Shirley was becoming concerned with her mother. Some nightmares were expected; it was how all organic brains, regardless of origin, seemed to process adverse experiences. However, although everyone else seemed to be acclimating to the new planet, her mother’s nightmares showed no signs of abating.

Why? Shirley needed more data. Unfortunately, although organic brains could have their recent memories wiped, searching and retrieving specific types of memories was very difficult. The most obvious way around this was to simply ask her. Yet her mother would likely resist confiding in her or any of the crew. She always insisted that it was her duty to look after her crew, not the other way around.

Which meant, if she opened up to anyone, it would be someone she trusted outside the family.

Shizuka Satomi. If Lan had confided in anyone, it would be her.

Shirley would speak to Shizuka Satomi about her mother, their mission, and what might be on her mother’s mind.

But then again, who exactly was Shizuka Satomi?

Shirley hesitated. She usually trusted her mother’s judgment. After all she was her mother and the captain, as well. But this was just a quick background check, for contact info, maybe an email. She should be easy to find.

She quickly ran a search. She stopped. She ran the search again.

This was puzzling. Some violinists referred to her as their beloved teacher, but apparently she had not taught any students for over ten years.

And beyond that? Nothing.

Shouldn’t a teacher also have a playing career? Shirley bypassed the search functions and examined the planet’s entire database for Shizuka Satomi. She tried an inventory search for recordings of her work. She even conducted a raw binary search.

Nothing. Not a trace.

How could this be? Everybody left some evidence of activity. This was no virus, no ordinary oversight. An absence of this magnitude could only mean an intentional deletion. With more probing, Shirley realized that this deletion was precise and complete, extending even to physical recordings of her music.

Shirley’s guard went up. If an entity could manipulate data on this scale, Shirley’s own existence might be vulnerable.

Shirley reconsidered her search. Since the erasure seemed highly specific, limited to Shizuka Satomi’s music, there might still be a workaround. Shirley shifted her strategy. Rather than continuing to probe for Shizuka Satomi as a teacher of musicians, or as a musician herself, she filtered out any mention of music at all.

Instead, she focused completely upon a curious nickname, “the Queen of Hell.”

And that led her onto message boards of an entirely different sort.

Lan descended from the donut. She pulled off her face mask, and underneath she was smiling.

“These filaments look fantastic. Excellent job with the nanocoating, Shirley. Shirley?”

“Mother,” Shirley said, “I believe we’ve made a horrible oversight.”

“What?”

“We need to talk.”