Neither she nor the Seed could allow that to happen.

There. Shards of bone, and a softer flesh between, unlike any other, a dense web of nerves emanating from the grey interior. There. Even at a remove, the force of the thoughts within was enough to make her (and the Seed) quail. She wished she could join herself with the mound of tissue, as she had with Gregorovich, and heal it, but the mind of the Maw was still too strong for her. She would risk losing control of the Seed again.

No. The only solution was a cutting blow.

She stiffened a blade of fibers, drew it back and—

A signal struck her from near one of the planets around the dim, blue-white star. It was a burst of electromagnetic waves, but she heard it as clearly as any voice: a shrill stutter-stop packed with layers of encrypted information.

Deep within her, a jolt of electricity coursed through the circuits of the Casaba-Howitzer. Then a piece of machinery shifted inside the missile with a heavy thud. And with dreadful certainty she knew:

Activation.

There was no time to escape. No time whatsoever.

Alan.

In the darkness, light blossomed.

PART SIX

QUIETUS

…

I’ve seen a greater share of wonders, vast

And small, than most have done. My peace is made;

My breathing slows. I could not ask for more.

To reach beyond the stuff of day-to-day

Is worth this life of mine. Our kind is meant

To search and seek among the outer bounds,

And when we land upon a distant shore,

To seek another yet farther still. Enough.

The silence grows. My strength has fled, and Sol

Become a faded gleam, and now I wait,

A Viking laid to rest atop his ship.

Though fire won’t send me off, but cold and ice,

And forever shall I drift alone.

No king of old had such a stately bier,

Adorned with metals dark and grey, nor such

A hoard of gems to grace his somber tomb.

I check my straps; I cross my arms, prepare

Myself to once again venture into the

Unknown, content to face my end and pass

Beyond this mortal realm, content to hold

And wait and here to sleep—

To sleep in a sea of stars.

—THE FARTHEST SHORE 48–70

HARROW GLANTZER

CHAPTER I

RECOGNITION

1.

She was.

How, where, and what, she could not say … but she was. The lack of knowledge did not bother her. She existed, and existence was its own satisfaction.

Her awareness was a thin, trembling sensation, as if she were stretched over too much area. She felt insubstantial; a haze of recognition drifting across a darkling sea.

And for a time, that was enough.

Then she noticed the membrane of her self beginning to thicken, slowly at first, but with increasing speed. With it came the question that birthed all questions: Why?

As her flesh continued to solidify, her thoughts also grew stronger, more coherent. Still, confusion dominated. What was happening? Was she supposed to know? Where was she? Was where something real or something she had imagined?