He'd only left an hour ago.  Darkness had fallen and the storm outside was screaming and tearing at the building.  It was lunacy to go out in this weather.  But he was out there, and in only the clothes he'd put on this morning.  He and Edgar both.

They'd die out there, surely, if they didn't get a move on.  

Woola whined at her, picking up on the desperation she felt crawling down her spine.  She'd put on her winter coat and boots, and taken the goggles bar had given her.  Ellen and Ysalwen were already waiting for her at the backdoor.  She handed each of them one of the electric lanterns Bar had provided.

"Are we ready?  Do we need anything else?"  

 After their run around the lake was ended by meeting Curtis's unfortunate partner in the whole body swap debacle, Dejah headed back to the room for a good long shower.  It was pure indulgence, standing under the hot water for so long, but she was allowed.  Here, anyway.  She'd be extremely mindful of bringing these bad habits back to Helium with her.

Her mind keeps going over the implications of Curtis having a double here.  A doppelganger who is genetically enhanced somehow.  Healthy and whole.  It makes her wonder if she's not doing enough to make sure he's healing.  Replacing the arm was one thing, but an extended period of malnutrition and captivity left other physical scars.

It is all a work in progress, one that will take many years to see gains.  Much like the Work back in Helium.  She makes a mental note to research the drawings he'd spoken of.  If there is any record of all of his time on the train, surely the library here will have it preserved.  Maybe something to help Edgar understand the whole picture.  Even if he can never forgive, the least he can do is to try to understand it.  

She steps out of the shower and towels off, still turning over the human ideals of morality, of fairness and justice.  She tries to put the thoughts aside for now, knowing full well, she can easily drive herself mad if she doesn't.  Instead, she dries her hair and tries to clear her mind.

And not think about random magical spells that could rip her consciousness from her body and put into another's.  Yeah, comforting.

Days like today, time moves strangely.

The morning's events had driven them into the darkest oubliettes of memory and they'd each needed help finding their way out. It had stretched and pulled them to pieces and they'd spent the rest of the day quietly putting each other back together. It was time well spent in her book, even if it meant napping away the afternoon. They were alone together and that's all either one of them really could handle at the moment.

The day finally shifts into twilight and her stomach rumbles. She opens one eye to peer up at him. He looks so much older than he did, even yesterday.

 [After this.]

Dejah wakes and eats her breakfast on the terrace, looking out over the city.  When she's done, she finds herself pacing the floor, waiting for the door to Milliways to show up again.

The moment the sun hits the far wall, it reappears in a shimmer of dust motes. Dejah smiles with relief.  She grabs up the copper-clad box with the data crystals, and a few of her notebooks.  She starts over the threshold, and at the last moment, she whirls around and grabs Curtis's hat off her pillow.

The whole place is bustling, so she looks for him in his usual place at the bar.

It was after dinner and she'd finished up her work for the day. She shook out her hand, stretched the muscles of her fingers, hoping that the tendon would stretch with it.  It hurt more and more with each passing day, but she had other things to worry about.  Curtis was supposed to meet her after he'd worked out and checked on Edgar.

That was two hours ago.  She finally broke down and touched two fingers to her bracelet.  It pulsed blue and she got the sense he was in his room.  Strange.  She touched it again, just to be sure.  No, he was there.  Alive and attached to the pendant.

She decides to go down and say hello, find out if everything's okay.  A few minutes later, she's knocking at his door.  

"Curtis?"

She'd kept his journals.  All of them.  They were well worn, the leather dark with age but still supple, still soft in her hands.  The pages were fragile in places, but still whole.  Even the parts she'd thumbed through thousands of times.

( As she was doing now. )

Dejah had thought, by returning to work on the Project, she could forget about her other concerns for a little while. It was only ever the Project in her mind. It had been the Project since those very first days after they'd realized, the Thern threat had been dealt with, once and for all. The War was over. The Project began. Terraforming a planet was no small undertaking. It had been over a century in the works already, and looked to be at least three more in the making. By that time, she expected there would be no way to conceal their presence from Jasoom any longer, and they had to be prepared for that eventuality as well. So, the first iteration of atmospheric generators had been brought online, and the second and third iterations had entered development and testing. Subterranean pump houses were already supplementing what little surface water they had, and they were a long way from open air reservoirs on the surface. Right now, subterranean reservoirs would have to do. And there was so much more to consider on the surface. Topography and geological surveys to be completed. Small scale test environments to be built, merely proof of concepts at this point, but they were no small endeavor in and of themselves.

She'd been back for three days, working straight through, and her people none the wiser that she'd been gone for more than a month through a secret door between universes. She looked over the plans as they stood, and found everything to be on target, just as they'd been when she'd left. So why wasn't the tension behind her eyes relieved?

She knew why. She'd been avoiding thinking about it. About him. She stepped away from her drafting tables and for the first time, thought to herself, Who do I know that could counsel me on this issue? The first question really was, what was it she needed counselling on? There was no one here in the city who could even begin to understand what it was that Curtis had been through. But she thought perhaps, she knew someone who might.

"Sola, I want to go and visit your father."

"Yes, my Jeddak. He should be back in the Old City by the end of next month."

"I want to go visit him now."

"But… My Jeddak, he is on the path now. There was good hunting to be had in the southern reaches this season. He will be with his hunting parties, out in the Warhoon."

"Well, send a flyer to locate him and we shall ride out."

"My Jeddak… Dejah… That is at least five days on thoat back. Might we take a flyer instead?"

"Sola, my friend. I need some time away from the city. I need the desert now. Surely you understand?"

Sola regarded her Jeddak and dear friend with a knowing look. "Are you going into seclusion again? As you did before, when…?" She could not say it, but they both knew what she meant. Dejah had ridden out to the Temple of Iss after John's passing. A journey that should have only taken a week ended up lasting six months.

"No, no not at all." Dejah put a hand on Sola's shoulder. "I merely need to speak with your father. I require his counsel. And the ride will clear my head before we get there."

Sola closed her eyes and dipped her chin, a smile of relief touching her lips. "As you will. I will have the flyer sent out immediately. Mounts to be ready by morning?"

"Let's leave tonight."

"As you will. I will let them know."

Dejah quietly thanked her, and turned back to the room. She hadn't been in the field in far too long. Suddenly, she was actually looking forward to it.

~~~

The flyers located the Thark hunting band eight days ride south of the city of Helium, and Dejah's small caravan of guards and attendants set out to intercept them a few days out from the Old City. She'd had them bring water, enough for a traditional peace offering, along with other gifts of food and wine. She would not be seen to be a burden on the Thark's already limited resources. But not too many gifts. He had his pride as well.

Woola was acting as point, and kept them on target despite the shifting sands and usual dust storms. All she had to do was tell him, "Find Tars Tarkas." And the calot had done the rest. He was his usual grumpy self, as the thoats did not move with near enough alacrity for his taste, but he also seemed to be enjoying the wide open space. He'd adapted as best he could to city life, but he was a calot and as such, belonged in the empty expanse of Barsoom's red desert.

When they caught up with Tars Tarkas and his men, she made sure it was at a leisurely pace, giving them enough time to spot the dust of their trail and send out riders to meet them. It was an hour before sunset when they were escorted to meet the Thark Jeddak and longtime family friend.

Dejah closes the sketchbook and pushes back from the simple workbench she keeps in her room, the surface of which is currently buried under stacks of books and diagrams and multiple iterations of drawings.  The research phase is as complete as it can be, short of actually acquiring a flesh and blood human arm to dissect, and she is an engineer not a doctor.  So that option is right out.  

She thinks about leaving a note at the bar for him, but decides against it.  Best just to see if he's available.  She needs something to eat anyway.  A few minutes later, she settles at the bar, waiting for her lunch to be packaged up so she can take it back to the room.

 She'd taken copious notes on his specifications for modifying the Buell RS1200 motorcycle, and even at this late in the design phase, she was still muttering under her breath about how much more sensible a light-skimmer would be.  But he'd been very clear. It had to maintain the original appearance and it had to remain in contact with the surface at all times.

She'd already converted the original engine to a radium drive, and now she was adding in additional features for speed, maneuverability and stability.  He wasn't always going to be running on the smooth surface of pavement or even a moss plain.  So it had to have inertial stabilizers.  And it had to have certain aerodynamic stabilizers so that it remained upright and travelling in the indicated direction at high velocity.  If that wasn't a challenge enough, he wanted to be able to do hair-pin turns and extreme course alterations at speed.

She'd already extended the capabilities of the onboard calculating engine to encompass the algorithms for these features.  She'd added a force shield that would only deploy when required, which required sensors to anticipate the vectors of incoming threats.

Now, she was in the process of modifying a test body, and manufacturing parts to be fitted.  She had the bike up on a test bench, stripped down to bare bones and with the radium drive already added in.  She had grease up to her elbows and a nice big smear across her cheek.  Her hair was piled on top of her head, speared through with a pencil.  Beside her, there were several bins of parts and tools clearly staged to begin the retrofit.

Now all she needed was a pot of tea and some music and she'd be set.  She wiped a rag across her brow, and squinted at the suspension units.  She had a holo of the original bike up so she could refer to it, and she reached a hand over to spin it 360 degrees.  Two fingers pinched and zoomed to blow it up so she could examine it closer.

She left the Hall of Science, making her end of day walk back to the Royal Residences.  A babbling crowd of students followed in her wake, all jockeying for a chance to speak to her.  Her assistant hovered at her elbow, trying to take down notes as fast as he could write.  The Regent spoke to each student in turn, calling them by name, speaking of their assignments and giving suggestions, smiling despite how tired she was.

"Enough!  Enough.  I will be back in my office next week.  We shall discuss more then.  Now, please.  Please.  I beg you.  Go away!"

There was a murmur of disappointment, but they nodded and fell back, her assistant beating back the last few by mock-threatening to hit them with his notebook.

"Thank you, Tanux.  That will be all."

"Your Highness," he answered, bowing and excusing himself as her personal guard took up their positions around her. Dejah sighed.  Admiral Kantos again, concerned for her personal safety. They followed her all the way to the outer doors to her  chambers, and then, thankfully, left her in peace.

She continued through the inner doors... and walked into a room that was not at all what she expected.