Abigail—Age 15, Generation 2

We had always been lost, but it never felt that way. Not with them around. But today, I think I finally understand how they must’ve felt in those first few years. I’m scared.

It is just Terr and me against an unforgiving universe.

The Primes gave us purpose—clear and direct—but I can’t fight this overwhelming sensation of hopelessness.

The Cube feels cold. The silence is deafening. I miss them so much.

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I know it will pass. It has to. They worked too hard for Terr and me to throw it all away. We will find our stride. We will find our place in the universe. And if we can’t find it, then we will make it.

Abby pulled me aside a few sleeps before her death. She gave me a reminder—one to pass along to the next generation, the one after that, and so on.

“Stay single. . . minded. . . stay. . . unyielding. Press on. . . forever, my. . . dear.”

Her words have surfaced in my dreams every night since.

My prime made it clear that if even one generation succumbs to distraction and strays from the course, our mission could be lost forever. It terrified me to think about all of their work—all of our work—being thrown away by a selfish descendant. She trusted Terrence but was all too aware of his easily excitable enthusiasm. If his interest is left to run amok, it could be disastrous.

I am sure that when we create Generation 3, they will be instilled with the same values that we have. And I will refuse to die before I see these values passed on to the generation they will raise.