Of course, she was familiar with Concordance theology from her upbringing on Maes Far, their teachings and strictures, but she'd never heard their ideas set out so plainly. “You don't seriously believe they could do that?”
“No, I don't, but that doesn't mean they aren't going to try. Partly, also, I think the shroud above your planet was a statement to the rest of the galaxy. A warning. Leave the path and this will be the outcome. Pictures of what is taking place upon the surface of Maes Far are being transmitted to every planet controlled by Concordance. The whole galaxy has watched your people tear themselves to pieces, watched them fight for dwindling supplies of food and water. They've watched, fascinated and horrified, as your civilisation unwinds into barbarity.”
“Maes Far was hardly some wild, rebellious world. It was peaceful. It was dull.”
Ondo nodded. He was trying to work out the best way to tell her something. There was too much she didn't know – about him and about the wider galaxy. Why did she get the feeling he was keeping secrets from her?
“It goes without saying that the people of Maes Far have done nothing to warrant such a terrible fate,” he said. “The shroud wouldn't be justified whatever your people had done. It is a weapon of the cruellest genocide.”
“You're suggesting the planet was chosen at random from all the inhabited planets in the galaxy?”
“No, no, I don't think that either.”
“Then what?”
“Tell me, how much did you know of your father's research?”
What did that have to do with anything? “Not much. He spent his spare time digging around in the ruins of the crashed starship in the mountains. It was what he did. I resented him not being around when I was younger, begrudged the time he spent with his work, but later I stopped paying it much attention. Sometimes I hiked up there to help him, dig alongside him. We never seemed to unearth anything of great interest.”
“Which I think was exactly as he wanted. I think he probably did everything he could to protect you from what he was really doing on Maes Far.”
What did that mean? “He was living his life, raising his family. Existing. You make it sound like he wasn't even from the planet.”
“He never told you? Perhaps that was for the best.”
“Told me what?”
Ondo considered her for a moment, still debating with himself what he could tell her. “I suppose the secret doesn't matter anymore. The truth is, your father wasn't from Maes Far. Your mother was, but both your father and I grew up on a planet called Sintorus, a long way from your homeworld. He and I, and that starship ruin he spent his time excavating, we're all a part of the reason Concordance put their shroud into orbit around your world to blot out your star. Partly, we are to blame.”
“That makes no sense.”
“I will explain as best I can, I promise. You deserve to know everything that I do. But first, can I show you the things I wanted you to see? It isn't far. There will be plenty of time to talk further.”
“I can control the chair without your help?”
“I've taken the liberty of embedding control flecks into your skull. A little practice and you should find you can control the chair with your thoughts.”
“You put wiring in my brain?”
“Some were essential, to control the additions I've made to your body. Some are useful but non-essential. Forgive me, I should have asked your permission for all the alterations I've made, but without many of them you wouldn't have survived to be asked. When you have recovered, we can discuss which, if any, you'd like me to remove.”
She wanted to object but found she didn't have the strength. “Show me the way, and I'll follow as best I can.”
It took several frustrating minutes of jerking backwards and forwards, steering into walls and machinery, before she got the hang of directing the chair. Ondo, always, watched patiently, telling her that she nearly had it each time, saying try again until she wanted to scream. Eventually, she managed to make it through the doorway without snagging the sides. It seemed like a major achievement. The walls of the passageway she found herself in surprised her. When she crashed into them, trying and utterly failing to move in a straight line, she discovered they were hard stone. “We're on a planet? I assumed the Refuge was a ship. The Radiant Dragon's mother ship.”
“That's a story I've fostered, but we're actually in a hollowed-out lone-wolf asteroid.”
“Then, where are we?”
“Again, it's probably best I show you.”
A spiral ramp, the chair gliding up it once she got the right degree of turn, brought them to a round, domed room, the walls and ceiling of which had an opaque greyness. Selene juddered her way around the room. “It's not very impressive. You think this will give me a cause to cling to life?” Her voice echoed with stone hollowness in the enclosed space.
“Before I show you,” said Ondo, “I want
