“Did we get what you needed?”Raine and Leese’s second trip to the Core Worlds had been a bit of a nailbiter for Cato, but he needn’t have worried. With the blessing protecting their anonymity, the pair were suddenly welcomed with open arms as up-and-coming elites near the top of the heap. Getting in and out of the Core was only a problem in that they had too many people trying to clamor for their attention, and they could use proper cities rather then being dumped in some backwoods wilderness.

    Cato said, sifting through the data from the combat brains. He had – with the Sydean Lineage’s permission – done a bit of work on the exact priorities of the brains to help both him and the sisters. First and foremost, he’d used their original gestalts as a framework to help curb the excess compulsions of the Bismuth transition. He couldn’t undo the changes, but he could make them less flighty and restless, more able to concentrate on things unrelated to travel and exploration.

    There was also some temporary reprogramming to tilt the brains toward more concrete environmental analysis, partitioning off a piece for recording the sky, in hopes of finding out where exactly the Core was. The so-called Inner Worlds were very firmly within the Large Magellan Cloud, in a dense region where any given ten-light-year sphere had thousands of stars. It might have been possible to find the Core from those worlds, but it was a lot of sky to survey and he didn’t even know what he was looking for.

    One of his greatest worries was that the Core itself wasn’t even in the real universe. That it was entirely in some basement dimension, or even originated in some superordinate or alternate reality, and so was unreachable by any way other than within the System. He was sure it such reality alteration, as the entirety of the god-realm as described by Initik and Mii-Es seemed to be a pseudo-parallel set of basement dimensions, but if it interacted with the real universe he felt it at least needed an anchor there.

    What he found was a full-on megastructure.

    The telemetry from the Sydean Lineage was absolutely boggling, at least on matters of scale. The so-called war-world had a diameter somewhere north of Jupiter’s, and was orbited by multiple white dwarf stars. There was clearly some degree of System shenanigans involved with that, as the stars gave out the characteristic spectral lines of proper compact objects, but didn’t follow the dictates of gravity at all. Their orbits around the war-world seemed to be entirely aesthetic, rather than something physics would suggest.

    There wasn’t even just war-world, either. There were five of them, arranged in a Klemperer Rosette around some sort of System construct that boosted eyesight alone didn’t have the ability to fully resolve. There was no anchoring star at all, which explained why it wasn’t obvious from the basic observations the versions of himself in the Inner Worlds had managed.

    It took a bit of painstaking matching of spectral signatures to figure out where precisely the Core was located, relative to various stars he could see from the Inner Worlds, but there were quite a few versions of him that had good telescopes. The versions of him closest to the Core’s location hadn’t yet had the time to move beyond the most rudimentary of industrial bases, but he didn’t necessarily have to be close to confirm his estimates. Sure enough, he found a match to the multiplicity of white dwarfs, and while he didn’t yet have any mechanisms to give him a good view, now it was only a matter of making them.

    he told the Sydean Lineage, who were lounging about in one of the luxurious inns scattered through the Inner Worlds capital cities.

    “What about the Core?” Leese asked. “I don’t think there’s any place there that is really outside the System.”

    Cato admitted.

    “Then we’ll be off again,” Raine said. “I think I feel some of those recruiters sniffing around again, and it gets old pretty quickly.”

    Cato assured them.

    “From the offers we’re getting, we’ll have our pick,” Leese told him. “We’ll let you know.”

    Cato left the Sydean Lineage to go wandering as they wished, while he considered what to do about the Core. It was looking like he couldn’t get at it from within, and even if he could somehow get at it from without, it was entirely too large and too thoroughly reliant on the System’s processes for him to deal with it in the usual way. Without the physics-defying abilities of essence, the worlds would collapse and the suns would undergo some rather energetic interactions.

    Which only left a very large and very slow option. The Inner Worlds were in the same cluster as the Core, a thick swarm of stars clumped into a few dozen light-years. Even if he wasn’t spread throughout all of the Inner Worlds yet, he still had quite a few that were near enough to the Core in real space, and that would have to do.

    Buried deep in his father’s archive were the specifications for engines of war far beyond anything Sol had ever created, the details worked out by a Summer Civilization that had taken great care to get such things right. There had never been room or need for megastructures in the Solar System, not with digitizing technology and the hundreds or maybe thousands of independent polities that would have to cooperate. But they had still captured the imagination, and both designs and testing had gone all the way up to just short of actually deploying the manufactories.

    What Cato had in mind couldn’t be deployed in an inhabited star system, but such a thick star cluster had plenty of candidates, most of them less than a light-year away from one of his Inner Worlds instances. He sent out what he’d learned, and various versions of himself retooled their industry to produce interstellar probes, which was a more significant undertaking than most thought.

    Even if the distances were under one light-year, he would still want to try and at least touch ten percent of relative light-speed to get there in a reasonable time frame. Dealing with the dust and debris at that speed required significant instrumentation, power to sweep obstacles aside, and heavy armor to shield sensitive components from interstellar dust. Each pound of additional protection meant he needed more fuel, which added its own mass, in the implacable grip of the rocket equation. Combined with the space he needed for actual industrial automation equipment, the design constraints were very tight indeed and he needed to start as soon as he could. Actually the weapons, though, would take even longer, so to be a viable contingency he had to start now.

    Hopefully he would never need to use them, and they could just remain a silent option out there in the dark. He’d leave the decision of whether any versions of Raine and Leese wanted to ride along to those individual Lineages, but he rather suspected they would. The newest Lineages were decades diverged from their ancestors, and some had barely even been in the System, just using remote frames instead of truly living on the surface. An interstellar jaunt and managing a megastructure would probably appeal to them.

    Finding the Core started the timer, though. There were some wrinkles and difficulties; for example, he needed to know if the System decided to annex another world — something he wouldn’t know if he completely cut off the Core. Until the very end, the Sydean Lineage still needed gods on their side to avoid being instantly targeted, but now he could see the end of the campaign. Especially since some gods amenable to being re-homed, as it were.

    So far, he hadn’t been putting much pressure on the System-gods, not really, but the System’s internal politics were doing a good enough job that he now had an avenue to approach them diplomatically. Initik and Mii-Es probably weren’t quite ready to introduce him outright, as the contingencies that Mii-Es had asked for were meant for purged worlds, but it was only a matter of time. He might even have a chance to go with his original plan, where he eased worlds into the transition, if he had the local deity on his side. R????????S?

    Of course, such plans were just vague conjecture. Mechanics and infrastructure were easy and straightforward, only requiring time. Dealing with people was far more fraught.

    ***

    Muar found that, of all the gods, Misse was the most praiseworthy.

    While perhaps he could be considered biased due to how she obviously favored him, she clearly had earned every bit of power she wielded. More importantly, she understood the danger Cato posed to the System and did not hesitate or dissemble at all when dealing with those less committed to the cause. Yet the [Crusade] was not her sole preoccupation; her perspective was larger.

    “I am not entirely certain what purpose I may serve at this meeting,” Muar said as he walked alongside her through the expansive Eln gardens, not complaining, merely seeking to understand Misse’s motivations. “Despite my merits and my title, I am still mortal, and I do not imagine the other gods will listen to me.”

    “They will not,” Misse agreed. “But you were Chosen for different reasons than trying to bring wisdom to fools. I chose you for your insight and commitment, and is what I require from you. Perhaps you are not a god yet, [Crusader] Muar, but I very much think that is a temporary condition. As is, even, the current crisis. It will pass, and you will continue to ascend — and it is not too soon to think about what you will do when you are no longer a [Crusader].”

    As so often happened, her words were both a surprise and an insight. Cato had consumed him utterly before, but Misse’s words lifted his gaze to see the test for what it truly was. A tool might have a single purpose, but the System had greater designs for someone worthy. Witnessing the coalition Misse was building and the lengths she was willing to go, he had no doubt that Cato would be expunged eventually. Truth and power always won out over hollow lies in the end.

    “I believe I understand what you mean,” Muar responded, already beginning to spin out conjectures and ideas. His friends and compatriots from the [Crusade] were already the seed of a new faction, loyal to Muar and rising quickly — if not quite as quickly as Muar. Heading his own faction could vastly speed his ascension toward Alum, and if he did reach godhood, he would have a useful powerbase.

    Most gods seemed content to merely squat on their assigned worlds, with no aspirations toward anything greater. But Misse had both gods and mortals in the Inner Worlds to carry out her will, and she had interests beyond merely maintaining the worlds of the System. Someday he would walk by her side, sights set on a more profound goal — the preservation of reality itself.

    “You do, don’t you?” Misse said, gifting him with a brilliant smile. “Unfortunately, many gods seem to think that merely being powerful is enough. That being pious is enough. They are necessary things, true, but far from sufficient.”

    “I have remarked much the same tendency among my peers,” Muar said, considering some of those within the Crusade, as well as individuals he’d known in his prior life on Sydea. “It seems an easy trap to fall into, when we are so directly rewarded for our efforts to increase rank or commune with the System — but that is the entire lesson of Parties and Clans, is it not? It teaches us how we gain far more by such cooperation than trying to do everything ourselves.”

    “It is that realization that marks the difference between those who wield power, and those who are wielded,” Misse said, reaching the portal arch at the end of the garden path. A flex of her power ignited the actual portal, and she swept through with Muar in tow.

    He had been to several meetings and lectures alongside the [Core Greater Deity], and each of them had been instructive. Seeing how the gods managed the resources of worlds, how they asked the System for minor changes, made him understand how much complexity there was that mortals never saw. Perhaps his view of the gods as distant, mysterious, and all-knowing beings had been tarnished, but surrounded by the blazing essence of the god-realm, it was impossible to forget how powerful they truly were.

    Their destination was only slightly less luxurious than the sprawling, flower-scented and music-saturated garden they had just left. He had entered the Estate of Misse Eln once again, but he had never been to the same area twice, as if her Estate was a world unto itself. Which it likely was.

    Misse breezed past the mortal servants that hovered just beyond arm’s reach in case either of them had a passing fancy for food or drink or music. For a while, Muar had completely ignored comestibles after reaching Bismuth, since such things were no longer needed and he was determined to take full advantage of what the System allowed. But with Misse’s insight he understood that he was merely being granted freedom rather than a mandate, and such things were still there to be enjoyed — and made even more pleasing by not being subject to base needs.

    Of course, they were the final ones to arrive in the broad room, shedding the servants at the door in favor of a studious quiet from the gathered deities. Each of the gods was seated at their own chair, scattered in a rough semicircle across the shimmering marble floor with a focus on Misse’s seat — made obvious by her coat of arms emblazoned on the back. Muar recognized some of the deities offhand, but others needed an [Appraise] for him to cement their identities in his head. He followed Misse to the chair and took his place at her right hand; standing rather than seating himself with the gods in deference to the difference in status. Muar had no need or desire to make enemies by overplaying his favored status.

    “We need to increase the amount of new Platinums from your worlds,” Misse said to the waiting gods, skipping over all the preliminaries that so often took up time in such meetings. “As our Clan will be expanding our power in certain places very soon, we need higher-quality mortals to contribute to the health of the frontier, and ultimately influence the factions in the Inner World and War Worlds. Tell me what you will be doing to accomplish this.”

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    Muar listened as the gods spoke, marking who was confident and who was hesitant, who dissembled and who bluffed. For the most part, he had only the vaguest idea of the details they mentioned, as he certainly didn’t have the authority of a World Deity, to adjust and tend to all the myriad facets of the System. Some of it, however, was entirely understandable with just a little bit of imagination.

    He had seen some of the behavior before as well, from different groups as he had ranked up. The protection of some small sphere of authority or another, meaningless to the larger picture but all the world to the person in question. The belief that borrowed power, the support or protection of someone stronger, was somehow more legitimate than power earned for one’s own self. All the usual things he had already encountered as the leader of the [Crusade], and it made him entirely understand why Misse would appreciate a perspective that wasn’t so myopic.

    “I will be additionally fronting essence for extra quests to draw new Golds to these worlds,” Misse said, flashing up a scry view to show the portal links and the areas in question. “At least some of them should be able to upgrade their town tokens to increase the infrastructure base of their home worlds.”

    “With respect, Deity Misse,” Muar spoke at last. “That won’t work.” No few of the gods in the room winced, a few scowled, but Misse simply turned to him and tilted her head.

    “Elaborate,” she commanded.

    “If you’re trying to draw people to a nexus world, you will only get individuals from the same Clan as the world,” Muar said, pointing at the highlighted areas where Misse was trying to increase traffic from independent worlds. “At peak Silver or fresh Gold, the greatest drain on your tokens is supplies. Food and drink. These worlds are four or five portals away and so if they aren’t the same Clan, supplies will be far more expensive; no Silver or Gold is going to risk going there and then bleeding money because of the cost. And nobody at that rank has the spatial storage to load up ahead of time, either.”

    He didn’t mention the difficulties of traveling through all the portals back to the homeworld for every meal, as while rapid portal hopping was not even slightly a problem once he’d hit Bismuth, the rapid traversal was decidedly difficult at lower ranks. Crossing four to five portals in a day would be nigh impossible, and only exacerbate the issues of going offworld. That was simply the consequence of being weak, not yet having fully earned the blessings of the System.

    “Interesting,” Misse said, studying the depiction of the portal network. “Then perhaps a series of preliminary quests, rewarding either tokens to exchange directly for supplies or an inventory item solely dedicated to holding food and drink.” She looked around at the other gods as she conjured up a scry-window with a number of lists and outlines. “These preliminary quests could serve as a further tempering and screening mechanism, and so we can reduce the payout at the end. Would that be more amenable to the mortal mind?”

    “I am afraid the nuances are beyond me,” Muar admitted freely. “But if I understand the proposition correctly, I think that would provide a compelling incentive for most at those ranks.” Misse flicked her gaze over the other gods, ensuring they all agreed, and the meeting continued.

    Muar wasn’t entirely unaware of the fear other gods held toward Misse, but he felt it was entirely overblown. He had certainly never feared her, despite the vast gulf of power between them. It seemed to him that they were merely cowed by her power and influence, her family connections. More than that, they were not worthy to walk at her level, and somewhere in their hearts they knew it.

    For himself, he had faith that he was. The System had rewarded him, and Misse favored him not because he agreed with her, but because he dared not to. Perhaps someday he would fail in his charge, but until that day he would not compromise his path.

    Misse dismissed the meeting not long afterward, letting the lesser deities address a certain level of detail on their own. He did understand why the meeting was necessary, however, having run into how little the various deities cooperated when he was attempting to find support for his [Crusade]. He had handed that list over to Misse, but those gods were still in charge of their worlds for the moment, and there would likely be many like them who didn’t want to change their ways.

    “We will begin moving on the first of the independents soon,” Misse said, showing that she was thinking along the same lines. “If they refuse to support the campaign against Cato — well. We will know where their sympathies lie.”

    “Indeed,” Muar said, resting his arm on the hilt of his mace at the thought. “I will be glad to finally move into the last stages of the [Crusade].”

    ***

    World Deity Meshan sneered at the Clan representatives seated across from him in the dark wood foyer of his home. Even if he’d known it was coming, the sheer effrontery of the other World Deities was breathtaking. One from Clan Eln, the other from Clan Lundt, both pretending to be cooperating while clearly cordially detesting each other. Someone much higher up the chain had forced them to be there, and no one was enjoying it.

    “I don’t care what you think is appropriate or right or necessary. Sulean is planet, with people, and I am not giving it up. I know what your type is like.” He pointed one blunt, square-tipped finger in their direction, and the Lundt Clan god actually flinched. “You will leave, and you will tell your masters that the Clans have no claim here. I am master of this world by right and acclaim, and nothing those up-jumped Core types can do will change that.”

    “But,” the Eln Clan fop said, leaning forward. “With Cato threatening the System—”

    “Who cares about this Cato?” Meshan snorted, closing his top pair of eyes as he strained for patience. “If you can’t manage your own worlds, that’s not my problem. This ploy of yours is naked, toothless, and you can’t use some distant, half-invented monster to frighten me into submission.”

    “If you refuse to join our united front, then we must assume it is for malicious reasons,” the Eln Clan said again, clearly more in control of himself than the Lundt lackey. “If you are, then, in league with Cato—”

    “That is enough.” Meshan stood, summoning his essence to him. “I was polite, before. Now, you will go.” He reached out to his Estate, bound as it was to his Domain, to his very self, and shut out the Clan representatives with no undue gentleness. They vanished instantly into the realms of god-space beyond, Meshan growling at where they had just been before turning to his scry windows.

    After the loose coalition of independent gods had come together in the face of the Great Clans, their avarice and overweening pride, he’d added several new connections to his estate, beyond the few gods that he could call friends. There was only so much support the other gods could give, widespread as they were throughout the System’s worlds, but some support was better than nothing. Mii-Es responded to his scry within moments, appearing as her normal languid self, but she immediately straightened up upon seeing his expression.

    “I have been given an ultimatum,” he ground out. “I doubt they have the spine for it. But if they do—”

    “That is what the emergency contact is for,” Mii-Es said. “There has been no evidence of Cato on Sulean, correct?”

    “Obviously not,” Meshan said dismissively. “I doubt that this Cato even exists outside a few frontier worlds. It’s just an excuse to bully us.”

    “Unfortunately, it’s effective enough for them to get away with,” Mii-Es sighed. “I can transfer you some essence—”

    “No, that is not my problem,” Meshan interrupted her. He had his pride, and for all that Mii-Es had put together the coalition, she didn’t have anywhere near the resources he did. “I want you to make sure whatever they do, they pay for it.”

    “Ah.” Her eyes flashed and the demeanor of an Alum Ascender, all blood and fury, showed for a moment. “That, you can be sure of.”

    He cut the call soon after that, returning to his Interface and looking over his world, all the millions of people, his people, that lived there. He had defended it against the depredations of the Great Clans for thousands of years, more than capable of fending off any of their attempts to undermine his control or buy him out. Foreigners were not welcome on Sulean.

    Just in case, he activated all the normally-dormant defenses he had both about his own private System Space and the world portals. Not only to ensure that he could fend off any forces, but to make certain that nothing incriminating could be planted on his planet or person. His reserves were deep, and he could hold his defenses for ages. If the Clan deities came themselves, well, he knew he was more than their match in actual combat.

    Then his Interface chirped at him.

    He reached up to touch his deity badge, his Interface, where it hung around his neck. It unspooled a notification in front of his eyes that made him stare, then blink, then stare again.

    [The world of Sulean has been assigned for liquidation.

    All essence and resources will be extracted and its connection to the System severed. Your connection to Sulean will be revoked. You will receive a one-time essence payment.]

    Below it, a timer ticked down. Emotions that Meshan had long forgotten bubbled to the surface as he stared at impending doom, then he scrambled to ply his Interface against the declaration. He had authority over Sulean; it was world, was its Deity. Yet, nothing he did changed the message, imposed by a higher authority — the highest authority. The True Core. sea??h thё N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    His hands made fists of their own accord, Skills sparking and fading as he tried to reach for something, anything that would be useful — but there was nothing to be done. No force could change what the Core had decided. It was a fact of reality, now wielded against him.

    Except one contingency, for this exact situation.

    Meshan reached for the suspiciously convent emergency package Mii-Es had given him. Until that very moment he had not thought it would ever be needed, but his fellow Deity had been almost prescient. Or she knew something that he didn’t, but Meshan thought it was simply that she’d been more cynical about what the Great Clans were willing to do. He glanced over the instructions, then shook his head and scried Mii-Es.

    “Again?” She said, the moment her image appeared in his scry-window.

    “They condemned Sulean,” he said without preamble. “I have just under three hours.”

    “Ah.” Mii-Es took in a long breath and let it out. “I shall ensure everyone knows. Have you used the contingency yet?”

    “No,” Meshan said. “It seems needlessly complex. Just put me in contact with them directly.”

    “I can’t,” Mii-Es said, shaking her head. “You’ll understand soon enough, and I will have much work to do. We will band together, and go to the Core Worlds — and if they will not address our grievances, perhaps we will have to seize some of their worlds from them to make our point.”

    “Little good that does me,” Meshan growled.

    “I suppose not,” Mii-Es conceded. “You are out of it, now, but that isn’t the same as .”

    “Tell that to my people!” Meshan roared, but Mii-Es shook her head.

    “Invoke your contact. You will see.”

    “Fine,” he growled, and cut the connection. Then he brought up the instructions again, and sent a very strong message to his priests — who were panicking anyway, as they too could see the countdown given to the planet. One of them stumbled out of the Temple, raising his voice to speak aloud the nonsensical string of words on the contact information. Less than a minute later, a Silver rank of his own species approached the priest and replied with another string of words, and that was, according to the instructions, the passphrase for the memory crystal. Meshan repeated it to the crystal, and it unlocked.

    “Go into accelerated time,” the memory of Mii-Es said, and Meshan obeyed, just barely catching a now rapidly-speaking Mii-Es.

    “If you are seeing this particular message, then you have mere hours and no time to waste. Your contact is actually Cato,” Mii-Es said bluntly. “That is why it is a last resort. He has demonstrated to me that he was able to save all those on Gyvestral, and that he has no interest in actually any worlds. His goals are different, which is why I will vouch for him and give you these instructions.”

    Meshan stared, but after a moment of consideration it made sense. If it was the Core that had condemned them, then it had to be someone with some way to the Core that would be able to save his world. While he had never considered Cato a particular threat to the System, it was a fact that he had taken multiple worlds.

    “He has also demonstrated that while Bismuths and above cannot exist without the System, he can extract them safely. Accordingly, you will have to manifest directly on the surface; if you do not know how, here are the instructions.” Meshan ignored those, as only the most unimaginative dullard wouldn’t know how to tear open a portal into the mortal world, but the next instruction was far more interesting. “Prior to that, you may wish to speak to Cato and his agents. The following are instructions for your Interface to create a communications device that works to connect you directly to mortals. It takes a significant amount of essence to run, but under the circumstances, that’s hardly a problem.”

    There wasn’t much more to the memory crystal. He would have to negotiate with Cato directly, though there was little that be negotiated for. In a way he was throwing everything into the hope that a stranger could perform miracles — yet, there wasn’t really anything he could do himself. So he fabricated one of the communicators and dropped it into the inventory of his high priest, who invited Cato’s agent into the temple. How Cato had suborned one of his people was a question he would have to address, but later. When they were under less of a threat.

    “How long will it take Cato to bring his forces here?” Meshan asked, not bothering with introductions. Time was passing, and he had little of it.

    “They’re already here,” the agent said, unbothered by the brusque tone or question. “You need only try and make sure your high-rankers don’t attempt to destroy them as they reveal themselves.”

    “Impossible,” Meshan said. “I was very careful about searching for his influence. I found nothing, and I know the Core Worlds didn’t either.”

    “Nevertheless,” the agent said, and Meshan brushed it aside.

    “And what are you asking for this service?”

    “Nothing,” the agent said, but not flippantly. “All this disruption is, fundamentally, Cato’s responsibility, so he will be putting it right. Ultimately, preserving your world his victory. What he needs to know is whether you can open portals to every dungeon core, or if we’ll have to plan on the System destroying your world’s surface before it goes.”

    “I ,” Meshen said cautiously.

    “Then if you could do that, then bring yourself and your Interface to the surface, as well as gathering anyone of Bismuth rank and above,” the agent said, completely businesslike. “Then Cato will bring down the System here.”

    “How long will that take?” Meshan asked. If it weren’t for the timer counting down in the corner of his vision, then he wouldn’t have even begun to entertain the idea of indulging this nonsense. But this was a sudden, deathly new world.

    “It might be as little as a few tens of minutes, but I would give it at least an hour,” the agent warned. Meshan looked at his countdown.

    “Then I will be back soon,” he said, and shut down the communicator. There was only a single idea on his mind: the Great Clans had to pay for what they were doing. He was hardly going to be around for the consequences, one way or another, so he had just over an hour to make them regret it.

    Meshan stepped out of his System Space, crossing to the nearest Clan world and easily crushing the defenses that were meant to keep it private. He stepped inside, his movement Skills sending him breezing through the residence inside until he found the Clan Lundt Deity, who was busy sunning himself at a beach while his Clan burned Meshan’s home. Deity-rank weapons grew from Meshan’s hands, and the Ludnt Clan only looked up when Meshan’s essence spiked. Too late.

    “What are you—” The Lundt managed only a few words before he was fighting for his life. The resulting battle was short, sharp, and utterly dominated by Meshan as he methodically dismantled the Lundt Clan Deity, cutting him off from his own System Space and using the Deity-rank weapons to do actual damage. Essence flared from Meshan’s long, curved blades as he drove them into the Lundt’s neck, his wind magic ripping the Deity to pieces from the inside. Blood painted the inside of the System Space for a moment before it fizzled into pure essence, dissipating back to the System.

    [World Deity of Hucayl Defeated. Essence Awarded. Do you wish to claim the tethered world?]

    Meshan dismissed the prompt and emerged from the System Space, aiming himself at the next Clan world. None of the nearby Deities were anything more than useless functionaries, compared to how he had clawed his way up to Alum. There were powers within the Clans that match him, but not with such surprise attacks and not in the few hours remaining. He didn’t have much time, but he intended to use what he did have to make them pay in blood.

    By the time he returned to his own System Space, nearly an hour later, the five nearest worlds were bereft of a Deity, and the Eln and Lundt Clans were missing some of their members. Meshan gathered most of his essence and sent it off to Mii-Es, where it might be used to help some of the less fortunate independents, then ripped open a portal to the surface, where Cato’s agent still waited.

    ,” he said. “Now we can get started.”