The Galaxy, and the Ground Within (Wayfarers #4)(93)
She dug a small hole with her trowel, retrieved one of the capsules, and unsealed the lid. Nothing about the plant changed, of course, but she knew that with the seal broken, the tiny stasis gadget inside had shut down. The cells within the plant were now waking from their interstellar slumber, remembering how to ferry water and carbon, how to make sugar from sunlight.
As gently as she could, she pulled the gel-cased roots from their container, and placed the delicate plant in the waiting ground. She brushed dirt around it with her paws, tucking the roots in, making sure the stem had the purchase needed to stand on its own. The gel would dissolve, in time; the roots would spread far, forever seeking. She cleaned some dirt off a leaf with the tip of her toepad, and nodded with satisfaction. This might not be her favourite part about having a garden, but she couldn’t deny that lush little plants in a fresh bed looked awfully nice. Nothing felt quite so clean and pleasing as the start of something new.
She picked up her trowel, and dug another hole.
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ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Ending a series is bittersweet, especially given how seismically this one shifted my life. Like all big things, I could never have done this alone.
On the professional side, the biggest of thanks to Molly Powell, Oliver Johnson, and Seth Fishman for their constant support and good advice. Hugs all around to the amazing teams at both Hodder & Stoughton and Harper Voyager US, as well as to my publishers worldwide.
On the personal side, thanks to Susana, who helped me reverse engineer some tricky bits, and who usually knows what I’m trying to say better than I do. Thanks to Greg, the best Girl Friday and my friend forever. Thanks to the Hammers for charging my creative batteries when nothing else would. Thanks to my friends and family for putting up with my nonsense, yet again. Thanks to my wife, Berglaug, who brings me more joy than all the words in the dictionary and stars in the sky. (Is that too sappy? Probably. I don’t care. If only one scrap of my writing outlives me, I want it to be the one that says that I loved her, and so I will write it wherever I can.)
I’ve said this many a time before, but here’s one more for the road: neither me nor these books would be anywhere if it weren’t for legions of people who I don’t know at all. To my backers and fans, to the lovely people I’ve met the world over, to everybody who wrote me letters and hugged me at cons and told me their own stories and cracked me up and made me cry – I will never, ever be able to tell you how grateful I am. Thank you for this amazing ride. I can’t wait to show you what’s next.