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Page 75.

Alex flew through the night fast and hard, on afterburners, to the ancient site of Beacham University where their past resided.

Maryan sat with her legs crossed, leaning against him as best she could in her bucket seat. “So this is what happened to Robinson Crusoe after he was rescued.” She laughed. “Well, sort of. He didn’t take Friday with him, did he?” She looked at him tenderly. “That was all different, wasn’t it?”

He nodded. “I’m glad you’re not some hairy guy with a bone through his nose.” She laughed, and he added: “I know just the right spot to settle down for the night.” He flew the boat slowly down and landed on his sky island. Chickens squawked and pigs squealed, running around in circles as the boat set down. The boat sat cooling on the hard earth under a clear starry sky haunted by the loudness of crickets. Wind stirred in palm trees. A faint smell of burned hay rose from under the still-hot engines, and the boat’s metal skin banged and popped as it cooled.

Alex and Maryan sat nearby under the stars, arms wrapped around each other. They stared into the Milky Way and cheered each time a meteorite flashed across the sky. The smudge beside the moon looked more romantic than mysterious now, Alex thought. He was still haunted by the sight of dead young men and women drifting in its spaces, but there was plenty of time now to clean the place up.

She nuzzled against him. “I think I am pregnant.”

“What?” He sat back, looked at her from a distance of a foot or two. “You can’t be. We are sterile.”

She shook her head, touching his nose with her fingertip. “Nope. Trust me on this. I’ve got all the ancient female plumbing going.”

He was almost too overcome for words. “Then Rector did us at least that favor when he rescued us from the river up in Wooloo! land. Are you sure you’re not just having a stomach ache? All that ice cream?”

She shook her head, remembering things from the original Maryan’s time. “Not if these cramps I’m having mean what I think they do, sweetie.” She touched him on the tip of the nose again. “We’ve started the new human race earlier than we thought.”

“And here I was, driving around over bumps all afternoon like a maniac.”

She shrugged. “We’re a pretty sturdy bunch, we humans.”

He thought of all their kind had endured, starting with long-ago ice ages, ten thousand years of internecine warfare, and eons of governance by Rector. “True.”

She rose. “I’m getting cold. Time to go in.” She reached toward him. Hand in hand, they walked across the grass toward the boat’s door. With soft yellowish light glowing inside, the boat almost gave the illusion of an ancient mobile home parked on top of a cliff, its owners having stepped out for a breath of air before resuming watching the evening’s television programs and commercials. “Sorry, you’re sleeping on the couch tonight,” she said.

“Nothing much changes, does it?” he said with a wry grin.

Crickets chirped on the sky island, and a sea of stars above mirrored a sea of lights below in the churning sea with its slowly inhaling and exhaling breaker breaths.

“Just kidding.” She yanked gently on his arm. “For the first time ever, we are safe--like eons ago when Alex Kirk lived in the suburbs.”

“It's our first night in the suburbs,” he said as they clambered into the warmth and comfort inside the boat. He embraced her warm, slender body. She responded in kind, tilting her head back and closing her eyes in readiness for his attentions. While he held her tightly and kissed her, he used one foot to gently push the door so it locked safely shut.