Eva stood at a console in a quiet corner of Engineering. Although the crew on the bridge worked to scan the graveyard of ships, Eva performed her own scan of the wreckage, out of the way. It gave her something to do because she had not been okayed to go on the ship, not even as a guard.

As Eva flipped through her data, she counted fourteen different kinds of ships. As for the number of individual ships, Eva counted forty-seven. Most had come in caravans only to wreck on the magically hidden obstacle that inhabited the place.

Eva knew the Volanter were to blame. The wreckage was not so drastic that the Volanter could not rescue a few individuals from their plight. After that, the Volanter could play host and rope the unsuspecting individuals into a genetic contract. They’d taken advantage of the distortion and hidden it behind a smokescreen of magic.

Of course, there was the matter of the Volanter vessel. It rested at the center of the mess, implying some Volanter lost their lives to the graveyard. Eva thought it was an elaborate trick. She couldn’t say whether there were living Volanter inside the ship when it crashed, but she thought, for certain, that the Volanter staged the crash and left the vessel to serve as purposeful trap.

Eva didn’t think that the Iruedians and Scaldin had massacred the Bacchan. She thought that maybe they had gotten lucky and beat the Volanter before their benefactors of Iruedim turned vicious.

Genetic contracts. It was absurd.

And, Eva doubted that the Iruedians and Scaldin were the only people that had reacted with such disgust to such a concept. The Volanters’ act of innocence wasn’t fooling Eva. How could they be such a long-lived people and not realize?

Sten came to Eva’s side. She didn’t say hello as she combed through the data, but she did notice him.

“I believe they’re fine. And, we’re running dark, so if a ship does happen into the graveyard, they won’t see us right away.”

Eva glanced up but quickly looked back to her console. “But, they might see new ships and investigate.”

“We’ll have the element of surprise,” Sten promised. He leaned into the screen and peered at the data.

Eva moved over to give him some space. Neither of them was an official part of the engineering crew, but they both hung around engineering like wannabees. It bothered Eva not to have control of the ship’s working parts.

“She would have let you go if she could,” Sten said.

Eva turned away from the scan. She sat on the edge of the console, giving him an almost unhindered view. “She doesn’t have a choice. I’m a politician now. If the other leaders hear that I joined the delegation to the Volanter, there might be trouble.”

Sten touched a few buttons. Eva kept her view focused on the quiet Engineering deck and trusted his judgement.

“No one on Iruedim has to know that you went with the initial party. By the time we get home, the evidence will be gone from your arm, and Rooks will be happy to leave you off the reports – for both your sakes.” Sten touched Eva’s arm, not on the spot that she’d burned clear of flesh.

She inclined her head and watched his hand.

Eva was more of a politician now, minus all the simpering and misguided efforts to relate to a populace. Her running platform and campaign slogans were nonexistent, but they would translate to – if I must.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

“Forty-seven ships. And, they hid it too,” Sten said.

Eva’s gaze whipped up to meet his. “Yes, they did. What else must they be hiding?”

“I don’t know.” Sten turned and sat on the console’s edge, with Eva. He crossed his arms. “Eva? Do you think that we should now give more thought to copying our consciousnesses?”

Eva stood up straight. “That is an abrupt change of subject, with no relevance to the situation at hand.”

“You said Lurren needs us.” Sten straightened too. He glanced at the center of Engineering.

Crew members moved through the consoles and tended the humming engine. Eva and Sten remained alone on the outskirts, unheard.

Sten said, “Think about the Volanter.”

“That’s all I’ve been doing.”

“Think about how they lost the Blath and whoever founded the Scaldin.” Sten waited, an expectant gaze in his eyes.

“That’s their problem.”

“Right, but because they lost those people, it’s now our problem as well. The Volanter copy their memories of the runes and circles down to their children. If they’d done the same with new research, they might not have been so desperate to get us.” Sten lifted his hands and waited, coaxing something more out of Eva.

“No one in Lurren is going to harass another population for our knowledge. They’ll just bumble along, make a hundred mistakes, and get where they should have been going…”

“After it’s too late?”

Eva crossed her arms. “That’s not what I said.”

“But…”

Eva made a cutting motion. “Sten…no. Consider that the Volanter aren’t after us for our knowledge. They don’t copy all the information from mother to child because the process is imperfect and takes over two years. They want us for some other reason.”

A subtle look of horror passed over Sten’s face. “How do you know how long the process takes?”

Eva touched a few keys on the console. She left the scan in the background but pulled up some information from the ship’s central storage computer. “Florian and Benham took information from the infirmary and came up with a handful of biological files. They already sent some files over. This is the reproductive file.”

Sten braced himself over the console and got his eyes level with the center of the screen. His gaze moved over the rows of tight Volanter writing. “That is...a lot to take in.”

Eva grabbed his arm.

He turned his head to face her but didn’t push off the console.

Eva raised her eyebrows. “I won’t do it. Copy our consciousnesses. We both believe in souls for artificial beings like us. How do we copy that part? How do we ensure that our copies don’t view their incorporeal lifestyles as torture?”

Sten stood straight and spread his hands. “I haven’t thought out all the kinks. But, please Eva. I may have made an error when I compared our situation to that of the Volanter. Our problem is a little different. It won’t take long to copy ourselves, and we could create bodies to house the copies. Lurren deserves to have access to our knowledge, perhaps even our skills, for as long as possible.”

Eva shook her head slow. “No. I won’t be copied, and I won’t contend with three or four other Evas walking around Lurren.”

“Well, I tried.” Sten bowed his head.

A mumble across Engineering caught Eva’s attention. She looked in that direction, and an engineer quickly looked away.

“Sorry I suggested it.” Sten turned back to the console.

Eva felt a pang of remorse. “I’d copy my knowledge, just not my consciousness.”

Sten stared at the screen. “It’s a start, but what saved Lurren was that you took action. Your knowledge is also the sum of your experience and part of that is something that’s felt rather than known.”

“You’d be alright with extra Stens sharing our living space?” Eva hid the scan he viewed under a new window.

Sten’s face whipped to face her. “I haven’t really given it much thought, but now that you mention it, I might find the situation a bit of an adjustment. Maybe if they looked different.”

Eva turned away.

The console beeped. Eva watched the light flicker. Then, she checked the screen.

“Oh dear. I think someone curious has happened by.” Sten’s fingers tapped the screen and enlarged a map, showing wrecked ships as little dots. All drifted, except for one, which moved on the edge. Ship forty-eight.

“I’m calling the bridge.” Eva tapped the com. “Eva to the bridge.”

Rooks answered shortly. “Yes, Eva. We know. We see it. I’ve already sent the message for our away team to hurry back. Looks like we did not have two weeks.”

Eva almost responded, but Rooks didn’t give her the chance.

“Take heart,” Rooks said. “It’s just one ship. We’ve already slaughtered enough for a whole fleet.”