"Who was this guy? Why would he do that? And why go back to kill your body? Why does it even matter?"

"We didn't think it would, your father and I. But years later, we found out who that man was. He isn't a very nice man. In fact, he isn't a man at all."

"Wait-what? Who-or what is he?"

"He's our real enemy, not the Drenard. That is . . . it's hard to explain. We have a complicated past with him, your father and I. You, as well, for that matter."

"Me?"

"He's the reason you're here. He helped deliver you."

"Deliver me where?"

"Deliver you. As a baby. Your father never told you about your birth?"

"I was six! The only thing I ever asked him about was you, but it just made him quiet."

"Of course. Poor Mortimor, he always blamed himself . . . "

"So, who is this guy? Why was he there when I was born?"

"He was following us. Your father and I were tracking down some men for the Navy, and we led him right to them."

"And he's not human? What is he?"

"He's one of the-he's a burglar, that's what he is. A simple crook trying to break into our galaxy and open a back door so he can let in-" Her mom fell silent.

"Let in what?"

"I can't say. I'm sorry. And we're getting off-topic, anyway."

"That's fine with me, because I don't wanna talk about killing you. The old you, I mean."

"If I'm-if she's even still alive. And if we don't get there before this man does, it might not matter."

"If it's been sixteen years, how do you know he hasn't already?"

"Because he hasn't had sixteen years; he's had half a year. And he isn't the only person that would be interested. Besides, if he'd already accomplished what we aim to prevent, we would know."

"Gods, Mom. What in the galaxy could you know that's so important?" Besides how to speak Drenard, she thought to herself.

"It's difficult to say how much my old self has put together in that brain of hers. It took years for your father and I to realize that all the pieces were there, and stewing. And for all that time, there was nothing we could do about it. You have to believe me, destroying that old body of mine is more important than rescuing your father. And it's best if you start thinking of that shell as a jar and me as your mother. Neither is easy, I know."

"I don't know what to believe," Molly said. "And I still don't understand what you could know that's so important."

"When your father and I were on Lok, there was a popular game show from Earth that was all the rage-"

"Pick That Door," Molly said.

"That's right! You've seen it?"

"Re-runs on flat panels, not the holovids. And just once or twice-I really hated that show."

"Yes, well, so did everyone else, but we all watched it. Do you remember the gist of it?"

"Yeah. It was dumb. There were two doors. One had a vacation package to a distant planet and the other had something dangerous from the same planet, like a wild animal or a noxious gas. They described each in detail and the contestant chose to open a door or just go away with nothing."

"That's about right. And actually, you make it sound more interesting than it was."

"What's your point?"

"Well, dear, that's what I know. I know which door to open."

"For a game show?!" Molly nearly tore her helmet off in disgust.

"No, sweetheart. Of course not. For real."

"Real doors?"

"Oh, yes. And there are terrible things behind one of those doors. Things that other people, some of them in our own Navy, are dying to let out. I know where one of those doors is, and so does . . . my former self. She also might know what fusion fuel is made of, which could lead to problems."

"I can't believe either is more important to you than rescuing Dad."

"If we don't do this first," Parsona said, "the hell your father's living in will be the only safe place in the universe. Sweetheart, if we fail-there'll be nowhere to rescue him to."

Molly wasn't sure what to make of the plan. She half-expected to arrive at Dakura and discover she'd been played a fool the entire time. Cole's doubts about her mother's artificial existence gnawed at her. She tucked her helmet under her arm and went to speak with him, but as she entered the cargo bay, she saw Walter and the Wadi, and froze.

"What are you doing?" she cried, rushing toward them. Walter had a red band around his head and he was attempting to fit another one around the Wadi's. "Where'd you get those?"

Walter looked up at her with an innocent expression. "I'm trying to talk to the Wadi," he explained.

"And where did you get those?" she asked again.

Walter looked at the ribbon in his hand, as if he needed to confirm what she was talking about. "During the fight in the sshuttle. Finderss keepersss." Walter touched the one around his head. "Thiss one iss mine."

Molly reached down to pick up the Wadi. It leapt to her arms before she got all the way there, wrapping itself around the back of her neck.

Its tongue flicked out twice. Once in Walter's direction and once to touch Molly's cheek.

Walter pouted at the loss.

"I'm going to need to keep those." Molly indicated the band in his hand and the one on his head.

"They're mine," he insisted. His metallic-colored face flushed with a dull glow.

"And they can stay yours, but I'm going to keep them in the cockpit, okay? They're too important to play with like toys."

Walter looked devastated. "I'm the ssupply officser," he said.

"And I'm the captain," she reminded him, her hand out.

Walter took the band off his head and placed them both in her palm. "It wassn't working, anyway," he said, consoling himself.

Molly wrapped her fingers around the bands and marched to the cockpit.

"Thanks for keeping an eye on the cargo cam for me," she said to Cole as soon as she entered.

"No problem-" Cole spun in his seat. "Wait. You're being sarcastic, aren't you? But he's been right there this whole time-" he stopped and stared at the red bands in her hand. "Where'd you get those?"

"Walter stole them. He was playing dress-up with the Wadi."

Cole gestured at the security screen on the dash. "Like I could tell that from this." His eyes narrowed. "Can your mom hear us fighting?"

"Probably not. Not with the mic turned off." Molly placed her helmet on its rack, and the Wadi moved to the back of her seat. She climbed over the control console and slumped into her chair. "Hyperspace on ice," she murmured, looking down at the bands.

"What's the big deal? He is a born pirate, you know."

"Yeah, no . . . gods, I don't know." Molly dropped the bands and rubbed her face. She tested her theory: "Mom?"

There was no response.

"Do you need to talk?" Cole asked.

Molly turned to him. His thick, perfectly shaped eyebrows formed twin arcs of concern over his green eyes. Molly reached over and squeezed his arm. "Mom told me why we have to go to Dakura."

"Something about her memories, right?"

"Yeah, but she doesn't want them back."

"What, then?"

"She wants them erased. Permanently."

Cole looked out the carboglass at the stars while Molly told him what she'd learned, what little of it made sense to her. The only thing she left out was her mom's mention of fusion fuel, and maybe knowing what it was made of.

It didn't seem important at the time.

Part IX - Heaven.

"Happiness can come solely from within, but not for long."

*The Bern Seer*

23.

The stars shifted as Parsona jumped into Dakura, and a dark, gray sphere popped into view amid the smattering of stars. Molly reached forward and flipped on the radio to let her mom know they'd arrived.

"That's Dakura?" Cole asked. "Not much to look at."

It was Parsona that answered. "It will be," she said. "Eventually. It used to be a frozen wasteland, much like Mars."

"Well, it still looks that way to me," Molly said, thrusting off toward the planet's largest moon.

"What color is it?" Parsona asked.

"A darkish gray. Why? What color should it be?"

"When your father and I were here sixteen years ago, it was a dull red-the color of rust."

"Looks like it's just getting worse, if you ask me," said Cole.

"It's a long process. That gray dusting will trap heat over a long period of time, thawing the crust and releasing the water inside. It will take thousands of years."

"Makes sense," Molly thought aloud, "for a guy dedicated to immortality to plan something like this. I bet he got a great deal on the planet."

"Someone owns that planet?" Cole asked.

Molly looked over. "I thought I mentioned that."

"Who are you guysss talking to?"

Molly and Cole spun in their seats to see Walter standing behind their chairs. The Wadi's tongue flicked out into the air.

"Flight control," Cole lied. "Getting permission to land, buddy."

"Starship Parsona, you're cleared for landing pad four," Parsona said through the radio speaker. Molly smiled at Cole, who bit his lip to keep from laughing.

Before Walter could respond, another voice-heavy with static-crackled through the same speaker. "GN-290, ship ID Parsona, this is Dakura flight control, come in."

"Who'ss that?" Walter asked, pointing to the dash.

"Uh, that's Customs. We'll have to clear in with them, now."

"Why did he call himsself 'Flight Control'?"

"Hey, Walter, I don't question the way you organize the cargo bays, do I?"