for a dramatic show, for legitimacy and control. We need to learn what this new Administrator values, and we will know her weakness.”
A new elder stepped forward, wearing a deep-purple thawb and wrinkles that seemed almost familiar to Ari. “Forgive me, but I must know. You stepped into the past and lived there for some time. How did you return to this future without disrupting the time continuum?”
Ari glanced at Val, who cast his eyes downward over the loss of Lam, no doubt. “We were careful. And we had a sort of… map from the future that made it possible. Also, one of us stayed behind to make sure the story remained the same.”
Jordan surprised everyone, speaking in a booming voice. “Of course, some things changed anyway.” All of them spun to face her. “I speak of CamelotTM.”
“Excuse me?” Gwen asked. “What are you talking about?”
“As far as I can tell, the only thing that has changed since we went to the past is Mercer’s theme park on Old Earth’s moon.”
“Mercer’s what?” Val asked.
“Old Earth’s moon is full of weird colonies named after the old vehicular gods,” Ari said.
“Not in this time line,” Jordan said, crossing her arms over her massive chest. “It’s an entertainment facility. They released a new ad just this morning, an aggressive one, too. It pushed through all the pop-up blockers on Error.”
“Run it,” Gwen demanded.
One of the elders drew interesting circles on the round stone table, calling up a hologram advertisement that reached the height of the ceiling and boomed sound throughout the amphitheater. The incandescent blue made them all wince.
Ari beheld the glowing image of a sword half-sheathed in moon rock. “What the—”
“Come one, come all to King Arthur’s court…” an old-timey voice bellowed, “… at CamelotTM! Where all your Old Earth dreams come true!”
Ari swore exquisitely.
The commercial zoomed out, showing off the surface of a familiar gray moon—now cluttered with some abominable hybrid of the actual Camelot, Lionel, and Mercer’s knack for selling everything. The commercial flashed a series of aerial shots. Of gift shops and rides—and employees wearing medieval garb.
“It’s a demented amusement park!” Val exclaimed. “How tacky.”
Gwen gasped. “Those are my people. Look! They’re being forced to work there!” The Lionelians seemed to be perfectly framed in the ad, their suffering unsuccessfully masked by sparkling filters.
Ari squeezed Gwen’s hand. “It’s a trap. That’s why they released the ad today. They must know we’re back somehow, and they want us to come. To try to save your people.”
The ad continued. “And as a grand finale to your stay in the land of medieval dreams…”
“I just threw up in my mouth,” Val muttered.
“… try your hand at the Sword in the Stars. Pull it free and become the new Mercer Administrator! You could be the next king of the cosmos!”
Ari lost her breath. The hologram focused on a sword, showing dozens of people trying to lift it free while triumphant music blared. The commercial zoomed in until the sword was the only thing visible. It radiated light in a way that felt beyond anything Mercer could manufacture.
“Doesn’t even look like Excalibur,” Val noted. “Morons.”
“That’s because it isn’t Excalibur. This is a different sword,” Ari said, tingling all over as she stepped forward, drawn in.
“That sword has been lodged in the rock of the moon since humans first pioneered space,” one of the Ketchan elders said. “It’s always been there. Mercer has just capitalized on it. Built around it like a fortress.”
“They did,” Ari murmured, pulling herself closer to the ad. Why a Mercer stronghold on this small moon?
“Pause!” She stepped so close that she was face-to-face with the hologram of the sword. Her eyes trailed the hilt to the spot where she’d first read the name of Arthur’s famed blade.
She pointed to the finely etched word. “This sword is Kairos.”
Merlin stepped out of the portal and onto the edge of the lake. It had the same surface as ever: silver and gleaming, like a weapon polished and ready. But it also looked different than it had in the time of Camelot. Less defined at the edges, streams running to and away from it in all directions.
Avalon crouched in the mists on the far side, though Merlin didn’t know if they called it Avalon yet—he had gone that far back. The air was heavy with the cries of birds.
At first, he didn’t hear the woman screaming.
She had waded into the shallows, her hair like pale weeds, a man trudging next to her, carrying an