“Ellie’s my best customer for books about Mars, fiction or non. Her field of study, when you could still have such a thing. I’d look for books, old journals, save them for her. Sometimes we’d get to talking.”

“That’s why all the Mars books? Oh, jeez! I thought . . .” I pressed both hands to my face. “Well, you can’t imagine what I thought, like, when all the transit papers turned up in them.”

“No, but I’d like to.”

I groaned between my palms. “Don’t make fun, okay? You know what the international base on Mars was called, when there was one?”

“Can’t say I do.”

“Ellie Mae never talked about it?”

“She’s . . . careful, talking about her past. Her work.”

I was sure he was holding back but couldn’t really fault him for discretion. “Arcadia. It was called Arcadia.”

“Arka . . . oh.” He started to laugh. And kept laughing, until he was breathless and wiping moisture from his eyes. “Arcadia Base! That sure qualifies as a final destination!”

I thought it more embarrassing than funny, but better he laugh than be brought down by the reminder of Hannah and Julian’s departure.

He caught his breath, still chuckling. “It was . . . the Mars books . . . just a way to remember where I’d hidden the documents, after people started snooping around for them.”

“Rubio said there’s lots of Arcadias out there. At least one in every state.”

“We never did find Hannah’s on a map. Likely a code name. Hannah . . . on . . . Mars!” Daniel intoned. And started laughing again.

Sentry whoops rang across the Lagoon.

Breakers roused herself from her nap on the cabin roof. “Got a boat returning!”

A relief to see Zephyr chug into the Lagoon with her empty raft in tow and head scout Hawkeye at the wheel. She’d brought her downriver with a single deckhand. Across our makeshift marina, tired workers stood up to holler and cheer.

Maxine and Rousseau were soon out front to get a report. Empire Will trailed behind them, hands thrust deep into the pockets of a yellow slicker, bright over a clean white polo. Didn’t look like he’d been winning many arguments.

Hawk took a kayak in from Zephyr’s mooring, already debriefing as she scaled the entryway ladder, the den leaders leaning eagerly over the rail to hear. The human noise in the Lagoon fell silent as we all listened in. Sound carries well over water.

“. . . rafts are heading back with the tide,” Hawk was saying. “About an hour behind me.”

“If they arrive in time . . .” Rousseau spoke up for all ears, more instruction than observation. “. . . we can reload and start back up when the tide turns.”

Will nosed in more quietly. “Any problems? Anybody see you along the way?”

“If they did, they were quiet about it,” Hawk replied. “It was smooth sailing all the way.”