Arkin paused a moment to catch his breath. He wasn't at all sure what had just happened. One moment he was being chased in a scout ship toward GraySpace, and the next, he found himself standing here in the middle of nowhere. When he looked around, all he could see was what appeared to be a path leading off in two directions. He obviously wasn't in Space anymore. This place was a flat brown surface stretching as far as the eye could see in all directions but one. In that direction he could see a green bulge in the surface. The path he was on consisted of a strip of darker brown that led in the direction of the green bulge. It continued in the other direction as well. The worst of it was that there were no walls or ceilings here but a vast openness that Arkin found very disturbing. Perhaps this was a "planet." He'd read about such places in the base archives, but he'd never thought he would see one.

  He was still considering whether he was more disturbed by his recent passage through GraySpace, or the lack of walls and a ceiling in this strange place he found himself in, when he noticed a young man dressed in odd brown clothing running toward him, apparently sticking to the path. He panicked briefly and considered finding a place to hide, but the young man didn't look all that dangerous, and besides, in this strange place there was nothing that might provide concealment.

  As he waited for the young man to approach him, he considered once more the circumstances that had led him here. After Conner had given him the final confirmation of his theories, he had gone to the General and explained his discovery. He hadn't expected the reaction he'd gotten. The General had dismissed his ideas as flights of fancy, and had confined him to quarters for three days as punishment for wasting his valuable time. After that Arkin had tried to convince another officer, but that just got him thrown in the brig. Then his friend Conner came to tell him he was going to be court-marshaled for insubordination. In desperation he'd accepted his friend's help stealing a scout ship. Of course they'd sent a wing of fighters after him. Conner had programmed his scout ship to fly Arkin to the one place he knew they would never follow - GraySpace. Funny, now that he had more time to think about what happened, he wondered if Conner's motives for helping him were as unselfish as he'd claimed. Perhaps Conner had wanted to get rid of him too. After all, he had only Conner's word that he had been in danger of a court martial.

  Arkin was distracted from this disturbing thought by the imminent approach of the young man. Having no other options, he drew his firearm and waited to see what would happen. The youth's reaction to Arkin was very strange. He appeared not at all concerned by Arkin's firearm. Without a word, he paused briefly to remove his foot gear, and placed it on the ground in front of Arkin facing back toward the direction from which he'd come. It was also the direction of the bulge in the surface on which Arkin was standing. Then he continued barefoot down the path in the direction he'd been traveling.

  "I can take a hint," Arkin thought. So he put on the foot gear and began to walk along the path in the direction the foot gear had been pointing, in the opposite direction from the way the young man went.

  A little further along the road, Arkin spotted a group of structures in the near distance. The bulge was still clearly visible far beyond the city. He recognized the group of structures as a city from references that he'd come across in some of the books in the base archives. As he approached the city, he could see that it was a small town surrounded by a high wall. The path he was following led up to a gate in the city wall which was flanked by two men in the same strange brown clothing as the youth he'd encountered earlier. But these men were carrying large round slabs of wood in one hand, and wore belts. Attached to each of the belts was a narrow leather case. Arkin was mystified as to the purpose of such a clumsy looking device. From the colored strips of cloth on the men's shoulders, he surmised that they must be guards of some sort, possibly members of a militia. Surely, the leather cases must be extremely clumsy for them. Perhaps they served to contain some sort of weapon. Arkin was glad he'd had the good sense to accept the personal firearm Conner had offered him when he'd broken him out of the brig.

  When Arkin approached the gate, one of the guards blocked his entrance to the gate and laughed, "Hello and what's this. They're growing Newmers big these days aren't they. And clothed in such garb too. The High Counselor is going to want to speak to you. Better follow me."

  With that, the guard strode through the gate, and with a glance over his shoulder to indicate to Arkin that he should follow, continued along a wider path lined with small huts. After a moment, Arkin realized this must be the local equivalent of a supply center, only instead of checking everything out of one central storehouse, it looked like goods were exchanged using some kind of chaotic system that Arkin could not fathom. And there were no records being kept either, as far as he could tell. Arkin wondered if his trip through GraySpace hadn't addled his brain. Or perhaps these people had made the same trip, and they were the addled ones. The thought comforted him slightly, but he was still apprehensive about this meeting with the High Counselor the guard had mentioned. He hadn't had much luck with people in positions of authority lately.

  Just then something very strange happened. A very small person appeared without warning right in front of his escort. The small person was completely naked, and immediately started to cry. The guard stopped and took off his shoes, then put his shoes on the feet of the new arrival. A second person came and gave the new person the shirt he had been wearing.

  One by one, townspeople came and each supplied the newcomer with something they had in their possession. This time though, the transaction was completely one-sided, no one seemed to expect anything from the small person in return. They simply gave him one object, and walked away. Arkin did notice two things though. First, everyone seemed to be giving up whatever possession of theirs was in the worst condition. Second, the objects that they gave up were much too big to be of use to the small person when they produced them. But when they were placed in the new person's possession, they appeared to adjust themselves magically to fit perfectly. Arkin wondered what strange technology was at work here. Up until now everything he'd seen had led him to believe these people were much more primitive. He resolved to try to keep a more open mind in the future.

  The guard allowed Arkin to observe this activity for a moment, then said somewhat sarcastically, "Just what we need. Two Newmers in one day. Still I could use a new pair of shoes."

  When the guard spoke about the newcomer, Arkin made a sudden mental connection. They must think of him as being like this Newcomer. Arkin must also seem to these people to have appeared as if from nowhere. But he had arrived fully grown and with his possessions intact. No wonder the guards thought he was such an oddity. It also made it obvious why they were in such a hurry to take him to see whoever was in charge. Arkin was just beginning to wonder what any of this had to do with the guard needing new shoes when the guard indicated that he should continue walking.

  "Move along now. I'll not risk banishment to the gray curtain."

  At the guard's mention of the gray curtain, Arkin stopped suddenly, hoping to ask the guard what he meant. The guard was obviously in no mood to ask questions though, so Arkin thought better of it and continued to walk in silence.

  Eventually, the chaos gave way to a long path lined with trees and orderly rows of dwellings. Even though the trees were unfamiliar - Arkin recognized them from descriptions he'd read in the base archives - Arkin began to feel a little more comfortable. The dwelling places looked like they might provide walls and ceilings. The guard led him straight down the widest path to what Arkin supposed must be the center of the city and climbed up a set of stairs in front of the biggest dwelling of all. The guard stopped in front of the tall doors and spoke briefly to one of the two guards that waited there before disappearing back down the road. These new guards were dressed similarly to the guards at the city gate, but they wore more colored bands on their shoulders. Arkin supposed they must be of higher rank, and thus had the privilege of guarding whatever impressive personage must live in this dwelling. The new guard looked him over, then said gruffly,

  "Yet another Newmer for the council to deal with. Come along then."

  Arkin was getting tired of being called a "Newmer." It was obvious that they were used to seeing new people appear suddenly from out of nowhere. So much so that they'd contracted the word "newcomer" to create a special word to describe people like himself. He wondered if they also knew about GraySpace. Perhaps they could help him get back home with proof that his theories were correct. The image of his superiors' faces when they had to admit that Arkin had been right all along made him feel better for a moment.

  The guard escorted Arkin into the building and up a short flight of stairs. At the top of the stairs there was a long hallway with several doors spaced every few feet along each side. At the far end of the hallway was a particularly ornate doorway. The guard motioned for him to go in front, and followed him down the hallway to the ornate door. Then he knocked on the door three times. A few seconds later the door opened, and an older man dressed in ornate robes matching the decorations on the door appeared.

  "I've brought you another Newmer, my lord."

  The guard turned round and headed back down the hallway. Apparently, no one considered Arkin to be a threat to the old man. Otherwise, they would not have left him unguarded. Either they didn't know about firearms, or this man possessed great powers, or both. Obviously, he was a person of some authority. The guard had addressed him as "my lord." Arkin surmised that he must be the High Counselor that one of the guards had mentioned earlier.

  The High Counselor paused for a moment, examining Arkin from bottom to top. Arkin had the distinct impression that there was something about himself that made the High Counselor uncomfortable.

  He motioned for Arkin to come inside and stepped back into the room. As Arkin followed him inside, he had time to glance around. The High Counselor's office was decorated in the same way as the door had been, with long curtains from floor to ceiling all ornately decorated with shiny pieces of some unknown material, and intricate patterns and figures. There was also some furniture in the room that appeared to be made out of something very different from the metal used in the furniture they had on the base. There was a large window on the other side of the room, and he could see the planetary bulge in the distance. At the left and right ends of the room were similarly decorated doors.

  Arkin waited patiently for the man to speak.

  The man spent several apparently futile seconds searching for something on a large desk littered with parchments. Then without looking up he asked, "Do you have a name then?"

  "I am Arkin, Second Assistant to the Head Research Librarian, Sector 7, Delta Quadrant, Montgomery Base."

  The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  "And I suppose you expect me to be impressed by this?"

  "No, sir, I was just answering your question."

  Arkin was beginning to regret coming into the city. It was obvious that this man did not like him. He didn't think many of the local townspeople would want to help him if their leader didn't like him.

  "I understood you to say something about research. What were you researching?"

  "I was examining the records of all the battles we fought with the Lumerians over the last 300 years or so."

  At this, the man stopped searching among his parchments and looked up at Arkin with interest. He continued the interrogation.

  "And who are these Lumerians? You fought battles with them? Do we have anything to fear from them?"

  "The Lumerians are a race of beings from another planet in a distant solar system. We fight battles with them regularly. They seem to invade our space quite regularly. But I don't think you have anything to fear from them. They attack us in their fighters from space, and I've never seen any accounts of them showing any interest in the surface of a planet."

  "Your words mean nothing to me. Planet, space, fighters? It sounds like a lot of nonsense to me. Obviously, it's going to take a while to unravel whatever mystery you represent. I don't much care for mysteries, so you'd do well to cooperate with us so we can solve yours as quickly as possible. Unfortunately, I can't spare the time to deal with you right now."

  The High Counselor went to the biggest desk in the room, and rang a bell that was sitting on one end of the desk. After a moment, a man appeared through the door at the left side of the room.

  "Your wish, my Lord?"

  "Take this Newmer to the guest quarters, and arrange an interview for him in the council chambers for tomorrow morning. He claims to have a high sounding name, with a long winded title, but I only caught the first part of it. We will call him Arkin."

  The servant led Arkin off to another part of the building and showed him a room to spend the night in. The room was similar to the High Counselor's room, but not as ornately decorated. Arkin heard the distinct sound of a door locking when the servant left him. Perhaps they felt more threatened by his presence than they were willing to admit. He decided to make the best of it, and went to sleep on the funny looking bed in one corner of his room.

  The High Counselor was deeply disturbed by what the Newmer had told him. He claimed to have come from another world of all things. There was no denying that there was something very strange about this Newmer. He wore strange clothes, and had appeared fully grown outside the city gates. The very strangeness of the circumstances surrounding his appearance made him all the more dangerous. It would make it easier for the townspeople to accept his claims. After all, they had the evidence of their own eyes to prove to them that something new and unknown did indeed exist. And he couldn't help but think about that fiasco with the previous Chief Adviser The previous High Counselor had let that situation get completely out of control. Even when he did finally deal with the old man decisively, it had almost been too late.

  As he came to a decision, he called once more to his servant to come in and join him.

  "Assemble the council in the morning. We must consider what should be done about the Newmer."

  The next morning, Arkin heard a knock on his door, followed shortly by the appearance of the servant he'd met the previous night.

  "Please come with me," the servant said.

  The servant led Arkin to yet another part of the building where there was a very large circular room. All around the outside were seats, mostly occupied by older men and women. There was a small platform in the center of the room. The platform was ringed by a small fence made of that same brown material he'd noticed before. It was obviously intended to keep people from falling off. It reminded him of the box reserved for the accused at a court martial on his star base. The servant escorted him to the platform and opened a small section of the fence so that he could step up on the platform, then told him to stay there, and disappeared again.

  Arkin took this opportunity to examine the room he found himself in more thoroughly. As the councilmen entered the room, they were taking seats that were placed in rings of increasing height as they got further from the center. They all seemed to have pre-assigned seats. He also noticed that the councilmen who wore the finest clothes took the low seats in front and closest to the center of the room. Apparently the hierarchy of authority was reflected in the seating arrangements here, with the highest ranked councilmen seated lowest, and closest to the center. As he turned around to survey the rest of the room, he noticed one particular seat on the lowest level was on a platform raised slightly above its neighboring seats on that level. It also had a low fence around the front half of the raised section. Arkin supposed this must be the seat reserved for the High Counselor. He could easily imagine the General using a similar arrangement to emphasize his importance.

  After a few more minutes, everyone stood up at once, and Arkin supposed that it must be because the High Counselor had just walked into the room. As expected, the High Counselor walked to the special seat Arkin had noticed and sat down. Everyone else in the room immediately took seats as well. This was beginning to look familiar to Arkin. The military where he had come from behaved in exactly the same way. He hoped he wouldn't find the same intolerance of new ideas here that he'd had to endure from the General and his officers.

  A council member stood up from his seat immediately to the right of the High Counselor and unrolled a piece of parchment. He began to read in somber tones.

  "Honored members of the High Council. We are gathered here today to consider the proper response to the arrival of a stranger to our fair city. The stranger in question stands before you."

  After this simple statement, he turned to the High Counselor, bowed briefly, and sat down.

  Now the High Counselor was standing up, and as he turned to address the council, Arkin was suddenly struck by the irony of his situation. Apparently he'd escaped one court martial only to face the equivalent of a court martial here in this world.

  "In keeping with our most cherished traditions of justice, the stranger will be permitted an opportunity to speak in his own defense."

  After this, the High Counselor turned and addressed Arkin.

  "You may address the Council."

  Arkin took a moment to consider his next words. In spite of the High Counselor's high sounding words about justice, he had the suspicion that his fate had already been decided. He wasn't sure his speech would make any difference. On the other hand, there were a lot of people in this room. From his experience with the military on his own world, he knew that there may well be some here who opposed the High Counselor, or disagreed with his policies. He decided to pitch his defense to them. Perhaps if he was convincing enough, he might find an ally among them

  "Most honored members of the Council," he began with a bow. "I am sure that you all have much important business that requires your attention, so I will be brief and come straight to the point."

  Arkin hoped a little implied flattery might help his cause. It had been his experience that those in positions of authority liked to feel that their responsibilities were the most important of all, and society would quickly fall apart without them.

  "I am indeed a stranger to your fair city. I have come from a place that is difficult to describe..."

  Arkin stopped for a moment. He'd almost continued with "in terms that you would understand," but then he'd realized that in this venue, that phrase might be mistaken for an insult.

  "...I fear I lack the necessary ability to express ideas with words."

  There, that should help. Humility might be useful in addressing an audience of proud officials.

  "Suffice it to say, that it is nothing like your fair city, and cannot compare to its beauty. I wish I could tell you how I came to be here, but I can not. Nor can I explain in a meaningful way where I came from. I just know that one moment I was..."

  Arkin stopped again. He'd almost made another mistake. He'd started to say "fleeing in my friend's starship". That was just what he needed to do. Give them a reason to presume him guilty. He wasn't yet prepared to answer questions about what had driven him to flee from his own home.

  "...flying near GraySpace in my starship, trying to stay well clear of our enemies the Lumerians, and the next I found myself outside your city."

  Not exactly the truth, but these people obviously knew so little about technology that even if he told the whole truth, they wouldn't understand enough of what he said that it would make any difference.

  "Since I arrived, I have been treated well, and for that I am grateful. My greatest desire is merely that I be returned to my home. Since arriving here, I have heard a rumor of something called the "Gray Curtain". This sounds very much like GraySpace. Perhaps if I were taken there, I might be able to decipher the mystery of my appearance here, and find a way to return home."

  "I throw myself at your mercy, trusting that your wisdom in these matters will provide me with the answers I seek."

  Arkin stopped speaking and bowed slightly to the High Counselor to indicate that he was finished. The High Counselor nodded almost imperceptibly in return, and stood up to address the council.

  "Do not allow yourselves to be swayed by flattery and a smooth tongue. The Newmer you see standing before you comes to us under unusual circumstances with tales of strange worlds and mythical enemies. His words call into question the fundamental truths that support our society. The very nature of his arrival provides the uneducated populace of our city with an excuse to accept whatever explanation is provided. Worse, if the people refuse to accept the explanations he offers, they might be tempted to make up their own. Heresies could flourish and abound. The consequences of this cannot be predicted. We must put this Newmer's lies to rest, and do it in such a way that all will be satisfied, and none will be tempted to think on it further. Only in this way can we guarantee the security of our city."

  "After much grave deliberation in this matter, I have come to a difficult conclusion. This man is obviously an agent of some malevolent force, sent to sow discord among us. His claims of innocence cannot be supported by the facts surrounding his appearance in our city. He must be dealt with swiftly and without mercy in order that others who wish us ill might know that if they act against us, they do so at their own peril. It is my decision that tomorrow at High Sun, this Newmer be hung in a public execution for crimes against society."

  Arkin was shocked by this pronouncement. He'd expected distrust from these people, but nothing like this. After a moment, he had enough presence of mind to realize that he had an opportunity here. If as he suspected there were members of the council who did not support the High Counselor wholeheartedly, now was the time when their real feelings might be visible. He quickly scanned the sea of faces for evidence to support his hypothesis. He was disappointed when he saw none. It seemed that he was doomed. His situation reminded him of an old phrase that his grandmother had once used.

  "Out of the frying pan, into the fire," she used to say. That was exactly how he felt.

  As he was considering once more the irony of his situation, two guards appeared and motioned for him to follow them. He briefly considered attempting to make a run for freedom, but thought better of it almost immediately. Where would he go? He knew no one in this world. He considered drawing his firearm and demanding his freedom, but these people probably wouldn't be much impressed by that. It was apparent that this place had never developed any weapons based on advanced technology. He wondered if that was because the laws of physics were somehow different here. He'd looked for any kind of manifestations of energy similar to what he'd grown accustomed to on his space station, but so far Arkin had not seen anything that would make him think his weapon would work here.

  The guards here had always been content to let him keep his firearm, and these two were no exception. He allowed them to escort him out without protest. They led him out a different door than the one through which he'd entered. He followed them down a long corridor to an area he had not seen before. Eventually, the guards led him through a kitchen to a small doorway. They motioned for him to go through first, and he discovered a downward flight of stairs on the other side. At the bottom, there was a row of small cells, not unlike the brig on his star base. The guards took him to the end of the row and opened up the cell there for him. When he stepped inside, they locked the cell behind him and disappeared back up the flight of stairs without a word.

  It was very dark, but after a moment, Arkin began to make out shapes in the dim light that filtered through a small slit high up in the ceiling. He could see a small bench against the wall that looked like it might be intended for a bed. He waited anxiously for several hours for an interrogation that never came. Eventually, when the light from the ceiling faded to darkness, he allowed himself to feel some relief. Apparently, there were some differences between this world and his world after all. It seemed that here, at least, they were not in the habit of interrogating their prisoners. He laid down on the bench and tried to sleep, hoping that he would not be awakened suddenly in the middle of the night, and wondering what new twists of fate the next day would bring.