Outcasts of Gideon

There Goes Our Ride : Part 1

Dewey was glad when they finally reached Ascanius. It didn't relieve the stress he was feeling, but being free of the transit pod helped him breathe better. He'd spent his life carefully controlling situations to manage these feelings. The Aion was his security blanket. It's familiar schedule his regulated heartbeat. Here he had none of that. Here he felt the need to flee, an overwhelming sense that the walls were closing in.

Getting to Ascanius meant being able to dispose of Eghard. Dewey didn't want to hurt the guy. He hadn't done anything more than eavesdrop, but he was a loose end. They couldn't just set him free. They were in enough danger without that. Quinton's contacts were helpful with Eghard. Now they were relying on those same contacts to get them off this moon.

He took in the long hallway where they stood. Dione seemed like an endless corridor, one leading to the next. This one looked much like the rest. It ended at a large open area bustling with people. Nearest that end stood Kishan and Mister Lackey. They were waiting to get word on their ride. The vessel was running late. Dewey couldn't help thinking that they were somehow the cause of the delay.

The space at the end of the hall was busy. Not like the first place they came into, where everything was happening in shadows. The halls of Ascanius were teeming with busy people going to and from something. What that could be was a mystery to Dewey. Knowing little about the moon, he knew even less about its people.

He looked around at the others. Quinton sat on a bench a few meters away. Dawn was beside the old man. Bobby leaned against the opposite wall. When Dewey looked his way, Bobby smiled. It was a weak smile. Dewey could see the effort it took.

Kishan leaned against the wall near the large open area with Mister Lackey pressed up next to him. That would have made Dewey uncomfortable. He needed more space than that. Kishan didn't seem to mind.

Dewey wondered what brought Kishan to them. Their little world of shuttle schedules and missing luggage was insignificant. This man knew danger. Dewey could tell in how he handled it. He was calm. Very little seemed to faze him. It made Dewey feel jealous.

He'd seen a few people like that over the years. What he remembered most about them was how they looked down on him. He always felt like a nuisance around them. Kishan didn't make him feel that way.

"These are people we can trust. Very discreet," said Quinton. Dewey turned his way. As far as Dewey could tell, no one had asked. "I'm sure they will arrive soon." The old man smiled at him.

The smile reminded him of the transit pod. There, Dewey had felt a sudden urge to act. At first it seemed like his usual fears. He'd become flush, his heart racing. Then he felt closed in. Fight or flight, or something like that. Quinton's words made the feeling return. Dewey pushed off the wall, stepped around Grant, and stood before Kishan.

Kishan's eyes where closed. When he finally opened them, his head popped back with surprise. The flush of Dewey's face must have been bright. He could feel it. "Are you okay?" Kishan asked.

Dewey stared into Kishan's eyes. Then he turned and looked into the open space. "I don't know."

"Just to be clear, you never touched it."

He knew exactly what "it" was. "That alien thing? Hell no. And I'm not gonna." He knew why Kishan asked. You couldn't pay him enough to touch that thing. Only staying away hadn't kept the artifact from affecting him. How or why were still a mystery to him. It was yet another problem in a day of problems.

As he stared across the large space, a shadow emerged from one of the offices across the way. He caught sight of the man darting forward toward them. The man's face turned from left to right and back again. Navigating the movement around him, the man closed on their location, an urgency in his steps.

The man reached them quickly. "I've been sent by Athibodi, the booking agent. You're the ones waiting on the Moon Over Marin, right? I'm afraid there were unseen complications. Please accept our apologies." He never paused. They all watched as he turned and made his way toward a distant corner of the open space. When he'd finally disappeared into a corridor, Dewey turned to the others. Quinton's head drooped. Everyone else moved forward.

A voice came across the loudspeaker. It explained the delay of an awaited transport without actually explaining anything.

Dewey felt someone grab him by the wrist. "Follow me." Kishan let go of Dewey's arm and walked into the open area.

Grant pushed himself ahead, bumping Dewey aside. "Where do you think you're going with my power source?"

Kishan stopped and turned to confront Grant. The others gathered behind the big man, a gaggle of people halting in the open space. Kishan glared at Grant, then searched their immediate vicinity. His voice was a forced whisper. "We cannot afford to draw attention to ourselves."

"I can't afford to have you walk away with that bright light." Grant said, speaking through clenched teeth. He grabbed Kishan by the arm.

Kishan pulled his arm free. "We can discuss what to do next when we are back on the Wake. None of us will get off this rock if someone discovers what we are carrying." He held the satchel out to Grant. Grant took it roughly. "Shall we go?" Kishan turned.

The others followed Kishan and Grant. Dewey stood firm. A sense of purpose was growing in him, accompanied by a feeling of dread. He usually just went along. Now he was doubting that approach.

Succumbing to the feeling for action, he turned from them and began in the opposite direction. He had no idea where he was going, only that following the others was somehow not going to get him where he needed to be.