Dawn rose crisp and clear outside the city of glass, the Crystal City, the crashed space station, the geostationary anchor for the Central Tower. Jazzy to her close friends, or Ma’am Camps to most all others that knew her, and The Wayfinder to those that didn’t know her, sat astride a gleaming clockwork horse.

“This horse has been upgraded. It has a perpetual nuclear cell engine. It will never be without power, and it is coded to only answer to you,” the green droid said. He patted the horse’s neck fondly like a person would. “It will serve you well. It is very strong.”

The woman that sat astride the horse was much older than the Jazzy that had entered the docking port yesterday. Her hair was grey, and her face had the lines of age of an older woman that was healthy and vigorous. Her robes were the same robes, but sleek metal weave saddlebags were slung over her mount, and they were filled with the valuable technologies of a space docking port.

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“I want to thank you for giving me my mind back. And the chance to see your city. It still seems so magical to me inside there…”

“You are welcome. We are one now, Zern and me. We will strive, with help from Darius and his friends, to reorder things. Re-preserve. Possibly we will have to go back into the stored individual existences…”

“Well, thank you again. I will ride south, back to the Western City. Maybe I will catch up to the princess and the others.”

“And we, my brother and I, would like to wish you good luck…”

“Good luck!” Nova said. The secretary bird was standing in the ostrich’s shadow. It raised a slender arm and waved. A battered drone, silver, not much larger than a basketball, hovered with them, a black and white number “zero” painted on its side.