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Olirian didn't know where he was.

He was no longer in the prison, that was clear, but where he was, and why, escaped him. He'd tried to ask, but none of the doctors answered him, By Fosham's Ears barely two of them had made eye contact with him. At least in prison people had looked him in the eyes. This kind of behavior reminded him of before that time. How long ago had that been?

And he was tired.

It wasn't the bone weariness that had been his constant companion for the last...how long? For a long time now. No his body felt fine now. It was a mental tiredness, like what he'd felt after spending days on a problem and finally getting the solution.

One of the doctors waved a wand over him and as his eyes moved up, reached his face, they flicked away. This one knew who he was, and couldn't stand to look at him. That one knew he was a killer.

He realized the door had opened when the people were halfway to his bed. Three humans and an alien. One of the men was from the military and he recognized the uniform, but couldn't place it. The other...the way he dressed didn't call anything to him but the way he moved screamed danger. Unlike him, that man was used to violence. Olirian had never gotten used to it.

The woman was....He couldn't take his eyes off her. She was beautiful, there was no denying that, but it wasn't why he kept looking. She was familiar to him. He studied her face as she talked, trying to place her. He wished his mind wasn't so tired, he was normally so much faster at working out a problem as simple as who someone was.

And she was looking him in the eyes. The surprise derailed his thoughts. She looked at one of the doctors. There had been no revulsion in them, only tenderness, love. Who was she?

She'd asked something of the doctor, what had it been? He tried to focus, this could give him important information.

"I said that his body was fine," the doctor said, his tone clinical, devoid of emotions. "We've cleaned out all the toxins he accumulated during his incarceration, repaired the damage to his internal organs and begun the rejuvenation process. His mind, on the other hand, will be slower to heal. I can bring in a specialist and have it rebuilt, but my understanding is that you need him to recall his past."

She looked down at him and smiled. "Grandfather, please talk to me."

He smiled. "Hello. You are very beautiful for a jailer."

"Grandfather, it's me."

"My name isn't Grandfather, it's Olirian." He had almost forgotten his name more than once in that hole of a prison. He hadn't like what the people there called him, even if it was deserved. He hadn't wanted to be a killer, he had wanted to be a healer.

It was only that young man, who called him by his real name. Who called him Olirian. He had been nice. Sitting with him even as he'd fallen ill. They'd talked for hours, and days sometime. What was his name? He'd been such a good listener.

Martin, that was his name. Was he here too?

She took his hand. Her skin was so soft. Softer than any of the women in the prison. He'd never set out to have relations with them, but he was a man, and he had needs. They'd been happy to help him take care of them. Of course they'd expected him to keep them safe afterward and--

He felt water fall on his hand. She was crying.

"Why are you crying?"

"Grandfather, it's me, Dalia."

"Dalia?" that name was so familiar, who was that?

The laughter came to him first, a memory of him sitting in a room with plush animals, a girl sitting on his lap. No, a child.

"Tell me another story Grandfather." She clapped. His Granddaughter.

He looked at her. "Dalia?"

Her face lit up. "Yes, it's me. I missed you so--"

He pulled his hand out of hers. "You're too old." What were they trying to do? Hadn't the doctor say something about his memories? Were they after his secret?

"Olirian." The voice was deep, on the other side of the bed. He turned his head, expecting a doctor, but instead it was the alien. He looked into brown eyes, a furry face with deep brown fur and small dots in it. A muzzle. He smiled at him. He had a kind smile for an alien.

"We're friends. You're safe here." The voice had a light rumbling to it. It wasn't a purr, but it still reminded him of the cat his mother had given him when he was six. It had been to teach him responsibility. He'd had to take care of her, feed her, clean her litter box. At first he'd been angry at his mother, he hadn't wanted to do that. Why couldn't she have gotten him a model that didn't need to eat and defecate. But the cat had curled up against him at night and purred.

What had happened to the cat? He couldn't remember.

He focused on the alien, he'd said his name a few times. He expected to see anger at being ignored, most people ignored aliens, felt they didn't matter and they didn't like that, but the smile was still there.

"Olirian, are you back with us?"

He smiled. "Of course. Where are we? Which prison is this."

"This isn't a prison," the alien said. Olirian wanted to believe him, it would be so good to finally be out, but a man like him didn't deserve freedom, no matter how much he fought to keep it before they captured him.

"Of course it's a prison. But it's a very nice one."

"Grandfather, please, this is our ship." Her voice was pleading.

"A prison ship?" he'd heard of them, but had never thought he'd see one. He hadn't known prisons exchanged prisoner.

Her hand was trembling in his. She opened her mouth, but the alien shook his head. The alien was in charge? He'd never heard of them ever running something as important as a prison. He wasn't a speciesist, but he'd never thought aliens were intelligent enough to be in charge.

"Don't worry, Olirian," the alien said in a pleasant tone. "Dalia is coming, you'll see her soon."

Dalia? Here? "No!" he tried to sit up, but the alien placed a hand on his chest and held him down. Olirian fought to get up, out of the bed. He had to protect her. He couldn't let them hurt her.

Beeping sounded, sounds of alarm. People moved around him. A hand came at him, but the alien pushed it away.

"Olirian, please calm down. We're friends, you're safe, she's safe."

"Liar!" The rage in his voice surprised him, he'd never gotten angry before, but how had they found her? How could his son let her be taken? When he couldn't push the hand holding him down away, his anger melted away. He looked at the alien. "Please, don't hurt her. She's just a child, she has nothing to do with this."

"We won't hurt her, I promise. We just need to know about Hastead."

Hastead. Of course this was about then. "If I tell you, you have to promise me that you won't hurt her. Not even bring her here. I don't want Dalia to see me like this."

The woman sniffed and wiped tears from her eyes.

"You have my word," the alien said.

Olirian sighed. Sure everyone had known, but they'd never gotten him to admit it. Even in the prison he'd never said those words out loud. At least he didn't think he had. Those last few...days? They were kind of fuzzy, with only Martin for company.

"Alright, It's true. I killed them, each and every one of them."

"I need more, Olirian." The alien's smile hadn't faltered. "There's more to the story."

He nodded. "There was a group of people, researchers, doctors, scientists," he began. He'd told this story to His granddaughter and Grandson. If they had Dalia then telling them would ensure they didn't have to hurt her. "Probably the brightest mind of their time. They'd gotten together because they wanted to save the universe. They were going to create a virus that would save everyone, make them healthy, no matter where they were, what species there were. We were going to save everyone from sickness and even death."

His voice felt raw and before he could search for it, a glass of water was brought to his lips. He took a few sips and sighed. He'd forgotten how good water could taste.

"They succeeded, or at least they thought so, but they'd miscalculated. There was something wrong with the virus. Yes, it would heal, at first, but in time, after years of amazing health, the DNA would unravel. By the time this happened, the entire universe would be infected. They'd made the virus extremely contagious because they didn't want any government to take control of it. To control who would and wouldn't get access to it. They wanted everyone to benefit from it. They'd called it Salvation."

He closed his eyes and felt tears fall. He hadn't cried about that time in so long. "I tried to tell them about the flaw in it, but they wouldn't listen. Their dreams were about to come true, no one in the universe would ever have to suffer again. They couldn't imagine that there had been a mistake. I couldn't even get them to delay the release. I had to act now, and it had to be total. If even one of them survived they could recreate the virus. I dabble with coercion, it was something of a hobby, something to do when I needed a distraction from my research, so I locked down the building so none of them could escape, and killed them all."

"Oh Grandfather." Her hand tightened on his. "What happened to the virus?"

His eyes widened. "It's destroyed." By all the holy ones, this was even worse than he'd thought.

"Are you sure?" she searched his face.

"Of course. I wouldn't leave any of it for people like you to use. I don't care how good your intentions are, if you release it, everyone will die."

"How about the research?" the alien asked. "Was it destroyed?"

Worry assaulted him, but he buried it. There was no way they could find it, he hid it too well. "It's gone."

"Olirian, please. We need to know the truth, your Grandson is going after it."

The woman looked at the alien, surprised.

"Baran? No, no. That can't be. He's just a child. He can't be going to-- No, you're trying to trick me."

"Grandfather, please. I need your help. Something horrible happened to Baran, his family was murdered. They left him to die, but he survived, only his mind broke. He said the solution was your research. Please, I need to stop him before he does something he'll regret."

"Family? Baran?" Baran was just a boy, he'd been eight years old the last time he'd seen him. He hadn't been able to keep away. He'd had to come home and see them. It didn't matter that the Law was after him, they needed their Grandfather.

And the years came crashing down on him. The bounty hunters, being caught, sold to Deep Down, the decades in those caverns. Decades.

He looked at the woman, and this time he knew why she looked familiar. He smiled. "You look just like your mother."

"Grandfather?"

He nodded and she embraced him.

"Oh Grandfather, I missed you so much."

"Dalia, what happened to Baran?"

She wiped her tears. "He was on vacation with his family. He had three children, two boys and a girl."

"And you?"

She shook her head. "I've been too busy running things after mom and dad died."

"Stefron is dead? Celeste?"

She opened her mouth, but it was the alien who spoke.

"Olirian, I know this is a shock, I'm sorry for your loss, but we need to focus on Baran. You and Dalia can talk when we're done."

"And who are you?" Olirian's tone was sharp. How dare this alien meddle in his family's business?

"My name is Tristan, this is my partner, Crimson. Your Granddaughter hired us to stop Baran before he can unleash the virus you created."

"It doesn't exist anymore." The words came easily. He'd spent so many hours repeating them to himself. It had been important that he sounded certain when questioned about it.

"Are you sure?" The alien's voice was soft, but insistent. "Baran must think there's something worth going after."

He looked at Dalia.

"He managed to get into your office."

That confused him, why did she sound like he shouldn't have? He'd never minded having her or him there. The moment they could crawl Celeste would have to come to him to get them.

"After you were caught, the Law came here looking for evidence, Dad locked your office to keep them out. They tried to force him to open the lock, but he reminded them that we're a sovereign people. He never undid the lock, but Baran was always trying to get in it. After his family was murdered, he became obsessed with getting in. He took everything in there, spent months going over them. Now he's gone."

Olirian tried to remember if there had been anything in his office that could lead back to the research. He had kept a lot of things there, but it had been so long. He couldn't remember.

"Can't you use whatever he found there?"

"He took it with him. Got on his yacht and flew off. I tried to get him to come back, but he won't listen to me. He isn't even answering me anymore."

"If he found it among your things," the alien said, "it must be related to Hastead. If I'm to have a chance to stop him, bring him back home, I need to know everything."

Olirian couldn't believe Baran would have found anything, but if he had? He couldn't let his grandson kill everyone in the universe.

He began talking, and as he did, the memories came flooding back.