“The wandering sounds hard,” said Glycine. “We’ve done too much of it,” I said. Explanations came more easily tonight. “It’s good to live in a time when we have a home we can love. Someplace we can afford to grow attached to. To be forced to leave a place you love—as a people, we know exile far too well.” And the lesson of history was that it always happened, eventually. A paradox: you could always do something to hold off the bad times, but you could never hold them off forever. Maybe this time? Long enough, at least, to get the world to a point where it could survive the badness?
