She found a quieter part of the deck as the ship made its way back to shore. The sun was warm on her skin. She clutched Grace close. Soon, she smelled the tang of seaweed, similar yet different to the algae that had kept them alive up above. As the ship pulled into the port of the Cape, Naomi remembered when she’d last been here. The climate change conference, red graffiti stark against the smooth dome of her Cavendish biome. Evan’s profile as he’d scrubbed the glass with too much force.

Five women had left the Earth in secret, but three and a newborn returned to fanfare. Hart and Hixon joined Naomi, resting their elbows on the railing. Crowds clustered on the public beaches, the far-off music reaching their ears. The private dock was thick with NASA and government personnel, but right at the centre, they caught the blonde bristle of Lebedeva, who raised her arm in greeting. Hart and Hixon waved back enthusiastically, and Naomi inclined her head, her eyes already searching behind her before landing on Evan. A thrum went through her, settling deep in her chest.

Evan’s face was freshly shaven, and he looked both just as she remembered and completely changed by what he’d been through. He smiled nervously, hair a little tousled, hands in the pockets of his jeans. His favourite faded NASA T-shirt, soft from hundreds of washes. A man she’d known since he was eleven, watched grow up in six-month intervals until college. As a boy, he’d been the one she competed with for Valerie’s affection, letting her come between them and keeping Naomi from getting to know the truth of him. She didn’t know what would happen between them now.

She was ready to find out.

Naomi kept her feet strong on the deck, her body swaying with the motion of the ship. She cradled Grace against her breastbone. She squared her shoulders, pulling down her filter mask long enough to give her best version of Cole’s megawatt smile he’d always used for the cameras.

Earth was still too hot and too fragile, and soon she’d see the evidence of what people had just been through. How close they’d all come to disappearing. But she was struck by how alive it all felt. Greens, blues and browns. The whispers of white-topped waves. The cries of gulls. The pops of colours on people’s clothes as they held up their palms, their shouts and cries just reaching the deck.

As the waves carried them to shore, Naomi gave a last look up at the sky.

30 Years After

My mother says she won’t read this book.