Allowing my sentient species to achieve their own prominence—until such time as they can begin to defend themselves. Living Time is ever filled with challenges and competitions.

I must return some of her warrior dignity. “You, here, protecting him instead of me,” I murmur.

“You are not a Warrior,” she says, drawing herself up. “You never were.”

Suddenly, confronted with this strange insult—a statement that is only the truth—I lose my way through my own machinations. I feel an almost irrepressible urge to strike out at her. Lifeworkers have always stepped lightly between the crushing burdens of Builders and Warriors. My armor tenses with pent-up anger.

I quell it.

There is no more we can say on this, no more absurdity or closure to be had. My love for the Didact was long ago destined to become a curse, despite all we could do. But I am Lifeshaper. I alone can make a final effort to insure that the Mantle falls into the hands of its rightful heirs. And that is something that the Didact, in his better centuries, believed in just as passionately.

If one can serve the ghost of a living husband … And so it shall be put to Endurance.

“I wish to leave something of myself here,” I tell her. “The Didact in his right mind would not object.”

Endurance regards me with even stronger suspicion. “What would you leave?”

“If Lifeworkers succeed in repopulating the galaxy, after the Flood is gone … If you have visitors who seek to challenge the Didact, you can convey to them a message. And a safeguard.”

“And what will that message be?”

“That is for the visitors. If any. It won’t take long to deliver an imprint to your ancillary systems.”

“Why should Requiem accept your imprint?”

“You know what the Didact has become,” I tell her. “He could emerge a danger both to himself and to others, even those who mean no harm.”

Her gaze is level, clear—all too discerning.

“What I leave of myself will serve as much to protect Requiem, as to protect any visitors.”

She thinks this through. Her own uncertainty about the present situation weighs heavily. “Your loyalty to your husband has never been questioned.”

“Never. All shall benefit,” I say. “The Didact must not control the Prometheans.”

This causes Endurance more difficulty. “Very complicated, Lifeshaper. Would you have me go against his commands?”

We have come this far!

“What was his last command?”

“That I guard Requiem with my life,” Endurance says.

“Then there is no contradiction,” I say. “You must guard Requiem—you must guard him. I have watched my husband for over ten thousand years. And now my imprint will help you watch him long after I’m gone.” I hope I know enough of Warrior psychology and tactical planning, as well as command structure and responsibility, to make this case plausible.

“If you agree,” I conclude.