What? She scrambled to think of why he would say that. She looked over at the younger man, who nodded in agreement. Were they deluded, or–
"Our technology went mad," the older man continued heavily, bitterly, strength fading as he spoke. "And it turned upon us, against all of us. All we had…"
Two hundred anna, though? They couldn't have lived that long, not here. They must have been protected. Frozen in time. She was aware of techniques, but she'd never encountered them personally.
The two men were staring at her.
"You were… there?" she started, sounding more disbelieving than she wanted to. It could have been cryonic hibernation, some combination of material substitution, or other more obscure technologies that allowed them to survive. "You were suspended – both of you?"
The right guess. They both nodded.
"Yes," Kyso replied. "We were revived – near twenty anna ago."
A hundred and eighty anna then – still a very long time to be suspended. She'd heard of people enduring longer periods, but without vigilant safeguards, survival was against very high odds. Suspension was rare transitional technology. Low grades couldn't achieve it, higher didn't need it. Perhaps Makan was a special case given its tourist destination status. That would also explain why Kyso's racial appearance differed so dramatically from Traejan's – his height, darker skin, longer face, larger eyes, prominent brow.
"Can you tell us what caused it to happen?" Kyso asked. "Can you tell us why?"
Nobody knew why – but she knew what. She'd known all her life.
"The Macros came," she told them. "What they did to your world, they did to countless others, all over the galaxy."
She gave them a moment to absorb the information – to realize all this disaster wasn't just about them – wasn't just about their world.
"We still don't know why," she confessed. "But I can tell you this much. They came from the Mirror Maze. They're not physical, not like us. They are beings of motivated trinary code."
Understanding lit their eyes. They knew that trinary was the language, the intelligence, the operating basis of all Consortia technology.
"I've seen what they've done to many worlds," she continued. "You have to know – the thing that is controlling the technology on you world – it can be destroyed. You can get your tech – your world – back, if you're willing to help me do it."
Traejan's jaw dropped.
"How?" he almost shouted at her. "How can you destroy all those constructs? They control everything that isn't ice."
"It's not the individual drones that are the problem," Althea insisted, trying to maintain control over the conversation. She had to project determination, strength, or they might begin to suspect her. She needed to deal with his demands calmly, but could feel another episode coming on, staying upright was making her woozy – then she felt a sharp pain in her side.
Not now! Not again!
"It's the motive force behind them, controlling them. Destroy that, and they are all stopped."
"You make it sound easy," he challenged. "Those individual drones killed–"
"It's not," she told him, recalling, knowing, anticipating – insisting. "but I can do it. I will do it. I've done it before."
Traejan leaned back in his chair, conflict showing in his face, his posture.
"There was no one else," Kyso piped in, "in the portal chamber. Were you sent alone?"
She quickly responded – had to steer them away from that line of questioning.
"No one else made it with me. Transiting is not as safe or as reliable as it used to be." That was so true, at the very least. She made herself ask, "I'm not going to be able to use that portal again, am I?"
The men looked at each other, then Kyso shook his head.
"I can't imagine it being operable. Not after the collapse of the vault."
Althea sighed.
"Then I'm cut off from reinforcements. We intended to destroy the Macro dominating you world. I can still do it, but not on my own. Will you help?"
Kyso opened his mouth to reply, but Traejan cut him off.
"One person can't destroy all those constructs," he insisted. "A thousand people can't. We need the Consortia. What you need to do is get to another portal, re-open the Mirror Maze."
"I can't do that," she told him harshly through the pain. "The Macro could be aware of my arrival. It could be waiting to go back through the portal, back to the worlds I came from. I cannot allow that. It has to be destroyed before anyone can use a port. All of its corpore and constructs must be shut down, must be dead."
Traejan stared at her in disbelief.
"So you expect us to believe you're capable of all that? Do you know what you're saying?"
She took a deep breath, struggled against collapsing, fought the darkness beginning to creep into her peripheral vision, felt her eyes growing moist with anger, frustration. Althea turned away from him, to face Kyso.
"Did I come all this way to be interrogated like I'm a criminal?" she snapped at him. "Is this how you treat your Consortian guests?"
Kyso looked suitably alarmed.
"No! No…" He raised empty palms in a placating gesture, turned to the younger man. "Show some respect boy! She came all this way, risked her life. She's Legionary, not a damned Panaki rat."
Traejan thankfully turned to face Kyso; away from his scrutiny, Althea could relax a fraction.
"It's not possible," he countered. "With all that's happened…"
"I am a Consortian, and so are you," Althea broke in. She needed them to leave. "I think you need some time to remember what that means."
Traejan turned back to her, glaring.
"I'm tired, and… still hungry, thirsty. Please get me some more food and water," she pleaded, turned to Kyso, to his accepting, sympathetic gaze. She struggled to maintain her appearance of stability, of control. "I'll be able to offer more details, but as you can see, my recovery has a ways to go. You understand?"
Althea watched them as they left, forced a smile as Kyso looked back, nodding warmly. But the lingering, tight-lipped glance Traejan cast back chilled her.