Olmy’s face seemed to contort with pain. He shuddered, then his shoulders sagged and the tension left him. He pushed aside the Jart information, refocusing on his humanity and on his relationship with Korzenowski, once his mentor, the man who had shaped much of his life—or rather, lives. The fact of Mirsky’s reappearance then assumed its proper color—deeply bizarre, more than puzzling: entrancing. He did not doubt the ghost’s message. Even had someone besides Korzenowski summoned him, this news alone would suffice to bring him out of the forest and away from his meditations.

Events were moving more rapidly than he had imagined.

“Is there time for me to hike out?” Olmy asked, smiling. The mild social humor was as sweet as sugar in his mind, and he realized how starved he had become for human company. The ghost returned the smile. “Quicker transportation will arrive soon,” it said.

“The prodigal son,” Korzenowski said, hugging Olmy firmly in the Nexus antechamber. “I apologize for sending a partial to hunt you down. I assume you didn’t want to be found.”

Olmy felt a kind of shame, standing before his mentor, unwilling to speak of what he had been doing. He still had to keep his balance within his own head, watching the implants he had given over to the Jart. “Where is Mirsky?” he asked, hoping to sidestep questions.

“With Garry Lanier. The Nexus is meeting in two hours. Mirsky is testifying before the full chamber. He wants to speak with you first.”

“Is he real?”

“As real as I am,” Korzenowski said.

“That worries me.” Olmy forced a grin.

“He has an amazing story to tell.” Korzenowski, unwilling to find humor in anything now, looked away from Olmy at a wall of natural asteroid iron, his reflection milky and distant in the polished metal surface. “We’ve caused a lot of trouble.”

“Where?”

“At the end of time,” Korzenowski said. “I remember thinking about this possibility centuries ago, when I was designing the Way…. It seemed a vain fantasy then, that anything I could be involved in would have such repercussions…. But the idea has haunted me. I half expected someone to return from the precincts, like a ghost.”

“And here he is.”

Korzenowski nodded. “He hasn’t pointed any accusing fingers. He seems happy to be back. Almost childlike. Still, he frightens me. We have such responsibilities, now.” Korzenowski turned his square, discerning eyes on Olmy. “Would you resent a request for help?”

Olmy shook his head automatically. He owed more to the Engineer than he could ever repay—more than even bringing him back to life could tally against. Korzenowski had shaped Olmy’s life, opened vistas to him he would have missed otherwise. Still, he was not sure how his plan—already fixed and irrevocable—might match Korzenowski’s. “I am always at your service, Ser.”