36.

Anlyn stepped over the wooden bridge, noting with horror the small flecks of charred ash her pyrotechnic display had created in the ancient wood.

She crossed the circle and entered the Light of Speak, which felt even warmer the second time around. There were fewer eyes upon her, but the intensity of each gaze had been multiplied.

Several of the Counselors had already left, the vote done and sealed. Only a few hundred spectators remained, likely those gossipers hoping some dollop of news would trump the Drenards that had escaped with the scoop. Anlyn saw that Bodi had remained, probably to gauge any potential threat.

She took a deep breath.

"I represent the Minority Position," Anlyn said, "and I wish to have my doubts recorded, that they be our doubts in the cycle to come." Several dissenters nodded, as well as a few who had voted "war" well after the issue had already been decided-swept up in the fury of the political mob.

Anlyn looked over the Circle and into the sparse crowd, directing her speech to them. "I am Anlyn Hooo of the Royal Tree. When I was born, my people believed in a great prophecy. In both song and rhyme, they celebrated the end of the Bern threat as foretold by the one we call the Light Seer but who our enemy refers to as the Bern Seer.

"There are many ways to read the Prophecy. Some have urged for peace with the Humans because it seems our combined power alone can end this grave threat. But there are those who walk the way of the cold and see the Prophecy as a promise for doom. For them, the flood spoken of puts an end to our galaxy, to our entire universe.

"A cycle ago, a human couple came to this planet, first as prisoners under suspicion, then as guests. When one of these became a Drenard, a new interpretation of the Prophecy was seized upon. Soon, this new method of reading grew and became known as 'The One' reading. And yet-like all other readings before-the proclamation failed. The difference was, this time . . . "

Anlyn scanned the crowd through the glare of the cone of light. She took another deep breath and licked her dry lips. "The difference was that this time so many of you believed. And your faith devastated you as it was pulled away. It had become attached, and it took something with it as it was discarded. I watched it happen as a youth, not affected as I had not yet learned to believe. I watched what transpired, and I promised myself it would never happen to me. I would never believe in anything."

Anlyn looked to Edison, then turned slowly, taking in the whole of the darkness beyond the circle.

"We are a people that thrive on the edge, balanced between the passion of our burning hearts and the rationality of our cold thoughts. When I ran from here, from my home . . . " she turned to Bodi. "When I ran from you, it was with a heart that had never been lit. It was with cold thought alone.

"Mortimor and Parsona Fyde came to Drenard a full cycle ago, and they were, neither of them, the One. But I believe . . . I believe they gave birth to the One. It's insane to hear it, I know. But it's not insane to know it. I have feared this burning in my heart, but not now. Now, I balance it with my cold, objective thoughts.

"Molly Fyde, the daughter of Mortimor and Parsona, rescued me from bondage. What are the chances of that? Born on Lok, and therefore more from that planet than either of her parents, she is Human and Drenard alike. And the Wadi, I know the rumors don't agree, but take it from me-I've seen it! I've touched it! The Living Queen is real."

Anlyn met Edison's gaze, felt the tears streaking down her face. "The Prophecy is real. I don't know how, but I know that it is. You have been burned before by false hope and the passion of faith, and I watched from a distance. I will not ask anyone to go with me, but go I must.

"While the rest of the great Drenard Empire prepares for war with our neighbors, I will go to the great Bern Rift as the Prophecy decrees. I will await whatever comes through to harm us, alone if need be."

"You'll do no such thing," Bodi shouted. "The vote is over. You're reciting superstition, not a Minority Position. I demand that-"

Anlyn whirled on him. "My going will have nothing to do with your insane war or your false vote. I'll be going as an ambassador to the Bern people, as is my right as next in line to the throne." She nodded to Edison. "And if the Counselor on Alien Relations will accompany me, we'll take the full regiment of volunteers decreed for that purpose."

"Alien Relations? Ambassador?" Bodi scoffed. "For the Bern?!"

"Ambassador, yes." She paused, turning in the Light of Speak to address Bodi once more. "For the Bern? No." She lowered her voice as the wave of panic and confusion returned to the Pinnacle, spectators pushing their way to the exit to trump the other news-bearers.

"Two can bend the rules, Bodi. For right as well as wrong. The Prophecy will not disappoint another generation, I know it."

"You're a fool," he spat at her.

Anlyn turned, walking back to the wooden bridge dotted with tiny burns.

"Aye, a fool," she murmured. "A happy, hopeful fool."

When Molly came to, Walter stood over her, prying Byrne's fingers off her neck. She could feel the other severed hand still tangled in her hair; she reached back and touched it, a solid clutch of steel wrapped around a handful of her locks. It seemed the two arms were all that remained of Byrne in the galaxy.

Fighting for a breath, her throat burning, she croaked, "What happened?" as Walter pried the hand away.

"I ssaved you," he said through his helmet's open visor. He held Byrne's arm up with one hand and waved it in the air like a sword. The fallen work light illuminated the scene with a dramatic glow, the batteries flickering for added effect.

Molly fumbled with the hand knotted in her hair, wondering if she'd have to cut it out to free the thing. "How?" She turned to look back toward the commons.

"Your friend called on the radio," Walter said. He jabbed a finger against his helmet. "She taught me how to usse the SSADAR and fire the misssiless." He stopped swinging the sword and took his helmet off, dropping it into the dirt and leaning in close to Molly.

"Doess thiss make me your navigator?" he asked. He bent down, his metallic face flickering in the light of the burning ship. "Sshould we kisss?" He pursed his thin lips, his eyes wide and begging.

"Ew, no!" Molly turned her head and brought her hands up to his chest.

It came out harsher than she'd intended.

"Fine," Walter said, pouting. "The cargo door iss bussted, sso good luck getting back insside on your own." He marched off toward the wreckage of Byrne's ship, slicing the air with the severed arm and mumbling to himself.

Molly groaned and sat up, Byrne's arm tugging at her scalp. She yanked a clump of her hair through its grip, and it finally came loose, taking some hair with it. Grimacing, she scooted back to the low wall, dragging Walter's discarded helmet with her. Her entire body felt sore and on fire; she could still feel at least twenty fingers digging into various sensitive places.

She took a deep breath, rubbed her bruised neck, then worked the helmet in place before keying the mic on its side.

"Mom?"

"Mollie? Thank the stars! Where are you? Are you outside? The door's stuck-"

"Mom, slow down." She swallowed painfully and flipped up the visor. Walter's silhouette stood out against the burning ship beyond the other wall, three arms waving.

Molly took a deep, painful breath, the putrid smell of death filling her lungs. "Byrne was here."

"Was? Where is he? I thought with the blast that you'd-"

"I'm fine," she whispered, her voice still hoarse. "And he's gone wherever his hyperdrive took him. It . . . it zapped him and left his arms."

"Oh, dear. He'll be very upset without them." Her mom paused. "I saw the device running, nothing's happening there? Is there anything-"

"No-"

Molly coughed, her throat scratched and irritable. Tears welled up in her eyes from the pain, then real tears followed as the rest came back to her.

"Dad," she sobbed. "He said Dad was here, but he locked him away-"

"Oh, Mollie . . . "

She looked toward the burning ship, forced herself up and collapsed on the wall. She scanned the horizon.

"Cole . . . " More tears. "Mom, where's Cole? Something bad happened to him, I can feel it. It's just like when dad left-" She brought her hands up to the helmet, supporting her weary mind. "He's . . . Cole's dead, isn't he?"

"Mollie. Come back to the ship. You'll have to climb up through the pod bay-"

She shook her head. "I don't want to." Lying back along the length of the wall, she looked up at the bright stars in the moonless sky. "I'd be better off joining him," she said to herself.

Her mother was silent for a while.

"I might be able to help you," she said.

"Help me what?"

Parsona hesitated.

"Join him," she said.

Epilogue - The Land of Light

"Of all the incredible places in the universe,

none are so strange as what lies between."

*The Bern Seer*

0.

Cole double-checked the jump coordinates and glanced at the gravity indicators. Everything looked great. Zebra command was scattered in the distance; it appeared they'd be making a clean getaway. Even better, the red bands worked across vast distances, allowing he and Molly to travel without losing touch.

"I love you." Molly thought, interrupting his own thoughts with some of hers.

"Me, too." He told her. "See you soon."

He lifted the carboglass shield and rested his finger on the red button. Beside him, he could hear Riggs grunting around the duct tape over his mouth, his helmet muffling his outrage.

Cole felt horrible for his old friend. He tried to think of something to say, but figured it could wait until they were out of danger. Pressing down on the button, he engaged the hyperdrive and watched the field of stars before him disappear, expecting them to shift slightly in place.

Instead, the blackness of space shot full with a blinding light, accompanied by a torrent of deafening sounds.

The filters in the carboglass clamped down automatically, minimizing the passage of photons, but even so, he couldn't see a thing. His eyelids clinched tight of their own accord. He tried to crack them, but the light was too intense.

"What the hell?" he asked, as if Riggs could hear him over the noise. Unable to open his eyes, he attempted to make sense of the myriad warning beeps and alarms. It sounded as if all of them had been triggered at once.

Is someone there?

He tried to focus on what he could hear and feel, a wave of panic competing for control of his senses. There were too many sounds, too much stimuli, to distinguish any one.

Hello?

His hand went to the flight controls with habitual ease. He had to remember the simulators from the Academy, forgetting the past weeks on Parsona, where everything was laid out differently. He had hundreds of hours of flight time sitting in front of these Firehawk controls; he just needed to think about what to touch and allow his long-term muscle memory take over.

Pops, is that you?

As soon as he gave the flight controls a nudge, he felt his first problem: the stick gave him resistance. The haptic feedback system had kicked in, which meant they weren't in space anymore-they were in atmosphere! As soon as he processed this, Cole recognized one of the layers of beeping sounds: the stall alert. They were in free fall. He needed lift.

He flipped the switch that extended the wings fully, then shoved forward on the main thrusters while nosing the ship down. There was a sickening sensation as he gave into the plummet in order to create enough speed to fight it. The lift warning went away. Cole could now make out a gravitational proximity alarm. They were near something huge. If the frequency could be believed, it was bigger than a planet. Bigger than most stars.

His stomach flipped in fear.

Penny, silence your thoughts for a second.

Cole tried to open his eyes long enough to check his altimeter, but his lids had mutinied. He could only open them a crack before they snapped back shut. Tears streamed back from both eyes. He couldn't feel which way was up and couldn't see the dash to find out. He reached forward with his left hand and fumbled for the gravity panels. He needed to turn them off and get his flightsuit neutralized so he could feel with his body which way to fly.

Who is this?

There was very little change as he turned off what he hoped were the grav panels. He fumbled for the life support controls so he could shut down the anti-G system in his suit. His fingers rested on the button when a silent alarm in his head rang out above the din in the cockpit: Riggs.

He was about to subject both of them to unknown forces. Riggs was already bound and gagged; he must be confused as hyperspace. No point in torturing him before they crashed and burned.

Pulling his hand away from the controls, he seized the breathing hose and wires attached to his suit instead. He yanked the umbilical cord loose.

His body sank instantly into the back of his seat, his ribs nearly crushed from the pressure.

They were going fast.

Penny, are you getting any of this?