Emerging from the building that had been her prison for almost her entire time on the Angelship, Sam had to squint against noonday brightness. The kinetic force levitating her relented as her feet contacted the cement in front of the steel building that still held Jess. Before her stretched a length of parkland hosting green grass, dwarf fruit trees, and playing children.

Looking up, Sam noted that the light came from a brilliant tube at the apex of the cavernous valley they stood within. Cassandane’s voice startled her. “It’s a magnetic induction lamp using a mixture of gases. The lack of an electrode would give the light tube an extreme lifespan even if it were not considered a core component of the Angelship.”

Sam turned to appraise her heroine. Cassandane stood taller than average for a woman, fit with a boxy frame and stiff posture. The patchwork dappling of brown and white across her skin proved as disconcerting as ever, but Sam didn’t detect any hostility. “Why is it called an Angelship? Is it just the size compared to the rest of the fleet?”

Cassandane pursed her lips. “The truest answer is because the Chekowan called it that. I don’t know what, if anything, you have heard about our enemy. The Chekowan were a people who crossed the void of space but had no concept of a computer or DNA. They conquered a world with superior technology using talents and a ship they claimed had been given to them by strange gods they call outsiders. According to those primitive people, the core of this vessel is an angel. I suspect that is a mischaracterization of the ship’s autonomous intelligence, but it’s hard to know for sure. The Angelship uses the talents on a massive scale, something far beyond what a simple computer can do.”

“Ayla told me you took over the Angelship.” Sam bit her lip, not sure if the topic would cause the woman to clam up.

“Five of us posed as hydroponics technicians to get on board and then murdered every other human life we encountered.” Cassandane shook her head. “They call us saviors for that act of terrorism because our Earth died and this became the new home of the Angmari. They revile the Chekowan as monsters for sacrificing another people to their ambitions while plotting the same sins. If these weren’t already my people, I would never choose to claim them as mine own.”

Sam stared at the woman. She had answered every question without hesitation so far. “What do you want from me?”

“Only what you have already done. The existence of an English paragon will force policy changes.”

“So what now for me?”

“I guard your life until the danger has passed. I provide some training as compensation for the circumstances I’ve placed you in. When the time comes, you will make your own way without me. I hope the fleet will retain you as a kinetic resource. They would be foolish to do anything else.”

Around them, the flow of foot traffic increased, parting around Cassandane. A hapless man looked up late and danced sideways to avoid the woman. Cassandane jerked her head to the side and led Sam up the street. They went three blocks, crossed a bridge to traverse a pond, then floated up to a ledge several stories up a steel skyscraper. A door opened without being touched and they went inside.

Cassandane gestured to the space before them. “Your new home. Don’t get too comfortable, we’re making a shuttle run in three hours.”

The majority of the space consisted of a large, sparsely furnished room. The back wall held two partially open doors. The one on the left had a bathroom in it while the other had clothing on shelves. Otherwise, the space held a few floor cushions, a hammock in the corner, a desk with a tablet computer, and a lamp with an unusually wide and tall base. As Sam approached the lamp, Cassandane spoke.

“It lowers a suspended weight to generate a small amount of electricity to power the LED. I can also plug the tablet into it for charging.” Cassandane gestured around the space. “We’ll have to get you a cot. Maybe a tablet too.”

Sam considered the bare room for only a moment. “Cassandane? Do you know why the stars changed?”

“According to the Navigator, the fabric of the universe is being rewritten to host human civilizations who we are supposed to expose to the talents.”

“Oh, just like that?” Sam laughed.

Cassandane stared off to one side. “We have reason to believe that the origin of the change is the home system of the Chekowan people. Our observations of the star changes match the claims made by the Chekowan of their world being ground zero. The inevitable conclusion is that both of our worlds are recent creations superimposed upon the fabric of this universe. Perhaps the Chekowan are the only legitimate humans that exist, while the rest of us are constructs. I don’t particularly like the idea that every moment of my life prior to the star change never happened.”

“So the simulation theory people are right,” Sam said. “We’re living in a computer simulation.”

“Given the complexity of the universe, I doubt that.”

Sam raised a brow. “Who says our universe is complex? It’s all relative, right? Maybe the real universe has twenty dimensions. Or even multiple time dimensions. Our universe could be trivially easy to simulate on their hardware. This might all be a MMORPG.”

“A what?”

“A massively multiplayer online role-player game. And we’re all non-player characters.”

Cassandane stared at her. “That is a discomforting thought. Worse even than the Chekowan explanation of gods and outsiders.”

“Can you tell me anything about these outsiders?”

“According to the mythology of the Chekowan, the universe exists as the mental projection of a singular god. One on the cusp of waking up and ending the dream we call reality. Foreign gods invaded to prevent that from happening and allied themselves with humanity for reasons never specified. The sole religious obligation these outsiders demand is to spread the talents.” Cassandane’s lips quirked into an ironic half-smile. “The Navigator, when it gives any information, tends to support the Chekowan religion. Whether that indicates evidence for their views or proof that they were misled no one can say.”

Sam started to ask about the level of Angmari technology, but Cassandane cut her off. “I cannot fault you for being curious, but I need time to make arrangements. Please occupy yourself with some simple talent exercises until it is time to go.”

The woman sat down on the floor cushion before the low desk and began to tap at the screen of the tablet. After a moment, Sam reached out to the hole in her mind and pulled forth precursor.