Genvass rode the slidewalk towards the center of Kathmandu, one of the larger existing cities of their new home, as well as the site chosen for their capital. Named for an old city back on Earth, the still mostly empty metropolis was the hub of their efforts to remake this planet into their own. Transportation had been an issue at first, forcing the fledgling Provisional government to rely on the aging shuttles to move personnel and materials, until they could finally reactivate the slideways. The slideways were in all the cities the teams had explored, flat moving surfaces that crisscrossed the urban grids. Using them was simple. All you had to do was step on board and let it carry you away, though they were still working the bugs out of the navigation software. For now, they were stuck using an app for a work-around, forcing you to pay close attention to your tablet, as it told you when and where to board, transfer, and disembark. The other riders all had their noses buried in their own electronic devices, just as he did, and likely for the same reason, though they were promising a more permanent fix any day now.

He took that promise, like all the other government assurances, with a grain of salt.

Arriving at his destination far sooner than he’d expected… and with only a couple of missed connections… Genvass entered the structure they were calling the Government House, taking a lift to the upper floors. All their efforts to colonize New Terra were coordinated here, though perhaps not as efficiently as one might hope. The various clans often ended up working at cross-purposes, but at least they were trying to cooperate. Mostly. When the mood struck them, and they weren’t in a snit over some perceived slight.

Hell of a way to run a planet, the Dharmist sighed, winding his way through the corridors until locating the chamber he’d been searching for. He pressed his thumb against the doorplate, waiting patiently until the hatch slid silently open.

“... whatever it is, the answer is ‘No’,” the room’s sole occupant snapped, not bothering to look up.

“Hello, Samara. It’s nice to see you again, Samara. It’s been too long, Samara,” Genvass riposted, seating himself across from her as the former Protean glared at him from behind a stack of tablets. Half buried under the pile sat a metallic cube, covered with intricate fractal patterns.

“Which part of ‘No’ were you unclear on?” she demanded. “I’m busy.”

He glanced at her cluttered desk. “I can see that,” he nodded, “but this is important.”

“It’s always important,” she growled, her patience now wearing thin. “Every person who comes through that door has a sob story and a reason for me to make an exception just for them. So, again, the answer is ‘No’.” She shot him a look that would have sent lesser mortals running for the nearest exit, returning to her work as she reached for a tablet.

“... we found a hospital,” he said quietly.

Samara’s hand froze in midair. “What did you just say?” she asked him, leaning back in her chair as she regarded him more fully.

“You heard me,” he smiled, passing her a tablet of his own. “My preliminary report.”

All but snatching it out of his hand, she began poring over the data, her eyes intent as she studied the file. Finally, she set it down, folding her hands as she rested her chin.

“I appreciate you bringing this to me,” Samara told him, her demeanor much more pleasant, “though I’m still waiting for the other shoe.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Genvass replied.

“Oh yes, you do,” she said, somewhat pointedly. “I know a horse trade when I see one. What is it you want in return?”

“Nothing, I swear,” he protested. “That research center could help a great many people if we can get it up and running again. We still have plenty of wounded left over from that last battle, Samara, not to mention all the others who could benefit from this sort of advanced medical technology. Like members of your own clan, for example,” he said casually, earning him another glare. “Just think how much easier things would have been for you if we’d had this tech back on Gyrfalcon.” Genvass smiled beatifically as she shook her head.

“Oh, nicely done,” Samara said in approval. “I hardly felt the blade as it slipped between my ribs. You’re actually getting better at this.”

“I’m being honest with you,” Genvass said candidly. “I don’t have a hidden agenda or some sort of quid pro quo. Now, I’ll admit to playing on your loyalties to get your attention, but that’s all. I just want to help.”

She sat there, eyeing him, before finally giving a nod. “All right,” she told him, holding up her hands, “... all right. I’ll move it towards the front of the queue. That’s the best I can do.”

“That’s all I ask,” he nodded gratefully. “How do you like your new job?”

“I don’t,” she grimaced. “First off, they’ve turned me into a damned bureaucrat,” she said in disgust. “I was a terrorist, for Terra’s sake! The government is supposed to be hunting me down, not handing me a desk. I’m still waiting for an explanation on how exactly that happened.”

“The universe has a perverse sense of humor?” he offered, hiding his own amusement.

She gave him a withering look. "Cute," she snapped before finally relenting and shaking her head. “Second, I’m the only Terran who’s linked to a Precursor database of experts from every field. Guardian and his people helped us decipher what we found here, and we couldn’t have done it without them. But we’ve just barely scratched the surface, not to mention the fact Guardian and the cognates have their own problems.”

His eyebrows raised in surprise. “Problems? What sort of problems?”

Samara sighed. “I think I’ll let him take that one,” she replied, her body going rigid for a moment as someone else took over the reins from within.

“The problem Samara refers to is complex,” Guardian answered, interlocking their fingers as he/she/they leaned forward, resting their elbows on the desk. “While I and my fellow cognates are indeed what you Terrans call Precursors, we are not the same as those that eventually departed this world.”

“I’m afraid I don’t follow,” Genvass shook his head.

“We created the Repository early in our forced exile to this quantum reality,” they continued. “It was necessary to ensure the Great Plan would continue, even through times of stagnation or great social upheaval. And our efforts were successful but creating the device necessary for my people to return home took a great deal of time; time, I am afraid, that marched on without us.”

As Guardian spoke, it was difficult for him to maintain his composure. Hearing that oddly stilted voice emanating from Samara’s mouth was disturbing, eerily reminiscent of the time she’d suddenly started shouting in Eleexx when the Knights had operated on her. So much so, in fact, that he was left struggling with the point they were trying to make.

“I’m still not seeing the problem,” he said awkwardly, fidgeting in his chair.

“All that you see on this world is the end product of our civilization,” Guardian said patiently, “a culture that endured for hundreds of millions of your years. The beings that created the structures and technology surrounding you were our distant descendants; while we, their ancient ancestors. From what we have been able to discover, we were no longer even the same species, as they had evolved beyond the race I had known.”

“So all this stuff is as big a mystery to you as it is to us?” Genvass said in surprise.

“Not to the same extent,” Guardian disagreed. “Our science was more advanced than yours, which aided our efforts, but more importantly, our descendants incorporated sophisticated software in their designs. Their programmed maintained copies of the various languages spoken throughout our exile, tied into advanced translation algorithms. Through them, we have learned a great deal, though much remains beyond us.”

Guardian gave him a polite nod, and then Samara was shaking herself out like a wet dog. “Sorry,” she apologized, “I’m never getting used to that.”

“It’s all right,” he demurred.

“Anyway, the Provisional government’s got me bouncing from one site to the next, so Guardian can jumpstart whatever industry they want operational. Then everyone else gets onboard, playing catch-up.” She shrugged helplessly. “We’re learning a lot, but it’s slow going.”

“And the hospital?” Genvass prompted.

“I agree it’s important, and first chance I get, I’ll plug in Rithir Merkott and take a look.”

The Dharmist paused for a moment. “I assume by the context of that statement this individual is one of your cognates?” he guessed.

“He is,” Samara confirmed. “He’s a doctor… sort of… and the first cognate I contacted, though I don’t remember it.” Genvass gave her an odd look. “Long story,” she sighed. “Anyway, he’d be the one best qualified to evaluate the hospital.”

“You’ll have to tell me that story sometime,” he said politely, standing up. “Thank you, Samara, for hearing me out. I think this discovery could be very important for our people.”

“It’s something we’ve needed for a long time now,” she agreed. “I’ll keep you posted if we learn anything.”

“I appreciate that,” Genvass smiled. “It was good seeing you again, Samara. I hope you are well.”

“Working on it,” she said with a weary grin. “Good seeing you, too. You take care of yourself.”

The pair smiled politely at one another as he exited the office. He was never completely comfortable in her presence, for several reasons, one of the most pressing being their shared history. They’d had an intimate relationship during their mission to Earth; one, it turned out, based on lies. She had simply been using him to further her own mission, the one ordered by her Eleexxi masters. Learning the truth had come as a hard blow, but in the end, he’d almost pitied her. These days, of course, it was the fact she now shared her consciousness with a veritable horde of Precursor cognates. Guardian seemed pleasant enough, based on their brief interaction, but it was still eerie.

He was just headed for the lifts when his tablet chimed. Genvass was tempted to ignore it, fearing it was Samara playing another one of her little games, but decided instead to see who the call was from. He came skidding to a halt when he read the caller’s ID… the person attempting to reach him was his none other than very own clan leader, the Dàifu Tsoumlum Khatsakhox, chieftain of the Dharmists. Nervously running his fingers through his hair, he took a calming breath before making the connection.

“Good morning, Dàifu,” he said with genuine respect. “What may I do for you?”

“Genvass,” she nodded, “I hope I haven’t caught you at an inconvenient time?”

“Not at all,” he protested. “In fact, I just concluded a meeting at the Government House.”

“Then it would seem my timing is indeed fortunate,” she chuckled. “There’s a matter I’d like to discuss with you, and since you’re already here…”

“I can be at your office in just a few minutes, Dàifu,” Genvass informed her. “If that’s acceptable, I mean.”

“It is,” she nodded. “I await your arrival.” With that, she ended the call.

It had been several weeks since he’d last spoken with her, and as Genvass made his way to her suite, he wondered why she’d requested the meeting. Had she heard of the hospital they’d discovered, and wished to learn more? Possible, but somehow it didn’t feel accurate for some reason he couldn’t pin down. Not that it ultimately mattered, he decided, as she would inform him of the reason soon enough herself. Content with that, at least for the moment, he reported to her office and was quickly ushered inside for a private audience.

“Thank you for coming so promptly,” she smiled, taking his hand. “Please, sit down.”

They both took their seats as he tried to relax, but a sudden attack of nerves made that difficult. While they had a professional working relationship, and Genvass was certain she approved of both him and his efforts, a call out of the blue like this rarely involved good news.

“I’ll get straight to the point,” she told him. “Something has come up, a mission of a rather sensitive nature. I need someone I trust to handle it, and your name is at the top of a very short list. Interested?”

“Of course,” he nodded. “I’m happy to assist in any way I can.”

“Good,” she said, a bit too hastily. Leaning back in her chair, he could tell something was troubling her.

“We’ve been busy these last few months, working to make New Terra our home. And we’ve made great strides in that short time, though of course there is much that still needs to be done. I suspect we face the work of several lifetimes ahead of us, if not more.” The Dàifu had a faraway cast to her eyes, one he understood completely. “For the first time in two hundred years, humanity is united, and we are safe.” She paused for a moment and then sighed.

“At least, that was our hope. The reality, however, is proving far more complicated.”

“I beg your pardon?” Genvass blurted. “Are you saying that we aren’t safe here? Has someone found a way past Athena’s defenses?” If one of the other races had pulled that off, then it was indeed disturbing news.

“No, nothing like that,” she rushed to assure him as he sagged in relief. “But the Provisional government is proving to be even more stubbornly makeshift than we’d feared. We’d hoped to have the beginnings of something more permanent by now, more unified, but I’m afraid the old clan divisions are still keeping us segregated. In time, I’m certain we will overcome the years of mutual distrust, but until then?” She shrugged helplessly. “I’m afraid we must muddle through the best that we can.”

“I had wondered,” he confessed. “I… and many others, I imagine… had hoped for word of a new government by now. I was afraid the reason we hadn’t was something like this.”

“Some things never change,” she agreed sadly. “Still, that doesn’t address the reason I asked you here. While it’s true that we’re safe from outsiders, here on New Terra, the other races are growing increasingly… anxious. We’ve been so busy trying to bring this world back to life and make it a home, we’ve ignored everything and everyone else. Eventually, we will venture once more outside this secure little bubble we call New Terra, and when we do, it would be best for all concerned if we didn’t find an angry armada waiting for us.”

“What is it you’re asking of me, Dàifu?“ he said nervously. If she was going where he thought she was with this…

“We need an ambassador,” she told him, “someone to represent our interests and speak with the other races. Your efforts to secure passage for our clan to bring us here, the original mission to Earth, and your… resolve, let’s say?… in forcing your fellow Dharmists to hear uncomfortable truths, make you by far the best candidate.”

He stared at her in shock. “But surely, someone who fought alongside the Alliance would be…” he began, only to be cut off.

“The Alliance is military,” she reminded him, “whereas this mission involves diplomacy. The other clan heads and I went back and forth on this until it was finally agreed that our clan’s positive experience with other species left us best suited to take the lead.” She silently regarded him as he wrestled with the offer on the table. “I wish I could give you more time to decide, but I’m afraid that I need an answer now. A situation has come up, and we need to deal with it as soon as possible.”

Genvass swallowed. What she was asking was an enormous responsibility, and despite her kind words, he himself was unsure he was the one best suited for the job. Diplomacy was a dangerous landscape to navigate, even under the best of circumstances, but now? With all that had happened? The possibilities, both good and bad, danced behind his eyes.

“If you truly believe that I am the one best suited for the job, then of course I accept,” he said at last, bowing his head. He could feel the blood pounding in his temples, an uncomfortable sense of the future rushing toward him, but if could truly do some good… then so be it.

Not that any of that helped with the acid now frothing merrily away inside his stomach.

“Splendid!” she said gratefully, before picking up a tablet and passing it over.

“What’s this?” he asked, taking it from her hands.

“Your first assignment,” she informed him.

He raised an eyebrow as he looked up at her.

“... the Oivu have requested a conclave.”