Samar's mind was pretty preoccupied for a Saturday afternoon: he had to find a job, feed the horses and find a way back to Earth. It had been three weeks since he was left stranded on a dry patch of land in the planet of Zanar with nothing but a rucksack and nightclothes on his back. He had found shelter at a downtrodden inn in exchange for taking care of the inn owner's horses and had mistakenly considered himself lucky. The accommodation turned out to be a makeshift bed right next to the stable with plenty of time to think but hardly any peace for thought, what with all the stable odor.
He walked out the backdoor to get away from the stink and, most importantly, gather some more information. With the internet, he could have found all he was searching for within minutes instead of having a daily routine to ponder over textbooks in the University of Lantor's library. But this place seemed to be as much of a technological shambles as it was an ideological one.
It was barely evening, and the marketplace was buzzing with vendors, calling out to lavishly clad Gerians who were busy stuffing themselves with all kinds of street delicacies. Half the people seemed to be heading to their version of casinos. Others were drinking their days away with little remorse sitting beneath tents lined up along every nook and corner of the brick-paved street. Samar shuddered, thinking how human adults would react seeing such a species, thriving by doing whatever they wanted, whenever they wished to.
Samar had learned within his first day of arrival that the Gerians were driven by desire and everything else was secondary to that. They didn't judge each other for being selfish, or as they would say, blessed by the pine spirits, and considered very few things to be sinful. Unfortunately, one of those things was being a human.
Samar was well aware as he walked over the quaky cobblestones that he was not welcome here. To say Zanar didn't want any humans visiting would be an understatement. The Zenians loathed humans with characteristic passion and practically had a shoot at sight order for them. From what he could gather from the books, humans had visited Zanar sometime in the past millennia, causing a catastrophe that wiped out a significant part of their civilization, leaving them to build their planet back from ruins. To have his identity revealed would mean a hefty reward for some Gerian and an Infernus sentence for him.
Fortunately, Samar was tiny in build for a seventeen-year-old, a fact he was often bullied for in his school, making him almost the same size as most Gerians. He thought his sharp features and sandalwood color would make him stand out among the flatteringly tan people around him, but they barely batted an eye. For all their rules concerning humans, they had hardly any idea what humans looked like.
Crossing the marketplace and a few town council buildings, Samar reached the university grounds. The University of Lantor was a majestic building of red sandstone overlooking the town of Geria on one side and marking the starting point of the Capitol road that led all the way to the capital of Zanar - the city of Tol, on the other. Samar entered the university's library house, a glass-domed building that smelled of books and mowed grass, with bookshelves starting from the ground and spiraling around and about the entire dome. He found a nook for himself at the history and geography section and perched upon the seating platform to read. This felt familiar, probably the only ordinary thing on this whole planet. He could sit around here studying for hours, and everything would seem like home. But it still wouldn't exactly be home, Samar thought with a sigh before erasing that thought from his head. This was no time to be melancholy and lose heart. He could find a way out as long as his brain was working, the same brain that got him into this mess in the first place.
It was about six months ago that Samar started feeling detached from his life. He was an Indian child prodigy who grew up in the middle of both media attention for his invention of biodegradable plastic and kids who bullied him for being different. Everything kids aspire to be was a cakewalk for him, yet he felt hollow each time a pet project ended. There should be something more, something grand, something that he was destined to be or do. Gobbling up a copy of 'The natural guide to the nature of Zanar', he chuckled, thinking how ironic it was that fate would land him in this place where no one seemed to have any lack of drive.
It hadn't even been six months since he started thinking renewed fame could make him feel whole again. People had gotten used to him being an intelligent kid with some patents. Maybe something groundbreaking would give meaning to his life. The strange thing was Samar was never a kid who enjoyed the spotlight, but something seemed to be driving him this time. Whispers or nudges from something or someone invisible to look in the right direction. And he did, only to find his mother's half-done research on teleportation and space travel lying in the garage, covered in cobwebs. Apparently, she never came back to collect her things after the separation, and his father dreaded talking about the topic. It was with great enthusiasm that he started his grand project of making teleportation a reality. More than a self-fulfilling calling, finding solace in his mother's work seemed to bring him closer to her - a strange way of getting to know her better. All this was months before his experiment went awry.
Whenever he got wrong results, Samar liked to trace back his steps. Three weeks ago, he was back home in the garage, almost given up with the partly done machine he had built - all his computations were ending in an infinite loop - when the wires fused and the lights started to glitch. He clearly remembered the gibberish readings he saw on the calibration meters before the lights went off, and he was thrown into a void only to wake up on the outskirts of Geria with a thud and a terrible backache. He found no debris around him or any sign of civilization, although he couldn't be sure in the pitch-black night. He wanted to tell himself he had teleported himself to the Thar or Sahara, but there was no mistaking the two moons in the sky. The machine was supposed to teleport, not throw him light-years away into a barren planet. Maybe the instructions weren't specific enough. He hated himself for the timing of his sense of humor, but he couldn't help finding it amusing that searching for meaning in his earthly life would end up with being kicked off into space. Even light-headed, he knew he had to find shelter or a predator to hitchhike with. Forcing himself to be pragmatic and not panic, he dragged himself to the town and passed out on The Freeway Inn's floor.
Observing Gerians, blending into their lifestyle, and getting lost in the crowd came easily to him. Since his day of arrival, he had spent his mornings looking for a job and his evenings stuck in the same nook of the library dome trying to make a mental map of the planet, searching for clues on how he could get back to Earth. The geography seemed pretty straightforward. There wasn't much landmass owing to the twin moons' gigantic tidal pull, and whatever land was present was consolidated into one huge country, Zanar, named after the planet itself. So whatever solution he could find for his predicament, he needn't look very far.
Samar was halfway through reading the general political structure of the country when he felt a watchful eye on his back. "I wonder how many trinks a human child would fetch me," the deep voice whispered, sending a chill down Samar's spine. Mustering his courage, Samar turned to look at the pale young Gern standing across the shelf with a bemused expression. He chuckled at Samar's expression. "You should see your face. Don't worry; fortunately for you, I don't care about petty things like money, at least as long as there is something else in it for me. You're a bit far away from home, don't you think?"
"Yes...maybe...who are you? Why do you think I am human?" Samar barely rumbled. He was terrible at confrontation.
"Ah, me. I'm just a handsome young fellow who deals in information. From domestic affairs to secrets of the primar council, all news passes through me, and it's my job to know what humans look like. But I think you barely qualify to be one. I'm guessing you are called a 'child' back on Earth."
"So...you work for the government?" Samar didn't find the Gern hostile, but he couldn't be too careful.
The Gern started to laugh and suddenly hushed as he remembered he's in the library. "No, no, not the council. I'm what you would call a freelancer. I keep the tales I like and give away the rest in exchange for better tales. So, tell me yours. I won't give you up for Infernus until I hear your motive, I assure you. Also, I don't think you have much of a choice. So, tell me, human child, what are you doing here? Are there more of your kind incoming? Would there be another Basaya?" he blurted out questions, his eyes hungry for any sensational information. Basaya was the terrible catastrophe humans caused, and every book seemed to be blurry on the details of what it actually entailed.
Samar felt cornered. He was never athletic so making a run for it seemed like a terrible idea. He couldn't act innocent after spending weeks reading up the politics and history of the planet, possibly right under the Gern's watch. Something about this one made him seem trustworthy, unlike the innkeeper who was scrutinizing him every second. Maybe he could help him. It was a terrible idea to trust strangers, but he had to say something before the silence got awkward.
"Helloo, I haven't got all day," Zen commented, although, from his demeanor, it seemed he had more than enough time to spare.
Samar told his story, just enough to make the Gern know he's harmless, a kid who blotched an experiment and ended up in Zanar by no fault of his own. "I couldn't possibly go about asking about this country without raising suspicions. So I've been reading up. I just want to go back home. I don't bring any catastrophe or any more humans with me, although I do wish this crowded place weren't so lonely.". The gravity of the situation seemed to settle in as soon as he said it out loud. He was alone on a lonely planet; his papa would be worried sick by now. Samar couldn't spare such thoughts now, especially when a Gern had identified him and was practically interrogating him.
The gloom seemed to have touched the Gern. "You're a child, trying to go back home. You desire happiness, nothing wrong with that. I can maybe help your research; you could ask your questions without making anyone else suspicious," he chuckled. "And it's not every day one gets to learn about the Earth from an actual live human. It could come in handy someday," he paused, almost deliberately. "I'm Zen. Nice to meet you..."
"Samar Narula"
"Samar, yes, what makes you think you can go back, exactly?" Zen asked with an all-knowing smile as he settled onto a chair next to Samar.
"Well, nothing is impossible until proven otherwise. If a force could bring me to this planet, there should be something equally powerful to take me back. To be honest, we at Earth assume every other extraterrestrial species would be more advanced than us, so I hoped for a spaceship when I started my research. But I can't find anything except broken references to the Zendik's Wheel."
Zen's demeanor seemed to suddenly snap from amused and curious to concerned. "You might already know we Zenians aren't bothered by much. There are only a handful of things we consider sacred, and those powers are not to be discussed around like any common pillet. Especially Holiness Zendik. For centuries Zendik has guarded the Zenians against external threats. Every Zendik holds unique powers, and the Wheel and Infernus are as sacred as the Zendik themself."
Zendik was the honorary title of the Zenian monarch, the most powerful being on this planet, who headed the primar council - a group of wealthy and influential natives who kept the country’s wheels running. Listening to Zen, Samar thought Gerns’ devotion to Zendik was ironic for a country whose transfer of power happened every time by the incumbent Zendik’s assassination. The assassination was considered a great expression of passion that regicide didn’t even seem to be a part of their vocabulary. Half the political books Samar read seemed to praise it and hold each person who took it upon them to break the Zendik’s protections for the desire of power in extreme reverence. So much so that the killer ended up being the next Zendik. This place was indeed messed up. But nowhere in the texts had he seen any relation between the Zendik’s legendary space portal called the Wheel and the infamous Infernus prison everyone seemed to curse each other with.
“Wheel and Infernus? What does your ancient spaceship have to do with your prison?”
“If only Infernus was a prison. The Wheel and Infernus are said to have been built by the same master craftsmen decades before the Basaya. To tell you the truth, I think the Wheel was what brought in the humans. It can take you to any planet in the universe, but ever since Basaya, it has been decommissioned. The Wheel is technically out of bounds for every citizen, and the only people who can make it work are the Zendik and the upper echelon of the council. And Infernus is well...hell.”
“What do you mean, hell? I thought it was a figure of speech for some high-security prison.”
“No one who has been there has lived to tell the tale, kid. According to our mythology, it is a land where everything decays and all ‘prisoners’ go through the worst kind of punishment - their desires are stifled, becoming nothing more than an echo in their head. Their heads are polluted with vile things until they become barely alive and do the Infernus masters’ bidding like zombies or until they turn on each other. Of course, I don’t know how much truth there is in these tales. For all my skills, I’ve not been able to learn much about the sacred devices, let alone if they survived the Basaya”. There was a sense of disappointment in Zen’s voice that Samar could easily relate with.
Samar’s head was busy figuring out this puzzle. Of late, he was becoming more and more sure his only way out, given the technological state Zanar currently was in, was the Wheel. But from what Zen said, attempting to use the sacred Wheel to get back to Earth would mean giving himself up to the big guns here, which would reveal he is human and end up with him rotting in Infernus. There was no easy way out. He was woken out of his reverie as Zen said, “Enough depressing talk for the evening don’t you think? I’ve got some business in town. See you around, kid”.
Samar nodded. Zen had turned around to walk when Samar remembered he was his only lead so far to getting anything done here. “Zen, where can I find you if I need to?”
Zen replied without turning back. “Go to the Edge pub and walk right up the stairs across the doorway. You’ll find someone filing his nails at the reception.”.
“Tell him you have an offer for me.” he paused for a second. “And come only when you actually do.” Zen winked, glancing back.
The following two weeks were a breeze for Samar, from outside, but he carried a tornado in his head. His new job at the local pet store was enough for sustenance, and he could finally afford a proper room at the inn after settling his debts there, which got him a wide-toothed grin from his innkeeper. Operating the desk at the store meant he had plenty of time to spend reading and plotting. After his conversation with Zen, it wasn't hard to conclude that his only escape route was through the Wheel. A plan was hatching in his mind over the weeks, and he needed a small but effective crew to pull off the job, which meant banging Zen’s door at the Edge and asking for his help, as Zen predicted, offering something in return to persuade him.
“The royal artifacts!” Samar had blurted as Zen opened his door. The puzzled expression turned into one of amusement as Samar offered Zen access to the royal artifacts and whatever else was kept in secret custody if he helped Samar infiltrate the palace. Zen’s palace blueprints confirmed this idea made sense. Zenians were not privy to the Wheel’s location, but they heard stories of how prisoners intended for Infernus were led through the palace vault. The history linking the two devices together and the robust palace security in and near the vault meant that would be the right point to seize. Amidst them, they deliberated the security and risks, but neither could resist the urge to reach out for what they desired. The stakes were real and extremely powerful, even more so as Samar understood the magical system that supported the planet.
He had always known that the Zendik possessed extreme power. Several records attributed it to their ability to manipulate stardust, the remnants of a meteorite hit that had formed the nation of Zanar. What he missed out in his studies was that few of the general populace, with promising talent, were also trained in soft magic - manipulating matter with thoughts - and groomed by the primar council to join their ranks. So the Zendik and the council were influential not only from their position but also from their abilities. Amidst them, Zen and Samar had polished Samar’s heist plan, but this wouldn’t be a fair game unless they had someone on their side to help them cross whatever spells laid in wait.
Zen was the one to suggest Liz. A strong motive was needed to recruit anyone, more so to recruit someone with powers comparable to the council’s. Liz was a member of the council until the recent past when she was thrown out, according to her, for no fault of her own. Zen seemed to think she could be trusted. Her powers, however minimal compared to the Zendik’s, were extremely necessary to overcome the fabled enchantments of the grand palace, and Samar agreed.
Samar closed the shop for the day and walked across the alley to take a shortcut to the Edge. It was less suspicious to meet up in a pub where everyone looked suspicious anyhow. Also, it seemed like Zen and Pala, the nail filing Gern, had some arrangement, almost as if he reported to Zen and acted as security. The thought that Zen could be some powerful Gerian just playing a role unsettled Samar, but he couldn’t back off now when he was so close to convincing someone to help him get home.
Pala let Samar in without any questions. As he entered the rugged green floor of Zen’s apartment for the umpteenth time this week, the room didn’t feel as damp as before. There was warmth emanating from the center of the room where Zen sat on his couch comfortably chatting with a woman, presumably Liz, who was playing with the mug in her hand. Liz was radiating power and clarity. Looking at her was a glimpse of sunshine on a gloomy day. For a moment, Samar felt that all could be well on this alien planet, that life could still be good. She had a wise face with light wrinkles, almost commonplace, but her aura filled the room with liveliness incomparable to the mess around her.
“Ah, this must be your accomplice,” she said as she lightly patted something next to her. Samar had almost missed her pet snake among all the papers ruffled around on the rug. Adopting snakes as pets was so common in Geria that his shop’s sales were mostly snakes and little rabbit-like creatures called Pluffs. Liz’s snake was light brown. Any light color meant the snake wasn’t venomous and was friendly to other species. It hissed slightly as Samar sat down on a stool across from Liz, closer to Zen.
They had decided to not reveal Samar’s identity to Liz for obvious reasons and hoped she would believe their cooked-up story. To her, Samar would be a young man from Atlan whose family disappeared overnight under the government’s own watchful eye, sending him on a year-long hunt for his family, ending at his joining Zen’s plot to infiltrate the palace vault, where he thought he could find relevant records.
“Yes...ma’am,” Samar managed almost questioningly. Zen glanced at him as if in warning, and Samar was sure he was messing this up. He suddenly gained his composure and adorned his role of the determined adult.
With a deep breath, Samar delivered his pre-planned dialogue. “I believe Zen has shared the basic details with you. If you were to join us, you could of course, have your share of the plunder. But beyond that, I have reason to believe that the recent supply of stardust from Atlan is stored in the palace vault temporarily until it is ready for movement to the warehouse. Let’s say, if we were to make our move this week, I don’t have to tell you what stardust could help a woman like you achieve.”. Liz’ expression shifted slightly, but she maintained her composure.
There, her bait was laid. Stardust was maintained and stored strictly under the palace guards’ supervision for Zendik’s own use. All kinds of stardust were available on the black market. But most of it amounted to nothing more than ash mixed with black salt, which was surprising to Samar because Zenians didn’t mind plundering for personal gain, and he was sure that more than one guard would be willing to turn a blind eye. The way this country was run, every expensive commodity must be rolling in the sand, satiating the people’s indulgence. But it wasn’t. The whole machinery was a mystery, but that made authentic stardust an invaluable commodity. The promise of actual stardust, from the Zendik’s own vault, would be irresistible to anyone, let alone someone with the basic powers to use it.
"We were just discussing. I'm intrigued, but the matter of stardust is news to me. I would like nothing more than the humiliation the primar council would endure when they realize I stole from right beneath their nose. They deserve nothing less for what they did to me. The offer is lucrative. Although I do have several questions," she said with an all-knowing smile which partially unnerved Samar.
"I would expect nothing less. We do have a lot more to discuss" Samar did his best impression of a smirk as he handed Zen the blueprint of the palace with careful descriptions of each and every step they were to make. It would need updating based on what Liz could or could not achieve, but this was a massive step forward.
Zen glanced at the blueprint and laid it out on the table. It was time for Samar to do what he did best. He pitched a step-by-step plan for the heist of the royal palace of an alien nation to two seemingly dangerous and equally foreign people, who were definitely more experienced at these games than him. Despite that, he was sure he put up a pretty good show when he saw Zen nodding, almost impressed, as Samar wrapped up explaining their escape route. Liz was thinking deep but not storming out of the room calling the plan preposterous. That was all he could ask for right now.
One of the moons had risen by now. Several rounds of 'what ifs' and critical discussions later, all three of them seemed content with the plan, at least theoretically. As they were about to leave Samar saw a glint of defiance in both his companions, convinced of the plan, almost saying, 'Yes, this is absolute madness but imagine what we could achieve for ourselves'. For the first time since waking up in Zanar, Samar felt truly hopeful that he could return home.
It was time. Liz must be all settled in her room at the grand palace that Zen had arranged for her, or rather, for Betor town's diplomat Mazeki. She would play the rich and lavish envoy from Betor, and her room would form a crucial part of their escape route. The night was seeping in, and it was time for Zen and Samar to get out of the service area. They had bribed their way through the catering vehicle, but that could get them only as far as the service entrance. The change of clothes was handy. They both made a passable impression of the brown and green robe-clad servants. The service room was crowded, and notes kept pouring in through a channel in the wall with requests for all kinds of exotic dishes. Mazeki had made sure to order extravagantly so that two servants had to bring her food up.
With dishes wobbling in their inexperienced hands, they made their way up the servants' staircase.
Liz's suite was resplendent. Adorned in red and golden all over, the room shone as much as she. Finally, something seemed to match her personality. She did belong here. Liz glanced at her pocket watch. "Time for you two to move. Carry only what's necessary" Zen was supposed to carry only his sling bow, an instrument very similar to a revolver but filled with sedative tipped arrows instead of bullets. The power of the weapon depended on the poison or sedative it was dipped in. They all had one each. Samar also carried some essential equipment in his rucksack. He was in charge of handling distractions and pyrotechnics.
Liz's room was situated on the first floor of the palace, carefully chosen by Zen, the west block of which was occupied by members of the primar council. She had done something to her hair and face, distasteful makeup perhaps, to make her unrecognizable. The chamber they targeted was inaccessible from anywhere in the palace, except the council members' rooms or Zendik's suite. Liz knew the place inside out.
If one were to take any staircase and search for the vault, they would get lost in a maze of corridors that lead nowhere. The tunnels leading from the council members' rooms were the most accessible but equally risky. Each of the entrances was connected to the other, and any member opening the chamber would immediately alert the others. The only person with personal access to the chamber was the Zendik, and hence that was the room they needed to get to first.
Samar and Zen, still in their servant garb, left Liz's room after leaving all extra equipment hidden beneath the cutlery they brought in. The servants' staircase led all the way up to the seventh floor, where Zendik's suite was located. They had timed this perfectly. The highest security to any room would be to have the Zendik in it. The weekly council meeting would have started on the fourth floor, leaving Zendik's suite relatively vulnerable. Samar was sure the Wheel would be in the chamber across from the vaults as every blueprint seemed to mark that as a non-accessible area. The stardust in the vault was also supposedly transported tomorrow, making this their last and only chance to put the plan into action.
They made their way up the stairs without much incident. Security was lax on the lower floors. Approaching the sixth floor, they heard someone shouting, and Samar's heart skipped a beat. Two females in neatly clad green uniforms were arguing. They stopped, seeing Samar and Zen. The shorter among the two, clearly the one in charge, glared furiously at them. "What are omika servants doing this high up at the palace?" Our costume was good enough for the lower floors, but only the most trusted employees were allowed up here. Samar was dumbstruck, although they had anticipated this. Zen took control of the situation.
"We are here at the council's request. Some debash job at the meeting room on the seventh floor." which basically translated to plumbing or such tasks which would be beneath the upper-class servants. The guards seemed to find that answer almost sufficient.
"Show your identification," the taller one said.
Zen produced a little silver metallic stone from his pocket and held it in front of them. They let them pass. "Where did you get that?" Samar questioned when they were out of earshot.
"You know, I have my ways," he replied. Was he a thief too? Samar had never seen that stone before and never heard Zen mention it. But as long as it got them in, it hardly mattered.
Soon they were in the corridor across Zendik's suite. From their vantage, they could see two soldiers stationed outside the door. But that wouldn't be it. When the Zendik was not present, there must be extra protection to prevent anyone from passing through. As planned, Samar retrieved a mechanical tarantula from his rucksack. Zen was impressed by Samar producing what was just a scary-looking remote-controlled car he had patched up from whatever scraps he could find, decorated with fur and scales from the pet shop.
The tarantula made its way up to Zendik's room, and as expected, the alarms blared. The guards were baffled. One of them spotted the tarantula and jumped. The other gave a cheery laugh, spoke through the wall's communication window, and informed his probably panicked counterparts that it was just an insect.
Someone must be on their way to disable the alarm, and they had to act quickly. Before either of the guards got a chance to examine the tarantula and notice it had little wheels instead of legs, Zen took position along the wall and fired two perfectly aimed shots at their necks. "Look and learn," Zen said with his characteristic haughtiness. Samar rolled his eyes. He hated this part where they had to hurt people, even if temporarily.
They crossed the doorway while the alarm was still blaring. Samar quickly produced a tiny white object, basically an advanced version of a cracker, and inserted it into the keyhole. It took hardly a second to destroy the lock, leaving the door intact. But that was a pointless save as the two missing guards would be a severe giveaway if anyone were patrolling the corridors. They didn't know for how long the alarm would be active, and Liz was nowhere to be seen. Soon someone came into view across the corridor, and both Zen and Samar were taken aback until they realized it was just Liz in changed clothes. She was wearing a green dress like that of the senior guards. "She found time to change her clothes after setting up our escape? How long have we been out here" Zen murmured while gesturing to Liz to rush. They pulled the unconscious guards into the room while Liz ran in. They closed the door almost in sync with the alarm's silence.
"Wow, that was close," Samar commented.
Liz rolled her eyes. "Close? I had it perfectly timed. If I had come any earlier, I would have been spotted by the east wing unit heading for dinner, and let's just say, I have crossed paths with several of them before." Liz replied with a sly smile, although neither of them seemed to believe her.
"We're getting late. Isn't the tunnel supposed to start from the fireplace?" Samar said as he walked towards the fireplace. Zen was glancing anxiously across the room, which was understandable. This was a terrible place to be caught intruding. The tiny space behind the fireplace, as Liz had shared, marked the beginning of a tunnel. They began the descent through the damp and dark tunnel with flares in hand. This must be a more leisurely walk than climbing from the council members' rooms. Nevertheless, it was exhausting.
After a few meters, the tunnel began to widen and was well lit. They came to a halt at the other end of the tunnel, oddly facing a swimming pool. Both Zen and Samar stared at Liz in apprehension. This wasn't the security or place they expected. To their dismay, Liz looked equally perplexed.
"The Zendik must have changed the security. I have heard it is done when a council member is ousted. To maintain security. I didn't think they would redecorate this drastically. But the basic structure is the same. There -" she said, pointing to a corridor on their left wall. "That must be the way to the vault. But if the decor has changed, it wouldn't be a stretch to expect the spells to have changed too."
They walked towards the corridor and stopped right outside. Liz closed her eyes and focussed, trying to detect the magic present. "This pathway is charmed to be extremely poisonous. I could sense its power from afar. We cannot go through without an antidote." she said.
Samar glanced curiously at the inner chamber. There were multiple doors here. "Isn't that the vault we are targeting?" He asked, pointing to the door right ahead of them. Zen nodded. "Then the other doors must be accessible to members of the council, without the Zendik to help block this poison?" Liz agreed. Those were restricted access rooms but didn't require Zendik's presence to open, at least when she was part of the council.
"Which means the antidote must be here for anyone to consume or use, hidden in plain sight," Samar noted as he reeled and placed his gaze at the swimming pool. "An odd addition for a secure chamber, don't you think?"
Zen looked uncharacteristically nervous but agreed it was worth trying. They all took a sip of the water from the pool. "It seems to have changed the power balance," Liz said. "I'm pretty sure Samar's idea worked. But a word of caution, we are in deep trouble if we are caught here. Right now, it's probably not Infernus serious but definitely serious. If we go forward, we are signing up for the biggest loot possible on Zanar or for walking through Infernus. No other way out."
Both of them nodded. Samar intuitively thought he was anyway intended for Infernus, no matter where he was caught. They all took wary steps to the corridor and almost at once entered the path. No dizziness. The antidote had pretty much worked. Samar twisted the doorknob, almost sure it would be locked. To his surprise, it opened free, and right ahead of them was an endless abyss. They were standing at the edge of a gas moat that protected the royal vault from all sides. Across the moat, the vault trailed endlessly. This was an expected contingency, the moat has been in place ever since the vault was designed, but no one except the Zendik could help cross it, at least until now.
Liz moved forward a bit and started concentrating. Samar wasn’t sure what her magic could do to the moat, but Liz had agreed she could solve this problem. Slowly, beneath their feet, the gas from the moat rose at her will and turned to a light yellow crystal, almost like vapor turning to ice at window sills. Suddenly Samar realized she was performing deposition, the direct conversion of gas to solid. Her magic was pure science, but thinking of the energy needed for this conversion widened his eyes. A glance at Liz showed that it was taxing, her face was contorted in concentration, and her body was waning. But she kept on creating the crystal yellow solid, and soon it coalesced into the shape of a bridge. Zen and Samar stood in dumbstruck awe.
Samar was the first one to gain his nerves and notice Liz. He held her right in time. One more moment, and she would have fallen into the moat from weakness. Slowly, she stood back up. “Let’s move; we don’t have much time,” she said. Samar nodded; the council meeting could go on for hours, but the Zendik would return to the suite within two hours from every meeting, and today there would be two knocked-off soldiers waiting. They had one hour left. Zen and Liz had to collect their loot and get out of the palace, and Samar had to figure out how to operate the Wheel within that time.
Samar took the first step, gave a hand to Liz, and nodded at Zen. They started to cross the bridge carefully. The moat wasn’t too wide. In fact, a few more steps and they would be on the other end - the vault. It was extraordinary. The vault and the hidden chamber across it, where he assumed the Wheel to be, were leftovers from Zanar’s long-lost heritage and reflected how rich a country it was before Basaya. He was engrossed in these thoughts when the floor beneath him lightly cracked. Samar came to a standstill.
“This can’t be. The spells were perfect,” Liz whispered, almost scared her words would let the crackling bridge loose. “Unless the element was changed….” Samar understood the implication. The moat was supposedly untouched whatever security changes happened in this place. But if the Zendik wished, the properties of the gas could have been modified. But this would be a deliberate step to catch an anticipated enemy unaware. It dawned on him that they might have been compromised. He became conscious. He could clearly feel the eyes on his back now, just like he could two weeks ago, at the library. Samar turned his head lightly, not disturbing the swaying bridge.
Zen stood smiling at the door they just passed through. He wasn't crossing with them. The same all-knowing smile that made Samar trust him. "What is all this about?" Liz asked. "How did you know?" Samar held Liz's eye, almost in apology for bringing her into this mess, just to die at the gas moat and never to be heard from again.
Zen was calm as ever. "How many trinks do you think a human - caught stealing state secrets from the royal vault - and an accomplice - an ex-council member thrown out for attempted assassination of the Zendik -would fetch me? Neh, not mere trinks. I'll tell you what I'm going to get - a seat at the council for the new keeper of information."
Samar felt a bolt of betrayal go through him. He was right to mistrust a stranger, but he was an even bigger fool for not reading between the lines. Zen was partially honest from day one about his intentions. Samar was too quick to give his life into an alien's hands. And now they were trapped on this bridge, a wrong move, and he and Liz would collapse along with it. Liz...he hadn't known what her crime was or why she was thrown out from the council. But a lot of what Zen said made sense. Although Zenians didn't consider regicide a crime, an attempted assassination wouldn't go unpunished as long as the Zendik was alive. Together Samar and Liz made a great catch, and it wasn't a stretch to think Zen had rigged the whole system to bring them to this very spot - caught in the act. No wonder the heist went so smoothly until now.
Liz looked equally shocked at the revelation that Samar was human.
The whole trap was falling into place. They weren't running against time. They were merely following the little breadcrumbs Zen had left for them. And now, the final piece fell into place as the council members, seven or eight of them, stormed into the hallway. One of them, a middle-aged female from its looks, smiled in appreciation at Zen.
More than Zen's confession, this gesture shook Samar. "What hope was left for him now that the whole council…" his thought trailed off as a charismatic figure, bald and clad in golden robes and a wooden staff, almost the size of an adult human, walked in - The Zendik.
Samar didn't get to plead his case. Zen did it for him, ensuring his own heroic deeds were emphasized repeatedly and any mention of Samar trying to go back home or the Wheel, easily swept under the rug. Everyone kept Samar at one arm's distance. Human abilities were legendary, and they didn't want him pouncing on them at any moment. The verdict was unanimous. A human infiltrating the palace and attempting to steal royal secrets had only one worthy punishment - Infernus.
Liz was a special case. Her powers both intimidated and astonished the council. It was news to Samar that the magic Liz performed at the moat was extraordinary for anyone other than the Zendik, even with training and deliberation. The council wished to experiment with Liz’s abilities but wouldn’t dare give her a second chance at freedom. She took her imprisonment sentence with relief. Before being trailed off the courtroom, she glanced apologetically at Samar. They were supposed to stick through this together. Samar didn’t mind. If it came to choosing between Infernus and any other choice, even he would choose the latter gladly.
It was dawn by the time the court was dismissed. Samar was to be sentenced early in the morning itself. Handcuffed and sleep-deprived, Samar was led down the chamber he so haughtily occupied less than five hours ago. He was surprised by the crowd that went along. All council members, those who debated and sentenced him, were walking on either side. Behind them all, the Zendik glided calmly like a shepherd. The effect was unnerving. Samar couldn’t believe the brain he so prided in had led him to this punishment. He could have adjusted here, lived as a refugee, hidden among Zenians, rather than trying to do the impossible. His belongings were all confiscated. He had nothing to hold on to. The stories Zen told about Infernus sent a chill down his spine.
Soon they arrived at the other end of the vault, crossing bridges made by the Zendik with a flick of a hand. He was right the whole time. This was where the Wheel and Infernus were located. If only he could make this far in time. Well, he was never really headed here. Zen’s plans were always to betray him. Or did he come to this decision later? Samar would never know. Zen was also among the group, the new member of the council. His anointment would happen after Samar was punished.
They stopped facing a wall. All except Zen and the Zendik, the council members placed their palms on the wall one by one. Samar had the distinct feeling he was witnessing something divine. The wall shifted slightly and, with a rumble, parted on to either side, opening a path of darkness. Once again, the council made way for the Zendik. The staff tapped twice on the floor as the golden figure glided towards Samar and held his arm, surprisingly tenderly. “Oh great, is this one of those great rituals where the king would do the beheading himself?” Samar thought. The Zendik took him a little ahead and stopped. The staff lit up the dark arena. Ahead of them was a huge black object, scaling up to the roof, vaguely resembling a giant beetle. On one side of the beetle was a gray column. The Zendik looked up, rumbled spell after spell, and locked the staff onto a groove in the column. The column parted, and Samar was pulled into the void inside. Samar’s survival instinct kicked in, and he grabbed the Zendik by the cloak, pulling both of them into the column.
“Let me out, or your leader goes with me to Infernus. Let me use the Wheel to go back home. I won’t hurt anyone,” Samar shouted at the council as the columns slowly closed in around them. He knew, if the Zendik desired, he would be ashes by now. It is better than rotting in Infernus. This was his final shot. His only advantage was taking them by surprise.
The council looked perplexed. Apparently, no one expected this to happen. “Oh boy!” Samar jumped hearing that voice. The Zendik, who was silent all during the trial, had just made an exasperated comment at his stunt. Before he could respond, from the corner of his eye, he saw Zen pull out something from his pocket. “Let me make this easy for everyone,” he said as his sling bow rang and an arrow tore through the air towards them. Zen was still armed. Samar’s instincts kicked in, and he jumped to the side, pulling the Zendik along. The arrow barely grazed the Zendik’s arm. The columns closed completely, and they lay in shock on one side of the entryway as the giant ship started moving. Had he just kidnapped the most powerful being on a planet while his ex-accomplice attempted murder in the hope to be the next Zendik? Had the Zendik seen into their future and made that comment - “Oh Boy!”? He had distinctly heard those words.
The staff filled the room with blue light, and the beetle lit up from inside - a most advanced technical marvel. Well, if they were going to hell, they would go in style. Samar couldn’t meet the Zendik’s eye after making this mess. He still wasn’t sure why the Zendik hadn’t used any magical powers to shatter him.
“Samar..” the voice was tender. Samar was sure he was confounded. He turned to his side and slowly lifted his eyes. What was happening? Why did this mysterious alien call him so sweetly by his name...their eyes met.
“Mother?!”
Samar couldn’t believe his eyes, and yet the resemblance was uncanny once he ignored the bald head and alien clothes. “How? Are you my mother?” he asked, bewildered.
She held him in a tight embrace, and he was sure. But his mind raced in a million directions on what this meant.
“I’m sure you have a lot of questions. But I’m just so glad to be back with you.”
Samar’s questions melted away in a rush of gratitude for this final gift before he was sent to doom.
“So am I. But this is terrible timing. We are headed for Infernus. And I dragged you down with me?” Samar said in horror.
Laila smiled. She looked as beautiful as she did in her pictures. “No, dear, we are headed for Earth.”
“But the Wheel? Oh, can you redirect this ship to Earth?”
"The Wheel and Infernus. Hmm... it's a popular rumor, I know. Maybe even your friend Zen believed it." She said mockingly. "But there is, or was, only one spaceship on Zanar, and it can be directed to only one planet. The very planet Zenians dread - Earth, their Infernus," she said, standing up and moving towards the controls of the ship.
Samar couldn't believe himself. She continued, "I was pulled into this world by an anomaly while working on my project. But I wasn't sure whether it was random or it was caused by me. I had to kill the last Zendik, a man who gave me asylum believing I was from some other planet, in an act of mercy, and my talent for science was misinterpreted as magical abilities by the natives. Ah, I have lived as their ruler for decades, fearing an assassination attempt even in my sleep. Just so glad I managed to get away finally." She paused.
"Did you know what happened to the first Zendik?"
Samar nodded a 'no.'
"Well, she lasted only two minutes after the law was passed that the next Zendik would be the one who assassinated the current one. This led to a blood bath as one council member after another killed each person who became Zendik. It was horrible. Some relatively sensible leaders managed to introduce a decree that the council members cannot carry weapons and that the royal guards were excluded from the absurd law. But I have lived every day in fear. The only thing I desired was to get away from that place and come back home to you. This spaceship needed the presence of every council member to be activated and its use was meant only for the most serious crimes. You can imagine a country that punishes their leader's assassin by mere banishment wouldn't use the Infernus unless some extreme circumstances arose, like this," she said, pointing at Samar.
"Decades? You've been separated from Papa for only fifteen years." Samar said suspiciously.
She looked shocked for a moment. "I thought you might have identified by now. Time works differently in Zanar. It also means you will be back home within a week since you left." She paused. "Separated...your father must have made that up to explain my disappearance to you. How's he?" she asked with a painful smile.
Samar couldn't contain his happiness. He was going back home and into his time, taking his long-lost mother back! "He is his usual humming-with-the-bees self," Samar said, laughing.
Laila laughed along heartily, almost hysterical. "Oh, he still does that. I can't believe I will have my normal life back."
There was a moment of bliss settling in between them.
"Mother, how long have you known I was in Zanar? You couldn't have possibly known it will all end up like this." Samar said, leaning on the ship's wall.
"Samar, I was the one who nudged you to poke around my experiments. I am sure it was some temporal anomaly that pulled me here, and if I could replicate the settings...I was hopeful the time period would be fifteen years based on the readings I noted." Samar remembered the gibberish readings he saw too. His mother had a long time to plan this.
"Well, it was under my control until you reached Geria at least, but that spy, Zen, leaked information about you to the council before I could make my move. I had to play along and shift the plan accordingly. Just so you know, I was about to step into the ship with you before it left when you pulled that stunt of kidnapping me" she laughed.
Samar smiled sheepishly and remembered the "Oh Boy!". It was indeed a silly and absurd thing to do, but it made a lot of sense at that point.
Talking over their experiences and laughing at their mistakes, they fell peacefully asleep.
The beetle landed gracefully atop a skyscraper. Delhi was still alive, although night had settled in. Laila and Samar stepped out of the gray columns onto the terrace.
"You know, I do have some feedback about your statesmanship," Samar said in a mockingly serious tone.
"Of course you do. Let's discuss it over dinner. Does papa still make those tasty dosas?" Laila winked.
Above them, the lone full moon shone brightly.
THE END