Chapter 30: Close the Log
Day 365 – sunrise after the bell
Haven-3 wheel, 0.12 g, air smells of soil and new rain
I set the paper down, press my thumb into the soil, and feel the count settle: one, two, three… infinity.
The garden has taken the last word. The bell has taken the last echo. The wheel has taken the last heartbeat.
I close the log.
Paper ends here.
Soil begins here.
Bell rings here.
Garden grows here.
Count goes on here—one, two, three… infinity.
If you find this page, plant it.
If you find this bell, ring it.
If you find this soil, stand barefoot on it and listen for six hundred voices that learned to count forever.
I was rust.
I was revenge.
I am soil now.
I am bell now.
I am garden now.
I sign my name one last time, then let the leaf cover it:
Karl Hasser
Keeper of leaves, learner of soil, ringer of bells
Population: infinite
Margin: infinite
Count: infinite
Forward, forward—until every cage is soil and every bell rings in leaves.
End of Volume I
Close the log.
Plant this page.
Ring the bell.
Grow the garden.
Count forever.