“Thank you, Captain. Your assistance has been invaluable.”
Trevan waved a dismissive claw. “Varn’s the one you should thank. I’m just the driver.” His orange eye fixed on Melissa, then on the sleeping infant in Becsul’s arms. “The human child. He’s healthy?”
“Healthy and strong.” Becsul couldn’t keep the pride from his voice. “His mother has taken excellent care of him.”
“Good. Good.” Trevan hesitated, his expression shifting to something more uncertain. “I should tell you… there’s something you may not have considered. About the Patrol.”
Becsul’s skin prickled with sudden unease. “What do you mean?”
“The humans.” Trevan glanced at Melissa, then back at Becsul. “They were taken from their homeworld without consent.Subjected to trauma. The Patrol has protocols for situations like that.”
“Yes, I know. They’ll document everything, take statements?—”
“They can also wipe their memories.” Trevan’s voice was flat, matter-of-fact. “Send them home as if none of this ever happened. It’s standard procedure for first-contact violations.”
The words hit Becsul like a physical blow.
He felt the blood drain from his face, and next to him, Melissa had gone very still.
“What?” Her voice was barely a whisper.
“Memory modification.” Trevan’s expression was sympathetic but practical. “The technology exists. The Patrol uses it to protect pre-contact species from psychological trauma. To preserve the natural development of civilizations that aren’t ready for galactic knowledge.” He paused. “In cases of kidnapping and trafficking, it’s offered as an option to the victims. A chance to forget. To return to their lives as if the abduction never occurred.”
Becsul couldn’t breathe.
He’d known about memory modification technology, of course. It was used occasionally in military operations, to protect sensitive information or spare soldiers from the worst of their experiences. But he’d never—it had never occurred to him that it might be applied here. To Melissa. To them.
They could take her from me. Take her memories of me. Send her back to Earth, where she’d never know I existed.
The thought was unbearable. A pain so sharp it felt like his hearts were being torn from his chest.
But even as the agony washed through him, another thought followed on its heels, quieter but no less powerful:
If that’s what she wants. If that would make her happy…
He loved her. He loved her more than he’d ever loved anything in his life. And love meant wanting her happiness, even if it destroyed him.
“I see.” His voice came out steady, which surprised him. “Thank you for informing us, Captain.”
Trevan nodded slowly, his orange eye flickering between them. “I thought you should know before you arrived. So you have time to… discuss.” He retreated through the door without another word, leaving them alone with the weight of what he’d revealed.
The silence stretched between them, heavy and suffocating.
Becsul stared down at Robbie’s sleeping face, memorizing every detail. The curve of his cheek. The tiny fingers. The way his dark hair curled against his forehead. Would he remember me? he wondered. If they wiped their memories, would some part of him know that he’d once been held by someone who loved him?
“Becsul.”
He couldn’t look at her. Couldn’t bear to see whatever was in her eyes.
“Look at me.”
He forced himself to raise his head, to meet her gaze. Her expression was unreadable, her dark eyes searching his face with an intensity that made his hearts race.
“You’re thinking about it,” she said quietly. “Whether I should choose the memory wipe.”
“I’m thinking about what’s best for you.” The words came out rough, scraped raw. “For Robbie. If you could go home—truly go home, without the weight of everything that happened?—”
“Stop.” She pressed her fingers to his lips, silencing him. “Just stop.”
