"My mother’s journal! Now I remember . . . but wait, how did you get this?"

Six months later. . . .

Is he still there? Look quick. Freck! Okay. Keep walking, straight. Not too fast! Force yourself, look calm! Slight smile. Look down. No eye contact. But scan the crowd. Every movement, every twitch. There could be others.

Miss a Chapter?

For the full story of Rayn, start with this handy guide to past installments:    More Stories Rayn: Episode Seven - On the Dark Side of the Moon Rayn: Episode Six - On the Bright Side of the Moon Rayn: Episode Five - Buried, Live Rayn: Episode Four - Underworld Chit-Chat Episode One: Arayna Episode Two: Din of Iniquity

Episode Three: La Musique de Guerre Episode Four:Underworld Chit-Chat Episode Five: Buried,Live

Episode Six: On the Bright Side of the Moon Episode Seven: On the Dark Side of the Moon Episode Eight: Predator, Now Prey

Rayn slides, perhaps a breath too quickly, through the crowd and up to the line at the ticket counter. There is at least one man after her, maybe more. After all these months of being hunted, she has gotten very good at picking them out. Good but not perfect. A glance at her by a nonchalant or reclining figure, usually alone or mumbling in a group. Looking quickly from her to the inside of his jacket where a confirming picture of her undoubtedly perched. Or glancing, then tapping temple-activated lens digitals to scan and ID her. Different methods, frills and danger levels depending on whether it was soldier or mercenary, bounty hunter or zealot, and on how much they knew.

He’s closer.

She pulls the hood of her stolen monk’s robe further down. Many a new religion had sprung up since the war. It was easy to hide amongst the faithful as they were generally ignored if not actively avoided by a world where most faith had been lost.

Now he’s across from me, against the far wall. Did he just blink at someone else, another behind me?

The transport station is full of drifting people, refugees, ex-soldiers, petty crooks and thieves. All moving out for the first time from their wounded home through the space stations and into the formerly automated mining colonies on the nearest neighboring planets and their many moons. At least they had someplace to go. Fleeing, searching, hoping. To start a new life.

Rayn reaches the counter. She hands over the black market passport, her third in as many months. She holds her breath.

It passes. Now the DNA scan.

He’s watching. She puts her finger in the slot. The print read, the prick. Did the finger pad work? Was the blood wall thick enough? He’s watching.

She sighs. She’s cleared. Identification had become so important, to recollect the populace, to make people feel like they still really existed.

"Ganyra lunar shuttle 10. Level B, iris 10."

She has to walk past him. So many people. Would he make a move even here? He might if he knows. He twitches again. There is another one behind her.

For months she had traveled ship to ship, station to station, colony to colony. Always alone. Always in disguise. Always hunted. There had been dozens of close calls. Even one capture and escape. If they hadn’t been ordered to take her alive, she would be dead by now. But the key was in her, in her blood. Where her mother had put it.

He’s following me. In sync they wind through the crowd, predator and prey. She rounds the corner. She senses something and yanks back. A tranquilizer dart just missed her.

Her sight, hearing, strength, instincts had always been superior. Maybe she should have known she wasn’t trying harder or born better, just engineered.

She flicks her wrist at the predator. Her own dart gun fires and she doesn’t miss. And her darts are tipped with more than tranquilizer. As he falls the other one comes after her. Freck, other two! She pulls a hazard alarm and disappears into the pandemonium.

She ducks into a communications booth. She pulls off one color robe to reveal another, different color and style, different sect. Then she heads off slowly to her real flight in the opposite direction. The one on the ticket beneath hers that she had switched it for at the counter. They run past her. She sighs. How many more lives can I have?

So many are after her, more everyday. To sell her, use her, test her, probe her. If everyone knew, nowhere would be safe. Not that anywhere is now.

She slips into her shuttle seat and curls up. So very tired. She can feel the journal pressing against her inside the shirt of her simple leather outfit beneath. I remember her writing in it. Her mother’s handwriting, her mother’s words. But every other page is missing! The pages there formed a work journal of her mother’s biochemical experiments. Half way through begins the part about her greatest experiment ever. Rayn.

She curls up tighter, trying to rest. Then she sees him. Ten rows ahead on the left. Myles.

Tyran limps into his father’s chamber. Onar is asleep in his chair. Tyran goes past him to Shi who has now installed herself at her father’s desk. He taps it with his new cane. Shi looks up. He shakes his head. Shi sighs and sucks her hair.

"It would be easier if we just killed her." Tyran growls.

"It was father’s first plan. If it even has a chance of succeeding we have to try. It’ll give us ultimate power and make everything else so much easier."

"Easier perhaps. But it’s not necessary."

"You don’t seem to understand. In her body and brain is the key to immortality!"

"Overrated. Besides you can get what you need from her dead or alive."

"The locating -- extracting -- could take months. And that’s before we can even begin testing, processing, purifying. We need her alive for all that."

"And then?"

Shi shrugs.

Tyran smiles.

Myles. Ganyra was known as the artists’ colony. Rayn should have known she might run into him.

They disembark. She tries to avoid him, but he seems to sense her. He sees her, recognizes her. Before he can blow her cover by running up with open arms, she takes him aside and they go back to his place.

It’s magnificent. Beauty is blown, chiseled, etched and mounted in every corner. Every inch of every painted wall and ceiling puts her at an ease she hasn’t felt in a long time. She doesn’t know if she can trust anyone, even him. But she wants to try. She wants to talk. So she tells him as much as she knows. She shows him the journal.

"I really think it started off to help me. It said I was a sickly child. Dying. Some degenerative disease. The shots . . . " The snakes that bit while I slept. " . . . were probably to make me stronger. Then something must’ve happened. I can’t tell what, it gets rambly at the end. It was a mistake or a side-effect or something. Had to be."

"That’s one way to read it."

"It’s my way."

"The other way is that these love letters--"

"They were never even sent -- look!"

". . . from Onar to your mother meant she was working with him to find the key to immortality by experimenting on you and probably others."

There’s got to be more to it than that! Or else why kill my mother? Why kill my whole family? And why save me? And then there’s the problem with the crime-scene photos. "That’s not what happened. My mother wouldn’t use me as a guinea pig. And my parents were in love."

"Is that a memory or a wish?"

She doesn’t answer for a moment. Then, "What matters is that it’s inside me!"

"And we’ve got to get it out . . . and destroy it." He looks at her and adds softly, "You know when I got your note I thought you left because . . . I thought it was me." He stands. "I’m going with you."

"No." How can I trust anyone? Can I trust you?

"Either that or I’ll follow you and probably get spotted and get us both nixed. We need to get out of here and get help. Fast. The more this gets out--"

"Believe me, I know."

At a Peacemaker officers meeting, Rozar listens as his commander reads the report. Roz’s mouth goes dry. His black fingernails dig into the table as he realizes that that’s what the Council’s been secretly hunting for all this time. Immortality. Rayn.

His commander closes the report and turns to them. "Council security is looking everywhere. A few factions and mercenaries have picked up that she’s valuable even if they’re not sure what for. Everybody’s looking and sooner or later someone will find her. People, this is a power too dangerous to be in anyone’s hands! The Tri-Senate is still too weak. Something like this could destroy it all. The questions. Who gets it first? Everyone? Rich? Poor? Former Highs? Former Lows? Who decides? We’re not ready for this. It, she has to be eliminated.

The commander stands. "We have teams standing by. One of you will have to go out and coordinate the search."

Rozar stands.

"I’ll go. If it has to be anyone, it should be me."

Next week -- Episode 10: The Most Important Thing