Over the very edge of Tagtrum’s waters and western islands, Faustina flew low and slow. It gave them all one last chance to look at their lands before they turned northwest and headed across open sea.

Camellia leaned over the rail. Wind ruffled the cool northern plains. The sky was blue, and clouds slid by. Yet, Camellia felt dark inside, unsure how creatures like Ah’nee’thit – like herself – could exist in such a place. Yet, here they were.

Eva joined Camellia at the rail. “Meladee is ready to speed up. You can’t stay out here.”

“I know.” Camellia took her hands off the rail and turned away from the view. She almost headed inside the cockpit. “Wait…doesn’t Meladee want a chance to look out one last time?”

Eva shook her head. “I asked her. I offered to steer. She said no.”

Camellia knit her brow. “Make her.”

As soon as the order left her mouth, Camellia felt strange. She shouldn’t be telling Meladee how to deal with this situation, but she felt Meladee would have regrets if she didn’t get that final look. She felt Meladee had a lot of regrets actually.

“Yes, indeed.” Eva smiled and re-entered the cockpit.

Camellia couldn’t hear their discussion, but she watched Eva take the wheel from Meladee and shoo her out. Words passed between the two, and finally, with a sour expression, Meladee headed to the cockpit door. She opened it and stepped out.

“Who made you captain?” Meladee asked.

Camellia winced. “No one. I just don’t want you to have…regrets.”

Meladee didn’t answer. She leaned on the rail and looked over. She glanced at the plains and waving grass, but then set her eyes on the sea. Finally, Meladee said, “Don’t worry about me. I won’t regret it. Tagtrum’s okay, I guess. What I’d really miss is the sea and the sky. But, I can’t lose those. They’re everywhere. They’re a bit different, depending on where you go, but they’re everywhere.”

At the rail, Camellia joined Meladee. Camellia had seen enough of the land below, so she looked at friend. “Really? You won’t miss Tagtrum? I recall you said you didn’t want to live in Groaza.”

Meladee kind of smiled. She didn’t look up. “Damn. Well, alright. I’ll play. I’ll look at…” Meladee gestured beyond the rail. “…this place. Will that make you happy?”

Camellia stared out to sea. “Only if it makes you happy.” She frowned and lowered her eyes. “I feel responsible. You might be giving up your ship.” Camellia smoothed the rail, preoccupied with the look of the wood. “Once we get to Lurren, we’ll land Faustina and search for a space ship. Depending on how low-key we plan to travel, Faustina might get left on the beach – alone, unused. Until we need to replenish our food stores.”

At those words, Meladee reacted. She reacted so strong that Camellia received telepathic whispers, inklings of panic and regret, in full daylight. Camellia startled and looked at Meladee.

Now, Meladee stroked Faustina’s rail. “You are responsible. I wouldn’t make a trip like this without you.” Meladee looked over her ship, from stern to bow. She took the whole thing in. “Don’t feel bad. She’s a very old ship. I’ll just miss her.”

“When I think about it, I hired you to take me to one island. I never expected you to chauffeur me around the northern hemisphere.” Camellia put her hands to her heart. “It’s my dream…” Camellia paused and corrected herself. “No...my obsession to see what’s outside the wormhole. Not yours.”

Meladee reached for Camellia. “You have no idea how willing I am to abandon things.” Though Meladee reached for Camellia, she never touched her. She looked Camellia in the eyes. “You really have no idea. I’ve left everyone and everything I cared about behind. Three times, and you had nothing to do with those.” Meladee touched her chest. “This is me. It’s what I do. So, I don’t care. I can leave Faustina if I have to. I’ve done it before.” Meladee turned to the cockpit door and grabbed the handle. She didn’t open it. “Besides, I have to know what that thing is and if it can be killed. I picked you up thinking I’d earn some quick cash, and I find out there’s some freakish monster hovering on the edge of civilization. Hell, there’s one right in the middle of civilization. I can’t live free with those things around. Plus, now I’ve got Alastronia after me...again.” Meladee sighed. “Sloppy bridge burn there.”

Meladee pulled the door open, and Camellia followed, her curiosity in Meladee’s past ignited. She doubted Meladee would give up the details so easily or at all.

“You’re motivated entirely by fear?” Eva asked.

Meladee and Camellia both froze.

“You listen to all of that?” Meladee narrowed her eyes.

Eva smiled. “Just the part you said by the door. I have good hearing too, you know.” Eva relinquished the helm. “This adventure turned out differently than I planned as well. I planned to leave Lurren, not to return.” Eva looked between Camellia and Meladee. “You offered me help instead. If I found someone other than the two of you, my ship might have been impounded and studied. Probably myself as well. I left Lurren with no idea of the real risk.” Eva frowned. “Maybe I should follow your example next time and entertain some of that fear.”

Camellia said, “If you think so.”

“A little fear is a good thing.” Meladee checked her helm.

A moment later, Faustina sped up and veered away from the land.

“Headed for your coordinates,” Meladee said.

The cockpit went quiet. Camellia knew this was it. They would not turn back.

“This friendship bracelet you gave me,” Eva began, startling the silence. “I will cherish it for as long as I function.” Eva raised her wrist to show off her red bracelet – the one Camellia had purchased on their hike to Ah’nee’thit’s temple.

Meladee fingered her wrist. She wore her blue version of the bracelet.

Camellia didn’t show off hers, but the purple jewels hung by her side. “Friendship bracelets? I guess so.” Camellia paused. She wanted to remember this moment. She couldn’t bring herself to smile, which she felt was strange but acceptable. “That reminds me...” Camellia reached inside her bag and handed a wad of bills to Meladee. “I owe you this money. Probably a lot more.”

Meladee took the money. “Yeah you do. You owe me money. But…we’ll be sharing funds for a while, so it doesn’t really matter.” Meladee smiled. She looked out the windows at open sea. “Ready to burn this bridge?”

Inside, Camellia cried, No! Adalhard. She didn’t say it. Instead, she said, “Yes. We might as well.”

Meladee and Eva steered Faustina in shifts. They estimated their flight to take three days, and Meladee would need to sleep before their arrival. Camellia received no flight time, so she spent her time packing food into their magic bags. Of course, she had her own, which sat full and worn – a good, old friend. In Frieden, she’d purchased two more bags like it, for Meladee and Eva. They needed to travel light but carry enough food and clothes to get them through the trip. No one wanted to eat food from Lurren, even if Eva claimed she could detect whether it was flesh free.

Each woman also prepared her defenses. Eva made some adjustments to her freeze ray and organized cannibalized materials from her ship; materials she could use to convert a turret gun to a freeze ray.

Meladee kept her handkerchief on her person at all times and created a dozen disposable scrolls of the ice blast casting circle.

Camellia prepared for a possible encounter too. She practiced her telepathic defenses and rested. She always felt more able to handle her father when she’d slept well, and though it seemed against intuition, she felt more capable at night – the time when he was strongest too.

If they’d made the trip sooner, Camellia would have depended on Lurren’s polar night. So late in the season, they’d missed it. Still, sunrise in Lurren would occur late in the morning, and sunset would be early. Camellia, grateful for the short day, clutched her daywalker pendant and wished the day was shorter still.

Camellia also held her version of the telepathic defense spell. As a last minute preparation, Meladee made the talisman. Scrawled on paper, it was weaker than the embroidered version, but it would have to be enough to aid Camellia when the sun was high.

By sunset on the third day, they approached Lurren. Camellia stood by a window and looked out. Meladee flew Faustina into the forgotten continent, and Camellia and Eva bore witness.

“No more Northwest Squall. We just flew right through the place it should be.” Meladee shook her head. “I’m telling you…I think people are going to notice that.”

“Good thing we’re taking care of it.” Eva crossed her arms. If she felt any guilt about her role in the squall’s absence, she didn’t show it.

The deactivated Lurrien defense system rested somewhere in far off Lurrien mountains. The waves below still churned, disturbed by Lurren’s secondary defense systems, but they couldn’t reach little Faustina. Camellia, who had never experienced the storms, relied on her friends’ descriptions of both the bad weather and its causes.

Meladee flew over the tossed water, through the calm air, and landed Faustina on a picturesque yet cold beach. Unlike most beaches, this one possessed almost no flora. A rare shock of grass sprung up here and there, but Camellia saw mainly sand and rocks. Clouds blocked the sun and cast everything in dim light. Camellia thought the continent looked depressed.

“That handkerchief must be working. I can’t feel anything,” Meladee said. She stroked Faustina goodbye and enacted her four-ringed binding spell.

Her spell glowed around the ship, unwavering. If no one saw her create the spell, they couldn’t find her to end her life and, thus, the spell. Faustina would be safe, even if the ship became a tomb.

Camellia studied the distance. The beach stretched along the coast but not far inland. Their path ahead consisted of rocks, a few plants, and dirt. She wanted to listen for telepathic traffic but kept her mind to herself, behind tight shields. The world felt so silent.

“I don’t feel the creature either, but night is coming. I might feel something during the day.” Camellia craned her neck. “Where is it? It’s just open…”

“Look a bit longer. Focus on the horizon. It’s there.” Eva pointed.

Camellia took Eva’s advice. She focused. She searched the far-off landscape, lit by a grey sunset. She saw the uneven line of the horizon. No sign of the large one...Oh wait. Camellia gazed into the semidarkness. Shadowy masses quivered, like mountains of jelly.

“Let’s go.” Eva led them on.

They traveled inland, and Camellia glimpsed ruins. She saw shattered shacks, quite literally pieces of drift wood and stray metal. She saw the remains of boats and other vehicles. No structures stood – truly stood – and only a few Lurrien-made items dotted the land. Camellia saw mostly nature and all that it had reclaimed.

Absent from the scene was the flesh. Eva warned that would change.

Eva pointed ahead. “That building is where everyone hibernates. Our bunker.”

Camellia studied the bunker. Squat, half-buried, of cream stone, it beckoned them forward, with recessed door.

“We can rest there today,” Eva said.

Camellia’s eyes drifted skyward.

Twilight had washed out her view of the stars. Day approached.

“Rest would be good.” Camellia knew the creature could reach her mind anywhere it pleased, but she would feel safer underground, in hiding.

Meladee picked up her pace. “Not that I want Faustina in the grip of the thing’s smooshy tentacles, but couldn’t we have flown farther in? We haven’t seen any fleshy stuff, and we just used a day’s travel.”

Eva shook her head. “No. I would never risk it. The closer we go and the larger we are, the more curious the thing will become.” Eva narrowed her eyes. “It would send automatons – its servants – and I don’t want to be greeted by them. Then, Faustina really would have something to be shocked about.”

Eva led them to the bunker and twisted some gears on the door, a kind of mechanical code. The door unlocked, and a wheel spun on the outside. The door clicked open. They entered.

Eva closed the door behind them, and for a moment, they stood in perfect darkness. Then, Eva activated lights, and blue lanterns illuminated a long hall.

“I’ve read about this place,” Meladee said. “It doesn’t end well for us. Lots of ghosties.”

“Relax. The only thing in here is more robots. I’ll wake some.” Eva strode down the hall.

Camellia’s mouth drifted open. “Did she say she’d wake some?” Camellia wanted to see robots more than she realized.

Meladee’s eyes widened. In a quiet voice, she said, “You do know what more robots means, right?”

Camellia said nothing. She just shook her head.

“It means we might find ourselves in the middle of some dystopian society that has no place for organics.”

Camellia looked at the worn hall. “It already looks pretty dystopian to me.” Camellia crept forward. “Let’s have a look.”

Meladee grabbed her arm. “Are you crazy?”

From down the hall, a click and whir sped. Meladee and Camellia jumped. They grabbed each other, and a small robot zipped towards their feet. It stopped just in front of them.

“I’m Wheelian. Want to play?” The little robot was an elongated ball. The ends of the ball spun, acting like wheels, while an unmoving center was home to the thing’s face. Its smile and eyes looked plastic, and its skinny arms ended in gloved hands. In place of a nose, it had a plastic mustache.

“Play what?” Camellia asked, finding the thing’s design off-putting.

“Wheeling.”

“No thanks,” Meladee answered. “We’re tired.”

Another robot emerged. This one was considerably larger. The robot, a box on wheels, watched them. Its eyes stretched up on metal stalks, and skinny arms reached forward. It rolled down the hall and stopped behind Wheelian. It folded clawed hands in front of its box. “I am Tiny Tin.”

That is not tiny. If Camellia assumed the pose of a bundled mummy, she would fit inside the box.

“We don’t wanna play.” Meladee shifted under its gaze.

Tiny Tin’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t play! I’m a repair robot. The nerve of these organics. I suppose you think I’m cute.”

“They don’t think you’re cute.” Eva strolled down the hall. “You’ve lost touch. You can’t read organics at all.”

Tiny Tin’s eyes swiveled to take in Eva. “You? Read organics? Don’t make me laugh.”

Eva smiled. Two more robots came with her. She held the first on the palm of her hand. It was a spring – a slinky really. Atop the slinky were eyes, squishy and expressive. The second robot flowed behind Eva, like an upright puddle. It was a silver, faceless mass.

“These are Spring Peeper and Ferrou.” Eva offered the spring to Camellia.

It hopped into Camellia’s hand, and she was surprised to find it silky and eerily soft.

Eva said, “Spring Peeper and Wheelian are children’s toys, abandoned when the organics died. Tiny Tin and Ferrou are repair robots, each intended for a different environment. They might be able to help me convert a turret and locate a suitable ship.”

“Sure, those guys can, but the toys?” Meladee asked, raising her eyebrows.

“Spring Peeper and Wheelian can’t help. I woke them to entertain you.” Eva gestured to Camellia.

Camellia stroked the spring. She stopped.

Meladee complained, “I don’t play with toys. Look, I want to sleep. Just show me where.”

Eva raised an eyebrow. “Alright.” She pointed to the doors that lined the hall. “Pick any of these. We were supposed to have organics in this bunker. Obviously, that didn’t work out. You can be the first.”

Camellia counted the doors. There were twenty-one.

Everyone laid down to sleep, even Eva. She took a few hours, but then, she rose, long before the others. She exited the bunk quietly and found Tiny Tin waiting.

“You should wake more of us.” He rolled to her side.

“That depends on what you plan to do. I want synthetics that’ll help us retrieve a ship. No whistle blowers that might wake the androids.” Eva walked to a supply room. She thumbed the door and found Wheelian, Spring Peeper, and Ferrou.

“You think one of us might wake androids? You locked me out of the protocols.”

“I’m sorry. You always said my ideas lacked proper research and preparation. I’m taking your advice. No chances.” Eva beckoned the other robots out of the supply room.

“I see that. You found organics.” Tiny Tin swiveled his eye to the door, behind which sleeping organics lay. “I think it’s time you finally get that ship.” Tiny Tin opened a panel on his case and displayed a digital readout. “I’ve compiled a list of who to wake. Synthetics who will be struck by the sheer presence of organics. All repair robots.”

Eva read the list.

Ferrou burbled.

“Yes. More!” Wheelian agreed. “We will frolick together like old times along the beach.”

“Alright, I’ll wake the bots on your list.” Eva put her hands on her hips. “But, temper your expectations. Whatever ship we get won’t be a big one.”

Tiny Tin inclined his eye stalks. He knew. Eva implied she’d have to leave most of them behind.

The next evening, Camellia woke to the sound of Eva’s voice and the whine of mechanical limbs.

“I think there’s an army of robots outside,” Meladee said. She sat on her bunk, cross-legged and scribbled on a spare page from her spellbook.

“You haven’t looked?” Camellia propped herself up.

“Heck no. Besides, I’ve been working on Ah’nee’thit’s message. There are like six different spells here. I can try each one on a piece of the flesh and see if it does anything, but I keep thinking the creature wants me to make a new spell. Cause these are all fairly simple Agaric Healer fare.”

Camellia stood up and took the paper from Meladee. “Hmmmm. What happens when you combine elements of all the spells?”

“That’s it. I don’t know. Ah’nee’thit clearly has something particular in mind. And, guess what? It’s way over my head.” Meladee made a swiping motion.

“Take a break. Let’s go see the army of robots.” Camellia opened their door and saw that army.

Thin repair bots stood along the walls. They fidgeted, possessing more arms than they had any right to have. Small, squat boxes sat in front of them, rolling on treads. A few odd shaped robots peppered the group, including at least two more of Ferrou’s make.

Eva stood at the center. “Teams one and two will convert the turrets on the border of the flesh. Teams three and four will scout for ships. I will be in contact by com number…” Eva held a small device in her hand and checked its number as she spoke. “08463. Report any serviceable ships to me and salvage other materials. Remember to decontaminate all materials for flesh.” Eva glanced at Camellia and Meladee but continued her orders. “Team five will bolster defense in the uninfected areas. Create a refrigerated perimeter that can simulate Winter temperatures year round. Be quiet about your activities and remember to disinfect yourselves regularly.” Eva stopped her instructions, and the robots dispersed. They headed for the exit, breaking into their teams as they went.

“You have a little army,” Camellia said, as she stepped out of the room.

“Yeah. That’s perfect. This insanity is totally doable now. Good job.” Meladee watched as the last robots filed out.

Camellia narrowed her eyes. “I thought the other synthetics disagreed with your actions.”

“They do, especially the androids. But, these are simpler. They follow someone’s lead.” Eva looked askance. “I also might have inspired them with the sight of sleeping organics. I hope I didn’t disturb your rest.”

“Wha…?” Meladee said.

“Uh, no.” Camellia felt herself grow warm. She didn’t like the idea of being watched while she slept, but if it earned them help, she’d deal with it.

Eva turned for the door. “We need to get moving and scout for a ship.”

The original four robots followed Eva: Tiny Tin, Wheelian, Spring Peeper, and Ferrou.

“They’re coming,” Eva said. “They could use a purpose.”

“Cool. We’re a team. What’s our number?” Meladee asked.

“Zero.”

Camellia let the others get ahead. Then, she followed. As she walked, she studied the quiet bunker and hoped night would await her outside. She wanted it to protect her from the one Ah’nee’thit feared.

The Lurrien night proved darker than most. No streetlights punctured their path, and when Camellia looked up at the sky, she got a clear view of Iruedim’s few stars and the galaxies that went about their business so far off. She could just make out the location of the wormhole, but unlike stars, it didn’t emit light.

Eva led the trek across Lurren. The deeper inland they traveled, the more flesh they saw. Veiny and scarred flesh encrusted the remains of Lurrien civilization, from foundations to towers to toppled stone. Boulders pulsed, and rivers of muscle stretched across the ground. The team stepped over and around the grotesque flora. The flesh, unlike Ah’nee’thit’s, was red. It looked like raw meat, but Camellia didn’t find it appetizing.

Meladee tested her spells on an isolated but robust pocket of the creature: an island of flesh. Camellia feared they would attract the creature’s notice, but Meladee performed her magic with no effect. The spells barely damaged the flesh, and Camellia and her friends felt no telepathic stirrings.

Disappointed with their little experiment, Camellia took joy in the robots’ efforts to avoid the flesh. She’d always thought robots would be devoid of emotion, lacking the humanoid appearance that Eva possessed. But, Eva’s fellow synthetics made their way over the land with a kind of comical distaste. Tiny Tiny used supports in his base to hoist himself over the veins. His eye stalks stayed high as he searched for his path, and his digital eyes narrowed and widened as they beheld the landscape. Ferrou just tumbled from clear space to clear space, like a puddle performing backflips. Once in a while, he stopped and backtracked, like a jester in mid-tumble. Wheelian and Spring Peeper hopped over the flesh. Every so often they requested help. Wheelian raised his arms to Meladee and silently asked to be carried. Spring Peeper came to Camellia’s leg and wrapped around it. As the flesh mounds multiplied, Meladee carried Wheelian while Camellia plucked Spring Peeper from her leg. She preferred to carry him high against her chest.

Far in the distance, Camellia spotted tall moving objects. Uneasily, she wondered what they could be.

Meladee sidled close. “What are those?” she whispered to Camellia.

Camellia looked between the horizon and Meladee. “I don’t know. Why don’t you ask Eva? She’s our Lurrien expert.”

Meladee thrust her chin in the direction of the movement. “Hey, Eva. What’s that?”

Eva missed Meladee’s gesture. She looked all around. Wheelian pointed in the correct direction.

“Thanks,” Meladee said, her arms full of the little robot.

Eva watched. She stayed still and silent a long time.

Camellia also peered into the distance. “Moving shadows. Are they tentacles?”

Eva watched a little longer before she gave an answer, “No. They’re automatons. Flesh covered organics and synthetics. They’re tending the creature. They’re going to come close. Keep moving, and then, when I tell you to stop…” Eva beckoned them and picked her way over the land. Her anticipated order hung in the air. “Stop.”

They stood in a clearing, surrounded by knots of flesh. They stopped.

In the darkness, long armed humanoids moved. Short tentacles wriggled from their heads to their feet. Where their appendages should be, were long branches. The automatons came close. Water dripped from their limbs, dropping like fine rain onto dry flesh. The automatons moved over the strip of flesh. They began to pass but suddenly stopped and turned. They had no eyes, but they stared at team zero.

Camellia felt her heart beat fast. She heard Meladee’s heart pump, and Camellia swore, she heard something speed up in all of the synthetics, from Eva to Spring Peeper.

Eva remained still, and her companions copied. Finally, the automatons moved on. They resumed their sprinkle dance, drizzling water over parched monstrosity.

Eva resumed the trek. Several steps later, she explained, “I don’t think they’ll save that string. Much too dry. They might have to cut it free before it turns necrotic.” Eva gestured to veins, separated from the larger mass.

The separated pocket looked black not red. It didn’t pulse. It lay cracked and crumbling.

Eva scoffed. “You’d would think it was dying. Still, it spreads. Necrotic flesh and all.” Eva led them, and several moments passed. Then, she stopped and raised her hand. “We’re far enough now. We need to take some time to disinfect. Meladee and Camellia, take the pills I gave you. The rest of us will have to spray ourselves down.”

Meladee swallowed the pill, with an eagerness unmatched. The medicine warded off the beginnings of infection within twenty-four hours but not beyond. According to Eva, as long as organics took the drug, they seemed safe from infection, but organics that felt the creature’s telepathic call, stopped ingesting their drugs. Camellia also took her pill. Then, she found a clear place to sit.

With a bleach solution, Camellia sprayed Spring Peeper. He turned and twisted to catch the spray, and due to his size and flexibility, Camellia completed her job before the others. A few feet away, Meladee sprayed down Wheelian, a much harder task due to his inability to sit still. Meladee persevered and covered every crevice and cranny with bleach.

Why bring them? Camellia wondered. Why risk it?

She watched as Eva, Ferrou, and Tiny Tin hosed each other down. They had a familiarity that Eva still didn’t have with Camellia and Meladee. The way Eva moved around her synthetic friends was…Camellia couldn’t describe it. Eva didn’t seem more comfortable or even less formal. She just seemed familiar and thorough and a bit caring.

Eva didn’t want to leave them. She’s sentimental.

Camellia looked at Spring Peeper. The toy sat by her knees. Its eyes flicked up to her face and she pet its ‘head.’

“There’s a turret near here,” Eva said. “We’re going to try to convert it. We can hike there and set up camp.”

An hour later, Eva sat astride the turret. She added components to its barrel. Tiny Tin worked on the base, and Ferrou worked on the gun’s trigger.

“We better sleep.” Meladee pointed to a coming sunrise.

Camellia nodded and laid down.

While Meladee curled around Wheelian, Camellia laid on her back and let Spring Peeper hop atop her breast.

At the AAH headquarters, dim lights twinkled over a dinner party. Camellia saw Cernunnos across the room. He had a dozen dates, practically a harem. Camellia wondered where they would all sit, until she saw Cernunnos’ seat, built upwards like a tree, with several levels and additional chairs. They would sit above him.

Adalhard passed Camellia. He headed to his own ornate chair – something borrowed from the museum basement, a valuable yet useful carving of wood and gold. Around the chair’s arm, the archival ticket still hung.

Camellia sighed and searched for her seat. She stole glances at Adalhard and wondered why he would ignore her so completely. Maybe, he had another woman. Maybe, there was something new and incriminating in her room. Another secret she had forgotten about and failed to guard. She looked at Adalhard and longed.

As chair of the AAH, Adalhard stayed in Groaza. He could serve for a century and settle down.

Camellia’s face burned. Maybe, he would have considered her for his partner, but she destroyed the chance.

You blew it. Worse, you were going to be that person. The one who disappeared, with no explanation to friends or family. Camellia felt suddenly awake in her dream. She looked at Cernunnos’ chair again. I’m asleep.

I sleep too, rumbled a distant voice. Summer comes, I wake soon.

Camellia’s dream turned from the party to a diagram of Iruedim’s revolution around the sun. Constellations streamed across the sky, and a chart of temperatures rippled into focus.

Oh no, Camellia thought.

Who?

Camellia felt a familiar tug, a reminder of her father’s intrusive habit. She resisted and found herself in a crowded tower with strong walls and no windows. Shadowy items cluttered every space, except for where she stood. The tug stopped.

Interesting, the creature whispered. It struggled to squeeze through her defense.

A few thoughts made it, and Camellia saw two streams of sand fall from cracks in the walls. The creature’s thoughts hijacked her own.

Complex evolutionary diagrams displayed a stream of changes, stemming from one humanoid individual and ending in several different people. Two of which the creature highlighted. She understood one humanoid to represent Lurriens and another Groazans. Then, distant memories of Groazans and their short involvement in the war against the creature flashed in her mind. Armored men amid banners faced off against a wall of frustration.

Camellia realized that she saw from the creature’s viewpoint. She struggled to wake up. She tried to move and felt a small weight on her chest. Distantly, she heard the sound of tools and a confused “What?” nearby her head.

Camellia’s heart pounded. She opened her eyes and saw Meladee, Spring Peeper, and Wheelian above her.

“Bad dream?”

“The creature contacted me.” Camellia pushed Spring Peeper off her stomach and sat up.

“Are you sure? The spell should be working.” Meladee held out her hand for the paper talisman.

Camellia handed it over. She caught her breath and pulled her damp shirt from her collar.

On the gun turret, Eva stopped and watched.

Meladee unfolded the paper and swore. “Shit. It’s kind of dim. I’m going to redraw over the lines. That should renew it.”

Camellia nodded. She pulled sweat soaked hair from her neck. She still felt Eva’s eyes on her.

Eva’s communication device beeped, and Eva looked away. “Eva here.” She listened for a handful of minutes. “Already? Send me images of it.” Her eyes widened. “This is it? Really?” Eva held her communication device in front of her face and thumbed through some images. Again, she spoke into the device, “Alright, get to the smaller ship and start cleaning it. Contact team three and let them know what parts you need once you’ve assessed it. I’ll head to you.” Eva looked at the rest of the group. “Team four’s drone found a ship three days walk from here. We haven’t finished with this turret, so we’ll have to split up. Tiny Tin, Ferrou, and the toys will stay here. They can take care of each other. We need to go to the ship.”

“Good ship?” Meladee asked.

Eva nodded. “Great ship. It seems some flesh recently necrotized and left something perfect for the taking. I’m starting to think you two are lucky.”

Camellia, still shaking from her dream, did not feel lucky.