The fireball veered from the stargate and landed in the parking lot. Tremon Philippe watched the stargate slowly fold back into its familiar form. Then, from the donut sprinkles burst a quick, powerful series of green pulses that illuminated the San Gabriel Valley skies.

And finally, the lights of the valley returned. The earth gently quivered again.

Tremon looked east and west. He looked north and south—but there was nothing anywhere to find.

“Shizuka? Shizuka?”

Shizuka nodded. She was trembling, but not from pain. The former Queen of Hell coughed, then looked up. There was something different about Lan.

She was plum-colored.

It was cute.

“Where are we?”

“Not too far. Just a little beyond Altair.”

“Tremon?”

Lan shook her head. “Remember when your Tremon kept saying there is nowhere in existence to hide? I realized that was just the bluster of a little demon stuck on a tiny rock. Think about it—we received signals of your performance from space, even when all traces of your music were supposedly erased.

“I think I need to sit down.”

“You’re already sitting down.”

“Oh. So I am. Thank you … for telling me that, at least.”

“I’m sorry that we had to cut it so close, but we needed to wait until after Tremon had formally accepted your soul. That made your loss his responsibility. Any sooner, and he would have declared the contract in default and come for Katrina.”

Shizuka blinked. Yes, that was probably true, but how did Lan know about—

“Wait, all that time I was talking about the contract—you were actually listening?”

The instrument panel beeped.

“We’re getting a transmission—don’t worry, it’s an encrypted channel.”

“What language is it this time?”

“Klingon,” Lan joked as Shirley appeared onscreen.

“Mother, are you well?”

Lan nodded. “A little shaken, but fine. Shirley, did the signal jamming work? And the memory sweep?”

“Yes, Mother. Everything went as we planned. How is the runabout?”

“She’s in wonderful shape. You did a fine job.”

“Thank you, Mother.” The hologram seemed to blush before continuing. “As you directed, I have placed Markus’s matrix in the ship’s infirmary.”

“Good. We’ll return him when we can do so safely. By the way, Shirley, I made you a present. It’s in my quarters.”

“Mother?”

“A hologram nanoprojector. It’s completely self-contained; you can wear it like a pendant. Now Katrina won’t need to lug that awful heavy backpack around whenever you go outside.”

“But Mother, how? The power requirements alone—”

“It uses antimatter.”

“Antimatter?”

“Don’t question it. Just say thank you. And try not to drop it.”

“Yes, Mother! Thank you, Mother!”

“M-Miss Satomi, are you okay? Can you hear me? This is Katrina!”

“I know, dear. I can see you. Yes, I’m fine,” Shizuka said. “The stargate was a little bright, and tingly … but, to be honest, it was kind of fun.”