Ungrateful brat. She had never wanted for anything in her life. The University took care of everything she needed; food, protection and education. She could've lived a great life as a engineer or even as an politician if she'd put her mind to it. Instead, she'd only been content with greed and destruction. Good riddance to bad rubbish, I say.

-Shila Zakharov,

"The Words of the Created."

It's interesting to hear four people say "no" in unison, Zakharov mused to himself. Deirdre had asked the faction leaders to join her and Zakharov via the comm. to discuss Zakharov's request to speak with Meskha directly. However, it seemed that they all had the same viewpoint as Deirdre.

"Zakharov, you know as well as any of us that exposing Meskha to direct contact is dangerous," Miriam started. "We decided that over ten years ago."

"Why would you want to talk to her directly anyways, Zakharov?" Yang asked. "There's nothing you or anyone else can gain from her. She's just a tired old woman earning her judgment."

Zakharov turned to monitor that displayed Yang's face. "But maybe she's not just that. For some reason, she's appearing to me in my dreams. She promises death and destruction to my wife, my faction and myself. It scares me to think that she might be capable of that."

"Zakharov," Lal interrupted, "it's the one-hundred-year anniversary of the capture and judgement of Meskha. I would think it shouldn't be a surprise that someone so detrimental in your life would be present in your subconscious."

"Perhaps," Zakharov responded. "I just want to be sure."

Santiago's face flickered to attention as she spoke. "I don't see what good it would do to expose her to direct human contact. We decided that ten years ago with the implementation of Armageddon. Why don't you just speak to her that way? You're a faction leader, you have access to the program."

Zakharov shook his head. "She won't talk to me through Armageddon. It works on a machine-to-mind interface, and she recognizes my mindwaves. I've tried many times, only to receive emptiness."

"Well," Deirdre interjected, "it's something to ponder until the next scheduled plantetary faction meeting. As for now, the near-unanimous vote of 'nay' still stands. Meskha will not be disturbed physically."

The faction leaders, including Zakharov, nodded at her judgement. Zakharov didn't really expect much more than that. He turned his head to Yang, who was slowly shaking his head as he spoke. "So, who's heard the latest about Morgan?"

Zakharov watched as all five leaders looked towards the only monitor in seven without a face projecting from it. He had watched as Deirdre attempted to invite Morgan to the meeting five times, to no avail.

"Either he's becoming isolationist, or his government has been overthrown," Deirdre said, to no one in particular. She turned her attention to the row of monitors. "I believe I have an obligation to send a recon unit to Morgan Industries to discover the cause of his silence."

Zakharov, who was sitting next to Deirdre, put his hands behind his head and shrugged. "I don't recommend it."

Deirdre turned to him with a quizzical expression on her face. "I know you don't particularly care for him, Zakharov, but I feel it's my duty as planetary governor to ensure the safety of our faction leader comrades."

"That may be true," Zakharov replied, "but in all actuality you're only going to discover one of two things. You'll either find a destroyed hovel run by rioting drones, or a pissed-off Morgan who didn't want to be disturbed by us in the first place."

Deirdre cleared her throat. "Your opinion is noted, Zakharov, but I would still like to make sure the Morgan Company wasn't overtaken by Demon Boils, or something of the like."

Zakharov noted his acceptance of her explanation. Deirdre turned her attention back to the screens. "Any other questions or concerns?" The rows were silent. "Then we will hold our next official planetary meeting in six months time. Thank you all for appearing on such short notice, and if there are any pressing concerns affecting any of you, please don't hesitate to call me...you know my frequency. Deirdre out."

The monitors all flickered off one by one as the leaders returned to their business. Deirdre turned to Zakharov with a confused expression. "You seem a bit annoyed today."

Zakharov shrugged. "Just a little frustrated at the concern with keeping Meskha so isolated. I mean, we suffered from her most of all, but do you think that just talking to her directly will somehow let her reestablish her connections? It's been a hundred years, the only people that are still alive from when she was younger are the faction leaders, and we certainly aren't going to help her gain power again."

Deirdre stood up, gesturing for Zakharov to do the same. "Maybe we're not worried that she'll reestablish connections, Zakharov. Maybe we're worried she'll just start establishing new ones. There are plenty of people on Planet who wouldn't mind anarchy instead of peace; and as we both know, Meskha is certainly capable of bringing anarchy."

"It's just a bit disheartening, Deirdre, to keep having these awful nightmares. Not even drugs help to get rid of the darkness she and her memories bring into my mind."

"Maybe some tea with honey will calm you down a little bit, Zakharov." She gestured towards the door. "Let's just chat a little bit in my quarters before it's time for you to go back home."

Zakharov couldn't help smiling. "Sounds like a plan," he said, following her out of the control room.

"Is there anything my engineers can do to help?" Deirdre asked, between sips of tea.

Shila shook her head sadly. "Prokhor's tried everything possible, along with the help of countless other scientists over the years. Either there's something that we're missing entirely, or people like me just can't be recreated. It just might not be possible to make another sentient being. Maybe I just got lucky."

Zakharov scratched his head and leaned back in his chair. "The closest I've ever gotten was a particularly temperamental drone. He seemed sentient in the beginning, but it never did attain the level Shila did. So I put him to work in Base Operations, by his request."

Deirdre put her hands on the table, one on top of the other. "Maybe you were simply a gift from Planet, Shila."

Shila cocked her head sideways. "A gift?"

"It's just a theory. But Planet might've seen that Zakharov was lonely while he was working on you. So perhaps it granted you a spirit…a soul."

Zakharov took a sip of tea and yawned. "I remember back to when I wasn't a spiritual man, Deirdre. It was so much easier back when I could pretend that anything that couldn't be proven wasn't real."

Deirdre smiled. "Yes, that was back in the days when anyone who had a love for planet and talked to the ground was a 'crazy tree-hugger', eh, Zakharov?"

Shila raised her hands. "Hey, I loved animals and plants and I wasn't crazy!"

"'Wasn't'," Zakharov emphasized, with a smile. "That was before you started on this baby crusade. Every day it's 'me want baby Prokhor!!!'"

Shila pouted. "I don't do that!"

Deirdre chuckled. "She's obviously just waiting, Zakharov. You've kept the poor girl waiting for a hundred years. I'd be impatient too."

"Yeah!" Shila said, playfully punching his arm. The smile on face began to gradually fade. "So what's the consensus on Meskha?"

Deirdre's eyes dipped downwards. "It's nay. The best thing I can suggest is trying to talk to her on Armageddon. The council refuses to allow anything else."

Zakharov and Shila nodded together. There was no point in arguing the issue.

"It's beginning to get late. I would be happy to get the VIP quarters ready if you'd like to spend the night."

Zakharov shook his head. "We already spent the night last night, Deirdre. I refuse to impose on your hospitality. Our shuttle will get us back to University Base by midnight. We should probably get going, as you must have things to do too."

Deirdre stood up. "A few, but nothing too big. Might I ask a favor, though?"

Zakharov cocked his head. "Hmm?"

"Try and contact Morgan, for my sake. I know you're the only one who hasn't even attempted to contact him, and maybe you'll have better luck."

Zakharov fidgeted, but agreed. "Only for your sake." Deirdre smiled as Zakharov. "Let's go. We'll talk to you soon, Deirdre." She watched as the two headed out the door, and sat down once more. She still had time to finish her tea.