It was 24:45. The world outside Cris' window was dark. Only the glow from Tararia's two moons, Aeris and Denae, illuminated the sky.

Dressed in plain street clothes, Cris gathered his provisions. Only a select few knew the electronic frequencies needed to illuminate the normally invisible identifying Dynastic Mark on his arm or read his imbedded ID chip, so all he needed to do was blend in. If he looked the part, he could become anyone he wanted.

Cris was accustomed to slipping out to walk the gardens in the middle of the night, but never had the stakes been so high. They'll put me on complete lockdown if I'm caught leaving. No second chance.

He crept from his quarters into the corridor. As a precaution, he reset the door's electronic lock so there would be no record of what time he left. He peered into the dimmed hallway. Clear. He ventured toward the nearest exit. The security system reboot was still five minutes away, set for 24:50 and scheduled to take twenty minutes. To avoid triggering alarms in the meantime, he used the less monitored servant passageways. He encountered no one, to his relief, and was soon outside.

Cris broke into a light jog along the main path that ran the length of the mansion. He made it no more than ten meters when he caught sight of a surveillance light. Hide!

He dove off the path into some bushes. The branches scraped at his bare face and hands, but he found a hollow within the foliage. He quickly retrieved a scrambler from the front pocket of his travel bag and activated the device; it should be enough to throw off the guard's sensors. He checked the time on his watch: 24:52. It was within the reboot window for the central system. He would be fine as long as he stayed out of sight.

Cris nearly held his breath as the guard approached. He could make out the armored form through the leaves, made more imposing under the moonlight. The guard was walking slowly, inspecting a handheld. He stopped in front of Cris.

Stars! Cris' heart raced. He stayed motionless, barely breathing.

The guard tapped the screen on his handheld a few times, then muttered something under his breath. After another minute, he continued strolling down the path in the direction Cris had come from.

Cris breathed a sigh of relief. When the guard was well past, he carefully extracted himself from the bushes and looked around to make sure no other guards were nearby. No one else was in sight. He smoothed his hair and brushed off a couple of leaves that had affixed to his jacket.

Cris returned to the path and resumed jogging toward the ship port. Excitement welled up in his chest, but he kept it at bay. I'm not free yet.

He reached the port at 24:57. Half a dozen shuttles occupied a paved area amid the foliage of the grounds. Each craft was approximately six meters long, with streamlined aerodynamics specifically designed for breaking through the planet's atmosphere.

Cris was about to enter the port when he spotted a figure in the small shelter used by port attendants during the day. He froze. There wasn't supposed to be anyone there overnight. His entire plan rested on using an automated kiosk to check out the shuttle under his guard alias. Needing to interact with a person changed everything.

He bit his lower lip, thinking. I can't turn back now. Seeing no other option, he strode confidently into the port and headed straight for the kiosk. He kept his face oriented away from the shelter.

The kiosk was dangerously close to the building, and it didn't take long for the attendant to rouse.

"What may I do for you?" the attendant asked.

Cris kept his head turned to the side so the attendant couldn't see his face. I have every reason to be here. I'm in control. "Official business," he said, faking a deeper voice. "You can verify my credentials on your own screen."

The attendant crossed his arms. "I'd like to see some ID."

Don't panic. Cris continued walking toward the kiosk with feigned assurance. "And I'd like to report you to your supervisor for impeding an official investigation. I don't think you want that on your performance record so close to review time."

"Your ID, sir," the attendant requested again.

Cris reached the kiosk. "I'll get it, hold it." Before the attendant could protest, Cris brought up his shuttle reservation in a few quick taps. He entered the access key for his guard alias. "There, satisfied?"

The attendant glanced at the authorization on the screen inside the shelter. "It checks out." He seemed unsure.

"So, do I need to have that chat with your supervisor?" Cris turned toward his assigned shuttle.

"No, sir," the attendant said. "Have a good night."

Cris let out a slow breath as he set off toward his shuttle. We really need better security.

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