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buried halfway into a gargantuan pile of flaming debris and soil. Thankfully, the gangplank was upwind of the fire and the smoke billowed away to the east.

Dirken jumped off the end of the gangplank and landed on the harrowed earth, back on the planet where this all started something like three Earth days before.

Yiorgos and 'TakTrak got to the end and jumped down, then the Corthian checked his map. The hologram was difficult to see in the intense sunlight, but he seemed to understand it and pointed with his plasma flechette rifle toward the forest. "That way," his necklace translated. "March that way. It is not far, but in this jungle it may take longer than we think."

"And where, exactly, are you taking us?" Yiorgos asked.

"Your mother's birthday party," 'TakTrak replied. "She is wondering why you are late."

Yiorgos gave a wry laugh. "Ah, the joke's on you! She doesn't celebrate her birthday." He paused to scramble up the dirt embankment, grimacing as he had to use his burnt hand. "In Greece, most adults celebrate their name day. And she would wring my neck for not helping make the moussaka." He got to the top of the embankment and paused to sit on a tree trunk as 'TakTrak made his way up.

"Grease?" 'TakTrak said. "Is that a cyborg joke?"

Dirken and Yiorgos shared a smile. "Greece is a country name on Earth," the cyborg answered. "My mother is human, but my father was a classic Harley-Davidson Roadster, I forgive your confusion."

'TakTrak reached the top and motioned for them to continue into the forest. "What is a roadster? Is that like a mechanic?"

Both of them chuckled. "Nevermind," Yiorgos answered.

"You didn't answer," Dirken said. "At least tell us what continent we're on."

"This is a place called the Yucatan. I don't know the name of the continent."

Dirken had to stretch his memory a bit, but Yiorgos answered for him. "Central America."

There was no trail to follow, so they pushed their way through the undergrowth. The going was very slow as they wound their way under vines and through thick ferns. Once away from the crash site, the canopy closed in to such an extent that the bright sunlight was reduced to a dusky gloom. Things scurried away in the undergrowth around them and tropical birds trilled, unseen, in the treetops.

"I think your cousins are telling you to let us go," Dirken japed.

"Very funny," 'TakTrak replied. "And I supposed your cousins agree with them?"

Dirken followed his pointing wing and saw a troop of lanky spider monkeys peering down at them from a branch, the whites of their eyes standing out from their black fur. One of them emitted a series of rhythmic whoops, like the cranking of a rusty wheel, and they leaped away through the canopy.

"Touché."

Rounding a low rise, the trio came to more smashed branches, the ground littered with ripped metal, insulating material, and scattered crash debris. Following it, they came to the shattered remains of one of the cargo cubes that had broken loose during the descent. As they watched, the door to the cube fell open and Sugarplum stumbled out, covered with foam bits from the top of her pear-shaped head to her broad toe pads. Her red negligee had been ripped to shreds.

The dazed Rigellian held her head with a red-and-yellow striped hand and moaned in pain. She blinked against the sunlight, looking around at the shattered branches, and then locked eyes with Dirken.

"Oh! Not you!" she exclaimed and ran back into the ruined VIP cube.

Dirken was rather happy she had made it, against all odds.

"Move along!" 'TakTrak commanded and pushed the rifle butt against Yiorgos.

"Don't be so pushy," Yiorgos said.

For hours they walked, and Dirken grew extremely thirsty. None of them had brought water. He and Yiorgos were quickly coated in sweat and breathing heavily. Corthians couldn't sweat, but 'TakTrak's beak was open, exposing his thin, lolling tongue.

Dirken wiped his brow, huffing as he climbed over a log so covered in saplings and bromeliads as to be nearly invisible beneath them. Though he was a Terran, Earth had never seemed like home. Humans may have evolved there, but he had grown up first on an asteroid base, entirely indoors, and then on Tesla, where the climate was more temperate and less variable, the air crisper, and the gravity a bit stronger. There were no jungles on Tesla.

Then Dirken saw an opportunity as he pushed through the undergrowth. A long, slender branch jutted out at face level. He glanced back, making eye contact with Yiorgos and then pointedly looking at the branch as he pulled it back. Yiorgos gave an almost imperceptible nod.

"I guess you like jungles, eh, 'TakTrak?" the cyborg asked, following Dirken into the undergrowth. Dirken pushed forward, bending the branch into an extreme angle.

"Yes," the Corthian replied. "Corthos is a very hot planet with many mountain ranges, going very high, and jungles between. The summits are cold, but below, it is very much like what we…."

Yiorgos abruptly ducked. Dirken let go.

The limb slapped 'TakTrak right across the eyes.

The Corthian shrieked and fired his flechette rifle. The plasma darts went high and wide.

Yiorgos slammed 'TakTrak into a trunk and kneed him in the thigh.

Dirken dropped the Heart and joined the fight. Grabbed the rifle. Wrestled for control.

'TakTrak kicked and flailed, then shut his beak and thrust it forward. The razor-sharp tip sliced across Dirken's right cheek and cut through his right ear. Dirken grabbed the beak and slammed the Corthian's head against the leaf-littered ground. Yiorgos head-butted 'TakTrak, his metallic forehead knocking 'TakTrak into a daze. Dirken yanked the rifle from the Corthian's hands and the duo backed away, barrel pointed at him.

"Any last words, 'TakTrak?" Dirken said.

'TakTrak raised up on his arms and said something, but his translator had been damaged further in the scuffle. His chirrups and trills were translated into the hissing and rasping of the Reptiloc language.

Dirken sighed.

'TakTrak cursed and fiddled with the translator, but the device spat out a dozen words in three different

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