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“The lord of time. I have control over time. Kazi has control over justice. Isuul has control over knowledge. Dytura is in control of memories of death. He makes others like him. One per dying species.”
“So there is a Terran Dyturan?”
“Yes. According to the records, there is a woman named Skylar who is transforming into the ghost of memory for your people. The Terran Dyturan.”
“That’s neat.”
“It is. Very. You also have a seed of life. That is more exceptional. They don’t often survive, but she exists as well. She is Dytura’s mate, but he has left her to her own devices.”
“This is fascinating. Does she have a name?”
“Chloe. She and Skylar are related to Harwin. All from the same family line.”
“Wow. That’s impressive.”
“It is. Very. Seeds of life almost always die during the cataclysm.”
“Why?”
“They fall into a coma. It is easy for those around them to leave them to die or consume them. They are dead weight. She survived by luck and fortune and the kindness of those around her.”
Aya smiled. “That’s a good thing.”
“A very good thing.”
Aya looked at him and felt what she now realized was a constant contact in her mind. “So why do you want an assistant?”
“I need someone who can answer the call on the surface of sensitive worlds. You can gain the detailed information that they can’t put into words, and I will hear it and use your body to act on it. At first, we will try a more detailed mental connection, and if the load holds, we will continue on to full bonding.”
Aya paused and asked, “What does that entail?”
“Blood transfer. That is how Kazi did it. I helped him rescue his assistant, and he transfused her from his own body. You will see it when you meet her.”
“How?”
He chuckled. “Our blood is silver. It changes the eyes, and he has striking colouration that he passed along to her.”
“You know, I can hardly wait to meet her.”
He nodded. “Yes, well, for now, the processor produced this.”
He held out the fiddle and bow.
She fought tears, took it with a word of thanks, and began to tune it. When it was ready, she pulled the bow across the strings and grinned. The sound wasn’t great, but it was alright to practice on.
Aya tucked the fiddle against her body and began to play something soft and sweet. She looked at him. “Is the sound annoying?”
Devran shook his head. “There is an unexpected vibration, but it is not unpleasant. You said you can dance to this music?”
She smiled and played a jig, a few other bright and cheerful songs, and then she exhaled and set the fiddle down on her desk. She rubbed her fingertips. “I will have to build up calluses.”
“How long does that take?”
“A few weeks. I will play a little per day to toughen up my left hand.”
He nodded. “There were other styles. Did you want them?”
“As a fashion choice?” She chuckled. “Sure, but I don’t know where I would find a place to store them.”
