Her eyes gleamed. And she asked something else.

“She wants to know what it was like.”

“Tell her about the dinosaur,” said Beth.

Ken laughed. “Why don’t you tell her?”

Beth took the challenge. She pointed at Arin’s notebook. Could she use it?

Kwylla signaled sure.

She turned a page and tried to draw a picture of the brontosaurus. But Beth, despite an early ambition to draw comic strips, had no artistic skills. In the end, Kwylla made it clear she had no idea what the thing was. Beth tried growling, but of course that didn’t work.

Eventually, Arin came back in, glanced at the clock, and wrote in his notebook again.

“I guess it’s back,” said Beth.

•  •  •

Hutch hated going to bed without anything to read. She turned out the bedside lamp, sank back into the pillow, and stared at the ceiling. She wondered if she would ever get to finish Pagden’s book, or any of the others she was partway through. It was possible she’d have to learn to read the local language to ever start another book again. That was severely depressing.

She didn’t even know what sort of books occupied the shelf downstairs. She’d opened a couple and eliminated the possibility they were collections of plays. Beyond that, though, they could be anything. History, novels, philosophy. Considering the cottage was on the same property as the temple, there were probably some religious texts. Whatever they were, she’d have enjoyed being able to look through one. To read it. Books were one more thing she’d assumed would always be there.

After a while, she got up, went to the window, and looked out at the night sky.

•  •  •

Derek stayed on the porch again until the stars faded in the early light of dawn. He was asleep in the chair when Hutch found him. She tried to go back inside without waking him, but she heard her name whispered softly. “He’s still coming through,” he said. “God knows what he must be thinking.”

“You ought to go to get some sleep.”

“I’m all right. Anybody else up?”

“Not that I know of.” She sat down with him. “How long do you think he’ll stay? Wally?”

“I don’t know. He has to be thinking we’re dead.”

They sat for a while, continuing their one-note conversation. Then Derek just closed his eyes. “I wish,” he said, “we could get a decent breakfast. I’d love some pancakes. Or maybe some bacon and eggs. These guys have gone far out of their way for us, but the food just doesn’t work.”

“At least we’ve got some.”

“Sometimes I’m sorry we didn’t go down with the lander.”

“Come on, Derek. You don’t mean that. You’re the senior guy here. You’re not allowed to give up.”

“I’m not giving up, Priscilla, damn it. I—”

“Yeah?”