Clearance was dumfounded. “We are responsible, Lifeshaper! We should return to Audacity. If you are injured, if you die—”

Chant reached out to quiet him, then dropped her head in obeisance. “Enlighten me, Lifeshaper.”

“Enlighten us!” Clearance insisted.

“I feel fine. Interesting, but fine. Let’s stay here for a while and see what they do next.”

We stood back near the seekers and watched as the village calmed. No apparent offense was taken at Clearance’s harrying. The people returned to their huts—all but the old female, who stared across the distance between us, face fixed and pale.

Waiting.

We had found Forerunners. Whether they remembered anything of that ancient fleet, or why they had come to this planet, we had no way of knowing. But these people were our only way of getting an answer. And judging from what I had seen in the old female’s expression, as her teeth sank into my flesh, there were more surprises to come. The bite was not a warning. It was a prelude, a test—and perhaps one way to trade diagnostic samples.

Touch is direct and meaningful, but tissue tells the tale.

* * *

Night’s shadow moved along the valley and up the mountains. The dim, thousand-veiled red and purple glow of the Spider, young stars blurred as if through tears of old emotion, rose high over the land. In the twilight—on this world, there was never true night or darkness—we kept vigil, while from the village rose a few distant cries, shouts, and then … silence.

Perhaps sleep.

No doubt Keeper and Dawn, circling the planet in Audacity, would take it personally if I or the others were injured. My foolhardiness would doubtless cause distress as they contemplated having to greet the Didact, when he emerged from his Cryptum, with the grim news of his wife’s distant demise.

But the Didact and I had parted in the all-too-poignant awareness we might never see each other again.

That was the least of my worries.

I could feel changes coming.

* * *

My intuition was confirmed while we rested in the larger of the two seekers and reconsidered our options.

I allowed my armor to conduct a deep analysis of my situation, but not to intervene—not yet. When it had finished, the ancilla interrupted my meditation, flashing a spectrum of concern.

“There is no poison, Lifeshaper,” it announced. “But you harbor foreign microbes.”

“Forerunner genetics?”

“Entirely.”

“From the old female’s bite?”

“No particles in the air or the soil have such properties. You anticipated this?”

“We see primal choices and minimal technology—but that may be deceptive. They use what they have.”

“Yet they remain bound to this planet.”

“They have no immediate need to leave. They may be happy.”