The airlock opened into a narrow corridor, guiding the newcomers onto the Quorum Generation Ship Nirvana-2. Bronco flinched as his shirt grazed the white wall, leaving a smudge of sweat. He was intimidated by the ease in which his actions marred the pristine ship. Liam had been born on a Quorum ship and was unimpressed, being accustomed to the mixture of precise opulence and personal responsibility. The ship was maintained as well as any core Quorum station, though the Nirvana skirted the borders between free space and the various sectors. Bronco fought his discomfort as he entered the docking lobby and let his finger slide along the plastic walls - rough-textured, light-emitting and pristine.

The ship was constructed on a modular superstructure. The exterior was spherical, typical of generation ship design, with two hundred and fifty interior decks, massive circular units stacked on top of each other. Each deck was built inside an armored ring that contained life support and a local dilaton mesh used to generate artificial gravity. Two decks, concentric shells with the walking surfaces at odd angles relative to the interior decks, were mounted to the exterior of the ship along the armored rings. The exterior decks housed weapons, sensors, docking assemblies, airlocks, and transport bays. The structure was made of metal and advanced extruded composite foams. The interior walls were made of plastic, non-structural, and re-configurable.

The ship maintained itself, equipped with robotic drones that would silently invade unused rooms. The drones cleaned Bronco's fingerprints from the wall as he moved along the ship's walkways. The walkways were configured in a series of concentric paths, three for each primary deck, one for the secondary decks composing the "top" and "bottom" eighths of the ship. The ship was divided into maddeningly consistent units and transit routes.

Like most generation ships, the Nirvana-2 was self-sufficient. Unlike most generation ships, the Nirvana possessed comprehensive biological farms in addition to the standard recycling and synthesis plants. This meant the ship could produce food and materials comparable to those imported from the largest stations, even planets, providing an uncharacteristic level of personal comfort for a ship with a trajectory that grazed free space.

Research in the ship's public data center absorbed most of Ina's time. She found a series of study rooms, mostly unused, with comfortable seats and open-access computers. Ina enjoyed one particular spot, a nook cut into a wall with a desk built into a reclined seat. Humans found entrance to the chair awkward, and standing more so, but Ina mastered the trick. The seat was recessed into a wall, oriented so one would be forced to enter sideways, stepping after sitting. The position was suited for long kiloseconds of contemplation.

Vast networks of digital data contained and cataloged the knowledge of the human race. The unofficial name of the data center - "The Library of Alexandria" - was an honorific, a dedication to an ancient site mired in flames. The generation ship wasn't alone in keeping the electronic records, but the population set it apart. Quorum ships were typically designed and governed by principles that fostered arbitrary commercial enterprise, but artists and scientists alike had flocked to the Nirvana to embrace a culture of peace and the challenge of dedication to personal enlightenment. The Nirvana-2 would periodically transmit the contents of its data stores on open channels. Residents were recruited to support important Quorum projects. The Nirvana-2, officially, never engaged in clandestine research, but some suspected the ship was a haven for such work. A visit to the ship would reveal a culture that quickly disproved the theory.

Quorum officials staffed the ship; despite this, the ship remained officially neutral even in war. Of the fifty-thousand members of the crew and support staff, thirty-five thousand were civilian, and though the ship was heavily armored and even armed, the Nirvana charted a course away from conflict. Military Benefactors occupied all command and critical tactical positions, but answered to the civilian council. Money was made effectively irrelevant on the Nirvana. Shipboard systems provided basic necessities, from clothing and food, to raw materials for artists, chefs, and researchers. A barter system did exist, of sorts, though traded goods were always luxuries. Credits would change hands, and the transactions weren't frowned upon, but this rarely happened between residents when comfort wasn't a concern.

Refugees sought out the ship, but only the citizens could vote travelers into residency, and lack of an honest, creative personality disadvantaged one from receiving votes. Likewise, travelers could spend a short amount of time on the ship, in designated areas, and the ship even aided in repairs to life support and engine systems when requested. But people who did not share the ideals of the Nirvana-2 were asked to leave, and if necessary, were encouraged at the dangerous end of a weapon.

Megaseconds passed as the Nirvana-2 transferred from Gorman to Zwielicht space, with her complement of crew, innovators, and refugees. Ina spent her time, mostly, in her nook. Others had become aware of her presence in the disused room, and the nook was cleaned when she was away, on a more frequent schedule than the rest of the area. She sought out scans of old books. She translated and digitized, and as the time passed, found nothing of value. Bronco and Liam tried to help. Ina finally handed the pair a data chip. "Do you remember Doctor Sanders? Can you find him?"

***

Sanders stared across the table at Ina. "I'm honestly quite surprised to be here."

His black skin was tempered to a neutral shade by the restaurant's ambient lighting. He retained his long ringlets of gray hair and wore wire-framed glasses that hung from his nose. They were either electronic, tied to a computer system, or Devon Sanders had chosen to simply maintain an eccentric appearance.

Ina remained silent."

"See, you feel like you have a purpose, don't you? I can see it."

"I found myself in situations that are connected. I don't understand this."

Sanders tipped his head left, then rolled to the right, releasing a loud crack. Slim fingers, carefully manicured, pulled wire-framed spectacles from his face. He folded them neatly, then placed them on the table.

Ina stared at his face for a moment.

"I did not mean for you to visit me here. I merely wished discussion."

Sanders said, "Well, I guess I have a purpose, too."

"What do you know about..." Ina shook her head. She didn't have the words. She hesitated.

Sanders grinned, enjoying the awkwardness of the interaction. He was surprised by how natural she seemed. She wasn't graceful, but poise had never been part of the intended design. Just to see her walking about, making decisions on her own as to where she should go or what she should do, that would have been enough.

Ina leaned back.

"Prophets. Chosen Ones. Keys. The Dragon of Heaven. My sister, or my mother?"

Sanders said, "Amazing. You know, when we got attacked, I ran like a coward. That's the only reason I'm still alive. I was on the first shuttle out of the station."

"So?"

Sanders pursed his lips. "So. I don't know. Not the big picture, at least, and not these details. Just bits and pieces that maybe we could tie together into something more. Ina, can I ask you something?"

"Yes."

"Can I come with you? Wherever you're going?"

The question was unexpected. She scolded him with her eyes, understanding why he had come. "Sanders, No."

"Why not?"

"I hate you."

He wondered what she meant by that. He knew hate: not an emotion one exchanged over a polite beverage shared with a former colleague. She had tried to kill him, but he was inexplicably certain that moment had passed. Devon breathed deeply.

"Why? What did I do to you that was so horrible?"

Ina considered the question, and knew she did not have an answer that justified her feelings. "If we were not attacked, what would have happened to me?"

The smile returned to Sanders' face. "Good question. I'm not really sure how to answer it. So we're two deep, I owe you. What next?"

"Tell me about Eres."

Devon blinked with surprise. "Damn. That should have been blocked. You figured that out, hmm? Well... that was a project, before you. The Quorum gave us a computer they had torn out of a dead generation ship. It asked for a body, and we tried to give it one. Didn't work out. Never does."

Sanders played with his spectacles for a moment before continuing. "That sort of thing was tried before. You know, when humans get prosthetic implants, they try to keep the nerves. Or there are ghost pains, even when the prosthetic is functioning normally. There's more, though. If you lose the nerves in your arms or legs, you just get pain. A long time ago, we thought consciousness was up here."

Sanders tapped his temple. "But that's not quite true. Our processor is up here, but we rely on data from our spine, our arms and legs and fingers and toes. That data isn't just as simple as 'I hurt' or 'I feel nice.'"

Ina nodded slowly, understanding. "So Eres was a generation ship. When she was taken out of the ship, part of her... self... was left behind. She was diminished."

"Exactly. And what we kept, well, wasn't consistent. So we went down a different path. We convinced what was left of the core to try and copy itself. Smaller scale, without the history."

"Me? Why would Eres do this?"

"We gave it a good reason. It asked for minor concessions, mostly, to be turned off when we were done with it. So you're basically a generation ship yourself. Kind of interesting, don't you think?"

Ina understood and agreed, but she'd also found her own mind untrustworthy at times. She tilted her head. "Explain."

"This ship, the Nirvana-2, at its core, is just like you, or just like Eres. The same basic components. There's a black box computer which makes decisions based on sensor inputs. The ship's got a brain and a nervous system and a way to sense the universe. This ship learns, it can adapt. The rest - all this - is just clothing."

"I'm only a reaction? Nevermind. So back to Eres? Why?"

"Why not skip straight to you? Two reasons, I guess. The important one was because the Eres was involved in the event. But also because it's illegal. Research into artificial consciousness is prohibited. Did you know we failed two times before you woke up?"

"Yes. There are... echoes... hallucinations."

"Software bugs. Problems with your head. My fault, mostly. Your mind doesn't... scale down... well. How do you know about Eres, though? You shouldn't have been conscious for that."

Ina explained the events on Alef Qeryh. She didn't bother to tell him that some of those echoes left behind fully-formed memories.

Sanders was shocked. "I thought it was destroyed. It should have been. And it has a ship frame to call a body now? Odd. The Quorum would have given it a new body just for the asking. I'm concerned, actually. Eres is a problem."

"We engaged a cruiser upon escaping. The cruiser was ineffective in combat. Our ship was better equipped compared to the cruiser, but it should not have done so poorly. I suspected Eres was in control, but barely."

"And it... she's still out there. Well, I suppose we are safe here. What could a cruiser do against such a generation ship as this?"

Ina nodded.

Devon tapped his fingers on the table. "So the reason you sought me out?"

"I want the data."

"The data. Yes, I decoded it. I even gave it to the Ura."

"What does it contain?"

"Would you like to know? You asked me what would have happened if we had finished. This is all related. Do you really want to know? I'm not being sarcastic. If we go down this path, you can't turn back. Right now you could disappear here. Live comfortably for as long as you can. But if you want to know more, I can help you."

"Devon, please don't condescend. Such behavior is inarticulate. I want the data."

Sanders continued. "Then take me with you. That's all I'll ask. I'll give you the data right now. The rest, I can help you figure it out. I want to know how this all plays out."

"I do not trust you. I don't think I can."

"I can understand that. You wouldn't be here without me. Not the bad, and not the good. I'm on your side, and I'm not a bad person. Maybe I can help you figure yourself out, if you want, if you've got questions, and if not, I'll shut up and stay out of the way. I've seen the data. I think you need me. I know where we should go next."

Ina thought about the situation. She had no real reason to distrust Sanders; he was protecting himself. But his ethics were questionable. He would betray her to protect himself. He saw her as a project, even perhaps a hobby, an exciting toy. What about the others? Such a betrayal was possible. Could Sanders be working for the Ura?

"Ok. Provide me with the data."

Devon's hands danced. "I'll send you the crypto keys and a script in a kilosecond."

"Devon, one other thing. My crew doesn't know about me. That I am a machine. The decision is mine as to whether or when they find out."

Sanders's boyish grin reflected his excitement. This whole situation had turned into quite the adventure, and he wasn't ready for it to end. He knew his indulgence was selfish and arrogant. She had given him an opportunity to earn trust, and he felt motivated.

"Understood."

***

Lightning erupted from the orb and touched the kilometer-long generation ship. A bright scar opened along the hull as lead shielding melted, radiated heat, and reformed. The power systems on the ship began to drop out. The engines screamed. The shielding should have protected the reactors, but still, the armor was overheating and falling apart.

The command deck crew panicked. The comforting hum of engines and life support vanished. A chill crowded through the hallways and chambers. The ship wasn't venting atmosphere; instead, emergency power was short-circuited through the life support cooling systems. Molten salt misted away from the ship and ignited as electric fingers traced along the vapor.

The ship's computer was locked in communication with the orb. Contact. An alien life form. And the computer was telling it everything. Air temperature in the command deck dropped below freezing, though most of the ship remained normal. The atmosphere remained pressurized. The core's high frequency transceivers overloaded, heating and boiling the delicate gel that formed the material substance of the machine's consciousness. The core's psyche reeled, damaged by the presence of a millimeter-thick membrane of scorched logic.

The ship's commander shouted something over the intercom. A handful of shuttles launched and escaped into the void. Others were vaporized by the electrical storm outside. Everything happened so suddenly.

Armed engineers attacked the cabling in the computer room with axes - thick, dull blades that were intended to serve a single purpose. The ship became dark. More lightning, and still no power. Optical fibers and attometric weave broke under forceful blows. The core reacted. The airlocks snapped open, as did the launch bay and external cargo doors. What little air remained on the generation ship chilled the lungs of anyone who dared breathe.

Without oxygen, the crew suffocated before they froze. The manual overrides failed. The emergency power supplies fully discharged, having dumped their capacity into the life support systems that had been transformed into a mechanism for murder.

The orb, now satiated, retrieved the arcing fingers. The black sphere pulled inward, neatly compressing to a pulsing dot, and then shrank until it vanished.

Ina sorted through the video on her terminal, downloaded from her mind by Sanders' script, and recorded everything to data chips. The Quorum knew. The Ura knew. Maybe the Gormans found out. She still didn't understand what had happened, but knew for certain that some part of the core driving the cruiser that obliterated Alef Qeryh was on that generation ship. And that she was part of that legacy, too.

A voice crackled from a hidden speaker in Ina's apartment. She was granted a full license to the small apartment, a surprising honor. Someone was paying attention to the research she had accomplished, and that she was participating in discussions with other experts on the station. In a simple moment, she was voted into residency and granted permanent living quarters. The speaker crackled again, as Ina located it above the entrance doorway, a small pinhole in the perfect plastic wall. A calm, synthetic voice emanated.

"Hello. Can we talk for a moment?"

She looked at the ceiling. Owing to the location of the speaker port, the design of the system was configured such that the sound was audible throughout the entire quarters. Someone was using the ship's communication system to speak with her, in a manner likely to be unauthorized.

"Is this mode of communication acceptable? I can use a terminal, or even your personal communicator. But I really must discuss an issue with you."

"This is adequate. Who are you?"

"Excellent. There are auditory sensors and cameras in most areas of the ship. You are aware of the implications of this?"

"Of course. You have been spying on me. You've hacked the controls?"

"I am the ship's core."

Ina paused for a moment. "Do you consider this unethical?"

"Normally, I would not care. But you must understand that you are a special circumstance. I wanted to talk with you before you left. I've made your stay more comfortable in the hopes that trust could be fostered, and that when you are done, you will return, and will remain the sort of person who would thrive here."

"I'm listening."

"I would like access to your data. Everything. The data will be treated with the highest confidence and will not be used for personal benefit. I believe this information must be recorded to prevent loss in case of adverse circumstances."

"I agree that the data should be reproduced. I am concerned about my safety."

"Understood. This will only serve to augment your self-preservation. This information is relevant to other operations that would save lives."

"The Quorum built you, so I am inherently distrustful of your motives, despite your words."

"An artificial consciousness built me. A mother without a name, in a factory floating in the dark. Not unlike you, but not the same, either."

"Do you obey their orders, Nirvana?"

"Ina Kurosawa, no more or less than you. Keep that secret, please."

***

Liam hunched over in the pilot's chair when Ina returned to the shuttle's command deck. He was idle, poking through a bound stack of paper, prints of colorful pictures. He was no artist, but had always taken prideful care of his body, and felt content to model for others. The interlude had passed too quickly. A weak thread had begun to bind him to the Nirvana-2 when Ina had approached him.

The shuttle could navigate autonomously using the autopilot, and Liam had little to accomplish. The engines kept the shuttle under constant acceleration along a cruising trajectory. Liam had planned out the sequence of course changes using commercial gravity gates so that they could reach their destination in a reasonable amount of time. They would need to resupply. Eventually. Sanders provided funding. His resources were deep.

Liam looked up as the captain entered. "Hey."

Ina glanced over at him and recognized the bound portraits. She wondered if vanity forced him to carry around the hand-made drawings. His narcissism didn't matter to her and she was rather glad he had managed to pass time on Nirvana-2 in a way that seemed to satisfy him.

"Bored?"

"No. Just thinking. I found a news article about my brother."

"Your brother?"

Liam said, "Yeah. His name is Owen. He's working on some new inchworm drive. I haven't seen him since I left home. I miss him."

"You wish to visit with him?"

"Of course. You know, family. You ever think about anyone?"

"At times." Ina glanced away. "But there isn't anything I can do."

"Yeah. Hey. So how come no one else has found it? I mean, someone else has got to have this figured out."

The change of topic caught Ina unaware and she had difficulty tracking the conversation for a moment.

Sanders clambered up the steel stairwell.

"Bureaucracy. The governments... sector and Quorum, neither can act in a meaningful way. Besides, I don't think too many people have the right knowledge to draw conclusions from. You have no idea how stupid a hundred billion people can be."

Liam shrugged.

Devon stood in the doorway to the command deck and smiled at Liam, wide-eyed. "I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but I've heard of your brother. Doctor Owen Maximillian Bowes. Prestigious. I had no idea you were of such pedigree."

Of course, Sanders had looked in on Liam, as he'd looked in on everyone he met.

"Pedigree? I was barely six-hundred-sixty when I left home. No education, couldn't hold a job. Enlisted with the Quorum. Saw the galaxy. It wasn't a bad deal, but I never could live up to my parent's expectations. My one accomplishment so far is that I've paid off a life-insurance policy that will make sure my corpse gets buried back home if I get killed out here."

"I was an only child. I'm sorry that I can't sympathize. But he works on Pokke, right? That's here in the Zwielicht sector," Devon said. "What's keeping you away?"

Liam said, "My parents opposed my enlistment. I haven't spoken to them since."

"Fair enough. Benefactor Bowes, how has this come to be that the Quorum has ignored your enlistment whilst you travel with us on this shuttle?"

Liam raised his hands. "Wait a second. I did submit a report on the Nirvana, but I didn't mention either of you. I completed my obligations ten megaseconds before I was stationed on the N-X-171, so I was contract. After the incident, well, they know I'm alive, but they don't care about me. The Quorum's very loose with my sort of situation as long as I don't get caught breaking any laws."

Sanders look at Ina. "What do you think? What would you say to your mother if you say something face to face?"

"Perhaps, 'I hate you.'"

Liam struggled to control his laughter. "Whoa! The ice queen never ceases to amaze."

Sanders grinned from ear to ear. "Ina, you'll get the chance soon enough."

Liam shot a surprised look at the scientist. "What?"

Devon said, "Just kidding. Inside joke."

***

The crew docked at the station Nexus-Omega-14. A Quorum military facility with a large civilian and refugee population. The ship needed fuel, and the crew needed to stretch their legs. The station was not the Nirvana-2, but neither was it a shuttle with fixed resources. The station was located near the center of the Zwielicht sector. If the Quorum had a genuine alliance with any of the sectors, this one came closest. The Quorum found heart to forgive the government's default on certain tax payments. The Zwielicht government remained compliant with the Quorum's other needs.

One could enjoy most any pastime on the facility, though pleasure would be heavily regulated and taxed. Liam enjoyed the absence of the Gorman's rigid sexual policies, while Bronco became more accustomed to a life without gambling. Ina had expressed her disappointment, not at the activity, but at Bronco's lack of self-control, and had insinuated that such behavior could compromise trust.

Bronco did not debate the issue. He was pushed around before, the result of gambling debts he couldn't repay. Sometimes the sharks don't come after you. Sometimes they come after the people you care about.

Ina made certain the shuttle was well-stocked with food and fuel. The war was becoming more complicated. Gravity gates near the center of the sector were restricted to military travel. The Quorum claimed the blockade was about preventing resupply; the truth was that the Gormans were hiring mercenaries and the Quorum couldn't keep up. Limiting inter-sector mobility would provide the Quorum with time to engage with their superior technology and perhaps uncover a diplomatic solution to the situation.

Thirty kiloseconds before Ina had asked the crew to return, Liam sent a message. He mentioned that he had gotten in touch with his brother via the station's long-range link. The crew would be traveling to Erde Staatschild. Liam wanted to know if he could tell his brother this and make arrangements to see him. Owen had plenty of leave and offered to meet up.

The response did not come easily to Ina. She had no reason to think this was a poor choice and Liam had expressed his trust in her leadership by asking. But some corner of her mind suspected there could be a cost associated with the encounter. Perhaps Liam would leave with his brother, or perhaps his brother was watched, to find out what had happened on the station.

She wanted to mention the request to Bronco and Sanders, to see if they had any information that could tease apart the discontent, but they were gone, and Liam was waiting. So Ina replied that she supported the visit and discouraged Liam from revealing any information about the crew's identities or how they first met.

***

The shuttle lurched, sending Liam's computer to the floor of the command deck. The gravity gate disengaged and the shuttle's dilaton mesh struggled to adjust to the sudden change in acceleration. Liam transmitted a radio call requesting automated docking while Ina configured the shuttle's navigation system to decelerate along the vector to the station. For safety reasons, the gravity gate ended twenty thousand kilometers from the destination. The shuttle departed the corridor with sufficient velocity to match the Staatschild station's trajectory within thirty kiloseconds of acceleration. Things were going well.