‘It showed me, in another dream,’ she whispered to him. ‘It called you Pale Horse,’ she added, smiling.
He looked at her and nodded, so she’d continue.
‘It showed me the Universe. A tuning fork, moving and spinning, a great tree. It mimics, us, or rather we, dendritically. Life and Death. It spins like a current, channeling the Living and Dead. It’s a series of coordinates, between their souls and ours. We can find them.’
‘Our dead crew?’
‘Yea.’