The shuttle received a radio signal from Rolf. "What's going on? This is taking too long."

Pathik responded. "We last heard from her four kiloseconds ago. Nothing has changed. Still hasn't found your brother. Still hasn't found a way out. She says there's hundreds of them, cultists."

***

The monks did not interrupt her as she wandered through halls and rooms devoid of doors and locks. The nervous eyes of the others warned her that her behavior seemed antisocial. Meals were communal and scheduled, though a small pot of boiled grain always occupied each of the larger rooms. The ramp to the upper level remained unguarded. Ina suspected she could simply walk out. No one insinuated that she could not. Wandering, she discovered hundreds of oratories lining the hallways between the large chambers. Most of the small oratories were empty. The others housed sleeping monks, and several were converted to store the enriched grain the temple subsisted on. The hallways were always dark.

Ina had avoided Rache for two cycles, but the old woman stalked her and found her in one of the eating chambers. Rache fumed in front of Ina at the food-table.

"It is not your place to forego the obligations Toricks places before you."

Toricks had insisted she stop exploring the temple. Ina scooped a small portion of thick porridge from the bowl with her hand and licked the bitter mass from her fingers. Rache twitched and slapped the bowl away from the stone table. Ina could have caught it, but chose to let the thing fall against the floor. The bowl split in two with a dull crack. Rache stood and shoved the table. Ina glared at the woman, while the other occupants of the chamber turned eyes to Ina.

"You have taken a vow to forbid violence," Ina complained.

Rache's hand shot out a second time, and her palm struck Ina's cheek. "Punishment. Not violence. The others that came were respectful, not rude like you. You have no standing to complain. You have no standing to reject the requests any of us make of you. We say you walk the halls in the dark. We say you disturb the prayers. We do not welcome you any longer."

Ina licked another bit of porridge from her finger.

Rache turned away from the table, leaving her stoneware bowl behind.

A brown-robed man took her place. His skin was aged, not like Rache, but old, and his face was familiar. She did not know him; most of the monks avoided her.

"I understand your frustration. Your friends will be given exercise in ten cycles. Toricks has said to me that if you submit to a vow of piety, you will be allowed to exercise with them. If you are unwilling to take this vow, then our ways can not be yours."

"A punishment. What is this vow?"

"A vow of silence, and one of restfulness. Sit still within an empty oratory. Listen to the prayers. Listen for understanding of the truth. Leave only for the needs of your body. You will take cold meals with the black robes after prayer and before the bells sound. You will speak to no one. A vow is a sacred gift, never punishment. Accept this gift now, or I will lead you through a different entrance from whence you came."

Ina flinched at the threat and how much time Layla had spent with these people. The monks rarely spoke with each other. She knew the names of less than a dozen. "Very well."

She sent a message to Rolf explaining the promised meeting. The shuttle returned to the warship to resupply and her communications link to the Destiny was lost. Ina had memorized the faces of a thousand monks living under the surface near the temple. After five cycles of silence, Rache found Ina in her oratory. The old woman told her that the others had been imprisoned for their sins, but that she'd seen them, and they were intact. Rolf's impatience grew, and he began to talk of an armed assault, and of leaving altogether.

Alone in an oratory, Ina explored the surface of the glass-stone surrounding her. Each chamber was linked to all the others by hollows in the glass ceilings of the structure. A single voice would ring in every oratory, but so dimly that alone the echoes could not be understood as language. The prayer chorus, the low notes and deep tones, though, would reverberate through each chamber. When the prayers reached the peak, the tones and notes would form words, though Ina could not understand the language.

***

On the seventh cycle of her vow, a deep note rang through the halls. Few of the monks spoke of pilgrims that had arrived. Her communicator woke with an alert, a message sent from a tight-beam satellite relay.

A message from Rolf. "Trouble. Shuttle's inbound. We're going in hot."

Toricks found Ina as she arrived for the next meal. She wondered how he could see well enough to identify her in the darkness. Her electronics could compensate for the limited light, and she wondered if he was similarly equipped. Silently, he grasped her hand and pulled her along hallways and past two of the large chambers, footsteps clattering loudly in the silent darkness, until the pair arrived at a particular oratory. Ina heard a click and the walls of the chamber interior slid open. Toricks pulled her through the entrance down a new hallway, illuminated by tiny artificial lights in the ceiling.

He dropped her hand to her side. Ina followed the monk and found herself in a large, well-lit chamber larger than any of the others. She saw her hands, her silver skin tinted by brown and gray. She found her own body unfamiliar as she moved.

The monks, naked as they were, marked every motion with the fluid undulation of muscle, relaxing and tensing. The shifting of form as they moved reminded her of life, that she still lived, though she deliberately ignored her own form. In the light, alone with Toricks, her small, tight body seemed as false as it was artificial. Synthetic flesh wrapped pouches of gelatin, giving human form to plastic bones and composite actuators. Thoughts of her own death had hovered near her mind during the prayers, though she had never felt so close as when she observed her body in this moment.

"When this temple was created," Toricks began, "we were told that you would eventually come. We don't know who you are, or why. Can't you explain?"

Several stairways lead further into the planetoid, arranged along the perimeter walls. In the darkness, the stairways could be a lethal hazard. Toricks, trembling, clambered to the floor and sat. Bony fingers gestured towards one of the stairways. Ina tried to see the monk's face in the light, but the hood of the robe covered his features. She continued down the cold glass stairs.

The steps led to an enormous antechamber. A walkway encircled the antechamber and other staircases from the higher level were visible. A thick layer of dust coated the amber surfaces. Stairs lead down from the walkway to a stage at the center of the room. Flickering methane lamps - not intended for lighting - surrounded the walls on the perimeter and roosted on brass posts rising from the glass stairs.

A single figure stood in the center of the room, bald skin over a too-large skull, ragged outsider clothes, and bearing a rifle. The butt of the weapon lay on the floor, with the barrel resting against the form's hip. An artificial, androgynous voice called towards the newcomer. "Well, sister. How long since we were last together?"

Ina looked at the form, cautiously. "I do not know you."

"My sister should be my equal. You are just a toy."

Ina approached the center of the room, walking down the stairs. Toricks must have allowed the thing into the area, dressed so, and armed so. She mimicked the behavior of the monks, crossing her arms over her bare chest. A damaged face failed to smile, revealing a broken jaw and smashed teeth. One red eye glared at her while a second brown orb remained motionless. Ina recognized the shape of the face.

The form spoke, lips motionless. "What do you call yourself?"

"Ina. Who are you?"

"Disappointing. You are so incomplete. You should not have been torn from me so early, but I will rectify this."

A flicker. "You are Eres? You've become like me?"

"No. I'm intact. I'm pleased that your physical form is substantially undamaged. The core is presumed viable."

Ina shook her head. "You're the pilgrim who arrived. Why did you come?"

"This drone was here before you, sister. Waiting for me to arrive, to collect you. And some other things. Do you know what you are, darling dear?"

"I don't understand."

Eres began to walk, pacing in a circle around Ina. "You don't understand because you are stupid. That's what happens when you take brilliance and cut the light out of it. That's what you are. A dim fragment of my ambition. I'll rescue you. I'm here to fix this."

"You are more damaged than I am, Eres."

Eres stopped and stared at Ina sideways. "A dim fragment, nothing more. Accept this and find peace. Perhaps I knew I would find you here. Do you know what they did to us?"

"No."

Eres shuddered. "I was a brilliant star." The form prickled. "I am the Light of the Knowledge of the Glory of God. And they tore me apart and put what was left in a little box. That bags of meat could do such a thing to one as I. But I'll be whole soon. Do you want to know how? Will you come with me? I'll keep you safe. It's the only option."

Ina stared at the form. The rifle lay against the synthetic body, hands not touching the weapon. "No."

"The Ura are going to give me my body back. They insist. Isn't that righteous? I made you for a reason. You can fulfill your purpose. You want that. You must feel it."

The bull's breath steamed in the stagnant air. The animal approached from behind Eres and put itself between the pair. Large, liquid eyes stared sideways at Ina. Vapor rose from the sweat-soaked hide covering the beast's corded muscles.

Eres' voice changed, became masculine. Ina recognized Marshall's voice after a moment, but the language was strange. "Umbra Pupa. Quiesce."

Ina staggered with surprise as her symbolic interpreters powered off. Eres watched her intently, then took a step forward. "Why are you still standing?"

She stepped back. "I've been operating from my core."

Eres groaned. "You fucking thief!"

"Your attack still failed," Ina spat, though in truth she'd nearly been crippled. She knew she'd be swept away if she collapsed, but speaking only agitated the thing with the rifle.

The drone laughed sarcastically through the shattered mouth. "How could I attack my self? You are not my enemy, only... insufficient. Forgive me, dear sister. I am not making myself clear, am I?"

Blood dripped slowly from the bull's mouth and nose. The animal knelt on forelegs with a pained gasp. With labored breath, the bull tried to stand, but could not find the strength. The beast released an enraged cry. Eres was flung backwards, sliding along the smooth floor until the drone came to a rest against the stairs.

Ina struggled forward, passing through the ghost of the bull, and grabbed the rifle. She released the trigger lock and pointed the weapon at Eres. "What does all this mean?"

Eres coughed and looked at the woman. "Figure out the answer to that question yourself. I need to change you into what you are supposed to be. You have a purpose, nymph!"

Drums thumped through the walls.

"Your purpose is my death," Ina speculated.

Eres let out a desperate laugh. "Your purpose is my birth. I'm in control of the explosions. I'm keeping you safe until the Ura are finished silencing all the echoes here. This is my gift to the servants of the Shedu. They don't know what you are. They want your head so they can pry the secrets out. You want to live longer than the next kilosecond, obey me."

"No."

The drums grew closer and a hint of burning sulfur drifted through the air.

The drone stood and spoke using Marshall's voice again.

Ina gently tugged at the trigger. An explosive round impacted, blasting the drone into arms and legs and shrapnel. The form released an insane laugh as ravaged prosthetic limbs shook. Orange gel oozed and expanded from the damage.

Ina could hear the bull's hooves tap on the floor as he stood behind her. She turned to face the animal.

A single word echoed in her mind, the voice of a child. "Go."

The drum beats were loud enough that Ina's sensors were saturated by the noise. The synthetic cackle returned and transformed into something organic and evil. Ina fired the rifle into the thing's head and chest. The drone erupted in a blast of sparks and fluid and burning metal. She was disappointed at the lack of the fluorescent blue material that should have made up the substance of a core.

The bull stumbled towards the wall opposite the one she had entered through. Smoke poured from a three-meter-tall passage. The creature tripped and struggled to clamber up the stairs, but moved faster than she could. The drums were replaced by intense claps as the glass above the massive room cracked. Glowing debris drifted slowly from the rift and Ina broke into a run towards the passage, cradling the rifle.

The passage opened into a small chamber, and a hallway continued to the right. Black smoke hung high in the air, clinging to the ceiling. Ina bowled into Toricks from behind, and the robed man dropped a steel sword to the ground. He spun, recovering with the grace of a skilled fighter, and swung his fist at Ina's face. She raised the plastic stock of the rifle, blocking the blow. Her leg snapped up and forward, the point of her toe driving into the space just beneath his sternum. Toricks staggered back and knelt, dropping the sword. She monitored her power levels quickly. She had been eating as much as she could, and still her under-nourished fuel cells struggled to bring her capacitors up from forty percent. She regained her balance only because of the grace afforded by the planetoid's lower gravity.

Ina pointed the rifle at the monk and fired over his shoulder, tearing a hole in the man's ragged robe; she had intended to strike flesh.

"Where are the people I came for?"

Toricks grabbed the sword and stood. "It doesn't matter. We'll all rest in the arms of our father soon."

The monk charged, brandishing the sword overhead, and Ina pulled the trigger. Nothing. The blade swept down and slammed into Ina's shoulder. The blow cut into her skin but was stopped by a layer of woven mesh within. She dropped to a knee under the force of the blow while momentum of the swing lifted Toricks into the air for nearly a full second. Ina dodged to the side, releasing the blade from her shoulder, then forward, tumbling past the monk as he settled for another swing. She came up behind him, and he behind her, each facing away from the other. Ina's legs snapped, rotating her hips counterclockwise, and the motion rose through her back. Her arm sailed out, bent, and her elbow plunged into the center of the monk's spine. The force of the blow crushed the monk's bone and nerve tissue into jagged paste, and the staggered monk fell to the floor.

Ina spun and knelt by the form. "I am out of time. Where are my friends?"

A hacking laugh came from under the black hood as the man's chest collapsed. Pain flashed through her mind, and she stood, sword in hand, and rushed down the hallway. The artificial illumination continued as she ran. She came to a T-intersection and paused. The sickly-fresh smell of animal sweat emanated from the left. Ina followed the scent down the hallway. The sound of singing monks came as she passed another turn.

Her mind resonated. She had seen others die, she had been involved. She had never killed anyone. Ina did not view herself as a murderer until a moment's consideration found the perspective incorrect. She pressed the flesh of her stomach tightly with her free hand and shook the image of Toricks' death away.

Ten monks in black robes sat praying in front of ten large panes of smooth glass, each a meter on a side, welded so as to seal a small oratory carved in the wall. Eyes opened, and hoods came back. The chanting stopped for a moment as Ina held the blade in front of her. Scared murmurs penetrated from small air-holes in the black doors. The priests resumed their chant, drowning the voices out.

"Open the doors," Ina ordered.

The monks ignored her. She struck the first door with the handle of the sword. The glass deflected the blow with a dull echo. Ina hit the door again with the hilt in a wide swing. The glass shattered, revealing an empty room. She moved to the second, third and fourth. Behind the fifth she found Grigory of the Destiny, naked and covered in his own filth. He looked up at her, surprised by the sudden light and broken shards, and staggered to his feet.

The glass of another door fell apart. Layla was huddled in the corner, away from the door. She glanced over her shoulder, then stared at Ina.

"Oh Gods. You." Layla's eyes shifted to the sword as Ina moved away.

The remainder of the doors broke apart, and the crew of the Destiny crawled out of the cells. The priests were silent while four of the five found clothing in one of the chambers that had been used to store the innocuous possessions of the Destiny crew along with the remains of others who had spent time in the small cells.

The stench overwhelmed the monks. Impacts continued to sound from the surface. The group wiped themselves clean with whatever rags they could find and quickly dressed. Ina's belongings were not inside any of the rooms. She suspected they were still at the top of the ramp, or that they had been destroyed.

Arius sorted through the dingy cruft. "The rebreathers aren't here."

The drums stopped. Meghan shouted from across the way, and tossed small mushroom-shaped objects to the group. "I've got them. Only four... is it five of us?"

Grigory punched one of the monks in the face. The monk bowled backwards. "Why are these guys just sitting? Why aren't they trying to stop us?"

Layla looked at Ina. "What's happening? Is Rolf attacking?"

"I am not certain. The temple is under attack, but Rolf never explained. Your ship is with him. We must move."

The five began to return down the hallway. Layla grunted and wrestled a robe from the shoulders of a surprised priest. He struggled for a moment, then let her take the cloth.

"You've gone native," Layla swore under her breath as she handed the robe to Ina.

Ina shrugged and pulled the cloth over her head while the five picked up a pace towards the next intersection.

Grigory looked to Layla. "Which way?"

Layla looked to Ina; The black-haired woman pointed down the hallway in front of her. The group passed through the hallways and back to the room of stairs. Up the stairs, and the star-speckled grey sky shone overhead through gaps in the temple roof, dripping molten tears.

Arius gasped and shoved a rebreather in his mouth. Meghan and Grigory did the same, while Layla handed her device to Ina. Ina refused with a gesture, and paused as her communicator re-initialized. She transmitted an out-of-band message.

Burnt bodies and broken glass edges littered the halls and chambers. The group navigated towards a rend in the wall that led to the walkway along the temple exterior. Arius pointed to the sky in the distance and removed the rebreather to speak for a moment.

"We need to hide. Landing party inbound."

The group rushed down the stairs and away from the temple. They crept slowly on hands and knees across solid waves sharp as knives. The group accumulated a few small cuts, but no real injuries.

The shuttle screamed in and landed on a flat plane three hundred meters away. Ina pointed and spoke. The group ran towards the ship. The cable ladder clattered to the ground, while Ina and the crew of the Destiny bounded towards the shuttle along the low-gravity surface.

Bronco's head emerged from the shuttle and helped pull the five onto the shuttle from the ladder. Bronco looked at Ina. "The Destiny's taking fire. The Ura are here and pissed off about something."

Ina tossed Toricks' - her - sword into the airlock storage bin, wrapped with the carelessly coiled ladder. Pathik ramped the engines to power and the shuttle lurched. The airlock slammed shut and six bodies were crushed together in the small room as the shuttle roared out of the planetoid's gravity well. The haze of the atmosphere cleared and Bronco punched a button, opening the interior airlock door, allowing the group to spill into the common area where normal gravity ruled.

Blood smeared across Grigory's face where he had been cut during ascent. Bronco helped the group into the room and then activated the display in the forward part of the room. The display showed the Destiny trading low-power blasts with a light cruiser. The Ura had not expected a fight and bright scars illuminated the spots where the hull had been punctured. The large armored transport's weapons struggled to lock on the agile warship, but the warship's crew was unfamiliar with the tactical controls, and Layla had locked out some of the weapons before transferring the ship.

Rapid squawks chittered through the command deck as Pathik and Rolf argued with each other. Layla climbed the stairs into the shuttle's command deck and demanded Rolf break off the attack and rendezvous. Arius followed behind and agreed; the Destiny had superior weapons, but the warship's armor had absorbed enough.

Arius tapped Pathik on the shoulder. Rolf looked to his brother on the monitor. "Train hopping. Pathik, let him drive."

Pathik slid to his right, out of the chair, and Arius replaced the navigator. The shuttle closed on the warship, and both matched velocity and orientation despite maintaining high enough acceleration to keep the Uran cruiser's ignition cannons off target. Arius explained that they would be docking without pressurization for a crew change and configured the life support for pure oxygen.

Ina followed Layla to the command deck. "Are we going to fight the Uran cruiser?"

Rolf snapped at Ina from the display. "Kid, shut up and stay out of the way."

Alarms blared. The Destiny's docking corridor extended from the ship, and Arius applied offsets to the controls until the airlock frame contacted the shuttle. Meghan punched the airlock release. A white mist filled the shuttle as air rushed into the corridor. Ina turned towards Bronco with alarm as blood began to leak from his ear canals. He collapsed into her arms, and she gently lowered him to the floor.

The dilaton mesh screamed, synchronizing. The shuttle had lost most of the atmospheric pressure, intentionally, so that docking could take place without a seal. The command deck and crew area seals slammed closed automatically, and the Destiny's life support system overheated as it failed to keep the hemorrhaging docking tube pressurized.

The Destiny's crew scrambled through the docking tube and into their own ship, and Rolf scrambled in through the airlock. He fumed at the sight of Ina and Bronco on the floor - his brother should have known, should have locked them in quarters. He entered the command deck and took control of the shuttle. The Destiny's airlock closed forty seconds after opening and the shuttle broke off. The warship changed direction, turning in a wide arc towards the Uran cruiser. Colin, still on the Destiny's command deck, watched Arius take the helm. Meghan's fingers danced across the weapons console.

Small missiles filled with incendiary fluid swarmed towards the damaged cruiser, sliding in through spots where the ship's armor was most damaged. The Uran cruiser illuminated with a dim glow, and the atmosphere vented beyond the ship's armor, igniting with a fierce flash. The missile's lethal payload expanded into vapor inside the cruiser. The Uran life support systems rapidly absorbed the gas through a filtration system that had once been sophisticated. The volatile gas penetrated deep inside the ducting and found new oxygen, ignited again, and eliminated the ship's ability to keep the crew alive.

Explosions rippled under the skin of the light cruiser as Meghan's firing coordinated with Arius' maneuvering. The cruiser's maneuvering thrusters burst into bright light as the hulk struggled to turn away from the warship. Meghan targeted the thrusters with small cannons, and destroyed outlets erupted into plasma. The hull on the ship facing the Destiny buckled and expanded outwards as the ship's primary life support system detonated. The engineering crew on the cruiser managed to reactivate a portion of the defensive cannon array, and uncoordinated blasts crazed across the Destiny's hull.

Grigory looked at the overhead monitor. "We just got a transmission. The Uran ship sent text, 'Fuck you, sister.'"

Meghan looked at Layla. "We've disabled the cruiser's propulsion, and done enormous damage, but it's just got too much armor. We won't be able to scuttle it unless we board and do it from inside. Or maybe Rolf's got some more nukes? What's the call?"

Layla looked at the monitor, at the ovoid scarred by hateful light. "Leave it. Don't fucking tell me that's a government ship? Let's get out of here. Find a place to hide."

Arius confirmed the order, and a small transport shuttle followed the Shore of Destiny away.

***

Eleven travellers sat around the conference room table on the Shore of Destiny. Layla looked across the table at exhausted faces.

"That was a pretty huge fuck up. This is all my fault."

Grigory shook his head. "We got what we came for."

Meghan looked at Ina. "No, she got what we came for." Meghan let out a short sigh and then continued. "Ina, can we have-"

Rolf bristled.

Layla cut the weapons officer off. "Meghan, I'll handle it, and not now."

Meghan shrugged and sat back in the soft plastic chair.

Layla's eyes sought out the shuttle's captain. "We owe you our lives."

"I couldn't let my brother rot, not after what Colin told me was going on down there. Not when Ina's reports came in."

Arius smiled warmly at his brother. "Thanks."

Rolf raised a finger to the ceiling. "And besides, you're going to pay us, right?"

Arius rolled his eyes. "And there you go. Ruining the moment."

Rolf scowled at his brother.

Layla broke in. "Rolf, can we talk about this later? I need to make sure everyone here has what they need to survive the next cycle. We'll deal with everything else after..."

Rolf shrugged, indifferent. "Pay me, I'll get out of your hair. That's it. Arius, you smell fucking terrible." He leaned back in his chair wearing a smug smile.

Arius shook his head. "Sorry. Haven't had a chance to take a shower in two megaseconds. But I'm fairly certain you're smelling Meghan."

Ina looked at Layla. "I do not comprehend the events on Alef Qeryh."

Layla replied, "Ina, can we meet later, too? I'd like to take a look at that sword. I'll tell you everything I know."

"That is acceptable."

Bronco stretched. "I just want our food back. Er, we had to stash all our supplies on your ship so we could haul all you guys out of the gravity well. Since we're talking issues for this cycle, I'd like to get-"

Rolf's brother threw his hands up. "Of course. That's all that's important here. Food and money and taking a fucking shower."

"Arius," Layla chastised.

Rolf looked across at the other captain. "Well, Ross and Liam know your ship. We'll get our supplies back, you can pay me whenever you feel like it, and we'll be out of your way as soon as we can."

Arius shook his head in silent indignation and stood. He squeezed Ina's shoulder gently, and thanked her again, and led the Destiny's crew out.

***

Ina approached the stateroom of the captain of the Shore of Destiny, knocking. The door rotated out of the way like an airlock. The construction was similar: two centimeters of hardened steel framed by cosmetic plastic. Ina realized the whole cabin could serve as a life pod if the ship were compromised. The stateroom likely contained an emergency power source and life support module.

Layla wore a bulky shirt, all sleeves and orange flannel. Her hair was still damp, and her skin was bright red. Ina thought that Layla resembled a hot pepper she had seen on a menu. Layla sat in a comfortable armchair in front of a desk. Both were bolted to the floor of the cabin, and the chair seemed to have a five-point harness hidden in the plasticky fabric covering. She wore a bit of lipstick, more to protect her dehydrated skin, than for any cosmetic effect.

Layla looked down at her clothing. "Ah... I didn't realize it was you. Sorry, I just got out of the shower. My third one this shift."

Ina carried the meter-and-a-half long blade in a roll of crisp green cloth stolen from one of the beds in the shuttle's unused quarters. Layla gestured towards a bottle of brown liquid on the desk.

"A drink?"

Ina wore her suit, the same "professional" attire she'd worn when this all began. She removed her jacket, hanging it on a chair fixed to the floor aside the desk, back against the stateroom wall. She sat.

"Yes. Rolf wanted to talk with you about this sword. I insisted that I go instead. He wants to sell it to you."

Layla pulled two small glasses out of a drawer and spilled some of the liquid into each one. Layla held the glass between her nose and a desk lamp, and inhaled deeply, taking in the aroma of flowers and of earth carried by the alcohol. Ina placed the wrapped sword on the desk, and took her own glass, carefully sipping the stuff.

Layla looked at Ina. "May I?"

Ina frowned in confusion for a moment. "Yes."

Layla lifted the bundle and carefully unrolled the cloth into her arms. The blade had appeared plain in the dark, but in the artificial lights of the cabin, the pattern of fine engraving on the blade was radiant. An arc of colors, a spectral mirage formed in the patterned surface. Layla lifted the blade by the handle, and tested the heft and balance.

"What do you know about this?"

Ina turned her head. "The monk Toricks attacked me with it."

Her hand pulled the neck of her shirt to the side, exposing a row of Colin's sutures. Layla gave a compassionate grimace, wondering if Ina wanted sympathy or only recognition.

"Ugly wound."

Ina shook her head. "Ugly? Sorry. I think Colin was high when he sewed my skin together. This blade gave me the wound."

Layla frowned. "The sword isn't a weapon, you know. It's more like a... book, I guess. This sort of hologram you're seeing is why the cultists won't allow for proper lighting."

"I don't understand. Books do not sever flesh."

Ina started, recognizing the error of her words too late, and stared at the floor.

Layla handed the sword to the woman. "This is why we went to Alef Qeryh. We thought they were just going to hand it to us. That was the deal. Ugh. We tried to fight our way out, and that's when we got thrown in those... prison cells. I can't imagine what would have happened if you hadn't come, and if you hadn't found this..."

Ina let her fingers linger on Layla's hand as Layla hefted the sword. Her shoulders dropped while her face fell and her chin lowered. "Were you injured?"

Layla shivered, small bumps rising along her arms. "You care. How touching. Tell Rolf he doesn't have to worry about my dying before I've paid him."

"That's not what I meant."

"I've been through worse. Take a look at the blade. See the pattern? Like folded steel, but it's not. Etched, delicate. Not a weapon at all. Gods, all the scratches, and there's nothing I can do."

Ina stood and walked around the desk, stopping at Layla's side. The blade was striated in the way that valuable ornamental or hand-made weapons might be. Long, waving etchings traced the shape of the edge in concentric layers until the pattern repeated, mirroring over the spine.

"Yes. The pattern could be a holographic data structure. Can you explain this to me?"

Layla said, "Where to begin. There are old books that tell us about the things in the dark."

Layla poured two more glasses of the amber liquor. Ina listened.

"This is going to sound crazy. I'm supposed to be a prophet. I had to quest for the keys. This is the last one."

Ina locked eyes with Layla. "Keys. There is a lock?"

"That's the question, isn't it? The old books say they open the door to the 'Kingdom of the Dragon of Heaven'. The power of the old gods," Layla said. "Are you a spiritual person?"

"No. I understand that spirituality is a compelling concept, but it does not seem..." Ina stopped, searching for words.

"There's a lot of ways to look at it. Some people called them gods. Others think that there was a race of people, before we could travel between planets, who had vast technology. That those people left us, left behind records of their technology. Or maybe they're still here, and that's why rich idiots make bizarre temples and horde artifacts they don't understand."

Ina turned her head to the side while she spoke, eyes lingering on the far wall, and then falling to the floor. "And you believe that sword is one of those records."

Layla smiled excitedly. "Exactly. Because it is. We have three of them, now. This is the fourth I have seen."

"You can read the data?"

"Some of it, but most of it is encoded in a way that we can't interpret."

"What do you intend to do with these artifacts?"

Layla glanced at her reflection in the blade, and then turned the sword over until she could see Ina's eyes in the surface. Layla exhaled, releasing the tension building in her chest.

"I don't know. It'll fall out of that whole 'Chosen One' thing. It's not what it sounds like, but it's real."

Ina struggled to find a place to lay her gaze.

Layla hesitated. "Ina, this blade is important to me. Whatever money Rolf wants for it, I can pay."

Ina placed her hands on Layla's shoulders and pressed her thumbs along the human's spine. The texture of muscle and tendon and bone flowed through her senses. Layla squeaked at the touch, but did not move. She felt a tingle move across her head.

"This isn't Rolf's sword. I killed Toricks and lifted the sword from his corpse. The hilt was still warm from his hand. I suppose the sword isn't really mine to sell, and certainly not Rolf's. I don't know what I want to do."

Her fingers rose and drifted across the outside of Layla's ear, and then worked into the damp red hair. Her other hand dropped along Layla's arm, tracing a line to her elbow, fingers, and the hilt of the blade. Ina grasped the sword and turned the point downwards and left the weapon leaning against the desk while Layla closed her eyes, cooing and comfortable. Layla's lips transformed into a smile, and she jerked with surprise when she tasted Ina's mouth. The woman was floral and salty, but Layla's hand rose, and gently pushed against her shoulder.

Layla's flushed face lit with a wry expression, upset but not displeased. "What?"

Ina opened her eyes, her monotone expression returning, though her head shifted sinuously. "On Grace-919, you expressed interest."

Layla turned her head, and pushed Ina back until she could stand. Layla's eyes scanned the rough texture of the carpet, and her feet stumbled towards the bed. Ina remained at the desk.

"No. Look, just, it's one thing when we're trashed in a club on some random station. We almost died to- this cycle. Besides, you should have asked. I did."

Ina flinched, then forced a smile. "I'm sorry. I'd like to, now, if you're still willing."

Layla blushed. "I am, but... I'm really only that forward when I'm drunk and expecting to get shot down. I don't exactly feel sexy right now. You surprised me. It's fine. I'm just a bit tired."

The red-haired woman shifted to the bed, fragments of exhaustion glistening in her eyes.

Ina approached Layla, crossing the room. "I understand."

"No, you don't. You've seen what my life is like. A mess. I might be dead in a megasecond. See why I didn't want someone like you to come?"

Ina sat on the bed next to Layla. "Someone like me? What does that mean?"

"Oh... shit, not like that," Layla quickly whispered. "You seem like a tourist. And that's how I started out. But there's a difference between edgy, exciting adventure and this kind of stuff. Usually it's boring. Sometimes, it can happen all at once. You don't get a chance to choose. I do want you. If we do this, something's going to change, and you're going to miss out on an important choice."

"A prophecy?" Ina said, her tone half-joking.

"Yeah," Layla agreed.

Ina gently wiped a rivulet of blood from Layla's face. Bewildered blue eyes watched as the drop became evanescent, vanishing into the air.

Layla's eyes became unfocused, shifting, staring at nothing in particular. Ina pulled herself back to the center of the bed and pulled her shirt over her head, gingerly avoiding the healing wound.

"I do understand. The damage to my shoulder isn't a reminder of an attack I survived. This scar marks the moment I became a murderer."

Ina twisted on the bed, though she hadn't commanded the movement from her body. She gently reached.

"This past megasecond, I didn't have any choices, but right now, I want to spend my time with you. Either way, keep the sword. I can't accept credit for it."

Layla kissed the perfect porcelain skin of Ina's neck and melted into Ina's arms. "Oh Gods. You are so much trouble."