"I thought for a long time," said Caster, "that men were stewards of all the world. Not only was all owned by us already, but it was our duty to survey it, to excavate it, and to measure it. To use every mark of strength and drop of science to master Creation. To put a girdle around the Earth. To speak with the voices of Angels. To renounce mastery over the material like this, to watch as all of these things built of dust and ashes to ashes return..."

He gently pulled forth from his coat a device of brass, copper and dark wood. It didn't look like anything, certainly not like anything that had grown from it. Seeds rarely resemble their trees.

"But now I see," he said quietly. "The needle's eye."

Goodbye can't be a gentle thing at this stage. It's too late to gently set it down and watch as the fire crawls over it; the bonfire is lit, and its force is a wall of heat. So he needs to take a deep breath and remember a skill he has not had cause to use since he was a boy.

And he throws the first telephone onto the fire.

As it goes, he begins to fade. Motes of light drift off him, his spiriton body unable to sustain itself without a legend to animate it. "A new hello," he said, thoughtfully. "You know, I never thought to give you such a thing? Allow me to correct myself: I am Pedro, and for a while I was the second and final Emperor of Brazil. It has been a pleasure to make your acquaintance."