The IsoDidact has reunited with the Librarian.

Each is accompanied by Catalog. Catalog becomes a triad: one unit with three points of view. Three Juridical agents, brought together, create a personal network and share information. This affords a unique opportunity to observe the reunion of the Ur-Didact, the Bornstellar or IsoDidact, and the Librarian.

Monitors—the few that still function—assign the gathering to a wing of the house only lightly damaged by the Council agents’ rough work. A long, wide hall proudly configures itself for the reunion of the two greatest defenders of the ecumene.

For the time being, at the request of the Ur-Didact, the Librarian does not attend.

The two versions of the Didact differ only slightly in mass and are much the same in shape. Both wear battle armor. The IsoDidact has fewer scars than his original, but both have obviously survived serious combat. Between them there is no preamble, no greeting or amenities. They know each other as well as one may know himself. Thousands of years of both life and experience, nevertheless, define the Ur-Didact, but something substantive is different, something unparalleled in Juridical experience with this Promethean.

The IsoDidact is calm, expectant but not tense.

The Ur-Didact speaks first. “I’ve never apologized,” he says. “It had to be done, what she and I did to you…”

“I serve,” the IsoDidact says. “It was my privilege.”

“You have been partner, and a good one, to my wife, while I could not … Husband or protector. While I was in my Cryptum she made her deals, got what she needed. You saw the results. Now our testimony, our evidence, has been gathered. Was there a great crime? Did we kill the last of our creators?”

“We did. With full justification.”

“And you believe that?”

“Absolutely.”

“What were they like—the Precursors—when we sent fleets to hunt them down and destroy them?”

“Unlike the Primordial, unlike the Gravemind on the rogue Halo. Unlike the Flood, almost certainly.”

“Were they like you and me … Warriors??”

“The Lifeshaper has not shared that knowledge with me,” the IsoDidact tells him.

The Ur-Didact reaches out as if to touch his duplicate. The IsoDidact withdraws a step.

“You feel it,” the Ur-Didact says.

“Tell me what I feel.”

“We are no longer the same,” the Ur-Didact says. “Look at that forsaken sky. The shadowy dust of old suns glowing deep inside with young light. New stars being born. Planets condensing like rain, covering themselves almost immediately in a velvet of life. When I was young, I saw a universe filled with threat and constant danger. It took the Librarian to teach me it was more beautiful than I could bear … Beauty second only to her own.”

“And now?” the IsoDidact asks.

“All I see are the colors of nightmare,” the Ur-Didact says. “Every star turned against us.”