“Me, too, man. But you’ll find your way home. We did.”
“To travel hopefully is a better thing than to arrive.”
“Ha! Don’t believe everything humans tell you, okay?”
“Okay.” Tochee extended its manipulator flesh and shaped it into a human hand. Ozzie shook it formally. He wasn’t quite prepared for the way Mellanie threw her arms around him. There was still a small nagging issue of trust with that girl that he hadn’t resolved.
“You’re seriously going to do this?” he asked.
Mellanie gave him an innocent shocked look, which dissolved into a beautifully evil smile. “Oh, yes, I’m doing this. My inserts can record all the worlds we visit. Are you afraid I’ll beat your record of new planets to walk across?”
“No. But you’re at the top of the unisphere. That interview could have turned Michelangelo into your coffee boy. You knew that.”
She gave him a curious, distant smirk. “Black, one sugar.”
“Excuse me?”
“I thought you’d get it, you of all people. It’s far better to travel than to arrive, right? Yeah, I made it to the top. Now what? Stay there for five hundred years? On the way up I found out what it takes to get there, and what I’ll have to do to stay there. I thought I could do it, I really did. I thought I could be harder and nastier than all the rest. Actually, I can be, which is the really awful thing. But I found I don’t like the price. It’s not who I am—I don’t think. I need a break, Ozzie. I need to sort myself out.”
“Too much too soon, huh?”
“You changed the world with wormhole technology, but it was Sheldon who built the Commonwealth. Why, Ozzie?”
“More fun this way.”
“Yeah, well, I’m going to take a look at the galaxy. When I get back I’ll have the recordings to step straight back into the number one slot again if that’s what I want.”
“I hope you find out what you want to be by then,” he said sincerely.
“Thanks, Ozzie.”
“In the meantime, be nice to Orion. He’s a good kid.”
Mellanie batted her eyes. “Not anymore, he’s not.”
Ozzie grinned as she walked away, trying not to stare at her ass. Her jeans were incredibly tight.
“Guess this is it,” Orion said. There was something caught in his throat, making his voice hoarse.
“Are you going to be all right?” Ozzie asked. “Really, I mean?”
“Sure. You taught me how to take care of myself. Except for those pickup lines. They were really crap, Ozzie.”
Ozzie hugged the boy, suddenly afraid he was going to lose it and start crying, which would be seriously uncool. “They’re out there, dude, you know that.”
“I do. Sometimes I think I can see them. They’re a long way away.”
“Well, you be careful, remember you can keep coming back.”
“I know.”
“And have fun on Tochee’s world. I want a full report someday.”
“You’ll get it.”
“Look after Mellanie. She’s not as tough as she makes out.”
“Ozzie, we’ll be fine.” Orion gave him a last hug. “Good-bye, Ozzie.”
“Sure, dude, good-bye.”
Ozzie shouldered his backpack, watching as Orion, Mellanie, and Tochee left the little clearing, leading the three heavily laden horses after them. He had a strong impulse to rush off after them.
“Saying good-bye is always hard.”
“What’s that?” Ozzie looked up at the Bose motile.
“I believe Orion is perfectly capable of surviving out here. He is, after all, a friend of the Silfen.”
“Yeah, but come on, he and Mellanie don’t have a brain cell to rub together.”
“It’s not their brain cells that they’re interested in rubbing together.”
Ozzie laughed. “No, it isn’t. I guess it’s going to take Tochee longer than it expects to get home.” He sighed. “Come on, let’s get going.”
They set off in the same direction as the others, to begin with. Ozzie could see them through the trees for quite a while. Orion and Mellanie would wave from time to time. He raised a hand in reply. Eventually, the undergrowth was too dense.
“Is this really a path?” the Bose motile asked. They were forcing their way through bushes and tall grasses, with the trees clustering close together. The ground was damp underfoot.
“Yeah,” Ozzie replied, knowing, feeling the ancient way stirring out of its sleep. “It just hasn’t been used for a long time, is all.”
***
It took them three more days, pushing through the forest as it turned from doughty pines to lush tropical vegetation that was really thick. On the morning of the third day, the trees began to shrink. They looked malformed, suffering from some kind of disease. Leafless stumps began to appear amid the living trunks, becoming prevalent. The undergrowth gave way to ribbons of slime that covered the ground. It wasn’t long before the dying jungle gave way to a field of boulders. Stone began to rise up on either side, forming gully walls. Thunder echoed around them, growing louder. They were walking into darkness now, with occasional flashes of lightning accompanying the thunder.
“I hear it,” the Bose motile said suddenly.
Ozzie nodded. He walked to the end of the gully, and peered down into the valley below. Overhead, a force field held off the thick black clouds. Lightning scraped across the translucent energy field.
The home of MorningLightMountain was laid out before him. The giant building that had consumed the conical mountain in the center of the valley. Vast rectangular congregation lakes, with their writhing bodies emerging onto ramps where they were marshaled into new regiments by motiles. Industrial buildings mushrooming everywhere.
“I can’t see a single living thing apart from it,” Ozzie said. “Nothing.”
“You won’t,” the Bose motile said. “Not here. There are farms elsewhere. Most of the continental land is given over to agriculture. But there is no wildlife.”
“What’s it doing?”
“Brooding. It thinks it is going to die. Not for millions of years, until the sun expands and fills up the inside of the barrier. But that is all it sees now. It doesn’t believe that any of its interstellar settlements will rescue it, should they survive our nova bombs. It knows they will devolve into independence and thus become its enemy just like all the other immotiles used to be.”
“Morbid son of a bitch, isn’t it? Are you sure you want to do this?”
“Of course. It is only fitting. I was the last thing to escape from Dyson Alpha, it is only right that I bring back a chance, some hope. MorningLightMountain cannot change now. Evolution here has ended. It cannot think differently, not by itself. Somebody must introduce change, for it will never come from within.”
“And you can do that?”
“I can try. I can insinuate questions into its thoughts. Questions it cannot conceive for itself.”
“Isn’t that a bit like making it in our own image?”
“I don’t think you need worry that MorningLightMountain will ever become human in its outlook. For myself, I will consider it simply developing a more rational outlook as a success. It needs to learn tolerance.”
“Good luck. That’s something we don’t do very well ourselves. We nearly killed MorningLightMountain in a knee-jerk reaction.”
“But we didn’t, did we, thanks to you.”
“And a few others.”
“It will take time, centuries I expect, and there’s no guarantee of success.”
“I’ll come back in a few hundred years, check up on your progress.”
“Please do. It will be interesting to see what you have become by then.”
About The Author
PETER F. HAMILTON is the author of numerous short stories and novels, including Pandora’s Star, Fallen Dragon, and the acclaimed epic Night’s Dawn trilogy (The Reality Dysfunction, The Neutronium Alchemist, and The Naked God). Hamilton lives in England.
 
; By Peter F. Hamilton
THE NIGHT’S DAWN TRILOGY
The Reality Dysfunction
The Neutronium Alchemist
The Naked God
Fallen Dragon
THE GREG MANDEL TRILOGY
Mindstar Rising
A Quantum Murder
The Nano Flower
Misspent Youth
A Second Chance at Eden
The Confederation Handbook
Pandora’s Star
Peter F. Hamilton, Judas Unchained
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