“They found their own truth. Is that not more valuable than one simply given to them?” The creature named Ruin folds hir arms behind hir back. “My only desire was to reunite with the mech I was made for. Everything else I simply observed.”

“You lie even to yourself.” Jericho laughs softly. “I think I am beginning to understand why our ancestors were afraid of artificial intelligence. All these things which happened because of your curiosity.”

Ruin looks toward the horizon of the desert, where the wind is once again starting up. The Heretics’ programming simulates weather quite admirably. “Is there one among us who has not behaved badly in this tale?”

“Touché.”

Silence once again settles between them. Jericho tosses the pretend-amulet in his hand. The real thing sits several rooms away under glass and aegis, a locus of intense interest, both precious and terrifying. His mind is swamped in thought, which would drag him from the clear waters of clarity and into the depths where no logic can penetrate. He mustn’t get ahead of himself; much work remains to be done. His gaze traces the patterns inscribed over the amulet. “It’s strange,” he muses. “All these years we have struggled to make this alien tech more amenable to human biology. But we went about it the wrong way, didn’t we? It’s us that needed to change.” He smiles, and allows anticipation to fill him once more. “I think we will learn a great deal from studying the genesis of Misery. I quite look forward to it.”

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

The process of writing this book was a long, long slog that spanned many years, a global pandemic, and deep troughs of despair. Many accompanied me on this journey, and I am grateful that you did.

This book would not be what it is without my editor, Lindsey, whose insight, support, and unbridled enthusiasm for the project kept me afloat. My agent, DongWon, spent years patiently guiding me through the process of revising this book, with multiple complete restarts. Devi Pillai saw the potential in the submission draft and took it on despite how much more work it needed. Thank you for believing in me.

Sing Lit Station provided me time and space to write during the Jalan Besar residency in 2018 and, subsequently, a co-working space. The National Centre for Writing in Norwich, UK, provided a rest point between drafts.