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Garrison didn’t like that idea at all, but Seth wore a hopeful expression.

Iswander continued. “And unlike the lava-processing facility on Sheol, these are just simple ekti operations. Despite the volatility of the bloaters, we have solid safety procedures in place. It’s all perfectly safe.” He seemed pleased to have solved the problem.

Then alarms began to ring. Sensor screens in the admin deck lit up, and the ops crewmembers hurried to respond.

Elisa snapped, “I bet he led someone here! Who is it, Garrison? Roamers? CDF? Mercenaries?”

“I came alone.”

Wide-eyed, Seth stood close to his father. Then with a yelp he pawed at his pocket and yanked out a small vial—the sample of wental water Jess and Cesca had given him. Now it glowed bright, flaring with a pale blue illumination. “It’s hot and cold at the same time!”

He let go of it and stared down at his tingling fingers. The vial fell gradually in the module’s minimal gravity. The contained wental light flared bright, then went out like a snuffed candle just before the vial clinked onto the deck and bounced back up in a slow ricochet.

One of the sensor techs hunched over a screen. “This doesn’t make any sense! The stars are disappearing—it’s like a crack in space. A dark nebula.”

Garrison’s eyes widened. Through the broad windowports of the admin module, he watched a shadow cloud unfold as something emerged—huge, black hexagonal cylinders, like ebony crystals extruded from a poisoned seed of night. Having seen the report of the disastrous CDF engagement at Plumas, he knew exactly what this was.

“Please listen to me this time, Mr. Iswander! You have to evacuate,” Garrison said. “That’s a shadow cloud. The Shana Rei. The last one devastated both the CDF and the Solar Navy, then crushed the entire ice moon of Plumas, wiped out clan Tamblyn’s water mines there. They’ll do the same here!”

More alarms sounded throughout the ekti-extraction facilities. The dark nebula expanded, exploding blackness across space.

ONE HUNDRED AND TWELVE

ANTON COLICOS

From the thousands of revealed documents in the Vault of Failures, Anton hoped he could gain some insight into the Shana Rei. This new chamber definitely showed great promise. The sheer number of weapons and experiments the normally stodgy Ildirans had tried when they first faced the creatures of darkness indicated just how terrible an enemy the Shana Rei must be.

In the hours after the war-strategy meeting, he and Dyvo’sh returned to the newly unsealed chamber, where a special table had been set up for them in the anteroom of the main vault. Piles of sorted documents waited for his inspection, and the light from blazers reflecting off the crystal sheets was bright, enough to make Anton’s eyes hurt.

Inside the expanded Vault of Failures, five rememberers continued to inventory and triage the ancient, fragile documents from sealed shelves. There were countless records scribed by scientist kith, warrior kith, lens kith, medical kith, describing defensive systems, test results—everything the ancient Mage-Imperator Xiba’h had tried during his most desperate times before he chose his final solution. They knew about the sun bombs, but nothing else had proved effective. Now, the Solar Navy would reassess all these records and discuss with the various powerful Ildiran kiths that might help, but Anton had higher hopes that the CDF could take the designs and run with them. Something had to work.

Three ferocious-looking guard kith stood just inside the vault. Anton hated having the guards looming there all the time, but Yazra’h insisted on extra security after the attempted assassination of Nira. Yazra’h had always been overprotective of him, but he supposed he couldn’t blame her.

Yazra’h and her ever-present protégée Muree’n arrived at the Vault of Failures, to find out if there had been any results and also to check on him. Anton was alarmed to see that both women sported obvious bruises. “Did you get into another fight?”

“We got into training,” Yazra’h said with a laugh.

Anton frowned. “It doesn’t inspire much confidence to see that my special bodyguards are battered and bruised before any danger even occurs.”

With all seriousness, Muree’n said, “I apologize for damaging her.”

Yazra’h arched her eyebrows. “These few scuffs only loosened me up.” She glanced down at the stack of crystal sheets, though she had never shown any real interest in reading. “Ildirans tried those ideas already. We need new ones.”

“Sometimes failures show us how to succeed. They might spark new concepts.”

Muree’n’s response was gruff. “I would rather succeed the first time. I’m not afraid to fight.”

Yazra’h grasped the younger girl by the shoulder. “Neither of us is afraid, but we do not want to waste our efforts. I am confident Rememberer Anton will find a way for us to strike a mortal blow.”

Anton lifted a crystal sheet. “It may be in here somewhere. The team inside the vault is organizing all of those old records.”

Dyvo’sh spoke up, “We should request more rememberers to be assigned to the task.”

Muree’n looked approvingly at the young assistant. “It will be done—if I have to drag them here myself.”

Anton said, “Oh, I think they’ll come without having to be dragged. There may not be much time, if the Shana Rei are increasing their attacks.”

Osira’h and Prince Reyn joined them, and Anton greeted the young man, remembering his last visit to Theroc. “Prince Reyn—I mean, Reyn. Sorry I haven’t had a chance to welcome you on your visit, despite my best intentions. This task is all-consuming.” He gestured into the vault, where five rememberers removed archive after archive from the dusty shelves and sorted them into ever-growing piles. “I can’t believe the worldforest has no clear knowledge of the Shana Rei, if the ancient war was so terrible. Any hints, Reyn?”

“I… I am not a green priest.”

Suddenly Anton heard a clatter of crystal plaques, then loud crashing sounds from inside the vault. Oddly, the three intimidating guards at the entrance stood immobile and uncaring. They did not react even as the racket continued.

Anton stepped into the doorway to see that the five rememberers had stopped their meticulous cataloguing. Instead, they yanked fragile crystal sheets by handfuls from alcoves and shelves, and without speaking, smashed one document after another onto the floor.

“What the hell? Those are priceless historical records!” Anton bounded into the vault, and an astonished Dyvo’sh rushed in after him. The armed guards remained frozen, as if in a trance.

Anton grabbed one rememberer by the shoulder, trying to stop him from destroying more crystal sheets. The Ildiran looked at him with eerily blank eyes. Dropping the stack of records, he placed his hand against Anton’s chest and shoved with surprising strength. Anton was hurled against the wall, knocking down even more crystal sheets. Blackness swam around his eyes. He shook his head, tried to focus.

He heard shouts from the anteroom. At the vault doorway, one of the three guard kithmen finally began to move, drawing his crystal katana and marching toward Anton. He yelped and rolled out of the way as the guard thrust a crystal spear at him, missed, and then stabbed again.

Suddenly the guard froze, jittering, as a jagged blade sprouted from the center of his chest. His katana fell from limp fingers.

Yazra’h yanked her weapon out of the attacking guard’s back and shoved his body to the ground. “Rememberer Anton, keep yourself safe!”