{Enki}

“Do you think I’ll ever get to meet one?”

“John, why in the worlds would you ever want to meet a Primary?” Caedes kept his eyes on the projected screens.

He worked in “the room” day in and day out. What passed for Tritan computers and tablets consumed the surfaces of a weird pocket closet in Tameka’s bungalow. The gruff Icarus always debriefed John in this regularly scanned room. No spy tech here. Tumu’s detectors made sure of that.

“Well, you know? The honor and all. Meeting a god.” John found the stratification of Tritan society fascinating. But the Primaries interested him the most. Only four of them remained since one died in 2006, around the same time the Progeny visited Enki.

While anyone of any race could perform enough good deeds to earn Eminent stature, similar to a Saint, only Gargantuan Tritans held the title of Primary. They represented the last vestiges of the oldest evolution of Tritan. Very rare. Very protected.

Which also made John extremely curious about Tumu because technically—

“Uncle Caeda?” Pax called from the other side of the closed door.

Caedes hopped up and headed over. No sigh of irritation. No grump or grumble over the interruption. Nope. That man’s prickly exterior was all show.

“Hey, kiddo, do you need anything?”

“Can I play?” The boy pointed under the largest desk.

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No hesitation. “Of course. Your mom will be home soon, and then you can help us cook dinner tonight.”

Pax beamed up at the bald Icarus with teeth that shined like the man’s head. Then he burrowed under the desk and played caveman. Caedes even let him color cave paintings on the wall.

John pointed to one with hieroglyphs. “Hey, that’s really amazing, Pax.” Like really amazing. How could he know the story of Seshat? And accurately depict the Egyptian god’s life? Is this what educated children looked like when raised in a Dyson’s sphere?

Caedes caught John’s eye as they both observed the two-year-old. He shook his head. Agendas currently too full. Don’t look too hard at the super smart toddler.

Got it.

Glancing back at the screen, John pointed to a new message. “It’s from Kyle.”

The Icarus stared at it a moment, and then the grumbling started. “It’s an update on that woman he found yesterday. He lost her.”

“Caedes, she broke her cuffs—”

“I know. I know. No one is capable of that. He also wants some help to research nacre memory loss. Can you and Tameka hit that up in the archives?”

“I’ll add it to my to do list.” John rubbed the thigh of his bad leg, agitated.

Caedes harrumphed and added, “The sh—stuff keeps piling up, doesn’t it?” The soldier glanced briefly at Pax. “So there’s no history of the lock’s making?”

Code. They spoke in code even around Pax to prevent exposing him to a stressful childhood. No cussing allowed either. Lock meant Gait. “No. Missing or doesn’t exist. The temple is the best bet.” Temple meant Pantheon.

“We’ve gone two years without accidentally stumbling onto the route there. This maze will swallow us.”

They ran across so many oceans and halls and colonies like this one. A vast emptiness. They kept a dossier of every Tritan they met. So far, they only accounted for fifteen. Not counting the Primaries, which required a special audience request to see them. Why was this colossal sphere so empty and so hard to traverse?

John peered at Pax. “Do you think he’ll let her go home?”

“Not a chance. She’s only going as a formality. To exhaust all the avenues before she…” Burned everything down.

John knew few certainties in this life. Intelligent life existed outside humans of Earth. Miracles came in the guise of your loved ones.

And there was no way in the Vast Collective that Tameka Phillips would stay a prisoner for long.