The Many-Faced paused, casting an unkind glance at his colleagues. “You, like everyone else in the central worlds, cherish the hope of claiming a share from the Ice Vigor clan in order to cover your losses. That’s why you need Phoenix blood. Am I right?”
Nobody answered him. The uncomfortable question hung in the air.
The captain’s voice interrupted the silence. “We have an emergency that requires your orders. Permission to enter and report?”
Ebrik Veli Vao, the youngest brother of the slain Homo-3, replied, “Come in, Guerin.”
A slender man with a trim haircut and a military build appeared in the command center. He was renowned as the best captain of the Homo-3.
“What happened?” Ebrik asked, irritated. Every minute of delay was costing him dearly.
The captain reported, “Our systems cannot detect the object we need.”
Ebrik blanched. “W-why?”
A ringing silence reigned in the room. The captain’s face twitched. “Unknown. The main AI has only been able to determine the object’s approximate location.”
Ebrik Veli Vao shook, his face contorted in anger and blotched with large red spots. He turned to the Many-Faced, spluttering, “You will lead the ship to the planet. Hurry, assassin, and your race will receive their share after the Ice Vigor clan are defeated. Happy now?”
Tekot Smul the Many-faced, unflappable, bent his head, grimaced, and bared his teeth like a hungry wolf. “This low-born upstart, Alex Phoenix, doesn’t deserve a quick death. He must spend years in a torture chamber. However, if you insist. On another topic, when will I finally see my ‘Scarlet Eradicator’?”
Ebrik Veli Vao withdrew a seemingly unremarkable dagger. “Here. Take it, and fulfill our agreements!” he croaked through clenched teeth.
The Many-Faced grasped the dagger, eying the Great Assassin. He felt an incomparable delight and didn’t seem to hear Ebrik.
Tekot Smul the Many-Faced lunged at Ebrik, pressing the Scarlet Eradicator to his throat. “Why is it gray when it should be scarlet?” he seethed, oblivious to Ebrik’s sickness.
The Homo-3 puffed up his eyes, gasping for air like a fish as the medical droids began injecting drugs. He finally managed to control himself, responding, “This blade hasn’t tasted the blood of sorcerers in many years. We believe it belonged to an ancient necromancer. When it penetrates flesh, it takes the victim’s blood, apparently for rituals, or curses, or possibly for use in blood magic.”
“What else should I know?” Tekot Smul asked, removing the blade from the Homo-3’s throat and swishing it around at a dragonfly’s wings speed.
Ebrik Veli Vao cleared his throat. “Take the evidence.” He held out the brick.
For a moment, a glimmer of surprise ran across Tekot Smul’s stern face. “Why do I need this piece of baked clay?”
“It’s simple. Alex Phoenix held it in his hands. He sent the brick in response to the System’s request for forbidden artifacts.”
Tekot Smul threw his head back and laughed. “What a creative person. If not for the high losses of our clan, I would invite him to our brotherhood.”
***
Tekot Smul boarded a small spaceship and laid course for the planet.
“Captain Guerin, how long before I arrive on… Earth, I gather this world is called?” he asked the pilot.
The captain nodded. “Correct, Master Tekot Smul. The flight will take approximately two hours.”
Tekot Smul frowned at the barely visible dot — the planet — on the hologram. “I’m going to sleep. Wake me when we’ve achieved orbit.”
Two hours later, they both eyed the planet covered with strange purple cyclones and thunderstorms.
Tekot Smul swore. He didn’t like surprises. “What the hell is going on here? It doesn’t look at all like I imagined.”
“Curious,” the captain said. “The specifications state that Earth belongs to the third type — the Blue Worlds.”
Tekot Smul said nothing, barely looking Captain Guerin’s way.
“Alex Phoenix is down there somewhere,” the captain continued.
They peered into the area marked by the spaceship’s main AI.
Tekot Smul chuckled. “I think I know the reason. Tell me, what is the search area and what are your suggestions?”
“The search area is eighty-three thousand, nine hundred and eight square miles. I would advise beginning your search in the largest city in the region.” A three-dimensional picture zoomed in, displaying a large, sprawling metropolis.
Tekot Smul nodded. “That makes sense, Guerin. Land here.” He jabbed a finger at the outskirts of the city on the hologram.
The spaceship landed silently undetected.
The captain announced, “Landfall achieved. Overboard, air mixture. Pressure, the force of gravity are correct. Ambient temperature is twenty-five degrees above zero, with slight precipitation.”
“Guerin, you impress me. I haven’t seen such a pinpoint landing for some time.” Tekot Smul couldn’t resist praising the captain. Despite his overweening narcissism, he respected professionals. “Scan the area, and be alert. Under no circumstances are you to deactivate invisibility. Away team, full combat readiness! Wait for my order at the airlock. Open the door.”
Tekot Smul stepped out of the ship, cautiously licking the brick. He swiveled around, chewing his lips and surveying the area. Finally, he took the trail. His features sharpened unnaturally and his neck lengthened. He seemed to be stretched toward the south, like some otherworldly creature.
The onboard AI reported a battle being waged two miles away. This interested Tekot Smul.
The captain watched Tekot Smul’s departure on the hologram. He felt his hair stand on end. He considered himself a seasoned warrior, but the Many-Faced was on another level.
Tekot Smul ran into the wheelhouse, growling, “Guerin, is there an armory here?”
The captain jumped up from his chair. “Yes, sir, but it is empty. AI, show the armory on the diagram.”
“Watch carefully, captain, but don’t bother me with trifles.”
Tekot Smul slipped out
