This entire world was a library: the book had told her that. The library obligingly shaped itself to her memories of human libraries, giving her information in the form of words on electronic pages. It had also told her she was still inside the derelict, and still on the surface of Ikaria.

This, then, was how the derelict chose to communicate with her. Corso’s interface chair seemed laughably primitive by comparison.

As months passed, she learned how to summon the ghosts of the dead Magi Librarians and quiz them about their history. In turn, they taught Dakota her true purpose: the one they believed she had been brought to Nova Arctis to fulfil.

After a few years, she began to understand just how much was required of her, and just how much would be at stake throughout the galaxy if she failed.

Corso listened to the desperate sound of his own breath, as he counted down the seconds to his death. He was sufficiently preoccupied, and it took a moment before he realized a comms light on the command console was blinking.

Someone was trying to communicate with him.

He lurched upright. Information was scrolling across a screen, too rapidly for him to follow.

It appeared something else had taken control of the Piri Reis.

‘Piri!’

No answer.

He hammered at the controls, but they failed to respond.

The ship lurched violently.

For millennia, the three Magi vessels had lain in their silent graves, waiting for the arrival of a Pilot.

The first Pilots were older than dust, half-forgotten Magi who had flown these ships to this lost, lonely system even as the Shoal hunted down the last of their numbers. Those first Pilots had enjoyed countless virtual years within the memories of these three craft, but even that near-eternity of subjective experience eventually gave way to the gradual pace of external time and entropy.

In the end, death had claimed even them.

Bright rivers of white-hot lava spat and flowed in the depths of Ikaria’s great chasm, sending searing light up towards the ridge on which the three derelicts lay. The one Dakota had entered finally rose from its resting place, bright energies flickering around its skeletal spines.

As the ground fell away from beneath it, pockets of gas detonated from deep within the chasm walls, sending boulders and debris tumbling down on the two remaining vessels.

Vast fissures began to tear through Ikaria’s crust, and the planet shifted in its orbit as it rapidly lost mass to the searing heat of the nova.

Above it all, the Piri Reis floated like a dragonfly above the open door of a furnace.

Thirty-three

‘Corso? It’s Dakota. Can you hear me?’

Corso jerked around, astonished. For a moment he’d thought she was right there beside him, but the voice he heard had come through the Piri’s comms system.

‘I’m here, Dakota. I really, really hope you’ve got some good news.’

‘Can you activate the external cameras?’

‘I don’t know,’ Corso admitted. ‘I can’t get the Piri to respond. Where are you? Are you still down there? I’m deaf and blind up here. I have no idea what’s going on.’

‘What’s going on is that it’s a fucking miracle you’re still alive. I need you to do something. I can see from where I am that the Piri Reis is badly damaged. The cargo section and aft, right?’

‘Yeah, part of it’s been sheared off, best as I can tell. I think you’re going to be sleeping in the command module for a while.’

‘A lot of primary systems can still be controlled manually, just not very efficiently. You understand?’

‘I do.’

‘I’m on my way up, aboard one of the derelicts. I’m going to tether it to the Piri and then we can get the hell out of here.’

Corso hesitated. The idea that she had somehow succeeded was strangely difficult to accept. It was only at that moment he fully realized just how thoroughly he’d expected to die. That he might actually survive…

‘Now listen to me, Corso. There’s an extendible cable system at the back of the Piri, same stuff they use for building skyhooks. The only problem is the winch system, and how badly it got damaged during the missile impact. The Librarian thinks the cable itself might be fine, though. All I need you to do is release the cable manually, then I can take care of the rest.’

Librarian?

‘Release it how?’ he demanded.

‘You won’t need to go outside. Are the lights on-on the main console?’

‘Yeah.’

‘OK, key in this sequence.’ She recited a list of numerals and letters, and he entered them. More lights began to flash, and Corso felt a low vibration pass through the deck.

‘OK. Something happened, but I can’t tell what. Dakota… who’s this Librarian?’

‘Long story. I’ll be over there in maybe ten minutes. There’ll be time to explain later.’

Corso stared at the console. You don’t say.

The derelict shot upwards, achieving escape velocity within seconds of lifting off. Beneath, the shelf on which the derelict had sat for so very long finally collapsed into the fire far below it.

A blister formed on the Magi ship’s skin as it rose towards the Piri, which was still spinning helplessly. Once it had achieved orbit, a black figure emerged from within the blister, crouching low against the hull, peering out from amid the twisting spines.

Dakota stared out beyond the derelict’s flickering energies towards the Piri Reis, allowing the zoom on her filmsuit to pick out the cable steadily extruding from the tiny craft. Her thoughts then merged with those of the derelict, whereupon the Magi vessel altered its coarse minutely.

The derelict matched speeds with the Piri. Meanwhile the instructions Corso had already entered had caused the cables to extend from her ship. Dakota watched as the near end of the first cable slid between the spines and came towards her. She scuttled aside, watching as the cable was absorbed into the derelict’s hull.

The cable became taut, and slowly-very slowly-the Piri Reis was drawn in towards the derelict.