Both vehicles moved with all due deliberation across the sand, advancing like a pair of tortoises. Korsek stayed with them and signaled whenever he felt one was getting too far ahead of the other, or too far to one side. When they were slightly more than three-quarters of the way to the trees, Korsek raised his hands to stop. They complied. The drivers got out and removed the lines from the trucks.

They turned the vehicles around and proceeded back to the edge of the surf, where they cut the lines and reattached the leftover sections to the bumpers. When they were done, the trucks moved forward again. They repeated the process two more times, and the trucks had again gotten close to the forest that rimmed the beach before the lander appeared in the water. Hutch had to smother an instinct to cheer. “I guess,” she said, “Arin’s a genius.”

•  •  •

They were sitting in the sand, watching as the lander was drawn through the surf and onto the beach. “We’re in business, guys,” said Derek. “I still can’t believe this is happening. I don’t like to say this, but I thought we were stuck here.”

Hutch pulled her knees up and wrapped her arms around them. “Derek,” she said, “what are we going to tell them?”

“I don’t have a good answer to that.”

“I don’t think we should tell them anything,” said Beth. “It’s sixty years away. Nobody’s going to be able to do anything about it. Why saddle them with that kind of bad news?”

“I think she’s right,” said Ken. “Let’s just let it go.”

Beth looked around at the Volarians, who were standing at the edge of the trees making happy sounds. “I just can’t see we have much choice.”

Derek took a few steps toward the surf but stopped and looked back at her. “We’ll talk about it later. Let’s get our act together and see if we’ve got a working vehicle.”

Hutch was slow to get up.

Derek frowned. “Hutch? You okay?”

There was the nickname again. Something in his attitude toward her had changed.

Derek Blanchard’s Notebook

Ken has been absolutely brilliant in his ability to communicate with Kwylla and Arin. Without them, I doubt we’d have survived. And I should mention that Priscilla has helped too. And Wally.

—Date unknown, 2256

28.

Awake, my heart, and sing!

—Paul Gerhardt, Morgenlied, 1648

Hutch activated the control panel and lights came on. Her Washington Hawks baseball cap had slid off her seat onto the floor. She picked it up and put it on and felt a joyous charge surge through her body. It was wet, but who cared? “Go, Hawks,” she said, and sat down. “Tasha, you there?”

“Good afternoon, Captain. It’s good to see you.”

“It’s a beautiful day, Tasha.” She’d been holding her breath. “You too, kid. Can you connect us with Barry?”