"Pulse two hundred and twenty-seven," Cenz called.

There was a brief flash of light in the infrared as the drilling lasers of the drones fired again, multiple brief beams in rapid succession.

Against any normal substance, each pulse would flash-heat the surface to the boiling point, causing it to rapidly expand - blasting away pieces of itself. Each pulse should burrow deeper, and by now they should be tens of meters deep.

"Pulse 227 concluded," Cenz said.

"Depth achieved?" Urle asked.

Cenz studied the data for a moment. The flash-melted debris had to disperse slightly before they could measure.

"Two centimeters," Cenz replied.

Urle nearly voiced his frustration, but kept it in. "Resume firing."

The stone of the temple was insanely resilient. No mundane material should be able to take these lasers this easily, not without active cooling or self-repair.

It was as if the energy of each laser was being bled away more rapidly than the stone of the temple could possibly be moving it.

From their scans of collected pieces, it was somewhat reminiscent of cratonic rock, just denser. But even cratonic rock with its tenkionic properties couldn't withstand this many lasers with so little damage.

"Keep going," Urle said.

The drones were overheating; they could only shed so much waste heat so quickly, and were not meant to fire at this pace.

"Pulse 228," Cenz called.

Shomari Eboh raised his head. "We are getting a signal! It's Captain Brooks."

"Craton, this is Brooks. Can you hear me?"

Cheers went up from the bridge, and Urle felt a flood of relief. "We read you Captain, loud and clear. What's your situation?"

"Ah, finally. The doors inside the temple have closed on us, we think we triggered some kind of security protocol. But we've found a way to interface with the technology in here - we think we can get it open with some time."

As relieved as Urle was to hear this, he still didn't know how much time Brooks had to work with - or if Brooks might know.

"We still can't get through to the first team," Urle said. "We're trying to drill through the door to get a line in, but it's going slow."

"Keep going with the lasers, but don't use anything heavier," Brooks said. "I don't want to damage the temple. We'll work both sides. The team will have their own equipment, they may be trying to drill through their end, too."

Urle decided to take a gamble. "Do you think you can hold out for seven hours?" he asked.

It contained elements of a code phrase that Brooks would recognize. He could give his own coded response.

"We can last at least eight or nine hours," Brooks replied.

Urle was almost surprised; Brooks was really telling him that things were under control, there was no danger.

Perhaps he was just feeling nerves.

"I can't leave this on," Brooks said. "I'll contact you again when I can."

"All right," Urle replied. "We'll continue to work from this end."

The connection ended.

"Can we find where the signal came from?" Urle asked.

"No, sir," Cenz replied. "There is no clear emitter or signal beam. We simply . . . received it."

"Great," Urle said. He tapped into another line. "Jaya, did you hear all that?"

She had been listening in to the call from her office. She should be sleeping now, but Urle had woken her when the door had shut. He wanted her expertise.

"Yes," she replied.

"What do you make of it?"

"Something is wrong," she said simply. "I don't trust it."

Urle checked the logs and saw that Brooks had used every appropriate clearance code, the right encryption, everything looked just perfect.

"I agree," he told her. "Something felt off. It was too easy."

"I suggest you see if you can get some stronger drills out there," Jaya said. "Or even consider using the coilguns."

"No," Urle said. "Not yet. The coilguns are a last resort - we don't know what will happen if we punch a hole with that much force into this place. If it started to collapse . . ."

With the size and mass of the station, it would be essentially an entire planet forming, in real time. All it would take would be a breakdown of whatever force held it in its current shape.

"And besides," he added. "The Captain did say not to use anything higher than the lasers. On the chance that was really him talking to us, I don't want to just disregard his orders."

"Very well," Jaya said. "Let's shelve the thought - for now. I will remain in my office unless you wish me to come to the command center."

"Stay for now. I'll call you if I need you," Urle told her.

Urle knew that if Jaya's shift in command came up, she might make that call to use the coilguns.

His time was limited.

*******

Brooks woke up in a bright room.

No, not a room, he realized. There were no walls; or at least the lighting was such that he could see no shadows, no corners. Yet he was laying on something, even if he could not see it.

Materials with strange visual properties, he thought. Normally he'd think it a cheap trick to try and disorient him, but this felt like . . .

Something far more than a trick.

He wasn't alone here. There was something here, he just could not see it.

"I am Captain-Mayor Ian Brooks," he said, scanning slowly, trying to find some way to gain his bearings. "Please introduce yourself. I am not your enemy."

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

I know who you are, he thought.

He blinked, trying to parse that. He'd just had a thought - but not his own thought. It was his own mind's voice-

Do not be alarmed, he thought.

-but even overriding his own thoughts.

Ah, he thought. I understand now.

Yes, he thought. You are beginning to think, and that is the state most useful right now.

His own thoughts jumbled with the outside thoughts. He felt a surge of nausea.

"Wait, wait!" he called, holding up a hand.

He tried to calm his mind, and no more voices intruded.

"I'm going to talk out loud," he said. "Then I'll listen. All right?"

That will suffice, he thought.

Slowly, Brooks got to his feet. He still could not differentiate the floor or walls from each other and it interfered with his balance.

"Great," he said. "So . . . who are you? If you can read my mind, you can see that I'm not your enemy. Or else I don't think we'd be talking so pleasantly."

Enemy? he thought, puzzled. I am not your enemy, Ian. I am your own thoughts, created by the Present Mind of the Enabling.

"What? Present Mind? Are you the leader of this place?"

I am the Present Mind of the Enabling, he found himself thinking, feelings of certainty, confidence, and yet some confusion, flooding through him.

"S-so," he said, finding himself staggered by the intrusive thoughts and feelings. "My question doesn't make sense to you. You aren't an individual being who is present in the temple, you are the temple. Like an artificial intelligence. I understand."

Yes, I have it right, he thought. He nearly panicked at that.

"You are not me!" he called out, looking up. It just seemed the natural direction to look.

"Perhaps it would be easier this way."

He turned, and nearly collapsed as he looked at his sister.

She was not pale in the same way she had been when he'd last seen her. She had been a cold body next to him then, another person who had fallen asleep and never awakened in the Antarctic night after the Ring Collapse.

She appeared now in the prime of her health, her face neutral, just watching him calmly. She wore the dress that she had worn to the last happy Sundown Festival they had known. His last and most enduring happy memory of her.

"Don't take that shape!" he barked. She was not real, she couldn't be real. There was no bringing back those long-dead. This was just an image from his mind, how he imagined she would look. Forever a child, because he could not imagine who she might have become, and to even try would be too painful.

The image of his sister disappeared, instantly becoming that of his father.

"Perhaps this will be more pleasant," he suggested.

He was older than his own father, he realized. He had known that fact, but he had never really imagined it; that he might appear more mature, more knowledgeable than his own father who, like his sister, was eternally frozen in his mind, as a giant in body and wisdom.

"No," he croaked. "And not my mother. Take someone from later in my life."

Another person stood before him, just appearing there.

She was a small blonde. Her features were not the most beautiful, but her presence was captivating.

"This form brings you distress as well, but it will serve for now. You are still functional."

Brooks fought to keep his mind clear as his emotions threatened to overrun him. He locked onto his mental discipline, keeping his mind focused only on the moment.

"Do you mean to harm us?" he asked.

"No," she said. "I do have to study you, as you study me. You are new and do not belong here."

"If you wish us to leave, we'll leave."

"Unnecessary. Outside of the temple I cannot study you. I am blind to what is beyond, I only know what enters."

Well, that could be useful.

"If you wish to destroy me, knowing such a detail will make no difference. You cannot hurt me. You have no reason to hurt me."

"You are keeping me prisoner," he said.

"You may leave at any time."

He was suddenly back in the strange control room.

"Ach, Brooks, man, are ye all right?" Fergus asked him.

Brooks raised himself up and looked around, expecting to see them all standing and observing.

But no one else was up yet.

The Present Mind did not answer him when he called out to it in his head, and he glanced at the others, who were just stirring, save for Fromm, who was still.

His system detected breathing and no obvious injuries on anyone, so he glanced around.

"Anyone experience anything strange?" he asked.

"Strange? How do you mean?" Nadian asked, sitting up.

If anyone else had experienced the Present Mind, they did not say.

He did not know if that meant he was unique or if they were just hiding it. He considered; most times he'd share such a thing immediately. But right now, he was not feeling overly trustful of Nadian or his group.

He would hold onto it for now.

"How long have we been out?" he asked.

"Mere moments," Kell said.

His system supplied; four minutes.

"What happened?"

"The door closed and something occurred; its effects were too strong for you and you fell unconscious," Kell said.

Which was entirely useless, yet probably all he knew as well. Brooks got up, saw that Nadian was doing the same.

"Kat, are you all right?" Nade asked the woman.

"I'm fine," she said, rubbing her face. "I just don't know what happened."

"We can start a club," Nadian muttered, looking around. His eyes settled on Brooks. "You seen anything like this in your experience with this stuff?"

"No," Brooks said, studying the walls. They looked different. "Kell, why are the walls changed?"

"They are awaiting instruction," Kell said, dismissively, staring at the controls.

"Can you use those?" Brooks asked, nodding to the control panel he observed.

"Perhaps," Kell replied.

"All right. Well, if you figure them out, let me know. And if any of us start to get near them again - tell us."

Kell frowned slightly, but inclined his head in a slight nod.

Brooks approached the wall, reaching out to touch it. At his touch a circular ring grew outward - showing space beyond.

"We're outside the temple," he said, drawing his finger back. The circular view stopped growing.

Nadian came up closer. "Touch-sensitive?"

"Looks that way," Brooks replied.

They both ran their hands along the wall, growing out the screen until it covered most areas they could reach. If it was meant that all areas could become potential screens, he thought, as he looked at the ceiling, the creators of this place must have been far taller than a human. The room was taller than it was wide, almost four meters high.

"These stars aren't right," Nadian said.

"What?" Kat asked.

"Look," the man replied, gesturing. "We can see all directions, but there's no galactic core. There are stars, but they're evenly distributed across space. This is . . . a projection. And a wrong one."

Brooks studied the sky with his sensors, but everything did look wrong.

"The Cosmic Background Radiation is stronger than it should be," he said. "This is a simulation of the past."

"The past?" Fergus repeated. "Ah, this is a time capsule! It's a way that the ancients used to be able to view the past-"

"Things don't work like that," Nadian insisted. "You can't time travel. Or hell, there's a lot of mistakes I'd fix."

Fergus snorted. "Of course yer thinking so petty-"

"No more arguing!" Brooks snapped, his voice his most hard and commanding. "We work together or we die."

Everyone else looked at him with surprise.

Fromm suddenly stood up. "What's going on?" he asked blearily. He must have still been unconscious, roused by Brooks's yelling.

"We're trying to figure out when and where we are," Brooks told him.

"When?" Fromm asked. No one answered him.

"If this is a simulation, then we probably haven't even moved," Nadian said. "This is just supposed to make us think we have."

"No," Brooks said, studying his HUD carefully. "I think we are moving. I am receiving signals that could only be from the Craton." He pointed. "From that way. It makes sense; some of her EM band is leaking through the temple."

"Can you talk to them?" Kat asked.

"No. It's too distorted - and it's growing weaker as well as red shifting." He swallowed. "In other words we're moving away from it, or they're moving away from us. I do not believe the Craton would leave us - so it is likely we who are moving."

"Why isn't the Craton chasing?" Fergus asked. "Surely they see us."

"Maybe they can't," Nadian replied. He glanced at the others. "I think we're on our own."