By the time they'd returned to the building where they'd slept, Captain Marshall and his group had arrived, exhausted but with renewed excitement.

Lydia helped get them settled with food and brought them all up to speed while Colonel Patterson called a meeting in the upper level.

"I really think I should be coming with you to the light side, Colonel," Ethan said as they waited for the others to come up the stairs. He couldn't explain why without receiving a sharp reprimand and possible battlefield demotion, and maybe he didn't need to. No one else was noticing the shifts in the colonel's thinking.

Perhaps just being in the sunlight again would correct whatever imbalance he was imagining.

Colonel Patterson shook his head and put a hand on Ethan's shoulder. "No, Griff, I really need you here. This gray, that council, they're the ones really running this place. If I leave Captain Marshall here on his own, he'll have us agreeing to God knows what and bringing every fleet ship here without a second thought. Now maybe these people aren't hiding anything, but maybe they are. I know you can find that out. And this is still a Marine operation. I need a commander here, and that's you."

Ethan heard footsteps coming up stone steps and knew his argument was over. He nodded. "You'll stay in contact?"

"Regularly," Patterson agreed. "I'll want nightly updates, and I'll keep you apprised of the situation on the light side."

Captain Marshall stepped through the doorway then, followed by Commander Ellis, Doctor Theron and two technicians Ethan couldn't recall the names of.

"I have good news, Colonel," Doctor Theron said with a wide smile.

"It's about damn time," Patterson replied. "Take a seat, people."

Ethan sat at the table and noticed Doctor Theron wasn't just smiling, he was beaming. Captain Marshall looked tired, but also excited and maybe even a little relieved.

"We've managed a code that should override the fleet's onboard computers," Doctor Theron exclaimed. "Or, well, we believe we have. Clearly we can't just test it to find out for sure, what with there being no fleet ship here to use."

"But they're confident that they'll be able to send a message," Captain Marshall added. "We just need to work out a delivery system, but we can build that with the equipment we salvaged from the Solaria."

"You can?" Ethan asked. "Have you worked out positioning and timing yet?"

"Frank," Doctor Theron looked at one of his techs.

"Well, not exactly," the man replied. "But I believe we can. You see, we've been studying the stars, and timing their spin around the sky in the dark side. Then we measure the distance between the point where the sky begins to lighten and the sun actually touches the horizon, and that will help us determine a general size of this planet. Coupled with what we believe our position must have been relative to this world when we dropped out of light speed, I -- that is we -- we think we can narrow down a window of opportunity."

"It'll be narrow," Doctor Theron added. "We have it down to perhaps a day, exactly five weeks from now, but that window could close to a few hours as we get more data."

"Five weeks?" Colonel Patterson glared at Captain Marshall. "You said we had seven."

Captain Marshall nodded, nonplussed by the outburst. "And I explained that was a close estimation. The techs are still pulling information from the databases, but it's tough going. We have come closer, however, and believe we have five weeks left before the first fleet ship will make the jump and be gone."

Ethan closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath.

"Well, then," Patterson slapped the table with his palms. "That should give me enough time to make a determination."

"Determination?" Marshall asked. "What the hell is there to determine, Patterson? If we can contact the fleet, then we have a duty to do just that."

"You'd bring our people here even if you didn't know it was safe?"

"We know it's livable!"

Ethan noticed the three scientists flinch as the two titans at the table collided with authoritative tones. He glanced at Commander Ellis, who was rubbing his forehead.

"Those fleet ships are Navy territory, or have you forgotten chain of command?"

"I haven't forgotten that we're on the soil of an alien world, with thousands of lives at stake!" Patterson bellowed.

"Nor have I!" Marshall countered. "But right now there are hundreds of thousands of lives in space, dependant on the Navy for their survival and safe arrival."

"To planet 581c!" Colonel Patterson pounded the table with a fist. "Dammit, Marshall. If you're thinking you can take command of this expedition --"

"Not this expedition, Patterson! The secondary, larger one!"

"Gentlemen," Ethan kept his voice quiet. "I think it's important to remember that for the purposes of this meeting, we're not just Marines and Navy, we're a group of people making a decision that could affect the future of the human race." He looked at them in turn. "Preferably an informed decision."

Colonel Patterson sniffed, clearly assuming Ethan had just agreed with his point. "Indeed, that's my intent. That we have the information at hand to create an informed decision. But in order to do that, we need more information. I'm traveling to the light side tomorrow, along with my squad and a few of the white coats." He glanced at Doctor Theron. "No offense."

Ethan noticed the man shrug as if he knew it really didn't matter one bit if he'd been offended or not.

"Fine," Captain Marshall relented. "But this matter is not closed. Not by a long shot. I'm still moving forward with the notion that we're going to contact the fleet ships, override their onboard computers, and direct them here." He jabbed the table to make his own point clear. "If we do discover information that precludes that from being a proper course of action, then we can alter our message to simply one of informing them in regards to our fate."

"I can accept that," Colonel Patterson said dismissively. "Now, as I've said, tomorrow I'll be traveling to the light side with my squad. Major Griff will remain here, in command," he emphasized. "And will be reporting to me every twenty four hours. His mission will be to evaluate these people, and their council, and make a determination of his own. I'll trust you to make sure your people don't reveal too much."

Captain Marshall straightened slightly in his seat. "My people are well aware of protocol, Colonel. And the civilians have been conducting themselves just fine so far."

Colonel Patterson grunted. "Just see that they continue to do so. We can't tip our hand, not if there's any chance at all that we might learn something about this world we might need to deal with."

"So you believe we have five weeks?" Ethan asked Frank. "And we'll be able to send a message that will be received by the fleet ships, not ignored?"

"Yes, we believe so, yes," Frank replied. "We still have to work on the program itself, but we've got the gist of the thing down. If we're staying here?"

"Yes, we'll be staying here in this area, with Major Griff," Captain Marshall assured. "You can bring your equipment inside and spend all the time you need working on it." He turned to Colonel Patterson. "We have been assured a safe place to stay, correct?"

"As far as we can tell, that's correct," he replied. "They've assured me you can all stay here as long as you like."

"Fine," Captain Marshall stood. "In that case, I need some sleep." He turned and left the room without another word, and the others followed, clearly grateful to be finished with the meeting and putting some distance between themselves and the glowering stare of Colonel Patterson.

"We don't need more enemies, John," Ethan said quietly as soon as they were alone. "Marshall's looking out for his people, and his command."

"The man's a twit," Patterson snorted. "But he's a good officer, I'll give him that. He's right to be concerned with the fleet ships. It's the one thing driving all of us right now. Determining how safe this world is happens to be my main priority, too." He stood and began pacing slowly around the room, rubbing his chin. "There's nothing I want more than to bring those ships here, Griff. Nothing. But I won't risk them if there's a chance this place is hiding something. Sure, they seem like nice people. But right now they're putting their best face forward, just like we are."

Ethan would have had to turn around to look at the colonel as he spoke, but he chose not to. "Yes, I'm sure they are. But putting your best face forward doesn't necessarily mean you're doing so to hide your real face. Is it possible these people are hiding something? Sure. I'd be a fool, and a lousy Marine, if I didn't keep that in mind."

Colonel Patterson let out a snort as he paced.

"But I'd be just as remiss if I didn't consider the fact that they might just be exactly what they seem. That this world might be exactly as perfectly suited for us as it seems."

"That's why I need you here, Griff," the colonel said. "You're keeping an open mind, using your head. You want to believe, but you're still a Marine to the core. I need you here, digging deeper, because I know you're capable of doing that without tipping anyone off. They open up to you, maybe without even realizing it."

Ethan looked at his hands as they rested on the table, and wished he had a cup of Pyro's tea just then.

"Exploring the light side is going to be a cake walk. We'll have people showing us the way, so we're not likely to be attacked by some hulking beast in the woods or anything." He stopped pacing and stood beside the table, looking at Ethan. "I swear, if we can bring your sister here and ensure her safety, I'll make damn sure that happens."

Ethan swallowed the lump that formed instantly in his throat. "I hope so, sir."

"Now, I'm ordering some down time. Why don't you go for a walk, relax. We've got a few hours before the evening meal. Then we'll all get a good night's sleep and get down to the business of really getting to know this place."

Ethan nodded, then pushed himself up and away from the table. "Yes, sir." He hesitated for a moment, considering what he should really do, then unclipped his rifle and removed his vest. With a side arm in a holster on his right hip, he went down the winding stair case and stepped outside, taking in a deep breath of the fresh, clean air.

He paused, then decided on a route around the marketplace and into the open park area where he'd seen a small river and benches from their upstairs view. There were people walking along the paths, but not as many as he would have expected in a busy market. Back home, the available living space was jam-packed with citizens availing themselves of what little habitable land still existed. Cities were overcrowded and messy, while vast open spaces of charred earth and unusable farmland went completely unoccupied.

To move around a market area without having to elbow your way along was a treat, and he was enjoying it.

There were vendors selling fabrics, while others sold tailored clothing. Booths stocked with fruits next to a man selling intricately designed knives and small daggers. Next to him a woman offered bundled tubers and bins of round edibles, a few of which Ethan recognized from the meals Eferia's people had generously provided them earlier.

Everyone he passed offered a nod or smile. Several took a second glance once they realized he was one of the strangers come to visit their world from afar, but no one stopped him to ask questions or intruded on his wanderings.

It seemed to him there was a near perfect balance in the market area of those with pale skin and black eyes from the dark side to the blonde haired, white-eyed members of the light half of the world. The market had integrated them in a pattern, but Ethan did notice when he saw small groups chatting or couples walking together along the walkways, they were grouped according to their obvious origins.

After a while, he changed course and found the park, taking a flat level pathway that wound through tall grasses and flowering bushes alongside the small, slow moving river. There were benches every ten feet or so, and the occasional couple enjoying a rest and quiet conversation.

As Ethan rounded a rather tall, flowering shrub, he glanced up and saw Ara walking toward him. Her gray robes from earlier that day were gone, as was the crossbow strapped around her back. She was more simply dressed in white pants, a white tunic that wrapped around her athletic frame, and a twist-blade dagger strapped to her belt.

"You are exploring our gardens?" She asked, smiling as she approached.

"It's lovely here," he replied. "Very quiet and peaceful."

Ara beamed proudly. "Yes, it is. I come here to have quiet time, and to consider matters that need thought."

"I don't mean to disturb you." He began to take his leave, but she touched his arm.

"No, I am not disturbed. I would be happy to walk with you, if you like."

Ethan nodded. "I'd like that."

She turned and started back down the path at a casual pace. "Do you have gardens like this on your world?"

"No, nothing like this," he said. "Not for a long time. Our world is -- very tired." He chose his words as carefully as he could, hoping it didn't appear as if he was. "It's very old, and for a time we had so many people that we'd begun to run out of room."

Ara's eyebrows arched in surprise. "So many people?" She shook her head. "I cannot imagine that many peoples in the world, that you would run out of room for them."

"It took thousands and thousands of years for that to happen," Ethan replied. "And that was many hundreds of years before I was born."

Their path had turned back toward the main street, and Ara motioned for them to walk toward the market area again.

"I would like to sit and learn more, if you would like?"

"Yes, I would." He glanced up and realized they were walking toward one of the cafes, where tables and chairs were set around a courtyard overlooking a pond bubbling with water and floating plants. Each table held a bowl of round fruits, about the size of his fist, with a flower resting on top.

"Please, sit," Ara said when she found a table she liked next to the pond. "I shall bring us refreshment."

Ethan took a seat, intending to study the pond and floating greenery, but instead found himself watching her as she approached a bar inside the café and spoke with a man there.

Her hair, he'd decided, wasn't so much blonde as it was nearly white, and shimmered nicely in the twilight that encompassed them all. The tan skin of all the lightsiders also helped to set off the unusual hair color as well as their white eyes. When she came back, carrying two tall goblets, he was taken by the graceful way she navigated the tables and other patrons.

"This is Garon fruit with Alter," she cautioned as she set a goblet down in front of him. "I have no more decisions to make this day."

Ethan raised his goblet and Ara held hers up, smiling.

"To the end of decisions for the day," he said in toast.

The fruit juice was just as thick and flavorful, but there was an added kick that tingled his tongue slightly and left an enjoyable burn in his throat after he swallowed. It didn't seem any more violent than the alcohols he was used to, but he decided it would be prudent to drink cautiously until he knew what effect Alter would have.

"I am curious," Ara asked as she set her goblet on the table. "Your world, you said that it is both light and dark, in the same places?"

Ethan nodded. "I did, and it is." He picked up one of the round fruits in a bowl on their table. It was purple, with bumpy, knotted skin, but had a definite top and bottom marked by the pattern of bumps. "You see, our world is tilted, like this." He adjusted the fruit in his hand accordingly. "And it rotates this way, while moving around the sun." Using the bowl as the sun, Ethan moved the fruit around. "So to us, the sun appears to rise, move across the sky, and then set every day. We use that motion to tell time, count the hours that pass and the days, and measure our lives by it."

Ara was watching, listening intently to everything he said, as were the people in the nearby tables who were overhearing and drawn with curiosity.

Ethan turned the fruit another direction. "Your world is not tilted, and moves in this way around the sun, keeping this part always toward the sun, and this part always away." He moved the fruit around the bowl again. "So the sun doesn't move from one horizon to the other, it simply rolls around in a circle in your sky."

"And we are here, in the gray." Ara pointed to the center of the fruit as Ethan was passing it around the bowl. "Where there is neither darkness or sun."

"Yes," he agreed. "We call that the equator. You call it the gray. It's the movement of your planet that keeps it separated perfectly in half, never changing."

Ara rested her elbows on the table and shook her head slowly. "I cannot imagine a world where the sun came and went, for everyone. What an interesting thing that would be."

"It's hard for my people to imagine world like yours." He set the fruit back down and the small audience seemed to realize they'd been eavesdropping and looked away. "Where I'm from, on my world, there are times when the sun doesn't come up for weeks, and times when it barely sets. But no where on our planet does the sun remain in the sky always, or the sky remains black."

"To us, this is the way of life," Ara said with a slight shrug.

Ethan sipped the Garon juice again, enjoying the tingling sensation in his mouth.

"Your eyes are a very unusual color," Ara said.

He looked at her, a little surprised by the remark.

Ara pointed to her own. "They are light brown. Here we have only white, like mine, or black like the others."

"My people have several colors," Ethan said with a slight grin. "Light brown, like mine, or dark brown. There are also blue, and green, and some that seem to be in between and hard to describe. But yours, they're very beautiful," he said. "No one on my world has white eyes, like yours."

Ara smiled a bit shyly and ran a finger over the rim of her goblet. "I like your light brown, very much."

"Thank you." Ethan raised his goblet and took another drink. He'd realized, as he was glancing around at the other patrons enjoying the café, that there'd be no way he could be mistaken for a native. His dark hair suggested a darksider, but his naturally tan skin was in keeping with those of the light side. And once his eyes were seen, there'd be no mistake.

"Tell me, Ara, is your climate always like this? The temperature is mild, not too hot and not too cold. Does it change?"

"Oh, no, not really," she replied. "The winds will blow heavily at times, and bring thicker clouds, and storms, but it is never so much that we are terribly cold, or terribly hot." She sipped her Garon juice. "When our world was young, and our peoples not so advanced, the sky held many terrible things."

"Superstitions?"

Ara raised an eyebrow.

"Things they didn't understand," Ethan explained. "And would misinterpret."

"Ah, yes," she nodded. "Superstitions. In the light side, many many generations ago, our people believed the sun circled the sky to protect them, and watch over them. But then they wondered what the rest of the world held, so they began walking away from the sun." She leaned forward, resting her arms on the table. "Only the further they walked, the more angry the sun became. Finally, it threatened to leave them, and ran far, far away, but the people kept walking. Then, the sun warned them for the last time, and sat down on the land a great distance away, but the people continued to walk. Then the sun began melting, into the ground. When the people saw this, they begged the sun to return to the sky, and ran toward it to save it from melting away. As they did, the sun recovered, and returned to the sky, then the people promised never to walk away from it again."

Ethan laughed shortly, nodding.

"Of course we know now what was happening, but the ancients did not."

"My people, when they were very young, believed our world was flat," Ethan said. "They believed that if you walked too far, you would come to the end and fall off, into space."

Ara laughed, covering her mouth with long, delicate fingers. "A world that was flat?"

He grinned and nodded. "Yep."

Ara picked up her goblet and raised it in toast. "To enlightenment, and learning new truth."

"To enlightenment."

As they finished their drinks, Ethan saw Wingman and Pyro walking back to the building they were staying in. He thanked Ara for the drink and the company, then excused himself to head back and hear what they had to say.

When he got up the long staircase, the men were just sitting down for a meal with Captain Marshall. They looked up, nodding at Ethan when he came in.

"Colonel Patterson?" he asked, looking at Marshall.

"Asleep," the captain replied. "He wants to get an early start in the morning."

Ethan quietly breathed out a sigh of relief. Maybe it was the lack of sun after all, compounded by the lack of sleep the stress of the darkness had caused. He sat at the far end of the table where his men were eating. "What did you see out there?"

"A damn fine little city, you ask me," Pyro said around a mouthful of meat. "Neat little rows of buildings, and loads of those houses like in the village. Plus parks."

"Yeah, lots of parks, like that one over there," Wingman pointed toward the windows on the far wall. "They like to take walks and sit on the benches. A guy could get used to that pretty quickly."

"How far did you get?" Ethan asked.

"Well, the opposite wall is three miles that way," Pyro pointed away from them. "So this gray area is three miles wide, but we were able to walk ten miles without coming to an end that way, and someone we asked said that it continues until the mountains get in the way. Not sure about the other direction, but I got the impression it went on until more mountains got in the way."

"Yeah, but thing is, Major, it's like a ghost town the further you go," Wingman added. "There's markets all along the sides like here, but the further along you get they open up more, like bigger, you know? They're selling massive bundles of what looked like wheat, or huge carts build from wood. Things that require more space."

"How much of a ghost town?" Captain Marshall asked. "Did you get an idea of the population here?"

Pyro nodded. "Yes, sir. I'd guess there's maybe a couple thousand in this entire gray area, tops."

Ethan blinked. "A couple thousand?"

"That's right," Wingman agreed. "You see house after house but no one livin' in them, and loads of buildings that are obviously empty. Plus we were told that only the council live here permanently. The others, the ones who sell their stuff, they come and go, staying for weeks or months at a time but then leaving. Even the people who run those little café areas, they stay for a while, then go back to their villages or families."

"Why would they have so many buildings and homes without a population to use them?" Captain Marshall mused as he rubbed his chin. "Unless they're anticipating growth?"

"Or surviving loss," Ethan offered. He leaned forward, both arms on the table as everyone looked at him. "If their war didn't start until both sides had achieved large populations, but continued for generations -- hundreds and hundreds of years -- it stands to reason both sides would have suffered great losses. Eventually, if peace wasn't reached, they would have found themselves on the brink of extinction." He shrugged. "Maybe that's exactly what happened. They've been so violently decimated in number, they finally realized peace was their only future."

Captain Marshal nodded and crossed his arms. "That would explain the large, mostly empty village, and this gray with far more room than the people need. Although it's my understanding they only came to occupy this area when they ended their war."

"Yes, that's what they said," Ethan agreed. "It's something I'll try and get answered, while the others are exploring the light side."

"We're finally getting to see the sun?" Pyro asked hopefully.

Ethan gave a curt nod and sat back with a sigh.

"Hot damn, that'll be a sight for sore eyes." Pyro nudged Wingman, who shook his head.

"I dunno, I like it here."

"Good, 'cause you're staying here with me," Ethan replied.

Pyro laughed shortly and continued eating.

"That's fine with me, sir," Wingman said. "I like this spot."

"Any word on sending a message to the fleet, Captain?"

"As a matter of fact, Pyro, there is news," Marshall replied. "Good news, in fact. My technicians believe they can get into the computers onboard the fleet ships and override their directives. We'll just have to finalize the program, and build a transmitter, then send the message within the window of opportunity."

"How's Colonel Patterson feel about that?" Wingman asked Ethan in a quiet voice.

Ethan took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "That'll be up to us to help him determine. We're staying here and getting to know these people, making sure everything really is what it seems. If it's safe, and the natives welcome it, we'll send the message."

Both Wingman and Pyro breathed sighs of guarded relief, then concentrated on their meals.

Ethan stood and walked to the far window where he could gaze out over the marketplace below. As Captain Marshall approached, he stood up a little straighter.

"I know you're upset, Major," Captain Marshall said in a quiet voice.

"Sir?"

"Staying here, while Patterson visits the light side of this world," Marshall said. He turned around and leaned against the windowsill, looking back at Pyro and Wingman who were out of earshot. "Worried that you won't be there to keep tabs on the Colonel."

"He's my commanding officer."

"At ease, Griff," Marshall said. "I'm not blind, or as ignorant as Patterson might want to believe. Yes, he's been acting a bit odd lately. And for a time, I was beginning to worry myself. But I believe, honestly, it was a lack of daylight. And you can't deny the stress everyone's been under, yourself included."

Ethan shifted a little. "The Colonel's used to stress, sir. As am I."

"And you handle yourself like a damn fine officer," Captain Marshall replied. "No one's going to deny that. But this planet has a way of getting to some of us. The constant darkness, even when your mind is sure the sun should be coming up. Day and night, solid darkness until your body begins to lose its natural rhythm and can't even tell when it's tired." He shook his head. "Doctor Keller warned us of the danger signs, but even he agreed that those of us who felt afflicted would recover quickly once we got closer to the light side of this world." He pointed toward the hallway where the sleeping rooms were. "He's been fine since coming here. He's sleeping and eating regularly, thinking clearly, and planning ahead."

Ethan nodded. "Yes, sir."

"And don't worry about that little tiff earlier," Marshall quipped. "You've seen that a hundred times before. It was just two stubborn bulls locking horns. Both intent on leading their people, their way, confident there was only one way to go about it." He shrugged. "Your standard brass pissing contest."

"I'm sure he's fine, sir," Ethan said with a sniff. "He'll have the squad with him, and an escort."

"You're just upset about not seeing that side of the world first," Captain Marshall slapped Ethan on the back with a short laugh. "You're jealous."

Ethan forced a smile. "Yes, sir, I suppose I am."

"Not to worry," Marshall nodded, confident in his analysis. "I hear that pretty councilwoman fancies you. Before you know it, you'll be the official liaison between our people and these natives."

Ethan raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.

"I'm going to have my people move all of their gear in one of the lower levels here, and I'll oversee the work on the transmitter and signal, along with Commander Ellis. I'd appreciate being kept up to date on your findings throughout our stay."

He nodded. "Yes, sir, you can count on that."

"Very good. Well, have a good night, Major."

"Good night, sir." He watched the captain leave, heading down the stairs, then turned back to his window view.

It was getting late in the work day. Vendors were closing up, walking down the streets toward their homes or heading into cafes for an evening meal. Ethan watched the people from above, noting how some were gathering in friendly groups to chat and eat, while others were striding purposefully off somewhere. It could have been any evening in just about any city back on Earth. Change the setting a little bit, take away the wide walkways and replace them with paved, busy streets. Erase the attractively maintained shop booths with dirty, over-stuffed shops selling neon-colored crap no one really needed. Then increase the population by a few hundred thousand, and the scene below could be anywhere back home.

Only they weren't back home. They were -- where?

>Dammit. He'd forgotten once again to ask someone what they called this world. There had to be a name, but he was dreading having to tell them his was Earth, for fear they'd realize their quaint Starlight greeting was a little odd.

"You two get some sleep," Ethan said as he turned around. "Pyro, you're going out with the colonel first thing in the morning. Wingman, we're going to see them off then get to work."

"Yes, sir," both replied.

"I'm turning in."