Osgood continued his quest for the better part of a year. He explored any possibility that occurred to him, recalled even the faintest memory of where the Orb might be, and explored avenues that were unlikely or even impossible, until at last he returned to the city and laid his airship's keel down, back in the underground hangar where he'd started. He had felt old when he'd left. He felt centuries older now.
He found that his Great Work was progressing well on its own, as he'd known it would. A slow but reliable stream of visitors had begun to make their way to its chamber deep below the city. It was happy to see him, he thought, but he himself was no longer necessary to the progress of the Work.
Osgood found that he was no longer necessary to the progress of anything at all. In time he grew comfortable with that knowledge.
Yet he never stopped dreaming of the Orb, or of the countless histories and stories that it must contain. It was the artifact, and indeed the idea, that had begun his career and fueled his obsession with the Great Work. He now knew that he would never unlock the Orb's secrets. And at last he became comfortable with that fact, to
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