I’m starting to feel a bit anxious.

  So far I’ve tried not to think about it, but tomorrow I’m facing a mission I still know nothing about. The sense of uncertainty is unnerving: I’ve no way to prepare as I’d like, not even mentally. And now that I feel the end of the day drawing so near, I can no longer manage to keep myself distracted.

  Perhaps I should ask about it? But I know full well they won’t tell me anything before the journey begins.

  Still, it’s hard for me to just sit around waiting and relax. In this state of mind I don’t know how to spend the time, and at any rate I haven’t entirely resigned myself to my own helplessness. If I try… if I talk to her in the right way… I might even get a certain person to give me an idea of what lies ahead.

  So, I decide to head to the laboratory where Archeos is usually found. As expected, the old man is there, giving directions for the following day to the other philosophers.

  When he notices me, the man signals for me to wait.

  I wonder if it would help to tell him about the strange things happening to my body.

  That thought crosses my mind as I lean against the wall while waiting. Yes… besides the supposed mayea, there’s also that matter to find a place for among my countless worries. I certainly haven’t forgotten it… not at all. And how could I?

  Enhanced memory, boosted calculation ability, mysterious healings… maybe it’s just a suggestion born of what I did during the mission, but I’d like to discuss it all the same.

  I fix my gaze on Archeos as he talks animatedly with a couple of young philosophers. Among the people on board with whom I’ve a sufficient level of familiarity, the old man seems to be one of those with the mindset best suited to deal with such matters.

  But I’d rather not bring up these topics—for now, I decide. Perhaps yesterday he was annoyed because I didn’t continue the exercise on using mayea.

  Not for any other reason, but since that episode I haven’t had the chance to talk with him and find out where things stand between us.

  Once he has finished with his colleagues, Archeos comes over to me.

  “My boy,” he says. “Don’t tell me you want to work some more!”

  “No, I’ve had enough for today,” I reply, relieved not to see any sign of resentment in the man. “I was just stopping by.”

  Well, let’s put it that way. The fact that my visit isn’t casual doesn’t change that.

  “Really?” the philosopher replies. “In fact, I know you’ve been amusing yourself. Quite right, too.”

  “Amusing myself, eh?” I repeat. “Wandering around the ship doesn’t really fit my idea of amusement.”

  “If you’re in good company, why not?”

  “Do you see me with anyone?”

  “You were with Nipria earlier, weren’t you?”

  “Yes, but… wait, how do you know that?”

  I’m sure I didn’t catch sight of the old man in any of the places where I’ve been.

  “Jim told me,” Archeos explains with a smile. “He came running up, all excited, saying he’d seen you two on the upper deck, and that you looked rather close… he described it as a veeery romantic scene.”

  “But… what?” I exclaim.

  A burning, intense heat surges from my neck up to my cheeks, telling me I’m turning crimson.

  A dramatic reaction, brought on by the sudden embarrassment the man’s words have caused me. One I hadn’t expected, nor was I prepared to deal with.

  “That… Jim… damn him…” I mutter, trying to regain my self-control.

  “What an exaggeration!” the old man says at my reaction.

  “If he goes around putting strange ideas in people’s heads…”

  “What strange ideas? You’re young—who do you think would scold you for spending a bit of time with a pretty young lady?”

  “Stop it.”

  Archeos laughs.

  What’s so funny about this?

  He’s not helping me regain my balance. Oh, I’m not that na?ve: I realise that spending time with Nipria could easily be taken the wrong way.

  To be honest, I enjoyed her company and the way she showed me trust. But I certainly didn’t entertain the kind of thoughts Jim and this witty philosopher seem to have. Just because she talked to me a little! I don’t forget that I’m a strange sort of person who’s hardly likely to attract that kind of attention.

  “Well,” the man says, “At least it takes your mind off your worries a little.”

  “I told you…” I protest.

  “Yes, I got it,” the rebel nods. “As long as you’re well. I feel a bit sorry about yesterday… you must understand I don’t like this business of sending you out on expeditions.”

  I can confirm it: Archeos isn’t angry.

  “I tried to prepare you,” the old man adds, “but… perhaps it’s not good to bombard you with emotions just to bring out your abilities.”

  “I think so too,” I agree.

  So that explains why he seemed stressed. In truth, he was worried. I almost feel guilty for having left him hanging yesterday… although it was mainly Dawn who led me away.

  “I think you’ll find your own way of using mayea,” the philosopher concludes.

  “I’m not sure I can really do something special,” I state for the umpteenth time. “It would be nice…”

  I like to dream, and the thought of having some kind of “superpower” is an enticing prospect—I can’t deny it.

  “… and I admit I felt as though I’d done something out of the ordinary, on the day of the mission. But… my head tells me it was all just a big delusion.”

  “I wasn’t there, so I can only speak based on the testimonies,” Archeos asserts. “I imagine you’ll discover for yourself whether you truly used mayea… or you’ll simply decide to learn it, who knows.”

  “I doubt it’s possible,” I declare with a shrug. “I come from another world.”

  Although, in truth, I don’t know the rules underlying mayea, so I’ve no real basis for saying that. It’s only something I assume.

  Better to start from solid ground and then correct myself, rather than indulge in strange illusions.

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  “You know I don’t believe that story, so I really do think you could,” the old man counters.

  “Nipria believes me.”

  “Ah, but that’s lo—”

  “Stop!” I cut him off, raising a hand.

  Archeos bursts out laughing, then claps me on the shoulder.

  “Shall we go to the mess?” he suggests.

  ???

  Jim is back at work in the engine room. At the moment, he doesn’t mind shovelling coal: until just a short while ago, he’d been carrying out some maintenance on the outside of the ship, where it’s bitterly cold, so now he’s more than happy to stay close to the boilers. Reluctantly, he has to thank Nipria for having fixed them.

  “Oh!” exclaims the boy, spotting a familiar figure approaching. “Good evening.”

  He’s addressing Dawn: just arrived from the far end of the corridor, the rebel is striding briskly towards the exit. Her gaze roams over the work being done nearby, without paying much attention to individuals; still, when Jim speaks to her, she smiles and stops beside him.

  “Hi,” she greets him in return.

  “What are you doing here? Didn’t you work this morning?”

  “I was checking the storeroom, just to get an idea of tomorrow’s work,” she answers.

  “How responsible we are,” the lad chuckles.

  “I don’t do things at random like you.”

  “Oh, but I don’t work at random—I follow inspiration,” Jim replies.

  “Yes, yes…”

  “Hey! At least I keep hold of my things,” the boy grins, eyes gleaming with mischief. “You ought to watch over your beloved more carefully, you know?”

  “Eh?”

  “Well, look at that—speak of the devil…”

  From the other end of the corridor Nipria is approaching. The girl is cheerfully humming to herself as she comes closer. At the sight, Jim simply can’t hold back.

  “Full of spirit, aren’t we?” he comments, once the artificer is within earshot.

  She shrugs.

  “Of course you are,” the boy goes on, unable to stop himself smiling. “Did you enjoy yourself with Ethan?”

  “Eh?” says Nipria. “Ethan?”

  Expressionless, Dawn watches the scene in silence.

  “Oh, but yes!” Jim insists. “On the deck, in the snow—a scene so moving…”

  “Ah, shut up, you idiot!” exclaims the artificer, stammering a little.

  “Oh heavens,” the rebel shows astonishment, placing a hand theatrically to his face. “When he’s involved, you can’t even manage to act tough like you always do.”

  “I said, stop it.”

  “See?” the boy says to Dawn, winking at her. “She’s gone! And from the look of them earlier, Ethan will be too, if you don’t watch out.”

  “Watch out?” Dawn repeats, looking puzzled. “Good for him, isn’t it? If he manages to settle in here…”

  “You’re joking?”

  “No—why should I be?”

  “Aaah…” Jim says in disappointment, turning his eyes back to Nipria. “I was hoping for a bit of rivalry. Oh well, never mind…”

  A grin spreads across his face.

  “At least I’ll have fun teasing Ethan,” he continues. “Otherwise, with all these distractions I risk him starting to ignore me.”

  “Cut it out, you idiot!” Nipria snaps, raising an artificer’s spanner threateningly.

  “Easy, easy! Does it bother you that much when I mock your beloved?”

  “You asked for it…”

  While the two squabble, Dawn walks away without another word. Jim watches her. Then he sees Nipria do the same, a pensive look on her face.

  At that, the boy smiles.

  “Maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t wrong,” he mutters. “Oh, blast!”

  He’s just realised that, when he put a hand to his face earlier, he left a great smear of soot across it.

  ???

  In the Epos’s mess, between one mouthful and the next, Ethan and Archeos are discussing the various forms of government. A decidedly heavy subject—so much so that neither of them even remembers how they ended up talking about it, especially since the English boy has little interest in such matters. But that’s the direction the conversation has taken, and with no alternative, they go along with it for the time being.

  When Dawn enters the room, the two don’t notice. So, as she approaches, she hears the boy saying:

  “We don’t get on too badly with the monarchy.”

  “Say what you like, but I’m entirely opposed to any form of power other than democracy,” the old man replies.

  “But ours is a parliamentary monarchy,” Ethan counters. “The monarch’s power is limited, and the people elect representatives.”

  “It’s still unacceptable,” Archeos shakes his head, eyes closed in disapproval. “In the end, there’s still a form of power not derived from the will of the people.”

  “Well, it’s not as though it wields all that much power, though.”

  “Matters of principle.”

  “Hmph! That Greek influence of yours shows.”

  Dawn comes up behind the two of them. She leans down so that her face is level with Ethan’s, and comments:

  “We’re having some weighty discussions here.”

  The boy startles at finding her beside him. He shifts slightly away, as though the girl’s closeness makes him uncomfortable.

  From his expression, alarm and dismay seem to shine through.

  … did I frighten him?

  ???

  I wasn’t expecting it: Dawn came up behind me with the silence of a cat. And, as usual for her, heedless of everything, she suddenly closed the distance. I almost felt her warmth as she brought her face close to mine.

  So much so that I drew back more abruptly than I would have liked. Not out of annoyance, though… then why? Perhaps because I don’t really know how to behave in a situation like this.

  I hope I didn’t offend her.

  “It just came up in conversation,” Archeos explains, far calmer than I am at Dawn’s appearance. “Ethan was wondering about the differences between Maltia’s current government and that of his homeland.”

  “Why?” she asks, seemingly unconcerned by my reaction.

  “I wasn’t sure how different they were,” I reply, trying with a normal tone to make her understand that I wasn’t pushing her away a moment ago. “After all, I come from a monarchy.”

  “Monarchy brings tyranny,” the girl observes.

  “Not in our case.”

  “Well…” Dawn says. “It’s not for me to stick my nose into your affairs. Still… you’re not part of some sort of nobility in your country, are you?”

  “Not at all!” I deny.

  “You never know—since you’re defending monarchy. It could be that you’ve privileges depending on it.”

  I shake my head. I’m not defending it at all; I’m only trying to be balanced in my evaluations, without taking anyone’s side on principle. Ah, I hadn’t wanted to end up talking about these things: I don’t care about politics at all! My plan was simple—to worm out of Archeos what he knows about the expedition.

  But the philosopher is skilled at digressing and throwing my schemes into disarray, steering the conversation away from where I want it. Whether he did it on purpose or not, I don’t know, but he certainly nullified all my efforts.

  “Mmh,” the rebel murmurs. “Anyway, I’m not interested in these heavy discussions—especially the day before a mission. Hm…”

  I notice she’s staring at me.

  “What is it?” I ask her.

  Dawn says nothing, her gaze fixed on my shoulder. Instead, after a moment she suddenly lowers her head…

  … to bury her face in my neck.

  I nearly have a heart attack. A sudden jolt of sensation shoots through me from that point, racing up to my brain, where it bursts into a wave of heat.

  A fraction of a second later, I react with a start. Then I try to pull away from her, but in the meantime she’s already had time to take a deep breath.

  “Wha… wh-what are you do-dooing!” I stammer, bumping into Archeos in my attempt to move away.

  A shiver runs through me. I feel a sort of tickle where the girl’s breath brushed against me.

  “I see you’ve put on some scent,” Dawn remarks, straightening up. “Any particular reason?”

  “I haven’t put on any scent!”

  “I meant you’ve tidied yourself up.”

  I stare at her for a few seconds. Quickly, I’m trying to suppress the sensations I felt just now. What on earth got into her? I wasn’t expecting that, out of nowhere!

  My heart keeps pounding, while I feel a kind of tingling around my neck. Not an unpleasant one, truth be told. Which, perhaps, makes the situation even more embarrassing.

  I’m almost afraid it’ll show… how I didn’t really dislike her gesture, in fact. Damn it, what’s going through my head?

  “You’ve got an eye for detail,” I finally declare, trying to compose myself. “I was a bit too dishevelled after your training.”

  “Oh, really?” she says.

  She looks at me for a moment. Then she smiles, and sits down beside me.

  “Jim must have exaggerated a bit in the way he described things,” she asserts.

  “What did Jim say?”

  “Nothing important.”

  She looks at me and smiles.

  “You’re far too shy for it to be true.”

  I stare at her, uncomprehending; I must have missed something.

  Beside me, Archeos is displaying a surprising amount of interest in his now-empty plate.

  ???

  Nipria is in her cabin. She’s in a fine mood as she changes out of her grease-stained clothes into some that are a little cleaner. At the moment, she’s the only one in the room—which, for lack of space, she shares with two other women of the crew.

  Who knows… maybe tomorrow I could show him the engines, she thinks. He seems interested in those things… or at least, he often deals with that sort of stuff when he’s with Archeos.

  She tosses her top onto the bunk and stretches.

  I wonder what’s troubling him, she reflects. His gaze often drifts off into the distance. Does he miss his world?

  Nipria has little difficulty believing that Ethan comes from a planet other than Tersain. Of course, such an origin is unusual; it’s mad to think it possible.

  But she had noticed right from the start that there was something distinctive about that boy. You might call it an intuition, but it’s closer to a “sensory” perception than a “mental” one. Something the artificer had never experienced before—so strong it’s hard to ignore.

  There’s something exotic about the lad, so that, even though he tries not to stand out, he ends up standing out like some alien element.

  A peculiarity that stirs the rebel’s curiosity.

  And yet, despite all that, he’s like any one of us. A human being, lost because he’s far from home, but striving to adapt to new circumstances.

  Nipria smiles.

  I’ll have to help him. That way, living here will start to please him, and he won’t suffer from it.

  She reaches for a shirt to put on, when she’s struck by a sudden shudder. A fit of violent coughing shakes her, and she doubles over, pressing a hand against her mouth, her face contorted in pain. When the attack subsides, the girl, panting, draws her palm away from her face.

  A reddish stain wets her fingers.

  That was a bad one, she thinks, still exhausted. The cold must have irritated me. Maybe I shouldn’t have gone out in this weather.

  ahead of Royal Road?

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