The chamber door slid open with a barely audible whoosh, like a little rush of water. The man who stood at the head of the ship heard it almost immediately, his ears tuned in. He'd been waiting for it for hours now, and the sound had finally come. Surrounded by a dozen of people at their stations, ensuring the ship’s safe travels, all while watching the blackness of space pass through the window in front of him, he felt a little relieved.

Without turning from his post, he asked, “Results?”

"Everything as expected,” a feminine voice returned, professional and compact in tone. “Beckihem woke a few moments ago, memory of Earth completely wiped, just as you asked.”

The man at the head of the ship drew in a slow breath, quietly enough that only he would be able to hear it. “And the recruits?”

“The boy is responding to the treatment well—his body is young enough, I believe, that he should adapt to Luyah for a few years without injury. The girl, however…”

The man turned quickly, the movement startling those around him. “Which one?”

The woman stood straight, her spine turning to steel. “The one with red hair. Her body is showing signs of early failure in response to the treatment.”

Damn. It was something he was expecting, and yet the fruitlessness of it still left him feeling hopeless, defenseless. It was something he took care not to show on his expression, though. It was perfectly masked inside, and only his faltering heartbeat showed how truly sad he was of this news. “Keep her as comfortable as you can. How is Jonas?”

“She’s in her simulation, just as you asked,” the woman replied. “We had to adjust the treatment slightly—her heartrate wandered into the range that’s dangerous for humans—”

“Does she know?” he demanded.

“She’s still asleep. We haven’t broken her from the simulation. She still thinks she’s on Earth.”

That thought settled in him, easing away some of the restlessness inside him. If she was still in her simulation, that meant she didn’t know, not yet. Soon she would, but not yet. Though other voices were pestering at him to awaken her—especially the voice of his lu’ier. She was almost as anxious to see her as he was, but fear of the unknown still kept its control over him.

“Will there be anything else, Doug?”

Doug. It was the name he’d gone by on Earth, and hearing it aloud felt so informal. However, it was better than going by his true Luyahian name, which was a mouthful. Ever since he came back to Luyah, he asked the others to use Doug from there on out. And though many of them thought it strange—especially because he refused to shed his human skin as well—they obliged. Besides, who were they to disobey a direct order? “I want hourly updates on Jonas,” he responded, turning back to face the depthless void of space. “And the next time you mess with her simulation, you clear it with me first. She’s not to break free of it, do you understand me?”

“Yes, sir,” she responded. “I understand completely.”

“Then you’re dismissed.”

The soft whoosh of the doors sliding apart again went undetected by him this time, mostly because he was lost in his thoughts. Beckihem was wiped, no longer a piece of the equation. Which was good. The last thing he needed was his influence over his daughter. However, the asme couldn’t be done for Jonas. When she woke, she would remember him, demand to see him, and that would cause all sorts of problems.

How was he going to tell her that the person she knew and loved was gone? Betrothed to someone else, ready to take his rightful place at his House of Lahelm, basically royalty by human standards?

In fact, how was he even going to tell her that her parents, whom she presumed dead all this time, were really alive and well on an alien planet, from which they originated from?

How was he going to tell her that she, herself, was a Luyahian?

He had no idea, which was why he had no intentions of waking her—not for a long, long time.