expected answers. He and his staff of Kargs and salvaged early-era humans had marooned themselves on a tight little island in a rising sea of entropic dissolution. They’d be safe here for a while—until the rot now nibbling at the edges reached the last year, the last day, the last hour. Then they’d be gone and all their works with them into the featureless homogeneity of the Ylem.
“It’s a sad little operation you’re running here, Karg,” I told it. “But don’t worry: nothing lasts forever.”
He didn’t answer. I snooped around the room for a few minutes longer, recording what interested me; I could have made good use of that breakfast I hadn’t eaten, a hundred years ago; and there were all sorts of special equipment that could be useful where I was going; and maybe there were a few more questions that should have been asked. But I had the feeling that the sooner I departed from the jurisdiction of the Final Authority the better it would be for me and whatever was left of my aspirations.
“Any
“It’s a sad little operation you’re running here, Karg,” I told it. “But don’t worry: nothing lasts forever.”
He didn’t answer. I snooped around the room for a few minutes longer, recording what interested me; I could have made good use of that breakfast I hadn’t eaten, a hundred years ago; and there were all sorts of special equipment that could be useful where I was going; and maybe there were a few more questions that should have been asked. But I had the feeling that the sooner I departed from the jurisdiction of the Final Authority the better it would be for me and whatever was left of my aspirations.
“Any