Eva rubbed her forearms where the straintwine had been wrapped. “Yeah, I’m aware of it.” Her memory flickered to Besteel stringing her and Rovender up by the foot.

“Ah, now it should be apparent that I intend you no harm.” Zin hovered in front of Eva, looking at the marking on her wrist. “So, elucidate this mysterious glyph for me. Tell me, how did you acquire it?”

“First, you tell me,” Eva said, pointing a finger at the floating being, “why do you kill everything you catch and put it on display?”

“I?” Zin was affronted. “I don’t terminate any life-forms. That is the responsibility of the taxidermist. My position is to pursue knowledge through observation and study. Only then can one truly understand an organism.”

“How can you understand anything by killing it?” Eva turned away from him.

“True, it must perish, Eva Nine, but it is a representation, an exponent for its species.” Zin’s eyes sparkled as he floated around his study under the dark cloudy sky outside. He continued, “There exists a vast wealth of knowledge one can acquire by simply peeling away our outer layers and examining what lies inside. Now, you could surmise that within all living organisms there exists a constant, a blueprint, if you will, that is alike no matter what form or environment the organism thrives in. But you would be erroneous in your theorem. There exists no constant, only variables, and yet all organisms strive toward a common goal.”

“And what goal is that?” Eva looked at the collection of plants and animals on Zin’s desk.

“To understand that, Eva Nine, is to understand one of the universe’s biggest mysteries: Why are we here?” Zin floated next to her, a look of self-satisfaction on his round face.

“But couldn’t you just ask? Talk about it?” Eva opened a drawer. It was full of vocal transcoders. She picked one up, speaking to herself, “So much more can be garnered by simply inviting one in.”

“Come again?” Zin glided to her.

“It’s nothing.” She turned to him. “I’m sure that the water bear you killed could have told you much more if only you’d asked.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Zin said, closing the drawer. “Those creatures communicate through primitive means, likely for herd socialization, caretaking of offspring, and mating. I’ve studied numerous homologous life-forms on several similar planets.”

“You’re wrong. They talk,” Eva replied, putting her hand on her hip. “I have a pet water bear named Otto, and he speaks to me all the time.”

“That’s complete and utter nonsense.” Zin crossed his many arms.

Eva sauntered around the large table. “Well, what about this: If you killed and skinned me, you’d never know where or how I got this mark, or who I got it from,” she retorted.