Sendra came to the forward compartment with their two sons. "The boys want to watch as we arrive."

She was a good mother, patient with Jamie and Scott-more patient, in fact, than she was with him. Sendra was a strong woman, ready to fill her role as the wife of the future clan leader. The only problem was, Sendra had expected Garrison to be the next head of clan Reeves. Dale had never aspired to be a leader and did not quite understand why she had married him anyway. Maybe Sendra thought she could change him, strengthen him, make him into the right sort of person.

But Dale Reeves wasn't malleable in that way. His father had attempted to bully, poke, and prod him into becoming a leader. Dale had tried-he truly had-but it didn't work. He remained a quiet, amenable person who liked to listen more than he liked to talk, which was good when he sat next to Olaf Reeves, but didn't bode well for making tough decisions of his own as clan leader.

Now, the Retroamer vessels decelerated as they arrived at a large, strange habitat built out in space, far enough from the parent star that it had remained unnoticed and empty for millennia. Dale had never seen anything like it-a giant self-contained alien metropolis, completely dark, bristling with towers.

The space city was built on a five-point pattern; separate arms of varying lengths radiated from a central hub so that the structure looked like a spiny, metal snowflake with swollen polyhedral modules-habitation areas? Storage chambers? Ildirans had a very distinctive architectural style-as did the Klikiss-but this station had a completely different origin. Someone, something else had designed this.

"Do you think it was built by some unknown alien race?" Dale asked. "This could be the find of the century. Shouldn't we report it to the Confederation?"

Olaf grimaced with disdain. "Our green priest will share the necessary details, but I'm not having hundreds of scholars and xeno-archaeologists crawling all over our home. We found it. The right of salvage is clear."

Dale thought he remembered that the Confederation Charter-which the Roamer clans had signed, so therefore clan Reeves was bound by the terms-classified alien artifacts and archaeological sites as "gifts to civilization" for the study of all. But maybe the wording specifically referred to "Klikiss artifacts," because there were no other known alien races. He didn't press the issue, knowing that his father would find some way to insist that he was right, nevertheless.

Dale considered it remarkable that anyone had found the derelict structure out here in the dark between the stars. One of their scouts had stumbled upon it during a wandering trip back from the closed-off neo-Amish planet called Happiness. The neo-Amish refused to deal with any outsiders, except occasionally for Olaf Reeves and his Retroamers. Clan Reeves wanted to create a similar home for themselves in the derelict city.

Dale found it uncharacteristic that his father would go to an already-extant city, even an abandoned one. He would have expected the old man to insist on building their own place from scratch, making every component with their own hands. When Dale pointed out the seeming contradiction, his father had frowned. "Roamers take advantage of valuable resources, wherever we find them. Why would I let this go to waste?"

As the Retroamer ships gathered around the huge, silent city, Dale studied the readings. "Gives off almost no thermal signature. That city's been abandoned for a very long time."

"What is that place?" asked Jamie, his older son.

Dale tried to think of the right way to answer, but his father spoke first. "That is the new home of clan Reeves."

"I thought Rendezvous was our home?"

"We left Rendezvous," Dale said to the boys. "I explained that to you. We're not going back. This will be our home now."

"But who built it?" Scott asked.

Olaf said, "Nobody knows, but we'll find out. The city is ours for the taking. There'll be room for every clan member to have twice as much living space as we had on Rendezvous."

"Do we even know if we can live there?" Sendra asked him. "Have all the systems been checked out yet?"

Olaf looked at her. "Of course we can live there. We're Roamers. If something's not functioning, we'll fix it. If it's missing a system, we'll install it. And if it proves untenable, then we'll build our own city from scratch and use this place for spare parts. That's our Guiding Star."

BO, the Teacher compy transferred to them from Academ, came into the cockpit to attend the two boys. "I will watch them, Sendra Reeves. It's good that they're seeing this with their own eyes. This is history-our clan history."

"It looks spooky," said Jamie.

Sendra said, "BO will protect you from any space-station ghosts."

The boys giggled, knowing their mother was joking. The two had been born long after the Elemental War, but Dale certainly remembered the faeros, the hydrogues, the Klikiss invasion, the treacherous black robot attacks. He wouldn't lie to his sons and tell them that monsters did not exist.

Like a conquering hero, Olaf opened a comm channel to all the convoy ships. "Welcome to a new beginning for clan Reeves. Let's make this place ours. I need ten ships and some scouts to survey the exterior."

The Retroamer ships scanned the derelict city, mapping the modules on the radiating spokes, identifying viable access points. At the first three door hatches the scouts encountered on the nearest spoke, bold but crudely drawn pink triangles marked the exterior hull. Nobody knew what that meant.

Until they found an intrinsic energy source, or hooked up their own power blocks to bleed heat into the complex one section at a time, the first groups would have to wear environment suits. Over the centuries of abandonment, it was possible-even likely-that the atmosphere had leaked away, but clan Reeves had plenty of oxygen generators, if needed.

The first suited Retroamer scouts inspected the hatch areas of the hub sphere, tried to decipher the exterior controls, and in the end dismantled them. Though they had no idea how the alien builders engineered their systems, basic physics and mechanics were the same. With a small power block, the scouts triggered the hatch to gain access to the city.

"Shouldn't take us too long to finesse the controls so that we can open other hatches and some large docking bays. The hull seems intact, but there's plenty to do," the scout reported.

Olaf grinned. "Once we bring our ships inside, I'll assign squads of workers."

Four other scout teams reported in, and one announced even more exciting news. "There's an atmosphere, Olaf! It'll even be breathable once we warm it up."

The clan leader issued orders throughout the convoy. "It's a huge city, and we'll be methodical with our exploration teams, but first things first. For now, give priority to the central hub and one primary spoke for our habitation. Engineering crews will make the place livable: light, heat, power, and air. We've got a lot of people waiting to stretch their legs."

From all across the Retroamer exodus convoy, clan members shuttled over to the largest community ship to celebrate. The mood was light, and Dale felt his tension unwind. Though he had been reluctant to leave Rendezvous, he had to admit this alien city was truly remarkable.

Shelud, the green priest volunteer, joined them for the celebration. He was shy but smiled frequently, and Dale already liked him. Olaf came over. "I remind you, green priest, that when you use telink, you are not to reveal the location of this city-not yet."

"His name is Shelud, Father," Dale said, which earned him a sharp frown.

The green priest nodded. "I understand. I used my treeling to announce our arrival, but no one knows where we are. The worldtrees are waiting to hear further news."

Olaf Reeves called for the attention of those gathered. He stood near a large viewing port, with the enormous empty space city behind him, but faced them all without looking at the impressive backdrop. "We don't know who built that city or why they abandoned it, but our Guiding Star brought us here. It is our new home, our new Rendezvous. As part of the process of making it ours, the city deserves a name." He paused, looking at the clan members there, and Shelud wondered if he was waiting for input. Before anyone could speak up, though, he continued. "I have decided we'll name our new home Okiah, after the great Roamer Speaker who guided our clans for so many years before the Elemental War. Jhy Okiah steered us through good, independent years, kept the clans productive, before we were scattered, before we became outlaws, before we lost our soul by joining the Confederation."

The Retroamers muttered, the tone of their voices clearly indicating they were pleased with the choice. Shelud said he knew about old Speaker Jhy Okiah, but promised that when he had a chance he would use his treeling to tap into the verdani database. He would learn more about the revered woman, especially since their new city would bear her name.

Dale looked out the windowport to see a few lights already shining in the derelict city, though most of the structure remained dark. Soon, they would make it bright and warm, fill it with laughter and hope. This strange city-station was their future and their new home.

CHAPTER.

62.

LEE ISWANDER.

Yes, things were definitely looking up. His son Arden regarded him with a genuine pride that eclipsed the defensive attitude the young man had shown in the past few months. Londa, who always believed in him, now had a shine in her eyes that showed she really meant it and was not just being a dutiful wife.

And Lee Iswander believed it too.

By the Guiding Star, he was going to reclaim the power, wealth, and prominence he had lost in the fires of Sheol, and he felt damned proud of it. A disaster that would have crushed anyone else proved to be nothing more than a setback for him-soon enough, the number 1,543 would be lost in the noise.

And these bloater extraction operations were so easy! The ekti was just there for the taking.

Iswander stood inside the admin module, looking out at the dimly lit islands of bloaters, countless cosmic bubbles floating in the emptiness. Though the cluster was moving closer to the nearby star system, no stars were close enough to shed substantial light. Iswander's own factory operations illuminated the area like a swarm of phosphorescent insects: refinery stations, cobbled-together filtration chambers, workhorse garbage ships that had been converted to extraction pumps. He had added several more hab modules discreetly transferred from his off-books company stores, careful not to raise questions about why he needed the structures or where he was taking them.

New employees arrived weekly. They signed ironclad nondisclosure agreements and lived out in the habitation modules of the complex. Iswander paid them well enough that he was able to attract unmarried and unconnected employees who were willing to come here.

Elisa Enturi flew out to Ulio and other industrial outposts, acting as his recruiter to find skilled workers and convincing them to take a chance on Lee Iswander again. Many refused, but some took the risk. Their support would pay off extensively. The profits were already so breathtaking that Iswander intended to give a substantial bonus to the workers who had supported him from the beginning.

The complex grew week by week. Iswander's team could barely keep up with the opportunities that presented themselves.

By contrast, the operations at Sheol had required incredible effort and investment to get up and running. He'd eventually turned a profit, but at such a tremendous cost. 1,543.

Roamers knew how to eke out a living under dire conditions. Some people, like the fool Olaf Reeves, took a twisted, defiant pride in enduring misery. Lee Iswander, though, saw no particular badge of honor in hardship and suffering-the Retroamers were welcome to it.

A moving light flitted about in the industrial field: the restless Alec Pannebaker bouncing around in a survey pod. Pannebaker reported in, "Two more bloaters drained in the past twenty-four hours, Chief. We're going to need more storage tanks unless Elisa can distribute the stuff faster."

Iswander responded, "I see no reason why we can't do both."

They could also slow down production, but Iswander would not even consider that alternative. He had lost everything on Sheol, and he had a lot of ground to recover. He watched as extractor ships hooked themselves to another bloater and began to siphon off the murky internal fluid. He shook his head just watching it all, feeling energized, as if a special kind of ekti-X filled his bloodstream with optimism.

That afternoon, Elisa returned from making her fifth delivery of ekti-X tankers to the transfer station of Ulio. The woman looked more content now than he had seen her in some time-still focused and impatient, but with less of an angry edge. She had quickly gotten over the loss of her husband and son.

"The Confederation is starting to notice, sir," she said. "Ekti-X is more efficient than regular stardrive fuel. Demand is going up. Each time, I dispose of the cargo within an hour of my arrival."

Iswander ran silent calculations. "Maybe we should charge a premium."

"I would advise against it. We're producing so much stardrive fuel and so quickly, we can't risk slowing the demand."

"Is anyone asking questions?"

She shrugged. "They can ask all they want, but I don't have to provide answers." She glanced through the windowport at the bloaters floating out there, drifting toward the nearest star. "In the time it took me to deliver one cargo load, you've got three more waiting for me. We need other distributors."

Iswander felt an odd sensation in the muscles on his face and realized he was smiling. "I got a report from our scouts. They've discovered two other bloater concentrations outside of isolated star systems, one cluster even larger than this one." He clasped his hands behind his back. "Someone else is bound to make the discovery before long, once they know what to look for. I can't believe that in all of our centuries of space exploration no one, not even one of the generation ships, encountered the bloaters before."

"They seem so obvious now," Elisa said. "Or maybe they weren't there before."

Iswander turned. "What do you mean?"

"They could be just appearing."

He laughed. "Manifesting out of the universe? Spontaneous generation?"

"I wasn't trying to explain it, sir, just offering a possibility."

"Let's worry about finding more distributors to handle our ekti output. I trust your judgment, Elisa. Find another ship that will take, sell, and deliver our ekti to customers as fast as we can deliver it."

He saw relief and wonderment on her face. "So long as we can keep this secret, sir, our wealth could be limitless."

Although the financial rewards were certainly gratifying, Iswander was just as concerned about his reputation. His name had seemed fatally damaged after Sheol, and he meant to get it back. It was not hubris to reclaim what he deserved.

He smiled at her. "While you arrange the shipments, I'm going to make a trip to Theroc and meet with King Peter. I can still pull a few strings."

"Isn't there a legal risk?"

"Not worried about that. I can out-lawyer anyone in the Spiral Arm, if I need to. Sheol was a tragic accident, and thanks to the ekti-X, I'll be able to make any reparations necessary. First though"-he gave her a genuine smile-"everyone in the Confederation needs to know that I'm back."

CHAPTER.

63.

MAGE-IMPERATOR JORA'H Though the Prism Palace was bathed with purifying sunlight, Mage-Imperator Jora'h had slept restlessly for weeks.

As the nexus of the thism that bound the entire Ildiran race together, Jora'h had felt the growing unease for some time now, like a grating hum just below the level of hearing. All his people were on edge from the news of the ominous dark nebula, the missing exploration ship, the tales of shadows from Ildiran legends....

This time when he slept, he felt as if he had fallen into an abyss. He tried to fight back to consciousness, but he was smothering, cold-blind.

Thrashing, he forced himself awake, but he could not see, could not breathe. He tried to claw away the blindfold of nightmares. His heart pounded, and the sense of dread was a palpable thing inside him, as if some monster had gotten entangled in the thism and was straining to tear the strands apart. With a great gasp, he flung his eyelids open, and dazzling light flooded in. He tried to orient himself, tried to understand.

Nira was beside him in the bed, and her presence shone even brighter than the sunlight around him. Wide awake, she leaned over him, holding his shoulders. "Jora'h!"

He stopped struggling, and she sank down against him, wrapping her arms around him, pressing her body close. He was drenched in Nira's strength. As a human green priest, she was not part of the thism, could not connect with him in the way that other Ildirans did, but he felt closer to her than to anyone else. She had been back from Theroc for only a few days, and she too had brought reports of the spreading shadows.

"A nightmare," he said, and his voice caught in his throat. "And now my frightened thoughts have gotten into the thism." He had never felt so terrified and didn't comprehend why. He could never allow any Ildiran to see him like this. "Just a nightmare," he said again, trying to convince himself.

She touched his face. "I'm no stranger to nightmares either."

They lay together in silence, then Jora'h said, "But your nightmares come from experiences and real memories. Mine felt like a premonition."

Needing to be out in the bright light of the seven suns, he walked through the city of Mijistra with Nira. She laced her fingers in his. They were accompanied by the usual coterie of noble kithmen, guards, and attenders, but they were always there, and Jora'h paid little attention to them, basking instead in the city's population.

Jora'h still had a displaced feeling from the nightmare, and because his mood was disjointed, other Ildirans could feel his unease. If the thism was stressed inside him, the vibrations radiated outward, and he could do little to soothe his people until he himself became completely calm.

But he could not relax until he heard some news from Adar Zan'nh. The seven rescue ships had been gone for weeks in search of the lost Kolpraxa.