They put their suitcases down, and Wendell recommenced the tour. It took some time to exit the residential area, which took up a sizable chunk of the station. Not surprising since each recruit would be given a private apartment. It seemed inefficient, if highly generous, and Sam suspected that Tar sought to impress the recruits with his largesse.

  They stopped by a library, a recreation room, and a gym, all accessible at any time. The sight of a basketball court surprised and pleased Sam. A little bit of home that would be of comfort to him.

  In response to a question from Win, Wendell shared that the library had some books they might find helpful in their training.

  They turned a corner and entered what Sam guessed to be a mess hall, given the rows of tables and the serving area.

  “Of course, we’ll keep you fed. Mind you, the droids aren’t great cooks, but the food is serviceable. You can collect vegetables and fruits from the garden in the Central Park if you like and prepare them in your apartment. No meat, I’m afraid, though we have substitutes available. I know you humans are fond of it, but the Xarlogics don’t eat it and won’t tolerate having it in their domiciles.”

  “How forward-thinking,” Win suggested.

  “Not especially, it’s not for ethical reasons. They say it messes up their precious metabolism.” Wendell threw his hands up dismissively, as if the secrets of the Xarlogics’ long lives were comparable to a diet fad.

  Nadia spoke up. “Engineer Wendell—”

  “No title please. Just Wendell is fine.”

  “Okay. This may be a little straightforward, but what kind of alien are you?”

  Wendell’s ever-present smile flipped itself into a frown. “What was that?”

  “Actually, never mind, forget I asked,” Nadia stammered.

  Wendell grunted, took a breath, and his expression relaxed. “Sorry, translation issues. Happens sometimes. Thought you called me a . . . I think the word would be cockroach. Some version of them exists on every planet. But getting back to your question, my world of origin is called Prixyt, and generally you can call my people by that same name. We’re a close neighbor to the Xarlogic homeworld and have been part of their—or the, I should say—Dominion for almost our entire known history.”

  Win was taking in every word. “That’s fascinating. I’d love to learn more about your world sometime.”

  “Aye, I’d be happy to tell you, but I can’t say you’ll have much extra time to be chatting with me, at least once things get going. Here now, I’ll point out the training rooms, but you can enter on your own later. For now, I want to show you the best place in Sanctum.”

  After they exited the mess hall, a plastic, hovering cylinder came up behind them. Its surface was completely smooth, other than a dark band that circled the top and a pair of grasping tools that extended from its sides. It seemed a bit like a floating, futuristic trash can, but Sam kept that thought to himself.

  It chirped at them in what sounded like an inquiry.

  Wendell looked back. “Ah, one of our service droids. Mega, care to say hi?”

  The droid tilted forward in a mock bow and vocalized, “Hello, I am a friendly moving robot, designated unit 429. I’m just going about my day, seeing to the needs of the station.”

  Wendell tilted his head back and laughed uproariously. Sam wondered just how long Tar and Mim had been away from the station.

  After Wendell calmed down, he explained. “The droids are all extensions of Mega and won’t normally interact with you. If you need anything, just address Mega directly. It can hear you from all parts of the station.”

  Win raised his hand furtively. “How capable is Mega exactly?”

  Wendell smirked and didn’t skip a beat in responding. “There’s no sense keeping your voice down. I can guess the reason for your question, and there’s nothing to worry about. It’s a known fact that most spacefaring nations have dealt with artificial intelligence run amok. Get a Wjyyr and a Metraxis together, and oh, boy, they’d have some stories to tell you. But don’t worry, we all work together now to monitor and suppress rogue AI. So no, as fond of it as I am, Mega is simply a program, though I have added some human personality coding to help you all feel more at home.”

  Sam rubbed the sweat off his forehead. “That is good news. The galaxy seems complicated enough as it is.”

  Wendell chuckled. “You don’t know the half of it.”

  They soon arrived at a more heavyset, secure door with a bold-lettered sign next to it that read Warning: Entrance Requires Decontamination.

  “We’ll only be able to go in one at a time. Decontamination is innocuous, just a quick pulse of radiation to eliminate any germs that would affect the environment inside. Nadia, we’ll start with you.”

  One by one they entered, Sam going third with Wendell behind him. He stepped into a small chamber. The walls sparkled unnaturally, and the unflattering glare of the overhead light reminded Sam of changing rooms at a mall clothing store. At least this room held no mirrors.

  Mega’s voice sounded out. “Please hold. Be advised that the procedure is harmless.”

  The room briefly filled with a quick-moving particulate, similar to steam. It glommed onto Sam’s skin, and he braced himself for pain, but instead it felt like a warm shower. He instinctively held his breath, but the moisture entered his nose instead. It smelled and tasted like chlorine-laced pool water, and Sam barely kept from gagging.

  “You may exit.”

  Feeling wobbly, he opened the door on the other side of the chamber. Instead of another hallway, an enormous spectrum of green greeted him, bathed in bright daylight. The temperature, akin to that of a crisp late-spring day, gave him goosebumps. Foliage was interspersed throughout, including a mixture of mature oaks, elms, and beech trees that provided ample shade. Gently sloping hills shaped the landscape, and around the corner of one, Sam spotted the beginning of a pale blue lake, abutted by a sandy beach. A few droids casually made their way around the habitat, carefully pruning and manicuring.

  Stolen story; please report.

  Wendell emerged from the doorway, wearing a grin as wide as his face. “Welcome to my pride and joy, known as Central Park. I’m sure you saw it on your approach, it makes up about half of the station. Studies show that access to greenery is crucial for happiness amongst all living things. It cost a pretty penny to build this, but Tar agreed to spring for it to help ease your transition. He made the right choice.”

  He gestured to a map and a signpost, standing in front of a dirt path. “Like your version on Earth, there are a few hidden surprises. You should poke around when you get a chance.”

  “This is amazing, Wendell,” Sam said.

  “Aren’t you a robotics engineer? You created this?” Win asked.

  Wendell’s head bobbed with enthusiasm. “Gardening is my second love. Keeping an ecosystem like this in equilibrium takes a lot of work and planning. Everything has to be just right. It’s similar to engineering but without the explosions if you make a mistake. I find it relaxing.”

  “So I take it none of the surprises will blow us up?” Nadia asked.

  “I didn’t say that.”

  #

  Wendell ended the tour by showing them the location of his office (“Just knock if you need me.”) and the wing where Tar and Mim had their living area and offices (“Eh, don’t bother, they won’t answer.”). Sam had a decent sense of direction and could tell they hadn’t accounted for about a quarter of the station yet. When asked, Wendell patted his shoulder and said it was “power systems and station defense” and wouldn’t explain further.

  The hallway lights dimmed and yellowed in an approximation of evening, and Wendell led them back to their apartment. Before leaving, he handed them their access devices as promised, which were thin black bands that fit snugly over their wrists.

  The absence of Wendell’s expansive presence left Sam to dwell on his new reality. He’d departed Earth only just that morning and now lived in an extraplanetary artificial environment. The most bizarre aspect of it all? The sense of comfort and ease that had accumulated throughout the day. He’d expected the station to be outlandish and disorienting, but its designer clearly knew how to meet human sensibilities. Tar was a professional.

  He chatted distractedly with the other two for a bit, but it was easy to tell that they were all exhausted and needed time to digest the day on their own, and they soon retired to their rooms. Lying on his plush bed, Sam sent an email to his mother to assure her the journey had gone smoothly. He then pulled out the drawing pad he had brought with him and sketched for a little while, trying to recreate some of the wonders he had seen. He eventually fell into a dreamless, heavy sleep.

  During breakfast the next morning, Mega confirmed that the next batch of recruits would be arriving the next day. With just one day to themselves, they each decided to pursue different plans. Nadia chose to explore Central Park and practice her “noticing” and asked the droids to pack her a picnic. Win retired to their apartment to take time to write to his grandparents. They’d parted on lukewarm terms, and he was hoping to help them better understand his decision.

  Sam, on the other hand, sought out the training rooms. Might as well get a leg up.

  He entered a cavernous room with high vaulted ceilings and padded walls. At one end, small devices were embedded in the floor in a wide circle, giving the impression of a circus ring. Sitting in the middle of the circle felt presumptuous, but it wasn’t like anybody else was there to comment.

  He chose to focus on the other part of Mim’s instructions, meditation.

  Besides one time when an assistant coach attempted to lead a session, which ended in most of the players snoring, Sam had never seriously meditated before. The idea of it seemed somewhat contrived. Close your eyes, breathe slowly, and unlock inner peace. Could it really be so simple?

  But the experience of the exam stuck with him. He remembered the feeling of his thoughts being denied, of that all-encompassing forced emptiness. It hadn’t felt scary or strange. Instead, it reminded him of various times in his life. He recalled those moments during basketball games when he acted out of pure instinct, his mind taking second fiddle to the muscles of his body. Those were the times he played the best, like a machine but with joy.

  Or when he sketched and looked up and evening had fallen. He became immersed in creating the image he held in his mind’s eye. He didn’t think about it, he just drew, and the act gave him contentment. Put another way, it reminded him of those first few minutes when you wake up from a nap, wrapped in blissful warmth.

  That same feeling had happened again when he faced Auroch. He had grasped that the key to using aether as active energy required a state of stillness.

  Now, he hoped to duplicate that state of mind. If he had managed it during a moment of great stress, surely he could do so now while under no pressure at all. He closed his eyes, and he began to breathe slowly. This went on for a few minutes.

  To his chagrin, his thoughts abounded. Has this all been a dream? How is Ma doing? What is Tar up to? They kept coming. He’d fight off one line of thought and another would pop up to replace it. He felt like an ant trying to climb a mountain. And this was while sitting in an empty room, alone.

  His frustration crested, and he stood up in agitation. He paced the room, but no solution presented itself. Fine. He would go to the gym, find something to distract him, and then try again.

  Except. A point that had nagged at him coalesced into realization. He was an ant. An ant now in the middle of space, only a thin sheet of alien-made wall away from a quick death. Then what? Then all of this didn’t matter.

  He felt himself shudder but also calm. There was strength in that understanding. If this didn’t matter, if he could die at any second, then maybe it would be okay to let his mind rest. His mind already did so, so much. It could take a break.

  And so he sat. Time passed.

  His eyelids grew heavy, and he started to feel sleepy, but a familiar sensation stopped him. Eyes still closed, he realized that a mote of energy floated in front of him. It beckoned him like before. He held out his hand, and it danced along his palm.

  Curiously, his mind didn’t explode with a thousand different thoughts. Instead, he remained intent on the mote of energy. As if being fed, it spread and grew bigger.

  Something stung him. He opened his eyes and saw little bolts of electricity crackle between his fingers. Despite the pain, they didn’t burn or scar him. He let his hand relax, and the bolts discharged.

  A voice above startled him. “Well done, Sam. You’ve gained mastery of the first step of The Path. This, in turn, enhanced your insight into the second step. The Editor will be pleased.”

  “Uh, thanks, Mega? It’s a little creepy that you’ve been watching me this whole time.” He pointedly stared at the ceiling.

  “I am unable to discern the meaning of the word ‘creepy’ in this context.”

  “I mean that it’s uncomfortable to be watched without knowing it.” He sighed, recognizing he was wasting his time. “Forget it. But wait, I thought I already reached the second step. How am I still making progress on the first one?” He paused as another question occurred to him. “Also, as an AI, how do you know about this?”

  The voice took a second to respond. “I will answer your second question to start with. Due to my role in administering the entrance exams, I was provided programming enabling me to gauge and assess progress on the first phase of The Path, the Legion stage. I have incomplete information regarding your first question, but it is understood that The Path is not linear. You can continue to make progress on different steps simultaneously.”

  Sam replied, “Okay, I see. No, I lied, I don’t really, but that is still helpful to know. Thank you, Mega.”

  “You’re welcome, Ascendant-to-be Azza.”

  Sam wanted to ask about the use of the title but figured he’d get a cryptic response and so he let it go.

  Rather than repeat the earlier exercise, he let his mind meander. Thinking about the thin barrier between him and death had helped the discovery process but also left him disturbed.