They made no movement toward him. "Are you guys telepathic or something? I don't have that power. I can only talk with my mouth. I need your help."

It seemed as if his desperate cry was finally answered. One of the aliens, it had four legs which seemed to rotate and were connected to a round pink fur body, walked up to him. It came up to the professors' waist. The front legs extended like a set of tripod legs and it met the Professor at eye level. Every instinct the Professor had told him to run away, even after meeting many distinctive kinds of aliens over the course of his life the human mind still wanted to run when confronted with something unusual. He ignored the urge and stood there.

Two antennas, hidden under a skin flap, telescoped out and tapped Professor Ricter's face. He closed his eyes when it got close to them, and opened them when it started to probe his chin, then his chest, it continued downward. Professor Ricter stared straight ahead. They're probably trying to figure out his physiology, maybe trying to figure out how to communicate with him. He decided they weren't harmful; they could have killed him a thousand times already. He just didn't know who they were, and he really wanted to know the story behind this alien cabal.

The probing finished and the alien walked up to a tall alien with very smooth grey skin. That alien reached into a pocket and pulled something out.

It walked over to the professor and showed him what he held. It was a needled filled with orange liquid. The alien gave the needle to the professor and let him examine it. He held it up to the light and looked carefully. It was cloudy but otherwise harmless. "All right," he said and then plunged the needle into his arm.

The others watched and when the orange liquid was gone and into his body, he pulled the needle out and gave it back to the alien. "Now what?"

The effects were noticed right away. His arm felt warm and there was a strange tingle running up it. Something was happening, but he didn't know what. The alien with the flat head, the one he knew, walked up to him and grabbed his hand. He pulled the Professor across the room. On the floor was a crude cot. He heard a word, soft, almost a whisper coming from somewhere. The word was a simple command. "Sleep."

He laid on the cot and closed his eyes. Juliet's face, her sweet, beautiful face, flashed before his eyes before he drifted off to sleep.

He slept. Flashes passed across his closed eyes. Words formed in his ears, testing, probing. He would hear a word, and then see an image. It was chaotic and yet a pattern seemed to be forming. Trial error tests to help establish communication.

The words came to him slowly and even then it was only one way. He heard his own voice first, testing sentences until they made sense. Learning the verbs, nouns, other parts of speech that came so naturally to babies. It was as if his mind was learning to talk all over again, pulling memories from his childhood English class, re-reading all the books he'd read. It was all so clear yet it flashed so fast he was having a hard time keeping up. The more they learned the faster the images and words came. It was a nightmare of sound and light he couldn't wake up from. He endured because he needed to talk to these aliens, and this was the only way to make that happen.

The images and words stopped playing in his mind. It was over, and he felt more tired than he did before he slept. He forced his eyes to open.

Standing above him was the only alien he recognized, the one from the ship, the one who tried to warn them of the danger. Its tiny black eyes rolled down between two flat bone plates. The voice came from inside the Professor's head, the alien never moved its mouth when it spoke. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine," Professor Ricter said.

The alien tilted its head. "You must think of the answer, do not speak it. The tiny machines cannot understand if you talk, you must think."

"Can I do both?" He asked being sure he thought the words before speaking. "I've been told I love the sound of my own voice, and it's true."

The alien made a noise, a strange honk. Its eyes retreated inside its head, for a moment before returning. "It is good to know that humor exists everywhere."

"Fine, yes, it does." The Professor stood. "I know you. I've seen your kind before."

"Yes, which is why they sent me here. We could reconstruct some of your recent memories and, upon viewing them, realized you come from a region of space not too far from where my home world used to be."

"Used to be?" He did not like the sound of that. "What happened?"

"It was destroyed by the- you call them Handlers?"

"I'm sure that's not the official name but yeah, it seems to fit."

"They destroyed my world and are in the middle of building another sphere. They will destroy your world as well, which is why we have decided to invite you here."

"They won't destroy my world, not as long as I'm alive. How can I understand you now?"

"We placed small robots in your body-"

"Small robots? Like, nanobots?"

"That is a nice word, yes. Nanobots. They traveled to your brain. We needed to probe you to figure out where your brain was."

"Ah, that would explain the examination." Professor Ricter said.

"Once we figured that the nanobots traveled to your brain and examined it, learning how to take over functions, learning how to make your brain a better brain and also learning how you communicate. Right now, my thoughts are being transmitted in my own language to your nanbots who are translating it into your language so you can understand. The longer we do this, the better they will become."

"How long have I been out?" The Professor rubbed the whiskers on his face. He had at least three days growth. "A long time." He lowered his head. "I lost a friend. She was my responsibility, do you know what happened to her?"

"There was someone else with you before we grabbed you. We had lost her when we redirected your path."

Professor Ricter lifted his head. "Do you know where they took her?"

"They pulled her into another wormhole, or she fell. We cannot be sure, and we haven't investigated. We did not think she was important. All we needed was one human to help establish communication."

His voice and he hoped his thoughts were demanding. "She's important to me and if you don't find her then I will not cooperate with you."

Professor Ricter heard the sound of at least fifteen voices in his head. It was as if he had stepped out into a crowded theater where everyone was talking at once. He grabbed his skull and bent down. The pain throbbed throughout his body. Then, the words stopped.

"We have decided to find your friend and bring her here."

"No, once you find her I'll bring her here. She'll probably put up a fight if you show up."

"Very well, once we find her we shall alert you. It will take time for your nanobots to be able to handle all our voices at once. I apologize for that."

"That's fine, just wasn't expecting it. Now, can you answer a few of my questions?"

"Of course, we figured you'd have a few."

"Okay. You seem to know my name, but I don't know yours."

"I am Pool."

"Pool?" Professor Ricter asked.

"The Nanobots might not be able to translate it properly but they have now associate Pool to me so, for you and everyone else that will be my name. I am a Gurring. My planet is Gurr."

"I'm from Earth, but you probably knew that."

"Yes, but thank you for telling me."

"Okay, who are you guys? Why have you brought me here?"

"We are the last of our kind. We are all the remains of the planet the Handlers have destroyed. We have made it our mission to find those who will be destroyed and bring them here."

"Why don't you fight them? Don't you have a fleet?"

"No, we only have this ship and we are all that is left. There are about five hundred of us from fifteen different races. The brightest make the decisions for the rest. Those were the ones you saw when you arrived. Were lucky you decided to take the wormhole to travel, otherwise we did not think we could have grabbed you."

"Yeah, lucky me. What about the ship I arrived on? The Arwen?"

"We do not know what happened to your ship."

There was another loud blasting of many voices in the Professor's head. It wasn't as bad as before but it still gave him a headache. Pool said, "Come, we have found your friend."

Everyone had forgotten about her. No one was coming and if she could find a way she would have killed herself a long time ago. The room was empty, there was nothing here she could use to end it all. She supposed she could have smashed her head against the wall and if she did it hard enough it would kill her but that seemed too inefficient. No, she was going to die, but it was going to be death by dehydration.

When she first arrived she looked for a door. It was difficult in the pitch darkness but eventually she found the outline of a door. Her thrill of finding the door disappeared when she pushed it with all her might and found it didn't budge. It took her a few minutes to realize the door had been welded shut. She was sealed off from everyone in some forgotten room in lord knows where. No one was coming. No one even knew she was here. She was as good as dead.

At first, she was angry at the Professor Ricter. Where was he and why had he let her go? That anger turned to grief when she realized he was probably dead as well, trapped in the strange Wormhole Beta space to travel forever. There was only a slim chance he had found another exit. Every time they went into a wormhole they were at the mercy of aliens who had wanted them dead. Why had she let him talk her into taking that risk? Why had she followed him?

He was just that kind of guy who you followed. He was a born leader. If he hadn't chosen the sciences he would have been a politician. She smiled at that, it seemed to fit perfectly. Juliet wasn't born to be anything more than she was, a sensor officer on a ship. She didn't love that job, but she was good at it. She envied the Professor for knowing, and then doing, what he loved.

It was all for nothing now. She would be dead soon, and it would all be over.

She saw the first sign of light, a tiny pin point in the middle of nothingness. At first, she thought it was just a hunger hallucination. It wasn't until the light grew brighter and the pinpoint grew larger did she believe something was happening. She tried to stand, her legs were stiff from sitting on the floor for hours on end.

She had to shield her eyes from the light which seemed to double in strength. The silver hole continued to grow. A smile formed on her dry, chapped lips.

The wormhole was man sized. She saw a leg and knew who it was. He had come to rescue her. He had made it. She was going to be okay.

Professor Ricter stepped out. "Thank you." She said, tears rolling down her cheek. "Thank you."

"It's okay," Professor Ricter replied holding his hand out to her. It felt oddly comforting to have him reach out like this. He was her savior. "We have a lot to discuss but first, let's get you out of here."

Chapter twenty-three.

Marjorie tapped her finger on the table trying to remember the beat for a song. It was an absent-minded thing, but it was something she needed to do. They said she was in control, and she was going to keep it that way. It was her mind and they were not going to mess with it.

The body of several handlers lay on the floor next to her chair. They had sent four and she had attacked all four, three she strangled, one she beat the death with the chair. All four Handlers looked alike, but as long as they didn't have that link to her mind, they would not be able to get any information out of her.

She continued to tap on the table. The half remembered song coming to her easily now. She still had access to her memory. That access was going to betray her, but she didn't know how to shut it off. How do you shut off your memory? How do you tell yourself not to think of an elephant when you're told not to think of elephants?

A thought caused her to freeze. If the Arwen leaves what's to the stop the Handlers from tracking the Arwen back to Earth?

She heard the unmistakable sound of the door forming. She braced herself, ready to strike whatever came through.

The door formed and opened. She sprung forward to attack the Handler, the same one she killed four times. This was going to be fun, again.

Only, she never got a chance to advance. She found herself frozen in mid lunge. The Handler, clipboard in hand, walked around her. "It took us a while, but we finally figured out how to stop that."

She wanted to move, she wanted to say something, but instead found every muscled frozen in place. He sat at the table and flipped the paper on his clipboard over. "We're going to give you the nightmare treatment. This will be most unpleasant, I can assure you. We gave it to the other human a few times when he was misbehaving. It's not something we like to do but with you we found it necessary."

"I will never tell you." Marjorie said, her muscles were no longer frozen. She could stand normally.

"So be it," He looked at Marjorie and sighed. "I was starting to like you, Captain. I am sorry that it had to come to this, but you left us no choice." He slapped Marjorie in the face the nightmare began.

She found herself sitting at the sensor station of the Sam Wise, her first ship assignment. This wasn't like the other dreams, this time she could feel the anticipation of what was coming next. Her younger self had no idea what was about to happen. She had relived this memory many times, and it took her years to get over the pain.

Her Handler wasn't anywhere near her now yet she could still feel his presences. "What are you trying to accomplish here?"

"We can make this stop at any moment. We can bring you back to the good memories. You just need to answer our questions."

Captain Sharp looked down as his communication officer sent him a message. Ensign Cook, she had been married a few months now, watched this from the corner of her eye. She had her real sites focused on the screen in front of her, scanning for any enemy activity. Captain Sharp pursed his lips before speaking. "Ensign Cook, go to your room, you have a private message you need to read."

She looked up, surprised. "I can read the message here."

"That won't be necessary. I'll have your replacement sent up right away. You are dismissed."

Captain Cook watched as her younger self walked off the bridge. She knew what that message was going to say, and the tears swelled up under her eyes. It was still painful, getting news that one of your parents had been killed. It was devastating when it was the only family you had left.

She tried to hide her eyes when she found herself in her old room. The memory wasn't as vivid, some of the knickknacks were blurry blobs while others, things she cherished and managed to keep even after years of moving around, were crystal clear. Her computer was one of the blurry things but the message she read was as clear as the day she had read it.

Ensign Cook's face contorted as she read. Her brows pulled in on themselves, and her lips started to quiver. An involuntary cry fell from her lips as she continued to read. It was all very quick, very professionally written. "We are sorry to inform you that on April 21 your father died when the shuttle he was on lost power and crashed into the Pacific Ocean."

Ensign Cook flopped on her chair and stared into empty space. Captain Cook remembered what she was thinking. She would have to ask permission to go back to Earth. She would have to contact Payton and ask him to join her. So much to do, so little time to mourn.

"That's just the way I was," Captain Cook said. She felt her stomach tighten and did her best to hold back painful tears. "I've dealt with this memory many times. If you want me to crack you'll need to do better than this."

"Grieving for the death of a loved one is something humans are used to and something you do fairly well. No, this isn't what we wanted to show you."

"Don't," Marjorie said, knowing what was likely to come next. She didn't know if she could live through it again, not wanting to remember something that was even more painful to her than her father's death.

The scene changed and Marjorie, dressed in her best military uniform, stood next to a casket. She was alone next to her dead body. The only person she wanted to be there wasn't. She felt uncomfortable being the only person standing there greeting people as they came. The casket was closed and she was happy about that. She knew from reading the reports that the bodies recovered were brutally mutilated, and she didn't want to the last image of her father to be a badly beaten and broken body.

The line for the viewing was out the door of the funeral home. Her dad was very well-liked in the community, and it seemed as if everyone who lived within ten miles came to pay their respects. So many faces greeted her, shook her hand, wished her well and told her they felt sorry for her loss. So many faces and not one of them were Payton.

She kept glancing around the room hoping to see his face. Kept scanning faces in the crowds hoping he had made it. She needed to see him, needed to have him hold her as she cried.

Captain Cook watched and felt the same knot form in her throat as the realization that he wasn't going to show filled her heart with hate. He had not only failed to show but he had stood her up. No less than 24 hours ago he told her he was getting on the next shuttle to Earth and would be there by the time the funeral started. She managed to make it to Earth in less than two days, just in time for the funeral. He was only stationed on Titan while she was half-way between Earth and Ulliam, and she made it, why couldn't he?

"We both know how this is going to end," Marjorie said. "Payton never shows up, he makes up some excuse that I buy without question, all the while I'm dying on the inside because my husband can't find the time to spend with his wife when she really needed him."

"This isn't his first time, is it?"

"No," Marjorie replied dryly, not letting the emotion of the moment get to her. "What are you trying to accomplish with this? I'm been through this. I know what's going to happen, you can pump all these emotions in me, and I still will not tell you what you want to know."

"We don't expect you to tell us today. The good thing about living forever is you can wait for things to happen. If you don't crack today you might tomorrow, or the next day, or in three hundred years when you relive the worst days. The news of Payton's death. The time you ordered your friend Kel into a battle he couldn't win. The time you ordered the Arwen destroyed to save the Earth. Those days will keep happening, over and over again and the feels won't dull, they won't fade because we will make sure they don't. You will crack, Captain. It's just a matter of time."

"Why are you doing this? There are billions of stars, billons of planets without life. Why go after Earth? Why go after planets with life on them?"