at a high priority.

The only thing that bothered her was that the government had appointed those same nasty men — whom Zablaron identified as Crimson Crows — for security purposes. She had her own guards watching over her team, but she did not feel one bit comfortable with these crows around. There was no telling what they could do. Karomoz needs the drug, she assured herself. They can't afford to cause any problems.

"Why are you doing this? Just to spite us? You know we mean no harm... we can't possibly do any harm." That came from the woman named Cearlin from Mr. Bonnel's team. A young blonde dressed in khakis with a pink, puffy face and hair in a braid, she had joined Beralaxon and Mr. Bonnel on Karomoz.

"That's a bit rich coming from you," Rosa countered, stepping up from behind Florinok. She had called Rosa to Karomoz as soon as she had been granted access to the forest. It had been worth the while — her mere presence made Florinok feel all the more at ease. "When Ms. Lephyte wanted in — rightfully, might I add — you weren't that willing to comply, were you?"

"It was not up to us," the blonde archaeologist replied. "We are just archaeologists. It was the security firm appointed by the government that accosted you — not our fault."

"Well, guess what? That same 'security firm' now works for us since the government has deemed our operations to be more important than yours," Zablaron interjected. "Not our fault." He shrugged.

The archaeologist started to respond, but Florinok cut in, "We'll be getting back to our work now. Let's not waste any more of each other's time. Good day. Alvoak, Bolho, please see our guests out." With that, she turned to leave.

I'll be darned if I came here for nothing, Beralaxon thought. He had been feeling relieved at the sight of the forest swarming with guards and security officers, not to mention the dozens of other personnel. Surely, he had thought, his three old friends would not be able to get at him here in the midst of them all. Moreover, Mr. Bonnel had used a secret tunnel from the spaceport to the hunting lodge in the forest that Beralaxon had had no idea existed. Even if those three somehow managed to enter the forest, it would be from the entrance leading from the city, far, far away.

But if this went down the drain, he would be out back in the open — vulnerable on a foreign planet. A sudden urge gripped him. He had to do something — and quick.

"Ms. Lephyte... if I may say so, you have no idea what they have found in there," Beralaxon called out to the long-haired woman.

"Mr. Ducelest! What are you doing? We cannot divulge anything!" Mr. Bonnel said sternly.

Florinok turned around to face the archaeologist who had just challenged her. Now this one has woken up? she thought. He had been quiet throughout the argument, pretending to be busy with his holophone. "Mr. Ducelest, is it? If I may say so, I have a very good idea of what they have found in there. What do you call them... Nova Blocks, isn't it?"

Mr. Bonnel and Cearlin gasped almost audibly — Florinok Lephyte clearly seemed to be enjoying the looks on their faces. Beralaxon cleared his throat and addressed Mr. Bonnel, "Looks like it has already been... divulged." He turned back to Florinok. "Look, I'm not Karomozian — I'm from Ornebule. I didn't know these guys until a day ago, and I don't really know what went down here with you. Clearly, they have been lousy in their behavior. But you don't have to be like them. You can be the bigger person here. Think of the ramifications of studying such powerful artifacts. Our discoveries could reshape the galaxy — and all of it rests in your hands. This jungle is large enough for your raw material collection and our exploration to go on side by side in harmony. Let's not ruin either one of them because of bitter experiences, don't you agree?"

All of it rests in your hands. Florinok liked the sound of that. She was very aware of the archaeologist's attempt at flattery, but she couldn't deny a certain logic in his words.

She figured that even if she agreed to let them in, it would be because she chose to, not because anyone forced her. But she still did not want them to enter and risk jeopardizing her operation in any way. These people could not be trusted, no matter what they said. "You were quick to point out you're not Karomozian, Mr. Ducelest. Why is that so?" she asked innocently.

Beralaxon felt his face flushing. "I meant I am not speaking from any bias. Neither do I have any agenda. I know these people almost just as much as you do."

What are these Nova Blocks? Zablaron thought, his curiosity tingling. He had not admitted as much to Florinok, but part of him wanted to go visit the dig site with these people and see what the fuss was all about. It would be a learning experience if nothing else. And Zablaron liked to know what was going down and be one step ahead of everything. But he knew that could possibly make Florinok mad.

Zablaron tapped on Florinok's shoulder and said in a hushed tone, "Can I have a word with you, Florinok?"

Florinok looked at him in surprise. "Oh." She shrugged, then said, "Yeah, sure." She turned to face Mr. Bonnel. "Excuse us," she said politely and moved aside with Zablaron.

Zablaron opened his mouth to speak before Rosa joined them. He eyed her and lingered for a moment. This one sure is presumptuous, he thought.

"Go on," Florinok egged on.

Oh, whatever. Zablaron spoke up, "I think we should let them in."

"What?!" Florinok exclaimed in shock. Realizing she had been too loud, she checked her tone and whispered, "I can't believe you're saying this too!"

"We should let them in... under our supervision," Zablaron stressed. "Your exclusive lease will come to an end eventually, and then they will come here again and do whatever they want to do. But right now, this is our chance to see what this is all about. Otherwise, we will never know."

"And why do we have to know? Why shouldn't we just stay away from whatever it is?" Florinok demanded.

Zablaron opened his mouth to speak, but Rosa spoke up first, "I agree with him, Florinok."

Both Zablaron and Florinok turned toward Rosa in surprise.

"You too?" Florinok asked in disbelief.

Before Rosa could respond, the sound of gravel crunching under tires caught their attention. They cast their gazes over the heads of the archaeologists, beyond their horses behind them.

Beralaxon turned around to look back. The horses they had arrived on whinnied and swished their tails as a black SUV stopped behind them, dust settling in its wake.

"Ah! He's here!" Mr. Bonnel exclaimed happily.

"Who's here?" Beralaxon asked.

"Why, the gentleman who oversees this security company," Mr. Bonnel replied.

Some men in black armor got out of the SUV before the rear door opened. A muscular man in an ornate black-and-gray armor stepped out. He swaggered past the car and the horses, his men trailing behind him. As he drew closer, Beralaxon noticed that his green eyes were marred by a gash diagonally across the left one. It was very, very subtle, but Beralaxon couldn't help but notice that he limped a little as well.

Vulture, Zablaron thought, clenching his fists. That complicates things.

"You still think we should let them in?" Florinok asked, still looking in the distance at Vulture.

Beralaxon watched as the man in armor scanned him from head to toe. Slowly, he turned his head toward Mr. Bonnel. "This is the guy you brought? Instead of the Brotherhood of Cosmos?" he asked gruffly.

"He is a part of the Brotherhood of Cosmos. And his credentials are far more impressive than his peers," Mr. Bonnel replied eagerly.

"Hmm," the man snorted.

Beralaxon did not like this exchange one bit. I am not a part of that darned brotherhood, he thought.

The emerald-eyed man shifted his gaze toward Florinok Lephyte and the man with silver hair standing a few feet across from him.

"What happened?" Rosa asked. "Who is that man?"

"The one who was responsible for all that mess," Florinok replied. To Zablaron, she said, "You didn't answer me."

"As much as I hate saying it, I still think we should let that scum in," Zablaron said as his gaze locked with Vulture's. Both their eyes shot daggers. "If we let them in now, we can keep an eye on what they are doing. If we don't, there's no knowing what they will do from the shadows."

"Are you saying you're afraid of him?" Florinok asked.

"No, I am not saying that!" Zablaron shot back.

"Zablaron Inrazax!" they heard a voice call out. "Are you too chicken to face me now?"

That's it, Zablaron thought, seething. He marched over to where the archaeologists stood and stopped face-to-face in front of Vulture. "Yeah, I mean that hideous scar on your mug does scare me a bit," Zablaron gibed.

"What's all this trouble you are causing my archaeologists? You want things to go down the hard way?" Vulture sneered.

Zablaron snorted. "Yeah, like last time. You are one ungrateful crow, Vulture. I should have killed you when I had the chance."

"Right back at ya, Inrazax," Vulture shot back.

Florinok walked up beside Zablaron. We need to put up a united front, she resolved. She took a deep breath and said, "You and your team may enter... but only under our supervision."

Zablaron tried his best to hide his surprise as he briefly glanced at Florinok.

"I admire your audacity, Florinok Lephyte," Vulture said, clenching his teeth. "I have reports that you were in Brivil when that outbreak at the pool party happened. I can't prove it yet, but I know you were responsible for it. And when I do, boy, will you be in some hot waters."

What have I gotten myself into? Beralaxon thought despondently. Everything was fine and calm and peaceful until yesterday. Now, everything was crazy, and nothing made sense.

"Do let me know when you do. Getting back to the matter at hand" — Florinok frowned and crossed her arms — "is that a yes or a no?"

"The likes of you will never set foot in that place with us," Vulture asserted.

"Then the likes of you may not, either," Florinok said flatly.

Now, we're talking, Zablaron thought, pleased. Vulture glared down at both of them with his emerald eyes as an uncomfortable silence fell. Nobody moved or spoke.

Florinok held her breath. Could he be so brash as to command the Crimson Crows to turn on us? she worried.

Vulture began biting on his lip. Then, to Zablaron's annoyance, a familiar smirk began to form on his face. "Fine. I accept the terms... for now," he yielded with a tone that promised consequences.

Florinok breathed again. "Good," she said, still frowning. "Follow us." She then turned to Rosa and said, "Rosa, I need you to stay here and keep an eye on things... especially on the Crimson Crows."

"Don't you worry, Flo," her friend replied. "You keep an eye on that man," she said, motioning toward Vulture.

They both nodded, and Florinok headed toward her van, waiting up the path.

Beralaxon watched the man named Vulture enter his SUV with his henchmen. We will be the only ones on horses? he thought as he shuffled toward the neighing horses with Mr. Bonnel and Cearlin. From the spaceport, he had bought himself a canary-yellow–and–gray, plaid hoodie, a pair of azure jeans with cargo pockets, and a gilet in his favorite turquoise. Before long, everything, along with my watch, will be covered in muck, Beralaxon thought in dismay.

Presently, Florinok turned around to make sure everyone was following. The sight of the archaeologists walking toward the horses was funny and sad at the same time. Look at those poor, little things, she thought as she rolled her eyes. "Mr. Bonnel!" she called out. "You three are welcome to ride in our van. My staff will take care of your horses."

"Oh! I am delighted, Ms. Lephyte," Mr. Bonnel called back and started for the van, followed by the other two archaeologists.

"Kez, make sure the horses get fed," she said to her guard.

Finally, someone here cares about expensive clothes, Beralaxon mused as he walked toward the van.

When everyone settled inside, the van sped off with the SUV close behind.

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