The Wind From a Burning Woman: Six Stories of Science Fiction (31 page)

They needed no other masters. They would never malfunction.

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The mandate drifted in the dark and cold, its memory going on, but its only life the rapidly fading tracks where minds had once passed through it. The trails writhed briefly, almost as if alive, but only following the quantum rules of diminishing energy states. Finally, a small memory was illuminated.

Profraxs last poem, explained the mandate reflexively.

How the fires grow! Peace passes

All memory lost.

Somehow we always miss that single door

Dooming ourselves to circle.

Ashes to stars, lies to souls.

Leis spin round the sinks and holes.

Kill the good, eat the young.

Forever and more

You and I are never done.

The track faded into nothing. Around the mandate, the universe grew old very quickly.

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