“Don’t be absurd,” says Fin. “It’s an embassy. We can’t even go in to change a semiconductor. Plus, it’s the most powerful transmitter in this solar system. It’s gone out. Can’t be unbottled.”

“Why do we need to shut it down?” asks Shell. “I mean, we’ve got Brisbane, and the AI is trapped. Why is this bad?”

“Miners,” says Fin. “On Lagos, maybe. I don’t know.”

What are they telling you? What are they not telling you?

“Can we just shut this speaker off?” asks Shell. “I don’t want to listen to it.”

Ultimately, it stops. People drift away to sleep, except Fin, who stays awake, expecting Joké to show up any minute. He listens to the rescue efforts in space, in orbit, out over the unnamed oceans and the unexplored terrain of Bloodroot. He listens to reports on the gathering of Lambers.

Dozens of encouraging survival stories and exclamations as pods are opened to find living passengers. Fin stays up until dawn shows its face. He tries to eat, but nothing has taste, and he is only trying to out of boredom. He makes strong coffee, he listens to noisy music, but his eyes are heavy in the light of the new day.

And of Joké, there is no sign.

He recalls a conversation on the Ragtime before Brisbane.

“Fin, you shouldn’t be worrying your head about me,” says Joké. “I don’t fear death.”

“You don’t fear death.”

“I don’t. But you do. So we should, um, talk about that. Find comfort for you.”

“Is this because you’re part alien?”

Joké looks at Fin like he’s an idiot.

“Lambers aren’t aliens, Fin. They’re our ancestors.”

“What?”

“They’re, um, they’re humans. Translated humans. Some humans, at any rate.”

“You’re telling me Lambers are ghosts.”

“No. Look, maybe when the first primate with an opposable thumb looked at her reflection in the still waters of Lake Tanganyika and said, ‘I am’, maybe that was the birth of the first self-aware spirit. She had no name and a genealogy written in a visual and olfactory record. Maybe she had children, maybe one or two of them survived. When she died at, um, twenty-six, she found herself in a different reality. She could see her offspring on Earth if she tried hard. She could communicate and influence. She could hear supplications. She was the first true god.”

“Aww, come on—”

“You asked, motherfucker. I can just shut up.”

Fin throws up his hands. “No, no, continue, baby.”