Scythes are supposed to have a keen appreciation of death, yet there are some things that are beyond even our comprehension. The woman I gleaned today asked me the oddest question. “Where do I go now?” she asked. “Well,” I explained calmly, “your memories and life recording are already stored in the Thunderhead, so it won’t be lost. Your body is returned to the earth in a manner determined by your next of kin.” “Yes, I know all that,” she said. “But what about me?” The question perplexed me. “As I said, your memory construct will exist in the Thunderhead. Loved ones will be able to talk to it,
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