Birthright

looked suspicious. “Not quite,” said the man. “You know that we also have the power to destroy this planet and everything on it.”

“We know that.”

“I'll make you a deal,” said the man. “If you'll let us remain here, alive and unharmed, I'll allow you and your forces to leave. We have no desire to die, nor to kill anyone else.” “You have no desire to kill anyone,” said the Kragan emotionlessly, “and yet you came down here to threaten us with complete and total destruction. Is it any wonder that we cannot allow you to survive?” “But we are the last!” said the man. “When you have killed us, the race of Man will have ceased to exist.”

“Yes,” said the Kragan. It did not sound regretful. “It was Man that gave form and structure to the galaxy. We've played too important a role in the scheme of history to die as a race. Surely you must be able to see some value in keeping a remnant of us alive.” “As you kept remnants of other races alive?” asked the Kragan. “How many species has Man exterminated in his brief lifetime? How many worlds has he ground to dust and ash?” “But damn it,I didn't do those things!” cried the man in exasperation.

“Left to live, you would,” said the Kragan. “You already contemplate doing so with this very planet.”

“Give me an alternative,” pleaded the man. “Any alternative.” “The alternative,” said the Kragan patiently, “is not to destroy the planet.” “Then let us live in peace!”

“You are a Man,” said the Kragan. “For you to live in peace is a contradiction in terms.” “Keep us imprisoned on this planet, then,” said the man. “Destroy our ship and patrol the skies so that we can never leave again.”

“Your ship is already destroyed,” said the Kragan. “And you will never leave again. Have you anything further to say?”

The man looked up at the stars for the last time, sighed, and shook his head. “No,” he said. “Then return to your companions,” said the Kragan. “We will not honor any further truces.” The man trudged slowly up the mountain. “Well?” asked the second woman.

“We're no worse off than before,” said the man. “That's not saying a hell of a lot,” said the second woman. “I assume we're also not any better off?” “No.” He looked around the cave. “How long is the food good for?” “Two days if we eat hearty,” said the third woman. “Maybe a week if we scrimp.” “Why scrimp?” said the second woman. “If we're going to die, let's at least do so with full stomachs.” “Right,” said the first woman. “Death by slow starvation isn't one of the nicer ways to go.” “There is no nice way,” said the man. “If only those damned Kragans would listen to reason!” “But they won't,” said the third woman. “Damn it!” said the man. “We've meant too much to the galaxy just to die like this! They could save us. Keep this place a planetary prison or zoo or whatever they wanted to do with us, and just let us live. It can't end like this! We've gone too far, done too much, to die in this forgotten little hellhole with nobody around to notice. Damn it all—we'reMen!' “Bravo!” said the second woman, clapping her hands sarcastically. “What a pity those words can't be engraved on the wall of the cave.”

“You may be content to sit here and wait for death,” said the man, “but if we can't live, then I think we should at least die with some kind of gesture, something they may remember us for.”

“We could all kneel down in front of the Kragans and pray while their firing squad mowed us down,”

said the second woman with a laugh.

“Or write down your touching little speech and put it in a bottle in the hope that someone will find it someday,” added the third woman.

“Stop your snickering!” snapped the man. “If we're going to die, at least we ought to go about it right.” “And what is the right way for a race to die?” said the second woman. “Not by sitting around moaning and cackling, that's for sure!” said the man. “Don't you want somebody to know we've been here, that this is where Man met his end?” “Who do you propose to tell?” asked the second woman. “I don't know,” said the man. “Somebody.” He looked around the cave and his eyes fell on the device. “Everybody.” He walked over and knelt down next to it. “At least they'll know we didn't go out like lambs to the slaughter, that we fought to the very end to preserve all that was Man.” He reached out and pressed the button.

It was glorious.

EPILOGUE: 587TH MILLENNIUM

Eons passed, and Man—or something very like him—slithered out of the slime, sprouted limbs, developed thumbs. He stood erect, saw the stars for the first time, and knew that they must someday be his....

AUTHOR'S AFTERWORD

Every science fiction writer ought to take a shot at a galaxy-and-eons-spanning novel. With Olaf Stapledon, it wasStar Maker .

With Isaac Asimov, it was theFoundation Trilogy . With me, it wasBirthright: The Book of Man . I wrote it in 1979, sold it to New American Library in 1980, and thought I was done with it. Little did I know.

My editor, Sheila Gilbert, thought it was a shame to waste two million worlds, twelve thousand sentient races, and seventeen thousand years of future history, and asked me if I would be willing to setThe Soul Eater , which I'd already sold to her, in the “Birthright universe.” I replied that if she'd settle for four or

five references to races and planets that had been mentioned inBirthright: The Book of Man , I had no objection. And that's what I did, and that was the end of it. Until I sold herWalpurgis III and theTales of the Galactic Midway tetralogy and theTales of the Velvet Comet tetralogy, and she asked me to placethem into the Birthright Universe (it had by now

become a proper noun) too.

When I moved to Tor Books, I found that Beth Meacham, my editor there, also liked the Birthright

Universe, and so I setSantiago andIvory and most of my other novels there. And, in the process, a funny thing happened: I got to where Iliked placing my books in the Birthright Universe, where indeed I felt uncomfortable on those increasingly rare occasions when Ididn't use it. When I sold theOracle Trilogy to Ace and theWidowmaker Trilogy to Bantam, it was a given that they'd be set in the Birthright Universe too. Until 1994, I had placed a ton of novels in the Birthright Universe, but had kept my short fiction out of it. That came to an end when I wrote a novella entitled “Seven Views of Olduvai Gorge'; it immediately went out and won a Hugo, a Nebula, and a number of lesser awards, and I think I'll probably set some more short fiction there in the future.

A local fan did yeoman work by creating a chronology of the Birthright Universe, which I reproduce here; it includes all work contracted through the end of 1995. (I hired another fan to keep an up-to-date concordance of the Birthright Universe, so I can keep the worlds, races, and eras consistent; it currently runs to well over 100 single-spaced pages, which I find both fascinating and just a little bit terrifying.) Chronology of the universe created in BIRTHRIGHT: THE BOOK OF MAN Year Era Story or Novel

1885 A.D. “The Hunter” (IVORY)

1898 A.D. “Himself” (IVORY)

1982 A.D. SIDESHOW

1983 A.D. THE THREE-LEGGED HOOTCH DANCER 1985 A.D. THE WILD ALIEN TAMER

1987 A.D. THE BEST ROOTIN’ TOOTIN’ SHOOTIN’ GUNSLINGER IN THE WHOLE DAMNED GALAXY

2057 A.D. “The Politician” (IVORY)

2908 A.D. 1 G.E.

16 G.E. Republic “The Curator” (IVORY)

264 G.E. Republic “The Pioneers” (BIRTHRIGHT) 332 G.E. Republic “The Cartographers” (BIRTHRIGHT) 346 G.E. Republic WALPURGIS III

367 G.E. Republic EROS ASCENDING

396 G.E. Republic “The Miners” (BIRTHRIGHT)

401 G.E. Republic EROS AT