The Lifeshaper’s plan was to keep humans on the Ark, outside the range of Halo destruction, until the scoured planets are free of the Flood and ready for reseeding. But they have now been moved to the Halo, I presume on the orders of the Master Builder, to make room for Forerunners. Nothing is ever simple, and great plans too often meet awful conclusions.

Now she asks of me a final favor: Save everything we can. I query the Ark monitors assigned to Lifeworkers. Only a few respond. They have no instructions with regard to the Halo. The others have shifted service to Offensive Bias. Must I turn against my fellow machines to fulfill the orders of the Lifeshaper? I now await her instructions, as I cannot act without the Lifeshaper’s command and imprimatur.

Catalog, why do you attend a mere monitor, if not to keep me informed of what I must do? I have no testimony to give. I am no longer human. You should seek out the little one called Riser and ask him. He would offer you his opinions freely.

He is still what he was. Wake him up, and he will give you an earful.

* * *

Finally, I have received my orders. The Lifeshaper has instructed me to take a Gargantua-class transport from the Ark to the Omega Halo. Onboard, stores of indexed organisms from the Ark’s population have already been placed by Lifeworkers. Many of these are living specimens, others are simply genetic composites originating from the Librarian’s Conservation Measure. I wonder if this relatively small number will be sufficient to rebuild these many species after Halo fires?

The Halo faces a great curved wall of star roads. Humans placed on the last ring weapon have barely had time to settle in their compounds. By the tens of thousands, they walk over crude hills, shallow lakes, and rivers, and between low mountains and through thick forests. The brightness of an artificial sun moves in familiar rhythm, and the people down there may hope that their most recent darkness and dreamless sleep, in the holds of Lifeworker ships, will be but prelude to the chance to regain all they have lost. They may hope that they have finally reached a home where they can live in peace for centuries, if not thousands of years.

* * *

As we make preparations to transport the humans, the original Didact’s enormous warship thunders down, taking up a position above the human compounds. It’s followed by thousands of sentinels not linked to Offensive Bias, apparently intent on isolating and controlling this section of the Halo. With access to only so much Forerunner knowledge, I have no explanation for this display of force.

The Lifeshaper’s ship comes alongside our transport, hiding in its massive shadow. We link. She is frantic; and for the first time in years, I’m afraid. But why is the original Didact here?