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Possibly, I had been just a little too successful in getting the plant life established. Ragnarök was almost all forest now, and every single tree was doing its level best to perspire. The result was like Miami in midsummer, but without the beaches.
It’s out. The rewind was exactly what it was trying for. We are so fucked.
“So what I’m hearing,” Dae said, “is that you hate this plan, but not as much as you hate all the other plans.” “Still a joy to work with.” “It’s not just a job, Icky, it’s a pleasure.”
Wormhole gates were kept well separated, which seemed like a good idea on so many levels. Traffic jams would be nothing but bad.
The biggest attribute of immortality, it turned out, was that problems just kept coming at you. Eventually you realized that the only solution was to head for the hills and adopt the hermit lifestyle.
But there was always that fear in the back of my mind that we might be living on borrowed time. So far, we’d found no explanation for the observed fact that all the intelligent species we’d discovered were in the range from the Stone Age–level Deltans to early spacefaring species like humanity, the Quinlans, and the Others. No elder races, no Heechee, no high-level Kardashev civilizations. None of us thought it was a coincidence, but no one had an explanation, either.
“You’re lucky there are martinis in this world. Makes you almost bearable.”
With a few powerful wingbeats, I found myself above and slightly behind her. As I gazed down on her form, I suddenly had an idea of how those mating flights worked. “Bridge, do we have the dragon behavioral routines installed yet?” “Some of them. No cultural stuff yet, though. Why?” “I’m, uh, well, my dranny is, uh … ” “You like me?” “Yeah, like that. How accurate is the physiology?” “We could find out.” I eased down to glide just above her, and we found another updraft. Aerial sex. Highly recommended.
