It was the year 12,000 according to the System’s calendar and Lak Dhrow sat at his desk in the royal library, writing. Outside spring had come once again to Mars; the canal trees were in bloom, and the air was filled with sweet scents and sounds. But Lak Dhrow continued with his work, unheeding.
His labor of thirty years was nearing completion. A few more details to add in the pre-space Earth period, a few more touches to the introduction and he could write finis to his history of the Solar System. It had been a herculean undertaking. Even now, though he alone had written and stylized every one of its millions of words and designed and charted each of its thousands of graphs and figures, he could remember little beyond the chapter on Venus.
A chime sounded at the door, and the Oligarch e
