Chapter Text
Sunlight has a letter every day from Harry and he always tells her he loves her (she is still too young to be surprised at the unusual reliability of the mail, nor to notice the changes in handwriting style). Daddy loves her and so does Kantele. Mommy loves her, even though she forgot Sunlight's favourite flavour of yoghurt yesterday.
The world seems a little odd now and then, but by and large it's also starting to feel a little safer.
Kantele struggles with fantasy. He has always loved the children of his hosts, never believed that offspring of his own would be possible. Egeria's name sings to him and he writes endless songs in her praise. He tries not to pressurise Sam, but every time he looks at her...
She knows. Kantele has never asked her, but he wants her to offer herself as host to Egeria. It ought to be so simple a thing. Tok'ra meets Tok'ra; everyone loves everyone; happiness all round. But she has been a host before and it's not something she wants to try again.
Being a Tok'ra is like taking on a blind date with no chance of backing out if you don't like the look of your partner. Jack and Kantele were lucky.
Cassandra shares a room with her sister. They tell everyone they're twins and that her adoptive mother died recently and so she came here. It's an easy tale to tell - after all that part of it is true. She uses the name Desdemona now, and is surprised that no one has asked her why.
She's increasingly bothered by bad dreams. Something is wrong with Harry. Something is very wrong...
Maybourne dreams, but tonight his dreams are all nightmares. The man in the cell to his right killed his wife and relives it in horrific detail. The prisoner to his left claims to be innocent, but Maybourne knows just how he dissected the body. The next man along is due to die in a month, but he has committed no crime
Images and memories assault him relentlessly and he can't keep them out. The fever burns and chills him alternately. He begs them to contact Doctor Fraiser, but they tell him it's just flu and nothing to worry about. He knows better. Soon, it will get worse. The voices in his mind will take over and he will die.
Life's final bitter irony: the same blood that saved his life will kill him. Nirrti's virus still lurks in Cassandra's blood. Engineered to pass down the generations and lie dormant until puberty, it is now in Maybourne's veins - and he is a long way past sixteen.