“Who knows? Before Justine, nobody had actually seen the Void open up. It didn’t for the Raiel armada; they forced their way through. But humans were never the first it accepted. Occasionally we have felt other species flourish briefly within. Always, the Void has consumed them.”

“So it has to be aware of the outside universe?” she pondered.

“In some fashion it must be. This is philosophical speculation rather than substantiation. We don’t think it recognizes physical reality, not outside. Perhaps it considers the universe beyond its boundary nothing but a spawning ground for mind, rationality, which is what the nucleus absorbs as the boundary absorbs mass.”

“Edeard and the people of Makkathran say that the Void was created by Firstlives.”

“Yeah,” Clouddancer growled. “Such a thing cannot be natural.”

“So where are they now?”

“Nobody knows. Though you, our friend’s daughter, may be the one who finds out.”

“I don’t know what to do,” she admitted. “Not really. There’s someone who might be able to help, one of ANA’s agents. He’s already helped me once: Oscar Monroe.”

Bradley Johansson sat in front of her, his tongue quivering fast at the center of his mouth cavity. “I know Oscar. I fought with him in the Starflyer War. He is a good man. Trust him. Find him, though your path will not be easy after this.”

“I know. But I’ve made my mind up. I won’t lead Living Dream through the boundary, no matter what.”

“That is the choice we knew you would make, daughter of our friend. Such worthiness is why we came here to know you.”

“Tell her the rest,” Clouddancer said gruffly.

Araminta gave him an alarmed glance. “What? What else is there?”

“There is something out there, something new that emerged into our universe as ANA fell to treachery,” Bradley Johansson said. “Something much worse than Living Dream. It is waiting for you.”

“What?”

“Its full nature remains veiled, for we can sense it only faintly. But what we glimpsed was greatly troubling. Humans have a dark side, as do most living sentients, and this thing, this embodiment of intent, has come directly out of that darkness. It is an evil thing; this we do know.”

“What sort of thing?” she asked fearfully.

“A contraption, a machine whose purpose is cold and malevolent. It cares nothing for the spirit which all life houses, for laughter and song; even tears it derides. And if it desires you, that can be for only one reason.”

To get into the Void,” she realized.

“For what reason we know not, yet we fear the worst,” Bradley Johansson said. “It wishes to meddle with the galaxy’s destiny, to impose itself upon the reality of every star. This cannot come to pass.”

“You must summon that which is most noble from your race, daughter of our friend,” Clouddancer said. “Together you will make your stand against the dread future which this thing craves for us all. It must never reach the Void. The two of them must not become one.”

“How?” she implored. “How in Ozzie’s name do you expect me to do such a thing? This is what the Commonwealth Navy is for. They have incredible weapons; they can stop this creature-thing. I don’t know what it looks like, where it is …”

Bradley Johansson reached out and took Araminta’s hand in his own. “If that is what you believe, if that is truly what must be done, then that is what you must achieve.”

“I thought I was just going to go into hiding while the factions and Living Dream fought it out. That’s what I’d made my mind up to do.”

“Our destiny is never clear. Nonetheless, this is yours.”

“Can’t I just stay here?”

His leathery fingers bent around to stroke the top of her palm. “For as long as you want, our friend’s daughter.”

Araminta nodded forlornly. “Which will be no time at all.”

“You have strength, you have courage, your spirit truly shines out, as did Mellanie’s. Such a beautiful light cannot easily be quenched.”

“Oh, Ozzie!”

“What is it you wish to do?” Clouddancer asked. His tail flicked about restlessly. Outside the tent the Silfen were still, waiting for her answer.

“A proper meal, a decent sleep, and then I’ll be on my way,” she promised them. “I’ll do what I can.”

As one, the Silfen in the tent tipped their heads back and opened their mouths wide. A mellifluent chant arose as those outside took up the call; lyrical and uplifting, it swirled around her, making her smile in acknowledgment. It was their tribute to her, their gratitude. For now she finally realized the Silfen were frightened, scared their wondrous free-roaming life might be brought to an end by the ominous thing human folly had birthed. Yes, I’ll do what I can.

Marius regarded the image of Ranto with something approaching amused contempt. The gangly teenager was suddenly the second most important news item in the Commonwealth; every unisphere show was featuring him. Reporters had arrived in Miledeep Water soon after the faction agents. It hadn’t taken anyone very long to discover that Araminta had stayed at the StarSide Motel. The nervous manager, Ragnar, had come out of hiding as soon as reporters started offering big money for his story, which sadly wasn’t much, mostly how he’d hidden in his kitchen as weapons-enriched agents poured through his precious StarSide Motel, hunting the Second Dreamer.

Ignored by the agents, Marius mentally corrected the story.

But Ranto was the real find as far as the news production teams were concerned. The last person in Miledeep Water to see and speak to the Second Dreamer herself.

“She was really pretty,” he was saying gormlessly as he stood in front of the StarSide reception, surrounded by over a dozen reporters. “Not what I was expecting. I’d already met her once before, that afternoon. She was sweet, you know? Gave a good tip when I delivered her food.”

“Did she say where she was going?” a reporter asked.

“Naah, she just bought my bike and headed off to the Silfen path. Imagine that. The Second Dreamer is riding my old bike between worlds.”

“And still our race wonders why we wish to accelerate our evolution,” Ilanthe observed.

Marius didn’t respond. He remained annoyed at the way he’d been punished over Chatfield. But now it looked as though his climb back to grace had begun. Tellingly, it was Ilanthe herself who’d called him as he was checking operations on Fanallisto. Semisentient scruitineers had been monitoring the Delivery Man since his miserable, pleading call to Marius. Soon after that, the Delivery Man had been contacted by another survivor of the Conservative Faction, using an encrypted call that blocked any tracking. The scruitineers had used the spaceport’s civic sensors to observe him taking a capsule out to Lady Rasfay. Then the yacht launched with the owner’s authorization, which was interesting given that he’d been left lying naked and unconscious alongside his young Firstlife mistress on the landing pad.

Ilanthe had been curious to know where the Delivery Man was heading and who he was meeting up with. Not anxious-there was no urgency in her call-but given that Araminta had unexpectedly fooled everyone yet again by somehow getting off Chobamba, monitoring the remaining Conservatives was prudent.

Marius knew where the Delivery Man had to be going. If there was anything left on Fanallisto, it was small-time, whereas the ultradrive starship was still waiting at Purlap spaceport. Marius had flown there right away.

And he’d been proved right. His own starship had detected the Lady Rasfay approaching Purlap, and he’d called Ilanthe immediately. Confirming his passage to redemption, she responded in person rather than through Valean or Neskia.

“Do you want me to exterminate him?” Marius asked. His stealthed starship was holding altitude a hundred kilometers directly above Purlap spaceport. It wasn’t a particularly risky position; there were no more commercial flights in or out. Lady Rasfay was rather conspicuous simply by flying in.