Wall Around a Star

SIX

Something wakes me ...

Is it time?

I stretch out in my sleep and taste the troubling emana­tions from my watchers and my slaves. A ship has been invaded, an invader wiped out. There is nothing there to justify disturbing my sleep. But it is troubling.

I reach out to the farthest of my watchers and my slaves. One is floating in the all but liquid air of a giant planet With a ruddy, dark sun; one moves about a queer old city, far from her crustacean slaves; one has died on the surface of a cratered rock in the heat of a blazing star.

There is nothing to trouble me in any of this, or in any of the others. But I am troubled.

I have been troubled before by stupid slaves, by fools forgetful of their origins and their destiny, by craven idiots who rose against me, thinking to destroy even HIM. They were themselves inevitably erased. HIS misguided enemies have forever been erased and forever will be, with no need to disturb HIM. Until HIS time, there will never be trou­ble. There cannot be, for HIS plan allows no trouble.

HIS time? Is it near?

I reach out to every slaved being and instrument, and I find nothing. It is not yet time for HIM.

But soon.

I return to sleep, and to the waiting of many million years.