Bern was reading a book on the porch; I was cooking dinner.

And then I felt the swell of the gate as it opened up.

"So," I said softly, "they're back." You don't just get to be Waymaster by taking over the gate's location. No, I was still Waymaster until I forfeited my position.

Which I was probably going to do.

I sighed as I looked out from the kitchen onto the lake. I'd tried to keep the Earth isolated for as long as I could. After all, Earth would be eaten alive were it to be exposed to the galactic jungle. Humans, intelligent but relatively infantile sapients, would be conquered and sold as slaves throughout the universe. Then, Earth would be stripped of natural resources and cast off. Perhaps if Earth were located closer to the Core, invaders might want to preserve Earth and use the planet for trade or as a population dump.

Unfortunately, Earth's location was as abysmal as they come.

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It has always seemed like a fairly hopeless situation to me. Because of that, I've kept the gate under tight wraps and I've tried to ensure no word of alien life has reached Earth's populace. All this has been contingent on humanity's ability to survive and stake out a claim in the vast universe.

I'm still not convinced that alone, even with recent advances, us humans can survive. Then again, what would it take for that to happen? Humanity will have to close an enormous technological gap, hundreds of thousands of years in the making on the fringes of the rim alone.

There is only one reason why I have any inkling to pass on my role as Waymaster onto another: the only naturalized alien on Earth, Bath. We've investigated him, tried to find out his motivations for causing huge car crashes on a few highways and other miscellaneous things. In the end, we decided it was, oddly enough, ecoterrorism.

"Lisa," I clucked softly out loud. "You've made quite the companion."

In all my years, I've started to realize that fate and destiny aren't as abstract as modern people would have us think.

What else could have brought my niece and Bath together? A kursi to rival any I've ever met and a powerful, ancient being with a stake in Earth's preservation? Together, perhaps...

"They'll come here eventually," Bern said from the porch below. "You can make your decision then."

I sighed, then went back to chopping vegetables. He was right: no use in worrying until they came.