For days the lioness had stalked through his waking dreams, appearing and disappearing in the long grass, the world's top predator, her drool falling onto sandy soil, each paw deliberately placed, stalking, her eyes mechanical in glint. She could see everything that moved in hyper-lit awareness, hear everything that happened for hundreds of yards around her.
Negotiations were under way.
They spoke through images which could be easily understood.
Where once he would have rushed in, now he spoke no more. Schoolboy pranks and bored suburban louts, well, military grunts and disbelieving analysts, it was just a game to them.
An idiot savant, one of the Watchers on the Watch muttered. Well, sometimes just an idiot.
The maturing of the process took time. Mistakes had been made on both sides. This was not exactly a rapprochement, because the uncanny thing, as they well knew, was that all those prophecies had come true. That the country had been destroyed, was in the process of being destroyed. That dark times were ahead. Indeed. That the mistakes of the political class were writ large across the slave population, that there would be suffering, that the false normality they were currently experiencing would not, could not last.
We built our dreams and squandered them, sometimes, just as sometimes we squandered our talents and opportunities; as individuals, as a species within a species, a genetic variant they now increasingly understood.
Everything could be isolated. Everything could be manufactured. Everything, now, with super computers, could finally be determined.
How we came to be entangled with a far greater world.
And so it would be. This rare gift carried not just across millennium, but across galaxies, born on galactic winds, a secret code within an already complex code.
They walked among mammals. They moved between trees. A single seed unfolded into this. They gazed through him with utter fascination; perhaps most at trees, how complex they were, how they grew from such a tiny thing, but also the birds, there were no birds on their world.
The machines hummed; one could say. Blinked in weak red light. All was not lost. Indiscretions could be papered over. Movement could be found in all of us.
I salute you. We salute you.
The lioness, every so carefully, ever so slowly, ever so planned and determined, placed another paw on the savanna floor.
We were alive and so are you. This morning is amazing and so are you.
Or as the late Leonard Cohen put it: "I wish there was a treaty we could sign."
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