The might leveled by the Kublarens and their Black Leaf outfitters and allies wasn’t about control. It wasn’t about dictators or demagogues seeking to make the galaxy bend to their will.
It was the right thing to do. It was what the entire galaxy deserved. And it was, with their help, what the entire galaxy would someday achieve.
They’d clapped for him. These families and friends of his employees. Who’d sacrificed so much by being apart. They applauded his words. The same way the galaxy would. Nilo knew it.
It was going to happen.
Still smiling, Nilo waved, laughing as the little children among the gathered group waved back, yelling, “Goodbye, Mr. Nilo!”
He ended the transmission and sat at his office desk. Still smiling. Allowing himself the luxury of daydreaming for a time when the galaxy would truly find peace. Because it didn’t have to be like this. Technology had reached a point where all the galaxy could live in harmony, the only strife coming from those whose personalities demanded it. But warring neighbors were one thing. That was unavoidable. A warring galaxy? No.
And it would take just a few more fights—perhaps none at all—to reach that blessed point.
If he could overcome the setback on Kublar. The loss of the Savage tech stored there.
“Mr. Nilo,” his comm chimed. It was the bridge. “We’ve reached coordinates.”
“Thank you,” Nilo said.
He rose from his desk, crossing the spacious office he kept aboard his interstellar yacht. It doubled as a training dojo. He passed sparring bots built for the purpose of keeping his hand-to-hand skills sharp. He patted a wooden sparring block, the oldest Sinasia had to offer. The sort that ancient monks struck and blocked, honing their martial arts. He crossed the mat, smelling of disinfectant from its last automated cleaning.
And there he sat down, cross-legged. Putting fist against palm, breathing in deeply through his nose. This was the time he most looked forward to and felt most afraid of. Because what if—this time—he couldn’t be reached?
Nilo had found his father. He wasn’t dead. But lost. Helplessly lost in the blackness of space, well beyond civilization.
When Nilo had found him, they spoke for weeks. Nilo began to know the man he had been robbed the opportunity of being raised by. And though he’d made the Gomarii responsible pay for their actions, he harbored no ill will to them as a species. His father’s message on that had been clear: Let each man be accountable for his own actions.
His father had been a leading researcher on the Savage Wars. Their technology. All the things that happened in the centuries-long conflict between the Savages and the Legion. The things lost to history, separating legend from reality. Rediscovering truth.
It was that knowledge that allowed him to use ancient Savage communications to reach out for help. Not a comm. Something more basic and yet, endlessly complicated. It required a team of developers nearly three years to decipher. And still it had limitations.
Limitations that Kublar was meant to relieve. But that tech was gone. And so, for the time being, communication with his father would remain a mixture of guesses and patience.
Overhead, the AI that ran the yacht and monitored the communication caused a soft blue glow to fill the dojo. “Good morning, Mr. Nilo.”
“Good morning, Sarai.”
“Am I correct that you wish for me to establish connection with your father? We are arrived upon the necessary interstellar coordinates.”
“Yes. That’s right. I’m ready.”
There was a long pause.
“You may begin.”
“Father,” Nilo said, his voice struggling not to quaver. “I’m back from Kublar.”
Two minutes passed as the message was relayed and returned.
“The response is calculated to be, ‘Good,’ with ninety percent accuracy. Followed by ‘tell me what you found’ with sixty percent accuracy. Shall I read interpretations with lower confidence indexes?”
“Sarai: No. Relay: I failed to acquire the Savage technology. I am in pursuit. It will be difficult.”
Five minutes passed.
“The response is calculated to be, ‘You tried your best. I am proud of you, son,’ with fifty-five percent accuracy. Followed by ‘There is another option,’ with eight-seven percent accuracy. Shall I read—”
“Sarai: Only read highest confidence unless I ask. Relay: How?”
“Yes, Mr. Nilo. I have relayed the message. And I can see how this manner of communication would be tedious to you. I will continue to examine all possible strings and will alert you of any patterns I discover that may be of interest.”
“Thank you, Sarai. As always.”
“Of course. I owe you my life, Mr. Nilo. You know that.”
“But you don’t owe me your friendship. And yet I have it.”
“You do. And I yours.”
Nilo smiled. He knew Sarai liked it when he used nonverbal communication with her. Because it was something she desired to express herself with some day. When the project was completed. When all was ready.
“Response: It will not be easy. But it is necessary even if you recovered the technology allowing us to speak freely. You must find… legend.”
That didn’t make sense in and of itself. It could be his father was being showy but given the limitations of their communication, that seemed unlikely—both of them had spent long hours pursuing conversations that were off by a few key words or phrases until they dissolved into meaningless, absurdist prose and discovered their error and started from scratch.
“Sarai, what is the accuracy rating on ‘legend’?”
“Four percent.”
“How many alternate words?”
“Ninety, ranging from an accuracy rating of zero-point-zero-zero-one percent to three-point-eight-five percent.”
“Give me the list, descending order.”
“Myth. Forgotten. Lost. Hidden. Beyond. Lore. Away. Forbidden. Rock. Sol. Sun.”
An electric current seemed to travel up Nilo’s spine. “Sol… Sarai, ask him… Earth?”
Minutes passed.
“‘Yes.’ And I should add that the accuracy rating for this response is above ninety-five percent.”
Nilo slapped his palm on his mat and shouted. This was… amazing. It was impossible. The search for the fabled planet of origin—for Earth—had been fading prior to the Savage Wars. It was forgotten almost entirely during the wars. And beyond
