Prologue

Simply put, memory was a funny thing.

To Richard, it was usually nothing more than a fickle bitch.

To a person in his condition - and truthfully, he knew of no one else in existence with the same predicament – memories were something of a mild comfort. As everyone he once knew had slowly begun to die off, and as new recruits took their place, memory seemed to prevail as his only ally in uncertain times. Jacob, of course, knew what he was going through, but only to an extent. For unlike Richard, Jacob didn't have memories of a personal nature, or any passing acquaintances to mourn. He had simply always existed here…he had no previous life to miss.

But Richard found that with time, his earliest, deepest memories began to slowly fade. They still existed, but ended up pushed back into a darker and dustier corner of his mind. Even memories of those who had been most important to him at one time. His mother, father, siblings. At most times, unless he stopped to really consider it, he couldn't even remember their names.

As time drew on in a never-ending line, recollection began to reshape itself for Richard. It was no longer a comfort or even a friend. It was just another human faculty that had ultimately failed him. He was used to rejecting human nature.

But then she was born, and he fell in love with memory again. He welcomed his ability to be present for so many important moments of her life, in one way or another, and he relished in the opportunity to recall them so vividly. Something was different about these memories; they became tangible and he knew they wouldn't rust with the strain of time.

"But she will," Jacob took every opportunity to remind him. "I've given you something special, Richard. It cannot be replicated. Do not take it for granted."

Richard didn't take anything Jacob had given him for granted. He knew better.

But this…this was going to be hard.

O you youths, Western youths,
So impatient, full of action, full of manly pride and friendship,
Plain I see you Western youths, see you tramping with the foremost,
Pioneers! O pioneers!

Have the elder races halted?
Do they droop and end their lesson, wearied over there beyond the seas?
We take up the task eternal, and the burden and the lesson,
Pioneers! O pioneers!

Walt Whitman, "O Pioneers!"