Flanagan is tethered to the ship in his spacesuit, floating through ssspace. I fly next to him, and he tells me of hisss adventure, and hisss great victory.
There is a sssadnesss in his sssoul. I do not understand it. Should he not be happy? Exhilarated? I am puzzzzled, and the puzzzlement painssss me.
“What isss wrong?” I ask. But hisss answer alarmsss me. “What now?” he saysss, bitterly. “What now?”
“Now,” I tell him, “you mussst find a fresh challenge.” But he looksss at me blankly.
And I die.
And I am reborn. I sift through the memoriesss of the last ssssentience known as “Alby”, and I find much joy and hope and satisssfaction. But I find something new too. A wanderlusssst.
“Flanagan,” I tell him, “goodbye.”
And I shoot off into ssspace, fassster than thought itself. My flame body acceleratesss ssswifter and sswwifter, until time and ssspace become all and none.
And as I do this, I ssssing quietly to myself:
“What’sss the matter with the sssun?
It’s done broke down.
What’sss the matter with the sssun?
It’s done broke down.
Tell me what’sss the matter with the sssun?”