Timeless (The Cartographer Book 3) by Craig Gaydas Page B

and I took a sip. After Kedge's little prank on me at the terminal, I was a bit more cautious about what was offered. I sniffed it and took a small sip. When I determined it really was water, I swallowed the rest in a single gulp. The liquid was cool, crisp and refreshing—better than any spring water I ever had on Earth. Kedge sipped from the glass and set it aside casually.
    Satisfied that everyone enjoyed their beverage, Mazu turned toward the driver. “Jori, please take us to the Temple.”
    The driver nodded slowly and put the bus into drive. The vehicle lurched forward and Mazu returned his attention to us. He poured himself a glass of water and cleared his throat. “We apologize for having to use ground transport to the Temple, but due to increased rebel activity, we have had to restrict air travel.”
    “Rebel activity?” Vigil asked.
    Sorrow fell over Mazu and he nodded somberly. “I'm afraid so. Not everyone shares the Order's beliefs or respects their authority over these lands.” He took another sip of his drink before continuing. “Our belief in Brasus, the Sun God, and his absolute authority over the planet, does not sit well with them.” He pointed toward the window. “The sun brings us life and represents the symbol of Brasus. When a sun dies, life follows. In return for his generosity, the Order has vowed to keep the power of the sun from fading.”
    “How can you do that?” I asked. When everyone turned to me, I held up my hands in confusion. “How do you stop a sun from dying?”
    “Clean living,” Mazu explained. “We work at protecting the environment through organic industry.”
    “You mean slavery,” Kedge replied with a scowl.
    Mazu seemed taken aback. “Slavery? One cannot enslave the willing, sir.”
    “The willing?” I asked skeptically.
    Mazu nodded. “The people of Gliese understand that sacrifices must be made to ensure the cycle of life continues.”
    Before I could protest further, Vigil laid a hand upon my forearm. “We are not here to judge the way the Order handles their business.” He turned to Mazu and raised an eyebrow. “I am, however, concerned about this rebel activity you mentioned.”
    I turned to see the bus driver studying us through the rear-view mirror. He quickly looked away when he spotted me. Before I could determine if his curiosity had been innocent or something more sinister, Mazu waved his hand with indifference.
    “The rebel activity is nothing to be concerned with. We have recently made a deal which should reduce the rebellion significantly.” He picked up a remote and switched on the television. “In fact, Braxii was so thrilled with the recent developments that he wanted to tell you himself.” He pointed to the screen.
    “I thought we were going to the Temple?” Vigil asked.
    Mazu remained silent. Instead, an image of a man filled the television screen. He was flanked by two guards adorned in the same gold armor and holy symbols as the guards with us. His bushy, brown beard flowed down to his bare chest. I observed two tattoos of sunbursts, one on each shoulder. His dark, emotionless eyes sat upon an angular nose, unlike the bulbous noses I had seen from other natives of the planet. When he spoke, his voice was gravelly, as if he had just swallowed a bag of rock salt.
    “Greetings, envoy of the Insurgents. I apologize that we could not meet in person, but I hope Mazu has taken adequate care of your needs?”
    “He has been fine,” Vigil replied with a hint of aggravation. “I was under the impression we were meeting in person to conduct these negotiations.”
    “That was the original plan,” Braxii replied with a solemn look. “But we received an offer from Calypso that we couldn't refuse.”
    “Calypso?” I cried in alarm.
    Before any of us could move, large metal bands extended from the seats and wrapped around our legs and torsos. I tried to wriggle free, but it was like being hugged by a grizzly bear. I couldn't budge an