The archives on Dumera weren’t grand or particularly large, but they were located in the grandest and largest of the jivera trees in the colony’s center.

A dead tree, however. And fittingly, an ancient one.

The bark had been carefully preserved, to make it seem as if it was still a living thing. But the inside of the trunk had been hollowed out and lacquered in metal to prevent shifting over time. The tree, though dead, was as sturdy and strong as any of the structures on Dumera.

Just like most dwellings, there was a stable platform built high in the branches, where all the archivists worked and where restoration and uploading took place. But it was within the lacquered trunk that held thousands and thousands of years of history and text from all over the Quadrants, neatly organized in temperature and humidity controlled glass rows that could only be accessed by an automatic pulley-system that ran up and down the trunk’s very center.

Eve would be lying if she said it wasn’t terrifying in the center of the trunk. Even after working at the archives for over two months, she didn’t know if she would ever get used to it.

The pulley-system was similar to the elevator tubes on Everton, but much, much smaller, a lot less stable, and made of clear crystal glass. Even the floor. Whenever she descended into the trunk, she looked down and all she saw was darkness.

Unfortunately, this pulley-system was one of the easiest ways to enter and exit the archives, so Eve had to take it at least twice a day. It was that or climb up a mounted 80-foot ladder to the top and pray for steady footing.

“Breathe,” Puoji said, looking at her in the tube as they descended. They were done with work for the day. “I thought you would be done with this fear by now.”

The bottom landing couldn’t come soon enough and when the tube finally met the ground, Eve let out the breath she’d been holding and hurriedly stepped off.

Puoji followed her and together, they stepped through the metal doors of the jivera trunk and out into the humid, warm air of the colony. The days were getting darker sooner, Eve noted, always curious about Dumera’s rotation.

Puoji, the first friend she’d made at the archives, had told her that during the ‘dark days’ as she called them, the colony got cold. Cold enough for what she called ‘ice drops’ to fall from the sky.

A part of Eve looked forward to these ‘dark days.’ She preferred the colder climate and shorter days meant Khiva would return from the mines earlier.

Her chest squeezed at the thought of him. It had been three days since he’d left and she hadn’t received any news from him.

“I shall see you,” Puoji said, reaching out to squeeze her wrist, which was apparently a Muerian ‘goodbye.’ “My male is waiting.”

Eve forced a smile, nodding. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She watched Puoji wind her way deeper into the colony’s center, where she lived with her male in one of the more densely populated jiveras.

Then she blew out a breath, feeling her stomach growl, hungry again, and she turned the opposite direction before heading home.

It was busy within the colony’s center like always but Eve weaved her way through the streams of beings, from all different species, from all different corners of the Quadrants.

That was what she liked best about Dumera, the diversity. Every being was so different that no one looked twice at anyone else. Not like on Everton, where Khiva had had to cloak himself from head-to-toe to avoid being spotted.

Eve understood why her father had liked Dumera so much. It was the complete opposite of Everton and full of hard-working beings who just wanted to make a better life for themselves and their families. There was no glittering, obscene wealth there. Life was quiet, slow, and yet full.

And the last two months had been the happiest of her life with Khiva, as they slowly carved out a place for themselves on Dumera, together.

Right then, Eve felt the loss of him, deep in her bones. She regretted the way they’d parted, even if he’d told her it was only for a few days. What if something happened to him when he was journeying with Kavik? Just like all planets, there were creatures, dangers.

He should be home soon and yet something told Eve that he wouldn’t be. She’d gotten very little sleep, in their empty bed, without him being there. Her wild imagination worried over every little thing that could possibly go wrong until she paced their bedroom floor in the early hours of morning.

It didn’t matter that last time they’d been together, they’d argued and she’d felt hurt by his apparent dismissiveness over her pregnancy. All that mattered was that he returned home safely, back to her.

Eve was so occupied in her thoughts, her feet on auto-pilot as they carried her home, that she didn’t see a familiar male standing at the base of their jivera tree, next to their ladder until he stepped directly in her path.

“Oh,” Eve exclaimed, her eyes flashing up in surprise. A smile crossed her face when she saw who it was. “Gorkan! I didn’t know you were stopping by.”

“I wanted to check on you,” the older Bkari said. “Is your male still absent?”

Her late father’s oldest friend smiled in the Bkarian way, with full rows of pointed teeth in a wide mouth. It might’ve looked menacing to a stranger, but Eve grinned back, happy to see him.

Gorkan had been good to them. It had been him, after all, who had come to help her on Everton, who had provided both her and Khiva passage to Dumera, and not only helped them secure their home, but also their jobs. Frankly, Eve didn’t know how she would’ve managed it all without him.

“He is,” Eve replied, her smiling dropping slightly. “Can you come up for a little while? Are you hungry?”

Gorkan’s green skin, mottled with grey patches, which apparently signaled his age, seemed to brighten with the mention of food.

“Yes, I am,” he replied and Eve almost laughed. Just like her these days, Gorkan always seemed to be hungry.

“Good,” Eve replied. “I’m glad you came because I have news to share with you. Come up, come up. And then I’ll get dinner started.”

Eve waved him up the ladder behind her and soon, they were both standing on the landing. When she opened the door, she peered around for any sign of Khiva and her heart dropped slightly when she saw he wasn’t home.

“Let me get you some of that tea I steeped for you last time,” Eve said, urging Gorkan to sit on one of the cushions in their sitting room.

Gorkan made a chirring sound in his throat, one she knew was excitement, and she went over to their kitchen and pressed a button for clean, hot water, pouring it into one of their tea pots. After she assembled the dried Dumerian herbs together, she dropped them in to steep.

“Come sit for a while, Little Eve,” Gorkan urged. “You have been working hard all day.”

Eve smiled and instead of starting on dinner, she did as he asked, carrying the tea pot and two small cups on a tray over to the sitting room.

She poured his tea once it was ready and handed the steaming cup to him. He slurped it with appreciation, liking hot liquids, while Eve waited for hers to cool so as not to scald her tongue.

Gorkan let out a pleased sigh. It didn’t take much to please the older Bkarian and no doubt, the male’s easygoing demeanor was what her father had appreciated most about him. In fact, Gorkan reminded her a lot of her father, she thought with a sad smile.

“What news do you have, Little Eve?” Gorkan asked, always curious. Gorkan had told her that all Bkarian’s were curious, almost to a fault.

Eve’s hands tightened in her lap, remembering the intense morning sickness she’d been experiencing since Khiva left. Yesterday, she’d stayed home from the archives because she’d felt so ill and dizzy.

“I’m pregnant,” she said softly, with a smile.

Gorkan made a loud sound as he inhaled, his features contorting in surprise. “Truly?”

“Yes,” Eve said, laughing at the shock on his face. “I am. The healer says I’m a month along, though she doesn’t know how long I’ll carry.”

“Oh, Little Eve,” Gorkan said, his voice warm, his somewhat frightening grin widening even more, reaching out to squeeze her fingertips with affection. “This pleases me. Very much so.”

A ball of emotion lodged itself in her chest and for some reason, she felt her throat burn with tears.

“I am quite pleased too,” she said, smiling, though her eyes filled with moisture.

She realized that this was the reaction she’d wanted Khiva to have. One of excitement, not one of immediate denial, followed by his stone heap comment.

Eve tried to pull herself together before she started to become a blubbering mess in front of someone she’d come to dearly love and respect.

But Gorkan sensed it anyways. He’d spent too much time with her father that Eve could never get away with obvious human emotions.

“What is this?” he asked, his voice softening. “Do not cry, Little Eve.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered softly, trying to smile through her tears and she dashed them away with the back of her hand.

Gorkan patted the brown, leathery vest he wore and pulled a piece of what looked like dried parchment paper from the pocket there, handing it to her.

Eve blotted her tears with it and she said softly, “It’s just been a little hard the past few days. More so than I thought it would be.”

“Because your male is not here? Because you worry for him?”

“Yes,” she said softly. “But it’s more than that.”

“What is wrong?”

Eve inhaled a deep breath, feeling it calm her. She admitted, “I fear that Khiva isn’t happy that I’m pregnant.”

Gorkan made a harsh sound in the back of his throat, guttural and rough. “Nonsense, Little Eve. All males rejoice in children.”

“Maybe Bkarians,” Eve said, turning her face to meet his eyes. “Keriv’i are different. And when I told Khiva…” She sighed, feeling the need to tell someone what had happened. “He has so many things going on right now in his mind. He’s been distant and tired, both physically and emotionally. I think it was difficult for him to hear. It wasn’t a pleasant conversation and he left for the southern tip before we talked about it again.”

“Oh, Eve,” Gorkan murmured.

“I wanted him to be happy. To share in that with me.”

Gorkan went quiet as Eve dabbed the inner corners of her eyes. She prayed that this wasn’t what the entirety of her pregnancy would be like, full of crying and vomiting and hunger.

“Little Eve, listen to me,” Gorkan finally said, once her tears finally tapered off. “I have seen the extent of your male’s love for you. I see it every time you two are together. A male who feels as deeply for a female as yours does for you…there is no other option but to be joyful for a child, created by that love.”

“But he didn’t—”

“Give him time,” Gorkan urged. “You say he is stressed and tired. That he is not himself. Give him time to process it and give him time to be the male he needs to be, to do whatever must be done first, before he can assume a new role. The role of father, of sire, of provider.”

Eve looked down at her tea, thinking over his words. What he was saying made sense. Eve had suspected she was pregnant for at least a couple weeks, had slowly come to know the truth. With Khiva, she’d sprung the truth on him. And not at an ideal time in their lives.

“With males, sometimes the role of father is frightening. Sometimes, the knowledge that he will become one is not immediately apparent. But I can assure you, once it does, a male like Khiva will worship the earth you walk on and worry over every little moment until you bring his child into the universe.” Gorkan smiled. “It is not just human males with thick skulls.”

Eve couldn’t help but laugh at that, though it was a watery laugh.

“You know who told me that?” Gorkan asked.

Eve looked down to her lap and then lifted her gaze with a soft smile. “My father?”

Gorkan inclined his head. “Yes. He said it often. Usually in reference to myself.”

Any mention of her father made her feel better. Sometimes, on nights just like these, Gorkan would join her and Khiva for a meal and they would speak of him at length, swapping stories. And it kept her father alive. In memory, in words.

Sometimes, Eve couldn’t help but wonder that her father had led her to Khiva. Because without knowing Khiva, Eve never would’ve plucked up the courage to leave Everton. And if she hadn’t left Everton, she never would’ve known Gorkan the way she did now.

“Everything happens for a reason,” she said softly. “He said those old, cliche words often too.”

Gorkan chortled in the back of his throat and then said, “So you must believe that, Little Eve. Trust in your male. What is faith and love without trust?”

Eve finally took a sip of her steeped tea, feeling the bitterness that Gorkan loved coat her throat.

“Thank you, Gorkan,” she said softly, reaching out to touch his hand. “Talking to you always makes me feel better.”

“I am happy for you,” he said softly. “Your father would be as well.”

Eve bit her lip when it trembled and she inhaled a sharp breath through her nose.

“You will name the child Gorkan though, yes?” he asked next, a mischievous glint in his cerulean eyes.

Eve’s loud chuckle filled the dwelling, so loud she wondered if Khiva could hear it. Wherever he was.