“Understood, Lifeshaper.” It waves aside the ship’s inspection fields. We enter Mantle’s Approach. The hatch to Requiem seals behind us. I wonder if it will open again, if I will be allowed to return. I am still not completely convinced that Endurance supports me. All is deception in the Didact’s life. Perhaps that has touched her, as well.

“He has insisted that I be armed and be made part of his protection detail.”

“A weapon shall be procured, Lifeshaper,” the monitor says. “Shall I announce you to the Didact?”

“He is aware of my presence.”

“So be it, Lifeshaper.”

How few of these details have been attended to! The Didact’s lack of finesse is shocking, but I begin to understand. This is my husband’s final sanctuary. To believe he is weak here in any way might be more than he could possibly bear. To believe that Endurance would turn against his plans, join with me … Inconceivable.

On Requiem, nothing can or shall betray the Didact.

A rifle is delivered, a compact, slender fasces of plasma and microwave guides—extremely powerful. A control panel fits to my armor’s glove, adjusting quickly to my smaller finger-span. I examine its workings, request guidance; the monitor instructs my ancilla. My armor learns quickly. I barely pay attention.

“The Didact is making final preparations in his quarters,” it says. “In hours, he will secure Mantle’s Approach and shut down its functions.”

“I presume he maintains a combat Cryptum on his ship.”

“That he does, Lifeshaper.”

“Prepare it for transfer to Requiem.”

“It shall be done, Lifeshaper.” The monitor pauses. “Lifeshaper, the Didact tells us he was not in fact aware of your presence.”

“A sign of his deteriorating health, perhaps.”

The monitor is out of its depths in such matters. “He suggests a meeting immediately.”

I project signs of gladness, hiding any concern. “Request of course granted.”

A doorway opens before me into the darkness. I presume this monitor will now destroy me; I cannot expect success beyond what I’ve already achieved, which is remarkable.

Instead, it leads me deeper into the ship’s command desk. Here I find coldness, emptiness. The Didact stands alone before a partial readout of Requiem’s security. His armor lies folded in a repository, awaiting his attention.

He does not even turn as I enter.

“Wife,” he says. “I did not expect your presence, after all that has happened.” All I feel from him, all I hear in his voice, is a softly simmering hatred.

“Duty to my husband must be foremost,” I say.

“Loyalty … our greatest bond. But clearly you are distressed by what I have done. Perhaps you are also here to oversee my plans for your humans.”

“I am,” I say. “I seek explanation, so that I may be comforted.”

“Pardon my boldness, but before now, you have always acceded to my strategic superiority.”

“We have always discussed such matters,” I remind him.