Gershwin looked at me with not annoyance, but almost a kind of sadness. It had started to rain again and the raindrops drummed softly on the roof of the car as he spoke. "I'm not going to take over the world, though I hear and recognize your concerns."

He sighed and leaned back hard against the seat like he was trying to disappear into the leather. "It was wrong of me to not include you in my plan and I'm going to do my best to explain things to you now, if that's alright?"

"Sure." I said, wondering where this was going.

"When you were little I used to tell you bedtime stories. Do you remember the one about the demons that stole the sun?" He asked.

I did. An evil queen demon had stolen a sun from a planet that offended her and held it hostage until a brave Döbian named Kerner had gone to her shimmering castle and won the sun back in a battle of wits. It was one of my favorites because whenever my father told the story he used my name for the hero. "You used to tell it to Edel and I, you called us your little heroes."

Gershwin smiled fondly. "What I wouldn't give to have you all back together again, but that time had passed I'm afraid." He paused, remembering simpler times, happier times. "You know, I hadn't realized how much I missed her until now. I hope she's doing well, wherever she is."

I thought back on Edel and felt a pang of longing that threatened to break me if I let it linger. We had been inseparable as children, granted most twins were. Hunds were lucky in that we tended to have litters of at least two if not three pups. I couldn't imagine what it would have been like to be born alone. Maybe that was why humans were so crazy, they were born alone.

Things had been different after I changed. At first she would barely look at me then as time went on we stopped talking. By the time I left for Möhi we might as well have been strangers.

Gershwin continued. "My father told me that story when I was young, just as his father told it to him. Generation after generation of our family have told the same story and it always seemed so strange to me because we only have one sun in our universe, everything else is just void. The humans have said that things are the same where they come from… but I don't think they are telling the truth. In fact I know they aren't."

I remembered the question I had asked earlier and how Sacher had reacted. The humans were definitely hiding something. "So what does that have to do with the story?"

"I believe that where humans come from there are thousands of stars and planets. I believe that our universe was once a part of theirs and they somehow found a way to keep us separate from it." He looked at me closely, watching for my reaction. "I don't want to rule the world, I want to free it."

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

I chose my next words carefully. "I love you father. You know that. I don't think that there are any doubts about the love I have for you, and for our people. If what you say is true, and it makes sense that it would be true, then we should find a way to free our people, all our people, Hund and Katzen alike."

I couldn't bring myself to say the next part. How could I tell my own father that the shame of what he had done was a stain on my soul? How could I tell him that I understood why he had committed those atrocities, but that it still didn't make it right. I could not and would not allow someone to whom the end always justifies the means to take control of the future of our people.

Gershwin chuckled sadly. "I have always been able to read that face of yours. To others it's a brick wall but to me you have always been an open book. When you and your sister were little you used to steal candy from my desk, such a sweet tooth you two had! I never told you but I always kept some eibischteig in the top right drawer for you to find. And when I came home it would be gone and the two of you would have this guilty look on your faces. It's the same look you have now. New face, same soul. Same guilt."

I frowned. I didn't really like sweets, never had. Yet that memory was still there, the old wooden desk in my father's study with the sweet pink candies in the right hand drawer. I shook my head clear.

"You taught me to always do what was right, as Döbian. This is not right. I wish I had better words to say it, but you were always the one good with words, not me." I took a deep breath. "I cannot allow you to do this. And if that makes us enemies I will understand, but you raised me to know and speak the differences between right and wrong."

Sally and Gershwin shared another look. Time seemed to slow and hang, thick like sap. I closed my eyes and welcomed whatever violence or judgement would come. I could not and would not be a part of this, but I also couldn't harm my father.

I flinched as a soft kiss brushed my forehead. "Open your eyes." Gershwin said.

Reluctantly I looked my father in the face. I didn't speak. My eyes caught the tattoos beneath his eyes where the host body he now wore had been marked like livestock in the camps.

Gershwin took my hands in his and gave them a gentle squeeze. "I'm very proud of you." He said. "But the bell has already been rung. Things have been set in motion that cannot be stopped. We can either ride the avalanche or be buried beneath it."

I took my hands away from him. "No." I said softly. "Not like this. And not by you."

"But we can save the world!" Gershwin argued.

"But you won't." I replied.

Gershwin growled. "I'm not trying to…" He trailed off. "I can't lose you again. Don't make me choose between our people and my family."

I just waited silently. There was nothing more for me to say. I had said my piece and what would be, would be.

Gershwin screamed in frustration and punched the headrest in front of him before collapsing in a slump. "I need your help because I can't replicate." He finally said. "This body is the last stop for me, and I need you to carry on my work. And I know you're afraid, and I know that you are ashamed of me, but I need you."

That was when I realized that I had been coming at it all wrong. Gershwin didn't want to take over the world, he wanted me to do it for him.