Dinner that evening was calm and full of easy conversation, with everybody relaxed from a fulfilling day. Roisin and Matteo reminded Sam a lot of Win and Nadia, both clearly intelligent with good heads on their shoulders. They talked about how amazed and excited they were by their journey and new surroundings, and overall being ready for adventure and competition. Clearly Tar sought out a certain type of personality in his recruits.

  The exception again was Elias, who only spoke when asked a question. Even then, his responses often led to dead pauses, and it took somebody, Nadia usually, to restart the conversation.

  Elias finished his meal first and summarily left to return to his apartment.

  As soon as the door closed, Nadia read Sam’s mind and asked, “What’s his deal?”

  Matteo and Roisin both shrugged. “We don’t know. He’s been like that since we met him,” Roisin said.

  “And that was only yesterday. Roisin and I each had to travel to Belgium because it was the most central location. When we boarded the shuttle, he was there already, and he’s barely said a word since,” Matteo added.

  Nadia turned to him and rested her fist on her chin. “Huh. Sam, you like to pretend to be a psychologist. What’s your evaluation?”

  Sam shot her an annoyed look. “I’m going to ignore that dig because I have no clue and I’m happy to say so. Whatever he’s upset about though, he’ll have to figure out things real quick. Tar doesn’t seem like the patient type.”

  Roisin’s eyes widened. “You met Editor Tar?”

  “He was at our city’s store and then administered our exams. And then we met Proctor Mim too, which was unexpected. Oh right, there are two of them,” Nadia said, then held up her two index fingers and twirled them around.

  “Huh. All that appeared for me was a prerecorded hologram. Up until I got on the shuttle, I wondered whether I fell for an elaborate scam. But space is very real, so I was quickly disabused of that theory. Why do you think they met you three in person?” Roisin asked.

  “Good question. Maybe because Sam and I—” Nadia started. Underneath the table, Sam poked Nadia in the knee. She stopped speaking, her mouth hanging open. Sam hoped she’d figure out why he didn’t want her to give away too much. Roisin and Matteo waited for her to finish. “Maybe . . . because Sam and I are brother and sister. That can’t be typical.”

  She looked at Sam from the corner of her eyes, clearly irritated, and he gave her his best grateful smile. Sam worried that if people found out Tar gave them special treatment, it would cause them to treat the three of them differently. He didn’t need more of that in his life.

  #

  The next week saw new recruits continue to arrive, and the station increasingly came alive. Sam settled into a routine of exercise, meditation (sometimes joined by Win and Nadia), and exploring. Whenever he needed a break, he enjoyed casually stumbling through Central Park. Once, he came across an idyllic field in between the lake, a forest, and a prominent hill. He sat down on the soft grass and scooped up the dirt and let it run through his fingers, marveling at the ways science and nature intersected.

  As expected, the recruits came from across the planet, each from a different country, with Sam, Win, and Nadia as the only exceptions. Sam avidly listened to the stories of the others, keen to discern any patterns as to why Tar selected them. Each had varied backgrounds, whether athletes, academics, artists, or entrepreneurs-in-the-making. Some came from rich families, others from poor ones. But they all shared a common language, a subset of certain phrases, and expressions they used when describing the destinies they ascribed to themselves.

  They jointly spoke to the power of their conviction, that stubborn self-belief that with time, work, and dedication, they’d arrive at their intended destination. They attested to the depth of their passions and immovability of their goals. All of this culminated with their present circumstances. The opportunity presented by Tar may have been unexpected, but it fit. It was a natural realization of their potential, an of course, and the well-deserved fruit of their labors.

  Occasionally, Sam would be swept up in the conversation, and he’d walk away with the same feeling. The invincibility of a future already foretold. Then he’d see a glimpse of space, and the fever dream would break. They were all insignificant specks. His mother’s voice would remind him, Don’t forget yourself, Sam. Strength can never be given by others. It can only come from you.

  The last ship to arrive only had two people on board, as a third had gotten cold feet. This meant a total of thirty-three recruits. Sam recalled Tar stating he had planned for a group of thirty-two people. How did they end up one over that number despite losing someone?

  Could he and Nadia be the reason for the discrepancy? That only reinforced the necessity of keeping their biographical details to themselves. He talked it over with Nadia, and they agreed not to share any information about their mother’s illness. Win had no problem going along with it as well.

  Finally, it was the big day of Tar’s return. He’d promised a rousing welcome speech. Nervous excitement pervaded the station. Following a call from Mega, the full group of recruits bundled into the largest training room, all diligently wearing their uniforms. In line with human nature, people clustered in smaller groups of friends. Sam, Nadia, and Win stood together, the other two having an animated discussion about their meditation techniques. Seeing Elias standing on his own, Sam decided to walk over to him to say hello, but the ceiling lights dimmed and a spotlight focused on the door.

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  With a veneer of mechanical enthusiasm, Mega’s voice boomed. “Please give a round of applause for Editor Tar!”

  Sam lightly clapped his hands. The door opened, and Tar emerged, wearing his resplendent multicolored suit that shimmered as he walked. He positioned himself at the front of the room, so that the recruits formed a half-circle around him. Behind him stood Mim with her neutral expression, dressed in the same neutral tones that she wore on Earth.

  Tar took in the room and beamed. “Thank you all. It’s an immense pleasure to see the full group assembled here today. Mim and I have poured our blood, sweat, and tears to make this happen. I’m extraordinarily grateful that our efforts have borne such fruit.”

  He paused, and his expression grew more serious. “By this time, you should all have a basic understanding of why you’re here, but let’s take a minute to revisit. The galaxy we live in, the Milky Way as you call it, is vast and home to several advanced civilizations. I include my own, the Dominion of Xarlogia, among them.” He motioned behind him, and a wide-spanning image of the galaxy flickered into view, with shades of colors occupying certain sections. A good fifth belonged to a purple-colored area, tendrils of which came close to Earth, marked with a pulsing blue circle.

  “For eons, the galaxy’s only currency was war.” Tar tapped the map, and the arms of the galaxy spun as borders rapidly shifted and explosions marked endless battles. “As terrible as the violence your own species has inflicted on itself, it pales in comparison. You may be surprised to learn that those who are able to reach the pinnacle of aether use can become akin to deities, granting them a great capacity for causing death and destruction. Seeking personal glory, they mobilized immense armies and plagued the galaxy with conflict. Planets were swallowed whole, and trillions died. And for what? As soon as one faction came to reign supreme, it was inevitably torn down by the others. It was all so wasteful.” Tar sighed theatrically.

  The map became static again and pulsed between the five largest sections. “Eventually, five of the most powerful civilizations, Xarlogia included”—he pointed at the purple area—“arrived at a moment of uneasy peace. We had all just worked together to take down a cruel and capricious hegemon, the Archinimate of Ebulon, a name now steeped in infamy. For once, even our usually indefatigable generals had exhausted themselves. Even so, there was a mutual recognition that the seeds for future violence would not stay buried for long. Therefore, these five players organized a conference to hash out a solution, sending our greatest minds to attend.

  “The conference concluded that peace is a dangerous illusion. It’s the nature of organic beings to constantly seek out competition, and whenever there are winners and losers, there is conflict. The means to combat this underlying truth required a method of sating these foundational desires while avoiding the endless mayhem that characterized our relationships up to that point. One idea emerged as offering that possibility. Our five civilizations created the Starlit Arena as a means to arbitrate our differences. In Xarlogic, we call the annual competition that takes place the Ludi dex’Aurra Incandii, or the Infinite Games of Luminous Stars.”

  The grandeur of the name conjured a gold and glittering stadium, set against a backdrop of bursting nebulae. Sam shivered as he pictured himself standing in the arena, helmeted and holding his trusty staff, as the whole galaxy watched.

  Relishing the power of his oratorial delivery, Tar took a deep breath before continuing. “The Arena has proven a remarkably stable and successful means of adjudicating influence. For an up-and-coming man of business such as myself, participation in the Arena gives me the means to be present on the main stage. Profit and power may sound gaudy to you, but I make no apologies for being ambitious. Here is where you all enter the picture. I am now your patron and will enter you into this year’s upcoming iteration of the Arena. You will fight for me.” Tar interlaced his hands and flexed them together, as if showing them all now bound together.

  The forcefulness of his statement struck the room silent. Having seen this side of Tar previously, Sam took it in stride. Tar is keeping us unbalanced. The theatrics reminded Sam of a ringmaster at a circus, pivoting from feat to feat. The audience teetered—was everything under control or were they in danger?

  “Fortunately for you, I understand commerce.” Tar tapped his head and gave them a self-satisfied smile. “This is not a one-sided arrangement. You will now gain the rare and precious gift of learning how to use aether from a skilled teacher, our dear Proctor,” he gestured to Mim, “and frankly speaking, this chance would never otherwise come around during your lifetimes. It’s a priceless opportunity.”

  He strutted forward, drawing closer to those in the front row. Most of the group took a step back, and the woman in front of Sam almost stepped on his toes. Tar injected his tone with an assumed intimacy and made eye contact with those closest to him. “Are you wondering why learning how to use aether matters? During the recruitment process, I already offered you a taste of the power it provides, and we all know how seductive power can be. I doubt any of you could walk away from that at this point. However, there’s more at stake than just your individual aspirations. Thanks to my assistance, humanity will soon possess the means to cross the edge of your solar system. Doing so marks you as a spacefaring civilization, and therefore eligible to join the Liberated Collective, the governing body that oversees the Starlit Arena and ensures we all keep the peace. If Earth receives membership, you’ll earn your precious freedom.”

  The wording of the statement bothered Sam. Does that imply our freedom is otherwise not guaranteed? What was Tar leaving out?

  “Seems simple, right? Not so. Maintaining independence will come at a cost. All on your own, you won’t have access to the types of resources needed to conduct dealings with the rest of the galaxy, and you’ll be left in the dark on the proper use of aether, an invaluable tool. Like many fledgling planet-states that have come before you, Earth will remain a primitive backwater for the foreseeable future. As you languish, you will be sorely tempted to turn for help from one of your neighbors. This will not go well for you in the long run. History is littered with examples of helpless planets made into tributaries of stronger powers.”

  With a flourish, he waved his hands over the crowd. “Except now you’ll have champions who will return from far-flung environs, savvy to the ways of the Collective and masters of aether. It will be you who can usher in this new era. You will safeguard Earth and ensure your species enjoys never-ending prosperity and growth.”

  He pointed to the map again, which zoomed in on the blue circle. “Your planet now depends on you.”