“Hello?”

He clears his throat. “Hi. Ah, it’s Rowan, from the club? Six Feet Underground?”

Noia purses her lips in a smile. “I remember you. Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, ah, I mean. I know it’s early for a Saturday but, ah, I just wanted to apologize if I said – or did – anything offensive or overtly crass last night. I’m blunt on a regular basis – polite on a good day – but my sister warns me my opinions can be a little much with alcohol in me.”

“I see.”

“Oh shit. Sorry, by your reaction I must have said something offending. Please excuse me. My bark is worse than my bite.

“Haha, no, you were alright. After all, I wouldn’t take away your liberty of expression for the false security of my own singular view. I’d end up with an acid backlash and possession of neither.”

There is a long pause during which Noia thinks she has lost the signal but then she hears the low chuckle and she feels heat creep up her neck. Did she integrate his turn of phrase from the night so badly?

“Say, what are you up to this weekend?”

“Hmm, some research probably. I was sent some good links by a friend.”

“Sounds busy. I’ll let you go then. Hey, uhm, have you been in this area long?”

“No, I moved in just recently.”

“Would you be interested in a day excursion? I know a good museum or there’s a fair going on right now if you like those.”

Noia looks up at the cotton clouds and suppresses a laugh. She was relieved she was not the only one who felt a bit awkward in this situation. “Sure. It sounds interesting.”

“Great! Give me a call when you’re free and we’ll work something out.”

“Oh? You’re free on any afternoon?”

“Well, I usually keep company with my sister or a handful of friends but we don’t have a whole lot planned this week.”

“I see. I’ll catch you later then?”

“Definitely! Ah, I hope you have a good day.”

“You too.”

Noia swipes her card at the building entrance, still smiling and shaking her head.

“Miss Noia.” The lobby attendant beckons her over. “Mr. Almira asks that you visit him at your convenience this morning.”

“Has it been long since he called?”

“Only a few minutes, miss.”

“I see. Do I need an escort to get to his rooms?”

“No, miss. He asked that your key be given the same permissions as his.”

Noia blinks. “Oh. Thank you.”

“My pleasure, miss.”

In the elevator Noia taps the railing with an index finger. What could he need so early in the morning?

The door opens to Crevan’s suite and she leans out cautiously. It has an almost identical set up to her rooms and a few more steps shows his suite is made of several floors the way the basement club was hollowed out.

She knocks on the display wall and calls for her host.

“I’ll be right down! Have a seat anywhere!”

Noia starts for the sofas set into the floor and passes the computer station on the way. It seems Crevan had been up for a while doing some work. One side of the curved wide screen is filled with data windows. A brief glance shows them to be weather forecasts, data spreads, and a document on mythology. She is about to take a seat when an icon in the top corner of the available desktop catches her eye. At first glance it seems like ETHR’s logo but the double take shows only the lightning shape of Noia’s singular earring.

“What the…” Why does he already have a special icon with my earring? Does he know where the other one is?

With a glance upstairs and no approaching footsteps heard she advances on the station and selects the icon. It opens a file window with nominations for photos, documents, audio files, and more codes than she can understand. All of the files are password protected but she finds a way to enlarge the thumbnails. They are still too pixelated to make out much but she could tell a lot of them were of the mountains. There was a section of underwater and skydiving shots and a lot of the environment. There are even some of lightning storms and trees that had been struck. Another collection shows children all over the world. Small, grinning faces stared back at her and she feels her own lips curve in response. There are more from inside caves that are much too dark to make out anything of note. A few have portrait shots of men and women dated with a range of years. Noia cannot help a nagging familiar feeling for most of them but she only recognizes Crevan.

She checks the dates for the rest of the photos. They date back all the way to the invention of image capturing devices and then scanned images of painted portraits predate those. Who were all these people? Why were they in a file focused around her earring?

“How was your morning walk?”

Noia gasps and scrambles to close out the window. She turns just as Crevan comes down the last flight of stairs. She flashes him a smile.

“It was refreshing. I’m glad I got to see more parts of the city. I didn’t realize the damage was so extensive.”

He nods, putting his hands on his hips. “Few places escaped any damage from the End Wars. People in power can be sensitive and vicious. There was a lot of swift and vengeful retaliation no matter who fired first.”

“Who did fire first?”

Crevan purses his lips and gestures her towards the sofas while he attends a steaming pot and mugs in the kitchen. “Officially? It depends on where the historical account you read was written and published. Some docments say it was America, some say it was China – a few even bring North Korea and Russia in as an activating factor.”

“But they’re historical publications. Wouldn’t they know by now with research and records?”

“Not necessarily. Even if one country fired first there is a lot of speculation that they were provoked.”

Noia frowns. “Or lead to believe there was an eminent threat.”

Crevan offers her one steaming mug before taking a seat beside her. “You believe motivation matters?”

Noia sniffs the mug and discovers mint tea. “When you have that much power and a responsibility to the lives of millions? Of course it does.”

A slow smile stretches Crevan’s lips. “Alright, alright, I see you. I will point out that the display of responsibility is just as significant as how the power is used. When you encourage a paranoid nation the knee-jerk reaction can come from a boney knee. The politics of it can be tricky.”

“Ugh.” Noia rubs her temple with one heel of her hand. “I’ve heard too many conspiracy theories in the last twenty-four hours.”

Crevan chuckles and sips from his mug.

“Oh, what did you need to see me about?”

“Just to let you know I started the process for your ETHR badging that should go through Monday morning. It gives you access to all of our resources and anything you may need to help you locate Pandora’s jar or learn about any historical events.”

Noia sips from her mug. She did need to find the jar but she agrees with Oryn’s assessment: she needs to know more about what had happened in the past. As to where the jar could be, she has no ability with ley lines and cannot track it with arcana. Perhaps she can find someone who could?

“What about outside the city boundaries?” Noia asks. “I’ll need to track it across the dead zones.”

“We have remote helicopters that can go out for you. No need to endanger yourself.”

The feeling of being coddled strikes an old nerve in Noia. She straightens in her seat and levels her eyebrows.

“Crevan Almira.”

He pauses mid-sip and stares back at her. Again she sees emotions flit across his face and this time she catches a few.

Longing. Admiration. Sadness – or regret. Nostalgia.

Crevan clears his throat and lowers the mug. “Very well. However, I insist on taking you myself, miss guardian.”

“Alright.”

“I’ll get you set up for a zone pass. Before you go to each location have one of the head environmentalists research it. I recommend Rowan Landell.”

Noia swallows her last sip in a gulp. Rowan had told her where he works but his strong opinions versus the revelation of his position surprise her. “Who?”

“Rowan Landell. He’s the most thorough when it comes to dead zone assessment. I’ll introduce you Monday morning. Oh, unless you’d rather work with a woman?”

“No, no, that’s fine.”

They spend some time talking about trivial things and then Noia goes back to her room, warm from the tea. Leaning against the pool balcony railing she stares at the sky. Either way the jar had to be found.

The rest of the weekend passes with little event. Noia fills her head with history during the day and wanders the streets and floors at night. Though she digs into mythology none of it triggers another memory but all her history research she connects with dreams she had of the events while in the cavern. All of them came to her as she floated above the scene in sleep, disembodied like an astral projection or a ghost.

Monday morning comes and Noia is awake in her rooms long before Crevan will come for her. She scrolls through her phone, pondering all the names as well as her encounter with Oryn. It was time to make a move.

Who do you want to ask to help you locate Pandora’s Jar? Follow the link in the comments to place your vote!!

Just a reminder that while the survey for this segment will be open for all of October the story postings will be on hiatus. Arc 2 Segment 0 will be out Thursday, November 2, 2017.

In the mean time, feel free to share the series with friends you think might enjoy this series and like to participate!

**deadline to contribute to the survey for October : TUESDAY, OCTOBER 31, 2017 @ 11:59PM EST**

Thanks for sticking around - we'll see you soon!!

<3

Kiri