In the shallow depression, magically out of sight of the houses and other adults except for the parents of some of those here, the children clambered off and sprawled on the banks of the grassy bowl. John sat the closest to Orphu, as he usually did. He looked back, saw his father, and waved but did not come back to say hello. The story came first.

Harman, still standing with Ada, Sarah snoring in his arms now—Ada’s arm having almost fallen asleep—noticed Mahnmut standing near the line of hedges. Harman nodded but the small moravec’s attention was on his old friend and the children.

“Tell the Gilgamesh story again,” shouted one of the bolder six-year-old boys.

The huge crab-monster slowly moved its carapace back and forth, as if shaking its head no. “That story’s finished for now,” rumbled Orphu. “Today we start a new one.”

The children cheered.

“This one is going to take a long time to tell,” said Orphu, his rumble sounding reassuring and engaging even to Harman.

The children cheered again. Two of the boys tumbled and rolled down the little hill together.

“Listen carefully,” said Orphu. One of his long, articulated manipulators had carefully separated the boys and set them gently on the slope, a few feet apart. Their attention turned immediately to the big moravec’s booming, mesmerizing voice.

“Rage—Sing, Goddess, sing the rage of Peleus’ son Achilles, murderous, doomed, sing of the rage that cost the Achaeans countless losses, hurling down into Hades’ Dark House so many sturdy souls, great fighters’ souls, heroes’ souls, but also made their bodies carrion, feasts for the dogs and birds, even as Zeus’s will was done. Begin, O Muse, when the two first argued and clashed, the Greek king Agamemnon, lord of men, and the brilliant, godlike Achilles…”

Acknowledgments

I would like to thank Jean-Daniel Breque for his permission to use the details of one of his favorite walks down the avenue Daumesnil and the rest of that Promenade Plantée. A full description of this delightful walk can be found in Jean-Daniel’s essay “Green Tracks” in the Time Out Book of Paris Walks, published by Penguin.

I also would like to thank Professor Keith Nightenhelser for his suggestion of the Renoir-as-Creator quote from The Guermantes Way.

Finally, I would like to thank Jane Kathryn Simmons for permission to reprint her poem “Still Born” as it appears on p. 571.

About the Author

DAN SIMMONS is the author of the critically acclaimed suspense novel The Crook Factory, as well as the award-winning Hyperion, The Fall of Hyperion, their sequel, Endymion, and The Rise of Endymion. He is also the author of Song of Kali, Carrion Comfort, Fires of Eden, and several other respected works. A former teacher, Mr. Simmons makes his home in Colorado.

Don’t miss the next book by your favorite author. Sign up now for AuthorTracker by visiting www.AuthorTracker.com.