“Isaac is special. You know that. Of all the Uptaken, Isaac is the one who was linked to the Hypotheticals even before he was taken up by the temporal Arch. He’s the most effective intermediary between Vox and the Hypotheticals. Did you expect us to rely on words to communicate with him? Isaac needs to interact with the collectivity of Vox, not just me or you or Mr. Findley or any other individual.”

“You’re grafting your own madness into him.”

Oscar answered with a few words in his own language.

It was a Voxish proverb, Allison told me later. Loosely translated: The bee must not pass judgment on the hive.

3.

As we sailed south, Vox sent out fleets of unmanned aircraft to map the continents of the Earth at increasingly finer scales. The drones flew at the upper limits of the atmosphere, as much spacecraft as aircraft, and their cameras and sensors were sensitive enough to penetrate the near-perpetual shroud of high haze.

They were designed to seek out any evidence of human activity, past or present. At first, all they found were lifeless ruins. I talked Oscar into letting me see some of the images the aircraft had relayed to Vox, but the video was bland and uninformative. Many of the last human cities had been built in the boreal lands of the northern hemisphere (places I still thought of as Russia or Scandinavia or Canada), but they had been abandoned now for more than a thousand years. All that remained were faint suggestions of roads and foundations, blemishes on the otherwise trackless uniformity of the circumpolar deserts.

I had read in the history books about the Terrestrial exodus. Calling it that made it sound as if the Earth had been systematically evacuated, but the truth was much uglier. Even the vast number of refugees who flooded across the Arch to Equatoria had constituted only a fraction of the planet’s population. The rest had simply died, over a grueling few centuries of progressive impoverishment. They died of starvation as crops failed and arable land shrank, died of asphyxia as anaerobic blooms choked the oceans and poisoned the air. Hydrogen sulfide seeping from the seas had sterilized the coastal plains and river deltas; then, inexorably, over decades, the hinterlands had also succumbed. Massive fires swept through ravaged forests, adding tons of liberated carbon to the thickening atmosphere. Decades of lightless cold were followed by decades of rising heat as the climate began to oscillate like a cracked bell.