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The black holes had all frittered away to nothing a long, long time ago. In the frozen darkness, Earth’s Sun still remained: a black dwarf, a perfect sphere of crystalline carbon. Across nanometers of the Sun’s surface, an ambulance conveyed Ladyclock away from the battle line. For speed, the emergency vehicle was made from a single helium nucleus. Like all servitors, it had a single purpose: get the fighter to safety. Subjectively, the journey took only an hour, but they were both exhausted when they arrived at the closest eddy. “But I—but you—there isn’t any room left—” Coiner was the