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moments and Pet knew that it was impossible.
    When she started to speak to herself, she noted a peculiar side effect in the local fauna. Animals approached her with a dazed expression while she spoke, hummed or sang. After a while, she became used to her company and it gave her practice talking to people. Her own voice had a peculiar quality, a reverberation that she did not recall from her early memories. She was in one such contemplation when she heard the unmistakable thrum of engines in the atmosphere.
    She crouched along the edge of the treeline and watched the ship land. The people exiting the ship were not Marcovian and had a comforting similarity to her own features. The four men had palm scanners and as their sweeps came her way, Pet huddled in the underbrush.
    “Over here!”
    She cringed back as they all started to walk toward her. When she had moved behind the cover of trees, she ran for it, hiding in the backup hole next to her camp. Her fire was still burning and her meal was nearby and untouched.
    She watched from her hiding spot as they investigated her camp and she remained quiet while they touched the few items she had put together. One of them swept past her hiding place with the scanner and when he passed her spot, she exhaled in relief.
    Her exhalation must have caused a ripple effect in the leaves, because a hand suddenly ripped open the top of her little hidey-hole. Light covered her and the men gasped as she was exposed.
    They crouched around her and each of them put on a smile that was meant to be reassuring.
    “Miss, we need to take you in for medical treatment. How long have you been here?” One of them spoke softly to her and she looked up at him.
    “What is my name?” It was the question that burned in her soul every moment of every day.
    They jerked visibly as she spoke, her voice rippled over them and their eyes glazed over. She darted past them and was halfway across the clearing before they came out of their stupor.
    The men were fast on their feet. She had to give them that.
    She tried to scream when she was lifted in the air, but a hand covered her mouth and she was held against a hard body while it walked back to the ship. The hand stayed firmly clamped against her mouth, but it was thoughtfully positioned so she could breathe.
    With only her metal bands and small panties covering her skin, she could feel every callous on the hand around her belly as well as the one over her mouth. They were the hands of someone who did more than fly ships for a living.
    He carried her to the ship and settled her into a seat, giving her an admonition to shush. “We can’t do our jobs if we hear your voice, so please hold all questions until we are on the warship.”
    She nodded and bit her lip while fiddling with her armbands. She didn’t know who they were or where they were taking her, but a ship this nice meant hot meals and a shower and she could really use both.
    * * * *
    “We found one. After all these years, we found a siren.” Tomas rubbed the back of his neck and grinned at Rejik.
    Rejik scowled. “We haven’t confirmed that that’s what she is.”
    Their guest was sitting quietly as requested, her dark hair knotted and her body still dotted with the Marconial marks of possession. Rejik had searched for Edinar survivors his entire adult life and none of the few he had met had ever affected him this way.
    From the moment he’d pulled the roof off her hiding place, he had seen nothing but her glowing eyes staring into his own.
    To Rejik’s eyes, Tomas was being a little too callous to the woman listening to everything that they said. “She is our guest and you need to treat her with respect.”
    Tomas sobered as he absorbed the tone that Rejik was using.
    Rejik looked back at the woman as Sorn and Welkin piloted them toward the warship. She seemed to have weathered her time on the surface well. Her small camp had been fairly well stocked for a woman alone in the wilderness.
    Tomas was