Chapter 4.7 : Under Another Roof

Chapter 4.7 : Under Another Roof

The hours following the Market pass without incident. After Sera leaves them at the Cutter with her final request to let her know if the Alejia reach out, the crew settles back into the uncomfortable routine that has defined much of their time on Marinagua: waiting while trying not to appear as though they are waiting.

The Market visit gives them plenty to occupy themselves with. Recordings are reviewed and purchases examined. Wilbur's memory stone receives more attention than its modest value probably deserves, if only because the simple exchange surrounding it now seems to carry more meaning than anyone recognized at the time. Chaala works through the language samples and observations gathered during the visit, comparing phrases, gestures, and sequences of exchange against the translation matrix. Doctor Shone reviews what little cultural information they possess concerning medicine, injury, and the Alejia reaction to medical insignia. Virel considers the layers of courtesy and obligation they witnessed, while JEEM quietly compiles everyone's observations and searches for patterns between them.

Progress is slow, but not absent. Several Alejia terms previously treated by the translator as variations of guest, custody, or protection begin to separate into distinct concepts. The words are not interchangeable. One describes a visitor received for a short period, another suggests someone held by authority, while a third is considerably more difficult. The closest Anglic interpretation the translation system produces is:

A person whose name is carried beneath another roof.

Even that, Chaala suspects, is incomplete. The meaning appears to extend beyond simple hospitality. The person providing the roof assumes some responsibility for the individual beneath it: their safety, their conduct, and perhaps even the consequences of their actions. In return, the sheltered individual accepts restrictions that remain frustratingly unclear.

It offers a possible explanation for the disappearance of Dominicus and the Harrier crew from the signal environment. Their communicators may not have been taken from prisoners; they may have surrendered them when they entered another group's protection. The thought does little to make anyone more comfortable.

The first day after the Market passes without contact from the Nine Tribes.
Captain Verik checks once in the afternoon. There has been no message and no indication at the checkpoint that one is expected. Before closing the channel he adds, almost casually, "No one has told us to prepare you to leave." Chaala lets the statement sit for a moment before Verik gives the faintest shrug. "On Marinagua, Captain, sometimes the absence of a door closing is the best news available."

Outside the Cutter, the Xá'kai presence continues much as before. Observers remain near the landing field, traffic passes through the checkpoint, and the distant city moves through its own rhythms, indifferent to the anxiety aboard the Scout cutter. Only Virel notices that one of the familiar observers has been replaced. The newcomer is older, his clothing carrying more markers than the younger Alejia who previously held the position, with several small witness-tags hanging from the upper portion of his staff. He does nothing unusual. He simply watches.

The second day begins much the same way, with no message, no summons, and no explanation. By midday, the waiting has become its own form of pressure, and JEEM eventually poses the question that everyone aboard has been circling. "What is the plan if they do not answer?" The question is directed to Chaala, but the silence that follows belongs to the entire crew.

Before anyone can answer, the Cutter receives a short communication from Verik. His voice is calm, but there is an unmistakable alertness beneath it. "Captain. You have visitors at the checkpoint." A brief pause follows before he adds, "A formal party."

By the time Chaala and the others reach the edge of the Cutter's access area, the Alejia delegation has already passed through the Xá'kai checkpoint. Seváhn of the Blue Cuff walks at its head, immediately recognizable by the blue cuff visible beneath the layers of his clothing. Two Xá'kai witnesses accompany him, both carrying staffs marked with small hanging tags. Between them walks an Alejia the crew has not met before.

He is dressed in pale sky-blue robes, simple in cut but carefully arranged. A narrow silver ceremonial spear rests upright in one hand, several rings and small fittings line one ear, and unlike Seváhn, he studies the humans openly as they approach. Seváhn stops at a respectful distance, his attention settling first on Chaala and then briefly on Virel. He speaks in Alejia and the translators begin processing, but before the system can complete the first sentence,....
the stranger beside him speaks in fluent Anglic.
"Captain Chaala Angushlii."

The pronunciation is careful but natural. There is none of the mechanical hesitation of the translator and little of the distortion the crew has grown accustomed to hearing from Alejia attempts at their language. For several seconds no one responds, and the Alejia inclines his head.

"I am Ziyótl Toha'kai, of the Zahá'to." He touches two fingers lightly against the shaft of the silver spear. "For this accounting, I speak under knot."

A small pause follows, his expression suggesting that he is searching for an exact equivalence. "Your language names such things poorly." There is the faintest trace of humor in his voice as he adds, "Envoy is near enough."

Seváhn says something quietly in Alejia. Ziyótl listens, then turns back to Chaala. "Seváhn of the Blue Cuff asks that I speak the answer carried from the accounting." The humor disappears from his expression. "Your petition has been heard."

No one moves as Ziyótl continues. "You asked for sight. Sight will be given." His eyes remain on Chaala before he adds, "Claim has not been given." Chaala does not need the translator to tell her that the distinction matters.

Ziyótl explains that four members of the crew may attend. They will travel under Xá'kai witness and must accept the route chosen for them. Weapons are not permitted, nor clothing that presents the appearance of preparation for violence. Active transmitters, navigational recording devices, drones, and independent sensor packages must remain behind. Medical equipment may be carried after inspection, and Doctor Shone receives a brief glance when Ziyótl says this.

The meeting will occur the following day, and the person they have asked to see will be present: Silvia Dominicus. The name changes the air around the Cutter. Voss takes a half-step forward before stopping himself. Ziyótl notices, and so does Seváhn, though neither comments.

Instead, Seváhn speaks again, this time delivering a longer statement.
Ziyótl's expression shifts slightly as he listens, and when the Alejia finishes, the envoy turns toward Chaala. "They ask that one question be answered before the meeting."

He pauses before continuing. "If the one you seek says she entered beneath the roof willingly, will you hear her answer?"

Virel thinks about the phrasing as it settles in his mind instead, turning over itself with quiet insistence: entered willingly, not remains. The distinction is small in sound but not in meaning. One speaks to the past, the other to the present—to consent that may have changed and to a choice that may no longer be a choice.

Virel has heard questions constructed this way before. What catches his attention is Ziyótl. The envoy's Anglic is exceptional and his translation appears exact, yet the younger Alejia delivered the question as given, cleanly and without examining the assumption contained inside it.

The shape of the question forms in Virel's mind, precise and necessary. If they only asked how Dominicus came beneath the roof, then they have not asked whether she wishes to remain there.

And if they have not asked, someone must.

After the market visit Victor spent the rest of the day writing about the behavioural idiosyncrasies of Alejia. The market visit was highly informative but it brought more questions than answers. If behavioral boundaries and cues played such a big role in this culture instead of facial expressions or voice pitch, then is emotions shown rather than heard? What happens during heightened stress conditions? Do Alejia use different type of communication when speed is of the essence? He would never say it aloud but now he was more interested to see how Alejian soldiers perform in action.

Apart from the research on Alejian, he also inspected the grain cakes for their composition. He tried to identify the ingredients and understand whether it would hamper human physiology in any way. His musings about Alejian behaviour also gave him a worried impression on how medical experts functioned in Alejian society. Was decorum more important than treatment? He wanted to see some Alejian doctors in action.

When the news of visitors coming was received, he immediately got alert and waited to see what was being conveyed. After all the information was passed by this new envoy, Ziyótl, Victor simply waited for the Captain and Virel to respond. But he already started making a mental list of the things he would carry when they would travel to finally meet Dominicus.

Dr. Shone’s Observations

1. Alejia Behavioral Idiosyncrasies

Dr. Shone’s observations lead him to believe that Alejia emotional expression is not absent, but is distributed across a broader range of physical behaviors than humans normally rely upon. During the Market visit, changes in posture, personal spacing, the angle at which an individual presented the body, the handling of staffs or carried objects, and the timing of responses appeared to convey information that humans would more commonly express through facial movement or tone of voice. In Dr. Shone’s opinion, the Alejia may regard visible control of the body as part of proper communication, making a deliberate change in stance or position more significant than a brief facial reaction.

He does not have enough information to determine whether Alejia facial expressions and vocal pitch are unimportant, culturally suppressed, or simply too subtle for an unfamiliar human observer to interpret. His best assessment is that the crew has been concentrating on the most obvious human communication channels and may therefore be missing signals carried through movement, distance, and changes in behavioral rhythm.

In Dr. Shone’s opinion, there is not enough information to form a reliable theory about Alejia behavior under heightened stress. The Market provided examples of routine social interaction rather than fear, anger, injury, or immediate danger. His best guess is that extreme stress would make their physical cues more pronounced or cause established behavioral boundaries to break down. Such a breakdown might itself be the Alejia equivalent of a raised voice, visible panic, or loss of emotional control.

There is also insufficient evidence to determine how Alejia communicate when speed is more important than decorum. Dr. Shone’s best guess is that soldiers, emergency workers, and medical personnel would rely on shortened phrases, standardized gestures, rehearsed movements, or clearly defined chains of authority. He cannot yet determine whether this would represent a separate form of communication or merely a faster and more disciplined version of the same behavioral system observed in the Market.

Dr. Shone cannot form a valid opinion regarding Alejia soldiers in action without direct observation. The disciplined control seen among the Xá’kai suggests that their soldiers may communicate effectively through positioning and practiced physical cues, but this remains an unsupported possibility rather than a conclusion.

2. Inspection of the Grain Cakes and Other Alejia Food

Dr. Shone’s inspection of the grain cakes leads him to believe that they are primarily composed of a processed starch or cereal analogue combined with a small quantity of plant oil or rendered fat. Their texture and odor suggest that the ingredients were ground, mixed with water, and cooked on a heated surface. He can identify possible traces of salt, mineral seasoning, and a mildly fermented ingredient, but he cannot reliably identify the native plant species without a proper biochemical database or laboratory comparison.

The grain cakes show no obvious signs of spoilage, dangerous chemical contamination, or active microbial growth. Based on their preparation and composition, Dr. Shone considers them unlikely to cause immediate harm to a healthy human when consumed in modest quantities. Cooking would also have reduced the risk from many native microorganisms and biological contaminants.

He cannot confirm that the cakes are completely safe. Unknown proteins could produce an allergic response, and native compounds harmless to Alejia physiology might affect humans differently. Dr. Shone’s opinion is that a small initial portion would present a low but not nonexistent medical risk. He would recommend retaining a sample and monitoring anyone who consumes one for gastrointestinal distress, skin reactions, respiratory symptoms, altered consciousness, or other unexpected effects.

The other procured Alejia foods require greater caution. Fermented pastes, uncooked plant material, and foods containing active native microorganisms present more uncertainty than the cooked grain cakes. Dr. Shone does not have enough information to declare those foods safe for human consumption. His best assessment is that fully cooked, low-moisture foods are presently the least hazardous Alejia food products available to the crew.

3. Recognition of Dr. Shone as a Physician

Dr. Shone’s observations since landing, particularly during the Market visit, lead him to believe that the Alejia delegation identified him as a medical professional before Ziyótl explained that inspected medical equipment would be permitted. The brief attention directed toward him appeared deliberate rather than incidental. His equipment, visible insignia, and conduct during initial interactions may have been sufficient for them to infer his role.

The fact that medical equipment was specifically addressed suggests that the Alejia anticipated the crew would bring a physician to the meeting with Dominicus. In Dr. Shone’s opinion, this indicates that they understand the purpose of a medical examination and are prepared to permit one within defined limits. It may also mean that Dominicus’s physical condition is expected to become part of the witnessed encounter.

There is not enough information to determine whether Alejia society grants physicians special status, regards them with suspicion, or places them under particular obligations. The Alejia may simply recognize medical personnel as functional specialists. Dr. Shone’s best assessment is that his role has been acknowledged as distinct from that of the negotiators and other crew members, but the meaning of that distinction remains unknown.

The Alejia reaction does not yet provide enough evidence to determine whether decorum takes precedence over emergency treatment in their medical practices. However, the willingness to permit inspected medical equipment suggests that procedure and treatment are not necessarily in conflict. Dr. Shone’s preliminary opinion is that Alejia medicine may be tightly controlled by protocol, authority, and clearly defined boundaries rather than being delayed for purely ceremonial reasons.

Virel turns to Chaala expectedly waiting for some indication that she will respond or he should do so instead.

"We would certainly hear her answer, but it would not be sufficient to release our obligation to her. We would know more about her obligations to others and theirs to her." Chaala answers, trying to keep her expression neutral.

Ziyótl listens without interrupting. At the mention of Dominicus’s obligations—and the obligations others may hold toward her—his attention sharpens. He turns to Seváhn and renders Chaala’s answer in Alejia, carefully preserving the distinction between hearing Dominicus and releasing the Scouts’ existing claim upon her.

Seváhn’s reply is brief. Ziyótl listens, then faces Chaala again.

"Then you do not refuse her voice, and you do not abandon your obligation."

He adjusts his grip slightly upon the ceremonial spear.

"That answer is accepted. Tomorrow is for sight and hearing. It is not settlement."

Ziyótl pauses, choosing his next words with greater care.

"You may ask what obligations she accepted, what remains upon her, and what is owed to her. The answers may be carried into the accounting, but they will not be decided at the meeting."

His gaze moves briefly from Chaala to Virel before returning to the acting captain.

"Four may come. Doctor Shone may carry inspected medical equipment. We will return after first light to conduct you beneath witness."

Seváhn inclines his head, confirming the arrangement without adding anything further.

Day Three - The Journey to Sight

The Alejia return shortly after first light.

The delegation is visible before it reaches the Cutter, advancing through the Xá’kai checkpoint in the same restrained formation as the day before. Seváhn of the Blue Cuff walks at the front with two staff-bearing witnesses. Ziyótl Toha’kai follows just behind him, the narrow silver spear of the Speaker Under Knot resting upright against one shoulder. Four additional Xá’kai accompany them, their clothing practical and unadorned compared with the robes and markers worn by the others. None openly display firearms, though each carries equipment whose purpose is not immediately apparent.

Ziyótl stops outside the Cutter’s established access boundary and waits for the selected members of the human delegation to emerge. His attention passes across each of them in turn, lingering briefly on Doctor Shone’s medical case before returning to Chaala.

"Good morning, Captain Angushlii. The road has been opened for sight."

He inclines his head toward the checkpoint.

"What you carry must first be seen. What is permitted will travel with you. What is not permitted will remain here beneath your own people’s keeping."

The wording is courteous, but the conditions have not changed. The Alejia have come to conduct the delegation, not to negotiate the arrangements again.

The walk from the Cutter to the checkpoint is not long, but the formality surrounding it makes the distance feel greater. The Xá’kai do not crowd the party or place hands upon anyone. Two walk ahead, two behind, and the witnesses remain far enough to observe the whole group. The formation leaves the visitors room to move while making it equally clear where they are expected to go.

The checkpoint itself has been altered since the Market visit. A second barrier has been erected behind the familiar outer station, creating a narrow inspection court enclosed on three sides by pale fabric screens stretched between heavy posts. The screens block the landing field from view without forming a permanent structure. A long, waist-high table stands in the center beneath a layered canopy. Its surface is divided into marked sections, each bearing simple geometric symbols rather than written instructions.

An older Xá’kai waits behind the table. Several witness-tags hang from his staff, and a younger assistant stands beside him carrying flat trays, woven sleeves, and small clay seals. Neither begins searching the visitors. Instead, Ziyótl steps to one side of the table and addresses the delegation.

"Each object will be placed where it can be seen and named. Clothing worn upon the body need not be removed unless it contains machinery, hidden compartments, armor, or a weapon. Doctor Shone’s medical instruments will be examined separately."

His gaze moves across the delegation.

"Nothing will be taken without being named. Nothing refused will pass beyond this place."

The Xá’kai assistant places four empty trays upon the table. A fifth, lined with clean pale cloth, is set aside for Doctor Shone’s equipment. Beside them, the older witness positions a small container intended for anything that must remain behind.

Ziyótl rests both hands lightly upon the silver spear and waits.

Victor moved with others while trying to hold his sling bag full of medical equipments as casually as possible. He didn't like this particular situation where even the medical professional carried diplomatic risks. He became more aware when a separate section was given for his equipments. Taking out his bag, he started arranging the things that he carried. He kept his mobile comm, personal medscanner, a trauma pack, a field surgical kit and a medikit all neatly arranged in equidistance on the clean clothed tray. He further opened his medikit to place the antibiotics, oral supplements, protein bars, blood transfusion pack, cogulants, bandages, painkiller sprays, burn care strips, disinfectants and other small instruments supplied in the pack. Then he eyed the Captain and others once and silently waited for the verdict of the Alejia observers.

Chaala will wear standard issue gear(the ironhand armored polos and pant and the field jacket and boots). The experienced eye will recognize it as Scout/Ironhand partnership issue, but with full scout insignia noting her rank and service history. She will have her PRIS glasses and the mobile comm they are integrated with as well as a commdot for additional hands free communication, since she won't always be wearing the glasses. Pouches with her basic medkit, a small bit of food and three of her marker beacons. She leaves out her Starman Deluxe, but keeps the pouch on the belt.

Virel deliberately left his knife and sheath aboard the Cutter.

He dressed in plain, neutral field clothing with no visible armor, technical equipment, or anything that might seem out of place. There was nothing on him that suggested force, concealment, or preparation for anything beyond walking the path they have been given.

Bohdie dresses smartly, in personal semiformal clothing (no insignia of any kind). He walks easily to the table for inspection. His personal belongings are simple. He carries a small, leather pouch with a sheath with a Small Torch (UV/white light penlight), his Micro-IFAK and his Starman Deluxe. He slides the pouch off his belt and places it in his tray. In addition, he removes and places his Wristwatch (Luminox RECON Point Man 8820 Heritage analog) in the tray as well. From a breast pocket, he removes a simple digital audiovisual recorder (a pen-like item (It does actually write)) and a small notebook of blank paper which he also places in the tray. Finally, he takes a small pouch out with some freeze-dried fruit as a personal offering. When asked, he will identify each item.

When asked to name the items, he will show and tell. Pulling the torch out, he will say, "The pouch contains a small penlight, in case something needs to be examined under additional lighting."

Opening the first cover, he draws out the small kit. "This is my personal First Aid kit, containing just a few quick medical items In case of injury or incapacitation. I carry it as an adjunct to Dr. Shone’s medical kit."


Opening the second cover, he draws out his Starman Deluxe. "As force of habit, I carry a multitool for those unforeseen moments when a tool might be needed that I otherwise would not have." (If asked, he will reiterate that it is a tool, not a weapon - a characterization he will not make first.)

Picking up his watch, he says, "This is a simple timekeeping device. It does nothing more or less than measuring the passage of time."

Picking up the recorder/pen and notebook, "This stylus is for marking in this book. It also contains a simple digital audiovisual recorder, switched on and off by this recessed rocker switch."

As he names and explains each item, he picks it up, shows each item in multiple angles, demonstrates any switches or less obvious features, then places it back in the tray for further inspection. He makes no fuss over anything which is deemed to be left behind.

The Inspection

The older Xá’kai witness begins with Doctor Shone’s tray. He studies the careful arrangement before indicating each object in turn, allowing Victor to name its purpose through Ziyótl. The Alejia inspection instruments are simple by comparison with the equipment before them. They can identify active emissions, obvious electrical activity, metal edges, and certain chemical compounds, but they cannot meaningfully analyze the internal workings of devices several technological generations beyond their own.

Doctor Shone’s mobile comm presents the first clear problem because Victor identifies it openly as a communications device. Ziyótl raises one hand before the refusal can be interpreted as an accusation.

"There is no fault in carrying it here, Doctor Shone. You have named its purpose before witness. Because it can speak beyond this place, it cannot travel farther."

He indicates the secured storage container positioned on the human side of the checkpoint.

"It will remain beneath seal and be returned when you return."

The remainder of Victor’s equipment is accepted as medical material. The personal medscanner is powered and demonstrated, though the Xá’kai can understand little beyond the readings Victor explains. The trauma pack, surgical kit, medikit, transfusion supplies, pharmaceuticals, dressings, disinfectants, food supplements, and smaller instruments are inspected for obvious concealed weapons or active communications functions, but none are refused.

The surgical instruments draw attention because of their sharpened edges, while the painkillers and other medicines prompt questions about their effects. Ziyótl accepts Victor’s explanations and renders them carefully for the witnesses.

"The instruments of a physician may cut without being carried as weapons. The medicines may alter the body without being carried to control another’s will. Their purpose has been named."

Small clay seals are attached to the handles of the medical cases, not to restrict their use but to show that the equipment was inspected and accepted beneath witness. Victor may open and use the kits as medical need requires.

Chaala’s turn takes longer because she carries several objects the Alejia cannot easily categorize. Her clothing is examined through touch and visual inspection, but the protective fibers and advanced construction do not resemble the rigid plates, load-bearing carriers, or obvious defensive garments known to the Xá’kai. To them, it appears to be durable offworld field clothing bearing Scout and Ironhand insignia. No objection is raised.

The PRIS glasses are examined next. Their systems are powered down, and the Alejia detector produces no meaningful response. The lenses appear unusual but not visibly different from advanced corrective or protective eyewear. The integrated mobile comm and commdot remain silent, their components too small and sophisticated for the Xá’kai equipment to distinguish from the other electronics built into the glasses and clothing.

The three marker beacons receive only a brief examination. Powered down, they present no active signal and appear to be small sealed technical devices whose exact functions cannot be determined. The inspectors turn each one over, compare it against their detector, and return it to Chaala’s tray. Her basic medkit and food pass without concern, while the empty Starman pouch receives only a brief glance.

Virel’s inspection is completed quickly. The Xá’kai check the seams of his clothing, the soles of his footwear, and the ordinary locations where weapons or devices might be carried. His deliberate simplicity leaves little for them to examine. Nothing is produced, nothing activates their instruments, and nothing requires further explanation.

Bohdie’s careful presentation satisfies the form of the inspection. The small torch is demonstrated in both white and ultraviolet light and returned to the tray. His Micro-IFAK is opened, compared with Doctor Shone’s larger medical supplies, and accepted without restriction. The analog wristwatch is likewise approved after Bohdie demonstrates that it measures only the passage of time. The blank notebook causes no concern.

The Starman Deluxe receives more attention. Bohdie demonstrates its various tools and explains its ordinary purpose, but when the knife blade is extended, the older witness raises his staff slightly. Ziyótl listens to the resulting exchange before addressing Bohdie.

"They accept that this is carried as a tool. They also see that one part may be used to cut flesh."

His tone remains calm and without accusation.

"It may pass if you place your word beneath witness that the blade will not be used offensively during the journey or meeting."

The younger Xá’kai assistant places a thin clay tablet upon the table. Its surface is covered with several shallow geometric impressions. Ziyótl explains that Bohdie need not sign an Alejia name or understand the written statement. The witness will record the object, its blade, the restriction placed upon it, and Bohdie’s acceptance. Bohdie is asked to press his thumb into a prepared section of soft clay while speaking his agreement aloud.

Once he does so, the older witness presses the end of his staff into the tablet beside Bohdie’s mark. The clay is then placed inside a rigid sleeve to dry.

"Your word is now carried with the tool," Ziyótl says. "It may travel."

The final question concerns the pen-like stylus. Bohdie’s honesty about its recessed switch and audiovisual recording function prevents any misunderstanding. The older witness indicates the secure storage container as soon as the function is translated.

Ziyótl explains the decision.

"It may write, but it may also preserve sight and speech. Recording devices were named among the things that could not travel."

He gestures toward the container.

"It will remain here and be returned with Doctor Shone’s communicator. Nothing has been violated because you declared it before passing the boundary."

A plain Alejia writing stylus is placed beside Bohdie’s notebook so that he may still take written notes. His freeze-dried fruit is opened, examined, and returned, though Ziyótl offers a quiet warning.

"The food may travel. Do not present it as a gift until you ask me. A gift offered at the wrong moment may be received as payment, apology, claim, or obligation."

Doctor Shone’s communicator and Bohdie’s recording stylus are wrapped separately and placed inside the rigid storage chest. Each owner watches as the items are listed through Ziyótl. The lid is closed, mechanically secured, and covered by a clay seal impressed by the Xá’kai witness. The chest remains on the Cutter side of the checkpoint beneath the custody of the crew who remain behind.

The accepted equipment is returned to its owners. Small clay inspection seals hang from the handles of Doctor Shone’s medical cases and Bohdie’s Micro-IFAK. Bohdie’s Starman Deluxe is returned with the witnessed tablet recording his restriction. Chaala’s equipment is handed back without further comment, its more sophisticated capabilities remaining beyond the inspectors’ ability to identify while powered down.

When the last object has been accounted for, the older Xá’kai witness steps back and inclines his head toward Ziyótl.

The envoy turns to the four visitors.

"The inspection is complete. What has been refused remains yours. What has been permitted now travels beneath witness."

Behind him, the rear fabric screen is drawn aside, revealing the enclosed Alejia transport waiting beyond the second barrier.

Transport to the meeting

When the inspection is complete, the rear fabric screen is drawn aside, revealing a vehicle waiting beyond the second barrier.

The transport is long and low, supported by eight broad wheels whose surfaces are formed from overlapping flexible plates rather than conventional tires. Its exterior is the same muted clay-grey seen on many Alejia vehicles around Balac Pontli, but its passenger compartment is fully enclosed. Narrow windows run along either side, each covered from within by angled shutters that admit light while preventing a clear view outside. The rear doors stand open, revealing two facing benches and handholds fixed along the walls and ceiling.

No weapons racks or restraints are visible. There is also no obvious means for the passengers to open the doors from within.

Ziyótl gestures toward the entrance.

"From this point, the road is held by those granting sight. You will not be told where the meeting takes place. You will be returned by the same authority that carries you there."

His tone remains polite and matter-of-fact.

"This protects the roof beneath which the meeting is permitted. It is not a judgment against you."

Seváhn enters first and takes a position near the forward bulkhead. One Xá’kai witness sits beside him while the other remains close to the rear door. Ziyótl waits until the human delegation is aboard before entering last. The doors close behind him with a heavy mechanical engagement, shutting out the checkpoint and most of the morning light.

The transport begins moving almost immediately.

At first, the route seems familiar. The vehicle rolls over the compacted surface near the landing field, turns through the outer approach, and enters streets whose sounds resemble those heard during the Market journey: wheels over fitted stone, scattered voices, handcarts being moved aside, and the occasional hollow resonance of passing beneath an overhead structure. Through the shutters, the passengers catch only fragments—sections of plastered wall, hanging cloth, the lower portions of buildings, and brief flashes of sky.

After several minutes, the vehicle makes its first unexpected turn. It slows, doubles back, and enters a narrower route where the wheel noise changes from stone to packed earth. The turns come too frequently to preserve a reliable sense of direction. Some are broad and natural; others are unnecessarily sharp, as though the driver is deliberately folding the route back across itself.

The transport stops inside an enclosed court.

The doors open onto high walls and a roof of interlaced screens. There is no view of the surrounding district. The delegation is directed across less than twenty meters of open ground into a second vehicle of nearly identical design. The transfer is conducted without urgency, but the witnesses change positions and two of the Xá’kai escorts remain behind. New escorts take their places without introduction.

Ziyótl stays with the party.

The second transport has no windows at all.

Its interior is illuminated by narrow strips set into the ceiling, and the air carries a faint smell of dust, oil, and dried vegetation. Once the doors close, movement can only be judged through acceleration, turns, changes in road texture, and the low vibration passing through the benches. The vehicle climbs for a time, descends more sharply, then follows a level route broken by repeated stops. At several points other vehicles can be heard nearby, though whether the transport is moving through a crowded street, a depot, or another controlled compound is impossible to determine.

The journey is not designed merely to prevent the visitors from learning a street address. It denies them a continuous route.

When the second transport finally stops, the party is led through a covered passage whose walls are made from overlapping wooden screens. The passage turns three times within a short distance before opening into another enclosed loading area. Waiting there is a smaller vehicle with a higher passenger compartment and heavy shutters secured across every opening.

There is no discussion of why a third transfer is necessary.

The last stage of the journey is quieter. The surface beneath the wheels becomes smoother and the surrounding sounds diminish. The transport maintains speed for several minutes before slowing through a succession of turns. Once, it halts long enough for a muted exchange to take place outside. Ziyótl listens without comment, his ceremonial spear resting across his knees.

No one aboard is threatened. No one is bound. No demand is made beyond compliance with the route already accepted.

Yet every shutter, transfer, escort change, and unnecessary turn carries the same message.

The Alejia are allowing the delegation to pass through boundaries normally closed to them. They are not opening those boundaries.

At last, the transport descends a shallow incline and comes to a stop. The engine quiets, but the doors remain closed. Outside, footsteps approach and a short exchange follows in Alejia. Seváhn answers from the forward compartment.


Ziyótl rises.

"We have reached the place prepared for sight."

He looks across the human delegation, his expression composed but more serious than when the journey began.

"Remember what has been granted. You may see. You may hear. You may ask."

His hand settles around the shaft of the silver spear.

"Nothing is settled here."

The locks disengage from outside.The doors swing outward, admitting cool daylight and the smell of damp stone, smoke, and growing things. Beyond the transport lies a small enclosed courtyard surrounded by high, pale walls. Narrow strips of garden run along their base, planted with dark-leafed shrubs and low red flowers. The only visible exit is the covered passage through which the transport entered, now occupied by two Xá’kai witnesses.

Across the courtyard stands a single-story building of plastered stone and dark timber. Its broad entrance is open, but woven screens prevent any view of the interior. There are no signs identifying the place and no surrounding rooftops visible above the walls. It could be deep inside Balac Pontli or at its outer edge; the journey has left them no reliable way to know.

Seváhn steps down first. Ziyótl follows, then turns toward the human delegation and gestures to the waiting doorway.

"She is inside."

No guards block the entrance, but witnesses stand at every boundary. The meeting place is calm, private, and carefully controlled.

The Alejia have brought them to Dominicus. They have not brought them beyond their reach.