Oreus felt sweat dropping from his brow. Two hours ago, he had been summoned to the Shelbo Hotel, the height of luxury for this layer, despite the damp walls, for a meeting with the Governor.

But now he was face-to-face with Bidget, her eyes bulging. She was at the opposite end of a round table in a large rectangular room. And worse, his battle chair was only lightly armed.

All he had to do was move his head a little to the left, and the battle would begin.

A sound of chatter, and the motors of battle chairs came from the four entrances. He knew them; they were the leaders of the other teams.

Brigid spoke, her voice full of venom. “It is a Gathering. Do not fire.”

Oreus nodded his agreement. A Gathering of the various teams was rare, and they were only held in the most extenuating of circumstances. Usually, though, they are held with much fanfare. Not in secret, and not like this.

Sure enough, the other team or tribal leaders appeared.

Auros, with a long white beard, went to Oreus’ left. He was short an ear that he had lost in battle a long time ago. He had clasped hands, and a curved spine like Timothy’s.

Derek smiles. “It sounds and smells lovely but what’s a rasher?”

Jessica laughs. “Oh, that be bacon to the likes of you.”

“Smashing, where’s Maeve?” Derek asks.

“Ah, she went out walking. To clear the head. Have you any plans for the day? I’m sure you have plenty of thinking to do.”

Nodding, Derek replied, “Yes, I have a lot to think about. I’m going to head over to the ship, make sure it is fully operational. And then, how to make some money?”

She places her hands on the table. “Remember, the two of you are not alone. You have support here. Don’t forget.”

Satiated, Derek later heads outside. For a moment, he pauses. It is a totally different sensory experience to being on the moon. The clouds drifting in the sky, the wind blowing through the grass and the smell of the sea in the air. Maeve was nowhere to be seen.

He drives his wheelchair forward over the stony surface down the winding lanes to the ship. It looks totally out of place.

The ramp deploys as he approaches. He looks around before heading straight to the control panel.

His presence turns on all the lights and computer analysis.

Sweat dripped from Audrey’s brow. She looked at those that remained around her, Olsen, and Jack. They were in the Fianna hall,

Will any of them survive the next battle?

They had spent the whole day exploring different weapons and tactics to use against the Gargantuan.

Timothy retreated to rest some time ago, and Caoimhne followed. She knew that she was on her way to his room, but tried not to think about it. The thought of facing the Gargantuan was enough. The others followed to their beds soon after.

“You okay, Audrey?” It was Jack, giving her a warm smile. She found him to be a welcome addition to the team, however long or short that might be.

“Good, cos we kind of need you at the top of your game. Like, you’re definitely one of our best fighters,” he said with a wry smile.

“I’m fine,” she replied in a loud, firm tone.

“I think she’s jealous,” Olsen said with a wide grin.

“What are you on about?” she replied, shaking her head. “You should both be concentrating on the task in hand, not concerning yourselves with me.

“He likes you, I can tell,” Olsen continued.

“Whatever.” Audrey rolled her eyes. “What weapon is next?”

Derek awakens to the sound of pattering as rain hits his bedroom window. For a moment, he rests and ponders the splendid magnificence of it all. The great hydrological cycle of the Earth, the life giver. Back in the lunar days, it had all seemed like such a strange and improbable process. And yet here he was now listening to water hitting against his window that had come from the sky as if conjured up by some strange God.

And then there was the light, flickering in through the window after a million or more long journey. So much for him to do and see today on this first day on this small island. There is a smell of bacon and toast wafting into his room.

As if I needed any more motivation to get up.

The room was smaller than he was used to, which made his maneuvers more difficult. He struggles saying under his breath that the gravity feels stronger here despite what the lunar technicians had previously told him.

Fully dressed and in his wheelchair, he exits his bedroom and enters the hive of activity that is the kitchen.

Jessica smiles. “Aye boy, wha’ wud ya like? Some rashers and sausages, maybe?”