A/N: This chapter is dedicated to FairSair6 who has commented and interacted with us as we tell this story. Reader participation is the coin we strive to earn, feedback our reward.

Day 00010 Mission Nilex

Streaking light became twisted arrows, slicing through the mind. ​​Ayla recoiled from the insanity, the chaotic distortion, retreating to the black emptiness of her Gift. There she found words floating around her, offering comfort and balance, soothing her.

"Feel the wind. There is no fear. Breathe the wind. See the path."

Her mind began to flow within the words. They brought order to the chaos.

"Breathe the wind. Here is no fear. See the wind. Feel the path..."

Numbers flowed across Ayla's consciousness like thoughts. An ocean of infinite breadth whose waves comprised ripples of algorithms and numbers. Equations and encryptions crested the waves like white water with its ebb and flow.

Thoughts held frozen, she observed the magnitude of it, an ocean with no horizon. Time had no place here, no meaning. Then, memories stored and filed, the spell broke, releasing her mind to the darkness once again.

«Canaisis?» she thought tentatively to the surrounding infinity.

«I am here, Ayla,» answered Canaisis' voice beside her. «I've never left your side.»

«Was that you I saw?»

«What did you see, Ayla?»

«A universe of numbers and mathematics.»

Canaisis' chuckle was soft and comforting. «A form of me, yes, but you shouldn't have been able to see that. I'd have been more careful had I thought it possible. Your Gift continues to surprise me, Ayla. But then, Humanity often does. You have so much potential.»

«What now, Canaisis?»

«That's up to you. What does your Gift tell you?»

Ayla stilled her mind but felt nothing. Remembering some of what she'd experienced, she knew why.

«I found what my Gift sought. I know now the pain. I understand why he risked his life going to his wife's mausoleum.»

As soon as her response left her, the whispering of wind-blown ash entered a compartment deep within the back of her mind. It pressed against the walls, seeking escape, finding cracks to flow through.

«He needs your understanding, Ayla. I've done all I can. He holds his pain, refusing to let go. Only the Mission sustains him.»

The image of Gareth holding his wife's urn between his gloved hands popped to the fore, and the wind smashed her inner walls, breaking free. It raged, a black dust storm of cutting ash growing, spiraling upward toward her.

«If you stay here, the wind and cold will claim you again. Don't let it in, Ayla.»

Fear struck Ayla, and it was as if the fear itself called the dead world. Cold numbness crept into her hands and feet, and the low grating of ash sounded on the wind. She fought the panic as the weight of a suit settled over her body, compressing her. In the dark of Nothing, she struggled in resistance, paralyzed. Desperate, she cried out for help.

Whispering next to her ear, Canaisis' voice answered, «You are the master of your Gift, Ayla. Open your eyes. This is the path.»

A wind of another kind flowed through Ayla's consciousness. It was clean and crystal pure, shredding the ash-laden wind.

«Open your eyes, Ayla!»

Ayla snapped her eyes open to a light so bright it hurt. Squinting, she swung her face away, and her mouth and nose went underwater. She sputtered for air, her flailing arms and legs splashing water, lapping it over her face.

Arms from behind wrapped around her shoulders. "Eeeasy there."

Ahmid pressed his cheek against the crown of her head as he steadied her on the submerged ledge. "It's okay. You're alright, now."

Involuntary coughs stabbed through her rib cage. Through it she recognized Ahmid's soothing presence and steadfast solidness. She was sitting up now. Water covered her hips and streamed from her hair and face, but Ahmid's gentle thumps between her shoulder blades to help her clear her airways only added to the pain. Gesturing at him to stop, she worked at clearing her stinging throat, wiped her eyes, and looked around.

She recognized the waterfalls. She was in the Garden, sitting with her back against the rock-like edge of the pool, the artificial sun overhead bright, calling forth intense color. Vivid blue of the water, sharp green of the grass, a brilliant cascade of blooming and fruited trees, she took it all in. She wielded it against the black and gray of the dead world within the depths of her mind.

Memories flooded into her, but they seemed from so long ago. She remembered her run to the Oak tree as some insane version of herself. How close she'd come to touching it! That she'd so willingly answered that dark call appalled her, terrified her. She wrapped her arms around herself, realizing how close she'd come to be Lost. The ash, wind, and cold would have claimed her for good.

She became aware of water draining from the sleeves of her robe, and Ahmid's hand resting on her shoulder. Every breath she took made her left side ache.

"We'll have to get that checked. You may have some damaged ribs."

The memory of Gareth slamming into her hit her thoughts with a jolt.

"He saved me," she murmured and turned carefully her body sideways on the underwater shelf.

Confusion flared within Ahmid. "What?"

She wrapped her arms around her bent knees and rested her head as her breathing slowed. Oddly, she found herself preoccupied with the sensation of the water lapping around her hip and thighs.

"He saved me," she repeated softly, trying to wrap her mind around the concept.

"I don't understand what you're saying, Ayla!"

The spike of alarm lacing Ahmid's voice focused her thoughts as she tried to work out his confusion. Lifting her head, she replayed her words and realized what had happened.

I used Gareth's language. But how?

Not looking at Ahmid, she repeated herself, finding her own language odd to her tongue, "He saved me."

"I think you may be right. I didn't like the idea of you leaving the presence of your family. But I knew you needed time by yourself, so I trusted you. You've created quite a mess, dear. One I don't know can be repaired." He drew a deep sigh. "Be as that may be, we shall do the best we can. In the meantime, I'll keep you within my sight at all times."

Ayla dropped her head back on her knees. "Why am I in the water, Ahmid? Where's Lina?" Strangely, she didn't feel cold. She felt weak, and each breath took on a new level of pain.

"I sent her away an hour ago. She was becoming too distressed to do you any good. As for why you're here, you were suffering from hypothermia, so Lina and the Captain brought you here to keep you warm." Ahmid shifted to see the side of Ayla's face. "When you're ready, I'll help you out. I've got two towels here waiting for you."

The moment of kissing Gareth flashed across her mind, and she became mortified with complete embarrassment.

"I'll turn my back, of course, Ayla! You know I think of you as a sister." Ahmid flared with indignation.

She couldn't help but smile at his misunderstanding, relieved that he had. "You're okay, Ahmid. Have no fear. I'm just overwhelmed at the moment. How long was I gone?" She straightened and twisted to face Ahmid more directly, wincing with her rib's complaints. The complaints turned into steady, repeating stabs.

He sat back on his heels with knees just over the pool's edge, his eyes calculating as he catalogued her pains. Instead, he answered, "A little over two hours. How long was your Journey?"

Ayla pondered the question, not allowing herself to be swallowed by the memories. "More than three years."

Ahmid rocked back in surprise. "Gaia! I've never heard of such a thing!" He contemplated for a while, then asked, "Did you find your answer?"

She cocked her head, gaze growing distant in thought. "Yes... and maybe no. But there was something else. Something I was supposed to see. I just don't know why."

"Can you share the Burden, my dear sister?"

Ahmid's love and concern were clear to Ayla, but his feelings didn't matter. Something within her reared up, ready to defend and protect, balancing itself for a battle to the death with claw and tooth.

He froze, gazing at her, waiting, his emotions dampened and cool. She hadn't known she had these feelings within her—where they'd come from, she had no idea. The next step was hers, she realized, as she calmed her racing pulse.

"What I saw is not about the Burden. I think it's about Nilex."

"I'm listening," stated Ahmid in a neutral tone, withholding emotion.

"The Progenitor, her name is Dara. I saw her."

Ahmid's eyes widened. "You're sure?"

"I saw her draw the very drawings we keep in the Forbidden Library."

He sat back on the grass, folding his legs before him. "What can you tell me, Ayla?"

"She was just a little girl when she made those sketches." Ayla pulled the memories of so long ago to the fore. To her, three years of hard training lay between her and the shuttle flight when she/Gareth first met the unusual girl.

"And?"

"She gave them to the Captain, Ahmid."

Ayla felt Ahmid's emotions go flat with shock and confusion. It took a moment for him to collect himself.

"This can be no coincidence, then."

"No. We are where we're supposed to be, I think."

"Does the Captain know this? Can he explain it to us?"

"I don't think he knows any more about this than we do. At least, not when she gave them to him. But... who knows? Maybe he knows something now—so much time has passed.

"Ahmid, he comes from a time long before us. Far longer than anyone has guessed. He's been sailing for much longer than centuries."

"How do you know?"

"Because I saw his Earth from orbit." Ayla waited.

"And?"

"And... the continents of his Earth were not quite the same—they differed from what we know. Not too much—I could recognize it, but their shapes and positions have shifted since the Captain's time."

A low whistle escaped Ahmid. "You're joking."

She gave him a dead stare, and he nodded in understanding. His eyes roamed the Garden as he contemplated, then returned to her.

"Could this be from the ocean level? Any rise or drop of the ocean would change the shoreline drastically."

Memories of Gareth on the station came to her. He'd been sitting in a cafeteria, looking out a huge window as Earth rotated past. That was just before he'd found out he was one of the Two Hundred. "No. The continents themselves have moved since then—some were closer together than now. I saw it."

"Alright... One thing at a time. Let us focus on the Progenitor. I'll pull the sketches from the Library. I want you to look at them, just to be sure. In the meantime, let's get you out of here. I'm jealous, you know. Lina told me about the swim you two had."

Ayla felt a small smile form on her cheeks, despite how she felt. She turned her head to look down at the shelf she sat on. Her water-soaked robe, and the ship clothes underneath, weighed on her.

"I don't recommend climbing up the ledge," added Ahmid. "Lina says the water is waist deep, and there are steps right beside you for climbing out. Do you feel capable of standing and walking in the pool, or would you prefer I come in and help you up?"

Ayla took stock of herself and decided she could make it by herself. She slid her legs into the pool and stood up.

"Careful."

"It's not like I can fall and hurt myself in waist-high water, Ahmid."

"True. But if you slip or pass out, I'd have to jump in after you, and I don't want to go home in wet clothes."

"But you don't mind if I do?"

With a hand on the ledge, she pushed herself through the resistance of the water one step at a time. Ahmid crouched on the top step above the water level, reaching for her. Putting a foot on the first step, she leaned forward and grasped his hand, and he stood up with her as she bit against the pain and climbed out of the pool. She paused on the last step, feeling a bit cool after leaving the warm pool.

"There's more than just towels. Canaisis provided new ship clothes. She made something special for you so you wouldn't have to wear two sets of clothing. She said they'll provide more warmth to offset the chill in the hangar."

He backed with Ayla as she took slopping steps onto the grass, her clothes streaming. They sized each other up.

"You hide it well, but I'd be surprised if those ribs are only bruised."

«Ayla,» Canaisis sounded in her mind, «you have three cracked ribs. The nanos I installed in you are already working at repairing them. If you don't aggravate it, you should be as good as new by tomorrow evening. But for, perhaps, some aches.»

«Really? Thank you, Canaisis.»

She met Ahmid's inquiring gaze and realized she was doing the same thing she'd observed Gareth doing when communicating with the ship. Losing focus on the present. It must seem so strange to Ahmid. She smiled in reassurance.

"Canaisis says she'll take care of it. It will take a while."

He nodded in understanding. "The nanos."

"Yes."

A metal-blue butterfly dove in between them, flew a circle, then disappeared over her head. She watched Ahmid tracking it as it landed on the pin just behind her left ear.

He met her gaze, curious at her lack of surprise. "What's this?"

"A gift from the Captain and Canaisis."

"Oh? Anything else I should know?"

She drew a long breath, once again recalling kissing Gareth, his lips answering hers.

"It's just a gift, Ahmid."

"What does it do?"

"Fly around."

"I'm serious, Ayla. Does it spy on us, track us?"

"It doesn't need to. Canaisis hears everything on this ship. She sees everything. Or have you forgotten?"

"Inside the Fishery, too? I don't think it's possible."

"Yes, even there. I've even spoken to her in the lab."

Ahmid raised one eyebrow, then frowned.

"Before the nanos were given to me." Ayla patted his shoulder. "Relax. I know you don't like the idea, but we have nothing to fear from Canaisis. She has nothing to do with the Citizens. I know her better than anyone, except for the Captain, and she's done nothing but try to help me."

He studied her for a moment. "And the Captain?" he asked quietly.

"Do not pry, Ahmid."

"I do not. I merely ask a question."

"I've only seen honor, Ahmid, and that's all I will say."

Ahmid nodded and pulled her into a gentle hug. Then he kissed her forehead. "I trust you, Ayla." He stepped back and looked down at himself. "And now my clothes are wet. See what you've done?"

Ayla punched his chest. "Where are those towels?"

He motioned behind him as he rubbed the spot of impact, a relieved smile lighting up his face at her showing some normalcy. Ayla found two stacked towels beside a neatly folded robe with a matching sash and an elegant pair of soccasins. She picked up the robe, letting it hang as she admired the angular fractal patterns in shades of dark blue. Silver embroidery woven into the collar and large sleeves rippled with its curving fractals.

She raised her eyes to Ahmid and flicked her chin at him to get lost.

"Right. I'll walk over to the trail and keep my back turned. Is that far enough?"

Nodding, she set the robe down, loosened her sash and robe to drop them on the ground, and glanced at Ahmid. He seemed to be studying a yellow hanging fruit by the edge of the clearing, his hands clasped behind his back. The butterfly took flight as she stripped off the ship clothes and dropped them on her robe, and pulled the hairpin out. In brisk moves, she towel-dried her hair and body, then picked up the new robe and gazed at it.

«Thank you, Canaisis,» she thought. «It's beautiful.»

«You're very welcome. The butterfly was from the Captain. This gift is from me.»

She absently donned the robe, slipping into the soft, layered material, wrapped the sash around her waist, and combed her fingers through her damp hair before reinserting the hairpin. All the time, memories flashed and flowed across her mind. Memories of another time, another place not her own. The moment Gareth's heart stopped beating terrified her. She never wished to experience that feeling again.

The butterfly fluttered in front of her nose, yanking her back to the present.

«Thank you, Canaisis.»

It responded by bouncing in the air in front of her before circling back to the hairpin.

"Alright, you can turn around," she said loud enough for Ahmid to hear as she pulled on the last shoe.

He walked back to her. "You look amazing. But your hair's a mess."

Ayla rolled her eyes, smiling, and picked up the unused towel to fashion it into a Laaj for her hair.

"I'll return this." Ahmid picked up the damp towel. "Be right back."

He walked around the pool and put the towel into the hole next to the waterfall wall. When he returned, he wrung out Ayla's clothes before rolling them into a ball around the wet ship shoes and stuck the bundle under his arm.

"Let's go home. I've had too much excitement today—it's made me hungry."

He draped an arm around her shoulders. Ayla, feeling his brotherly love, nodded. Together, they walked the trail between the trees to the picnic area. She halted, looking up at the Oak tree.

"What are you thinking?" asked Ahmid.

She searched within herself, wishing to give him a truthful answer. "I feel the madness that was within him at the time. It tries to gain hold over me..."

"His time of war, you mean?"

"I've seen so much, Ahmid. He lost one he loved and then lost his people. It saddens me that his people are no more. His pain is my pain, and I don't know when that happened."

"We never know the moment it happens, only the moment we realize it. Such is the way of Gaia.

"I cannot give counsel to you, Ayla. You're the strongest of us, and you've done things I've never heard of in the Oral Records. I don't even think the Elder can help. He never once spoke of the things you've done." He bowed his head and sighed. "We've lost so much over the generations. My father thought we'd seen the last of the Gifted until you showed your ability. You're our treasure, and we've protected you as best we can. But this, I cannot counsel you or protect you. The Captain may be worthy of your choice, Ayla, but you have to be prepared for the fact that you may not be his choice."

"I need to talk to him," said Ayla softly. A vulnerable sadness filled her heart, a desire to comfort.

"I don't know if that will happen. He was furious when I saw him last. He ordered us into cold sleep as soon as possible."

She spun her head to meet his gaze and winced. "But we need several more days to harvest the spawning! He would not take us to New Jordan just to have us starve."

"I don't know, Ayla. All I know are his words. As I said, you created quite a mess."

Ayla continued walking across the grass, steering Ahmid with her around the Oak tree. Purpose returned to her stride as she thought. "I know how we can get him to talk to us."

"You will not make things worse for us, Ayla! I forbid it!"

"He needs to know whose DNA we were created from. She gave him the sketches for a reason. We need to know why. He may have the answer."

"We only see the past. How could she know the