APRIL L. PAYNE
she did, the waves of thermal energy as it danced off the barren desert floor that surrounded them. The temple was situated on the fringe of the township, furthest from the water table. Only the heartiest vine survived in these temperatures. Colorful rocks and stones mingled with these succulents decorating the garden of the temple in place of flowers that could not grow for the flaming, molten white sun. Watching, Brianna Cantrell soon realized the movement wasn't thermal waves, as she first guessed, but rather the Acolytes who busied themselves in the distance, keeping to their daily routine, despite the upcoming ritual. It was logical, to work at this hour, given the torridness expected with the sunrise. Her self-appointed vigil was interrupted only when the heavy, wooden door of her chamber groaned on its ancient hinges. “T’Reesa, hello,” Brianna said, without turning around. The tall, slim Vulcan girl slipped through the wide door closing it gently behind her. “How did you ... it is disconcerting how you do that. Humans ...” the young Vulcan teased. “What are you doing here? I’m not supposed — ” “As your friend, I wanted to be the first to congratulate you and to say I rejoice with you on your achievement.” 40