Following Apollyon through the corridors insulated me from the stares of my crewmates, for which I was grateful. As I followed them up the gravity shaft to the VIP cabins, however, I was reminded of just how heavy that armor would be were it to fall on top of me. Luckily gravity remained on my side, and I stepped out after them onto the topmost floor.

  “Wait here,” they ordered, and stood at attention just outside one of the doors which lined the corridor.

  I shifted from side to side impatiently, trying to ignore the gurgling of my overstuffed stomach, exacerbated by the funky gravity. I’d definitely take less food next time. “Should we–”

  Immediately as I began speaking, the door slid open to reveal priestess Medina in her splendid black robes and red headscarf. “Wonderful, you’ve arrived! That will be all, Apollyon.”

  My guide awkwardly saluted, and trudged off back the way we came. I felt a pang of sympathy for their servile treatment, until I remembered how they rattled my head off the floor.

  “You’ve made a remarkable recovery,” Medina observed, glancing down at my feet. She stepped aside and gestured welcomingly. “Do come in, dear!”

  Her room was spatially identical to Unity’s, though her decoration style was very different. In place of cluttered shelves and photographs were crimson tapestries set against matte black walls. Her false windows were largely lightless, aside from that of a few glimmering stars in the distance. Her desk was tidy, and her bed was neatly made with soft-looking black blankets and cushions. The room’s most notable decoration was a gold sculpture of what appeared to be a void star hanging above our heads.

  “It’s... cozy in here,” I remarked, guessing at what compliment might please her most as I stepped into the dimly lit chamber.

  “Thank you, sweet one,” she hummed. “It’s good to see you up and about. I was afraid Harlyle would have your head.”

  “Doctor Laurie gave me some crazy effective pain meds,” I explained. Beside her bed, in a spot I couldn’t see from the doorway, was a stack of paper books beside a bookshelf. “Is this what you needed me for, Sister?”

  She nodded serenely. “Yes, I’m afraid I’ve had a weakness for digital texts lately, and they’ve gotten dusty.” Her soft-spoken words competed with the hiss of a kettle on her desk.

  I knelt by the books while she poured, and read a few of the spines. Void Travellers: a Comprehensive Account, volumes one through five were each as thick as my fist. Sunyata was spelled in golden letters upon a vantablack background. What Remains of the Abrahamic Texts was worn and cracked from age.

  “Do you take sugar with your tea, dear?” Medina called.

  I looked up from the books to shake my head politely. “No thanks. It gives me a weird aftertaste.”

  “As you wish,” she acquiesced. “Please, come have some while it’s hot. Your task can wait.”

  I seated myself in a black velvet arm chair, and accepted the teacup and saucer from her. I noticed that, in keeping with the theme, her lips were painted black with touches of red in the middle. The rim of her cup was soon stained in a similar pattern.

  “Go on, dear one. I know you have a curious soul,” Medina urged.

  I cast my eyes about the room again, trying to settle on what to ask first. “I understand why the color black is significant to you, but why red?”

  Medina took a big sip of her tea, a placid smile on her lips as the boiling liquid slid down her throat. “Black represents the void, while red represents that which lies within us all.”

  “Blood?” I guessed.

  She chuckled lightly. “The soul, child, the soul.”

  “Oh,” I said, as neutrally as I could.

  “What we crusaders believe is not as made up as some would have you think,” she assured me with a knowing smile. “The soul, or animus, is very much a real part of every living human. There are three parts to a human being, which we call mensus, corpus, and animus: mind, body, and soul. Without animus, the body and mind are still. Without corpus, the mind withers and the soul departs. Without mensus, there is no way for the soul to anchor to the body. Do you understand?”

  I took a sip of tea, and burned my tongue. “Ow, hot... sorry, yes, I think so. So the soul commands the body using the brain, according to what you believe?” I clarified.

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  “That part isn’t up for debate, as much as some would like to try. Believe it or not, our order has more scientists than priests.” Her eyes narrowed at the whiff of skepticism, and I thought it best to agree.

  “Right. It makes sense, I think,” I blew steam from my cup. “So, when you die your mind shuts off, which separates your soul from your body. The body rots, and the soul finds its way to the void to rest eternally. Is that correct?”

  She nodded thoughtfully. “I suppose you’re close enough for an outsider. We can explore more advanced truths another time.”

  “May I ask another question please, sister?” I asked, as politely as I could manage. When she nodded, I continued. “What does Abrahamic mean?”

  Medina smiled sadly. “Back before humanity took to the stars, we believed in different teachings. Terra had many religions, but three of the largest were based on the same founding principles.”

  “That’s good, right?” I guessed.

  She shook her head slowly. “They hated one another. The three groups fought with each other, and themselves, and those who believed in other truths, and those who believed nothing. We have moved past such infighting, and consolidated the truths of all Terran religions into our text: the Sunyata. The old texts have largely been lost to time, but a few copies of the important bits remain.”

  I tried again to take a sip. I couldn’t taste it after scorching my tongue. “Why not upload copies to the internet?” I suggested. “If you still have the important stuff, then the old religions don’t have to be lost.”

  Medina laughed sharply. “We have unity now, darling! That’s with a lowercase ‘u’, of course. Why would we introduce discord back into our fragile universe?”

  I set my cup aside on her desk. “Shall I begin cleaning your books now, ma’am?” I offered.

  Medina retrieved a white microfiber cloth from a pocket on her robe, and passed it to me. “I must confess I’m disappointed by your lack of curiosity,” she admitted.

  “Oh that’s not it at all.” I accepted the white rag and went to go sit by the books. “I just like to keep my hands busy. It helps me think.”

  She nodded curtly. “Ah yes, idle hands do the works of man. Carry on.”

  I began to gently wipe down the aging books, taking care not to damage their dry, fragile paper. I could tell she wanted me to keep asking questions, but so far her answers had been less than satisfactory. Maybe she’d have some more practical advice for me. “My roommate Tau was supposed to be showing me around the ship today,” I began.

  Medina interrupted with a dissatisfied grunt. “Yes, the mutant boy. I’m so sorry you have to stay with the likes of him.”

  I cleared my throat noisily. “Um, yeah, thanks I guess. My point is that I still don’t know how things work around here. For instance, is there anywhere I can find manicuring tools?”

  “Manicuring tools?” Medina echoed. “You can find nail clippers in the commissary across from the recreation room.”

  I grimaced. “Maybe a nail file too?”

  Medina tapped her chin thoughtfully. “We sisters of the cloth keep our nails trimmed, not manicured.”

  I set the first three volumes, freshly dusted, back on their shelf. “Where can I find the rec room?”

  “Honestly, child, haven’t you been given...” she trailed off, and tutted disappointedly. “On this ship, every crew member, from the lowliest intern to the most executive VIP is given a communicator like this,” she held up her wrist, upon which was a device just like the ones Nova and Tau wore. “Removing it is a serious violation.”

  I shrugged. “I guess Nova just forgot to give me one. What does it do exactly? I set the next three books on the shelf, and set to work dusting the last one.

  “Everything you might need,” she said simply.

  “Sounds useful. Do you know where I can get one?”

  Medina shook her head. “Speak with your supervisor, dear.”

  I slid the final text onto the shelf, then sat in silence beside her bed for a long moment, putting aside my more practical curiosities for the moment. “You called me a void traveller,” I finally said. “What does that mean?”

  She smiled, and set aside her beverage, then excitedly clasped her hands. “What you are, dear one, is a very special thing indeed! You see, when we humans pass through the gates we can catch a glimpse of eternity, just a sliver of its great peace. Sometimes, however, people can just...” She spread her hands mysteriously. “Disappear.”

  “Really?” I asked skeptically.

  “Quite so!” she replied. “Sometimes the soul can become detached from the body and wander away, or sometimes the whole being can roam, and become lost in the void... until they turn up somewhere and somewhen else. Sometimes they’ve gone mad from the experience, sometimes they’ve merely forgotten who they are and where they came from.” She nodded at me pointedly.

  “So, I was on another ship, and I just got lost in the void?” I asked. “How long do you think I was in there?”

  Medina hummed softly. “Maybe one day you can tell me that.”

  I briefly thought that I might actually be a void traveller, as she said, but I quickly pushed the thought from my mind. If I had been wandering for years, then nothing I saw before experiencing the void in the cargo hold could be consistent with what I saw now... unless I was insane. I didn’t feel insane.

  “Lost in thought?” Medina prompted.

  I fidgeted with the tip of my tail anxiously. “I have one more question,” I said, choosing my next words carefully as I made my way back to the velvet chair. I took a long sip of my tea, which had mostly cooled. “You’ve seen the void too, haven’t you? Nova mentioned that ordained personnel are allowed to wander as we pass through the gates. Also, you stopped Apollyon from killing me in the cargo bay, and he wouldn’t have called you.”

  “Right again,” she praised. “I like to make a habit of experiencing its glory whenever I can.”

  “How do you avoid getting lost?” I asked. “Why doesn’t your soul wander, like mine did?” My ears twitched, betraying my lie, but I doubt she caught it.

  “I know what to expect,” she said. “The leading theory is that travelling happens when someone panics while passing through. There’s no shame in it, of course. My order uses a special drug to simulate the sensory deprivation of the void, to train ourselves to comprehend its peace.”

  I smiled politely. “Thank you, sister. You’ve given me much to think about.” I finished off my tea in another gulp. “I should probably ask around for a communicator, if I don’t want the captain to come down on me.”

  “It’s been a pleasure,” Medina said sincerely. “Do good work. I’ll have my paladin escort you to where you need to go, so you don’t get lost.”

  “Oh that isn’t necessary,” I protested.

  “Don’t be silly!” she insisted, tapping on her communicator. “It’s my pleasure.”