The suited Handler nodded and continued to watch the events play out in front of him.

They walked down the hallways. He would stop at every plaque to read it. Most were too high for young Marjorie to see so she simply watched the people walk by. "Clarke station was only partially demilitarized. They still shuttled people who had lived off planet, like the moon or Mars, to Earth. They would have to stay on the station until they were strong enough for Earth's gravity."

"We still have that problem too, and our solution is pretty much the same."

Marjorie didn't say anything, nodding only, storing any information she was given into her mind. You never know when you'll need it.

"Dad, I want to see the space ships." Little Marjorie said.

Her dad adjusted his glasses, finished reading, then looked down and said in a quiet, calm voice. "Now honey, we can't just go skip to the end can we?"

"No," she replied with some hostility. "But can you at least read to me?"

"Sure, I'm sorry." He bent down and picked her up. His arms were strong and secure. "Can you see now?"

"Yes, I can read it now. Thank you."

Older Marjorie walked over to the plaque but found she couldn't read it. It was blank. "I guess I can't remember everything."

Marjorie and her handler followed them down the hallway, stopping every few feet to read something else. "After this we watched a movie on the history of space flight, and then we ate lunch. It seemed like we were there forever before we saw the ship." She turned to face him. "I can control this, is that what you said?"

"Yes, you have control here, we are simply observing you."

The scene faded and Marjorie found herself at the observation deck; her little face pressed against the shielded window looking out into space. Ships of all shapes and sizes were attached to the station. It seemed like thousands upon thousands of ship were there but in actuality it was only a dozen. Those ships were the most beautiful things Marjorie had ever seen. She had seen pictures of them and thought they were neat but seeing them with the backdrop of space, with some real depth to their structure, it was too much for her little mind to absorb. She tried to see every line, every window and every light. She tried to memorize the names of the ships.

Her dad attempted to pull her away, but she wouldn't let him. She ignored his calls and ignored him when he threatened her. Leaving now would be too much to endure, not until she was ready, not until she had her fill.

"Just as stubborn as ever," her dad said with a chuckle. "Okay, I'll be sitting on that bench, when you're ready you come over."

Marjorie grunted a reply that may have been an okay. It was hard to tell.

The memory faded, and Marjorie found herself back at the table. The Handler sitting across from her held her hand, his eyes closed. He opened them and actually smiled. "Ah, that was a nice memory."

Revolted, Marjorie pulled her hand away. "Don't touch me."

"I'm sorry. Newman liked it when I held his hand."

Marjorie lifted an eyebrow at the comment but didn't say anything. "Why did you bring me back here? I thought you guys were fine tuning my brain, trying to figure out how I think and how I dream."

"I didn't bring you back. You are still in control. We found that your memories were like that, little snippets of information stored in bundled fibers scattered all over your brain. It's very complex and even after many years of study we don't fully understand how it works on humans."

"How does it work with you? Since you guys will live forever, do you remember everything?"

"I can't say that I remember everything that's happened to me but I remember enough."

"Does anyone die? I mean, how old is the oldest?"

"That is not any information I am willing to give up to you."

That's interesting, she thought.

He tilted his head. "I see you're about ready to take us to another memory. It won't take long for us to find the memory we need."

"I'll do all I can to hide Earth's location from you."

"I know, but you can't hide it forever. Now, let's move onto the next one, shall we." He reached across to grab Marjorie's hand and the memory came flooding back.

She stood outside a room; the hallway filled with young adults running or walking past her. Their faces were blurry, unrecognizable. They all wore cadet uniforms, black shirt with black pants, and black socks with highly polished black shoes. They were talking, the chatter a soft murmur.

Cadet Sanders had her head against the door crying. Marjorie looked at this poor young thing and felt bad. She didn't know if she was truly feeling bad or if she was re-experiencing the feelings she remembered.

She punched the door with her fist and yelled, "You can't leave me like this! You can't!"

The reply from the other side stung now as it did then. "Go back to Payton! He's the one you really want!"

"I'm sorry about what happened! It was a mistake."

"Leave! If I see you again I'm going to tell the head master you're harassing me. Let's see you become a Captain with that on your record."

Cadet Sanders, her face stained with tears, bit into her lower lip. Resolve crept into her body and she straightened up. Both her fists were tightly wound into a ball. She kicked the door. "You had better hope I never become a Captain because I'll do my best to make sure you get assigned to a garbage ship!" She stormed away.

Older Marjorie watched this and laughed. "That was Captain William Patterson," she said. "We became great friends before he lost his life at the first battle of Ulliam."

"What was the fight about?" Her Handler asked.

"We were, um, mating and I think I called him Payton. Not one of my better moments."

Cadet Sanders continued to briskly walk down the hallway, pushing people out of her way. They must have known how angry she was, no one said a word. "I had a reputation as a hot head so when I was mad people tended to leave me alone. There was only one person who could calm me down."

"Payton?"

"Mason Simpson. He was my best friend."

Sure enough Cadet Sanders ran up to another room and pounded loudly on the door. "Mason, let me in, I need to talk to you."

"The door is open, come in."

She flung the door open and ran in. Mason sat at a desk, his computer turned on with what appeared to be some sort of report on the screen. Old Marjorie was surprised to find she could read some of what he wrote. Was her memory that good and why did she even bother to remember that?

Mason was a handsome man. He was well manicured, well-built and had an infectious smile and laugh. Those traits would help him become an ambassador later in life. He stood from his chair and pointed to his bed. "Sit down and tell me what Payton did this time."

"This is not about Payton!" She yelled.

"Really?" His voice dripped of sarcasm with an ounce of surprise. "Everything you've complained about this year has been about Payton."

"I know, I know." Defeated, Cadet Sanders fell back onto the bed, spread her arms out and looked toward the ceiling. "I think he ruined another relationship."

"And how did he ruin it?"

Cadet Sanders looked at him but didn't get up. "I can hear that condescending sarcasm."

"I wasn't trying to hide it."

"Fine, okay, maybe it was sort of about Payton but that's not the point. Bill should be more forgiving. He knew my history, and he knew about me and Payton before he asked me out."

"Give it a few days, call Bill and talk to him. He's a nice guy. He deserves another chance."

She sat up and crossed her legs, looking at Mason carefully. "What about Payton? Should I talk to him?"

"He's not good for you, leave him alone. Don't even talk to him."

Cadet Sanders sighed and sat up. "This is too complicated! I can't wait to get out of here and on a ship, things are so simple there! I need a distraction, are you up for a movie?"

"Always, what do you want to see?"

"Nothing serious or about love. Don't think I deal with that right now."

The memory faded and Marjorie once again found herself in the room with her handler holding her hands. His eyes closed. He opened them. "What did you do next?"

"I called Payton and didn't talk to Bill until a few years later when we were assigned to the same ship."

"This Payton, his name and face come up a lot."

"Yeah," She said as the room once again faded away.

Older Marjorie looked at the scene, things seemed crisper. The people in the hallway looked familiar; no longer did they look like anonymous blobs. In fact, she remembered most of their names and knew the faces. Was her mind copying and pasting memories from other times into the people or was she actually remembering them? She had a good memory but not this good. Were the Handlers trying to enhance her mind?

Cadet Sanders walked down the hallway and adjusted her backpack. This was her second day in the academy and she still had her dad's words echoing in her ear. "Marjorie, please don't go, not now, you can go later or not at all. I promise I'll support you and I promise I'll be strong but please, stay here for another year. The family needs you and you need us. The academy will still be there. I won't be around forever."

Fresh tears tried to form in her eyes but she pushed them back. Her leaving hurt him deeply, especially since it was only three months ago her mom died, and the words stung. The guilt clung to her every second of the day while she roamed the hallways. He would visit her a few times a year and each time she saw him she was shocked at quickly his health was deteriorating. Depression took hold and held onto her dad for a very long time.

"What's wrong?" A voice asked and when she turned she saw the most handsome man she had ever seen standing next to her. He was big. Her head barely reached his shoulders and he was strong. His arms bulged out from under his short-sleeved uniform and his chest muscles were easy to spot under his white shirt. His smile caused her to catch her breath, and his eyes showed her a kindness she never thought existed. From the second she saw him, she was in love. She stuttered for a moment, surprised at the sudden question and flustered that such an attractive man would talk to her. "Oh, nothing, just stressed."

"That's what I thought. My name is Payton Cook. You're a freshman, right?"

"Yeah, second day."

"I'm a junior, I've been there. Here," he handed her a card. "That's my room number. Call me anytime you want if you need help with the stress."

"Um, thanks. I don't have a card to give you, sorry."

"That's okay, what's your name? I can look you up."

"Um, Marjorie Sanders."

He smiled and her heart melted once again. "Okay, Marjorie Sanders, I'll see you later."

Older Marjorie couldn't help but smile. "He told me, years later, that he gave that card to all the freshmen woman he met, figured he would have a lot of fun while he was there. He knew he was smart. He knew he was attractive and trust me he was never lonely on a weekend. He never thought he'd actually fall in love with someone. He never really wanted to fall in love because that would have been a distraction."

"Human mating, it's very strange to us."

"Yeah, it's strange to most alien races." Marjorie said as her mind whisked them away to another memory.

Payton and Marjorie sat on a blanket in the middle of a park. All around them people were running walking, playing Frisbee, throwing balls, or just enjoying the warm July night. It was the fourth of July, a traditional time to celebrate freedom and independence. At first, it was strictly a United States holiday that the world absorbed as a holiday to celebrate the coming together of all nations under one flag, the flag of the United Earth Alliance.

They sat on the grass waiting for the fireworks to begin. She was sitting next to him rubbing his shoulder, watching him as he talked. Their gazes locked on each other, oblivious to all that was around them.

Older Marjorie felt a pang of jealously as she watched her younger self lean in to kiss him. Was she really that dedicated to Payton? It's been a long time since she wondered where it all went wrong. She stopped thinking about it when he died. She wondered if her outside body was crying as she brushed the tears away. She didn't want to cry in front of The Hander about this. She didn't want to show weakness in front of the enemy.

The Handler looked at the sky, studying it. His lips seemed to be moving and his head tilted to the side. The same expression she saw on his face when he was getting outside data. What could he be looking at? When she followed his gaze she realized how much of a fool she was. He was looking at the stars, studying the constellations. Her memories were getting better, clearer. They were manipulating her mind, finding ways to make her memories more vivid, waiting for the memory that could give up the location of Earth. If they saw the correct pattern in the sky they could use that determine where the Earth might be. That was how the Arwen always knew where it was in space, it would find a set of stars and extrapolate from their position where the ship was. This was no different.

"No, not now!" She yelled and tackled her Handler to the ground.

The memory snapped to the room. She was on top of him punching his face repeatedly. She was in control of this and she made sure what she was doing hurt. He tried to push her off but she made herself stronger. Captain Cook was in control now. She wrapped her fingers around his throat and squeezed.

The Handler, his face bloody, struggled to breathe. His struggling slowed, his strength left his body, blood gurgled out of his mouth and he breathed his last breath. His body lay limp under her.

She stood and pumped her fist into the air. "I don't know what that does to him on the outside world but I hope it hurt. I will not willingly let you rote through my mind anymore. If you want any information you'll need to fight me for it!" Defiant she walked over to her chair, pulled it out and sat down. She looked at the dead body on the floor and smiled, looking forward to the fight that lay ahead of her. They won't win, she thought. They would never beat me.

Chapter twenty-two.

Falling, falling, falling. That's what Professor Ricter felt as he traveled through the grayness of wormhole beta space. He continued to hold his breath even though his lungs felt as if they were going to burst. He had no idea if he could even breathe the air of this strange universe. He knew his body was traveling near the speed of light and his mind told him that air, not just air he could breath but any kind of air, couldn't exist here. He also knew that he couldn't hold his breath forever. He never thought he would die this way. He wanted to continue to get older, continue to learn about the universe, continue to teach others what he knew. Even though he had accomplished so much he felt as if he had failed because he was going to die right here, right now.

And then the wormhole expelled him. He crashed onto a very solid floor and noticed the gravity seemed stronger than where he had just left. He gasped for breath, pulling oxygen into his lungs, and exhaling it quickly. The air tasted and smelled good, almost like peppermint.

His blood chilled and he opened his eyes expecting to see a Handler standing over him. Instead, he found himself surrounded by aliens, creatures he had never seen before. Creatures that were so strange his mind wasn't able to processes what he was seeing. He tried to stand, his heart beat fast in his chest and he found himself unable to breathe again. The second before he passed out he realized he was going to pass out and said a short Earth curse word none of the aliens would understand.

It must have only been a few minutes before he woke. He felt better knowing what he was going to see when he opened his eyes. He sat up and looked around again, the aliens were there and they were looking at him with many different kinds of eyes. Some stalks, others human like eyes and one of the aliens had one huge eye sitting on a very tiny head. It was almost comical, and the Professor couldn't help but laugh. This reaction caused the aliens to look at each other. There were at least fifteen different kinds of species in the room, a few looked similar enough that the Professor was sure they were of the same race. He sat up on his elbows. This caused another response from the aliens as they all moved back. With a grunt he lifted himself up and stood. The aliens again looked at each other, silent.

First contact with fifteen races, he thought. That has to be a new record. He was trained in first contact situations but he had taken that training many years ago. The first rule, he remembered clearly, was to not do anything that would be interrupted as a threat. He held his hands up to show he wasn't armed. Language would be a problem, it always was, but he couldn't recall what the solution was for that so he just said, "I'm Professor Theo Ricter from the planet Earth."

Once again they looked at each other but said no words. The Professor knew they were somehow communicating with each other but couldn't figure out how. Juliet might be able to help. It was then that he realized Juliet hadn't come through the wormhole with him. "Juliet, are you here?" He yelled.

The aliens now seemed to be alarmed, but he didn't care. "Where is she?" He asked, not really expecting an answer. He turned to the wormhole and pointed. "If you don't tell me where she is I'm going through there to find her."

They continued to look at each other. Frustration built slowly inside the Professor. He would sometimes show his frustration in bursts of anger, but that was normally with people who understood what he was saying. These aliens didn't know what the outburst would mean. Juliet could very well be dead. He wasn't able to hold his breath that long, how long could she?

Then, he saw an alien that looked familiar. It had a flat head and two very tiny black eyes. It looked like the alien in the ship he found over the water planet. What did that mean? It couldn't be a coincidence. Professor Ricter didn't believe in coincidences that were this improbable.

He pointed to the wormhole and said to the alien, "I need to find the person who was with me."