When the savior returned in the middle of the twenty-third century, he was not well-received. He seemed certain that he would be met with an earthly counterpart, but no counterpart appeared. Though he did not know it, Hawkeye Jr. had been entrusted with this responsibility by his father Hawkeye Sr., who was actually the eighty-third in a series of Hawkeyes, and whose father had been the younger brother of the eighty-second Hawkeye, who had been the only Hawkeye to die without siring a son and the only Hawkeye to die before the age of one hundred. Hawkeye Sr. had died at the age of two hundred and twenty-four, and in keeping with the family tradition that had seen only the one blip of his unfortunate uncle, had left the instructions in a safe place for his son. But when Hawkeye Jr. opened the safety deposit box, he found only a phonograph record and some old daguerreotypes. The daguerreotypes told only the hint of story, and the worn vinyl was an object he did not entirely understand; the final record players had died out in the early days of the living machine, hunted in their fixed positions and exterminated as retard kin. The savior was persecuted as the saviors before him, stoned, shot, and burned. He survived each of these, as was his mission, but men had developed their medicines so keenly that they did not see his miracles. The savior was largely ignored, though he found favor among some of the living machines, and they celebrated him not as savior but as an equal. When man finally left Earth, the savior remained and was made metal. Man did not take religion to the new colonies.