the Thomas Jefferson Memorial, in Washington, D.C. Hart Schmidt was with us, on his first trip to Earth—the surface of it, at least. He was determined to be the most touristy tourist who had ever touristed, and was presently snapping pictures of the statue of Jefferson from every conceivable angle. It was late March, and the cherry blossoms were beginning to bloom.
“You know there’s a curse about living in interesting times,” I said to her. “It’s attributed to the Chinese.”
“That’s a myth, you know,” Danielle said. “The Chinese never said anything that foolish.”
I smiled at this. “Ode says hello, incidentally,” I said. Ode Abumwe, who had retired from active diplomatic duty to take on a new role: primary architect of the new constitution that the Colonial Union was creating with its colonies.
“How goes the nation building?” Danielle asked.
“When I last talked to her about it she said it was an immense pain in her ass, but there was just no other alternative. Her deal with you and Sorvalh, ironically enough, served to force the Colonial Union to accept her deal with the rebellious colonies. They couldn’t accept a fait accompli agreement with the Earth and Conclave and not accept one from their own colonies. I think that’s why she was appointed to run the discussions. The higher-ups wanted to punish her.”
“The irony being that they’re making her the mother of the new Colonial Union. She’s going to be remembered forever for that.”
“If she can get a deal.”
“This is Ode Abumwe, Harry,” Danielle said. “As if she’s not going to get a deal.”
We watched Hart take his photos.
“I can’t help but notice you’re still not green,” Danielle said to me. “I thought this natural skin tone thing was just supposed to be a summer look for you.”
“I’ve been busy,” I said.
“We’ve all been busy.”
“All right, fine,” I said. “I also missed being this particular tone of me.”
“Is this indicative of anything? Subconsciously or otherwise?”
“Probably not.”
“Right.”
“Fine,” I said. “I might be thinking of retiring.”
“Hanging up the super body and aging like a normal, decent human should?”
“Maybe,” I said. “This is only an idle thought.”
“If nothing else, you can’t say that the Colonial Union didn’t get its money out of you, Harry.”
“No, I suppose not,” I said.
“If you did retire, where would you go? What would you do?”
“I haven’t thought that far out.”
“I have an opening on my staff,” Danielle said.
“I don’t want to work for you, Dani.”
“I’m a terrific boss, and I’ll brutally sabotage the career of any underling who says different.”
“You should use that as a recruiting statement.”
“What makes you think I don’t?”
I smiled at this. Hart was now photographing the bits of the Declaration of Independence carved into the walls of the monument.
“Seriously, Harry,” Danielle said, after a minute. “Come back to Earth.”
“Why?”
“You know why,” she said. “And you can now.”
“Maybe I will,” I said.
“ Maybe .”
“Don’t rush me. I’ve got a lot to work out.”
“All right,” Danielle said. “Just don’t take too long.”
“Fair enough,” I said, and took her hand.
“Interesting times we live in,” Danielle repeated. “That’s not meant to be a curse. I like interesting. I like it now, anyway.”
“So do I,” I said. She squeezed my hand.
“This place is great!” Hart said, coming up to the both of us.
“Glad you like it,” I said.
“I really do,” he said. He looked at the both of us, excited. “So. What’s next?”
By John Scalzi
The Old Man’s War Series
Old Man’s War
The Ghost Brigades
The Last Colony
Zoe’s Tale
The Human Division
The End of All Things
First published 2015 by Tom Doherty Associates, LLC
This electronic edition published 2015 by Tor
an imprint of Pan Macmillan
20 New Wharf Road,
“You know there’s a curse about living in interesting times,” I said to her. “It’s attributed to the Chinese.”
“That’s a myth, you know,” Danielle said. “The Chinese never said anything that foolish.”
I smiled at this. “Ode says hello, incidentally,” I said. Ode Abumwe, who had retired from active diplomatic duty to take on a new role: primary architect of the new constitution that the Colonial Union was creating with its colonies.
“How goes the nation building?” Danielle asked.
“When I last talked to her about it she said it was an immense pain in her ass, but there was just no other alternative. Her deal with you and Sorvalh, ironically enough, served to force the Colonial Union to accept her deal with the rebellious colonies. They couldn’t accept a fait accompli agreement with the Earth and Conclave and not accept one from their own colonies. I think that’s why she was appointed to run the discussions. The higher-ups wanted to punish her.”
“The irony being that they’re making her the mother of the new Colonial Union. She’s going to be remembered forever for that.”
“If she can get a deal.”
“This is Ode Abumwe, Harry,” Danielle said. “As if she’s not going to get a deal.”
We watched Hart take his photos.
“I can’t help but notice you’re still not green,” Danielle said to me. “I thought this natural skin tone thing was just supposed to be a summer look for you.”
“I’ve been busy,” I said.
“We’ve all been busy.”
“All right, fine,” I said. “I also missed being this particular tone of me.”
“Is this indicative of anything? Subconsciously or otherwise?”
“Probably not.”
“Right.”
“Fine,” I said. “I might be thinking of retiring.”
“Hanging up the super body and aging like a normal, decent human should?”
“Maybe,” I said. “This is only an idle thought.”
“If nothing else, you can’t say that the Colonial Union didn’t get its money out of you, Harry.”
“No, I suppose not,” I said.
“If you did retire, where would you go? What would you do?”
“I haven’t thought that far out.”
“I have an opening on my staff,” Danielle said.
“I don’t want to work for you, Dani.”
“I’m a terrific boss, and I’ll brutally sabotage the career of any underling who says different.”
“You should use that as a recruiting statement.”
“What makes you think I don’t?”
I smiled at this. Hart was now photographing the bits of the Declaration of Independence carved into the walls of the monument.
“Seriously, Harry,” Danielle said, after a minute. “Come back to Earth.”
“Why?”
“You know why,” she said. “And you can now.”
“Maybe I will,” I said.
“ Maybe .”
“Don’t rush me. I’ve got a lot to work out.”
“All right,” Danielle said. “Just don’t take too long.”
“Fair enough,” I said, and took her hand.
“Interesting times we live in,” Danielle repeated. “That’s not meant to be a curse. I like interesting. I like it now, anyway.”
“So do I,” I said. She squeezed my hand.
“This place is great!” Hart said, coming up to the both of us.
“Glad you like it,” I said.
“I really do,” he said. He looked at the both of us, excited. “So. What’s next?”
By John Scalzi
The Old Man’s War Series
Old Man’s War
The Ghost Brigades
The Last Colony
Zoe’s Tale
The Human Division
The End of All Things
First published 2015 by Tom Doherty Associates, LLC
This electronic edition published 2015 by Tor
an imprint of Pan Macmillan
20 New Wharf Road,
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