Solomon read Speck’s communique a third time and rubbed his temples. Hos own message was still an hour or more from reaching its target. Standing in his apartment, looking at Albion’s strong outer hull through his window, he felt more alone than he had in all his years away.

“Be brave, children,” he whispered to the void.

His door chime hummed.

“Enter.”

He heard the familiar, careful footsteps of his protégé.

“The teams have gone completely dark,” Sensus said.

“And the attack groups?”

“Everyone but Patal has reported in.”

“I don’t know Patal.”

“He’s a good captain. Favorable towards Harbingers.”

Solomon turned his head and gave Sensus a nod. “I have a meeting with Harbinger Command in forty minutes. After that I’ll be with the Quorum until they decide they’re done with me. I’d like for us to talk until then.”

“Of course. I’ve been waiting for a chance.”

“I know. Everyone wants to know where I’ve been and what I’ve been up to. And I want to know what’s happened here while I was away. Can you indulge me, Sensus? For half an hour?”

“It would be my pleasure, Sir.”

And Solomon was quiet, the questions he wanted to ask suddenly absent, or crammed together between his teeth.

“It was quiet at first,” Sensus said, not waiting. I think that helped the general opinion of you. Had you departed during a time of conflict, it may have been worse. But about a year later we had our first skirmish with the kzin. I remembered the way you’d described them; that some mad scientist had stitched the heads of lions onto the bodies of elephants and taught them to stand upright, then pissed them off and gave an FTL capable fleet and a bunch of guns. You forgot to mention that they’re fast and can climb.”

Solomon chuckled. He remembered that briefing too. “I mentioned that they’re part cat.”

“Yeah, but I’d never seen an elephant run or climb.”

“It doesn’t seem right that they could be so agile.”

“No. It doesn’t.”

They both chuckled, more out pf desire for a pleasant moment than any actual amusement. Then Sensus went on.

“The military insisted on having jurisdiction. The attack fleet held them off, but we found ourselves in a ground war when the kzin assaulted a temporary listening post we’d installed on a large asteroid near Keplar 22.”

“A or B?”

“A. We stayed well and clear of B.”

Solomon nodded. “Is that when they came running to Command for help?”

Sensus smiled. “We sent the kzin packing.”

Solomon’s next chuckle was genuine. “And then Quorum come running to you every time an exo species was unfriendly.”

Sensus left the window and went to the nearest bar. He came back with two glasses of cold seltzer. “For a while. Then the pendulum swung back the other way and we lost more than half our mortal forces in a Surge wave. We purged the affected systems, and then the Quorum gave us unprecedented authority over military matters. I’d never seen the general population more split over anything.”

“How were they split, exactly?”

“Some welcomed our protection, others we afraid we were going to take stage a military coup and turn Albion into a despotic fortress.”

“If only we could catch the pendulum in the middle and hold it still.”

“I tried to hold it as high in the air as I could.”

Solomon sipped his seltzer. “Now why would you do a crazy thing like that?”

“With you gone, I found myself dealing with humans more than I ever expected to. At first, I found them annoying, but after the Surge conflict I pitied them. Death is not some remote possibility for them, but a constant threat. If they don’t eat, they starve. If they’re in deep water, they drown. If they’re too cold, they freeze. And once they’re gone, they’re gone. So, I pushed for as much Harbinger involvement in military affairs as possible, and though I’m only a Captain, people listened to me. I think they heard your voice when I spoke. So, we were a bulwark for all of Albion, and in time the public accepted us. Some were even grateful, and a few, like Patal, became reverent.”

“I see.” Solomon welcomed the quiet moment that followed. He had worried awfully about Sensus, and for the first few years struggled to maintain the confidence he knew he should have in the man. Now he had an image of him that was based on fact and not anxiety, and the image made him proud. He pictured a young Sensus coming into his own, and showing the humans that a Harbinger’s heart was filled with compassion, not war mongering or pride.

“And from then it’s been a constant teetering,” Sensus continued. “Exos came flocking to us after we fended off the Surge, and we quickly filled our empty decks. Since then, Albion has thrived. But the Quorum is not up to the task of governing a fully populated generation ship. Especially not one of this size.”

“No, they’re not. Nor are they prepared to deal with what’s to come. More is needed than a bolstering of the guard, Sensus.”

“What do you mean?”

“Albion is unique in ways we never knew. I peered into the Verge hoping to learn what lie ahead, but the most profound thing I saw was what I’d left behind.”

And with that partial warning he left Sensus, and an open invitation to use his apartment.

“It’s far more comfortable than that squalid cabin.”

And Sensus surprised him when he accepted and kicked off his boots to sprawl on one of the couches with a book.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

Rest before labor, Solomon thought as he left his friend. For me, the two will be one.

The section chiefs all welcomed him, some rather coldly. There was an awkward moment while some spread out their data devices and others simply waited, then Solomon spoke.

“I’ll get straight to it. You want to know clearly why I left, and what I learned while I was away. Eno is the key to everything, and while I did not want to admit that, or even fully understand what that meant, I knew it deep down. I admit I am still unclear about a lot of the details, but what I learned while studying the verge is that Eno was made beyond that barrier. Her programming, her heuristic learning systems, her clearly displayed capacity for emotion, her limitless power reserves and transcendent computational abilities… to put it simply, she is a radiant machine, powered by the same mystical energies that bring us back from death.”

He had expected anything but silence. “I imagine some of you would like to see evidence.”

“There is none!” Said Black Fountain, one of the few exo Harbingers. He was vid’redic; seven feet tall with a wiry, four-armed torso and three serpentine heads held up by a powerful pair of digitigrade legs. The vid’reda walked naked among their own and wore monastic robes when in the company of other species. Black Fountain was too bold a man for robes, so he wore his full battle dress at all times, foregoing only his trio of skullforts so that his fearsome heads could be recognized. Solomon never enjoyed Black Fountain’s company, but he was glad to have him in the ranks. A blunt voice streamlined meetings, and in battle, the man caused as much destruction as the cosmic phenomena he was named after.

“I’m impressed, Fountain,” Solomon said, folding his hands and narrowing his eyes. “You must share how you came to this conclusion so quickly.”

Fountain’s eating head snapped its jaws while his venomous hunting head quietly hissed. In the middle, his speaking head sneered. “You make an impossible claim. What lies beyond the Verge lies beyond the Verge. Nothing but the Archeus Knights have ever come through.”

“And before they did,” Solomon said, “had anything?”

There was the murmur he was waiting for. A few dared to snicker at Black Fountain as well. All three heads glared at Solomon.

Maya of the Cedars spoke next. As he remembered, her voice was calm, with a hint of a storm behind it.

“I think it will be more productive if you focus on what you believe Eno is the key to for now.”

“Thank you, Maya. Let’s just reason on what we have; an intelligent machine, imbued with radiance, made on the other side with an inexplicably advanced craft capable of sustaining an entire population indefinitely built around it. Twice now the powerful, malevolent entities across the Verge have found a way through and sent dreadful creatures to attack us with no provocation and no response to our attempts at communication. If Eno is what I believe she is, then we have everything we need to drive those beasts back for good, or perhaps learn their purpose and how we can speak with them.”

Twelve chiefs looked at Solomon, and only the feeding head of Black Fountain had an expression Solomon could read, as it often wore an oafish grin.

“Thirteen years,” said Maya of the Cedars. “That’s a long time to come up with something this underwhelming.”

“A long time to…” Solomon felt his anger brewing. “Have any of you ever solved a cosmic mystery before? You don’t just set up shop and get to work, with all your data set up neatly on a desk for you while an adjutant brings you coffee. I travelled to dark and ruined worlds, braved ship breaking anomalies, won the trust of exos that hate all humanoids, learned the cures for loathsome plagues and deciphered ancient documents that took months or even years to find. I liberated the Shadow Children, heard the songs of Haleon’s daughters, hunted with the Silent Wanderers. In Imogen’s name I navigated the Pillars of Aeon and communed with the bones of Hod!”

There was another awkward moment during which a few of the chiefs squirmed.

“I’m sorry, Sol,” said Maya. “I didn’t mean to…”

He’d had enough. “I did not come back so you slack-jawed buffoons could patronize me!”

Unbidden, a wind whirled around his ankles and lifted him off the floor. His radiance spewed orange and wrathful from his eyes and wrapped around him with scorching filaments as his voice boomed in quadruplicate.

“You have done nothing, and nothing is what you have earned. You will stand aside and those with the will to act will rise and you will obey their commands.”

He lifted his head to the high ceiling of their conference hall and raised his arms.

“Eno! Aged mother, speak to them. If you love them then speak!”

He lowered himself to the ground and calmed his light, and slowly a glowing shape took form. Pythagorean runes scrawled in the air what Solomon had labored to learn, and then the room was silent.

“You’ve been training, at least,” said Maya.

“Eno is shackled,” was all he could say. He thought of Revol then, and the young man’s fixation on the old machine. Seven thousand years.

“I know some of those shapes,” said a chief Solomon didn’t recognize. “They correspond with the vibrational patterns recorded at certain…”

“They spoke of the Wheel of Destiny,” said Solomon.

The chief he didn’t know paused, then continued. “Those were the coordinates for Bindhu Prime. The Temple of Fiends.”

“Solomon, you were just there,” said Maya of the Cedars.

Solomon sighed and sat down, somewhat regretting his dramatic display. “I apologize for losing control. But please, you’ve got to understand there is no time for stupidity and posturing. Haleon’s forces have breached the Verge and his son is leading him. The galaxy was brought to its knees when these beasts attacked before. Entire arms remain desolate and uninhabited. Remember how it was before? The Milky Way was teeming with sentient life. Now it’s a desert. Albion roves about searching for survivors while the enemy has begun a second invasion. Don’t waste time with your egos. Listen to me. I am one of the oldest of our order, raised by Imogen’s own hand. Trust me. Respect me. And I beg you, listen to me.”

Black Fountain stood. Around his imposing form glowed a purple aura, which cast a red gleam on his blue armor. “I’ll trust you, Solomon.”

Solomon sighed. “Thank you, Fountain.”

Maya leaned forward. “I am willing to hear you out, operating under the assumption everything you say is true. I ask this of you in return; that when it comes time to make decisions and commit resources, you respect us, and show us patience. You call us lazy, but we’ve been toiling to keep our peoples united while you’ve been out adventuring and speaking with legends.”

“Very well, Maya.”

Yonto, an older Harbinger than even Solomon, leaned forward. “I don’t really care about Eno or Hod or any of that hocus pocus. I want to know why the kzin faked a Surge assault to drive a dying race off their worthless homeworld. Have you heard anything from Catalyst yet?”

“No. But I know the answer to your question.” All eyes were on Solomon. “They’re searching for the Wheel of Destiny.”

Yonto nodded. “Okay. And what’s that?”

“A region of space that contains relics of immense power. Bindhu Prime is one such relic.”

The chiefs mulled over his words for a few minutes. Some leaned toward each other and whispered, others tapped on the screens of their computers. Black Fountain looked Solomon in the eyes and smiled under three ferocious pairs of eyes.

Yonto spoke for the chiefs. “Then we need to prevent the rest of them from falling into enemy hands.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” said Solomon.

“Be patient with us, Sol,” said Yonto. “You left without saying goodbye. You can’t expect us to just drop everything and do what you suggest.”

Solomon nodded, then leaned forward on the table. “Yonto, I have faith in everyone here. You’re all accomplished battle commanders. But your skill and experience won’t save anyone if my warnings aren’t taken seriously. I wish I could have left on peaceful terms and returned in kind. But these aren’t peaceful times. Can we not work together?”

“We will, Sol,” said Yontu, and the meeting was adjourned.

He felt positively drained after the endless droning of the Quorum, so he went directly to his apartment and drew a bath. The ice-cold water stimulated his corporeal nerves, stirring his radiance to warm him against the cold and he felt a satisfying release of pressure. He drained the bath, wrapped a towel around his waist and drank a martini with the lights dimmed. After an hour of such solitude, he turned to his door. The distortion grew until the Child’s thin teeth reflected the starlight pouring in through the windows.

It is done.

“Thank you.”

The Child left, and, reassured by the news it delivered, Solomon went to bed.