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Back The Long Sunset Save as PDF
Chapters (51)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. Acknowledgments
  4. Prologue
  5. 1.
  6. 2.
  7. 3.
  8. 4.
  9. 5.
  10. 6.
  11. 7.
  12. 8.
  13. 9.
  14. 10.
  15. 11.
  16. 12.
  17. 13.
  18. 14.
  19. 15.
  20. 16.
  21. 17.
  22. 18.
  23. 19.
  24. 20.
  25. 21.
  26. 22.
  27. 23.
  28. 24.
  29. 25.
  30. 26.
  31. 27.
  32. 28.
  33. 29.
  34. 30.
  35. 31.
  36. 32.
  37. 33.
  38. 34.
  39. 35.
  40. 36.
  41. 37.
  42. 38.
  43. 39.
  44. 40.
  45. 41.
  46. 42.
  47. 43.
  48. 44.
  49. Epilogue
  50. About the Author
  51. Copyright

“Hold on a second.” She was checking her notebook. “Okay. Let’s change the scenery in the passenger cabin. Use 462. But don’t start it until I give you the word.”

“Will do.”

She returned to the front porch, where they were still talking about how long the flight was and how fortunate they were to have the virtual views provided by the ship’s technology.

“If no one objects,” she said, “let’s leave Athens for now. We’ve got something else you might enjoy.”

“A volcanic eruption?” asked Ken.

“That’s good,” Hutch said. “We should try that sometime. But I was thinking that I probably shouldn’t have turned this into just a sightseeing tour for Kwylla and Arin.” She raised her voice: “Barry?”

The sunset and the hillside and the Acropolis blinked off, and a new scene appeared. A beach. With Volarians swimming and lying about under umbrellas with the ocean rolling in, while kids splashed through the surf.

Hutch’s heart picked up a few beats when she saw Kwylla and Arin both smile. Minutes later, Barry switched over: The front porch had apparently been moved to the front of their cottage, near the temple, and they were able to relax outside their home, listening to birds singing and watching small furry creatures running up and down trees.

Beth Squires’s Notes

Ken recorded everything. When the book comes out, it’ll serve as a record of an accomplishment we’ll be proud of forever. Assuming we can actually make the fleet happen.

—Thursday, October 2, 2256

40.

A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds, adored by little statesmen and philosophers and divines. With consistency, a great soul has simply nothing to do.

—Ralph Waldo Emerson, “Self-Reliance,” 1841

They entered the solar system well outside Pluto’s orbit, made a second jump, and surfaced close enough to Earth to pick up the vast array of lights on its night side. On a long flight, passengers usually spent the last days talking about how good it will be to get home again. But the optimism on the Eiferman had faded as they got closer and nobody was looking forward to talking with Zhang Chao. Kwylla had just finished listening to Barry read Allen Preston’s The Next Thousand Years, which predicted a dark future for humans, which had only served to fuel a growing sense that, for their alien passengers, the end was near for everybody. Hutch tried to ease the mood by predicting that Kwylla and Arin would be worldwide media sensations. “They’re going to love you guys,” she said.

In two days, the flight would finally be over. Beth and Ken would be on their way to Rhode Island; Wally would be retained at the space station; she and Derek would be escorting Kwylla and Arin through the media. She hoped.