“The Hands are all some kind of cosmic being. They’re all connected but separate. So, Vex has a shared conscience that he shares with all of the other Hands, but he also has his own mind. One of his kind is on every single planet that they know about. They’re basically trying to have a hand, no pun intended, in the entire universe.”

“So, they’re basically gods in the sense that they can determine what happens on planets? Is that why everything went to shit on Earth?”

“Yes and no.” I shrug, trusting that everything Vex told me was true. “Vex said there was no Hand on Earth. One had been assigned to us, but his shared consciousness went dark a few hundred years ago. He said they came as soon as they could but that other species took precedence. When they got to us, we were already on a path to destruction, so they let it play out while they figured out what to do with us.”

“So they let people die?” Deja asks.

The rolling in my stomach returns with a vengeance because I know how this next part is going to make the Hands seem, and I know how Deja is going to react to it. I walked out of the room when Vex told me, but he had offered me full transparency knowing I would offer it to everyone here.

“They had nothing to do with the natural disasters.” I try to choose my words carefully, not wanting Deja to hate the doctor like I did for a while. “The collective mind’s majority decided to eradicate the part of our population that they had no use for.” I pause and then make it as clear as I can. “The Hands chose to kill all the men because there was no use for them on any other planet or in their own studies.”

“What the fuck?” Deja launches from the bed, her hands going to the back of her head. She paces to the front door of the workshop before turning back to me, eyes wide and a look of mild anger, surprise, and sorrow marring her features. “What the fuck, Nia?”

“There are apparently other planets that have had difficulties in their population skewing male,” I answer, knowing it’s not the answer that’s going to make everything okay for Deja. It doesn’t make any of it right for me either, but it’s an answer. A really shitty, really awful answer. “Human wombs are compatible with a plethora of alien species.”

“Nia,” Deja says my name with a shake of her head.

“I’m not fucking condoning it!” I shoot to my feet, feeling a need to defend myself. “I am telling you what I know. I thought you’d want to know. Would you have preferred I just say nothing and for you to find out later? If Vex has his way, he’ll be on this planet with us as soon as he can convince the collective mind of his plan.”

“He killed billions of people!” Deja throws her hands up as though it’s not the same thing I thought.

“He was against the idea. They had the resources to find humans new homes on other planets where they harbor all kinds of species, but it was more expensive and time-intensive. Humans are seen as a primitive species. We’re being sent to other primitive planets because they don’t trust us in the futuristic places.”

“They sent us here where I have to pee in a wooden outhouse because we’re primitive creatures?” Deja’s outrage has shifted to something much less important, but I’ll take her being outraged at the Hands over being outraged at me. “There’s no television, or wine, or a fucking shower!” She’s pacing again, but the smile that tugs at my lips can’t be helped. This is how I remember Deja. Slightly outraged at the silliest of things and always searching for the best even if the situation had no good sides. “I don’t even have pants, Nia! I’m having to learn how to make them myself now that we have more supplies, and you don’t even want to see the first attempt!”

“Oh, I definitely want to see them now,” I tell her, hoping the sadness and the anger are done with, at least for now. I need some normal and some happiness before I’m reminded of just how little there is of it left in the world.

Deja runs over to a wardrobe set in the corner of the small space. Her shoulders are shaking with a laugh that she’s trying and mostly failing at hiding. “I’m still pissed, but these pants are so bad that I have to show you before we keep talking about how much I hate the Hands.”

“Or we could just talk about your awful sewing skills for the rest of the day,” I offer, knowing that we’re going to spend more than a few minutes on the pants.

I’m proved right when she throws them at me, hitting me in the face with a few scraps of fabric. I hold them up, a gasp of horror leaving my mouth when I see just how badly Deja butchered the fabric. I put my hand in the pants, or really, shorts, and let out a long belly laugh when I can’t get my arm all the way through. She’s sewn the leg hole closed.

“Shut up!” Deja squeals as she walks over and takes the pants from me. She holds them up to her waist, and I laugh again at the mismatched lengths of the sides, the way one of the legs narrows while the other widens. It’s bad.

“It could be worse,” I offer in support of my friend. If she asks me how they could be worse I wouldn’t be able to think of anything. “Beats being naked from the waist down, I’m sure.”

“Yeah.” Deja lifts her tunic and shows off another pair of terribly sewn shorts that are so short they’re basically just underwear. “I’ve been making them short so I don’t sweat to death, but also, the stitching is shit, and I’ll have to redo them later. I’ve busted at least a few seams every time I wear a pair. Considering I have two, and one of them is these.” She holds up the monstrosity before throwing it back into the wardrobe. “I’ll make more, and one day, I might even be good at it. I think some of the other women have had an easier time with it.”

“I guess I’ll have to try my hand at it too.” I pull at the hem of my tunic that hugs over my hips and down around my thighs. Unlike Deja, I don’t have anything underneath, and now I am very self-conscious about that fact, especially since there’s no one on this planet who wants me dressed sexily in their tunic.

“What’s wrong?” Deja asks, somehow knowing my thoughts have turned darker.

“Nothing,” I say, brushing away her concern.

She has so much more to worry about here without me adding on my own personal stuff. One day, after I get it all figured out in my head, I’ll talk to her about it. Maybe when we can get Simone back here with us, so I don’t have to go into my feelings twice.

“I’ll let you get away with that for now because you’ve obviously been through some shit, but you have to talk to someone eventually.”

“Yeah, yeah, you sound like my therapist,” I push at her shoulder.

“Speaking of your therapist,” Deja’s outrage comes back in full force because my therapist was a man, and all men are dead. Because, of course, that’s how Deja’s mind is working right now. “I hate the Hands. I thought they were growing on me because they sent me here, and I met Dath, and I’m happy, but now I hate them. How do they kill billions of people and not care?”

“A lot of them did care. That’s what I’m saying.” I rub at my temples, trying to figure out how to make it make sense. Otherwise, she’ll start badmouthing Vex to everyone, and that won’t help his cause of trying to be the Hand responsible for this planet.

“So, the doctor wanted to stop them from murdering billions of people, but he still works for them and still does what they tell him.” Deja shakes her head, her hands on her hips. “He and so many of the others told us all that they knew nothing about these creatures, knew nothing about how they would react to humans.”

“It’s true,” I say, interrupting her before she can say more. “The Hand in charge of this planet has gone dark for years now, kind of like the one on Earth. She’s still here, though. The doctor has contacted her outside of the collective mind. He thinks she’s found a way to sever the tie that connects them to the shared consciousness, and he’s willing to as well when he gets promoted to taking her position.”