Ar'Tok - Alana Khan Page 0,50

at the hotel store to buy sturdy clothing, we’re hovering to our destination. It’s cool today. Although I lived in a cell that had windows to the open air three-hundred-seventy-six days a year no matter what the weather, Star insists we both buy yellow rain slickers. I have no complaints; it makes her look even prettier.

The closer we get to the mountain, the larger and more ominous it looks.

“It says,” Star states as she scrolls through her computer pad, “the mountain range was formed eons ago by a planetary cataclysm. Much of the rock you’ll see is igneous rock from volcanic activity. It hasn’t erupted for thousands of years. It reports,” she pauses while she reads, “you might find fissures, lava tubes, and other evidence of ancient volcanoes.

“For ten credits we get an all-day pass on the grinton. It sounds like a narrow hover-train that goes on a continuous loop up and down. If we get tired, we can just jump on it for a while and enjoy the scenery without the effort.”

“What time does it stop running?”

“1500, which is perfect because we should be off the mountain by then to ensure we get back to the Multi-Pleasure in time for showers and maybe some . . . bedroom activities before we meet the guys at 1815.” She actually winked at me when she said the words ‘bedroom activities’. I think I found a female as interested in sexual explorations as I am. What are the odds of that?

The mountain is beautiful and imposing. It’s rocky and filled with scattered trees and flowers. Some are the same green-and-blue-leafed trees that formed the canopy where we zip-lined. Some have vivid yellow bark and foliage. White, blue, purple, and pink flowers dot the ground, even peeking out from between the sharp black rocks.

Before we get to the trailhead, we’re accosted by natives selling food in little paper bags.

“My secret family recipe,” a wizened old woman sings, her ocher skin covered in wrinkled folds. “Passed down for generations, this trail mix will give you energy at the high altitudes.”

“Only one credit,” a young girl twenty steps away calls. “My momma wakes up early to make this mix every morning. It has secret berries used by the elders to help you breathe in the thin air.”

“We should have bought snacks at the hotel,” Star says, “but let’s get some here.”

“Adventurous,” I tell her. “Who knows if we’re buying packaged dirt and shredded paper?”

“Ah, a skeptic. See? I learn more about you every day.” She buys from both the old woman and the young girl, slips the food into the small backpack she brought that carries bottled water, and we strike off up the path.

There’s such a throng of people starting up the path that we almost get separated during the first quarter mille. At that point, the dirt path stops and hits a ninety-degree wall of rock that has to be climbed with hands and feet. About eighty percent of the tourists grumble and turn back. Several of them complain that the entry fee wasn’t worth it.

“Star, we have plenty of money. It’s not like we can’t afford to take the loss. Want to turn back?” I ask. Star is huffing and puffing when we’re no more than thirty fiertos off the ground.

“No.”

There was a grid of metal rebar exposed at the top of my cell back on Simca. I shiver in disgust as I try to calculate how many hours I spent hanging from those bars in the last twenty-five years. How many millions of pull-ups did I perform? How many times in a single day did I move hand-over-hand from one side of my cell to the other?

I never caught a glimpse of my reflection until I boarded the Fool’s Errand. Now that I have, I see why none of the males suspected I wasn’t a gladiator. I have the physique of one from my labors in my cell.

Star has little upper body strength. This is going to be hard for her.

I climb behind her and to her right, my head even with her waist. Watching her every move, I stay ready to catch her if she falls.

I glimpse her face when she looks down to secure a foothold. Her jaw is set, her mouth turned down in pain as she takes every laborious step.

“I don’t think I can make my way to the top, Star. This is more than I bargained for,” I tell her. “How about when we get to