September 21st, 2024

  Sunlight streamed through the large windows, casting a golden glow across Julia’s office space. The room was cluttered with research papers, maps, and photographs, evidence of their intense expedition. The air smelled faintly of sandalwood and fresh coffee, mingling with the scent of old books and curiosity. Julia sat hunched over her desk, eyes scanning a weathered map of Mohenjo Daro, her fingers tracing the ancient grid lines.

  The door creaked open, and Sam stepped in, his presence a tangible wave of restlessness. “Two days, Julia,” he said, voice tinged with a mix of frustration and disbelief. “It’s been two days since Arion left, and we haven’t heard a word. Maybe he called out his own bluff and realized it wouldn’t work on us.”

  Julia looked up; brow furrowed. “I don’t think so, Sam. He wasn’t being disingenuous.” Her voice was soft but certain, like she was still piecing together a puzzle in her mind. She leaned back, her fingers tapping absently on the desk, her eyes unfocused as if searching for something just out of reach. “It’s not just what he said, it’s how he said it. He seemed... sincere.”

  Sam scoffed, crossing his arms. “Sincere? The man claimed he was from 4500 years ago. He wove a story so wild it could make a fantasy novel look tame. And then he tried to talk us into handing over the crystal.” He paced, the soles of his shoes whispering against the wooden floor. “It’s laughable, Julia. He was probably a con artist who got caught in his own lie.”

  Julia shook her head slowly. “If he was just making it up, why offer to show us his part of the crystal? Why take that risk? Con men don’t play their cards like that, Sam. They play it safe, use the carrot-and-stick approach.”

  Sam stared at her, with an incredulous look “Maybe he hasn’t come back because he doesn’t have a crystal shard to show?”

  “Deep down, you don’t believe that either, Sam,” Julia said softly, calling him out, “you’re counting days since he left because some of what he said made sense to you.”

  Sam looked at her for a second, not sure what to say, “Um. Okay maybe,” he admitted, “But now, I think it’s safe to assume my initial reservations were correct.”

  Julia opened her mouth to respond, but before she could, her phone buzzed on the desk, the screen lighting up with an anonymous number. She exchanged a quick, puzzled glance with Sam, then picked it up. “Hello?”

  A moment’s pause. Then a voice came through, smooth and measured, with a hint of tension beneath it. “Julia, it’s Arion.”

  She looked at Sam as she raised an eyebrow, who immediately leaned closer, his eyes wide. She pressed the speaker button, and the room seemed to hold its breath as Arion’s voice filled the air.

  “I wanted to meet again,” he said, his tone calm but laced with something more, urgency, perhaps. “But I did some digging too, and it turns out you two changed your house recently." He paused for a moment before continuing, "And you were assigned two guards by the government at your arrival, but I counted more than twelve when I was there.”

  Julia’s grip on the phone tightened, she glanced at Sam, who mouthed, "what the hell?"

  Arion continued, his voice steady. “It seems like someone’s backing you, but when I asked, you denied it.”

  Julia took a deep breath. “That doesn’t mean we’re working with anyone, Arion.”

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  “Maybe, but clearly you’re not telling me everything either.” There was an edge to his voice now, a sharpness that cut through the air. “For all I know, you two could already be working with whoever is granting you VIP protection."

  The voice paused to let his accusation sink in, "I tried to find out who owns the mansion you currently are in. Ended up being an ambiguous trail that leads nowhere, just like my trust in you two.”

  Sam clenched his jaw, stepping closer to the phone. “Look, we don’t trust you either. You’re the one who came up with the idea of meeting again. So, you’re backing off now?”

  Arion’s laugh was humorless, a bitter sound. “I’m not backing off, Sam. There are only two ways I see this. You’re either working for someone pulling your strings, or you’re not aware of someone pulling your strings. And if it’s the latter, you’d be stupid not to meet me and get your answers and get to safety.”

  Julia exchanged a look with Sam, who shook his head, disbelief etched on his face.

  “I’m willing to meet regardless,” Arion pressed on, “but it has to be in a neutral setting. Bring your government assigned guards if you’re afraid. The stakes are too high, and if you decide not to come, that’s fine too.”

  Arion’s paused for a moment before he continued, “But remember this, I won’t be asking nicely for the Aether next time I see you two.”

  His voice grew more grave, “Remember, if you’re innocent and you’re not acting now, you’re sitting ducks, waiting for your inevitable deaths.”

  Julia’s heart pounded, each beat echoing in the silence that followed. Arion’s voice dropped, almost a whisper. “I’ll call back in ten minutes with a new number. Think carefully about what you’re going to do.”

  The line went dead.

  Julia stared at the phone in her hand, her mind racing. She looked at Sam, “What the hell are we going to do?”

  Sam ran a hand through his hair, his expression dark and conflicted. “It’s too dangerous, Julia,” he muttered, almost pleading, his eyes searching hers for some semblance of agreement. “We don’t know anything about this guy. He could be setting us up.”

  She nodded slowly, letting his words sink in. She bit her lip, then lifted her eyes to meet his. “Is it less dangerous if we don’t act? What if he’s telling the truth?”

  Sam shook his head, frustration bleeding into his words. “You’re letting him get into your head. That’s exactly what he wants. We can’t trust him.”

  Julia took a deep breath, steadying herself. “But what if he’s not?” she insisted, her voice rising with a mixture of fear and determination. “Dale’s diary. It’s all in there. The warnings, the descriptions, even the parts about people after the crystal.”

  Sam looked torn, his shoulders slumping as he exhaled sharply, like he was trying to blow away the uncertainty that clung to him.

  “What if he is right and we’re just sitting here, waiting for something terrible to happen? We have to make a choice, Sam.” Julia pressed on, desperation edging her tone.

  The phone rang again, the sharp sound slicing through the tense air. Julia flinched as she glanced at the screen. Another anonymous number. Her throat was dry, words stuck in her chest, and she wasn’t sure what she was going to say when she picked up. With a deep breath, she answered, her voice shakier than she wanted it to be.

  “Hello?”

  “It’s me,” Arion’s voice came through, calm but with an undercurrent of urgency. “What have you decided.”

  She glanced at Sam, whose face was a mask of confusion and worry. He looked at her, searching her eyes for answers he didn’t have, then gave a small, almost imperceptible nod.

  Julia turned back to the phone, her grip tightening. “We’ll meet you,” she said, her voice firmer now, more resolved. “But it has to be in a public place. We’ll bring our own guards, the ones the government assigned to us.”

  There was a brief pause on the other end, and she could almost picture Arion weighing her words. “Where?”

  Julia’s mind raced, flipping through the possibilities, Somewhere safe, She thought. Somewhere public and familiar, where they could have some semblance of control.

  Then it clicked, “The Mohen Jo Daro Museum,” she said, each word precise and deliberate. “Five P.M tomorrow.”

  Another pause, longer this time, filled with a tension that seemed to stretch across the phone line. Then Arion’s voice, calm and steady. “I look forward to it.”

  The call ended, and Julia lowered the phone, her pulse still racing. She looked at Sam, who was staring at her, his face a mix of disbelief and resignation.

  “We did the right thing,” she murmured, more to herself than to him, as if trying to convince herself that they hadn’t just made a huge mistake.

  “I hope so,” Sam replied, his voice low, uncertain, as he turned away, leaving her alone with the echoes of their decision.

  ***