Planet of Riches Trilogy (Contains: Planet Secrets, Planet Mafia, and Planet of Riches)

By Trisha M. Wilson

***This is ALL 3 BOOKS in the Planet of Riches Trilogy in ONE BIG BOOK***

Contains: Planet Secrets, Planet Mafia, and Planet of Riches

Planet Secrets: *Book 1 of 3 in the Planet of Riches Trilogy*

For someone who’s been in college as long as I have, you’d think I’d be used to people by now. And for the most part I am...until I met Meredith.

Meredith was annoying on too many levels to count and was just too self-centered to live. Not that I had plans on killing her because I didn’t. Instead, I planned to ship her away to a slave planet where she’d spend the rest of her life toiling away in inhumane conditions. Poetic justice as I like to think of it for all she’d ever done to me.

But as I dug into her history, and present, I found out that she was looking for the Planet of Riches, a mystical planet which generations of people have been searching for.

A planet I’d just started searching for.

If that wasn’t bad enough, she was dealing with the Planet Mafia, the biggest and most organized mafia in the universe.

Could I use this association to my advantage or would I end up disappointed?

Would I find the Planet of Riches or end up as lost as all the others who’d searched and found nothing?

What secrets did this planet have just waiting to be revealed?

Planet Mafia: *Book 2 of 3 in the Planet of Riches Trilogy*

The plan to get rid of Meredith went to hell quickly, resulting her escape and disappearance. Any and all efforts to find her had been for naught, increasing the frustration I’d already been feeling.

If that weren’t bad enough, my endless search for the Planet of Riches has led to a dead end, leaving me only one alternative: find another database to continue my search.

With a little digging, I found the Mega Database, which was firmly in the possession of the Planet Mafia, a huge mob I happened to have connections to.

All I had to do was come up with a plan that would convince the Planet Mafia into giving me access and I’d be home free. What could possibly go wrong?

Planet of Riches: *Book 3 of 3 in the Planet of Riches Trilogy*

Dealing with the Planet Mafia was a complete bust ending in me injured and running for my life. A life which was supposed to include another planet and lying low until they forgot all about me, but that was before Ms. Blanc entered the picture.

Ms. Blanc, a filthy rich trillionaire who didn’t take “No” for an answer, wanted me to become her new girlfriend...whether I wanted to or not. While I really wanted to be free, I stayed under her wing long enough to complete my two objectives: learning Meredith’s location and narrowing down the Planet of Riches possibilities to ten.

With these done, I just had to get out from under Ms. Blanc’s thumb, get my revenge on my long time adversary, and finally find the Planet of Riches. It sounded so easy, but I’ve come to learn that nothing was as easy, or uncomplicated, as it first appears. Especially when you’re dealing with the uncertainty of space.

Book in the Trilogy:
Planet Secrets (Book 1)
Planet Mafia (Book 2)
Planet of Riches (Book 3)

• Language: English
• Publisher: Trisha M. Wilson
• Release date: Mar 5, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310040979

Trisha M. Wilson

Trisha M. Wilson lives in Wisconsin. With a degree in History and minors in Math and Business Administration, Ms. Wilson still has no idea what she wants to do with her life. When not regularly contributing on Colbyjack.net, she leads the life of a happy hermit with her three cats and family.

Book preview

Table of Contents

Planet of Riches Omnibus

BOOK 1

Book 1, Chapter 1

Book 1, Chapter 2

Book 1, Chapter 3

Book 1, Chapter 4

Book 1, Chapter 5

Book 1, Chapter 6

Book 1, Chapter 7

Book 1, Chapter 8

Book 1, Chapter 9

Book 1, Chapter 10

Book 1, Chapter 11

Book 1, Chapter 12

Book 1, Chapter 13

Book 1, Chapter 14

Book 1, Chapter 15

Book 1, Chapter 16

Book 1, Chapter 17

Book 1, Chapter 18

Book 1, Chapter 19

Book 1, Chapter 20

Book 1, Chapter 21

Book 1, Chapter 22

Book 1, Chapter 23

Book 1, Chapter 24

Book 1, Chapter 25

Book 1, Chapter 26

Book 1, Chapter 27

BOOK 2

Book 2, Chapter 1

Book 2, Chapter 2

Book 2, Chapter 3

Book 2, Chapter 4

Book 2, Chapter 5

Book 2, Chapter 6

Book 2, Chapter 7

Book 2, Chapter 8

Book 2, Chapter 9

Book 2, Chapter 10

Book 2, Chapter 11

Book 2, Chapter 12

Book 2, Chapter 13

Book 2, Chapter 14

Book 2, Chapter 15

Book 2, Chapter 16

Book 2, Chapter 17

Book 2, Chapter 18

Book 2, Chapter 19

BOOK 3

Book 3, Chapter 1

Book 3, Chapter 2

Book 3, Chapter 3

Book 3, Chapter 4

Book 3, Chapter 5

Book 3, Chapter 6

Book 3, Chapter 7

Book 3, Chapter 8

Book 3, Chapter 9

Book 3, Chapter 10

Book 3, Chapter 11

Book 3, Chapter 12

Book 3, Chapter 13

Book 3, Chapter 14

Book 3, Chapter 15

Book 3, Chapter 16

Book 3, Chapter 17

Book 3, Chapter 18

Book 3, Chapter 19

Book 3, Chapter 20

Book 3, Chapter 21

Book 3, Chapter 22

Book 3, Chapter 23

Book 3, Chapter 24

Book 3, Chapter 25

Book 3, Chapter 26

Book 3, Chapter 27

Book 3, Chapter 28

Book 3, Chapter 29

Book 3, Chapter 30

Book 3, Chapter 31

Book 3, Chapter 32

About The Author

Works from Colbyjack.net

BOOK 1

PLANET SECRETS

Chapter 1

I was in college for twelve years before I received my bachelor’s degrees.

But don’t for one moment think it took me three times the norm because I was stupid. In reality, I’m quite intelligent, if I do say so myself.

It took me so long because I was unable (or one could say unwilling) to choose a major and stick with it.

Oh, I’d be fine in a program for a year or two, but usually when I was only a semester away from graduating, I’d become bored, dislike my classes or teachers, and become interested in some other major.

It’s not like the system prevented me from doing this. They actually encouraged it by paying for all twelve years of tuition, housing, food, and a nice stipend to spend on whatever I wanted.

Eleven wonderful years into my post-secondary educational career, and just as I was contemplating changing my major yet again, this time to underwater basket weaving, I was called into the academic adviser’s office and encouraged to stick with my current major and graduate in a year.

And by encouraged I mean threatened. They actually threatened to cut me off. No more free tuition, no more free food, no free housing, and even worse, no free money. What is the world coming too when you can’t get free money for going to school? Have they no pity for the poor college student just trying to find herself?

I guess not. I could tell by my adviser’s tone he wasn’t kidding. I really did have to graduate or be thrown out. Either option was fine with them. They just wanted me gone as soon as possible.

After I’d gotten over my shock, I promptly began inquiring with neighboring colleges. Would they take me, with all my faults, and allow me to continue studying?

I soon found out the answer was no.

When I met with each of the other schools’ advisers something weird kept happening. At first, they would happily welcome me, offering me hot chocolate and cookies almost before I’d even sat down.

But once the normal pleasantries were over, the real interview would begin. How old was I? Had I ever been to college before? What did I hope to major in? How long did I plan on being at their school?

These were ordinary questions and I always answered truthfully. Not that I could have really lied. For all they’d have to do was enter my name into their database and find out about my attendance at Wukie University.

Once they learned I’d been in school for eleven years, their expressions would change. And so would their questions.

They’d start asking me why I’d been in school for so long.

Why I wanted to come to their school.

And, when did I plan on graduating.

The answers to these questions were tricky.

I didn’t want to lie, but I felt I had to.

I really wanted to keep getting the free ride, and keep growing my bank account for as long as humanly possible.

If I told the truth, I wouldn’t even have had a chance.

So I lied.

I said my teachers were mean to me, the classes too difficult, and I wanted to come to their school to get a new start. I wanted to start over with a new major in hopes of forgetting what had happened in the past. As to when I’d graduate, I became very vague. I’ll graduate when I can, I’d say to them. I was unwilling to be definite with a year or any timeframe at all.

Something about what I said must have come across as shady because that’s where the interviews would end. They’d say they were sorry but they didn’t have any room for me. They thanked me for my interest and encouraged me to graduate from my current school.

Effectively, here’s your hat, there’s the door, don’t let it hit you on the way out.

I knew what they were thinking; it was plastered all over their faces. They thought I was too stupid for their high and mighty schools. They only wanted the best and brightest and to their way of thinking, I wasn’t, just because I’d been in school for more than a decade.

I didn’t take it personally, but after going through fifteen different schools, I came to the shocking conclusion my free ride was ending. This realization left me in a weird position.

I’d never really believed I’d really have to go out into the workforce. I’d always thought I’d slip through the cracks of the educational system, able to be funded for my entire life.

I mean, being a student is really not such a bad thing. Yes, the homework is boring, but when you only do what you need to in order to pass the class, how much is there really?

Not that some of my classes weren’t interesting, because they were. Some of my favorite classes were on astronomy, exploring the heavens and the millions of planets in the universe. I was very sad when I had to change majors again because the last class, Legends of the Universe, sounded like a seriously interesting class.

But now that I did have to graduate, why not take the class? I’d just tack it on with my other classes in Logic.

Later, after looking at my schedule I also decided I might as well finish up my major in Bakery Science. Sure, it would mean I was graduating with three majors, but if I had to graduate, I might as well have fun to the very end because what was life without a little fun?

Chapter 2

One of the oldest legends in the cosmos is of a planet of riches, Professor Addy said as she paced in front of the large classroom. "Planeta Divitiarum is how the Ancients referred to it and they believed that this one planet, out of the ducentillions which exist in our universe, contained infinite riches. What exactly these riches are is unclear for the tomes use extremely vague language and untraceable references, but over the years many experts have speculated as to what these riches could be.

The majority of these experts postulated that the term ‘riches’ meant gold, silver, and other precious metals which have been sought after for millions of years. Others believe the planet is dripping in jewels such as natural red diamonds, benitoite, and musgravite. She paused for a second, looking around the room, before continuing.

"There is yet a third, very minor but vocal group which believe the Ancients meant none of those trivial, consumerist objects, instead indicating that the planet was abundant in water, food, metals, and minerals. All of which are items the Ancients would have been in desperate need of, especially during the Great Tendo.

"The Great Tendo, which you’ll remember from your other history classes, was the period when the Anarchists were most heavily bombarding the Ancients. This bombardment made it almost impossible for anyone to farm or mine, which would have been necessary to replenish their supplies, especially after the Ancients’ own military campaigns.

Along with the name of the planet, the scrolls, which remain, give directions for one to find the planet in question. But again, these are not the type of instructions which one can follow easily like take a right at the quad, a left at Henning’s Café and the Planet of Riches will be the first door on your left.

The class laughed at this. This was an old joke spanning many years. There was no quad, never had been a Henning’s Café, and certainly no door on the left. This was, however, where the older students tried to send the naive freshman who didn’t know anything. It was always hilarious when they asked for help finding said quad and everyone gave them conflicting directions.

When the laughter finally died down, she continued. For the thousands of years since these documents were rediscovered, scholars and laymen alike have been trying to follow the directions, but nobody has yet found the very elusive Planeta Divitiarum.

Professor Addy stopped speaking again, breaking the intense concentration that I’d had on her. I was always fascinated with the stories she told us. Every single one was different and new and mind-blowing.

I glanced around the room and saw Meredith Oblinger with her hand up.

By the Ancients I hated Meredith. She always had to raise her hand when things were getting interesting. She couldn’t go a half hour without having to say something, even on test days.

She was a thorn in my side.

No, not a thorn, a sword.

She was the ever present sword thrust into my side.

If I could have shipped someone off to the Zandana System, which was well known for its inhumane conditions and high mortality rates, it would be her.

Yes, Meredith? Professor Addy said. She sounded as fed up with Meredith’s questions as I was. She probably was. From what some of my classmates had said, this was her fifth class with Meredith. Could you imagine having to put up with this annoying creature for five semesters? I couldn’t. Or maybe I really didn’t want to.

"Doesn’t anyone have any idea as to where this rich planet could be?" Meredith’s nasal voice grated on my sleep deprived nerves.

I’d been up partying at the Den of the Ancients, the poshest space club in the area. (Space clubs were only considered such because the decor made one feel as if they were in space. There were stars on the walls, the ceiling, and even the windows. The only music they played were those of space musicians, and since most of these musicians liked to imitate the sounds they heard in space, you could almost feel like you were in space.

And if all this wasn’t enough for you, the employees of the club wore skimpy space outfits, usually metallic in nature, selling only drinks and food you’d find sold in starbases. All of this added up to a feeling you weren’t on your own planet anymore, instead were moving around with the stars.)

Not only were all the men who got into the club loaded, they were also smoking hot. Since I hadn’t gotten out of the club until six in the morning, I’d barely had enough time to change clothes and eat something. Sleep, however, would have made me late, and I would rather be blurry eyed and sleep deprived than miss this class.

Legends of the Universe was the most interesting class I’d ever come upon. The prof, Harmony Addy, was energetic, engaging, and a joy to have as a teacher. She didn’t give us stupid or pointless reading assignments, her tests were fair and open note, and her door was always open to her students. All and all, she was the best teacher I’d come across in my twelve years of college and I’d had some really good teachers during my time.

It was really too bad this was the only class I had with her. I would have loved to take all her classes – as long as I was guaranteed they’d all be like this one. But, alas, that was not to be. What with the school’s administrators breathing down my neck like an old man having an asthma attack. They wouldn’t hesitate to kick me out if I didn’t graduate this semester.

I wished they’d kick Meredith out. She didn’t deserve the free ride. Nobody as grating on the nerves and temper should be allowed to have a free ride.

I saw Addy barely suppress a sigh. As I said before, nobody knows the location of the Planet of Riches. If they did, it wouldn’t be a legend, now would it?

I guess not, Meredith said, frowning. When she frowned, which was all the time, it made her ugly face even more impossible to look at. But you’d think in this day and age, when we’ve charted ninety eight percent of the universe, we’d have found it by now. I mean, it’s not like the Ancients could travel far from Earth, could they?

While what the Ancients could or could not do is covered in another class, I will say we should never underestimate what they could have possibly done. Their technology was very advanced for their time, much of which we are only now rediscovering. I think it is completely possible for them to have traveled to the outer rims of our universe, found a planet which we haven’t discovered yet, and come back in a relatively short amount of time.

But –

Today’s class is not about what you believe the Ancients could and could not do. It is about myths dealing with different and very unique planets. If you have a problem with me continuing with my lesson, you can leave for the day.

Meredith sat back in her chair looking as if Addy had slapped her. I, however, was not really surprised by Addy’s words. It had been only a matter of time before she snapped and ripped off Meredith’s head with her bare hands.

I was just glad it was in my presence. I love seeing people put in their place.

There was silence for a few moments before Addy started speaking again. As I was saying, the Planet of Riches, while unique to the Ancients, isn’t the only planet to be mentioned in the scrolls of different ancient cultures. Another planet is...

Addy’s words rolled over me. I listened and took in the information but my mind was elsewhere. I was too fascinated with the Planet of Riches to care about any of the other planets she was talking about. Who would have ever thought there could be one planet in the universe which was dripping in wealth?

Even without more information, I could already picture the planet and me, covered in large jewels, glistening with gold.

This mental picture of myself started my hunt for the Planet of Riches.

Chapter 3

I had to do something about Meredith. I couldn’t take her anymore. She was nasty, disgusting, and had the worst habits I’d ever seen. She couldn’t arrive anywhere on time, she wanted me to do everything, and she smelled horrible. You’d think that in this age, she’d know what a sonic shower was, but evidently not.

After two weeks of being partnered with her on a project, and being subjected to her disgusting self, I’d come to a decision: it was either her or me.

There really wasn’t any other way forward.

Either she left, died, or quit this class or I did.

And I wasn’t going to be the one to capitulate. ‘Never give up, never surrender,’ that was my motto. And me leaving, that would be a horrible surrender of this unspoken war we were in.

Meredith, I said casually after making my decision she needed to go away, don’t you find this class difficult?

Yeah, but I need it, she answered, wiping her runny nose with her sleeve.

It took everything within me not to throw up at the disgusting sight. Didn’t she know what a tissue was?

You could always transfer schools. I hear that Dong University is a good school. I didn’t even know what type of school it was. I really didn’t care, I just wanted her gone and if by lying she left, great.

I’ve heard that, and I’m really thinking about transferring, but I’m not going to do it midsemester.

Why not? Why wasn’t she going to leave me alone?

Oh, you know how it is.

No, I don’t. Explain it to me. I had to grind my teeth together to stop from screaming at her. Maybe she’d be able to come up with a good enough reason for me not to do something extreme – like kill her where she sat.

I like this school and my roommate and I don’t really want to transfer right now. I don’t want all my hard work in my classes to go down the tube either.

Hard work? What hard work? I’d yet to see her do a single thing for this class project. I don’t even think she did the minor amount of homework assigned by Addy. No, her answers were weak at best, pathetic at worse.

"But just think about how exciting it would be to go someplace different. New teachers give you a brand new start. I really think it would be best if you leave soon. Today even. I just don’t think this is a place you should stay."

Meredith looked at me weirdly, as if not understanding what I was trying to say. No, she said firmly, I’m staying through this semester. And with that, the subject was closed.

Or so she thought.

On my side of the battlefield, the subject was still open for debate and action.

She was unwilling to leave voluntarily.

That was fine with me, I didn’t mind if she wanted to do things the hard way. Well, hard for her.

For me, what I had planned would be very fun.

Chapter 4

I started making a list of things I needed to do in order to achieve my goal.

Operation: No More Meredith

1. Find out where she lives

2. Find someone to take her away

3. Decide where to send her

4. Celebrate when she’s gone

The first item on my to-do list should have been the easiest of them all. Since we were partners on the blasted project, I decided to suggest that we meet at her place to work. Thus enabling me to get her address and check task number one off the list.

Why don’t we meet up somewhere? I suggested over the videophone a week after I’d kindly warned her away.

Why? Meredith asked, looking bored and completely uninterested in our project. Or was that how her face always looked? Sometimes, it was hard to tell if her facial expressions ever changed.

Because it’ll be easier to work on our presentation. I’ll come over to your place and we’ll be done in no time. That wasn’t exactly true. It would be hours before our presentation was done, if we worked diligently and without interruptions. But a little lie never hurt anyone.

You can’t come here, she said. Why don’t we meet at the library?

Fine. The library in an hour? Damn! Why wouldn’t she let me come over?

Yeah, an hour. The videophone screen went dark.

I got up and paced around my apartment, trying to figure out what to do now. She obviously didn’t want me at her dorm. Why? What was she hiding? Was she filthy rich and paranoid I’d steal something of value? More likely she was the messiest, dirtiest person at school and was too ashamed to have anyone over and see how she lived.

If she didn’t want to tell me where she lived, I could live with that. It just meant I’d have to find out where she lived some other way.

And maybe dig deeper into who exactly Meredith Oblinger was.

I looked at the clock and saw I still had fifty minutes before I had to be at the library and since I knew she’d be at least half an hour late I had plenty of time to start looking into Meredith’s past.

Who knows, maybe if I find something good I could use to blackmail her into dropping out of school.

With that cheerful thought, I grabbed my two year old tablet, booted it up and sat down on my ergonomic, body hugging couch. From experience, I knew it would take a few minutes for it to be ready for my use. Since I was a student, I was given old technology nobody else wanted and was expected to use it for at least two years. If I timed things just right, I might get a new tablet before graduation.

I would have bought the latest and greatest piece of technology, but then the system might think I didn’t need its assistance and that would never do. The key to living well was milking the system. Every thought I had, every action I took, was geared toward getting the most I could for nothing.

When the tablet finally came online, I started my information hunt by searching for her by name, knowing that if anything damaging was readily available it would show up first.

To my chagrin, nothing came up except her Conmis page. That might help. I clicked on her name and up came her profile. Since Conmis was the one and only social networking website online, I should have known she’d have a profile. Everyone had a profile from the very young to grandparents who only get around on hoverchairs.

Hell, even I, the person who scoffs at social media, has a profile. Now that I think about it, I think there’s a law requiring everyone to have an up-to-date profile on Conmis. Not that I actually keep my profile up-to-date. I liked everyone believing I was forever twenty two and innocent.

Scanning Meredith’s profile, a few things stood out at me. One, she only had twenty friends. Anyone with fewer than two hundred friends was considered a loner. Even I, miss personality, had five hundred friends. Her lack of connections to the outside world told me nobody would miss her if she disappeared. This made things easier. Family and friends always got in the way of a good plan.

Next, according to her About Me! page, she didn’t have a roommate and was single. Again, a detail about this girl which was conducive to bagging her up and shipping her off.

I continued to dig into Meredith’s life, learning more about her than I ever wanted and nothing I read changed my mind about what I was going to do.

On the contrary, everything indicated my course of action was justified on all levels. According to her chat logs, which she’d stupidly left exposed to public scrutiny, she’d been arguing with a guy named Draven about some money she owed him and wouldn’t pay back. Why had such a decent looking guy given her money?

I went back in the logs and found that she’d pleaded for the money, saying she was going to lose her precious car. Draven had been reluctant for quite awhile, making excuse after excuse, each wilder than the last, desperately trying to hold her off. He lasted two weeks before finally giving in and lending her the money.

And quite a substantial amount too, I saw with surprise. He’d lent her about what I get each semester for my stipend. Much more than a couple car payments would add up to. That should have raised the red flags for him, but alas it hadn’t.

Skimming through the logs, I saw that not only hadn’t she used the money for her car, which I wasn’t even sure she had to begin with, she’d spent it on a new Sagexphone, the newest and greatest in a long line of intelligent phones.

I myself had looked into the specs for the DXCIV (594) model and had found it lacking any real intelligence. It looked exactly like the previous models, and had only minimal upgrades and even worse security. In fact, I don’t know why people keep buying the latest Sagexphone when nothing gets changed. Do they like wasting money?

Now, if you wanted a good intelligent and secure phone, I myself preferred the Protusphone. While not as flashy, or as expensive, as its Sagexphone counterpart, it is very reliable, always on the cutting edge of technology, and allows me to easily enhance its already superior abilities.

For example, I was able to remotely connect my Augeo jewelry to my phone. With one swipe of my bracelet or ring over another phone, tablet, or any other electronic device with average security, I gained access to everything within the device. Passwords, photos, messages, bank accounts, you name it; I’ve got access to it. I could also track the owner’s whereabouts, overhear phone conversations, and generally get to any and all information they transmitted using the device.

From my phone, I could then download the information, and even take control of the other person’s electronics, on any device I chose. Didn’t want to use my phone to surf a tablet? No problem, I’d just tell my phone that my computer wanted control of said tablet and I could use my computer to search at my leisure.

I didn’t use my capabilities often, only when I was really bored or someone particularly nasty annoyed me to the point I couldn’t take it anymore.

But I would today. Today I would use my two semester’s worth of stipend hack of a phone from the back alleys and my custom made technologically superior jewelry to get the information I needed to finally thrust Meredith out of my life.

Draven, I saw still reading the chat logs even as I imagined Meredith miserable on some godforsaken planet, hadn’t been happy when he’d found out what she’d used the money for and had begun demanding the money back. This demand began a series of loan-gift arguments with Meredith somehow always ending up as the victim, even when people pointed out she was the wrong one.

I read as her dimwitted nineteen other friends slowly turned on Draven, wrongly convinced he was the one trying to rip off their friend.

All and all, it was very artfully done. I’d seen better con-women, but she had some skills. If things had been different and she hadn’t been so repugnant, untrustworthy, and a complete rat, I might have even teamed up with her on some jobs I’d always wanted to pull off. Oh well. C’est la vie.

Coming out of my own thoughts, I glanced at the clock and realized that if I didn’t hurry I’d be super late to our little get together. Knowing Meredith, she wouldn’t stick around and wait for me.

Grabbing my tablet and a bag full of project materials, I ran out the door and hopped on the high-speed trolley a block away. It would get me to the library in about three minutes. Pulling out my phone, I activated my Augeo bracelet and ring, indicating that I wanted all the control routed to both my tablet and phone.

With a few taps of my fingers, everything was up and running, ready for me to turn on the jewelry and hone in on my target.

The trolley stopped in front of the library. I got off a second before the trolley began to move, having to shove my way through the resistance I encountered all around me. A few glares at those who didn’t want to move also helped make my exodus possible.

Shoving my hair out of my face, I walked up the walkway to the eighty-six story, round skyscraper dedicated to quiet study.

Pushing through the front doors, I stopped at the check-in kiosk. Everyone who entered the Paget Library had to check-in, state their reason for entering, and declare how long they intended to stay. Once the computer inputted your information into the system, you’d be assigned a private study room or directed to the room your group was in.

If you needed to extend the time in your room, there were handy consoles which allowed you to tell the system how much longer you needed.

This system, while at times cumbersome and inconvenient, allowed every student the opportunity to have uninterrupted study time. It also allowed professors to easily check student’s excuses as to why they didn’t finish homework projects, as thousands of student have found out.

After saying my name, I said, Meredith Oblinger, group study.

Class?

Legends of the Universe.

You have allocated two hours. Would you like to extend your time?

No.

You are in room 69-487. Which meant we were on the sixty-ninth floor. Anything below floor seventy was usually quiet. The sixteen floors above were known for being loud and unruly. Think frat parties, but worse.

I turned toward the elevator when a thought crossed my mind. How long has Meredith Oblinger been here?

Three minutes.

I nodded my head and turned away.

A minute later, I was standing outside the door to our private group room. I saw Meredith muttering to herself, jerking her head from her wrist to her tablet to her phone.

She was obviously angry I was – I checked the clock above the door – twenty minutes late. That’s what she got for always being late when she met up with me.

And in reality, what did she really have to be angry about? She’d only been here for three minutes, four at the most. It’s not like she’d been waiting for twenty minutes, unlike myself all of the other times we’d met up.

Putting a smile on my face, I opened the door.

Where have you been? Meredith barked. Her look, accusatory. Her voice, shrill like a banshee. I’ve been waiting forever.

I’m right on time. I make a show of looking at the clock above her head and barely refrained from rolling my eyes at her dramatics.

No you’re not. You should have been here twenty minutes ago!

How long have you been waiting?

Like fifteen minutes.

Try four minutes. I am right on time. I put my bag down. Now that I’d decided to get rid of her, I found I lacked any willpower to be nice to her. I could have relented and accepted her claim of lateness, but why should I? If I was late, so was she.

Ready to get started? I asked, sitting across from a stunned Meredith. Why was she so surprised? Had nobody ever called her on her horrible habit of lateness? Or maybe it was that nobody had ever anticipated her being late and arrived after her.

I guess, she said, watching as I pulled out all the project materials.

As we began talking about the presentation, who would do what when, and what we’d say, my main focus was on how to get her away from her electronics. Normally nobody ever left their electronics alone, afraid someone would steal them or infect them, (there were a lot of bad and opportunistic people in the world) but I had to make it so she had no option.

I saw my opening near the end of our presentation discussion. Meredith, in a fit of anger, had begun roughly packing up her bag, jostling the table with every move she made. Her bottle of Mare was uncapped and a hair’s breadth from tipping over as the table moved. I saw it wouldn’t take much for the bottle to fall over and douse Meredith with its contents.

Inside, I smiled. This would kill two birds with one stone. Timing it just right, I hit the table leg just enough to encourage the bottle to spill. Meredith jumped to her feet, screeching as a cascade of Mare fell off the table, down her pant leg, into her shoe, and onto the floor.

Oh, no, I said, trying very, very hard not to laugh. She looked so funny hopping around, trying to get out of the way of the seemingly never-ending flow of Mare.

Look what you’ve done! You’ve ruined my pants! And shoes!

I didn’t do anything, I countered very innocently. This is all a product of your temper tantrum. And having an open bottle. Didn’t you learn young not to leave liquids open?

Meredith glared at me even as she began wiping her pants off with her hands. In that moment, she looked so pitiful and had I any sympathy, I’d have helped her clean up the mess. Instead, I said, Go to the bathroom and clean yourself off. All you’re doing is making it worse.

But my... She waved her hand at her phone, tablet, and bag.

I’ll watch them. Leave! Just leave!

Fine, she said, striding out of the room.

And bring back something to clean up this mess, I shouted after her.

I waited a full minute after the door shut behind her before I moved. I didn’t want to get caught going through her bag because I’d been impatient. When she didn’t reappear, I turned on my bracelet and ring, and moseyed on over to her side of the table. Her tablet was half in her bag while her phone on the edge of the table, tossed aside like it was nothing.

I passed my hand casually over her phone and tablet, noting the dents, dings, and scratches covering their surfaces. She didn’t take care of her precious electronics any better than a drug whore took care of her body.

If I hadn’t needed to know everything about her, I’d have been tempted to liberate these poor souls and give them to someone more worthy, like me.

Walking back to my side of the table, I pulled out my phone to make sure I was connected to her systems. When I saw the green lights, I was tempted to start my search, but I forced myself to put the phone away and gather my own belongings.

I was sitting there, watching the dripping of the Mare when Meredith came back into the room. She looked flushed and wet. Her efforts to dry off had been very ineffective. Her shoes squeaked like a duck and her white pants were blue spotted. A child could have done a better job cleaning themself up.

She threw a wad of paper towels on the floor and went back to her bag. You could have helped, she pouted.

Not my mess. Meredith gave me a dirty look, shouldered her bag, and stalked out of the room. She never even paused to pick up the blue soaked paper towels.

Chapter 5

I was all-aflutter with glee all the way home as I imagined all the beautiful secrets in data form I’d soon uncover. It took all my willpower to not open my snooping software before I was at home and had privacy. Oh, fingers were twitching to see what evil was hiding from me, but I controlled them, just barely. From experience, I’d found there were few things in life which compared to the joy of snooping through someone else’s life. I just adored going through someone’s private journals, notes, and documents, looking for the weaknesses and secrets I’d be able to exploit for my advantage.

Lounging on my couch, I began a cursory search through her phone. I didn’t know what I was looking for, but from previous experience, I’d found just scanning through the data would give me a better picture of my target.

And what a target she was, I saw after doing an initial sweep of her phone. While by all accounts she looked like a slob, in her electronic life she was very organized. Each document was in a nicely labeled folder, each program on her desktop organized alphabetically. I hadn’t seen anything this neat and tidy since I cleaned up the work of a drunk programmer who’d been very diligent about labeling every step as he went about modifying the software for my jewelry.

(While this programmer hadn’t been the nicest person to deal with in person, especially when he’d been sober, his work had been very good, if a little redundant.)

I was just about to activate the GPS in her tablet and phone when I saw her come online. She was on AnoniMess, an anonymous chat room creator. With little more than a name for your chat room, you could create a free, permanent room for only the people you invite. No invite, no access to the room. This kept the cops out, and allowed people who normally wouldn’t associate to connect.

AnoniMess was a notorious site where if you had enough money and credibility, you could get anything you wanted or needed.

I had used the site many times, including when I was searching for a hacker to create the very software I was using to spy on Meredith. Ironic, isn’t it?

From my hacker friend, I’d obtained the ability to follow my subject into the chat room, enabling me to go back into said room whenever I wanted. This was especially useful when I wanted to contact the people in the room for my own purposes.

I watched as she began to chat with a Latens about how things were progressing. Latens said everything was on schedule and that it would be ready in a week.

Meredith (code name Fumantes) stated that they would talk the day before the delivery and signed off.

I was torn. I really was. I wanted to follow her web surfing, but I also wanted to stay in the chat room and learn more about this delivery. Decisions... decisions...

On my tablet, I punched in a command to copy her history. I’d look at them later, and turned my attention back to Latens. Another person, Atrox was saying how he didn’t trust Fumantes and how they didn’t need her.

Latens: We need her money.

Atrox: I’ve got a guy who will give us all the money we need. For a cut of the profits.

Latens: By next week?

Atrox paused. I could feel Latens’ impatience, for it was my impatience as well.

Atrox: No.

Latens: When?

Atrox: In two weeks.

Latens: Not soon enough. We need the money by the end of next week. Any delay will interfere with the mission.

Atrox: But...

Latens: We take her money.

Latens signed off the chat, leaving Atrox apparently alone in the room. But I was still lurking just behind the curtain, contemplating taking a chance.

Signing on as Aduro, a name I’d been using sporadically over the last seven years for some of my dealings with the black market and other unsavory characters, I said, Want to help me make Fumantes disappear forever?

Atrox: Why? What’d she do to you?

Aduro: Doesn’t matter. I know where she lives. What she looks like. Willing to help rid our world of her?

Atrox: How much is it going to cost me?

Aduro: Nothing.

I waited for his response. The longer it took the more trepidation I felt from Atrox. He didn’t know if he could trust me. Hell, I didn’t know if I could trust him, but if I could, we would be able to get rid of our mutual enemy.

Aduro: You can keep the money she gives you. I don’t care about the money. I just want her gone.

Atrox: What would I have to do?

Aduro: You know anyone who’d take her to Barathrum?

Barathrum was a planet of varying extremes. With a tissue paper thin atmosphere, half of the planet was skin meltingly hot while the other half was extremity killingly cold. Only the small land which separated the two extremes was temperate and comfortable to live on.

Not that people went to Barathrum for the climate. They went there for the natural resources. The planet was covered in metals, gems, stones, minerals, and anything else one could harvest and make money off of. But in order to bring in the money, the different companies needed cheap labor. Slave labor as some called the workers.

Oh, technically these people weren’t slaves. Slaves don’t get paid and these people made enough in a week to pay for their food and shelter on the planet. They just never made enough to get off Barathrum ever again.

Yes, those companies had their workers dead to rights. Whatever they made they were forced to spend in order to survive. And the few that were smart enough to get the funds together and started talking about leaving the planet always had a mysterious accident resulting in their death.

Barathrum was the perfect place for Meredith. Now I just needed Atrox to have someone who could take her there.

Atrox: Yes. I know a guy with connections.

Aduro: Contact him. We’ll talk again tomorrow, 09:00.

I changed my status to invisible, which would allow me to watch their conversation without them knowing, and stayed in the chat room, watching to see what he’d do next. Would he make contact with his guy via the chat room or would he seek out his associate in person? The answer was the latter I saw much to my dismay. I guess I’d have to wait until tomorrow morning to get my answer.

Turning my attention back to my target, which meant I was looking at her current internet activities, I saw she was shopping for some very expensive shoes. Ugly shoes, I saw when I got a good look at them. Who’d pay that much for such crap?

While she shoe shopped, I glanced over her internet history and saw she’d been going to a lot of jewelry, jewel appraisal, and gem sites. If I’d been dealing with a normal person, I’d have just thought they had a jewelry fetish and been on my way. But Meredith, as I was learning, was not a normal person. She was involved with organized crime in some capacity, thus making her abnormal in nature.

I looked very closely at the sites she’d been to and saw they all dealt with the value of red diamonds, rubies, and musgravite.

Why would Meredith be looking up values for these gems? The answer came to me in a moment of glory: she was buying stolen jewelry.

I began to laugh. I couldn’t contain my jubilation. Here I’d been planning the demise of a seemingly ordinary annoying flea, when in reality she was a buyer and/or fence of stolen jewelry.

Isn’t fate funny? Wiping the tears from my cheeks and eyes, I went back to my tablet to learn more about my little crook. Now that I knew what to look for, evidence of her extracurricular activities and how much money they brought in, I began the long task of sifting through her documents.

You’d have thought her neatness would make the task easier, but you’d have been wrong. Neatness, as I quickly found out, was much more difficult to navigate than a messy system for the messy system usually kept everything in one or two folders or directories.

The neat person, on the other hand, had folder after folder in every nook and cranny of their computer. It was like a virtual Easter egg hunt where you’d finally think you’d found every egg, or folder location, only to have another one pop out of the woodwork, making you have to rethink your beliefs. You could spend hours scouring for your eggs and never find them all. This happened to me dozens of times. I’d think I knew where everything was only to find a new hiding spot.

I’d been searching for a few hours before I finally glanced at the clock and saw how late it was. If I was going to be up and functioning at 09:00, I needed more than a few hours of sleep.

I severed my connection to her tablet and began plotting what I’d say to Atrox in the morning.

Chapter 6

08:57 the clock on my tablet said. I’d been waiting in the chat room for five minutes. My hands were sweaty. My heart pounded. If everything turned out as I planned it, I’d be a very wealthy woman by the end of the week.

08:58. I thought I saw a person sign in, and my breath left me. Then I saw it was just the flickering of an ad on the side of the screen.

08:59. I’m staring at the screen. He’s got to come. He hates her as much as I. He’d come even if he wasn’t willing to do it. That’s how it’s done.

09:00. I’m expecting his name to appear at any second. Perhaps he’ll come with his guy. Then we can discuss how we’re going to get her out of our life. Forever.

09:03. What happened to the last three minutes? Did I pass out and miss his arrival? Where is he? He should have been here three minutes ago. I begin to think he’s not going to show up.

09:04. If he doesn’t show, what am I going to do? I’d have to find someone to take her off my hands and that would cost me. But if he took her...

09:05. Atrox’s name appears on my screen. My speeding heart slows down. Everything’s going to be alright. In a few seconds I’d know his answer. All I needed to do was breathe.

Atrox: I’ll do it.

Every worry and anxiety I’d been feeling disappeared as if it had never existed. He’d do it. He had a guy who’d take Meredith off my hands for me.

Atrox: But it’ll cost you.

Aduro: That wasn’t our agreement. How dare he try to get money out of me? I was already going to let him and his friends keep the money she gave him. I just wanted the jewels. But if he demanded money...

Atrox: He won’t do it without money.

Aduro: He’ll get money from the company he gives her to.

Atrox: He wants more.

Aduro: How much more? How much more money did this bloodsucking cretin want?

Atrox: Five times the finder’s fee.

Five times!? Is he crazy? For that kind of money I could hire someone to kidnap twenty people and ship them off to Barathrum. These guys thought they were going rip me off. They were about to learn exactly what they were up against.

Aduro: Zero times the finder’s fee and I don’t inform Latens or Fumantes about our plans.

My words were a bluff. I had no real intention of telling Meredith anything, but if Atrox thought I would, there was a chance he wouldn’t screw around with me as he currently was. As for Latens, I didn’t really care if his buddy knew or not. In fact he’d probably already told Latens all about what I wanted to do after his little deal with Meredith was concluded. But if he hadn’t, and he didn’t want Latens to know, I could use this threat as a huge bargaining chip.

Atrox: If you tell her, you’ll never get rid of her.

Aduro: There’s more than one way to skin a pest. Your guy keeps the finder’s fee, you keep the money she gives you, and we all walk away from this deal happy.

Atrox: What about the...goods?

Aduro: You mean the jewels? Those will be going to a very good home. Mine.

Atrox: How did you –? Atrox stopped typing, evidently realizing he’d almost admitted that it was jewels they were giving Meredith.

Aduro: I have my ways. Do we have an agreement?

Atrox was silent. I could picture him talking to his guy, trying to figure out if they could get anything out of me. But they wouldn’t. There were enough thugs in the city who would willingly take her off my hands for a minimal price. I didn’t need them. It was just very convenient to use them.

Atrox: Yes, we have an agreement. What is her real name and location?

Aduro: Patience. I’ll give you everything you need to know closer to the date. We’ll talk again the day before the delivery. After Fumantes makes the arrangements with Latens.

Atrox: Fine. But I could feel he wasn’t happy. Nobody in his position would have been happy, but I’d learned to keep my cards very close to my chest. Giving information too early would jeopardize my chances of getting the jewels.

The jewels. I logged off the chat room and allowed my mind to drift away to the various items I would soon have within my grasp. Would they be exclusively precious stones? Or would there be a few one of a kind gems just waiting to see the light of day?

And what settings would these beautiful and valuable stones be set in? I preferred necklaces myself, but I’d never say no to rings, bracelets, pendants, broaches, or earrings.

The possibilities and combinations were endless.

Just like the possibilities as to which planet was the Planet of Riches. This shift in thoughts reminded me of the huge folder named Planet of Riches, which was in the subfolder of a subfolder of a subfolder, et cetera, until it was finally under the large folder of Projects. If I’d been her, I’d have created a shortcut to get to it easier, but evidently, shortcuts weren’t her style because there were none on her desktop.

I connected my tablet back to Meredith’s and accessed the directory. At first glance, it looked as if she’d been doing research on the planet for a school project.

But I knew better. Our project wasn’t on the Planet of Riches and I’d already noted she’d done no research on our real project topic. So why did she have so much information on this one topic?

As I opened documents and scanned them, I saw the folder was full of books and articles about the planet. Except for one document, Search the Universe, which was a piece of software I’d never seen before.

I opened Search the Universe and the first thing which came up was a query box. Would you like to continue your previous session? I clicked yes and instantly was presented with a search box full of search inquiries.

As I read through the search parameters Meredith had inputted, a crazy idea came into my mind.

No. She’s not...She couldn’t be... Half-formed ideas came and went through my mind. But they couldn’t be true. Surely nobody believed they could find it by using a program.

Why not? The question escaped me before I realized it had formed on my lips. Why couldn’t a program be used to find the Planet of Riches?

But if it was that easy, everyone would have thought of it. And it wouldn’t be a myth. But what if they hadn’t used the right search parameters?

This newest question stopped me in my tracks. That’s what she’s doing. She’s trying to find the planet by using the right search parameters.

I stared at my tablet, lost in the implications. If I found the planet...I would be rich. I’d be a legend. Who am I kidding, I wouldn’t tell a soul. I’d keep the planet a secret and exploit it for my own betterment.

I hit the search button and watched as the results came up. Found: About Seven Octogintillion Planets. Maybe this won’t be as simple as I thought, I said, staring at the outrageously large number of results.

Her search parameters must be flawed. This was the first thought that rolled through my mind. How could her search yield so many planets if she’d inputted the relevant parameters?

I decided to see what the program could do before going to the trouble of copying the entire program to my own systems. Clearing out the parameter’s Meredith had put, I started out with the scarce amount of information I knew about the Planet of Riches. It had to have minerals and/or gemstones. A breathable atmosphere was a must. Metal rich.

I thought for a few minutes, trying to come up with some other distinguishing features which would help narrow down the results, but couldn’t come up with any so I pushed search.

Found: About Five Duocentrillion Planets.

Really? That many? I relooked at my parameters and had to acknowledge that they had been pretty general. I’d have to get very specific if I was to find the planet I was looking for.

A loud beeping rang through my apartment, breaking my train of thought. Looking down at my phone, I saw a message had appeared on the screen. In bold red letters, the message said, You have twenty minutes to make it to Advanced Yeast Creations.

Damn. I thought I had more time before class. Checking the time, I saw my alarm was correct. In nineteen minutes, I’d be expected to present my chocolate babka to the class for taste testing.

(A babka, for people who aren’t familiar with obscure yeast products, is a sweet yeast cake. There are many different versions of babka depending on what background you come from, or what style you decide to bake, but the one we were assigned to make was the Eastern Oland version. It kind of had the shape of a tall bundt cake, and was traditionally only topped with icing and decorated with candied fruit. And sometimes rum.

Our assignment, however, had been to think outside the proverbial babka and to do something different. I’d chosen chocolate because I loved chocolate in all it’s unique flavors, but also because I’d be staying close to the traditional roots of the babka. I figured that if they’d been making babka’s one way for hundreds of years, they’ve got to know what they were doing, so why try to go completely away from tradition?

But babka making wasn’t for the person who was in a rush because the rising steps alone took three or more hours, as I’d learned much to my detriment the first time I’d tried making it. On the first trial run, I’d only given it an hour to rise, total, and, well, let’s just say things went badly. It was short and squat and way more yeasty than it should have been.

Giving it it’s proper rising time, however, meant having a nice high cake which had the perfect balance of chocolate and yeast. My final creation was perfect and I knew my class would just love it.)

As I got to my feet and walked toward my kitchen, I directed my tablet to copy every file out of Meredith’s Planet of Riches folder including the Search the Universe software and then disconnect. The copy box which came up told me it would take two hours to completely copy over everything she had.

That stopped me cold. It should have only taken five or ten minutes max. For it to take two hours...that meant either there was a lot more information I hadn’t seen or the program was inexplicably huge.

Another beeping brought me back to reality. Now I had fifteen minutes to get packed up and to my class with babka in hand. That would be a tight timeline considering it would take at least seven minutes via trolley to get to the building my class was being held in. Add to that the two minute rush to the trolley and I had less than five minutes to play around with.

No problem. I’d been under more pressure and still arrived within seconds of class starting.

I shoved everything haphazardly into my bag, grabbed the cake carrier my finished babka was in, and was out of my front door within a few minutes. I really wanted to run to the trolley stop, but I forced myself to power walk. It wouldn’t do me any good if my perfect dessert turned into a lopsided mess just because I couldn’t control myself.

I made it just in time to catch the trolley and it made record time to Confectionary Hall. Hopping off, I looked at my phone and saw I had three minutes to go up eight floors and into my classroom.

I waited for the elevator to arrive, which took another minute and a half, and watched people walk slower than sloths off the elevator. Didn’t these people think that someone might be trying to get to class on time? Some people had no consideration of the needs of others.

The elevator ride took thirty seconds and I was sliding inside the room with twenty seconds to spare.

Professor Bellaria gave me a pointed look, but said nothing. Not that he had anything to complain about. Technically, I was in class on time. If he’d wanted me here earlier, he should have made it mandatory and told us on the first day of class.

Good morning, class. Today we shall be sampling everyone’s babka and sharing what you all learned as you made this time consuming dessert. If everyone will please put their dish on the front table, we can start the tasting.

I followed the twenty other students and put my babka in the middle of the table. I knew from experience that Bellaria would have us move from one end of the table tasting to the other, and I always hated being the first to present something.

When they were all arranged, he took a minute to study them. Very nice. I can see that some of you put more time on presentation than others. Always remember that no matter what you make, presentation is only second to taste. Let’s start here, he said, stepping up to the first babka, which looked to be covered in nuts.

This started a familiar routine. Professor Bellaria would deftly slice into a babka, everyone would take a piece while the maker told about what they had found easy or tricky, and any difficulties they experienced.

Some babkas were lifeless, flat, and contained little to no flavor. Others were too yeasty. There were even a few which looked like their bakers hadn’t even used any yeast. They were so flat and without air. But a little over a handful were delicious and perfect.

Mine was one of the delicious ones.

By the time we’d finished sampling and discussing, the class period was almost over. That had to be the best part about these days. Little work except eating and listening and our homework was always the same: read up on our next project so we could discuss it during the next class period.

As the bell rang, Professor Bellaria said,