He suddenly had an epiphany and remembered the blue-checked apron stuffed carelessly in his satchel. He quickly retrieved it and presented it to the orb like he was peddling kitchen wares. It elicited no response. Everson shook it slightly as if to say, “I have the flaming apron, now what?”

He remembered that he was supposed to spread it on the floor. Apron in one hand, sword in the other, Everson searched beneath him. He’d have a difficult time finding enough space amidst the corpses to suitably spread the apron.

Everson raised both hands and shrugged as if in apology. As counterintuitive as it might seem, he then slowly sheathed his sword. The orb remained motionless as Everson knelt, gingerly moved a few sprawled body parts, and spread the apron on the floor as neatly as his trembling hands would allow.

The young prince stood, his breath shallow, unable to even remotely imagine what might transpire next. Aside, of course, from the very real possibility of his death.

In that moment, it occurred to Everson that he had never said goodbye to his father. His mother, of course, had found a way to send him off with her blessings and prayers. She had reluctantly acquiesced to the wisdom of Commander Giza, who had advised her not to be present at the transport lest Everson’s covert identity be revealed to the rest of the troops. Instead, she had exercised her sovereign privilege and had insisted that Giza grant Everson a day’s furlough to visit the palace. The young prince had welcomed the opportunity to see the queen, though it had often grown uncomfortable with her sudden outbursts of tears contrasted by equally awkward silences.

He had not encountered his father during his stay. Not that he had wanted to. He was sure that Raza had been aware of his presence, but he had stayed absent because of his pride and a desire not to cast doubt on his decision to conscript his own son into the military. Now, Everson regretted the anger that might forever remain the tenor of their parting.

The prince came out of his reverie with a start when he realized that the orb was slowly drifting toward him. He watched in dreaded fascination as the thing floated within an arm’s length of his face. They silently studied each other. Everson had already endowed the silver ball with intelligence, and now he searched the cold electronic eye for any indication of intent. Was it presenting itself to him much as he had presented the apron to it? Everson reached up ever so slowly to grab it.

The orb flitted away from the soldier’s approaching hand as if suddenly coy. It stopped and hovered again, just out of reach. Everson cautiously persisted in his pursuit. This time, the orb zipped laterally, deftly avoiding his hand.

So, this is a game, he thought and grabbed at it more quickly. Like playing with a pet. Up went the orb as if teasing him. Everson frowned at the little silver ball. At least it was showing no signs of retaliation.