"The control room," Bath breathed. "At last." He strode forward into the room, his expression the picture of an emperor returning to his throne. "This will do, for now," he said, smirking. "Transfer the blueprints to my companion's chip reader, then lead us to the surface."

Wait...we just entered this weird, open room filled with a glowing white pedestal at its center...and we're going to leave? Lisa was somewhat incredulous: She itched to inspect the inscribed purple floor and touch the pedestal.

AI Ninety-Seven inclined its head, responding, "This one shall lead." The robot led them back through the main corridor, taking them past the many closed doors and Franz's bedroom. Finally, the robot reached the spot where it had originally lay in stasis.

"I shall return," Bath stated as he peered up into the light of the hole leading to the surface. "Come, Asil."

Lisa walked forward, stopping at his side. Bath looked down at her, smiled, and jumped up into the tunnel. As he did so and left the line of sight of the robot, his form rapidly shifted to that of a small bird. Lisa grinned and jumped up, combusting the air beneath her feet while pressing down with her administrator-boon-empowered magnetic sense. She launched into the air, surpassing Bath in speed as the wind whipped against her face and tousled her hair. She used her magnetic sense to cycle air around the flames beneath her feet, increasing the thrust they exerted on her body.

She popped out of the tunnel like a cork off of a bottle of champagne, shooting into the open red atmosphere of Vast Desert and through a patch of fluffy, low-lying clouds. She quickly reversed direction with her magnetic sense, redirecting herself toward the hole.

In contrast, just as Lisa was smashing down on the sand, Bath flew up, his wings pumping leisurely at his sides.

"So, you've finally arrived," Lisa joked. "Slowpoke."

Bath smirked. "From my current vantage point, seems to me like you've also only just reached the surface."

Lisa stuck out her tongue and grinned. "I still beat you. Anyways, care to explain what the hell was going on down there?"

Bath sighed. "You saw everything that I saw," he quipped. "All I've been able to glean is that some alien species built this ship and sent it on a mission. Its operator ran into trouble, and the ship crashed."

Lisa began to pace. "The ship's lone sapient occupant was transporting a library. We don't know the destination, but we do know that the ship encountered trouble in the Jeveda Galaxy after receiving missile fire from a ship called ATD-jefeal-0122." Lisa sighed. "I feel like Juserin would be able to make more sense of this than ourselves."

Bath nodded, rubbing at his eyes. "Probably. From the conversations I've had with the verdora on this expedition, I doubt any would have anything useful to offer."

Lisa turned around, her eyes glinting. "What about Eyrin?"

Bath cocked his head. "Maybe. I don't know why he'd know anything, but it can't hurt to ask. After all, we're not going to be keeping this place a secret."

Lisa frowned. "Bath, we don't know if this place is safe or not. What if it's another trap?"

Bath shook his head. "I don't think so. Actually, I think that this place is the key: while voyagers are small and limited to a crew of a few people, a ship like this..."

That was the first thing I thought of, she noted. But we don't understand the technology; moreover, I don't think we'll be able to manufacture all the parts in the blueprint the AI gave us. However, despite her misgivings, Lisa just shrugged. "Well, we can give the blueprints to the engineers and see what happens."

---

Dean almost spat out his mouthful of water when Lisa and Bath appeared in his room without warning, flying in from the balcony. He rapidly swallowed, then asked, "Can I help you?"

"Dean, Bath and I found a space ship," Lisa deadpanned.

Dean blinked. No way. "Like, a space ship space ship? That can travel through outer space? Here, on Vast Desert?"

Lisa nodded. "Exactly."

Dean let out an exasperated gasp. "I almost can't believe this is happening. Where?"

Bath grunted a laugh. "On the other side of the planet. By the other gate."

The second exit gate? Dean recalled, confused. "I thought that was just a one-way gate."

"So did we," Lisa replied. "But apparently not."

Is the data Juserin gave to us wrong? Dean wondered. "So this ship: how long has it been on Vast Desert?"

"Roughly two-thousand years," Bath responded, plopping down into one of the Spire office's two couches. "So, just a blink of an eye."

Dean's head spun. That's like...year zero, on Earth. Back during the Roman empire. "Sure it is," he murmured, inhaling deeply while using his thought-to-text technology to transcribe the conversation and his personal thoughts. "How do you know how old it is?"

"The ship has a robot," Lisa explained. "Its name is AI Ninety-Seven. I and the other kursi actually found the robot earlier today, submerged five miles underground. When I went back later with Bath, he was able to impersonate the species of the robot's creator and trick it into bringing us on a tour of the place."

Dean nodded his head slowly. "Okay, then. Um, so the ship is underground?"

"Yep," Bath said. "Though I'm sure we can have the engineers fix it up and give it some fuel."

That would be great, Dean thought. If we had any information to work with. "Do you know anything about the ship?"

Bath grinned deviously, while Lisa snorted and rolled her eyes. "Bath ordered the robot to make him a document of blueprints for every part of the ship that needs to be created or repaired."

"Along with a blueprint of the ship, as well as a summary of required parts," Bath added. "Will that be enough?" A smile played around the edges of his mouth.

Dean gave the two of them an exhausted look. "This..." he finally muttered, trailing off and shaking his head. "Lisa, can you give me that document?"

She smiled and nodded. "Sure thing." She walked over and paused, cocking her head. "Uh, do you know how to transfer files?"

That's when Bath's face lit up. "I know!" he exclaimed.

Dean raised an eyebrow. "Same." This quashed Bath's excitement. Dean then explained to Lisa how to transfer the file, grinning when it eventually appeared on his chip reader.

"Why don't you give that to the engineers, ask them what they think, et cetera," Lisa suggested while leaning against Dean's desk. "Also, what's your relationship with Aberash?"

Dean's expression didn't change, though he didn't speak. Inside, his mind was in tumult. Why is she asking me that? he wondered. Could it have been...

He looked over toward the couches, narrowing his eyes at a certain someone. Seeing the mischievous glint in Bath's eyes, Dean tsked and groaned. "Bath, you are the worst suite mate," he grumbled.

"What's that got to do with anything?" Lisa asked.

"What kind of terrible person stalks his suite mate?" Dean muttered, giving Bath a pointed look.

"I'm not a person," Bath replied simply, crossing his legs and reclining across the couch's length. "And in case you haven't noticed, we aren't suite mates anymore."

"Stop dancing around the question, Dean" Lisa interjected with a chuckle, joining Dean in giving Bath a disparaging look. "I know that Bath can be a jerk, but I'm truly curious."

Why? "There's nothing going on," Dean replied. "Um, seriously."

"You sure? Then why were you in Aberash's dressing room?"

Dean exhaled and closed his eyes. "That's what you want to know?"

Lisa gave him a questioning look. Crap, Dean thought. Did I just imply that she knows too little? A fatal mistake.

"Lisa, I don't want to talk about this now. How about we talk about this some other time, when I don't have a pressing duty to transmit this file to our engineers?" I need some time to think this conversation over: it sounds like just the kind of social interaction he'd want to prewrite.

Lisa gave him a small smile. "I'll agree as long as you promise to tell me eventually. And soon."

Though Bath sighed, he didn't say anything in protest.

Dean smiled nervously. Just what have I agreed to? "It's a deal."

---

Fartuun gaped, looking up at Dean and back to the hologram in front of her. "Th-this..."

Dean frowned. I've never seen her shaken before. "Are you okay?"

She turned to him, an expression of ecstasy taking root. "This is the best day of my life," she murmured. Then, she turned back to the hologram and squealed. "I always thought I was destined to give and never take in this relationship," she exclaimed.

"Uh..." Dean didn't know how to react. "Is this really the best day of your life?"

Fartuun stopped and once more looked back to Dean, cocking her head so that her glossy hair shifted down her back and left arm. "You're right: the best day was when you established Jerboaland."

Dean made a dismissive motion. "I just planted the city-seed."

Fartuun grinned. "I know. Thank god COTD showed up." She snickered. "It's funny, how we continue to use phrases that reference the old gods..."

Dean frowned. "'Old gods?'" he echoed. "As in, the pagan gods?"

Fartuun snorted. "No; Yahweh, Allah, you know."

"Didn't COTD say that it was a church of the body?"

"It did," Fartuun admitted.

"And didn't the Church and Dragon say repeatedly that they didn't deal with anything beyond the corporeal?"

Fartuun gave him a sad grin. "You don't have to repeat the same sentence twice: I get it. Don't tell me...you think there's more than what's here, in the flesh? A beyond?"

Dean knew where this conversation was going. "Let's get back on track," he said. "Blueprints: what can the engineers accomplish based on what we have?"

Fartuun shook her head. "At this point, I don't know. It'll take time to sort through everything, even with the scholar boons helping us to sponge the information. I'll report back to you in a day; wait for my call."

Dean nodded. "Alright. I'll see you around."

He moved first, sprinting away as fast as possible so that all Fartuun saw was an afterimage. After he was several miles away from Jure and alone in the desert, he manipulated one of the tiny dragonleaf fronds fastened to the back of his Dawn tabard into two posts and a hammock. Then, he hopped onto it and lay down.

"Why can't I just have a normal conversation with anyone?" he sighed, rocking back and forth. "Even the damned squirrels won't leave me alone when I cash in on my PP."

He recalled the somewhat grizzly scene in the morning when he'd gone to the Anima to check his current PP balance. As soon as he walked through the doors, five squirrels had demanded a signature, each. They had all held out a postcard-like print of him punching a tank or something.

At least you can't see my face because of the dust, Dean thought. Though in hindsight, it's probably for the best that those old, baggy sweats got ruined.

This wasn't anything new; he kept a pen with him at all times--it was currently in his jean's right front pocket--for this purpose and quickly signed each of their papers.

"Why do they do that only when I'm in a room with them?" Dean wondered, placing his fists into the central pocket of his brown, Dawn-faction-distributed dragonweave sweatshirt. The squirrels existed all throughout the city, making deliveries and assisting people in navigation. However, when Dean was walking about, the squirrels kept their distance.

In the Anima, however, when the squirrel density was at its highest, the quasies gained a new-found confidence. In fact, the attention that they lavished upon him actively discouraged him from tallying and using his PP.

And boy, did he have PP. He was swimming in it; Dean sighed and removed a hand to rub his forehead as he recalled how the squirrels lined up all around the appraisal stands when he entered. After he autographed the images of more than twenty squirrels, he finally arrived at an appraising squirrel.

After she read off his PP number, no less than five of the squirrels in the audience fainted. Dean had no idea what Bath had done when he made the squirrel quasies, but it was extremely embarrassing.

"Can't a guy just check his PP in peace?"

Y'know, I should ask Fartuun about that.

Suddenly, a rocketing white object and a spray of sand stole his attention. After spitting out a few red granules, Dean smiled, then said, "Nice to see you, Viri."

"Dean!" the little jerboa cried, leaping up into the hammock. "Finally found you."

Dean scooched over, giving the jerboa a bit of room. "So, how are the tunnel networks going?"

"They're okay," Virigard sighed. "The sand's an annoying material to work with."

"I think I may have a big project for you guys," Dean said. "How do you feel about digging up a two-thousand-year-old alien space ship?"