Although this comforts Chakas, it does not comfort me. The number of humans we managed to save is not nearly enough. Never before has the frailty of their species been more apparent than right now. But others plans are already at work, and I must focus all of my energy on the task ahead.

I am left alone to do what I must do. There can only be one Didact, and that is not the first. Strange—how cold I feel in my head and chest, in my throat, as if I have been choked with ice—as I affirm that!

I have seen what the Flood holds in store for the galaxy. I have seen it in his haunted eyes and desperate cruelties. He cannot be allowed to carry out his plans, whatever they may be. And yet—what can I do against him? How can I stop his madness? Looking out upon the slowly turning stars, feeling the humming preparations as Audacity finds a solution for our next jump, I reach a quick and desperate decision. I have a few last cards to play. I will use the Ur-Didact’s past love for me, our intense and intimate partnership over thousands of years, as a weapon against him.

Audacity has my personal transponder codes. Using those, we may still be recognized as a safe ship, even an unremarkable companion, by Mantle’s Approach. It is possible that Requiem’s automated systems will also accept me and allow me entry without setting off alarms—or even notifying the Didact of my presence. Though that seems unlikely.

Two possibilities, both, I think, with a slender chance of success. I can join the Didact’s ship—a very large vessel, dwarfing Audacity. Or I can follow in train, in shadow, all the way down to Requiem—into his beloved Shield World, for which we labored so long, and for which he has suffered so horribly.

The solution is found.

We follow.

* * *

What I feel as we approach Requiem is past all polite description. Rarely have I experienced this kind of rage, disappointment, or sorrow.

I have decided upon playing a shadow. We apparently have attracted no notice within Mantle’s Approach.

A keyship intercepts our track, accepts Audacity’s portfolio as well as that of the Didact’s vessel, and guides both ships to the forbidding, steel-hued curve of the massive construct, bigger than many stony planets. Built as a fortress world long before the human wars, Requiem was a template for those which would follow—Shield Worlds of extraordinary power, capable of surviving the Flood. With these strongholds, he could have established defensive and offensive branes with far greater speed and flexibility than the Halos.