October 28, 2361 AIA

P5

Lia was trembling so much, she found it hard to stand in front of this woman. Her small chest felt as if it was constrained by invisible bands. Breathing took effort.

“Lia Wauters?” The woman’s voice was low and smooth.

“Yes.”

“But you were Sarah Meier?”

Lia dipped her head and swallowed. “Yes.”

The woman walked closer. “How many?”

Lia knew better than to lie. “Twelve.”

“Twelve!” The woman wandered back along the large table that dominated the dining room and over to the drink cabinet. “How much have you forgotten?”

Wauters put a hand to her forehead but jerked it back when she found there was a sheen of sweat on it.

“Come on! Even the most powerful had problems around the sixth one.” The woman’s eyes sliced through Lia. “You’re not all that powerful. How much have you forgotten?”

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Lia closed her eyes. She remembered heat and sand. She remembered smiling and laughing with another mouth. She remembered the pain of being shot. There was so much there. There was so much that wasn’t.

“I lost the thread. It’s broken. I remember Meier. I remember my assignments. I remember—” She looked up at the woman. “I remember Harlan.”

The woman’s head descended in a delicate nod when she heard the sound of the name. She chipped off a large chunk of ice and poured water into the glass.

“Beyond Meier, there are only fragments,” Wauters said. “I get flashes of memories that don’t fit. There are things I know that Lia didn’t learn, and I recognize things she’d never seen. But it’s mostly…nothing.”

“That sounds maddening.”

“I had to!” Lia stuttered, “I-I couldn’t—”

All it took was a look. Wauters fell silent.

“You did what you had to do to survive.” The woman held up the drink in her hand.

“No,” Lia muttered while shaking her head. “No thank you.”

The woman crossed an arm over her chest and took a sip. “I’m glad you survived, Lia. I’m even more glad we were able to find you. You’re here now, and I need you.”

“Yes. Please. Anything.”

“Do you remember the name Jane Bonumomnes?” The woman picked up a photo from the table beside her and tossed it toward Wauters.

Lia dropped her hand on the picture, pinning it to the table to stop it from falling to the floor. The woman in the photo was small, thin, and pale. Her long dark hair was pulled back in a ponytail.

“I remember the name,” Lia said. “I never met her. Who is she?”

“The most dangerous person in the galaxy. She knows more about us than anyone. She knows more about us than we do. I need her stopped—destroyed. But I also know how useful it would be to have her knowledge. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

Lia Wauters had been a superstitious person. Now this Lia stood there, looking down at the photo, the number thirteen overshadowing everything else in her mind.