The Thing’s equipment was state of the art, but doubt fluttered like a moth in Niko’s throat. Would it be this easy? Could it be?

They stayed silent, even when the ship said, “Drones successful, Captain Niko,” although Niko’s lips firmed as though about to speak.

The ship said, “Gio is safely away and says his incendiaries are all in place.”

Another point where all her plans could fail. Was this what Lassite felt, with all his words about the Spiral of Destiny, and the choices that led to it, knowing that at any moment all of it could falter, could fail, could fall away out of possibility?

It paused, waiting for reply, then said, “Incendiaries engaged. Facility destroyed.”

As the energies flared, it waited, feeling curiosity like an itch. Why did they not speak?

But then Niko said, “The last of Last, one might say. And now, will you stay or go?” Her voice was impatient and harsh, deliberately so.

Petalia’s answer was so quiet that both Ship and Niko barely heard it.

The Florian took their leave of the Thing and its crew.

The gate was small but central, meaning they could catch a ship to a multitude of places.

The rest of them were absent when Niko walked Petalia down to the landing ramp. Niko looked around. There were very few other ships at dock; three docks down, a crowd of cheerful Geglis were cheering one another on, trying to see who could load their ship the fastest, and passing around a bottle of starwater, guaranteed to slow anyone down.

“The others said goodbye already,” Petalia said. “I think you’re being given space in which to say your farewell.”

Sadness edged their tone. Niko said, “Is it farewell, then?”

“It must be.”

The question she had tried so hard not to ask finally burst from her. “Are you sure, Pet? Really, truly sure?”

Petalia drooped. Strands of little white flowers fell over their forehead, obscuring their face like a veil. The air was stinging cold; fueling stations kept environmentals at a minimum except for the levels where the workers were, or the single canteen where travelers were encouraged to spend their money on necessities at ten times their normal price. Out past the field that kept the thin air inside the station, stars glinted, cold and white against blackness, staring bleakly into the void.

Petalia murmured, “Be reasonable, Niko. Would you want to go on like this, forever at each other’s throats? With you forever reminding me of Tubal Last?”

“Ah,” Niko said. “That’s it, then. I and Last are woven together inextricably for you, are we?”

“How could you not be, with his obsession with his revenge being played out every day? You have no idea of the depths to which he hated you, Niko. You were the only creature still living that had ever dared cross him; he destroyed all the rest.”