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Sam lost consciousness. She did not visit a second time.

It was enough. The last words settled in with a permanent echo.

When task is done, you will be done.

*

Now, as she prepared to complete that task, Sam wove a calm center and took her seat at the conference table seconds after the Chancellory ship docked. Rosa sat to her right. Col. Lennox stood just inside the bulkhead door as it pixelated, dropping its cascade.

He greeted three of the most elegant Chancellors who Sam ever saw. None was familiar to her, though she was positive Supreme Admiral Poussard would only send influencers capable of shifting policy within the Chancellory and the Admiralty.

They were old school, forty to fifty years her senior, trimmed by early shades of gray and the stiff upward chin of the most intractable hardliners. Sam wondered which of them – a woman flanked by men – would take a moderate approach to the negotiations. Poussard wouldn’t be foolish enough to send only those with deaf ears. She tried to look for the simplest clues, but Sam struggled to see past their one common denominator – all three glared at her as a traitor to humanity. They did not attempt to hide their scowls.

Steady. Graceful. Poised.

She allowed Miguel to show them to the conference table. He took the chair to Sam’s left shoulder. Her hands clasped, her smile steady but measured, her eye contact unblemished, Sam followed the script.

“Thank you for meeting us today under these challenging circumstances,” she said. “My name is Samantha Pynn. I am Salvation’s first Ambassador to Earth. We have come to you because we believe the previous conflict between Salvation and the Chancellory can be resolved through diplomatic measures. It is the genuine hope of Brother James that a new order be established to promote peace among the forty worlds. As part of this peace, Earth and the world currently known as Hiebimini will engage in no further military conflict and will allow the colonies of the Collectorate to choose their path as sovereign worlds. On behalf of Brother James, I welcome the chance to promote an exciting new future for us all.”

11

T HE THREE CHANCELLORS EYED EACH OTHER with caution. The woman spoke first.

“I see,” she said. “Peace. An exciting future for us all. Ms. Pynn, my name is Eve Cardamone. I represent a Presidium with vital interests on thirty-five colonies and a descendancy that has faithfully served in the Guard for as many generations. This new future your so-called kidnapper speaks of would strip Chancellors of their birthrights. It would destroy Earth’s economy and end the single greatest triumph in human history. Is it truly the position of your misbegotten … friend … that a handful of genetic monstrosities will hold the same balance of power as a Chancellory a billion strong?”

Though she did not know what objections would arise first, Sam heard nothing that rehearsals did not prepare her for. She avoided focusing on Cardamone’s insults and gave a strong, conciliatory nod.

“I understand your concerns, but we are not here to antagonize you. However, the evidence is clear. Salvation has engineered spectacular military victories over the mighty resources of the Guard while evading all attempts at capture. These genetic monstrosities, as you call them, were created through sinister medical experiments for the purpose of saving Chancellors from extinction. Many were genetically modified to become weapons of mass destruction, while others were stripped of the basic human ability to procreate. They have earned a right to their own home world and a status as revered as the Chancellory.”

The male to Cardamone’s left grunted. “Armin Lastrobe, Executive Chairman of the Europa Consortium,” he said. “These two beside you? Hybrids?”

“No. Miguel and Rosa are immortals.”

“I see. And do they know how to speak?”

“That’s not their role today.”

“Ah.” He scratched at his deep brown mustache. “They’re your minders, Ms. Pynn. Making sure you don’t speak out of turn. Have they completely brainwashed you, or is there anything left of you?”

The comment cut deep, but she anticipated it.

“I am the willing Ambassador to Earth,” she said. “I have chosen to be the diplomatic face of Hiebimini because the killing must end.”

The third Chancellor, who identified himself as Randolph Drake, laughed. “The killing? All I’ve seen is Brother James and his psychopaths vaporize two million Chancellors. If you are so interested in resolving this conflict, then allow me to pose a question. What would the eminent, merciful and peace-loving Brother James think about the idea of the Chancellory returning its Ark Carriers to their respective colonial orbits?”

She expected this question to come up sooner. Originally, the answer was included in her opening statement.

“Reestablishing an Ark Carrier fleet over the colonies would be considered an act of war, as you would be denying those colonies their right to sovereign rule. Salvation would have no choice but to carry out immediate retaliation. However, if you will simply agree to a truce while we pursue diplomatic measures, no harm will come to any Chancellor on Earth or in the Sol system. The final terms of realignment must be carefully negotiated. Surely, you can see the wisdom in this?”

“Wisdom?” Eve Cardamone raised a finger to silence Drake. “Was it wisdom you brought to the table when you convinced Angela Poussard to end the necessary occupation of Earth? Was it wisdom when you helped to ensure Solomons would share political power with their masters? Or was it simply a selfish attempt to save the proto-African who shared your bed? And now, do you offer wisdom in order to save the other friend who crossed into our universe at your side?”

It was bound to arrive. Sam heard the accusations before, during, and after the SkyTower inquest. She knew of the lingering whispers as she openly shared her life with Michael at her side.

“Ms.

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