The Dark Matter Investigation Team Star Map Draftsman II: Fate of the Galaxy

After sending Stacean Lucius back to the Solar System, they first met with the scientists dispatched by Minister Zhou Qing. Everything went even more smoothly than Dawn Lucius had anticipated. As soon as the scientists arrived, they set about establishing laboratories, enlisting the Solar System’s own scientists in the work of building spaceships, and broadcasting the materials they had brought across the entire system. For the first time, this Level Zero civilization learned about the other, more advanced civilizations of the Orion Arm—how they lived, how they thrived.

Naturally, questions abounded. They wondered what the energy-based Datheon looked like, and why they had vanished from the galaxy. They marveled at whether Star Bridges could connect to other spiral arms or galaxies—whether, for instance, they might one day visit the Perseus Arm. They pondered the ancient-sounding title of Star Map Draftsman, and why it was necessary to detonate newborn stars to reduce dark matter. And the children, of course, were curious: did the inhabitants of other civilizations have giant heads and gray bodies?

None of the visiting scientists were ever made to feel unwelcome—a fact that owed much to Katherine’s efforts. Like Dawn Lucius, she possessed the unshakable conviction of an engineer; perhaps it was in her blood. Katherine sorted and categorized the materials the scientists had brought, weaving them seamlessly into the Solar System’s existing body of knowledge to maximize their accessibility. But she knew, as did everyone else, that knowledge alone was not enough to carry a civilization to the stars. To journey far, one needed both transportation and a place to land—and those were the Solar System’s greatest obstacles.

Dawn Lucius and Sandra attended the meetings organized by Stacean Lucius, where the primary focus was the people’s health. The nuclear war that had devastated the Solar System’s green home had left festering scars on the entire civilization, scars that time would never fully heal. Life on the ruins of that apocalypse was never easy, never peaceful. The crops cultivated in laboratories had lost their original nutritional value, and newborn children were already showing signs of severe malnutrition. The Mars Ring had been upgraded time and again, yet it could never replicate another Earth. As the days stretched on, bleak and hopeless, the people of the Solar System began to realize that the once-blue planet they had lost was truly one of a kind in the universe.

Autumn would once have brought relief from the scorching sun, triggering changes in animals and plants alike—rows upon rows of ginkgo trees turning golden, day by day; people strolling along the curbs, savoring the gifts of the season. But such scenes now existed only in the tattered pages of ancient art books. Not even video archives preserved those simple, genuine beauties of the past. It was not that the people did not yearn for them; it was that the harsh reality of their unattainable desire was like a grain of sand in a shoe, a constant, nagging ache with every step.

“Yes, he did. Even though he was only this tall back then, he truly lived through those days.” After a marathon of meetings, Katherine gathered everyone together. They chatted animatedly for a while, then leaned back in their chairs, finally allowing themselves to relax. When Katherine asked Dawn Lucius if her father, Stacean Lucius, had really lived in the era of the green Earth, Dawn raised his hand to chest height—Stacean had been a little over four years old then, already a tiny, determined man.

“Besides the green plants, what else was there?” Katherine asked with a smile, pressing for more details.

“Birds. I remember them vividly,” Dawn replied.

“What did they look like?” Katherine set down her cup, her eyes fixed on Dawn, full of wonder.

“The ones I saw most often were about this big.” Dawn held his hands up in front of his chest, measuring a small distance. He lowered his hands and went on. “But there were bigger ones and smaller ones too. My father had a large courtyard back then, with five huge trees—this thick around.” He gestured again, indicating a massive trunk. “Except on the hottest or coldest days, those trees were always full of birds. They’d start singing at dawn, each with a different voice. Some calls sounded like a single word, others like two. I remember the cuckoos—they could even change their pitch… Anyway, all kinds of birds would perch there, chirping away nonstop. Sometimes they’d start squabbling before the sun was even up. Wow…” Dawn shook his head, a distant look in his eyes, as if he were standing in that courtyard again, watching red-billed mynas tussle fiercely over half a worm.

“Yes, and you’d always get up and kick those trees, trying to scare the birds away. But you’d only end up getting mad at yourself,” Stacean Lucius interjected with a laugh.

“Why would he do that?” Katherine asked loudly, not understanding.

“He wanted to shake the trees to chase the birds off so he could sleep in,” Stacean explained, then burst into hearty laughter.

Sandra could easily picture the scene. Her world had known green plants, after all. She smiled, watching Katherine’s face light up—like a child who has just been told about a hidden treasure.

“I get it now—he was so annoyed!” Katherine laughed until she slumped back in her chair.

“Yes, he was.” After a moment, when the laughter had died down, Dawn spoke up. “I remember your mother. She’d always stand at the doorway, broom in hand, asking if I needed help.”

“Yes.” At the mention of his mother, Stacean Lucius’s expression turned somber instantly. “She never stopped worrying about you. She asked General Quentin for news of you almost every single day.”

“I let her down. It should have been better than this.” Dawn’s voice was heavy with guilt; he could not even bring himself to look at Sandra.

“Let’s not talk about that. She said I should look forward, but never forget her.” As Stacean spoke, he gazed at Katherine, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. Katherine understood his pain, and reached out to take his hand.

“Dad, we’ll never forget Grandma,” she said softly.

“I know.” Stacean leaned back, his eyes fixed on the ceiling.

“You have to remember her too, Grandpa,” Katherine said, leaning forward and placing her other hand in Dawn’s.

“I will.” Dawn squeezed her hand tightly.

After a long silence, Stacean Lucius was the first to recover. He stood up abruptly, his hands resting on the small table in front of him, and declared, “Let’s find a new home. One with trees.” He turned to look at Katherine as he spoke.

“I agree,” Sandra said, standing up as well.

“Then that’s what we’ll do.” Dawn rose to his feet, patted Stacean Lucius on the shoulder with a smile, and gently ruffled Sandra’s hair.

Later, they discussed their new plan in detail. Dawn felt that the Orion Arm was a dangerous place. Jonathan and the late Chief Financial Officer both coveted his Star Source, and there was no telling if other factions within the Moreth Federation felt the same way. As for the Ashton Federation—even with Madam Winifred’s iron-fisted rule, the post-war chaos was rampant. She had holed up on Visadio Planet, allowing various factions to stalemate each other, and without White Crystal to cement her power, the Ashton Federation was teetering on the brink of collapse at any moment.

The Strath Federation was a safer bet; Prince Carlson had a good temperament. But the best choice of all was the Defenders’ Alliance. The Solar System civilization could join the Alliance, and ask Minister Zhou Qing to mediate on their behalf, helping them find a new home.

“Dawn, I can’t help but feel that Minister Zhou Qing is being a little too enthusiastic…” Sandra hesitated, trailing off. She had wanted to say that his eagerness might be masking motives they could not see, but it did not seem like the right time to voice such suspicions. So she chose her words carefully. “He’s already given us the scientists. If we ask him for a whole planet, won’t that make us seem greedy?” She glanced quickly at Dawn, not wanting to upset him.

“Oh.” The smile faded from Dawn’s face. He looked at Sandra, then at Stacean Lucius, his eyes narrowing slightly. He glanced at the space between himself and Sandra, then moved closer to her. “You’re right. It’s definitely something we should be wary of.”

Hearing Dawn’s response, Sandra was not sure if he was being sincere. She still did not dare meet his gaze.

“All along our journey, we’ve been walking into traps set by others. First, there were our own people…” Dawn paused. He had been about to say that General Quentin sending him on his mission had been a trap, but after all, Stacean had been well cared for. He placed a hand on Sandra’s shoulder and continued, “Never mind. You’re right to be cautious.” He gave her shoulder a gentle shake.

“Yes, it’s always wise to be on your guard,” Katherine added. “Besides, let’s be honest—he only agreed to send the scientists so readily after he saw your Star Source.”

“Exactly. The universe is vast. We’ll find a home on our own,” Stacean Lucius said with a grin.

They debated for a long time, but finally reached a consensus: they would make use of Minister Zhou Qing’s scientists to rapidly advance the Solar System’s scientific level, laying the groundwork for their future migration. By the time they went their separate ways to sleep, Stacean Lucius and Katherine were still buzzing with excitement—as if finding a new home for humanity were as simple as a weekend outing.

But Dawn could not sleep, even though exhaustion weighed heavily on his brows and eyes. He tried closing them, imagining himself shaping dark matter into a floating garden in the air, releasing a few butterflies inside, then lying down on the soft ground and drifting off to sleep. But no matter how hard he tried, he only grew more wakeful.

Sandra was lying with her back to him, curled up into a tight ball. Finally, Dawn reached out, his arm sliding around her waist, his hand wandering gently over her body. She melted into him, soft as the Seagull Nebula, yielding to his touch as if pulled by the universe’s own gravity. Dawn felt like a child who had wandered into a shop filled with chocolate and cotton candy—indulging himself greedily, rolling around in the sweetness of the moment.

It was not until they were both utterly exhausted that they began to talk in fits and starts, discussing their plans for the days ahead. Sandra would continue to pursue the ship distributing White Crystal, determined to uncover whether it was plotting to incite a war. Meanwhile, Dawn would seek out Hamilton. Ever since dark matter had begun to decline, a growing sense of unease had gnawed at him—at times, he felt like a fish trapped in a rapidly drying puddle.

“You know, I still think about that little courtyard we talked about—watching the sun set and the moon rise together,” Sandra said, lifting her head from his arm and nipping playfully at his chin.

“I think about it too,” Dawn replied, lifting her face and pressing his lips to hers. “We’ll plant two big trees in front of the door, letting them wrap around our home.”

“Aren’t you afraid the birds will wake you up with their chirping?” Sandra teased.

“Not anymore!”

“Really?”

“There’s one more thing. I’ve been thinking… I want us to have a child. Naturally.” As Dawn spoke, his heart was pounding so hard he could barely breathe.

“No.” Sandra’s expression turned serious, and she lifted her head sharply to look at him. Dawn stared at her in surprise, at a loss for words. Then Sandra climbed on top of him, pinning his hands down with her own, and said firmly, “Two children.”

When the four of them bid each other farewell at the Mars Ring, there were no empty pleasantries. A thousand words were condensed into a single “Take care” as they turned to leave. Sandra had wanted to tell Dawn about his status as a Star Map Draftsman—that if the Datheon emissaries ever infused him with energy again, he would be permanently transformed into an energy being. But she had held back. If no one spoke of it, she thought, maybe it would never happen. Or maybe they could pretend it would not happen, and just go on like this, together, forever.

But then doubt crept in, and panic along with it. Her heart raced, her hands clenched into fists so tight that her knuckles dug into the muscles of her thighs. When Dawn turned and walked toward his shuttle, she ran after him, throwing her arms around him from behind, pressing her cheek firmly against his back for a long moment. Then she turned and walked away, never looking back, boarding her own shuttle and heading toward the ship carrying the team of scientists.

No one knew how the White Crystal-distributing ship—Kukra City—had suddenly appeared. Judging by its design, it was unmistakably a mobile factory for refining White Crystal. The dying star at its core served as its energy source, and the massive rectangular chamber at its center was heavily guarded by soldiers, clearly intended for top-secret, high-security work.

Jonathan racked his brain for hours. Beyond Madam Winifred, he could think of no one else who possessed the technology left behind by the Datheon. Only Jonathan’s mother knew how the Moreth Federation’s Star Bridges were calculated and stabilized, and the elderly lady had never involved herself in any political or military affairs. Even her own son, when he visited her residence, was received as an ordinary guest. The Datheon had entrusted the secret of White Crystal solely to Madam Winifred, and she had never shared it with anyone—not even Lord Winifred. So who else could possibly be manufacturing White Crystal?

When Jonathan arrived at Kukra City, it was as bustling as ever. From a vendor, he purchased a guidebook titled How to Obtain White Crystal. In truth, there were only three ways:

First, being selected as a leader by Kukra City. Whether politicians, merchants, or even pirate lords—anyone with influence who caught Kukra City’s attention would receive a lifetime supply of White Crystal, free of charge, for over five hundred years.

Second, completing missions assigned by Kukra City in exchange for rewards. To Jonathan’s surprise, he even found a bounty posted for the capture of Stacean Lucius and Dawn Lucius.

Third, the so-called “Lucky Draw” method—completely random, with no rules to speak of, leaving everyone to hope for a stroke of good fortune. It was this last method that had drawn countless people to Kukra City, all hoping to get lucky. It seemed that even he, the Moreth Steader of the Moreth Federation, was not entitled to a free supply of White Crystal.

Sandra contacted her brother to ask for information about Kukra City, but he had nothing to offer. Its technology was ancient—so ancient, in fact, that it predated the invention of Star Bridge technology. Once Star Bridges had been developed, any civilization could use them to find new planets to inhabit, with unlimited energy at their disposal. The technology of encasing a dying star to harness its power was practically a relic of the primordial era.

But Duncan did mention a rumor: that the ship was a leftover from the Datheon’s early experiments to create the first Star Map Draftsmen. If true, it would not only contain the secrets of dark matter manipulation but also house a wealth of ready-made production tools—explaining how Kukra City could distribute such vast quantities of White Crystal. Still, it was only a rumor. And given that the decline of dark matter was no longer a niche piece of news, the reappearance of White Crystal inevitably sparked suspicions of a conspiracy linking the two phenomena.

Sandra’s family and her father’s army had established an independent territory on Planet Maoti. Her brother told her not to worry—their father had downsized the army significantly, not wanting to arouse Madam Winifred’s suspicion. The Ashton Federation’s ruler had granted Planet Maoti to the Duncan family for two reasons: to buy their loyalty, and to keep them under close watch. It was a place for them to settle in this remote corner of the galaxy, and a convenient outpost to monitor the old general’s movements. As long as they did not threaten the Ashton Federation’s rule, Madam Winifred had no reason to openly oppose the Duncan family. But knowing her ruthless and suspicious nature, the old general knew she would never rest easy if he retained a large army. So he had kept only a small contingent to maintain order, demobilizing the rest and allowing them to return to civilian life, free to choose their own paths.

Their conversation was cut short as Sandra’s ship finally arrived at Kukra City. Before hanging up, Duncan—caught between concern and a desire to lecture—offered to introduce her to a contact. The man had once been a sergeant major in their father’s army, and had refused to leave military life behind, becoming a mercenary instead. He was currently working as a security guard at Kukra City. He had originally tried to persuade Duncan to bring his army to Kukra City to offer their services, but Duncan had declined—though the two still kept in touch.

Following Duncan’s instructions, Sandra found the contact. He looked even younger than she did, but his tone was anything but polite. From the moment they met, he could not hide his resentment: he had grown up in her father’s army, working tirelessly to build a career, only to rise to the rank of sergeant major. Meanwhile, Sandra had been born into the role of a diplomat, her position handed to her on a silver platter.

Sandra paid no heed to his complaints, simply telling him firmly that he could either accept his fate and keep his mouth shut, or fight tooth and nail to change his circumstances. The young sergeant major chose the latter.

Their subsequent conversation yielded little useful information. The sergeant major was the leader of just one of many security teams, and his unit was only responsible for patrolling the first section of Kukra City. They were never allowed to venture into the sections beyond.

“What sections?” Sandra interrupted him, frowning.

“You don’t know?” The sergeant major looked at her with distrust.

“What do you think?” Sandra retorted coolly.

“Fine, fine. I’m only telling you this for the old general’s sake.” The sergeant major shook his head, glancing impatiently at the door before continuing. “Out there is the public market—hardly any security is needed, and we never go there. The area we’re in now is the first section. There are people here working on some kind of machine… or so it looks.”

“Not White Crystal?” Sandra cut in again.

“Can you let me finish?” The young man glared at her angrily, slinging his weapon over his shoulder. “I’ve already broken the rules by bringing you in here. Listen to what I have to say, then get out of here. And stop interrupting me.”

Sandra nodded, signaling him to continue.

“They’re building machines in this section. Security personnel aren’t allowed to interact with them, and vice versa. Their progress hasn’t been going well, so people get replaced all the time. As for the other sections—we have no idea what they’re working on. But there’s a rumor going around among the security teams: the closer a section is to the star at the ship’s core, the more advanced the research being conducted there. And as for the White Crystal you’re so interested in—I can say with one hundred percent certainty that it’s being produced in one of those inner sections. How else could they afford to give away so much of it?”

“What do you mean?” Sandra asked.

“What do you think I mean?”

“You said ‘so much White Crystal.’”

“There are dozens of large ships docked at the back of Kukra City. I’ve even seen warships bearing the Moreth Federation’s insignia there. Every time they leave, they’re loaded to the brim.”

“Are you sure they’re carrying White Crystal?”

“Absolutely. I’ve seen that type of container before in the Ashton Federation.” The sergeant major gestured with his hands, mimicking the shape of a large crate.

“I see. Those containers are very distinctive.”

“They are.” The sergeant major nodded firmly.

After bidding the sergeant major farewell, Sandra contacted Dawn Lucius, relaying everything she had learned. They both came to the same conclusion: Madam Winifred could not possibly be the only one who knew the secret of refining White Crystal. But Sandra was determined to dig deeper, to uncover the true mastermind behind Kukra City.

Dawn Lucius had already arrived on Planet Gorov. Hamilton had shown him his sprawling laboratory—and to Dawn’s surprise, Sakya was there too. Sandra had mentioned the old scientist to him before. Dawn also saw many new faces—scientists who had apparently been personally handpicked by Hamilton, all gathered for the sole purpose of uncovering the cause of dark matter’s decline. The governments of the three great federations had not made any official statements on the matter, but several member states of the Defenders’ Alliance had already voiced their support for the project. The Dark Matter Investigation Team was officially born.

Dawn told Sandra that the team’s preliminary conclusion was that a highly advanced civilization somewhere in the universe was consuming dark matter—perhaps to build some kind of unimaginable device, or to conduct an experiment on the entire cosmos. But this theory was quickly dismissed by the more optimistic scientists, who argued that the advanced civilization was actually reducing dark matter through artificial means to prevent galaxy collisions that would throw the universe into chaos. In their view, the universe was still safe, and there was no need to make a fuss over the decline of dark matter. Now, only Hamilton and a handful of others remained convinced that dark matter’s disappearance would spell disaster for the universe.

“What about Sakya? What’s his take on this?” Sandra asked.

“He hasn’t taken a side. As soon as he saw Hamilton’s laboratory, he dove straight into the data without saying a word.”

“He possesses knowledge that no one else does. For Hamilton, having Sakya on board is all that matters. Inviting the other scientists was just a show for the leaders of the various civilizations. To be honest, I can’t shake the feeling that Kukra City is somehow connected to Hamilton. It’s like he’s pulling the strings behind the scenes.”

“It’s hard to say. But the rate of dark matter depletion is accelerating. I’m starting to believe the worst-case scenario: if it drops below a certain threshold, the entire universe could be annihilated… or plunge into eternal darkness.” Dawn’s voice was heavy with worry.

“It’s impossible to know for sure. And where is our savior when we need him?” Sandra muttered, half in frustration.

“Maybe this time… we’ll have to save ourselves. No matter what happens, I’m going to do everything in my power to protect you and Stacean.”

“Oh, really? When have you ever protected me? If anything, I’m the one who’s always had to protect you!” Sandra teased, her tone softening into a playful pout.

“That’s why I want to protect you this time,” Dawn said, smiling warmly.

“I know you do.” Sandra smiled back, satisfied.

“Speaking of which—since I have the power of a Star Map Draftsman, I can’t just stand by and do nothing. What if I come forward and call on more people to join the investigation into dark matter? Do you think it would speed things up?”

“It definitely would. But wouldn’t that put us at odds with Hamilton and the others?”

“I meant calling on people to join forces with Hamilton, not against him. But there’s always the risk of attracting a bunch of people who can’t contribute anything, and only end up making things more complicated.” Dawn sighed softly.

“Nothing in this world is perfect. Just do your best. Let’s wrap this up quickly—I’m tired of running around. I just want to be with you.” Sandra rolled over to the other side of the bed, her cheek still marked with the faint indentations of the pillow.

“I want that too.” Dawn stared at her, a soft, adoring look in his eyes, longing to lean in and kiss her.

They talked for a long time before finally ending the call. Sandra planned to rest for a while in her ship before continuing her investigation into Kukra City. Dawn, meanwhile, went to find Hamilton. The laboratory was crowded with people, but Dawn managed to pull Hamilton aside and share his idea. Before Hamilton could respond, Sakya spoke up, voicing his support first. The other scientists, upon hearing that Dawn was the Star Map Draftsman, cheered enthusiastically, hailing it as a brilliant plan. Left with no other choice, Hamilton reluctantly agreed, instructing the others to assist Dawn in sending out the message.

And so, a video message from the Star Map Draftsman, calling on scientists from across the galaxy to travel to Planet Gorov and join the Dark Matter Investigation Team, was broadcast far and wide. One by one, individuals and organizations responded, pledging their support and their expertise. This time, Dawn also asked Minister Zhou Qing for a contingent of soldiers to help maintain order at the laboratory. Everything seemed to be moving in the right direction.

The Dark Matter Investigation Team grew rapidly, exceeding even Dawn’s most optimistic expectations. New findings were announced in the laboratory every single day. Eventually, some of the scientists began broadcasting these findings to every civilization in the Orion Arm, ensuring that the knowledge was shared widely. Most Level One and Level Two civilizations received the messages, and Hamilton’s massive laboratory soon began receiving donations of funds, equipment, and even previously forgotten research data from other civilizations.

Dawn noticed that Sakya, once a solitary figure, was now positively thriving in the bustling laboratory—excitedly grabbing anyone who would listen to discuss his theories, tirelessly advocating for his belief that the universe had a definite boundary. Hamilton, on the other hand, seemed to grow more and more worried as time went on. He would occasionally strike up a conversation with Dawn, mostly asking about how a Level Zero civilization like the Solar System had developed, or expressing curiosity about certain periods of its history. The ancient wars and lost civilizations of Earth were completely incomprehensible to Hamilton, who had been born and raised in the highly advanced Ashton Federation—a Level Two civilization whose very starting point was light-years beyond the Solar System’s.

Dawn found himself thinking: could he use his newfound influence to assemble a group of people? A military group? The thought flashed through his mind occasionally, sending a chill down his spine. After all, the purpose of an army was to wage war. If he were to build his own armed forces, what would his goal be? And would he, Sandra, and Stacean not become targets themselves? But Dawn could not shake the memory of Stacean’s abduction—it gnawed at him, leaving him restless and distracted. To pass the time, he wandered aimlessly through the laboratory.

“Well, well—if it isn’t the Star Map Draftsman.” As Dawn wandered, Sakya approached him, his mouth stuffed full of nuts.

“Mr. Sakya,” Dawn greeted him with a slight bow.

“Can you feel the fluctuations in dark matter?” Sakya asked, popping another handful of nuts into his mouth.

“I can, but not precisely. It’s more of an intuition.”

“Intuition? What about when you manipulate dark matter? I mean—do you call it forth through imagination? Or is there some kind of incantation involved? And then… boom.” Sakya threw his hands up dramatically, mimicking the surge of energy coursing through a body. Seeing that Dawn was still confused, he smiled faintly.

“It’s not like that. It’s hard to explain. It feels more like the Star Source understands my thoughts, and then does the rest on its own.” Dawn patted his arm, where the Star Source was embedded.

“It seems we truly are no match for the Datheon.”

Dawn nodded silently.

“I have a question for you.” Sakya stopped suddenly, grabbing Dawn’s arm to get his full attention. “You know my theory—I believe the universe definitely has a boundary. Now, suppose dark matter’s decline is being caused by someone. What do you think the consequences would be? Do you think we could survive it?”

Dawn thought for a moment before replying, “I don’t know.”

“Have you ever wondered why we can’t find another way to travel between galaxies? Is this limitation deliberate—imposed on us by a higher civilization?”

“I tend to think the opposite. A more advanced civilization wouldn’t have any motive to restrict a less advanced one. Even if a lower civilization manages to evolve, its pace of development will always lag behind that of the higher civilization—it’s determined by their respective starting points and technological heights.”

“Hm. That does make sense.” Sakya nodded thoughtfully.

“Take the Moreth Federation, for example. It has no reason to restrict the Solar System’s progress, right? The Moreth Federation is far more concerned with whether Star Bridges can cross into other galaxies, or with mastering more advanced space travel technology. The two civilizations operate on completely different levels of technological development and resource availability.”

“True. But as the Moreth Federation develops, it can exploit the resources of the Level Zero civilization as it sees fit. It could even allow the Level Zero civilization to perish entirely, if it suited its needs.”

Dawn fell silent, pondering Sakya’s words. He had no response.

“So have you ever considered this,” Sakya continued, his voice lowering, “what if there is a civilization even more advanced than the Datheon? A civilization that has outgrown the Datheon, and now needs to discard them to continue its own development. Do you think that’s possible?”

“I’m not sure I understand what you mean, Mr. Sakya.” Dawn crossed his arms over his chest, a thoughtful expression on his face.

“Think about it. Take your time.” Sakya patted Dawn on the shoulder, stuffed another handful of nuts into his mouth, then turned and vanished into the crowd of scientists.