We had another battle to try to sleep through before dawn this morning.

“No. No, Donner’s just a kind of human banister.” “A what?” “I mean he’s like… like a symbol of the past for us to hold on to as we’re pushed into the future. He’s nothing. No substance.

If hyperempathy syndrome were a more common complaint, people couldn’t do such things. They could kill if they had to, and bear the pain of it or be destroyed by it. But if everyone could feel everyone else’s pain, who would torture?

Some say God is a spirit, a force, an ultimate reality. Ask seven people what all of that means and you’ll get seven different answers. So what is God? Just another name for whatever makes you feel special and protected?

No, we’re not certain. We’re not certain at all. Is he sick somewhere? Hurt? Held against his will for who knows what reason by who knows what monsters? This is worse than when Keith died. So much worse. As horrible as that was, we knew he was dead. Whatever he suffered, we knew he wasn’t suffering any more. Not in this world, anyway. We knew. Now,

But my point isn’t who’s sleeping with whom or who’s feuding. My point is—my question is—how in the world can anyone get married and make babies with things the way they are now? I mean, I know people have always gotten married and had kids, but now.… Now there’s nowhere to go, nothing to do. A couple gets married, and if they’re lucky, they get a

“Be careful,” he whispered. “Don’t give the poor old guy a heart attack.” “I’ll tell him you were worried,” I said. Harry laughed, then sobered. “Be careful, Lauren. Bankole is probably all right. He seems to be. But, well.… Yell if anything goes wrong.”

I find it… more exciting and encouraging than I can explain, more important than I can explain. There is life out there. There are living worlds just a few light-years away, and the United States is busy drawing back from even our nearby dead worlds, the moon and Mars. I understand why they are, but I wish they weren’t.

Kids today have no idea what a blaze of light cities used to be—and not that long ago.” “I’d rather have the stars,” I say. “The stars are free.” She shrugs. “I’d rather have the city lights back myself, the sooner the better. But we can afford the stars.”