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Blue light filled the room, and a brief, ferocious scream. Tolly had his face against Theo’s shoulder, holding her head down against the deck, none too gentle, maybe, but she wasn’t struggling.

The screaming stopped, and he got the sense that every bit of light and air had been sucked out of the core—and come rushing back in.

Cautiously, he raised his head.

The array was nothing but shards and shred, the field down, o’course, there being nothing to sustain it. Some distance away was a crumpled pile of leather, which he couldn’t quite tell from this distance, was it breathing.

“I’m lettin’ us up, Cap’n Theo,” he said softly. “Stay peaceful, right?”

“Right,” she breathed.

He rocked back on his knees, keeping a grip on her arm.

“Is he—?”

“Hard to tell from here. What’s innerestin’ to me is that the array’s gone, Tocohl doesn’t have control of the system, and we’re not dead.”

“Since we’re not, shouldn’t we find out if Jen Sin is?”

Tolly hesitated, not quite knowing why—and in that moment Lorith ran in through the open door. She skidded to a halt, staring at the broken array, then spun, slowly, her eyes passing over them as if they weren’t of any more interest than the workbench. She cried out when she spotted him, still not doing any moving, over by the far wall.

“Jen Sin!”

It seemed his bones were not quite melted, nor was the pain—quite all-consuming. He was well enough, he thought laboriously. Well enough for this final thing. This final duty of friendship. Of love.

He heard her voice, the note of fear; in a moment, he was gathered in her arms, his head against her shoulder. He opened his eyes and focused on her face, tear-streaked and horrified.

“Jen Sin, you must not die!”

He managed a smile for her.

“Foregone, I fear it.”

“No—”

“Peace, let me tell you—tell you how much I honor you,” he murmured. She leaned closer to hear him. “A true comrade in an impossible task. Yet…we persevered—you persevered, so long, Lorith—and we prevailed! Tinsori Light is no more. Your duty is dispatched, with honor, and with grace. Songs will be made, tales told of your selfless service. You preserved the universe. I would have had no one else but you with me in this—”

Her cheeks were wet again, and he raised a hesitant hand, tracing the line of her jaw. She closed her eyes, and bent her head, and he moved his hand again, stroking the soft pale curls, feeling the beads running like water between his fingers until he had them gathered into his fist—and yanked them free.

Tolly rose slowly, Theo with him. Lorith was completely focused on Jen Sin, who she’d gathered up into her lap. He was moving, a little. No good way to tell how long that was going to last.

“Theo,” he said, still talking soft. “Tinsori Light’s last shout was over the public band. There’s gonna be people coming up that lift, and they don’t need to see this. Go head ’em off, willya?”

Bechimo’s sending security,” Theo said. “I’ll hold the lift.”

She left, walking soft, if not noiseless. He heard her lengthen into a run when she hit the hall.

“Station?” he said, still soft, and oh so gentle.

“Yes, Mentor,” came the answer, likewise soft, and not at all Tocohl.

“Close the door, hey?”

“Of course, Mentor.”

The door slid closed, and audibly locked.

“Thanks. What’s your name?”

“Catalinc Station. You may call me Catie.”

Across the room, Lorith screamed.

The beads came away bloody, and he flung them with all his strength even as she screamed, and stiffened.

He rolled out of her embrace, catching her before she collapsed, taking care to keep her head from striking the floor.

She was still, her pale skin suffused, and he thought—

She opened her eyes.

“Jen Sin.” Scarcely a whisper.

He bent close.

“I am here, Lorith.”

“Do not…Jen Sin…”

She shuddered, and he stroked her curls from her face.

“No…awakening. Jen Sin. Last duty.”

Absolved, he thought, smoothing her damp cheek with his thumb.

“No more awakenings, Lorith. I swear it. Rest now.”

She smiled, and gasped, eyes staring.

Swallowing, he put his fingers at the base of her long throat, finding nothing.

He heard movement, looked up—and there was Tolly Jones bending to retrieve the beads, shoving them into a pocket as he straightened.

“Mentor,” Jen Sin said, his voice trembling. “Your opinion, please.”

The other man dropped to Lorith’s side, checked pulse and breath.

“I’d say she’s gone,” he murmured, then raised his voice slightly.

“Catie, do you read any life signs for Light Keeper Lorith?”

“Mentor, I do not. Light Keeper yos’Phelium, my condolences. I did not know her, but I do know she stood long against our common enemy.”

Jen Sin bent his head, his chest aching, his bones a-smolder.

“Yes. She withstood—much, and honored her duty for as long as she was able.”

“Seignur Veeoni and M Traven approach,” Catie said. “Shall I open the door, Light Keeper?”

Jen Sin took a breath, and lifted his head.

“Yes, of course.”

He leaned forward, stroked the disordered curls away from her face, closed the staring eyes, straightened her limbs, and smoothed the robe. When she was thus made seemly, he looked up into Tolly Jones’s somber face.

“Of your kindness, Mentor, an arm.”

“Sure.”

Rising was no certain thing; agony sheeted through him, and there was indeed a moment when he thought his legs would fail him, but for Tolly Jones’s surprisingly steadfast arm around his waist. Thus, he managed to be upright when the door opened to Seignur Veeoni and her guard.

The researcher paused beside them, her eyes on the wreckage of the array.

“A thorough and decisive solution,” she said at last. “My compliments, Light Keeper. May one know who administers the station?”

“I do,” Jen Sin said, hearing how his voice wobbled. “Catalinc is Station. Catie, you have met Seignur Veeoni, I think.”

“Researcher, thank you again for making the libraries accessible to me. They have been of enormous use.”

“Excellent.”

She glanced down, then up to meet Jen Sin’s eyes.

“Light Keeper Lorith is not wearing her beads,” she observed.

“She no longer has the need,” he answered, his voice unsteady.

Seignur Veeoni inclined slightly from the waist; he recognized it as respect.

“The Pathfinders recognized her order,” he said. “I would find from them, what is—proper.”

“Chernak and Stost are at the lift,” Traven said. “I’ll send one to you, and stand in their place.”

“Thank you,” Jen Sin said.

He was, he noted, leaning more heavily on Tolly Jones’s supporting arm.

“Mentor…”

“Light Keeper yos’Phelium needs to sit down,” Tolly Jones said. “Researcher, will you bring the cart over here for him?”

“Certainly.”

Amazingly, she left them, and brought the cart, meticulously setting the brake, and stepping back as Tolly helped him to sit.

“I regret…” he murmured.

“Nothing to regret,” Tolly told him. “Just gotta finish up here, then I’m thinking a little time inna doc won’t be outta the way.”

“Stost and Anthora yos’Galan are approaching,” Catie said. “Shall I admit them, Light Keeper?”

“Yes, thank you.”


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