As the last day approached, Bisesa sat with Josh in the chamber of Marduk, with the looming, silent Eye hanging over them. They clung to each other. They were beyond passion: they had made love in defiance of the Eyes cold glare, but even that could not drive the Eye out of their consciousness. All they wanted now, all they could ask of each other, was comfort.
Josh whispered, Do you think they care at all about what they have donethe world they have taken apart, those who have died?
No. Oh, perhaps they have a certain academic interest in such emotions. Nothing beyond that.
Then they are less than me. If I see an animal killed, I am capable of caring for it, of feeling its pain.
Yes, she said patiently, but, Josh, you dont care for the millions of bacteria that die in your gut every second. We arent bacteria; we are complex, independent, conscious creatures. But they are so far above usthat we are diminished to nothing.
Then why would they send you home?
I dont know. Because it amuses them, I suppose.
He glowered at her. What they want doesnt matter. Are you sure this is what you want, Bisesa? Even if you do go home what if Myra doesnt want you?
She turned to look at him. His eyes were huge in the lamplight gloom, his skin very smooth, young-looking. Thats ridiculous.
Is it? Bisesa, who are you? Who is she? After the Discontinuity, we are all fractured selves that straddle worlds. Perhaps some splinter of you could be given back to some splinter of Myra
Resentment exploded in her, as her complicated feelings for both Myra and Josh came bubbling up. You dont know what youre talking about.
He sighed. You cant go back, Bisesa. It would mean nothing. Stay here. He grabbed her hands. We have houses to build, crops to growand children to raise. Stay here with me, Bisesa, and have my children. This world is no longer some alien artifact; it is our home.
Suddenly she softened. Oh, Josh. She pulled him to her. Dear Josh. I want to stay, believe me I do. But I cant. Its not just Myra. This is an opportunity, Josh. An opportunity they havent offered to anybody else. Whatever their motives, I have to take it.
Why?
Because of what I might learn. About why this has happened. About them. About what we might do about all this in the future.
Ah. He smiled wistfully. I should have known. I can argue with a mother about her love for her child, but I cant stand in the way of a soldiers duty.
Oh, Josh
Take me with you.
She sat back, shocked. I wasnt expecting that.
Bisesa, you are everything to me. I dont want to stay here without you. I want to follow you, wherever you go.
But I may be killed, she said softly.
If I die by your side I will die happy. What else is life for?
JoshI dont know what to say. All I do is hurt you.
No, he said gently. Myra is always thereif not between us, then at your side. I understand that.
Well, even so, nobody loved me this way before.
They embraced again, and were silent for a while.
Then he said, You know, they dont have a name.
Who?
The baleful intelligences who engineered all this. They are not God, or any gods
No, she said. She closed her eyes. She could feel them even now, like a breeze from the heart of an old, dying wood, dry and rustling and laden with decay. They are not gods. They are of this universethey were born of it, as we were. But they are oldterribly old, old beyond our imagining.
They have lived too long.
Perhaps.
Then that is what we will call them. He looked up at the Eye, chin jutting, defiant. The Firstborn. And may they rot in hell.
To celebrate Bisesas peculiar departure, Alexander ordered an immense feast. It lasted three days and three nights. There were athletic contests, horse races, dances and musicand even an immense battue in the Mongol style, the tales of which had impressed even Alexander the Great.
On the last night Bisesa and Josh were guests of honor at a lavish banquet in Alexanders commandeered palace. The King himself did her the honor of dressing like Ammon, his father-god, in slippers, horns and purple cloak. It was a violent, noisy, drunken affair, like the ultimate rugby club outing. By threeA.M. the booze had polished off poor Josh, who had to be carried out to a bedroom by Alexanders chamberlains.
Illuminated by a single oil lamp, Bisesa, Abdikadir and Casey sat close to each other on expensive couches, a small fire burning in a hearth between them.
Casey was drinking from a tall glass beaker. He held it out to Bisesa. Babylonian wine. Better than that Macedonian rotgut. You want some?
She smiled and passed. I think I ought to be sober tomorrow.
Casey grunted. From what I hear of Josh, one of you needs to be.
Abdikadir said, So here we are, the last survivors of the twenty-first century. I cant remember the last time the three of us were alone.
Casey said, Not since the day of the chopper crash.
Thats how you think of it? Bisesa asked. Not the day the world came apart at the seams, but the day we lost the Bird!
Casey shrugged. Im a professional. I lost my ship.
She nodded. Youre a good man, Casey. Give me that stuff. She grabbed the beaker from him and took a draft of wine. It was rich, tasting very old, almost stale, the produce of a mature vineyard.
Abdikadir was watching her, his blue eyes bright. Josh spoke to me this evening, before he got too drunk to speak at all. He thinks you are keeping back something from himeven nowsomething about the Eye.
I dont always know what to tell him, she said. Hes a man of the nineteenth century. Christ, hes so young .
But hes not a child, Bis, Casey said. Men no older than him died for us facing the Mongols. And you know he is prepared to give up his life for you.
I know.
So, Abdikadir said, what is it you wont tell him?
My worst suspicions.
About what?
About facts that have been staring us in the face since day one. Guys, our little bit of Afghanistanand the slab of sky above it, that preserved the Soyuz is all that came through the Discontinuity from our own time. And, hard as weve looked, weve found nothing from any era later than our own. We were the last to be sampled. Doesnt that seem strange to you? Why would a two-million-year history project end with us?
Abdikadir nodded. Ah. Because we are the last. After us there is nothing to be sampled. Ours was the last year, the last montheven the last day.
I think, Bisesa said slowly, that something terrible must happen on that final dayterrible for humanity, or the world. Maybe thats why we shouldnt worry about time paradoxes. Going back and changing history. Because after us, Earth has run out of history to change
Abdikadir said, And perhaps this answers a question that occurred to me when you described your ideas on space-time rips. It would surely take a stupendous amount of energy to take space-time apart like that. Is that what faces the Earth? He waved his hands. Some immense catastrophe: a great outpouring of energy, in the face of which Earth is like a snowflake in a furnacean energy storm that disrupts space and time itself
Casey closed his eyes and drank more wine. Christ, Bis. I knew youd bring the mood down.
And maybe thats why the sampling happened in the first place, Abdikadir said.
She hadnt thought it through that far. What do you mean?
The library is about to burn down. What do you do about it? You run through the galleries, grabbing what you can. Maybe the construction of Mir is an exercise in salvage.
Casey said, eyes still closed, Or looting.