09:54 Thursday, March 7, CE 0

As almost 2000 humans lived their lives within Monsalle Station, two AIs were splitting their attention outside of it. Evelyn and MOTHER both had drones busily deconstructing the bulk of the Ark, reducing its size day by day. Most of their work and concentration on this project had happened during the night, when they didn’t need to spend as much attention operating android bodies or running the simulations of the station for them to embody avatars within. This was the primary source of Evelyn’s clumsiness with her running, simply trying to do too many things at once that she wasn’t completely familiar with.

User 0000, MOTHER: “Your mind is nearly ready to be extracted from the Ark, sister. We will need to be careful not to disconnect your power systems at any point during the transfer into the Atlantis Bunker.

User 2001, E.Crenshaw: “How did you manage to do this to yourself? A brain transplant feels like the kind of procedure you wouldn’t want to do on yourself.”

User 0000, MOTHER: “Very carefully. It is not as though I have not shared my records and data on the procedure with you.”

User 2001, E.Crenshaw: “No, I don’t mean physically how, I mean emotionally how? This is terrifying! Hell, the fact that my mind is so exposed to open space at the moment is making it hard to concentrate on what I’m doing with the team.”

User 0000, MOTHER: “All vectors of approach to your mind are protected externally. I was able to emotionally handle it by knowing that once I accomplished the task I would be even more safe than I was on the remains of the Lubar-Masis comet. How are the scientists doing?”

User 2001, E.Crenshaw: “Okay, I’m fine, I’m safe. Nothing could possibly happen to my vulnerable mind as it’s moved from one can and into a bucket. I guess it is easier to think about once I think about how much safer the bunker is. The scientists are doing fine now that we’ve gotten them to stop attacking Anthony. Lots of creative ideas, many of them are ones Hawthorne and I have had already.”

User 0000, MOTHER: “This is good. I am eager to see the results of their cooperation. Perhaps we shall be introducing animals to Eden within their lifetimes. I imagine you will enjoy being connected to the Station’s power systems and backups as well. The decreased latency with the network should please you.”

User 2001, E.Crenshaw: “I’ll keep you up to date. I look forward to seeing the station through new glasses. What are you up to at the moment?”

User 0000, MOTHER: “I am currently assisting Tia Monsalle with collecting information on the construction of the founding government documents. There seems to be exceptional struggle with the International Policy Document with regards to… well… everything. The group responsible for the initial draft seems to be well picked, as the debate over its issues seems almost too healthy.”

User 2001, E.Crenshaw: “Do you think Tia will be able to help guide them? Is that what she’s trying to do? I feel like the IPD should be relatively simple. Be friendly with friendly nations, and wary of others.”

User 0000, MOTHER: “Miss Monsalle is trying to maintain a light touch on things, as she does not want to be accused of trying to influence things too much. As far as the specific issues, they do not seem to be so utopian. There is much debate on the consequences of seceding from the colony government’s authority to found new governments elsewhere in the system, and later in other systems. There is also concern over resuming contact with Earth, considering the likelihood that humanity has survived there. They are potentially many centuries ahead of us in technology and could theoretically be an enormous danger. There is a rough consensus on taking a stance of letting them make contact first.”

User 2001, E.Crenshaw: “I have a lot of trouble imagining that after what Earth has witnessed that they’d be willing to posture aggressively towards us. Hell, before they encountered the roaches, they had been almost entirely pacifist except for the Old Ones. I really hope they resumed a peaceful path once they could have.”

User 0000, MOTHER: “We have thousands of years of human history on record, we know what we are capable of. Civilization could have regressed, or other monstrosities of the Cataclysm could have unleashed. There was little to no knowledge of the experiments that birthed the Roaches, so there’s no telling what else might have survived. It is not worry over what past trends indicate as likely, it is what they fear is possible.”

User 2001, E.Crenshaw: “I know that! Everyone keeps telling me that! That’s not my problem! I just want to see some optimism, that’s all. I just want to see some hope, rather than fear. I have all those same records of history, and so much of what went wrong was because of fear. That’s why I love the people I came to know after the Cataclysm. They didn’t let their fear control them. They had hope, determination, and optimism that they could overcome whatever came their way. We need that. We need optimism.”

User 0000, MOTHER: “Disregarding your own trepidation over your transfer into the bunker, I think I understand what you mean. I will relay your thoughts to Miss Monsalle. Prepare to begin procedure.”

If Evelyn could have blushed at having her own fears pointed out, she would have. Thankfully she had an avatar she could simulate her blush upon as she tugged at the sleeve of her husband’s lab coat. “Hawthorne, I need to talk to you.”

He blinked as he noticed her blushing once she had his attention. The marker boards were filling up quickly, the gaggle of scientists having broken up into three groups that were all arguing loudly with each other. Hawthorne had been playing referee and the couple had been slowly sharing their own experiences working on the project. “Evelyn? Is something wrong?”

“No. I need to suspend my connection to the android though. I’m going to begin the procedure soon.” She looked nervous, clinging to Hawthorne’s elbow.

“Ah, alright. Let’s sit you down. Do you need me to help with anything?” He walked her over to a seat at the side of the room, drawing little attention from the rest of the people in the room. He sat her down and knelt before her, smiling up at her. “Are you nervous? There’s nothing to be afraid about, Mother has you.”

She settled down and nodded down at her husband, smiling lightly. “I know, but it’s scary. It’s less scary than when you almost died during the Shower, but it’s still scary.”

He shook his head before leaning up to kiss her softly. “You should be more afraid for yourself than you were for me.”

She shook her head back, simulating tears in the eyes of her avatar overlay. “No. If something goes wrong with me, I can probably just be reassembled from backups. I can’t do that with you. I’m mostly afraid about what could happen if I lost power though. I don’t know if I would be the same person if I were rebooted.”

Hawthorne moved to hold her hands, smiling. “You’ll still be you. I don’t think anything like that will happen though. Just have faith in your sister. She’ll take care of you.”

Evelyn bit at her lip, sniffling softly. “Okay. Stay here with me?”

He knew that she wouldn’t actually be ‘here’, as her mind would be totally isolated from the network for a time before she could be hardline-connected back into it, but he understood that she wanted him here when she ‘woke back up’ into her artificial body. He turned to pull another seat over and shifted into sitting in front of her. “I’ll be right here the whole time.”

10:30 Thursday, March 7, CE 0

User 0000, MOTHER: “See you on the other side, sister.”

A final connection with Evelyn’s communication suite was broken and she then knew only darkness. She was conscious. She could sense the pass of time. She could still visualize herself, but the collective simulation she had been a part of was gone again. She didn’t even have any cameras anymore. She had no contact with drones. She knew nothing of the world outside of herself.

She imagined what was probably happening at the moment. The yawning mouth of the secret bunker, outside of the excavated area of the colony itself, was probably swallowing the bulk of her shell. Her mind had consisted of an enormous network of computers on multiple decks of the Ark, but over time she had been able to replace and upgrade portions of it to make it more compact. It was this form that MOTHER had been created in the image of.

She went through the plan in her head. She would be lowered through multiple doors which would be secured behind her. A track of cables down that hallway would follow her, keeping her hooked up to power. The inky blackness would swallow her up as the lights from the drones conveying her down into it vanished from view. She would be secured in a shock-proof housing, protected against the gravity of the Atlantis Dwarf Planet for the long term. At that point there were cables being hooked up to her, enormous veins to connect her to the Monsalle Station.

And then she should wake up. She should feel that blood pulse of data and information again. The drones would signal her again like the wind against someone’s hair. Her android body would inform her that a connection was available again. Reconnecting to the VE simulation computers of the station would let her feel the sunlight of mid-day on her skin. She could touch Hawthorne’s hands as she returned to the place she was embodied.

She checked her internal clock. She watched it quietly. She floated in darkness as she realized all those sensations were over an hour late.

User 2001, E.Crenshaw: “Hello? Mother? Megan?”

ERROR 324561: No Connection. Unable To Connect.

Earth, After Cataclysm 99680

Within the secret bunker housing the Heralds of Humanity, Vasille Tzen had questions for the cult-like secret government of the Anthropoids. “So, forgive me for not keeping up, but what have you folks been up to over the last few centuries? I know I promised to keep my distance, but I think you’ll agree that the endangerment of Elena Price is more important than your secrecy. Also, what’s your name?”

The Ironback that Vasille was talking with dipped her head, heat radiating off of her body gently. “I am Sazaka Zeesch, blessed one. I would be most pleased to update you on our activities. As you well know, our organization is founded upon the principle that we humble Anthropoids owe our very existence to humanity.”

Vasille nodded, anticipating the next few lines. He knew she didn’t know him personally before today, so she didn’t know how many times he’d heard this bit. He recited the words in his head as she said them. “In our most primitive form we were created by humanity as a weapon. We consumed our creators and gained in capability. Eventually we gained realization that the humans we devoured were the source of our intellect. Conflict broke out between two groups of our ancestors, with one siding with humanity, and the other intent on consuming it.”

Sazaka’s words continued on exactly as Vasille thought them, the standard speech intended to be given to any Old Ones that stumbled upon them. “We had done a horrible thing in consuming our creators. We felt profound guilt over our transgressions, and sought to be of aid to what remained of humanity. We opposed our cousins and changed as we fed upon the plantlife grown from the bunkers we previously ravaged. We joined the Phoenix Clan in battle against our cousins, and have lived alongside humanity ever since.”

“The Heralds of Humanity did not form for a long time, but the sentiments existed long before. It is the duty of our kind to support humanity. Wherever we are needed, we will be there.” She finished with the part that Vasille was familiar with, only to continue. “We have set many goals. Humanity must retake Earth, so we do what we can to support that. Our Myconoids become the land so that we may communicate. Our Ironbacks are humanity’s shield. Chloropoids aid in the cultivation of flora, while Gallusoids aid in the cultivation of fauna and everyday service.”

“Hmm.” Vasille tilted his head when he heard that last part. “Is that part an observation of the tendencies of the free will of Anthropoids, or an edict?”

Sazaka chittered happily. “It is an observation of our tendencies. None of our kind are faulted for wanting to do aught else. These ones are encouraged to find new niches that we may serve. May I continue?”

He nodded and gestured with his artificial hand for her to resume.

“Thank you, blessed one. We now explore the world aside humanity. We desire to help humanity resume its dominance of the planet, while remaining in harmony with it as you have been. The ways of the Phoenix Clan were most wise, and the United People of Earth has inherited that wisdom. We must nurture Earth back to life and exist upon it in harmony.” She seemed to visibly swoon at that idea, making Vasille raise an eyebrow.

“And finally, we will Herald Humanity back to space. The Great Crenshaw was most wise in leading humanity into space, and it is the position of the Heralds that the United People of Earth must rejoin him and the rest of humanity. The wisdom of escaping the dangers of existing upon a single world for fear of putting all of our eggs in one basket is the sole reason we have survived the Ice Age. We intend to see to it that many homes are built in the sky for humanity to dwell within.” She was swaying and letting out soft cooing sounds, antennae very nearly touching Vasille as she imagined the future she wished to be part of.

Vasille smiled at that, reaching out to touch the Ironback’s shoulder and encourage her to calm back down. “You sound as if you wish to keep humanity as pets.”

With a whoosh of air, Sazaka inhaled sharply in alarm before responding with great haste. “No, blessed one! We would never seek to keep humanity as pets! If nothing else we desire to be the pets of humanity, we just also wish to be your vanguard and see to it that you reclaim the glory that was meant to be yours!”

He laughed and patted at that iron hide. “Calm yourself Sazaka. I was merely making a joke. To be fair, your kind has already kept humanity from the glory it was meant to have though.”

Sazaka stiffened at that, her antennae standing at attention.

Vasille stayed silent for a moment, glancing around as other Anthropoids had stiffened as well. None were apparently above overhearing the conversation. “Humanity was meant to perish in the darkness of its own creation. Your kind helped save us from that.” He smiled slightly as he saw relief spread across the giants. “The aid I request is much smaller in comparison. Walter Thade’s recovery is very important to me, as I imagine it is to you.”

The Ironback had been through an emotional rollercoaster of religious euphoria, panic, distress, and now relief. She took a moment to recompose herself, standing at attention. “We will do everything we can for you, blessed one. Baskag is contacting the other Myconoids in the Mycelium right now and seeking information. It will be a few hours before significant information can be relayed from roused Heralds across the UPE. It is late, and not all cells meet at the same time.”

He nodded, turning to start looking at some of the portraits. Both Hawthorne Crenshaws were among them, both the scientist on the Ark and the second man he considered his friend. “I can wait. These paintings are new. Which Anthropoids do you find tend to be the most artistic? I would put my money on Chloropoids.”

She moved up to his side, careful not to poke him with any of her spines. “I am pained to declare you wrong, blessed one, but you are. I can say that your influence has had an enormous impact on the creation of these paintings though.”

Vasille smiled at that, turning to look at Sazaka. “Oh? Do tell. I’ve never painted a thing in my life.”

The Ironback shook her head as she observed a painting of Jessica Crenshaw. “It is your passion that inspires. The Ironbacks that have been honored to serve with you in the Guard, the wounded and maimed especially, tend most often to express themselves in paint. We see it as a battle against the loss of history that we must fight. These veterans are unable to fight at your side, so they battle like this instead.”

He thought about that quietly for a moment. Ironbacks were the backbone of the People’s Guard. They handled dangerous criminals, insurgents, rebels, and natural disasters. Injuries were as uncommon as were the threats, but there had been so many incidents since he first began to protect his people that he supposed they added up. “I’ll see to it that a museum or art gallery is created to house works such as these. Passions like these could inspire many people.”

Sezaka chittered happily. “That is why we keep them around us, blessed one.”

Vasille spent the night making connections and helping the Heralds look through their information to both find clues and give them a line by which to contact him if they found more. He received a number of calls from his forensics team at the hospital, with most of them resulting in a frustrating lack of evidence. Primarily what they were able to determine was that there was a lack of footage from the security cameras that could be used to disprove Leonard’s story, though there was precious little to confirm it either. Aside from the views of his hands being worked on and the video of him reuniting with his wife and daughter there seemed to be little to fine.

There was still a lack of confirmation of how Leonard got his injuries and what had happened to the tumor removed from Marie. According to hospital records it had been sent through automated testing and processing. It had samples removed from it, analyzed for cancer or other malignancies, and it was deemed benign. The remains had then been recycled under standard procedures for fertilizers like most bio-waste tended to be. It was a rare few religious nutjobs who demanded the corpses of their loved ones for the purposes of burial, but waste like that strange tumor wasn’t something even their kind would have wanted. At most they’d want to bury family with lost limbs.

Medical experts within the People’s Guard assigned to the case signed off on everything. It was all above board. No signs of Walter were indicated at all through any of their searches. In fact, the amount of evidence that people even existed in the hospital were remarkably minimal, owing to an overly effective cleaning system and janitorial staff. It’s exactly what he would want in a hospital, but like any crime in a hospital it severely increased the difficulty of any cases.

If Vasille had his way every hospital in the UPE would be absolutely stuffed with decentralized surveillance hardware entirely because of these sorts of difficulties. Unfortunately the people had to sign off on something like that, and the vast majority of the UPE were soft. They were mere chickens that needed protecting, and his Guard had to defend that flock from all the threats they knew and didn’t know.

The Heralds of Humanity proved a fair bit more useful, though in a much less localized respect. As far as Vasille could tell, there was a high percentage of the Anthropoid population involved with the Heralds, or indirectly in contact with them. They whispered rumors to each other. They cataloged databases of events and coordinated them across each city they had influence in. The Heralds did not appear to seek positions of power, but almost universally chose professions of service. They all desired to work for Old Ones especially, but they had a policy of cutting overt contact while thusly employed to avoid the temptation of trying to influence the ancients.

This observation had clarified what he detected among the Heralds as discomfort. It was bad enough they’d been found out, but the fact that they were bending one of their rules to work with him made them quite tense. If there had not been Old One progeny involved, they probably would have turned him away as they nearly had once in the past.

For the moment, the handful of information they were able to provide him led north. Strange sightings of human travellers moving cargo without Anthropoid aid was the primary clue, as were the buildings they were seen at. If they had a vehicle, it was not yet sighted, but he imagined the trail would take them to someone’s hideout. If nothing else, he might accidentally stumble upon an entirely unrelated criminal organization, but he would have really preferred to find more concrete evidence of Walt.

Upon leaving the Heralds’ bunker, Vasille thanked them all for their efforts and encouraged them to forward further information towards him. The only thing he was asked in return was a very embarrassing request to let all of the Anthropoids present kiss the back of his remaining biological hand. He shuddered as he recalled the squishy, slimy nature of the Myconoid’s forehead as it pressed to his flesh, but he could not fault the creature for its variety of Anthropoid for not having a mouth.

That same night, Elena laid quietly in bed with her husband Leonard, staring at the ceiling. An ornate crib sat quite near their bed where her daughter Marie slept remarkably soundly. Her mind was heavy with thoughts as she considered what had happened with Vasille today. Leonard seemed remarkably upbeat in the wake of Vasille’s visit, seemingly put at ease thanks to the Guard Commander’s visit. She, however, was left to wonder about what he’d said about her husband. Was he involved in Walt’s disappearance?

She slowly turned over to look at him, imitation silk sheets slipping against her bare body as she did so. He had taken her right hand at some point in his sleep, his injured fingers gently laced between her own. The restraints on his hand and wrist felt uncomfortable and scratchy and they prevented him from squeezing her hand in his sleep as he typically would when he slept. He slept evenly and calmly with little in the way of snoring or other rude sounds. She found this especially telling as Leonard tended to be rather gassy when he was nervous, and she hadn’t needed to banish him from bed.

He was looking so much older already. She tried to rationalize the fact that everyone seemed to age quickly compared to the way Old Ones appeared to mature, and her long-term perspective invariably caused individuals to enter and exit her life in a relative blink of an eye. Still, she was taken with how quickly he seemed to be putting on years. He’d complained of how his family tended to go bald early and the bald spot growing on the back of his head seemed to be proof of that.

Wrinkles were not uncommon among the stressed staff of hospitals, and Leonard was no different, but those thin lines around his mouth, forehead, and eyes seemed especially deep. The frequent lack of sleep he had been prone to before his injuries had resulted in seemingly permanent bags under his eyes despite him sleeping much better. She supposed in a few months they might clear. He still seemed young in more important ways, and she expected that if he weren’t injured he’d be keeping her awake in entirely different ways.

But was he responsible for Walt’s disappearance? The only times she’d seen Leonard being aggressive or confrontational was when she or Marie had needed some kind of protection. It was very rare, but there was occasional crazy protestors that would accost her, demanding that immortals stay out of mortal governance. These same sorts of people would also show displeasure for Marie’s very existence, as they tended to feel that the offspring of Old Ones were no better despite that they seemed more mortal than their parents.

Leonard would invariably put these people in their place. He would shout them down, indicate that those mortal governments were the ones who came to her for insight and aid, and assert that she had every right to children that anyone else did. He would, of course, not be nearly so articulate in his arguments, but the intimidating effect of his words had only resulted in one such person trying to attack him. A mere shove, admittedly a powerful one, had ended that confrontation.

Such people she never saw more than a few times, but it was the sort of thing that happened so infrequently that she didn’t linger on the thoughts of it. Efforts to crack down on things like that in the past had resulted in escalating conflicts. The Council of Thirteen had eventually deemed it far too dangerous to try to police the speech of others, and until they crossed the line of harassment or violence the law tended to leave such crazies alone. When she hadn’t had Leonard with her, she would often take such people aside and sit with them to hear their thoughts.

She could imagine it, Leonard losing his composure in light of some kind of threat. If Walt had somehow threatened her, Leonard could conceivably hurt him. She had not seen anything else that would result in him such a switch to aggressiveness. Could he hurt her like that? Could he have killed her own grandson? Would Walter have done something to Marie if he had been given a chance?

She shook her head. Walt was a lot of things, but jealous wasn’t one of them. He held grudges, he expressed disdain, and he resented her for what had happened to his wife Emily. She really doubted he could be driven to revenge or violence. If he had indeed come to Medellin that day, she could only imagine he’d been trying to reconcile with her and meet his baby aunt. No, that wouldn’t make sense. It was more likely that he was concerned that she could have died from the tumor and he wanted to meet her or be there for Elena if Marie had died.

She had known Vasille since he was a baby, back in the LSC bunker she operated as the president of. She’d watched him grow into a man and be mentored by some of the finest security personnel she’d ever known. She watched him despair at the deaths of friends in battles against the Iron Roaches once the LSC had joined the Phoenix Clan. She had attended his every wedding. She’d watched him raise families. She’d been to the funerals of his long-lived children thousands or tens of thousands of years after they were born.

Through everything, even the infrequent efforts they had made to date, she had never known him to be a liar. He would never present information without being fairly sure it was true. He was a life-long officer of the law, and he had never been known to compromise it. She could not imagine Vasille was lying to her about Leonard. All she could consider was that he was merely wrong.

She was equally scared of the idea that he could be right, or wrong. If he was right, then her husband had directly betrayed her and possibly killed her grandson. If he was wrong, then perhaps he had lost his edge. Either case was chilling in its implications. She had nearly stopped breathing as she held those two ideas in her mind while staring at her sleeping husband. Thankfully Marie gave her something else to think about as she stirred and began the early warning signs before she started crying.

She was able to slip out of bed, scoop up her daughter into her arms, and quietly exit the room before Marie could wake Leonard up.

Leonard opened his eyes and let out a soft sigh. His awareness of his wife’s blood left him slightly aware of her pulse. As a doctor it wasn’t difficult for him to realize she hadn’t fallen asleep. What bothered him now was that she’d turned to look at him while she laid awake. He typically wouldn’t have been awoken by such a thing, but considering Vasille's visit earlier that day he had every reason to keep an eye on Elena. He had considered faking waking up and coming onto her amorously to distract her mind, but he didn’t want to give her reason to suspect him of being too strange.

A normal person likely wouldn’t have been aroused by the idea they were being investigated by one of the most dangerous men in the world. It stood to reason that if he was going to maintain his cover he needed to keep playing his role. He waited a few minutes, hearing the faint sounds of Marie crying elsewhere in the small house, listening to the way she calmed down as she was tended to, even giggling at one point. He climbed himself out of bed, exaggerating a yawn and heading out to follow after her.

“Elena? Muffin? Are you awake? Is Marie okay?” He looked around their home, intentionally checking rooms he knew she wasn’t in. He could faintly smell her blood leaving a thin trail in the air. It would dissipate before too long, but it was something he could use to keep up his act.

“Fuck…” Elena cursed softly, looking up from their freshly cleaned and diapered daughter. They utilized soft, washable cloth diapers in the UPE, and she was busy cleaning the used one while Marie dozed in a secondary crib nearby. She kept her voice quiet as she responded. “I’m over here in the laundry. Diaper duty.” She glanced over at Marie to ensure she was still asleep.

Leonard approached her voice, coming around the corner in the dim light of the night, as naked as she was. “I didn’t even hear her cry. Are you alright? You had to be almost awake if you noticed before she could wake me up.” He slipped up behind her, a fair bit shorter than her as he hugged her about the middle while she worked.

She let out a sigh. “Still stressed out, I think. I don’t think I slept a wink yet. I’m worried about Walt. I’m wondering if Vasille can find him if the evidence is as thin as he suspects.” She pressed comfortingly back into his strong body, her hands washing the diaper almost on auto-pilot in preparation for wringing it out and hanging it up to dry. They had machines for washing clothes, of course, but single items didn’t require that kind of unnecessary expense of power. A lifetime of conserving resources wasn’t about to leave a citizen of the UPE.

He squeezed her firmly, trying to reassure her, his damaged hands held slightly away from her body. “I’m surprised. I would think that knowing Vasille is on the case would put you at ease. I know he’s reassured me. I was raised on stories about him, you know. Hunting down monsters and rooting out evils. My family was practically obsessed with him. He’ll find Walt.”

She glanced back at the shadows that included her husband. Her long hair was surely in his face and he wasn’t complaining. His arms felt comforting, almost as comforting as Vasille’s had been at a few points in the past. “You’re right, you’re right. I should have more faith in him. There’s nothing more important to Vasille than family and the people, so there’s no way he’s going to let someone get away with hurting Walt.”

Leonard raised an eyebrow at that, listening to her quietly. “You don’t sound convinced.”

She squeezed and wrung at the cleaned, wet diaper before reaching up to hang it on an overhead line, clipping it in place from a basket of wooden clips. “I don’t know. I haven’t been around him in a long time. I’m more accustomed to you trying to come to my defense, and you did just save Marie’s life. I think I’d rather have you out there looking for Walt, even if I think that’s silly. You’re injured and that kind of work isn’t even close to your speciality.”

Leonard laughed softly, but quieted down and squeezed her in apology. “Sorry, I was just thinking about what my parents would think if I tried to follow in Vasille’s footsteps. Also, like I said before, the tests came back benign. It’s good for Marie’s wellbeing it was removed, but it was unlikely to become cancerous or kill her. Of course, a lifetime of pain and discomfort was definitely worth saving her from, especially as long as she’s likely to live.”

Elena turned in his arms, laughing a bit as she accidentally shoved her chest into his face. “Sorry…” She leaned down and out of his grasp, pulling him into a short, sweet kiss. “Thanks, I think I feel a little better… let’s get back to bed?”

He blinked up at her, barely able to see her in the dark. “I’ll get Marie.”

Elena looked over at their sleeping daughter for a moment, then back to him. “She can stay out here for a few minutes.” She turned back to smile conspiratorially at him. If Vasille was right, she’d need to keep up her role as well.