Lights were on at the rear of the temple. A few others, from nearby cabins, were visible through the trees. A pleasant breeze was blowing in off the ocean, and the soft rumble of the incoming tide encouraged her to settle into one of the chairs and lean her head back. Just enjoy the night. Though she’d feel much better if they could contact Wally.

The door opened and Beth came out. “Any sign of him?” she asked.

“Not yet.”

She sat down beside Hutch. They could hear voices inside, including Arin’s. Then she saw Kwylla emerge from the temple’s side door and come their way.

“Don’t know what we’d have done without her and Arin,” said Beth.

“I know. We owe them.”

“I hate to think what they’re facing. Or their kids. I wonder if they have any kids. Or if they’re even a couple. Place like this, it’s hard to be sure of anything.”

“There are pictures of them with a couple of children,” said Hutch.

Beth nodded and took a deep breath. “I suspect she’d like to see us go away.”

“Who? Kwylla? What makes you say that?”

“It’s how I’d react if unexpected guests arrived.” She hesitated, and then continued: “Especially if I couldn’t even talk to them.”

Kwylla arrived at the porch steps, looked up, smiled, waved, and said something. Beth and Hutch both replied, and they all turned their inability to talk to one another into a joke. She climbed the steps onto the porch and reached for the door.

Hutch, looking for something to say, pointed toward the temple. “Nice piece of architecture.”

Kwylla’s smile widened. She understood perfectly that it didn’t matter whether she could understand literally what Hutch had said. “Koaka som,” she said. She reached out and squeezed Hutch’s shoulder, then nodded and went inside.

Beth and Hutch sat for a time talking about how lucky they’d been, how annoyed they were over the maintenance boondoggle, how the crash landing would become a major moment in Ken’s book. At least, it would if they were lucky. The wind began to gust, tree branches swung back and forth, and then after a time, it grew quiet. Something small and furry charged past the porch and went up a tree. Seconds later Beth jumped out of her chair. “Look!” She was staring out over the trees. One of the stars was moving. The Eiferman was back.

22.

Language—human language—after all, is but little better than the croak and cackle of fowls, and other utterances of brute nature—sometimes not so adequate.

—Nathaniel Hawthorne, The American Notebooks, July 14, 1850

They all came outside to watch, and they stood shaking hands and raising fists as Wally slowly crossed the sky. Arin seized Derek, pointed at the ship and then at his visitors. The question he was asking was clear: Is that how you arrived? He looked stunned.