Often, when he felt most lonely, he would get a holocall from Vina—as if she had sensed his mood shift.

Today, they talked of the Emperor’s proclamation—it was anything anyone could talk of lately. Opinions on the matter varied greatly. Most approved the sentence, while others thought it was excessive—though few dared to voice too strongly their discontentment. And some were confused, not understanding what was happening in the rim.

“I can’t say that I understand it either,” admitted Vina.

“What is there to not understand?” asked Halden.

“The Qevahri’s actions, I mean. Why are they doing this? They had to know the Imperium wouldn’t just let them get away with it. There’d have to be consequences.”

“Faith is a strange thing. It can make people do crazy things, because they think they have a god watching over them and protecting them, like nothing bad could ever happen to them. Even now, they probably think Saan will shield them from all this.”

Vina wrinkled her nose.

“Religion! Pah. It’s ridiculous. I’ll never understand it. But that doesn’t explain the technology they have. Where does it come from?”

“Maybe they have scientists working for them...”

“Come now! You know that can’t be. You told me yourself the only scientists in all of the Imperium are secreted away at the IAS.”

“That we know of, yes.”

“What does that mean?”

Halden lay on his cot as he spoke to the tri-dimensional image of Vina’s face, floating against his retina.

“Back when science was banned,” he said, “some scientists fled. We know nothing of where these people went or what became of them.”

“That was more than a century ago! They’d all be dead by now.”

“Yes, that’s true, but they could have taught what they knew to a new generation of scientists. The fact is, we don’t know. Anything is possible.”

Vina remained quiet for a moment as she processed the information.

“You think some went to Qevahr and taught science there?”

“It’s not impossible.”

“Surely, someone would have reported it to the authorities.”

“The rim doesn’t always follow the rules, Vina.”

She sighed. “Well, I like this theory better than divine intervention.”

Halden laughed. “So do I.”

They went on to talk about other things—the latest holofilm hits, the weather, Vina’s life... She had stayed on Assalin, where she had gone to visit her family. She hadn’t seen her sister in over a decade and had returned to bury their mother, who had recently passed. Their relationship had been strained and Vina was always uncomfortable discussing it. Often, when the conversation became too personal, she would change the subject. As she did now.

“How long before you arrive?” she asked.

He knew better than to force her to speak about something she did not feel ready to discuss. He smiled, so she’d know he wasn’t upset, and answered as best he could.

“Almost there. Less than an hour now.”

“Have we really talked that long?”

He laughed. They always ended up talking for hours. He didn’t mind. It wasn’t like he had anything better to do on this ship—it didn’t even have an observation deck! And he enjoyed the company.

“Don’t complain. You might not see as much of me once I’m down there.”

She smiled. “I wasn’t complaining.” Her expression became more serious. “You’re going to be very busy, aren’t you?”

“I expect so. But don’t worry, I’ll still make time to talk with you.”

She nodded but didn’t say anything. He could tell something was troubling her.

“A penny for your thoughts.”

Vina smiled. “It’s nothing. I’m just...”

“Yes?”

Her expression became serious again. “What you’re doing, Halden... This thing with your daughter... I mean, have you told your ex-wife about it?”

He frowned. “My ex-wife? Why would I tell her anything?”

“Lucy was her daughter too. Doesn’t she deserve to know?”

Halden remembered all too vividly the last time he’d talked to Marcia. She had cut through his soul as coldly as she cut through corpses.

“There would be no point,” he said. “She doesn’t care. She made it clear the last time we spoke.”

Vina tilted her head. “Surely, that couldn’t be. Every mother cares for their child.”

“She cared.”

“Past tense?”

“I don’t know.” He sighed. “It’s complicated.”

“You never told me what happened between the two of you.”

Halden almost lashed out at her, saying that she’d never told him what happened with her mother, but he held back the retort in time, biting down on his lip. It would not have been fair. He had no reason to be angry with Vina. She had only shown him kindness.

“It’s complicated,” he repeated.

“Alright.”

They both fell quiet, but there was no awkwardness between them. She was giving him space, waiting, understanding; while he was thinking, trying to make sense of all those years he had spent with Marcia.

“After we married,” he finally said, “we moved to Elphine. Marcia is a doctor. Well, at the time, she wanted to be a doctor. I had just graduated and was having trouble finding a job. Elphine seemed like the perfect place. They were always hiring new personnel and made things easier for families. I got a job as an apprentice while Marcia started working in a hospital. Lucy was born there a few months later. But, Vina... That place is not healthy. It is gray. It is dead. There are no trees, no rivers, no mountains. The sky is dark, if you see it at all. We lived deep underground, where all you could see for miles were structures made of metal and glass. All the houses were the same. Bland, bleak, indistinguishable from each other.

“Marcia thrived there. She loved it. She was obsessed with her work and spent most of her time at the hospital. Because of Lucy, we shifted our hours so that one of us would always be there with her, which meant we saw little of each other, and we grew further apart.

“Meanwhile, my health was declining. I needed fresh air, a clear blue sky, a sun shining above my head. But for years I put up with it, thinking it was okay, it would get better, or maybe I would get used to it, like others seemed to. Like Marcia had.

“One day, I cracked. I just couldn’t put up with it anymore. My health had gone down the drain, and work wasn’t much better. I’d had a few raises but still was doing the same work as I had when we’d moved there. There was no going up. I wanted to work for the IAS, not fix freaking wristpads for the rest of my life. I saw no end to my dreary life. It was an endless spiral that was driving me crazy.

“So I told Marcia I wanted us to move back to Bernice. But she would hear none of it. She had risen to the top within a few years. She had a brilliant mind that had not gone unnoticed. Marcia was powerful now, and influential. Told me there were cures for my ills and that I could find a better job if I put my mind to it. As if I were to blame for my misfortunes. So I said I’d leave without her.

“Lucy overheard our conversation—she was 8 at the time. She came crying to me, begging that I take her when I went to Bernice. I’d often told her about my homeworld. About the birds, the trees, the flowers... Things she’d only ever seen in holofilms.

“Elphine was no place for a child. Don’t get me wrong, many grow up there. But all of them end up with some sort of physical or mental deficiency. I did not want that for my child. So how could I have denied her?

“Marcia hated the position I put her in. She felt like I was blackmailing her, when it had been Lucy’s idea. But she also knew, deep inside, that we were right. That world was no place to raise a child. So she did not fight me.

“Besides, had Lucy stayed with her, Marcia could not have been with her all the time. If I took her with me, my parents could help watch over her when I was at work.

“Still, Marcia never forgave me for taking Lucy away from her.”

Halden wiped a tear from his eyes.

“I wish you were here so I could comfort you,” said Vina softly.

A blue light blinked on the wall above the door as the shipwide speakers turned on.

“Attention, attention, all passengers! We will be landing on Bernice in twenty minutes. Gather your things and make your way to the disembarking hub. Please make sure you don’t forget any of your belongings in your cabin.”

Halden smiled at Vina’s face as he got off the cot and grabbed his bag—which he had already prepared.

“Sounds like that’s my cue. I’ll call you when I’m home.”

It was time for him to get some answers.