"Don't tell me you've been plaguing our alien guest with your awful attempts at creativity," Hissar joked. "If you want to see real art, I'll take you to the Lasher-Lensha Gallery sometime."

"Thanks, but we've been discussing more than art," Sophia mentioned, as Hissar sat down in a chair across for her. "I'm particularly fascinated by this singular religion of yours, and its ties to your government."

"You mean the Hierarchy," Hissar mentioned, folding his hands over his lap.

"Yes. Nester mentioned something about all of your governments being appointed by this Hierarchy?"

"Well, in a sense. All our monarchs are reviewed and anointed by the Hierarchy, and all respect the law, as set down by God in ancient times. Do your leaders not also obey the will of God in such a way?"

"My people have differing points of view on the concept of God, and each individual is free to worship however they deem fit."

"Seems a bit chaotic," Hissar commented with distaste.

"It sounds great," Nester rebutted enthusiastically.

"You know what would really sound great? A fresh steak, that's what," Hissar said. "I haven't had a decent meal all day."

"Neither have I," Sophia added.

"I'm afraid my food supplies are limited," Nester replied.

"Not to worry, old friend. You know I never ask for a handout," Hissar said, digging into his jacket. Removing a small pouch from his chest pocket, he shook out several small coins. "These should buy the best on Market Street."

"Hissar, you know I'm not one for a handout, either," Nester replied, reluctant to take the money.

"Nonsense. You'll be doing the leg work, and cooking the meal. It's only fair you be compensated for that."

Nester reluctantly took the coins and stuffed them into his pants.

"Here, take my car," Hissar said, digging out his keys. "I don't trust that motorbike contraption of yours."

"It's broken, anyway," Nester replied, taking the keys. "I'll be back in half an hour. Don't try to bore our guest too much while I'm gone."

"Impossible!" Hissar said boisterously.

Nester headed out to purchase the food supplies necessary for a truly delicious meal, hoping the meat and spices were something Sophia could eat.

The drive to the market was slow, with heavy traffic on the roads, and the market was packed with shoppers purchasing edibles. It took him all of an hour to get decent steaks, but by the time he was headed back the traffic had diminished.

As Nester stepped from the car in front of his home, a drizzle began to dampen the ground, and Nester's scant clothing. It was quite warm for this time of year, and the verbal parley with his alien visitor had left him exhilarated. He hadn't felt this healthy in months, and it made him completely forget about his scale-rot problem.

Nester turned the knob of his door, only to find it locked. Strange, he thought. Feeling a little awkward, he unlocked his door with a flick of his claw and stepped into his dry abode, removing his wet t-shirt as he entered.

Throwing his damp shirt to the floor, Nester realized more was amiss. Everything was quiet, and the lights were out. There were no signs of life within the house.

Hitting the light switch as he jumped into the living room, Nester looked around and saw Sophia's overcoat lying on his couch, its heavy pockets still full of her strange equipment. Rushing over to the kitchen, he found nothing out of place at first glance. However, after close inspection, he found a chef's knife lying half-hidden under the fridge, its edge stained with a thick streak of fresh blood.

Nester checked the last place Sophia and Hissar could be lurking, inside his bedroom. There, he found no one, and nothing was out of place. His round nesting bed was still neatly made, as he left it each morning, and his clothing cabinets appeared untouched.

He wasted no time phoning Hissar's home, wondering if the good Doctor and Sophia had sneaked out on him for some reason.

After a few rings, Haushina answered the phone with her usual uplifting tone.

"Haushina, it's Grior's friend, Nester. Is he by any chance at home?"

"No," Haushina replied, her kind tone quickly turning sour. "I expected him to be out slumming with you tonight. That is what he generally does when he's out late."

"Madam, we never slum," Nester replied with distaste. "When did you last hear from him?"

"He called me from work almost two hours ago, telling me he would be running late due to some lame excuse. A special patient, or a business dinner; something of that sort. Why? Has he gotten into some sort of trouble?"

"I don't know," Nester replied, feeling nervous.

"There's something you're not telling me," Haushina said. "Does this have something to do with that space creature he was speaking about last night?"

"He told you about that?" Nester said, surprised.

"He told me that he encountered a creature from outer space. He didn't tell me you were involved. What have you two been up to?"

"Nothing, really," Nester said, his voice trembling. "Listen, could you tell Grior to give me a call when you see him?"

"I'll tell him you called," Haushina said, slamming the receiver down.

The hours dragged on, as Nester sat, waiting to hear the phone ring, or a knock at the door. He couldn't imagine Hissar and Sophia had run out on their own. What could have forced them to leave?

Strange thoughts of alien conspiracies and secret government agencies filled Nester's speculative head, leaving him digging through his shirt drawer for a revolver. The small, five shot pistol would no doubt be of little help against highly technological aliens, but it put his mind at ease a little to hold onto the great equalizer.

As eager as he was to go out and do something, start some kind of search, he realized there was nothing he could do at the moment. The best thing to do was sit back and wait.