Noia smiles. “Yes, I would love to accept your help.”

Rowan exhales in a rush and rubs the back of his head. “Really? You’re sure? I wouldn’t want to push you.”

Noia folds her arms. “You’re going to push me around?”

“Ha, right. Ah, here, take a look at these.” He jerks towards the computer screen and starts tabbing through the dated photographs of the map section she had selected.

“Wait, go back.”

Rowan pauses the stream of files and backs through the images.

“That one.”

A vertical shot enlarged on the screen. At the bottom sprawled a yellow field of canola flowers. The house and storage unit in the photo she did not recall from her memory but the rise of green fields was familiar and the silhouette of the mountain range in the back was definitely etched into her memory. She had descended from San’azi’s web onto a field of spun gold with storm cloud covering her presence from the watchful heavens.

“Are you sure that’s it?”

“Definitely. It’s changed, over the ages, but that is where I hid The Jar.”

“That’s actually not far off – at least by travel standards now. I’m sure your journey all the way from Europe was a different standard in your time. Let me pinpoint it…just a sec…gotcha. Oh, dear.”

“What?”

“It’s, well, it’d be better if I show you.” He pulls up a map on the screen. That shows the continent of North America. Some areas are green, some a rusty orange-brown, and others are bright, angry red. He zoomed the view into the top half of the continent and then points to a left region on the map. “This is where we are in Washington state.” He pulls his finger across the map and a trail of dots on the map follow his contact. He stops in an area that is miles of angry red. “This is where your picture is from. It’s in the Rocky Mountain Range in Alberta, Canada.”

“That’s not a good color for a mountain range.”

“Nope, not at all. That’s a dead zone. They’re areas outside of currently habitable areas. Even in the very modern sense of civilization we have filter shields up to separate the fallout toxins from the End Wars. It’s not quite as bad as Chernobyl but it’s close enough. Areas that are clean become overgrown by Mother Nature quickly, although that’s how we know it’s almost safe enough to prepare the place for habitation.”

Noia raises her eyebrows. “Crevan has explained what dead zones are but I get the feeling you have more than just the statistics.”

Rowan taps his finger on the edge of the keyboard. He looks up at Noia, thinking. He lowers the frames of his glasses on his nose and says, “I’ll bring some more information after we set up a meeting. Some of this requires clearance for me to take off company property.”

Then he winks.

Noia opens her mouth to protest but catches herself and turns it into, “I-oh, I see. I would appreciate that.”

Rowan nods and turns back to the screen. “Here’s everything we have on the toxicity levels and it’s fragmented as it’s not a priority zone. Most of that providence is still affected by the fallout and what we do have we have to travel into the territory physically to retrieve.”

“Did mankind not launch a system of satellites to collect data and improve their communication system?”

“Yes, but everyone was doing it and that system was the first to be taken out during the End Wars. We came to rely so heavily on them – yes, I see that look. They had self defense systems but when the worlds nations are completing in the practice of secrecy under surveillance not all potential threats are caught by the intelligence agencies.”

All of the necessary files are compiled before Rowan realizes they have not spoken for – he glances at the dashboard bar – twelve minutes. He turns to find she is still standing beside him but she is frowning at him.

“What?”

“Tell me something, Rowan.”

She can see him swallow hard. “S-sure.”

“Why are humans constantly trying to tear each other apart?”

He blinks. “Why are the gods always playing games with mortals? And, ahem, correct me if I’m wrong but there is boundless squabbling in the heavenly ranks – not to mention a plethora of other social and political struggles that–”

“The ‘in you image’ spiel? Really? I know some humans are easy to lead along but surely some of them must be capable of thinking for themselves.”

“When there is such a dramatic and abundant presence of bad examples? It’s hard for a lot of people to focus on the few good choices when there are so many bad moral choices that come with great profits. It’s the way the world is.”

Anger glitters inside Noia but before she starts yelling she takes a breath and holds it. She counts to ten and releases the air. “No, Rowan. From the eye over history that Morphia gave me it is clear that this is the way the world is allowed to be. Change is a part of life but perhaps individuals are too entrapped in their own heads for it to matter.”

Rowan blinks again. He opens his mouth to continue the discussion but a notification pops up on his desktop in bright orange. He reads it faster than Noia can and closes it. He rises, clearing his throat. “Excuse me a moment.” With that he turns and exits the room.

Noia sighs and takes at seat again. The vibration of a phone on the counter makes her jump. It is Rowan’s sounding off next to the keyboard. Looking to distract herself from frustration Noia leans over and pokes the screen.

05/XX/45

[08:57] Brat: Ro, I may not be able to meet you for lunch. I have a last minute meeting with a high rolling client. Sorry! Forgive your little sister?

[09:00] Rowan: I’ll think about it.

[09:01] Brat: Booo, come on!

[10:42] Brat: Guess what?

[10:43] Brat: My client rescheduled. You still free?

[10:45] Rowan: Maybe. I was put on a new project. I’ll keep you updated.

[10:46] Brat: Awwwww boo. K.

[11:30] Brat: Oi, you coming to Kirk’s or what?

[11:37] Brat: Your Big Brother employer is terrible, making your little sister eat alone.

[12:12] Brat: I’m eating without you!

[12:45] Rowan: Sorry. Project is taking more time than I thought.

[12:46] Brat: Oooo sounds like a fun project if you’re absorbed. Can I help?

[13:32] Brat: Wow. That into it, huh? I’ll catch you later!

[14:34] SECOND PARTY CONNECTION ESTABLISHED FROM APPROVED CONTACT

[14:35] SYNCING…COMPLETE

Noia leans back and looks around. A few employees are already working at their stations again, back from lunch. A few are carrying folders out the door – either going to a separate department or talking amongst themselves about a collaboration. She glances at the phone again. This contact was of course the sister Rowan had mentioned earlier but something about her texting style was familiar…

“My dear, Noia. Did our Mr. Landell leave you all alone?”

Noia turns a jump into a rise from the chair. As she turns towards Crevan she flips the phone over and spreads a smile on her face. “He had something pressing to take care of. Some notification came on the screen but I didn’t understand it. "

“I see. Probably one of the sister departments with an internal problem. Well, has he been helpful to you?”

Noia scrambles for a plausible reason to hide the accurate location from Crevan – at least for the moment. She still was not sure if he was trustworthy. Luckily Rowan still had a range of pictures on the screen. “Yes. We narrowed down a location today and he said he’s compiling the information for me to review before we can plan a trip out.”

Crevan claps and grins. “That’s wonderful news! You know, I also heard back on your approval status from the GA to get you out to the dead zones. If you’ll come with me I’ll help you through the rest of the process. It will take the rest of the afternoon as we’ll need to go to the local embassy on the other side of downtown and the process is quite lengthy. Fortunately, that should give Mr. Landell plenty of time to compile the data. We can review it tomorrow.”

“Yes, ah, let me just leave him a note before I leave with some details I was not able to go over yet.”

“Certainly. Do you remember the way to the front?”

“Yes.”

“Meet me where we entered. I’ll being the car up for us.”

“Okay.”

After Crevan is out the door Noia opens up a simple notepad application and types a note for Rowan.

I AM GOING DOWNTOWN WITH CREVAN FOR TRAVEL DOCUMENTS. I DON’T THINK WE HAVE TIME TO CHOOSE OTHER PLAUSIBLE LOCATIONS. THIS IS THE ONLY WAY I CAN THINK OF TO GET A HOLD OF THE BOX QUICKLY ENOUGH TO SEE WHY I WAS WOKEN. WE SHOULD BE GONE FOR THE REST OF THE AFTERNOON.

The rest of the afternoon passes in a blur she doesn’t quite understand. Crevan helps her thorugh a tedious amount of paperwork, identification photos, and ID printings. That evening he drops her at her suite again and she turns to the computer for research through the night. The next day Crevan gathers Noia and Rowan in one of the top office meeting rooms and Rowan takes them through the location in Canada. The most efficient way to reach the location was via helicopter as there was a landing field just clear enough nearby but no roadways. Crevan gushes over this information and declares a team will be put together by the weekend and an itinerary worked out. Then he turns to Noia.

“Alright, expert. Who do you want as a lead on this expedition? We won’t have much room on the helicopter and a large ground team is to prominent a profile. My side goal is to keep The Resistance followers and treasure hunters off your back.”

Noia looks at the pictures and data on the display screen then looks at Rowan. She would need someone with outside knowledge of the area but it would probably be good to have someone with strategic experience navigating – like her first steps into the modern world.

“I’d like Rowan with us. He’s the most knowledgeable on your team for this.”

“Granted! Mr. Landell, your travel IDs and permits are current with the GA?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Alright. We’ll smooth out some more details this afternoon. If all goes well we can look forward to an early day.”

Sure enough, an hour and a half before the company’s end of day saw the trio at the elevator with Crevan’s permission for early leave. The ETHR CEO turned to Noia.

“My dear Noia, I would love to take you around for the afternoon but I seem to have an emergency conference on my schedule. Can you forgive me?”

Noia smiles. “I’ll be alright. Rowan has offered to show me around.”

“Has he?” Noia catches the lightning flash of hurt that flashes over Crevan’s face. Was it that obvious or was she just getting better at reading his emotions? “Keep her out of trouble, Mr. Landell. She has a tendancy for going on adventures.”

Noia frowns at him but he winks at her. How did he know that about her nature?

Rowan smiles, missing the whole exchange. “Of course, sir.”

The elevator dings and Rowan and Noia step in. Crevan waves until the door closes and then Noia sighs heavily.

“Is something wrong?” Rowan asks.

“I can’t figure him out.”

“Few can. He’s tricky.”

“If he was a little more arrogant and power-hungry I would think he is Zuiter.”

“Zeus?” Rowan laughs. “I wonder what that would be like.”

“Not good.”

“Isn’t the king of gods the most capable of handling a calamity like this world?”

“He’s more likely to have caused it and then snaked his way in as he leads them out of a maze he made by tricking the humans. He wiped my name from history and skewed everyone’s memory of the jar.”

“Right.”

They fall quiet when the elevator opens and exit the building without much delay in the direction of the parking garage. Rowan leads her to a green vehicle. The lights flash when it unlocks at a distance. Noia’s hand is on the door already when he tries to rush around the car and open it for her. She waves him off, with a shake of her head, assuring him she can get it herself.

The car starts smoothly and Noia leans back into the cloth seats while Rowan navigates them onto the streets.

“What was it you were avoiding telling me in the lab?” Noia asks. “About the dead zones?”

“They’re called dead zones but what we don’t tell the public is that the areas we nominate devoid of life are really just hiding life. It’s toxic above the surface but sometimes there are underground tunnels or hidden groves in the densest parts of the damage with flourishing life. There aren’t pictures of it because usually the creatures know to stay out of the toxic wastes and it’s hard for teams to break into the purified zones.”

“Why?”

Rowan squints one eye and tilts his head. “Probably because the outer edge needs to be thick to shield it from toxins – like the way our filtration system around the cities works. Or…”

Noia nods, picking up on the suggestion. “Or it’s as if the planet is protecting itself. This…Mother Nature, you called it.”

Rowan glances over at her. “Does she exist?”

Noia looks at Rowan.

Well? How do you answer?