"You know what I will do," Cainen said. "When we first met you told me that you believed that I wanted to live, and you were right. But as I said earlier, that was a different place and a different time. In this time and place, I want to be released. If it means I do it alone, than I will be alone. But I hope that will not be the case."

"It won't," Sagan said. "I accept, Cainen. I will be your second."

"From the depths of my soul I thank you, Lieutenant Sagan, my friend." Cainen looked to Wilson, who was crying. "And you, Harry? I asked you to attend me before and you refused. I ask you again."

Wilson nodded, violently. "Yes," he said. "I'll do it, you lousy son of a bitch. I'll be there when you die."

"Thank you, Harry," Cainen said, and once again turned to Sagan. "I need two days to bring things to a close here. Will you come to visit me on the third day, in the evening?"

"I'll be there," Sagan said.

"Your combat knife, I think, should be sufficient," Cainen said.

"If that's what you want," Sagan said. "Is there anything else you would have me do for you?"

"Only one other thing," Cainen said. "And I'll understand if you can't do it."

"Name it," Sagan said.

"I was born on the colony of Fala," Cainen said. "I grew up there. When I die, if I can, I'd like to return there. I know it will be a difficult thing to manage."

"I'll manage it," Sagan said. "Even if I have to take you there myself. I promise it, Cainen. I promise that you'll go home."

A month after Zoe and Sagan returned to Phoenix Station, Sagan took Zoe on a shuttle to visit the gravestone of her parents.

The shuttle pilot was Lieutenant Cloud, who asked after Jared. Sagan told him that he had passed on. Lieutenant Cloud was quiet for a moment and then began telling Sagan the jokes that Jared had told him. Sagan laughed.

At the gravestone, Sagan stood while Zoe knelt and read the names of her parents, clearly and calmly. Over the month, Sagan had seen Zoe change from the tentative girl she'd first met, seemingly younger than she really was, asking plaintively for her father, to someone happier and more talkative and closer to the age she was. Which was, as it happened, only a little younger than Sagan.

"My name is here," Zoe said, tracing the name with her finger.

"For a while, when you were first taken, your father thought you were dead," Sagan said.

"Well, I'm not dead," Zoe said, defiantly.

"No," Sagan said, and smiled. "No, you definitely are not."

Zoe put her hand on her father's name. "He's not really here, is he?" Zoe asked. "Here under me."

"No," Sagan said. "He died on Arist. That was where you were before we came here."

"I know," Zoe said, and looked over to Sagan. "Mr. Jared died there too, didn't he?"

"He did," Sagan said.

"He said he knew me, but I didn't really remember him," Zoe said.

"He did know you, but it's hard to explain," Sagan said. "I'll explain it to you when you're older."

Zoe looked at the tombstone again. "All the people who knew me have gone away," she said, in a small, singsong voice. "All my people are gone."

Sagan got down on her knees behind Zoe and gave her a small but fierce hug. "I'm so sorry, Zoe."

"I know," Zoe said. "I'm sorry too. I miss Daddy and Mommy and I even miss Mr. Jared a little, even though I didn't know him very much."

"I know they miss you too," Sagan said. She came around to face Zoe. "Listen, Zoe, soon I'm going to be going to a colony, where I'm going to live. If you want, you can come with me."

"Will it just be you and me?" Zoe said.

"Well, you and me and a man I love very much," Sagan said.

"Will I like him?" Zoe asked.

"I think so," Sagan said. "I like him, and I like you, so it stands to reason you would like each other. You, me, and him."

"Like a family," Zoe said.

"Yes, like a family," Sagan said. "Very much like one."

"But I already have a daddy and a mommy," Zoe said.

"I know, Zoe," said Sagan. "I would never want you to forget them, ever. John and I would just be the two grown-ups who will be very lucky to get to live with you."

"John," Zoe said. "John and Jane. John and Jane and Zoe."

"John and Jane and Zoe," Sagan repeated.

"John and Jane and Zoe," Zoe said, standing up and moving to the rhythms of the names. "John and Jane and Zoe. John and Jane and Zoe! I like that," Zoe said.

"I like it too," Sagan said.

"Well, okay then," Zoe said. "And now I'm hungry."

Sagan laughed. "Well then, let's get you something to eat."

"Okay," Zoe said. "Let me say bye-bye to Mommy and Daddy." She ran to the headstone and planted a kiss on it. "I love you," she said, and then raced back to Sagan, and took her hand. "I'm ready. Let's eat."

"Okay," Sagan said. "What would you like?"

"What do we have?" Zoe said.

"There are lots of choices," Sagan said. "Pick one."

"All right," Zoe said. "I'm very good at making choices, you know."

"Well," Sagan said, hugging the girl close. "I'm so very glad to hear it."

First off, to everyone who thinks writing a sequel should be easy because you've already created the universe: Bwa ha ha ha ha ha ha! Heh. No.

With that in mind, allow me to first acknowledge my editor, Patrick Nielsen Hayden, for occasionally dropping me a casual e-mail to let me know much he was looking forward to reading the next chapter, rather than strangling me dead, which he probably should have done and may yet do, because now he's gotten the entire manuscript and there's no penalty in doing so (unless he wants another book).

Other absolutely magnificent Tor people who deserve

Olove and/or chocolates: Teresa Nielsen Hayden, Liz Gorinsky, Irene Gallo, the dearly departed Fiona Lee (she's alive, just in China), Dot Lin and Tom Doherty. However, as a general rule, everyone who works at Tor deserves love and/or chocolates, and I'm not just saying that because I've made them suffer by blowing deadlines. Well, maybe a bit. But it doesn't make it any less true. Thanks also to Rich Klin, for truly heroic copyediting.

Admit it: You think the cover rocks. Well, it's true, it does, and we all have John Harris to thank for that.

Thanks as ever to Ethan Ellenberg, my agent, whose judicious wrangling of contracts is a sight to behold.

One of the reasons that exists is that the first book in the series, Old Man's War, was fortunate enough to have been praised online by folks whose taste in books is trusted by their readers. I thank all of them and add special thanks to Glenn Reynolds, Cory Doctorow, Stephen Green, Stephen Bainbridge and Eugene Volokh. If you ever wondered if online word of mouth worked, by the way: Oh, my, yes.

If you're wondering why particular things in the book seem so good, the short answer is because I've seen them work in other books and said, "What an excellent thing. I think I'll steal that." Writers from whom I've consciously stolen include Nick Sagan (his consciousness transference idea, used to excellent effect in Edenborn), Scott Westerfeld (whose awesome space battles in The Risen Empire and The Killing of Worlds will make you weep with joy) and David Brin, whose concept of "Uplift" (see: The Uplift War) gets a quick ping. Thanks also to the various SF/F authors I namecheck throughout the book.

As ever, Regan Avery served indispensably as my reader of first resort. Every writer should have a Regan. But you can't have Regan Avery. She's mine. Grrrrrrrrrrr.

Chad Brink mailed me a copy of one of my books to sign, and it took me several months to return it to him. In fact, I may still have it here. I figure putting him in the acknowledgments of this book makes up for being a bad book-mailer-backer. Also, clearly, you should not mail your books to me to sign. It's not you, it's me.