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.You know I don’t want immortality.Life is so very hard to bear at the best of times.To face life everlasting.I feel at peace when I contemplate what I’m going to do—please try to understand.She was going to leave her house—had left her house—and walk to the reservoir, and give herself to the frigid embrace of the water.How could I understand that? How could I understand an act so irrational, an act of violence provoked by fears and pressures known only to herself? How often since have I wished I had known her better, had been a lover capable of being there when she needed me most?I can hear you asking how could I do this to you.But, Jeff, you will survive—you have all the time in the universe.In a hundred years I will be a fleeting memory, and in a thousand.They say that time heals all wounds.And she had finished, With all my love, Claudine.* * * *I spend a long time contemplating the events of the past, going over my time with Claudine and wondering where I went wrong.I blame myself, of course, for not persuading her to undergo the implantation process, for not being able to show her how much I loved her.I blame myself for not giving her reason enough to go on living.I am haunted by her words, You have all the time in the universe.At night I sit in the darkened lounge and stare out at the rearing edifice of the Onward Station, marvelling at its beauty and contemplating the terrible gift of the Kéthani.* * * *INTERLUDEFive years had passed since the coming of the Kéthani, and after the first two years of turbulent change—two years of rioting and protest around the world—order had been restored.Hundreds of thousands of returnees came back to Earth, and though they had been subtly changed by the experience of dying and being reborn, none were the zombies or monsters that the Jeremiahs and prophets of doom had forecast.Slowly, things began to change on Earth.So slowly, so gradually, that it was almost unnoticeable.That evening—after a long day on the ward where I worked as an implant surgeon—I was enjoying a pint in the Fleece when Jeffrey Morrow said, “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but over the past few years things have got better on Earth, don’t you think?”We looked at him.Jeffrey had greyed in the years since I first got to know him, which wasn’t at all surprising, considering what he’d undergone.He was a quiet man, much given to introspection and thoughtful silences.After Claudine’s death, we had persuaded him to remain in the area, to stay on at the school in Bradley, to face the terrors of his past and not to run away.Considering what Jeffrey had experienced in recent years, this latest pronouncement was a little unexpected, to say the least.“Got better?” I said.“How do you mean?”“I came across an academic paper the other day,” Jeffrey said, “by some high-up in the UN.” He was on his fourth pint, and his eyes were distant.“It was a breakdown of the incidences of conflict around the world.And do you know something—since the coming of the Kéthani, cases of armed conflict have decreased globally by almost seventy per cent.”Richard Lincoln nodded.“I’ve heard the same.Not only that, violence in general has fallen around the world.For instance, murder rates are in decline.”That led us to speculate about the reasons for this gradual amelioration of the human condition.Richard said, “Well, you know what I think—”Zara laughed and hummed the spooky opening bars of the Twilight Zone.“The aliens are amongst us, Richard?”He pointed at her, mock stern.“Oh, ye of little faith.The Kéthani have powers which we can’t even dream of, so it stands to reason that they’d come among us to help us along the way.”I thought about that, then said, “I’m not saying you’re wrong, Richard.But I think that that might be unnecessary.”Richard downed half his pint.“Go on.”“Think about it.We die.They transport us to their homeworld.They bring us back to life.And we come back—changed.I’ve heard it said that people come back.I don’t know.better, improved
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