“Be it with paper and quill, or with computers and databases, bookkeeping was – and will always be – a tedious task.”

***Deep Space***

***Silith***

“Men! To simply pass out like that.”

I smile and tug the blanket over Antioch and the sleeping babies, one cuddled in each of his armpits. After I had to go through the ordeal of giving birth by myself, it took me a while to recuperate. Luckily, I picked a skill which enhances my regenerative abilities and so I was soon afterwards able to fuss over the two adorable little bundles. Antioch's drones kept doing their job, despite their master's unconscious state. Who would have known that the sight of a woman giving birth would be such a shock to him?

My prodding causes Antioch to wake up. He twitches like a startled animal and looks around with wide eyes. “What happened! Silith! The babies!”

I cover his mouth with a hand, stopping his rant. “Shh! You are going to wake them up!” After I am sure that he is awake, I take my hand away.

He looks down at himself, his eyes flicking left and right to take in the two little bundles of joy. “They are so tiny and wrinkly. Are they alright? They aren't sick, are they?” His attention turns to me. “Why am I the one who is lying in the bed – holding the babies – and not you? Wasn't that supposed to be your role?”

I huff. “I merely gave birth. I wasn't sick, and it seemed like you need the rest much more than I do. To simply pass out while your mate needs your help wasn't very chivalrous of you. And the babes are fine. The drones couldn't find anything wrong with them. They went through the whole medical database. It seems like they are supposed to look that way.”

“Well, I am fine now.” He carefully worms his way out from under the kids and gets to his feet, so I proceed to wrap the babies in cloth, making sure that they are bedded comfortably. Then I raise the side-guard of the medical bed to ensure that they can't fall out. Though, they certainly don't look mobile enough to move even a few centimetres on their own.

I point at the one to the left. “We have a boy and a girl. That's Samuel, and the one to the right is Minerva.”

“You already named them? Without me?” he complains.

“You were asleep. And we already discussed possible names. I simply took the ones which we already had agreed upon.” I gesture at all the drones which are patiently waiting in the medical station. “At least your drones were very attentive. I honestly was afraid that they would stop working once you had passed out. Those were a few fright-filled moments for me.” I look at him. “Don't do it again.”

He scratches the back of his head, embarrassed. “Sorry. Well, the drones work even when I am asleep, given that they have a sufficiently complex set of instructions.” Antioch runs his hand through his hair and lets out a sigh. “Have you found out what they eat?”

“Yeah.” I blush, remembering that problematic little issue right after the birth. Antioch and I had our suspicions of how it would work, though neither of us wanted to believe that it would work 'that way'. “Don't worry. They know what to do once you attach them to the right... feeding mechanism.”

He looks at me and raises his eyebrows. “So it works 'that way'?”

“Unfortunately,” I admit and clear my throat. “The ones who designed this were perverts. I honestly don't know what they were thinking.”

“I agree... did you get any strange messages? I only have one which congratulates me for being a father. Strangely enough, it's a rather plain one.” His eyes focus on a point beyond me and his face takes on a distant expression as he searches through his interface.

“The system only congratulated me that I managed to fulfil yet another part of my chain-quest to recreate our race. There were none of the usual witty remarks.” I scan my folders, making sure that I haven't missed something. “Do you think that G.O.D. forgot about us?”

“Never. I just find it strange that it is so unusually silent. Normally, the entity uses every chance it gets to make at least some comment. Lately, all the messages seem to be purely system-generated,” he mumbles. “It became very quiet since we left the station.”

I hum, pondering over the chain of events. “Somehow, I assumed that you would think of this as a good thing. You always hated to have G.O.D.'s attention.”

“Whether I hate it or not is beside the point. It's simply strange that's all. Feels like the silence before a solar flare, that's all.” He shifts his weight around. “I simply want to be somewhere else when the fallout hits.”

I nod. “I can understand that.”

He turns his attention back to the babies. “Let's allow them to sleep. I'll command one drone to stay here at all times, so that you don't have to use yours. You only have one after all.”

“Thanks.” I hug him, glad to finally be able to do so. Previously, my belly was in the way. There were so many things I wanted to do to him, but couldn't due to my pregnant state.

Antioch relaxes and puts his arms around me. “I am glad that you are okay. Back then, my mind simply shut down when you were in pain and I couldn't do anything to stop it. At least it's over.”

I sigh and press my cheek against his, whispering into his ear, “I am also glad that I am back in perfect condition.” Raising a leg, I sneak it around his thigh and kiss his neck, melding my body to his. “Now that the worst is over, we can get back to the usual schedule,” I remind him, allowing my voice to turn a little naughty.

He coughs, clearing his throat. “Yeah, but no more children until we are sure what we are doing, okay?”

“You are a spoilsport,” I complain. “But you are right. I don't want to go through that again. At least not before I've made some heavy modifications to my physiology.”

He nods feverishly. “Yeah, and next time I'll be somewhere else.”

“No, you will be at my side,” I reprimand him.

We continue to exchange little jibes and niceties, reaffirming our bond with each other. After a while, the children demand our attention and we spend the next hour with bonding to our offspring.

Antioch is the first who realizes that the little ones appear in our mental awareness, just like the drones or we do to each other. Apparently, we can connect to them, but Samuel and Minerva aren't really able to communicate. I explore the connection deeply, but it seems like I can't recreate the same intimate link which I have with my mate. Unlike Antioch's mind, theirs seem to be blank slates, unable to respond the same way.

If my adjustments work, then that should change rapidly, but for now, the kids are reduced to their basic instincts.

“There is something I want to talk about.”

I return my attention to Antioch and notice that most of his drones left the medical room. “Yes?”

He scratches his stubby chin and requests a mental connection with me. Once I accept, he sends me a file. Intrigued, I study the format. After a few moments, I realize that it's a simple text-file, and open it. Inside it is a long list of various items, mostly food supplies.

Finally, Antioch decides to enlighten me.

“This is a list of all of our food supplies. My drones made an inventory when I plundered the three wrecks months ago.” His eyes turn distant. “Has it really been that long?” After a few moments, he shakes his head. “Time surely flies by if there is work to do. As I was saying, back then, the drones made a complete inventory of everything I gathered from the various vessels. When we transported our stuff to the new ship, the bots came up with a list which was short of several tons of proteins.”

I bite my lower lip. “Does that mean that we are in trouble due to this error?”

He shakes his head. “We still have more than enough for over a year, not counting the pirate supplies. If we ration the food and rely on our power-cells, we can stretch it to decades. But that's not what I am concerned about. What I am concerned about is the fact that we are missing stuff. Is it possible that you made a mistake back at the pirate station? Maybe a wrong entry in the database?”

I look at the ceiling, trying to remember. It's been a while. While Antioch and I have eidetic memories, they aren't perfect. If we want to remember something, we simply remember it. On the other hand, if we don't pay attention or willingly commit something to memory, we forget about it like any other organic sentient. “If we were talking about all those bits and pieces of electronics or raw materials, I would say that it's possible.”

I shake my head. “But this is about food. I didn't trade with the food-stocks. They didn't have enough value to the pirates. I am certain that we didn't touch the stuff. Are you sure that the food is gone? How was it stored? Is it possible that we lost some crates during transport?”

Antioch tilts his head, thinking. “I honestly don't know how the food was stored. I left that stuff to my drones while I had my attention on other things. The issue is that we never stored the goods in space since some of it could be damaged. The old storage unit was always with the living section, since we didn't know if we need anything which we didn't foresee. It should be easy enough to verify.” He turns and leaves the medical station.

I follow him while he explains, “I am not certain that errors are impossible, but I've never witnessed my drones to make mistakes. That's why I am a little confused about this situation. The proteins were from the pirate ship, and not especially tasty. I vaguely remember that they were stored in big tanks. The loss is insignificant, since our hydroponic garden will turn us self-sufficient in a few months.”

“It's still strange,” I admit. “We should at least try to solve the problem.”

We make our way through the central corridor to the aft section of the ship. The storage areas are located in a ring around the ship's base. That should ensure that most of the mass is close to the drive and lessens the need for corrections, should we decide to accelerate quickly.

The storage area itself is under pressure, but it's cooler and has lower gravity to conserve energy.

The both of us enter what's, essentially, a large and generous hallway which runs around the whole ship. It's regularly interrupted by large blast-doors to compartmentalize it, should there be any need to do so. The narrow walkway between each area is lined with numbers to easily identify each compartment. The numbers are degrees on a circular arc, which are supposed to help with finding stored goods. There are three hundred and sixty of them.

We walk for a while until we arrive at the indicated compartment. The compartment is labelled '234'. After orienting himself with the ship's map, Antioch leads me to three large tanks. Each of them is five metres in height and roughly three metres in diameter. “Ah, now I remember.” He scratches his head. “I don't understand. The list says that there are three tanks of the stuff. Why is one of them listed as missing?”

“Your list doesn't say that the tank is missing. It says that the contents are missing.” I approach the tanks and inspect each of them by testing them with my knuckles. Tank number one and two sound like hard concrete, while tank number three resonates with a hollow sound. “This one is empty.”

Antioch furrows his forehead, not understanding. “That's even stranger. Where did the contents go? Is it leaking?”

We inspect the tank, but find no obvious damage. It seems like several tons of concentrated proteins simply vanished. Antioch even requested one of his drones to cut the tank open, but all that's left inside are a few sorry leftovers of a white paste.

“Do we have some sort of vermins which could have eaten the stuff?” I ask after some consideration. “Or could it have been empty from the beginning?”

Antioch snorts and points at the valve which is supposed to keep the tank sealed. “Unless they know how to open and close a valve, then no.” He shrugs. “It must have been empty in the first place, though that's hard to believe. Why would the drones miss that at first and inform me of it later on? They aren't some accountants who want to cover up their mistakes.”

I press my lips together. “Stowaway?”

His face turns expressionless. “You mean that they entered the ship back then on the pirate station. It's a possibility, though they would have to be very skilled to hide for such a long time.”

Yeah, and there would have to be a lot of them. How else could they eat so much food? “It's possible. There was a lot of chaos back then. When we opened the cargo bay to unload our stuff more efficiently, something could have slipped in. In any case, we have to search the ship.”