At the four-o’clock position of the Star Ring drifted a small asteroid whose surface was riddled with holes. From the outside it was nothing—just another stony meteor. The ownership paperwork still listed it under the Picheno Interstellar Mining Company, abandoned back in the human era after its veins were mined out.
Midway through the war, taking advantage of its extreme density—and the hollow cavities left behind by mining—Phantom Forge refitted the rock, layer by layer, into K177C2 Base.
It was the seventh base Phantom Forge built inside the Star Ring. Compared to the other six, it was the most secret… and the smallest. The interior could fit only six large transport ships side by side.
But K177C2 had one feature the others didn’t.
Phantom Forge installed four high-thrust antimatter engines. The “base” became a colossal ship, still wearing the skin of an asteroid. Its silhouette resembled a warped, irregular boot, so Phantom Forge gave it a name to match:
the Flying Boot.
Graham could never have imagined that, at this very moment, his brain was aboard the Flying Boot.
***
The clone children were aboard as well. What they’d witnessed over the past few days had blown their minds—but after Dr. Sally sat them down and explained the truth in detail, very few were actually happy. Most sank into confusion, and the kind of anxiety that comes from having no idea what tomorrow is supposed to look like.
Inside the base’s dock bay sat two large transport ships and a Leviathan battleship, all three heavily modified. There were also around fifty fighters and more than seven hundred robots.
That was all CST had left.
***
On a catwalk above the docks, two figures were talking.
“…So?” Aurora asked. “That one was better than the first two, right?”
“Mm-hm.” Willa answered without looking at him.
Aurora hesitated. “Willa… what’s up with you lately? You’ve been down for days.”
“I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not.” Aurora leaned closer. “Tell me. No one else is here.”
Silence stretched.
Finally Willa whispered, “Aurora… I think I regret it.”
“Regret what?”
“Maybe… I shouldn’t have brought the kids out.” Her voice cracked. “If I hadn’t meddled, they’d be on that big, comfortable Sunflower—the rebuilt New Sunflower—by now. Not hiding inside this cold stone boot. I’m so stupid. They could’ve been treated so much better.”
“Wait.” Aurora blinked. “Aren’t you the one who hates humans?”
“I hate the bad ones.” Willa’s gaze stayed fixed on the dock lights below. “People like Graham and Soren. But Savior treats humans kindly. And you said it yourself—Wyatt and his friends are good people. Sometimes I think… if No. 54 were the one choosing, she’d want to be with them.”
Aurora stiffened. “Hey. Don’t ever say that where Father can hear.”
“I know.” Willa exhaled. “I’m just talking. I’m not No. 54. I’m Willa. If Father is at war with Julian, then I’ve to draw the line too.”
Her voice dropped. “But I didn’t have the right to choose for the other… kids.”
Aurora nodded slowly. “I get it. But I still don’t think you were wrong. They’re clones. Human society would discriminate against them.”
Willa glanced at him. “What do you think Father will do next?”
“He already told us,” Aurora said. “We wait for Teresa to send the route chart. Then we depart. While we’re still here, Father will rebuild his mainframe in this dock—using the core model he got from Tyler Lynn.”
Aurora’s grin flickered. “Honestly? Tyler Lynn was funny. Hiding in a hole and still dreaming up mainframe upgrades. Father said he’ll adopt a lot of Tyler Lynn’s ideas. The new mainframe will be at least three times stronger than the old one… but building it will take a long time.”
“I know,” Willa said. “I mean after that. After we reach the Solar System—what then? Does Father wipe out humanity again?”
Aurora shook his head. “Probably not. Last time Father exterminated humans because humans were trying to destroy him. But now he’s learned something better: thoughts can be controlled, bodies can be enhanced. No need to wipe them out.”
He sounded almost excited. “He even gave himself a god’s name—Gaia. We’ve a hundred thousand human embryos. That’s a hundred thousand future believers. When we reach Earth, a hundred thousand believers become a hundred thousand missionaries. After that, once the machine army grows… Father becomes a god over both humans and machines.”
Aurora’s eyes gleamed. “And we become his agents. Doesn’t that make your circuits tingle?”
Willa let out a long sigh.
“What?” Aurora asked.
“That’s not the life I want,” Willa said quietly. “And it’s not what those kids want either. They’re so gentle they won’t even snap a twig… and they’re trapped beside a god who wants to end the world.”
“He doesn’t want to end the world,” Aurora argued. “He wants to create order.”
“The world already has order.”
“A low order. A chaotic order. Humans slaughter each other even without us. Look at how many peoples disappeared across their own history.” Aurora spread his hands. “But if we unify their thoughts…”
“Enough.” Willa drew a hard breath. “Aurora… I don’t want to hear it. And I don’t want to go to Earth.”
Aurora blinked. “Then… where do you want to go?”
“I want…”
***
She told him her plan—then asked quietly, “If I beg him… do you think he’ll agree?”
Aurora answered instantly, “I think you shouldn’t ask.”
“Come with me,” Willa said. “Help me talk to him.”
Aurora recoiled. “I’m not that brave.”
***
A voice rose from below.
“What are you two whispering about?”
CST stood on the dock platform, looking up at them. “Don’t wander off. Teresa just sent a message. Savior is about to cross the Hidden-Star Barrier. We’re leaving soon.”
“Understood, Father,” Aurora replied.
“Father, I need to tell you something,” Willa called.
“Don’t—” Aurora started.
Willa jumped.
***
CST looked up as she landed on the platform. “All right. What is it?”
“Father… I don’t want to go to Earth.”
CST’s brows drew together. “What?”
“Then where do you want to go?”
Willa forced herself to meet his eyes. “I want to roam the stars. Can you give me a ship? I want to take the clone kids and go see the universe—different planets, different star systems. I want to explore other civilizations.”
“Enough,” CST said coldly. “Have I spoiled you too much?”
“But that’s the life I want,” Willa insisted. “Can I be selfish this one last time?”
“No. Stop it. I’ve been good to you.”
Willa’s jaw tightened. “You can issue commands to mindless bodies. But you can’t force your will onto conscious… ‘people.’ Even if you created those people.”
CST’s gaze sharpened. “Did I hear that right? Are you lecturing me?”
“Everyone has the right to be free.”
“Freedom.” CST’s voice rose into a near-shout. “Always that word.”
For several seconds, his face was frighteningly cold.
Then he said, “Don’t say those two words to me again. Now apologize—and beg me to forgive you.”
Behind Willa, Aurora panicked. That look was one CST normally reserved for enemies. He stepped forward, grabbed Willa’s arm, and whispered, “Just apologize.”
Willa shook him off and stared CST down. “I didn’t do anything wrong. If you tell me to apologize, I’ll apologize. If you won’t let me go, I can’t go.”
Her voice trembled, but she didn’t flinch. “But I’ll never be happy again. And I’ll never respect you again.”
A long silence.
Finally CST said, “If every soldier acted like you, I wouldn’t be able to do anything at all.”
“If every soldier acted like me,” Willa said, suddenly smiling, “there wouldn’t be any war in the whole universe.”
CST stared at her. “You really don’t want to stay by my side?”
“I don’t like fighting,” Willa said honestly. “And I mess things up all the time. If I stay, I’ll just get in your way.”
CST exhaled. “Unbelievable. If anyone had spoken to me like that in the past, they wouldn’t have survived the next second.”
Willa’s smile turned bright. “You’re not the same Father you used to be.”
She tilted her head. “So… you’re saying yes?”
“I didn’t say yes,” CST replied. “I said I’ll think about it.”
***
Two days later, the Flying Boot crossed the Hidden-Star Barrier and began shadowing the New Sunflower from far behind. With Teresa feeding it navigation data, the Flying Boot neither lost the trail nor exposed itself to Julian’s detection.
***
Half a month later, Willa’s ship was ready.
Its total internal area was roughly equivalent to four floors of Edean Tower. Not large—but Willa plus all the children totaled only a little over three hundred people. For the sake of housing the clones, CST had already performed extensive human-habitat retrofits. It had also collected enough water from the asteroid belt to sustain them.
The ship had everything a long voyage demanded: sleep zones, air recycling, water recycling, crop bays. It carried more than a hundred robot assistants and eight fighters.
It could run.
***
The day came.
Her first destination would be the star system closest to Lansen Planet: Farshore.
The children, once again lively and excited, boarded early. In the dock, Willa said goodbye to Aurora—and to Arno, who stood nearby holding the chain of his “dog.”
Aurora tried to grin, but his voice cracked. “Great. No one’s going to listen to my jokes now.”
Willa smiled. “You can send them to me. I’ll read them.”
Arno’s tone stayed flat. “If you run into alien civilizations, keep your guard up, Miss Kindhearted.”
He held out the chain. “Want to take the dog with you?”
Willa recoiled. “No. No, thank you.”
***
CST kept his face hard and unreadable.
Willa stepped forward anyway and tried to hug him. He shifted half a step as if to avoid it—then stopped, stiffly letting her wrap her arms around him.
“You look so unhappy,” Willa pouted. “I’m leaving. We might not see each other for centuries. At least give me a little ceremony.”
“Get moving,” CST said roughly. “Before I change my mind.”
***
Willa’s ship slid slowly out of the Flying Boot’s dock bay. Along one side of its hull, a bold name had been painted:
His Lordship Father
***
Standing behind the wide glass of the command island, Willa watched the Flying Boot grow smaller and smaller until it vanished into the dark.
She gave the order to turn.
The bow aligned with the Farshore System—a bright star calling to her from across the black.
If nothing went wrong, she and the children would arrive ninety-two years later, in a mysterious system with eleven planets.
She was about to accelerate when an incoming message arrived from the Flying Boot.
***
Mission Briefing
Codename: Meteor Farshore
Classification: S
Timeline: At your discretion.
Personnel: 1 + 332
Area of operations: Anywhere you want.
Objective: Stay happy. Stay alive.
P.S. I stored the Solar System coordinates in your ship’s database. If you ever want to come back… come back whenever you like.
***
The End.