The lines of the past can easily tangle and trip us. Whether or not we can see them, these threads of history bind us all.

—NORMA CENVA, “Dissertation on the Structure of Reality,” paper submitted to Tio Holtzman on Poritrin

Another Navigator-candidate had died, and Cioba was there to supervise the body’s removal from its sealed tank.

Two male VenHold workers—among those vetted through additional security procedures after the spy, Royce Fayed, infiltrated Kolhar—attached hoses and sealed the hookups to the tank, draining away the valuable melange gas. When the diagnostics flashed green, the silent men affixed breathing masks to their faces and undogged the entry hatch. They reached inside and wrestled with the floppy, half-dissolved corpse.

Cioba watched the operation, her dark eyes flashing, but she said nothing, having been through this routine many times before. Despite the failures, however, Navigator-candidates succeeded far more often than Cioba’s fellow Sisters of Rossak, who kept attempting to achieve their own mental breakthrough and become Reverend Mothers.

Three hundred Navigator-candidates in the last year, and seventy-eight failures—but only twelve deaths. Normally, the medical monitors detected when a volunteer’s systems began to shut down, and they could rescue and revive the partially mutated person before the onset of death. A half-transformed Navigator could never become a normal human again, but they could serve VenHold research nevertheless. Their still-living brains were in some ways damaged, but in other ways superior, and the scientists in Josef’s Denali research facility learned a great deal from studying them.

Their grunts muffled behind sealed face masks, the two workers hauled out the limp corpse and laid it on the ground. The skin was pale and flabby, the skull elongated and distorted as if someone had fashioned it out of clay, then dropped it from a height. The body looked as if it had been partially boiled. These remnants would become a dissection specimen.

Together, Cioba and Josef Venport made a strong team. Josef was a dedicated man, but he looked at the numbers of failures and successes, seeing the scores as a balance sheet without concerning himself with mental esoterica. Given her Sisterhood training, though, Cioba knew that some answers regarding the advancement of the human mind were not clear-cut.

While the workers hauled off the corpse to be packaged and shipped on the next supply vessel to the Denali labs, Cioba went to the top of the rise and stood before the chamber that held Norma Cenva, isolated in her thoughts. Though Norma was Josef’s great-grandmother, Cioba also had a strong connection to the strange woman, directly back to their ties on Rossak.

Norma had begun her exotic transformation even before the birth of Karee Marques, Cioba’s ancestor, and Norma had her own genetic ties to the psychic-powered women of Rossak; her mother, Zufa Cenva, had been one of the most powerful Sorceresses.

Now, when Norma acknowledged her arrival, Cioba spoke her thoughts immediately. The woman in the tank no longer understood pleasantries and chitchat. “You have changed yourself into something more than human, Norma. I trust you’re aware that the Sisters of Rossak, including the last few Sorceresses, are also attempting to enhance themselves through drug-induced traumas, near-death encounters. Do you think there are any similarities with the Navigator transformation?”

Norma paused for a long moment. “All key advancements occur through crisis and survival. Without stress and extreme challenge, one cannot meet her potential.”

Norma had gone through the same cycle herself, starting as a brilliant but malformed young woman from Rossak, enduring a lifetime of withering disapproval from her mother; then she’d been captured and tortured nearly to death by one of the cymek Titans, an ordeal from which she emerged with incredible mental powers. Likewise, only at the verge of death had Raquella been able to summon her potent hidden abilities; she had uplifted her entire being, becoming a far superior woman to the one she had been before.

“I lose track of how much time has passed,” Norma said from her tank. “You have made me think of Rossak.”

“My two daughters are there,” Cioba said. “Your own great-great-granddaughters.”

“Granddaughters…” Norma said. “Yes, it would be nice to see them.”

Before Cioba could react, Norma Cenva’s tank began to shimmer, and a whirlwind surrounded them, a dizzying distortion. Cioba caught her breath, sucking in great gasps of air, struggling for her balance—then fighting against the altered, slightly higher gravity. She looked up and recognized the familiar cliff city, the expansive silvery-purple jungles that filled the fertile rift valleys, and the smoldering volcanoes that gave the horizon an ominous topography. Cioba tried to control her astonishment. They had appeared on an open observation balcony, one of the gathering places where the Reverend Mother would summon her acolytes … where Cioba had witnessed the funerals of more than a dozen young women who had not survived the testing through poison.

I’m back on Rossak! she thought.

Her heart swelled, and she longed to see Sabine and Candys, even Karee Marques, the grandmother who had been instrumental in raising and training Cioba through her own years of Sisterhood training. The parentage of many acolytes and Sisters was hidden, so that they could focus on training rather than family matters. However, due to her Sorceress lineage, Cioba had been treated differently.

Because Norma had whisked the two of them unceremoniously away from Kolhar, Cioba still wore the business outfit she wore during all VenHold operations, but now as she looked around, she reached up, removed her scarf, and loosened her tresses to let the long dark locks flow. At present, she looked very much like one of the powerful telepathic women whose minds had obliterated countless cymeks.

The arrival of Norma and her large tank was quickly noticed, and soon Sisters crowded to the gathering balcony. Cioba identified herself to those who didn’t recognize her immediately. Norma didn’t seem to understand or notice the fuss.

Cioba raised her voice. “We are here because Norma Cenva has offered to give advice on the Reverend Mother transformations. She may be able to draw parallels with the Navigators she helps create on Kolhar.”

Reverend Mother Raquella hurried up, accompanied by Karee Marques. Cioba’s grandmother was dressed in a white worksuit stained with patches of purple, red, and blue from the berries, leaves, and fungi she encountered when foraging in the lower levels of the jungle.

“Rossak has changed much … and little,” Norma said through her tank speakers.

Karee couldn’t stop smiling at Cioba. “You have met all expectations, Granddaughter. Many of our graduate Sisters have gone on to join noble families as wives or advisers—but you have cemented the Sisterhood’s hold in the Imperium’s largest conglomerate.”

“Yes, it was an excellent business decision.” It had been a calculated choice between Reverend Mother Raquella and Josef Venport, but Cioba felt a real pride in her family and in the power and influence of Venport Holdings.

Cioba’s two young daughters hurried in, bursting with excitement but struggling to act with the sedate demeanor they had been taught. Cioba could not hide her joy. She widened her arms and pulled Sabine and Candys into an embrace.

“I know you’re both doing well. You will make the Reverend Mother and the whole Sisterhood proud.” With Sorceress genetics from both the Marques and Cenva bloodlines, not to mention the political influence of the Venport family, these girls had a superb future.

The Reverend Mother watched the interaction with a cool frown. Cioba noted that when Sister Dorotea joined the gathering, Raquella turned pointedly away from her. “We try not to encourage or remind our acolytes of their family ties,” the old woman said.

But Cioba faced her. “In many cases that is true, Reverend Mother, but these are the daughters and eventual heirs of Josef Venport, the granddaughters of Sorceresses. They are required to know who they are, and who they are expected to be.”

Surprising them, Norma Cenva spoke up through the speakerpatch, reminding them of the draconian Sorceress Zufa Cenva, who had heaped so much disappointment upon her own stunted daughter. “Sometimes not knowing your mother can be a great advantage.”