The movie ended. Except for reading lamps here and there, the plane stayed dark. Somebody a couple of rows behind Jerry snored up a storm. A few people really did manage to sack out at 35,000 feet. Jerry tried to grab a little more shut-eye himself but had no luck.

After a while, the pilot said, “We’re beginning our descent into Los Angeles, ladies and gentlemen. Local weather is clear—temperature at the airport is sixty-six degrees. We expect to be on the ground half an hour from now, just before one fifteen.” He sounded proud of himself for not being quite so late as he might have been.

They circled over the South Bay so they could land into the wind. Some of those lights down there came from Jerry’s apartment building, but he had no idea which ones. Coming back west, the plane flew low over the Harbor Freeway, then much lower over the San Diego—so low, he could almost read the green signs.

A hard bounce, another smaller one, and they were down. Bright lights came on inside the cabin. “Please remain seated with your belts in place and your seats in the fully upright position until we’ve taxied to the terminal,” a stewardess said. California hadn’t tumbled into the sea. Jerry was home.

Out of the plane and into the boarding area he came, hydrophone in one hand, Have Space Suit—Will Travel in the other. Some of the people waiting for their loved ones seemed ready to party, as if they’d gone to Hawaii. Others looked as tired as Jerry felt.

There was Anna! She looked tired, but threw herself into Jerry’s arms so fast, he barely had time to put down the hydrophone. After they kissed, she looked up into his eyes and murmured, “Midnight, my ass.”

“I’m sorry, babe. I didn’t know. I couldn’t. They had mechanical trouble in Honolulu.”

“Yeah, I found that out … after I got here.”

“I’m sorry,” he said again. Yes, he’d need to abase himself for a while.

Maybe ten feet away, Steve was embracing a woman who looked a lot like Jerry’s second-grade teacher. He’d liked Mrs. Simmons, not least because she’d let him stay in the classroom and read instead of going out to the disasters of kickball and sockball at recess.

Steve and his wife came up for air moments after Jerry and Anna did. Steve nodded to him. “Safe trip home.”

“You, too,” Jerry said. To Anna, he added, “This is Steve Dole. We worked together on the Glomar Explorer.” To Steve again: “My fiancée, Anna McGowan.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Steve said. They shook hands. He went on, “This is my wife, Beth. Beth, Jerry Stieglitz.” He remembered Jerry’s real last name, which was good. Jerry shook with her. Even her smile was like Mrs. Simmons’s.

“Baggage claim,” Anna said, in tones that brooked no argument.