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muttered.

“Zion and Rosanheer managed to find six more last night, but one of them died,” he explained.

Sedom’s eyes turned to her teacup, her mind buzzing. “I plan to go out in the morning and search for other survivors, just in case some managed to flee the city.”

“You think there are any?” Garric asked.

“Do you?” she returned, curious of his answer.

Garric shook his head, unsteady. “I'm not sure why they even bothered to hunt for anyone in the city unless they were looking for someone in particular. Maybe you?”

“Doubtful. But I’m sure they’re searching for me now,” Sedom joked.

“Yes, well, I can assure you your actions didn’t go unnoticed.” He paused, sitting back in his seat. “Thinking back, common procedures dictate they incinerate the area and leave nothing to chance. It’s too early in the project to use slaves for manual labor. Slaves would be too great of an expense and would get in the way.”

“Huh, well if they weren’t searching for me, then who were they looking for?” Sedom questioned as she took a sip of her tea.

Garric rested his head against the back of the chair, his mind struggling with the words. “Alree,” he stated with hesitation.

Sedom sat up from her seat, suddenly interested in what Garric was saying. “Elaborate.”

Garric blinked several times as he thought. “He’s a Crehail man in his late forties. He has internal knowledge of the Empire's weapons and defense department. He was also a liaison to the Wyice family.”

“Wyice? The name keeps popping up. Who are they?” Sedom asked, her body now hunched closer to Garric.

“They’re the primary manufacturers of illegal drugs in the section of the galaxy. They also manufacture biological weapons for the Empire. Without Alree, the Empire has no way to communicate with the Wyice's. He’s especially close to Lord Sidoc Wyice, who’s particularly elusive. Some say he's the genius of the family...” He paused, looking towards the door, “…and the one who created the virus which killed your people,” he added.

“Sidoc Wyice…” Sedom thought as she began to pace. Now she had a name to go with her hatred. “So it's in our best interest to find this… Alree, before the Marisheio?”

Garric nodded. “I would… if that is indeed who they’re searching for. I might be completely incorrect.”

“What makes you think he’s on Matrador?” Sedom questioned.

Garric rose from his seat and hurried to her dining room table where stacks of computers sat. He thumbed through three, finding the right one he needed. He returned, handing it to her. “These are my reports from two weeks ago.”

She read through the report, suddenly enlightened by what she read. She hurried from the living room to call Zion.

“What is it, Sortec?” he barked over the line.

“Drop the attitude. Garric informed me of some information I want to check into. Meet me at Nokinil's quarters. I have a few questions for him.”

“What? Can't you handle an old man by yourself? You do everything else by yourself,” Zion growled back.

“Nokinil's quarters, now!” she demanded, causing even Garric to flinch. She turned to Garric, noticing his startled expression. “He's pissed that I didn't include him in the festivities above. It’s the first time he’s ever yelled at me,” she admitted.

He nodded several times. “Situation reversed, I would be too. In his eyes, you are his responsibility to keep safe. He’s already lost one charge. He’d have to take his own life if he lost another,” Garric pointed out.

“Asa, hum?” She paused, thinking about what he said. “I guess I understand that. I pay him to guard me, I should probably let him,” she thought out loud. Garric nodded, agreeing as she spoke. “I never thought you’d be on his side.”

“I need you alive. It’s the only way I’ll remain so also,” he joked seriously back.

***

Zion was already at the mayor's quarters when Sedom arrived. She did not bother to acknowledge Zion. She could feel his discontentment at her as she walked up to the door. She knocked.

Nokinil answered the door, his face long and his eyes puffy from tears. “Chadon Sortec, how may I be of assistance?” he asked with a sniffle.

“My friend Zion,” she introduced. “May we enter?” she asked. He stepped aside, allowing them to enter his quarters. “Have you begun working on a list?”

He hurried over to the sofa, grabbing a computer pad. “These are all the survivors from our city and their locations.”

Sedom took the list, searching for Taraam Alree’s name, the name Garric mentioned to her. His name was not listed.

“That's fine. Give Cidele a copy and we'll decide on occupations for everyone,” she decided.

“You're allowing them to stay?” Zion asked in his native language so as to not frighten Nokinil.

“I want an army. I can't exactly build one at the rate I'm going. As I see it, we’re going to need people to fill the basic operations of Gathow as well,” she hushed back. “I'm planning to take a search party out tomorrow to see if we can locate anyone else who managed to flee. Do you have any ideas where we should look?” she asked.

Nokinil stared at Zion for a moment, then nodded. “The tunnels near Orvai falls. We had a hunting party head in that direction. My guess, there might have been thirty men and a few teens. They may have managed to see what happen and hide there. We stored supplies in the caves for three days in case of an event like this.”

“We'll start our search there,” Sedom said, nudging Zion. “Get some sleep. With any luck, your people are still alive.”

“Chadon, my nephew Danstu is with the group. If you do manage to find them, ask for him and tell him Coppy sent you.”

Sedom motioned for Zion to follow. During the time she walked with Zion, she

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