Bruce Peters eased back within his virtual chair. The troubled young man sitting on the couch before him was a caricature for crazy—bald head, wild blue eyes. And the story he just finished telling was certifiably the most fantastic thing Bruce had ever heard.

Cognizant that he was still within the virtual avatar of Dr. Evelyn Munroe’s body, Bruce did his best to keep his movements and expressions to a minimum. Not that he had any idea how a women would react any differently to the guy’s story.

Ancient beings living for millions of years on the edges of blackholes? What the heck?

Bruce had to give him credit for his imagination, though. And to be fair, the crazy was something Bruce had expected. What he didn’t expect was how indecipherable it would make gaining anything worthwhile about the AI’s from him. It seemed Bruce would need to propagate these delusions and read between the lines to get the truth.

“So, Cedric…” Bruce said in Evelyn’s silky voice. “The Great Ones are essentially gods from another planet?”

Cedric’s nostrils flared with a sharp exhale. “Your mind is too small to even comprehend the vastness of their existence. A planet? The Great Ones eat whole galaxies for breakfast and then crap out the next one. I told you I’m not going to play this game with you, doc. This is why I don’t waste my time with unbelievers. All you ask are stupid, ignorant questions!”

“And how did you learn all this?” Bruce asked, desperate to keep the conversation from derailing. “You said one of them spoke to you…in screams. How?”

Cedric’s throat flexed in a swallow. “When I found death, they found me. And they found me worthy. They sent me back with a message.”

“Which is what?”

“To prepare for the feast.”

“And we’re the food?”

“You are,” he emphasized. “I’ll be reborn in the new world.”

“And what do these gods want? Besides eating us?”

Cedric paused as if shocked by the question. Perhaps it was something he’d never considered himself.

“They don’t need a reason to exist,” he said finally. “They simply do. They create these worlds, they can do whatever they want with them. Us included.”

Bruce worked the statement backwards in his mind. These so called gods were the AIs that created the surface worlds, he got that much. He supposed coming into direct contact with a Builder could easily convince someone like Cedric that they were true gods. But that was rudimentary. There were far more important things to learn here—things that affected them in the here and now.

“Can other people communicate with these gods?” Bruce asked. “Who do they pick who they commune with? And how do they do it? Why?”

If Dennis had the same gift as this kid, then there had to be some commonality to it. Else that led back to their first assumption…that Dennis was somehow one of them. Bruce wasn’t sure which outcome he feared the most, but he needed the answer.

“I don’t question their wisdom,” Cedric said. “I’m just the vessel they chose to carry out their will. And I’m humbled and honored to do it.”

“And what is their will? What have you come to do?”

“I told you already!” Cedric shouted. “To prepare for the feast!”

“And how do you prepare for this feast?”

Cedric opened his mouth to speak, but then stopped himself. His expression grew hostile as a scowl spread across his face. “Oh…now I see. You want to stop the feast, don’t you? Filthy unbeliever. You’ll get no more out of me.”

Damn it. I pushed too hard. Too fast. Bruce checked the time. It was only three hours till Cedric’s real appointment with Dr. Munroe. He had to end this now.

“I see I’ve offended you,” he said. “I apologize. Let’s take a break. We’ll talk about something else when we get back.”

“Yeah, I’m sure we will.” Cedric leered at him. “Don’t you worry, doc. When the time comes… you’re going to know all about the feast. And when you do, it’ll be too late for you or anyone else to stop it.”