Epilogue

Kruger

Owning your own habitat is extravagant even among the wealthy elite of the old economy, but owning one of this size, and in orbit around Luna, is conspicuous consumption on a stunning scale - even if you gave your parents Torus B all to themselves. But what else can one of the wealthiest men in the solar system do with his money?

You are already sponsoring infugee resleeving initiatives across the inner system, funding covert Reclaimer research missions to Earth, subsidizing several exoplanet colonies through your old buddy John, and bankrolling your first sleeper ship which launches for the Lambda Serpentis system in three weeks. Oh, and of course clandestinely funding various Firewall operations with very secret, very untraceable accounts.    

Now, as long as you can keep the Planetary Consortium from discovering you’ve been doing all this by digitally heisting their money and laundering it through your own various business interests, you’re golden...

John 117

As you activate the kill switch in your stack, you chuckle to yourself. You are certain their security won’t realize until long after they find your body inside the perimeter that you used the habitat’s own automated shipping system to mail the book to your dead drop on Luna. It’ll be 48 hours before your short term backup insurance kicks in, but the book will be safe until you can pick it up.

An authentic, first edition Gutenberg Bible - nice work. Your buyer in the Commonwealth will be pleased. And, if he meets your asking price, you will have more than enough to fund your next gatecrashing expedition. Now, if you could only decide between exploring the world forests of Bluewood or the network graveyards of Moravec. Maybe Rentlov will have a preference?

Piv

After possibly saving the universe from temporal annihilation, monastic life is...well...truth be told, a little dull. But, it brings your troubled soul peace and gives you the serenity to deal with Terry and Rentlov when they come to Mars to visit. Honestly, as annoying as they can be you are usually glad to see them. That is until they leave and the memories their visits stir up free the nightmares - and it’s sometimes weeks before your meditation rituals lock them away again.

Still, it’s worth seeing them. It reminds you that it wasn’t just a bad dream. It reminds you that the nightmare was real but that maybe...just maybe...in going through it you finally made a difference.   

Terry
“Final death” is rare these days, but dead Terry always said “every fork is a person,” or something like that, so they had a funeral. Dead Terry said a lot of stuff. In fact he never seemed to stop talking. Not really.

The ceremony was short but upbeat, with a eulogy given by another Terry, and the ashes ejected from the airlock by still another. In all there were over a hundred people at the funeral - including six Terrys who egocasted to the Swarm to attend in person, all twelve of the ice miners dead Terry rescued from the asteroid, Rentlov, Kru and two others from the Erasure Squad, a well known porn star and one suspicious operative from Direct Action.

If dead Terry hadn’t gone back for another run he wouldn’t have been trying to land when the ice broke apart. Anyway, it was a nice service, and as eulogy Terry said, “Terry died as Terry lived. He was after all, the Ferryman.”

Nikolas

Staring into your baby daughter’s eyes you can see Angel’s face in hers, and you miss your wife more than ever. Your own hardbitten visage softens as the infant coos and squeezes your finger. If your enemies could see you in this moment they would wonder how such a softy rose to lead the Martian arm of the Night Cartel. They would wonder at the bloody path of your ascendency and have a hard time believing the legends. That’s ok, because when you find Angel’s killer and take your revenge, there won’t be anyone in the entire fucking Universe who believes you are anything but hard as God damn diamond.

Rentlov

Taking the ego recovery service legit was bounty hunter Terry’s idea, but you went along because it provided you with opportunities. It made you a little rep, you got to see the system, you got to take out the occasional rogue fork and you got to work with your best friend. It also kept you on the move, making it harder for anyone - Whitegate, Ozma, Firewall, whoever - to find you. Unfortunately, it also meant that when Terry is assigned the occasional erasure job you often get caught up in the shit. Nothing like on Mercury, or in the TQZ, or God forbid on Earth - but the shit none-the-less, and that is never good for your already fragile state of mind.

It’s fortunate therefore that your homebase is still The Stars Our Destination as the periodic checkups with Dr. Mindfuck are really the only things that keep your mind together these days. Your father’s voice in your head is more than metaphor and less than calming and you often regret the particular decision to put him in there. But, what the hell, you only live a hundred times, right? And besides, this next gate run with John will help take your mind off things - including the extra voice in your head - for a little while anyway.

•••

Some Years Later...

However each of you might receive your communications these days - through encrypted Mesh nodes, by clandestine word of mouth or via dead drops - you all receive this one. It comes unexpectedly, while you are living your new life and pretending like you have forgotten the past. It is characteristically brief and you are surprised by both the spark of excitement and the chill of fear it instills in you. It’s from her - at least you assume it’s her - and it brings with it a flood of memories, most of them bad.

The message begins, “Hello Sentinel. I trust this comm finds you well. We have a mission for you…”