September 18th, 3040

By dawn the raging storm was spent down to just an annoying soaking rain, the kind that would likely last all day, but it was better than the frequent lightening strikes and just barely not gale force winds of the previous evening. Travis was up with the dawn, which was his custom, and as he was looking out over the balcony, enjoying his morning coffee, he saw the arrival of the new Strider that had been dispatched. The guards at the gate, were more than a bit vexed by it trotting up by itself, then displaying a hologram of Travis himself, but shying away when ever one of the guards approached it.

“It's ok,” he shouted to them. “It's with me.”

The guards exchanged a look, then went back to their post shelters and the Strider trotted over to the inn and joined the line of the other machine horses awaiting their humans from inside. That accomplished, Travis took his cup with him and wandered down stairs and out to the little porch on the inn that the Striders stood before. “Identify,” he ordered the machine, which stared at him with it's blue light and camera combination, gave an exaggerated nod, then dipped it's head into the 'stand by' posture the other machines had adopted. He took the saddle bag off it's rear hips and went back in side.

The innkeeper and his family were all up, his wife and daughters busy making bread while his two sons were putting the wooden chairs back down on the floor from where they'd been stacked on the tables the night before. “Breakfast, Colonel?” the elder asked him and he nodded.

“Would you do me a kindness and wake Resolved Furahni and inform her I await her pleasure in the main room?”

“Certainly, sir,” the boy replied as he dipped his head and headed to the main stairwell as his father walked over, wiping his hands on his apron.

“You've a lovely family,” Travis complimented which the Innkeeper beamed at.

“My thanks, sir. We appreciate having you as our guests.” He gave the cup in the other man's hand a glance. “Ale?”

“Oh no,” Travis chuckled. “Much too early for me. I'm happy with my coffee, thanks.”

“Coffee?” the other man asked, genuinely curious.

Travis nodded as he sat down at the table and invited the Innkeeper to join him. “It's an Ancient beverage, made from the stones of a berry that originally grew on a bush, thousands of miles from here, across a great water called the Atlantic Ocean. The pit of the berry is roasted then ground into a powder of varying degrees of course or fineness, then hot water is passed through the grounds.” He held up his mug. “Would you care to try some? Though I warn you it's an acquired taste.”

The Innkeeper smiled and shook his head. “No sense acquiring a taste for something that can't be traded in.”

Travis smiled faintly. “Oh, my people are obsessed with it. I imagine there'll be a brisk trade in a few years.”

“You have seedlings of these bushes from across this, what did you call it? Ocean?”

“Seeds, yes, and they were planted earlier this year,” he replied. “Some of many we brought with us. Though they won't mature for a few years yet. I'll bring you some when they have.”

“Very generous,” the Innkeeper complimented. “I'll look forward to it.” His son came down the stairs and waved at Travis.

“She says she'll be with you presently, Colonel.”

“Thank you, young man.”

“And I'll have your breakfast presently,” his father commented as he tipped the cap he wasn't wearing and trod back into his kitchen. Travis opened the saddle bag to find the Focus in a protective case as well as several letters, one of which was actually in the Carja Script. Travis tapped his Focus and immediately a ghostly translation appeared over it.

Travis laughed to himself at his boss's brilliance and mentally tipped his hat to the canny play he was making. Just because you were the strongest kid on the block, didn't make you a match for all the other kids, and it never hurt to be friends with the most popular kid. “That's why he's a CEO and you're just Head of Security,” he told himself softly as he found and put the instruction manual to the Focus with the letter to the king.

There was a letter to him, which he recognized as Ian's handwriting, informing him the storm the previous evening had brought a Stormbird close enough to Fort Carson that he was actually able to over ride it. Unlike the Striders, there wasn't accommodation for human use of the mechanical bird, which was constructed with what seemed an odd mishmash of competing objectives. There were dispersion tanks on either flank that seemed to have been designed for dispersing cloud seeding chemicals, even super cooled materials like dry ice. Which made sense for it's origin as a terraforming robot for GAIA. However, it was obvious HEPHAESTUS had been tinkering with the design. There was a crude kind of directed energy weapon that was an ionizing LASER with a static electricity generator to create an arc of lightening that would generally, but not precisely follow the ionizing path of the LASER. As well as the reports of the Nora who had joined the AmSci that the Stormbird was fond of using those super cooled fluids as a strafing weapon.

Fortunately, the override had worked perfectly and if nothing else, the Stormbird would make a great semi-armed drone, though at least one of the shop boys were lobbying to try and fit a saddle to the damn thing. Somebody seemed to have a death wish.

Travis tisked his teeth at the risk Frank had allowed their tech genius to take, but success covered a multitude of sins as the saying went.

It was then that Resolved Furahni came down the stairs, looking remarkably alert and well rested. Travis wondered how often she got to actually sleep in a bed as she nodded her good morning and sat down with him at the table. “Good Marrow,” she greeted as she gave the Innkeeper's son a wave to request a beverage. “You wanted to see me?”

“Good morning,” Travis replied, and slid the letter to the Sun King to where she could read it. “You'll be using this until we get back to Meridian so you can keep up. I'll apologize ahead of time about the jostling you'll get riding a Strider. You'll want to familiarize yourself with the Focus and how to use it.”

“Ah, so that's what those things are I see you and the Savior wear.”

“Savior?” asked Travis.

“The Seeker, Alloy. She's been affirmed by Sun King Avad as the Savior of Meridian,” Furahni informed him. She took the device from the protection of it's box and held it up. “It's strange so small a thing can do all I read in this paper.”

“The joys of miniaturization,” Travis replied.

“And it can command all machines?”

“No,” Murray corrected quickly. “It's predominately a communications device, allowing people to see and hear each other across great distances. The Strider was overridden back at Fort Carson, then...tied would be the best word, to that Focus. But, of itself, it can't tie other machines.”

“I see,” the other nodded. “Interesting.” She held it up to her right temple as she saw how Travis and the others had worn theirs and was surprised to find it staying their of it's own accord. She looked around, somewhat amazed. “What are all these lights I see?”

“The Focus has a mode we called 'Augmented Reality', where it could see where you were looking, based on the position of your eyes and identify things to bring them to your attention. This particular Focus has our standard information built into it, so you'll find it highlights things that for you would be mundane. You can lower the augmentation to 'Threat' level and it will highlight machines it senses.”

Furahni chuckled and shook her head. “No wonder Aloy was the legendary huntress she's become. With this, anyone could be!” She accepted the mug the Innkeeper brought her and took a sip in gratitude. “So, Colonel, it's a week's walk from Day Tower to Meridian. How much faster with these Striders you command?”

“Two days,” Murray told her. “Though if pressed we could probably cut that down to a bit over a day, but as a new rider I wouldn't recommend that pace.”

The Carja woman was suitably impressed. “What a time I've lived to see.”

“Amen,” Travis echoed.

September 20th, 3040

After two uncomfortable days of trotting along the remains of I70, the party climbed out of Lone Light and into the foot hills around Eagle Canyon and the mesas upon which, Meridian, the Capital of the Sundom was perched. Interestingly, this time the road took them up the rim of the canyon and after rounding a higher mesa, the city and it's main bridge came into view. It was still an impressive sight, even with the scars of the battle with HADES still on it.

Most of the rubble had been cleared and it was obvious crops had been quickly planted, though many of the buildings still showed signs of repair and want of it. The sergeant of the guard had been one of the palace soldiers who had defended the Sun King's Palace under Travis' command and remembered the Ancient. A runner was dispatched ahead and the sergeant escorted the group through the city towards the palace, pointing out all the repairs as they passed them.

By the time the party had reached the palace, the swarthy face of Blameless Marad was waiting for them in his silk suit, a well practiced grin of welcome on his face. “Colonel! Welcome once again to the Sundom. I'm pleased to see Resolved Furahni was able to find you.”

“As luck would have it, Marad, we happened to be in Day Tower, I wanted to consult with Captain Balahn before my people moved against a bandit camp in Devil's Thirst. We didn't want to insult the Sun King by taking action.”

Marad was well pleased and his smile became wider. “That's most considerate of you. Please, feel free to defend your boarders against these bandits, if Balahn did not make that clear. I'm afraid I have you here on much more troubling news.”

“So I hear,” Travis replied. “What's happened?”

The Carja Spy Master looked about at the normal citizens goings and comings near the Palace gate, then back up Travis. “Much,” he declared softly. “But, that's a discussion we should have behind closed doors and away from prying ears. This way.” The group was led into a small garden that was large enough to contain the Striders, then briskly led down and across the small valley between the palace and the Alight where the multi-band broadcast tower of Station Minerva was standing.

The machines Alloy and the other Nora had defeated at the battle were still in the process of being scrapped and the ceremonial buildings that had been damaged in the battle were being repaired, but in the center of the colonnade, on a three meter pedestal made to resemble the broadcast tower stood a statue of the Nora huntress Aloy. The sculptor had captured the fierce Nora girl's likeness well, standing with one foot on a rock, spear in hand and her bow at her back, staring off to the south, the tower to her left.

As soon as she laid eyes on it, Nakoa snickered and failed to keep her amusement to herself. “Oh just wait till Aloy sees this!” she managed around her mirth, making their host, Marad, uncomfortable.

“She...modestly...complained she felt her task unfinished and therefor was unworthy of the honor,” he admitted tactfully. “The Sun King, however, insisted. Here we are,” he gestured at the shattered processing orb, still at the base of the tower. “As I understand it from the Savior when she arrived...”

“Aloy has been here already?” Travis asked.

Marad nodded. “I apologize that the speed of word was not swift enough to save you the journey. In fact, she left this morning. But, what we learned was the Devil HADES somehow escaped the orb and was headed west. The Savior climbed the tower and spoke with someone, a Banuk Shaman named Sylens as I understand it. It was evidently he who engineered the Devil's escape.”

“Where did Aloy go?” Nakoa demanded.

“West,” Marad replied. “We have an embassy about to occur between our furthest outpost, Barren Light, and the savage clan that lives beyond, the Tenakth.”

Travis was immediately concerned. “Savage?”

Marad was somewhat chagrined. “It's called the Forbidden West for a reason. Even before the Red Raids, the Ninth Sun King, Ranan sought to expand the Sundom to the west. We were fought by a collation of four tribes, the more peaceful Utaru, they live in the boarder lands between Barren Light and the lands of the Tenakth. They're skilled farmers for the most part, we learned a considerable amount of our own knowledge of the Farming Trade from them. The other three tribes Lowlanders, Desert and Sky Clans remained united and call themselves jointly the Tenakth. They're a violent, war like people who take tribute of food from the Utaru in exchange for protecting them from the Sundom.”

“Sounds like a new Sparta,” Buck mused to himself. At the Spy Master's inquisitive glance, he elaborated, “An Ancient tribe, ancient even in our time, that consisted of fanatical warriors who trained constantly, becoming legendary soldiers from ancient history.”

“If your Spartans were half as vicious as the Tenakth they would be formidable indeed,” Marad agreed. In his madness, Avad's father sought again to try and conquer the west for additional sacrifices during the Red Raids. We discovered the Tenakth were every bit as fearsome as their legends from Ranan's time warned.”

“And you let Aloy ride out into these killers?” Doc demanded. Marad sighed with long suffering.

“One does not allow, or hinder the Savior if she does not wish to be hindered,” he told her. “However, the Embassy is part of Avad's peace overtures with the Tenakth. Their current Chieftain, Hekarro, has agreed to exchanges of prisoners, kept by the Tenakth after the Red Raids in exchange for tribute from the Sun King. Avad's cousin, Unyielding Fashav the highest born of the captives, is due to be exchanged at this Embassy. If there is a time where Aloy could be granted safe passage through their lands, it is then.”

“When is this Embassy?” asked Travis.

“In a few weeks,” Marad told him. “It's a long walk to Barren Light, if you're going, more than a fortnight on foot, though, with your Striders, I imagine you can make better time. In fact, you'll have company on the journey, should you choose to follow her.”

The Colonel frowned. “Company?”

“The Nora War Chief's son, Varl,” the Carja replied. “He arrived with Aloy yesterday. She went up into the Spire, informed us of what she'd learned, and for whatever reason, left without him. He's provisioning right now to chase her.”

“Can you get him word we're going that way?” Travis asked.

The Spy Master gestured at a soldier who took off at a run. “Done.”

“Buck, see if you can interface your Focus with the tower. Maybe it made a recording of whatever Aloy witnessed. It would be good to have solid information.” The big man nodded.

“You got it, boss.”

Turning back to the Carja, Travis continued, “Blameless, I have a gift for the Sun King, though your agent Furahni is using it currently, a Focus and Strider.”

The other man's eye brows ascended his forehead. “Most Generous, Colonel! Though, I sense some hesitation in your tone?”

“It depends on if you want Furahni to accompany us,” Murray replied. “She'll need to keep using both so she can keep up.”

“I see your point,” Marad declared in a very cagey tone of voice. “Yes, I think it would benefit you to have Resolved Furahni and her knowledge with you. If the Sun King's gift is delayed, I doubt he'll miss what he isn't informed of.”

Travis nodded, filing away the Spy Master's guile for future reference. “I thought you'd think so.”

“Boss,” Buck declared as he ambled up. “You're gonna want to see this.” He touched his Focus and immediately a tiny ghostly Aloy appeared with another man who was evidently communicating with her by the Focus he was wearing. He was an older man of African descent, completely bald and dressed in a tunic of fur and homespun cloth with a metal bandoleer that held a large, rectangular bag at his buttocks behind him. Though it was the blue threads of what appeared to be machine parts implanted into his skin at various places that was truly off putting in a way that it was not obvious if it was some kind of human/machine interface or merely tribal ritual scarification. His hands were clasped behind his back and his tone and bearing dripped with sarcasm and smug superiority.

“Well, Aloy,” he greeted with a small smile. “I see you finally figured it out. To be honest, I'm surprised it took you so long to discover my ruse.”

For her part, the Seeker was disgusted. “You rigged the lance you give me to steal HADES? How could you be so reckless?”

“Reckless?” the other demanded. “You're the one who wanted to purge HADES before it's precious knowledge could be...extracted. The mysterious signal that woke it, for example. Or where to obtain one of those GAIA backups you've been having such a hard time finding.”

“If you knew, why didn't you just tell me?” Aloy snarled, only just keeping her temper in check.

The bald man began to pace back and forth as he considered the much younger woman before him. “I've been having problems of my own these past six months, Aloy. The difference is, I've made progress. So, once your anger at my entirely necessary deception has faded, why don't you come out here and find me in the Forbidden West, and learn all I've discovered?”

“Oh, I'll come find you alright,” Aloy swore through clinched teeth. Sylens, however, was not perturbed by the unvoiced threat.

“Yes, well the coordinates should make it simple enough...” and he paused before throwing salt into the wound of her obvious rage. “Even for you.” The dark skinned man vanished, a smug smile on his face which caused Aloy to clinch her fists and have to swallow her anger. After a moment of visually getting a hold of herself, she sighed and looked up to the heavens.

“There's no other choice,” she whispered to herself and the recording ended.

Olara put a hand on her hip and gestured at the blank space where the hologram had been. “Do you remember your mad scholar?” she asked Buck. “Who built the scaffolds and wanted so desperately into the door at GAIA Prime?” The big man nodded, a wary look on his face. “I'd bet all I have, that was him.”

It turned out Varl was in fact quite glad of company in the face of the dangers of the Forbidden West. The reunion of the young man and the Ancients who had become his tribe's neighbors was jolly and full of smiles. He'd evidently grown a full beard over the summer which gave his otherwise young face character, as Buck was quick to compliment him on. A compliment that clearly embarrassed the young man by his sheepish grin and self effacing body language.

The Sun King threw an impromptu feast, in his surprisingly modest private apartments for the party that was still a small, relatively quiet affair by the Palace's standards. Avad 14th Sun King of the Carja, discarded his royal regalia, dressed in simple linen balloon pants and a vest, though the crown was at rest on the top of his chair, ready to be re-donned at need. The King encouraged Varl to tell of his travels since the Battle of the Alight, and the Nora regaled the group with the story of his five months of tracking Aloy, the Nora Seeker across the South West until finally catching up to her at a strange ruin she had called a launch facility.

“There was a great sky ship of the old ones,” Varl told them with extravagant gestures, indicating it's size. “Still standing against a massive tower of steel and the poured stone of the Ancients.”

“Concrete,” Buck informed him. “It's called Concrete.”

“Concrete,” Varl repeated with a smile. “And around the tower coiled three Slither Fangs that hissed and snarled at each other as if fighting over the metal and the Sky Ship.”

“Slither Fangs?” demanded Nakoa, much to Travis' shock that evidently she hadn't heard of this type of machine either. Varl nodded and again held his arms apart to indicate the size disparity.

“They looked like massive snakes,” he assured her, “but with great hooded backs and at the end of their tails a wicked hook they shook to make a loud, rattling thunder. They spit a terrible acid and killed an entire Oseram Delver team. We found their camp, and what was left of them, just after the room of lies. The Slither Fangs killed them to a man, the poor sods never had a chance.”

“Towers?” demanded Doc with a curious expression on her face. “Ships of the Ancients?”

“Didn't that corporation of billionaires called Far Zenith have a launch facility in Wyoming somewhere?” Buck thought aloud. “I remember there was chatter about it on some of the conspiracy theory forums I followed for a laugh back in the day. Something about forget the world and save yourself as we fly off in outer space?”

“Yes, up by Bitter Creek, in Wyoming,” Travis informed him. “I escorted Frank out there for protection while they gave him the song and dance, but I didn't see the briefing he got. I know he came out livid and shouting at them.”

“There was a recording Aloy and I saw,” Varl told him. “In the Room of Lies. They made a great show about how they were trying to 'Save Humanity' but behind closed doors, it was just a lie. The recording urged these 'elites' as it called them to save themselves and fly to another star. I think he said it's name was Sirius.”

Travis shook his head. “Sounds about right. I recall Frank seemed very pleased with himself when the news broke their ship, the Odyssey blew up when they went to light their fusion drive.” Murray's eyes went back to Varl. “They had a shuttle still on the tower? After all these years?”

The Nora nodded gravely. “Not by much,” he admitted. “Aloy didn't have much trouble dropping it on the Slither Fangs. Though one of the cables held, and it brought the tower down with it. I thought for sure it was the end of Aloy! But she's incredible! She rode the wreckage down, leaping to a cable to swing to safety at the last instant!” He sighed. “Once we cleared the way and got into the,” and he hesitated over the unfamiliar word, “Data Center, I thought we had found a copy of GAIA, but evidently it was a fake. Something about...” and he paused to suss out exactly what he wanted to say. “I remember one of the images that made Aloy angry; the man in it called it a...logic bomb...”

Buck snickered to himself. “That sounds like Travis Tate, self styled 'super hacker.'”

Varl nodded. “He did call himself 'a Tate.' Aloy, she was about to give up, but I suggested we come here. I remembered Aloy said the Shaman Sylens knew a lot about the old world, and Blameless Marad is really good at finding people. It would have been a long walk, but she commanded two Chargers for us and here we are in less than a week.”

For the first time, the Sun King spoke, “And the Savior can command all machines?”

Varl shrugged again. “I can't say all machines, your Radiance, but she snuck up on the two we arrived riding and commanded them. That's how we got back here.” He sighed and gestured to the west. “She spoke with Sylens and then went West.”

“We'll catch up with her,” Travis assured the young man.

“I'm more concerned with this 'Slither Fang',” Nakoa declared. “Your Radiance, do your Carja Scholars keep records of such things?”

The Sun King nodded, but it was Marad who spoke as he snapped his fingers at one of the soldiers by the door. The solider immediately took to his heels through it. “We do indeed, worthy Nora. I'll have someone from the Hunter's Lodge here shortly with what we know of it.”

“We offered the Savior a full escort to the Embassy,” Avad the Sun King declared sadly. “It was, in fact, our intention to accompany the Savior at least as far as Sunfall, but...” he trailed off, lost in his own thoughts.

“She thought we would slow her down,” Varl completed with some rancor. A melancholy air settled over the group and they ate in silence for a time. The feast was quite extensive in it's fare, with an entire roasted turkey, apples, grapes and other fruit, along side salads of greens and vegetables from the gardens below the city with surprising variation and all roasted and prepared to perfection. Finally, there came a knock at the door heralding the return of the guard and an older man not in scholars robes, but dressed in armored clothing, similar to what the Nora wore, but with the precise refinement of the Carja. Trailing after him was a youth, laboring with a massive tome the size of his torso.

The older man stopped before the table and bowed to the Sun King who evidently knew him on sight. “Welcome, Hawk Ligan of the Hunter's Lodge,” Avad told him. “Sit at my table and eat your fill.”

“The honor is entirely mine, Your Radiance,” Ligan replied with a somewhat stiff bow that spoke of old joints complaining over a misspent youth. “I am informed the Sun King's guests request enlightenment about a newer machine? I have brought the King's List of Machines to shine the light of knowledge for them.” He opened the book the youth carried to a marked place and used him as an intelligent pedestal to walk about the table so all could see the drawing.

“The Slither Fang, guests of his Radiance! A terrible machine of the Hunter Killer type. A full twenty four steps long, with a maw that can swallow a man whole, when it isn't spitting a particularly strong acid that can kill a man and reduce him to a puddle of blood and viscera with a single blast. It travels quickly underground, digging a tunnel the size that a full grown man can walk upright in. This is not a machine for the new to hunting to attempt. My advice to your noble guests is that if they see one, they give it a wide berth.”

“No shit!” rumbled Buck as he saw the rendering. “Kind of a sick cross between a King Cobra and a rattle snake!”

“Taken to the usual obscene scale,” Doc added a shudder.

Buck caught Travis' eye when he saw the picture. “What do you think, boss? Fifty, sixty feet?”

“With this figure for scale? Easily,” Travis replied.

To Hawk Ligan, Doc asked, “Does this thing have any weak spots? Some kind of leverage we can have if we can't give it wide berth?”

Ligan rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “The acid sacks are noted in green on the drawing and can be pierced by most arrows. This will douse the machine in it's own Metal Bite acid and remove the spitting attack, but be weary! The sack is under considerable pressure and will burst with some force.”

“Here's hoping it doesn't come to that,” Travis muttered softly to himself.

September 23th, 3040

Three days of hard riding and cold camps in the wilderness just long enough to let the Striders recharge their Blaze canisters, finally brought the group to a high mesa overlooking a narrow canyon running out of the Pine Valley mountains along what had been called the Virgin River. “Look at that,” whispered Nakoa in awe of what she saw. The mountains parted as a curtain to reveal a narrow valley through which ran a creek or stream desperately intent on becoming a river. The Sun was setting down the mouth of the valley that ran in an ambling due west direction, which made it's significance to the Carja obvious.

On this edge of the bluff where they stood was a stone dwelling with a guard wall to keep machines out of the courtyard. Just beyond it, anchored into the building was a pair of massive iron chains that ran down into valley to a small promontory upon which sat a matching domicile at it's base. Next to the dwelling was a platform that hung from the chains with a complicated cog and gear system that appeared to be hand cranked so the platform could ride down the chain like a cable car.

“There's no way,” Olara swore after a single glance at the contraption.

Buck shrugged expressively as he leaned over his Strider's neck. “Either ride or climb,” he declared pragmatically. “Riding lets us keep the Striders.”

The door into the stone house opened, revealing a round faced, somewhat rotund man of east Asian ethnicity. He wore the metal fastened to leather armor in the style favored by the Oseram, in his case strips of leather with iron rings sewn to it, which were then gathered into a bib or apron, then held in place by a wide leather belt with a much larger ring over his stomach. It looked like a weightlifters or a wrestling champion's belt. A set of leather sewn to thick cloth protected his shoulders and outer arms down to his hands. He blinked in surprise to see the strangers on his doorstep. “Sparks from steel!” he swore, with a smile slowly spreading across his face. “Does everybody ride machines now?”

“You've seen a machine rider before?” Nakoa demanded.

“That I have!” he answered quickly with a gesture at her. “And a Nora as well! Took her down myself, a couple of hours ago. You kin of hers?”

“Aloy came through here?” Nakoa demanded. Travis shared a wink with Varl.

“Told you we'd catch up,” he declared then, turned back to the Oseram. “No,” Travis informed him. “We're not kin of Aloy. I'm Colonel Travis Murray, and my tribe are called the AmSci.”

“I'm Karhn,” the Oseram declared, then his eyes got wide and he pointed back at Travis. “I've heard of your people! The Captain of the Vanguard, uh, Erend is his name, he told me about how you defended Meridian.” The man drew up short and leaned in to whisper, “Are you really Ancients?”

Travis dismounted Black Jack and chuckled, holding out a hand the other shook vigorously. “We are,” he admitted, then gestured at the gondola behind Karhn. “Does this thing actually work?”

“Oh, sure,” Karhn bragged with a dismissive gesture. “I've been the Chain Lift Keeper for five winters now. People and supplies go into the Daunt, shards, minerals and just about everything else comes out. Why, it was the Chain Lift that kept the wild Tenakth from invading further east!”

Travis nodded thoughtfully. Turning back to his group, he declared, “Alright, we'll probably need to take the Striders down one at a time. I'll go down first with Black Jack to hold the landing, then...”

“Oh, I'm sorry,” Karhn interrupted, “I can't take you down.”

“Why not?” Travis demanded.

Karhn walked over to the edge of the platform, a platform without a railing and far too close to the edge for Travis' liking. He encompassed the entire valley with his gesture. “The Daunt,” he proclaimed. “The whole valley, is infested with a new machine. They're called Bristlebacks, nasty things, huge, angry, acid...” he gave a dismissive gesture. “Weird thing is they're not native to the Daunt, but an entire herd of them just showed up from somewhere yesterday. I'm under strict instructions not to let anyone down until they're dealt with. Until I hear the whistle blow down in Chainscrape it's all clear.”

“What's a Chainscrape?” Travis demanded. Karhn pointed with a gloved hand at a settlement halfway down the valley with a massive, circular dome of a building at it's center. Travis pulled on his chin as he thought, then turned back to the Oseram and declared, “You just said you took Aloy down a couple of hours ago.”

“I...uh...well...”

“Karhn,” Travis interrupted, with a friendly grip on his shoulder. “Let's not let our time together turn ugly. We're chasing down a threat to all life on this planet.” He caught the other man's eye to emphasize again, “All life. I couldn't care less about Bristlebacks or whistles from Chainscrape. Ok?”

Karhn's eyes darted from Travis to the rest of the group whereupon Buck cracked his knuckles loudly. “Well, it's your funeral, I guess.” Murray dug into his pocket and handed a small coin to the Keeper. “What's this?”

“A United States of America quarter dollar,” Travis told him with a smile. “The Ferryman is worth his toll.”

“What's a United States of America?”

Travis smiled at him. “You're standing in it. A thousand years ago, this land was called Utah, it was a state, of fifty others, that made up the USA. And that was the coin of the realm, so to speak.” Karhn's eyes went huge.

“A real coin of the Ancients?”

“Keep it under your hat,” Travis advised him. He walked over to the lift and raised the gate to step onto it. “Black Jack,” he called and pointed, causing the Strider to docilely walk behind him onto the lift and stand still.

“You're not going anywhere without me,” Nakoa declared as she slid off her Strider's back and joined him on the lift, Snow Flake behind her. “Will this hold two Striders weight?”

“Seems to,” Karhn replied as he closed the gate, and maned the crank. “Going down.” With a groan and rattle of gears, the gondola began it's decent, dangling between the two chains with a set of gears on a car on each that was attached to a bundle of massive wooden beams that came down and became both the housing of the gears and handle the Oseram cranked as well as the platform they stood on. Nakoa watched the man at work for a moment, then, finally satisfied they weren't about to plummet to their deaths, she leaned up against her husband and sighed.

“It's a beautiful view, isn't it?” Travis asked her as the land slowly rose to meet them.

“Have you been here before?” Nakoa asked him. “In the Ancient Time?”

Travis nodded thoughtfully, then removed his binoculars from their protective case. “Son of a bitch,” he whispered as he handed her the glasses and pointed. She looked through them, finding a skeleton of a stone and log building only just standing on the south bank of the creek. “That's Zion Lodge,” he informed her. “Or, what's left of it. I stayed there once on a leave from Cheyenne Mountain. This whole area was once called Zion National Park.”

“It looks like it was once a very beautiful place,” she told him, used to these little bouts of nostalgia that went with being the wife of a man over a thousand years her senior.

“Zion?” asked Karhn. “Odd word. What does it mean?”

“It refers to ancient kingdom,” Travis told him. “Long before even my time, so three or four thousand years ago, and thousands of miles to the east, over the Atlantic Ocean.”

The man grunted from his labor of turning the crank. “Today is full of surprises!”

“I just hope we can catch up with Aloy and get safe passage through this 'embassy.'”

Karhn laughed a strained laugh. “That might be a problem.”

“How's that?” demanded Nakoa.

“I brought the Sun Priest and his party down yesterday,” Karhn informed her. “He's the man supposed to run the Embassy, but he was still at the landing when I brought down the Savior a few hours ago. Pompous git if you ask me.” The car finally arrived at the landing, but the lower house was deserted, with only a few barrels and bags at what was likely some kind of custom's house. Karhn hesitantly shied around the Striders and raised the rail so that they could exit. “Now, you'll want to be careful,” he cautioned them. “Normally there would be soldiers here, but they've been pulled back to Chainscrape since the work stoppage.”

Travis pulled his AR15 around into a patrol low ready carry. “We'll be fine,” he assured the Keeper. “Black Jack, out and graze. Perimeter fifteen meters.”

The Strider gave an exaggerated nod and filed out and through the open gate to begin grazing beyond it. “Snow Flake, you too,” Nakoa ordered. Once the car was empty the Keeper returned to his crank and it began to rise again.

“He's going to get a heck of a workout today,” Travis opined as he watched the car ascend the chain.

“Honey,” Nakoa called, standing by the side of the customs house that had a piece of parchment affixed to it. “Look at this.”

Travis walked over, keying on his Focus as he did so. Instantly, the device at his temple 'read' the Carja glyphs and then holographically laid over them the translation in English. “By mandate, mandate he says!” Travis chuckled. “By mandate of Commander Nozar,” he continued. “All residents of the Daunt are herewith informed of the following:” He shared a glance with his wife and continued to read.

“The gates between Barren Light and No Man's Land are hereby ordered shut and sealed in expectation of the imminent Embassy. None are allowed passage either way until further notice. No exception will be made, regardless of clan, house or tribe. Based on previous grievances and misunderstandings, let it be clear that no exceptions will be made for the Oseram either. Any outstanding arrangements made pertaining to passage are hereby declared postponed or void, depending on the nature and timing of the arrangement. No Exceptions will be made. Again, to eliminate any doubts should they remain: ALL OF THE ABOVE PERTAINS TO THE OSERAM REGARDLESS OF CIRCUMSTANCES, EXCUSES, OR SO-CALLED BINDING CONTRACTS! Any complaints and/or restitution (if at all applicable) can be addressed to Captain Lawan, my second-in-command. Signed in the Light of the Sun, Nozar Arin Khuvaman, Commander of Barren Light.” Travis chuckled to himself. “Sounds like a charming fellow.”

“Sounds like a typical Carja to me,” Nakoa opined.

Travis tapped his Focus to make the translation disappear, and smiled at his wife. “I'm sure. Once we get everybody down, as late in the day as it is, we'll probably stay the night in this 'Chainscrape' and head into Barren Light in the morning.”

“That's what I love about you, darling,” Nakoa told him returning his smile. “Your sunny optimism!”