Book 3: Chapter 55: Offsite
Bill
December 2243
Epsilon Eridani
I looked down upon Ragnarök, and it was good. I chuckled to myself, glad that I hadn’t said that out loud. Garfield would never let me live it down.
Still, it was hard not to feel a little god-like. The seas were finally connecting to form oceans. Atmospheric oxygen was up, noxious gasses were down. My moss/lichen mix had taken hold and was swiftly turning the orbital view from a rocky brown/gray to a muted green. I’d planted some conifers and grasses, and they hadn’t immediately grabbed their veggie throats and fallen over, dead.
Time to think about building the food chain, from plankton in the ocean on up.
I pinged Garfield, then popped in. “Hey, Gar. We haven’t done an in-person tour of Ragnarök in a while. You up for one?”
Garfield shook his head. “Sorry, Bill, Rocky IV is not quite ready. I’ve pared down the wing size, but I don’t have enough supporting musculature. I’m adjusting it.”
I shrugged, but I was disappointed. Our races across the landscape of Ragnarök, moose versus weird Rodan-like bat-thing, were highlights of my otherwise stressful life. Preparing for the possible arrival of the Others provided all the excitement and variety of the worst dead-end office job.