“Don’t be—well, do. But our job is to design the parameters and plot the overall timeline. Even gentens lack imagination at that level, so it’s still down to good old human creative brainpower. Once we’ve got that framework in place, the gentens will churn out the details, like names and places and micro-politics, scandal and gossip and celebrities. Crap like that.”

He raised his wineglass to her. “So basically, you’ve become a goddess, creating a whole world.”

She lifted her own glass and touched it to his. “Yep. So behave, or I’ll start smiting you with thunderbolts.”

“I believe you.” Without any thought, he leaned over the table and kissed her. “Come with us on the Morgan. Please, Yirella. I can’t bear the idea of doing this without you. No, forget doing this. I just don’t want to be without you.”

The expression she responded with frightened him. He’d seen it once before: that desperation and loneliness, the night before poor Uma and Doony.

Her arm stretched across the table toward him. He saw the fingers trembling and instinctively grasped her hand.

“Do you mean that?” she asked. “Really? After everything?”

“I mean it,” he said. “I’ve never been more certain about anything.”

“I’m not sure I deserve you.”

“Wrong way round.”

“I am coming with you, on the Morgan. I had them assign me there a month ago.”

Dellian couldn’t help it; he started laughing. “You are so much smarter than me, aren’t you?”

“No. I just think things through quicker, that’s all.”

“If that’s not a definition of smart, I don’t know what is.”

She came over and sat in his lap, grinning as she twined her arms around his neck. “I want to be honest with you.”

“Same here.”

“Dellian, I’m serious. We can’t guarantee a long-term future; it’s wrong to try and tell ourselves that can happen. You and I aren’t traveler generation humans. We exist to fight a war—a fact that haunts me still, and probably always will. We may win, we may not, or we might die achieving victory. The only inevitable part of this is that the Morgan will fight. And the odds are not good.”

“I know. But whatever time we have, we get to spend it together. That’s all I need.”

Her nose rubbed gently against his. “My Dellian. So noble.”

Dellian pushed forward and kissed her. It was every bit as good as he remembered.

The Assessment Team

THE ASSESSMENT TEAM

FERITON KAYNE, NKYA, JUNE 25, 2204