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Maybe this wasn’t appropriate--experimenting on some ancient, mysterious monument at a time like this. Maybe it would’ve been smarter to charter a plane and head over to Intar immediately. Roman could’ve hooked him up quickly, Hector knew.

But the travel concerns were a factor, with much of the public air traffic in Intar being limited or even shut down entirely. They might fly all the way there, only to get told that they have to turn around and go home.

Which was perhaps motivation to simply fly there under his own power, instead. No plane necessary.

But Hector could easily do that if this teleportation attempt didn’t pan out. And he was also hoping to bring along a few other people as backup, not all of whom could fly.

And besides, he had a feeling that this trip could end up taking a while. If it was anything like his trip to Sair, then he might not return for quite some time, meaning that this was his last opportunity to do anything with the Gate here.

Might as well give it a shot, at least.

Roman and Voreese touched down behind him, along with another figure that Roman had been carrying.

That was Nadim Saqqaf, another of Abbas’ many sons. The third youngest, in fact, which made him younger than several of Abbas’ great-grandchildren.

The more Hector had learned about that family, the more confused he felt about who was who.

Nadim, though, had been surprisingly easy to remember, thanks to Garovel deciding to privately nickname him “Meteorite.” Because apparently, that was the name that Worwal had wanted to go with but Abbas overruled him on. And now Garovel just found it too amusing to not use.

One of these times, Garovel was going to accidentally call him that publicly. Hector just knew it.

Either that, or Hector himself would. And then he’d feel like a huge dumbass.

Garovel, meanwhile, was already inside Hector’s armor with him, having decided that he quite liked it in there.

‘It’s like I’m the brain of a robot,’ Garovel had told him privately a while ago. ‘An all-powerful, super intelligent pilot. What’s not to like about that, huh?’

‘So I’m just an unthinking automaton, now?’

‘Don’t think about it that way, buddy. In fact, don’t think at all. Just do as I say, and everything will be fine.’

‘If you’re supposed to be the brain, then why are you inside the breastplate instead of the helmet?’

‘A robot wouldn’t keep its most crucial systems in the least-protected part of its body. I’m where the protection is the strongest.’

‘And where the biggest target is. If I do take a hit, it’s most likely to be in the chest, isn’t it?’

‘Well, I reserve the right to move around as I see fit.’