Vessa breathed in and out, in and out. The air ragged in her throat. Her mind spinning. Though whether it was because she had been deprived of air or because of the fading memory was debatable.

  She grabbed for the details of the memory as her chest heaved in air. Both memory and air felt elusive. Had it been her mother or her father holding her? Vessa couldn’t remember. And what she could, she didn’t want to. She had felt loved and protected.

  That felt as jagged as the air coming in.

  Vessa was an orphan or abandoned as a baby. She did not have parents. She had been at the Homes all her life.

  In the memory She had been standing, her head hitting someone’s stomach.

  They had lied. But of course they had.

  Except it had been the people at the Homes that had lied.

  A place and people Vessa had held for when she needed to remember a happier time. Now that was crumbling.

  As Vessa continued to gulp down air, tears ran down her face. She had almost died. She had wanted to. Now? Now she wanted to all the more. An aching hole that felt like it was taring her apart. And nowhere to go. Why would she want to live? Except it didn’t seem she had a choice. But then again, what was new about that?

  Vessa rubbed her face and took breaths in that finally didn’t feel like water pouring through a burst dam. Life was misery and there wasn’t a way out, so she needed a plan. And really, nothing was new. How many times had Douwell told her they were lying? Vessa had always known she was right. Maybe not at the Homes, but definitely after. Except that it hadn’t mattered, and complying allowed her more freedom.

  Now? She had to find peace with going back. That was the only option. Bury everything else and be…. be what? Okay with killing kids? Killing one had sent her down this rabbit hole. Get Douwell or others to do it for her? Or allow her carnal nature to take over to such an extent she wouldn’t remember? Something.

  She had parents. What else were they lying about?

  Vessa opened her eyes to get away from her mind and its questions; expecting to see the white ceiling of her cell. Instead, a canopy of branches and leaves greeted her. She jumped up to standing and then fell against a metal wall.

  Her vision cleared to green glowing ground that clearly indicated she was not in a forest, except the rich brown dirt on either side of the floor.

  Vessa looked up from the ground to the ceiling and walls. A forest with amazing detail, but still obviously a painting.

  Where was she?

  A hallway going down both sides hitting turns. Walls and a ceiling that had black branches and green leaves.

  Black and green, IIA colors. She was still on the spaceship.

  Female 24: 42%, Male 37: 29%, Male 21: 36%, Male 38: 20%

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

  And something was happening. What should she do? The only thing she could do. Wait for everyone to die and the Umbaan to retrieve her, then wait for her people to come and take her back.

  Vessa looked around the hallway, no doors, no nothing. So just wait in the hall or walk around until something happened? Vessa picked a direction as she trailed her hand along the wall. Her mind spiraling on her limited options. She could try to force the Umbaan to kill her.

  Once they took her she could keep killing until they had no choice. Not defending herself. Except Vessa had done that, minus the ample killing, and her instincts had taken over. Teleporting her away.

  Another lie, or rather a secret they had kept from her. Vessa could teleport, though why was still a mystery.

  A thought, a dangerous thought, occurred to her.

  Vessa could teleport so maybe she could escape.

  Except given that a Wisher had gone through the trouble; it was clear they knew of her ability to teleport. Or at least the possibility of it, and it wasn’t likely she was the only one. So they probably had counters leaving her at square one.

  Though if she could teleport back to base and skip the Umbaan step of the plan, that might win her goodwill. Both sides could pretend that the Umbaan and or the Casters hadn’t been trying to steal her away.

  It was sad that was her best option.

  Vessa kept walking down the hall, her footsteps loud on the metal ground, as she kicked up the rich brown dirt. She couldn’t imagine it was supposed to be on the ground, but didn’t have any ideas as to why it hadn’t been swept up.

  Unless it was like the chalk and paint from Esaul. What magic caused there to be copious amounts of dirt?

  Vessa froze when she heard a random noise, but nothing happened, so she went back to walking.

  She wondered what she would do if she ran into people.

  She could kill them, help whatever was dropping and disappearing numbers. Vessa shook her head. When she got back to base, she would be assigned more to kill. No need to add to her kill count.

  She turned the corner and paused. There was a group of people standing over others who looked to be injured.

  Male 26: 2%, Male 21: 14%, Male 33: 0%, Male 27: 18%, Male 38: 0%

  Yep, dead or dying.

  She should call out to those kneeling besides the fallen and tell them that they were too late to do anything. Instead, she took a step backwards.

  Her step was loud, too loud.

  And the people all looked at her. Vessa reached for their numbers just in case, and got nothing.

  She reached again and then again. Nothing each time.

  Footsteps and Vessa’s attention was dragged back from the numbers.

  The people were halfway to her, and their faces looked wrong.

  She reached twice more before she realized she should run.