'Oh, my lord,' he said. 'You're one of mine, aren't you?'
'I guess I am,' Simon said.
'Look at you. I was afraid they'd exterminated the whole lot. But here you are.'
'Here I am,' Simon said.
'Remarkable. You're the only one, you know. I implanted a dozen of them. I suppose the others have all been deactivated.'
'Marcus has.'
'I'm not good with names.' 'He was one of yours.' 'And he's no longer with us.'
'He was my friend. Well, we traveled together. I needed him to maximize my own chances.'
'I'm sorry for your loss,' Emory said.
'What's going to happen on June 21?'
'That's when we take off for the new world.'
'What new world?' said Luke.
'I'm taking us to another planet.'
'In that old wreck?' Luke scowled at the spacecraft.
'It's old. It's not a wreck. It should do just fine.'
'So you say.'
'Why did you want us to come here on the twenty-first of June?' Simon asked.
'I'd figured out the coordinates years ago. June 21 of this year is when the orbital alignments are optimal. I put a homing device in the final production run, before Biologe shut me down. I thought that if any of you found your way back in time, the least I could do was take you with me.'
'You want me to go with you to another planet?'
'You're certainly welcome, yes. You and your friends.'
'What kind of other planet?' Luke asked.
'Oh, well, there's a great deal to tell you, isn't there? First, I want you to meet my wife.'
He glanced back into the work area. He said, 'Othea, would you come here for a moment, please?'
He appeared to be addressing the Nadian woman, the one wearing the kimono. She did not turn from her console. 'Busy,' she said.
'Just for a moment. Please.'
The Nadian rose reluctantly and approached. 'Really,' she said. 'Do you have any idea how little time is left?'
'We have visitors,' Emory said. 'At this late date?' 'We've got room.'
The Nadian came and stood beside Emory. She had an aspect of ferocious intention. Her little green head protruded from the neck of her kimono like a sober idea the kimono itself was having.
'This is Othea,' Emory said. 'My wife.'
Othea craned her neck forward and looked intently at Catareen. She said, 'Cria dossa Catareen Callatura?'
Catareen hesitated. She said, 'Lup.' Emory said, 'You two have met?'
Othea said, 'No, we've never met. Oof ushera do manto.'
Catareen bowed her head. Was it a gesture of acknowledgment or shame? Othea stepped up to Catareen and put her right hand on Catareen's forehead. Catareen returned the gesture.
Othea said, 'This is a great warrior. I've known of her for many years.'
Catareen answered, 'I do my work.' Luke said, 'What kind of warrior?'
The Nadian ignored him. She said to Catareen, 'Oona napp e cria dossa?'
'What?' Luke said.
Othea said, 'I asked her how far along she is.' Catareen answered, 'Six week. Or seven.' 'Are you pregnant?' Luke asked.
'No.'
'They don't know?' Othea said.
'Know what?' Luke asked.
Catareen went blank and quiet then, which was of course not surprising.
Othea said, 'Well. You all look as if you could use a meal and some rest. Emory, please take care of our guests. I really can't be spared here.'
'Of course,' Emory said.
Othea looked another moment at Catareen. She said, 'It is an honor.'
'Honor is mine,' Catareen answered.
Emory and the children led Simon, Luke, and Catareen out of the barn and across the dirt yard to the farmhouse. The whole place appeared to be a midcentury reconstruction, all lacy porch rails and acute Grant Wood gables. The barn might have been true period, or it might have been an especially good faux. The house was cheap, its shutters and ornament simplified and slightly too large. It looked like a miniature house that had somehow been rendered life-size.
Arrayed behind the house was a dome village, clusters of white in-flatables and Insta-Dwells of various ages, none of them new or clean. At the far end a neglected garden drooped and crisped in the sun. It might have been the summer encampment of a particularly dissolute and discouraged band of Inuits.
As they went, Emory put his hand familiarly on Simon's elbow.
Emory said, 'I have so much to ask you.'
Simon had hoped for answers, not questions. 'I have a thing or two to ask you myself,' he said.
Luke was walking with Catareen just ahead of Simon and Emory. 'So what's this great-warrior business about?' he said.
Catareen did not respond.
Emory took them into the farmhouse. He said, 'There are beds upstairs. Perhaps we should take the boy up there and let him sleep a little.'
'Absolutely not,' Luke said. 'Luke-'
'I'm hungry. I'm starving. We all are. Have you got anything to eat?'
'Of course,' Emory said. He led them through the foyer into a kitchen. They passed what had been the living room and was now an office with two desks, one steel and one plastimorph. Pushed to one side were two ratty armchairs and a glass-fronted cabinet that held a collection of brightly colored odds and ends. Simon recognized them: a Chia Pet shaped like a lamb, PEZ dispensers, a pink plastic squeeze bottle of Mr. Bubble, a rubber statuette of Bull winkle the Moose in a striped bathing suit from the 1800s.
The kitchen was like a kitchen from fifty years ago. It had an atomic stove and a refrigeration module and a sink with a faucet and handles. It might have been a display in a historical museum.
'Sit, please,' Emory said, indicating a battered wooden table surrounded by mismatched chairs. The table was covered with a cloth that depicted dancing blue teapots.
Simon, Catareen, and Luke sat at the table. Emory set down three glasses and a pitcher of what appeared to be tea. He took eggs and bacon from the refrigerator.
He said, 'Today of course is the twentieth. We're set to leave tomorrow.'
As he spoke, he cracked eggs into a bowl. He put slices of bacon on a grill.
Luke asked, 'And this new planet is?'
'We call it Paumanok. It will take thirty-eight years for us to get there. Some of us will no longer be alive when the ship lands.'
'Hence the children.'
'Yes. And they're our children. We would naturally take them along.'
Emory poured the eggs into a pan. He said, 'I got the ship from the Jehovahs. They sold the whole fleet after things fell apart with HBO.'
'And what exactly do you know about the planet in question?' Simon asked.
'It's the fourth planet from its sun. It's about half the size of Earth. It is probably temperate and almost certainly has a breathable atmosphere. We can't know whether or not there's life there.'
'And the worst-case scenario is?'
'Well. It could be entirely barren. It could be too hot or too cold to sustain life. There is of course a very
