“In case something goes wrong,” he says. “The Master Builder created it ten thousand years ago, in secret. He was very wealthy and thought I might win—the Didact might win—and he would need to leave quickly, to a place where he could not be tracked. He gave me the coordinates to this secret Ark, where there is a final array of Halos. Apparently he no longer wished to escape.

“And now, it belongs to us, doesn’t it?”

Through me, the IsoDidact supplies the Master Builder’s coordinates. The old portal ancilla expresses its relief and asks whether more Builders will arrive soon. “We do enjoy serving,” it says.

I do not wish to disappoint. I reply with a mechanical ambiguity. I appreciate its patience and loyalty. Someday, I may experience similar disappointment.

The portal journey is much longer and much smoother. The benefits of wealth and power. What the displays show when we arrive is at once astonishing and terrifying.

Halos everywhere. Six of them!

And another Ark, also outside the margins of the galaxy, smaller than the one just destroyed, but big enough. For many thousands of light-years around, there are no signs of converted fleets, star roads—or the Flood.

We may have arrived in time!

Our vessel is not recognized, but upon confirmation of the IsoDidact’s presence, our status is updated and we are allowed into the Ark’s protected perimeter.

Here we have refuge, for now.

All communications are refreshed. The IsoDidact has a message from the Lifeshaper—and a request. As we move from the vessel to the Ark’s Cartographer to review Halo preparations, he tells me, “She’s on Erde-Tyrene. But not just to save humans. She’s requested a ship! This one, actually—if you are willing to part with it.”

“It has carried us well. But we will need to replenish the slipspace core before we send it to her.”

“May I travel to Erde-Tyrene and assist the Lifeshaper?” I wonder what remains on Erde-Tyrene. Every human I knew is probably dead. It might be very painful to go there.

“No,” the IsoDidact says. “She says she’s trying to draw off the Flood,” he says, crestfallen. “I believe her, but I think she has other motives. Besides, there would be no hope of your return. And I need you. We have to disperse the Halos as soon as possible. I need you there to ensure success. Will you do this for me, friend?”

I say that I will. The IsoDidact and I part ways. But before the vessel is refreshed, and sent on an automated course to Erde-Tyrene— I contact a nearby Lifeworker.

“Quickly,” I say. “There are specimens in the hold. They must be transferred to the Ark.”

Riser, Vinnevra, as well as others I do not know.

Possibly the last humans in the galaxy.