Kyra’s trembling hands accepted the package, grasping the slender metal folio with both hands for fear the turbulent winds whipping off the bay would snatch Papa’s gift for itself. Through eyes blurred with tears, she kissed Papa goodbye; his strong arms pulling her tightly into his broad chest with such might she feared his embrace would crush the unknown treasure in her hands. He barked a few words over the cacophony and wiped the tears from her cheeks before she turned and quickly boarded the waiting vessel.

Zeke leaned his cloaked resolute frame into Bravo’s hot bluish-white blast, the steel-plated deck beneath his feet rattling like an old wooden rollercoaster, the metal handrail transferring a final blessed kiss of warmth to his aged and leathery palms. Defiant and proud, he shunned the standard bulky blast goggles, paying for his unadulterated view with eyes that burned and teared with a scene he never dreamed would shimmer before them. He had seen plenty of mirages in his travels across the sands of Silus; but this was not Silus and that vessel was no mirage. She was leaving. She wasn’t coming back. Quick as lightning with a thunderous cracking report to match, the vessel disappeared into the roiling dark grey clouds taking its warmth and heat as quickly as it had taken his love.

“Master Zeke, are we going home now?” asked Blu, who was, for all intents and purposes, Goldie’s mechanical brother.

“Yes Blu, we’re going home.”

“And Miss Kyra, should we wait for her?”

“No Blu. She’s not coming with us.”

“Oh.”

“On second thought Blu, let’s head to Valla. I don’t much feel like being alone at home tonight.”

“But Master Zeke, you always have me.”

“Yes Blu, I do. I always have you.”

“Should I alert Miss Kyra as to our destination?”

“That won’t be necessary. Miss Kyra won’t be coming back.”

“Oh. And Goldie?”

“Blu, I’m afraid we will never see either of them again. When we get to Valla, would you fix me some snizzle?”

“Yes Master Zeke.”

“And perhaps, just this once Blu, add a drachm of snoot.”

Immeadiately upon arriving at Valla, Zeke entered his study overlooking the cove and begin to write:

I look back on the general unfairness of life, and I wonder where this idea, that everything would even out, wrongs righted, hard work rewarded, I wondered who planted this idea so deeply in the fertile soil of my adolescent mind. If I could find them today, I would beat them to within an inch of their life; an inch with asinine precision, with cold calculation, with malice born of infected rusty oozing bitterness.

“Master Zeke, your snizzle, just as you requested.”

“Thank you Blu.”

“Will there be anything else?”

“Shut down all communications and secure the compound. I need some time alone.”

Categories: Story, Kyra, Papa, Zeke, Hyneria, Blu

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