And again there was a silence, as perfect and deep as anything I’d ever experienced, either then or since.
“f**k,” I said.
“Yeah,” said Fiona. “Fuck.”
I looked at the sparse starfield illuminated in her beam.
“They’re all gone,” I said, and lowered my flashlight. “Everyone who ever touched this. Those who first sowed it; those who stood in its shadow. Those who built this building to preserve it—all gone.”
“Yeah,” whispered Fiona. “It’s just us.”
“I don’t know, big sis—I mean ‘babe.’ But do you ever wonder if—like, we’re doing the right thing?”
“No.”
“Okay. Well. Why is that, exactly?”
“Because there is no right thing. I mean, maybe there was ... before the universe just—went bugfuck. Before everyone just vanished. But now? What’s right and what’s wrong, Leif? I mean, what could p
