“They’re trying to build a huge sort of machine—lots of navigational droids linked together—and they hope they can use it to predict where the missing pieces of the Legacy Run will show up. I just want to know if that’s possible. Can something like that actually be done?”

Mari did not hesitate. She laughed, a surprisingly rich sound. Marchion had no idea where it came from. Her chest looked like you could collapse the whole apparatus with the flick of a finger.

“Of course, you silly. I could do it for you right now. I can tell you where every last piece of this ship will show up. Won’t take long at all. Just…I’m very tired.”

Marchion froze. Everything was clear—in that single moment, every step he would need to take was revealed to him. There were options, branching routes, he would have to make choices, improvise…but it was all one path, and it led to what he’d been looking for all his life.

His comlink chimed, and he lifted it from his belt.

“Yes?” Marchion said.

“She had another seizure,” came Dr. Uttersond’s squeaky voice through the comlink. “I saw it on my monitors.”

The Chadra-Fan’s voice was exceedingly irritating even when he wasn’t affecting the scolding tone he was currently using.

“She’s fine,” Marchion said.

“No, sir, respectfully, she’s not. She needs to rest. No more prospecting, no more Paths, nothing for at least a week. She is frail, and needs to rebuild her strength.”

“Thank you, Doctor. Understood.”

“Do you, sir? Because sometimes I wonder. I think—”

Marchion ended the transmission. He watched Mari San Tekka, the innocent smile on her face as she watched pieces of the Legacy Run kill and destroy throughout Hetzal.

“I would appreciate your help very much, Mari,” he said. “I need to go do a few things, but I’ll be back later. Can you get started right away? I’ll have the chef bring you your dinner. You can work while you eat.”

The old woman didn’t answer. She waved a hand vaguely, her medical pod slowly rotating back to a horizontal position. She was going deep again, her mind flickering along swirling roads only she understood, as she began to work the problem.

Marchion Ro left Mari’s chamber, heading for the ship’s bridge. The Gaze was almost entirely crewed by droids and hired personnel from outside the Nihil. He couldn’t trust the Clouds and Storms, and certainly not the Strikes. Not any one of them. Not even the Tempest Runners were allowed aboard his ship. None knew where the Paths came from, but if they ever found out, well…anyone could keep a medical pod running.