“The return makes one love the farewell.”

–Alfred de Musset

Two days later, the Freemans were assembled in the main briefing room of the Gyfjon, along with Lauryna, Izzy, Darren, and Lysis; the communique they’d received from Eyrn had been a bit terse, but she’d indicated that there was somebody who needed to meet with them, and that no, Niall could not beg out of it.

Sorcha looked out at Earth, and smiled as she picked out Japan, coming around into daylight; Yoshi had brought Alesia there to visit his home, and she’d gone, because – well, why wouldn’t she go? Sorcha had received messages rather constantly from her friend as she tried to explain Tokyo – a city of humans, larger by population than anything on Archavia. And not even the largest on Earth. She’d almost been giddy. Not to mention that she was already gushing about the books of plays she’d picked up for Nonah – Sophocles, William Shakespeare, Molière – she’d rattled off half a dozen names, including books her mom had written and their Earth analogues.

Sorcha envied Lessy, not because she had promised that she wouldn’t go off and tour Earth – she owed her father that – but because when she did come back, she’d be going into a holosuite. Lessy could experience their homeworld at the proper scale. Sorcha never truly could.

The corners of her lips twitched; she supposed this was only fair. Lessy deserved to see a world built for her, and only her. She had seen plenty of a world built for others.

“Here you are, ma’am,” Crewmate Zinter said, bearing a middle-aged woman into the room. “Captain, I have Mrs. Jones-Whelan.”

Zinter set the woman onto the table, and she straightened her suitcoat. “Thank you, Mr. Zinter,” she said, with an accent that seemed at once to echo Ireland, England, and Missouri. “Captain Gwenn, thank you for your hospitality.”

“Of course,” Lauryna said, though still no more certain of why the human was here. “We’re happy to oblige Ambassador Bass.”

Jones-Whelan smiled at that, and turned. “All right then…you must be Izzy,” she said. “And you’re Darren. That must make you Niall Freeman,” she said, with a smile. “It’s an honor, Doctor. And…well, it’s an honor to meet all of you. May I?” she said, indicating a chair that was set at the humans’ table.

“Of course,” Niall said.

She sat down, and set a briefcase on the table carefully, as if it might explode. “I suppose you’re wondering who I am,” she said, with a smile.

“We were a bit,” Sorcha said.

“Tuppy,” Naskia said, with a warning growl.

“Understandable,” the woman said. “My name is Erin Jones-Whelan. My mother was Isabelle Jones-Whelan. And her father,” she said, “was a man named Reese Jones.”

“Damn hell….” Darren said, softly. “You’re Reese’s granddaughter?”

“His oldest grandchild, oldest of seven. That’s the reason I’m here and not Sophie, though honestly, she’d be more polished.”

“Reese Jones. A grandpa.”

“A great-great-grandpa,” Erin said with a smile. “I have two grandchildren of my own. He was able to meet one of them before he died. You’ll be happy to know he never forgot you,” she said, looking at Darren and Izzy. “I told Ambassador Bass this as well – he told us all stories about how he nearly got eaten by a giant when we were kids. When we got older…we found out that he wasn’t just making up tall tales.”

Erin opened the briefcase, and removed a small black box, still smooth after 140 years. “This belongs to you, Dr. Freeman,” she said. “My grandfather got the message through. And there’s more.”

She handed him the box and three letters, with a kindly smile. “One of those letters is from my grandfather. The other two,” she said, “are from your mother.”

Niall stared at them in shock, but he did not question it; he knew that handwriting as well as he knew his face; he ran a finger across it, gently, and blinked back the tears that clouded his vision.

“One of these is for you, Sorcha,” he said, setting aside the letter addressed to his descendants. “I can read it to you, or we can find a way to make it more legible for you.”

“You can read it,” Sorcha said, not much louder than a whisper, leaning in to see the letters her grandmother had written.

“First,” he said, “I should read the letter from Private Jones,” he said, quietly. Carefully, he broke the seal on the letter, and began to read.

Dr. Freeman,

It seems like just yesterday I was transferred from Ft. Hood to the Groom Lake facility. Imagine my shock and awe (and more than a little bit of terror) when I indeed discovered that there were in fact Aliens living at Area 51. They would have called me crazy.

I like to imagine you, Sergeant Avery and Corporal Ibanez lived long and happy fulfilling lives. If the rest of the Titans are anywhere near as accommodating and kindly as Eyrn and Captain Bass, I’ve no doubt you were all well cared for.

The inquisition lasted three months. I was questioned, I was interrogated, and in the end I was honorably discharged. I made my way to Belfast and met up with your mother as agreed. She was hesitant of course, even though I tried to carry myself with an air of sanity. How do you even begin to explain to a person that her son was abducted by gigantic space aliens? She gave me a good slap across the head…but the video recording was more than enough to win her over.

Naskia is a beautiful woman, I fear I have left this universe at great misfortune for not having met her in person. Your mother was quite impressed.

I didn’t tell her about their size Niall, I felt it best. If this letter finds its way to you, please know that she lived her days well. Strong as an ox and healthy as a young spring buck right into her 90’s. She passed away in the spring of her 94th year, peacefully surrounded by those she loved.

I never intended to stay. It began with one dinner, she asked me to stay for dinner the night I broke the news for her. The rest is history. I found a small place outside Belfast and remained as close as family. She never had any intention of allowing me to return to America.

We treated her like our own, she even met her grandchildren. Well blood isn’t everything right? She had the pleasure of meeting our first child, and spoiled her rotten.

We may have warmed the place in her heart left when you were taken, but you were never forgotten, and never replaced.

My only regret is never having met you. As strange as this may sound, you have done more for my family than I ever could have done for yours.

I’ve not much more to say. I’ve no certainty this will ever even reach you. But in closing I will leave you with strong words left to me by a dear friend…where ever she may find herself…where ever life has taken her…may she be well.

So to you Dr. Freeman, or to your offspring if indeed this reaches them. To Eyrn, the Sarge, and grumpy ol’ Ibanez

‘May you be wise, and answer to your call

May you still rise, if ever you should fall.

The road of life is long, I whisper a prayer, may your path be clear…live on!’

Your brother, though not by blood

Reese Francis Jones

Niall smiled as he tucked it away, and unable to pause any further, turned to the letters his mother had written. He felt very small as he opened the one to him, and he paused; instead, he set it aside, and read the letter to Sorcha.

To my beloved family,

I hope against hope that you are reading this with your father –and my son – Niall Freeman. I know that may not be the case. I have no way of knowing when or if this letter will reach you. It may be in a year or two. It may be a thousand years from now. I can only hope that should it find you, it will find you well.

My son sent a message to me from your world, not long after he disappeared from Earth. Though he told me he would not be able to return to me, he introduced me to his Naskia, a lovely girl who appeared to be like us. I do not know whether they were able to have children of their own, or whether they chose to adopt a child from your world, and it does not matter to me; I believe, though, that they were parents. I cannot tell you why – call it a grandmother’s intuition.

Though I could not tell him, I want you to know that Niall was loved, and though I did not meet her, Naskia was loved, too. I understood the sacrifice my son made, and I was glad for him. I want you to know that I missed him dearly, and wished dearly I could have met his wife, and wished dearly that I could have met you. I hope that my son has passed on the important things I tried to give him. That he has tried to show you love and compassion and as much patience as is humanly possible. If he has, then you have seen the best of me; it is all I can give you from across space, but I give it fully.

I want you to know that even though I’ll never cradle you as a baby, or dry your tears as a child, or see you grow up and live your life, or even meet you, that I love you with all my heart, and I know you’ll make me proud.

Love,

Your Grandmother,
Sorcha Freeman

Niall wiped away his tears as he looked at the photograph she had included, one of she and Niall when he was but a child. He fumbled with the paper before setting it down on the table, and turning to the one addressed to him. He read it aloud – but it took him more than a few words before sound came out.

My darling boy,

I was so happy when Reese arrived and delivered your message. They told me you were dead but I knew you weren’t. I could feel it in my bones. Though you told me you were fine, it makes it no less difficult to write this letter. I miss you, every minute of every day.

I hope you’re well and happy, I’m sure you’ve found some project or another to throw yourself into. You always did love to do that. Disappear off into your own little world and come out days later with a smile on your face after some discovery you’d made. Like the time you took the potatoes meant for Sunday dinner and made them power lightbulbs. I still don’t know how you did that. And you were four years old.

I want you to know that Reese has been a dear friend. He has treated me like I were his own mother and has shared his life and his family with me. I know you went away for long periods and always felt guilty leaving me at home. So I don’t want you feeling guilty now. I’m not alone and I am content.

The next part I’d like to say to Naskia. You are so beautiful and you look so happy. You are exactly the type of woman I’d hoped my son would end up with. He’s always been so serious, no time for fun in his life, all work, work, work. Niall never did talk to me about girls or introduce me to any. Though I knew he did like women I don’t think he has ever loved one until now. You must be something. Make sure he makes an honest woman out of you! I can see him trying to wriggle out with some excuse. Just look after him for me? I know he can be a handful but he really is a sweet boy. And if it’s not too much trouble I’d really like a grandchild. Or Ten. I know my son loves you very much and you make him happy and for that, I love you too.

I do mean it son, you better marry her, and give me lots of grandchildren. Don’t be too hard on them. Or too soft. Remember, they have your blood and if they’re anything like you they’ll need as firm hand to keep them on the right path and gentle push every once in a while to keep them going.

I hope beyond hope that we’ll be together again one day. But I’m just happy knowing that you’re happy. Always, always remember that no matter what, your mother loves you and you are the greatest joy in my life. You are the best thing that ever happened to me.

Always,

Mum

(And remember you’re not just representing the Human race up there but Northern Ireland and your mother, so keep that tongue of yours in check. And lay off the whiskey. I know you, I’m sure you’ll find some way to get a hold of some.)

Niall hugged the letters to his chest, and didn’t care that he was openly weeping. He had tried to say goodbye to his mother as best he could; he was grateful that she had been wise enough to return the favor.

It was a good long while before he was conscious of anything but grief. He felt a soft finger on his back, hardly moving, just there, resting. He recovered, a bit, and turned, and followed the finger to the hand, and up the arm of his wife. He moved forward, just a bit, and kissed the digit. “I’m sorry you never met her, Nas. I think you two would’ve liked each other very much.

“And I’m sorry you never knew her, Sorcha. You…she would have loved you. A feisty Irish granddaughter? There’s nothing I could ever have done in all my life that would have made her happier than to introduce her to you.”

He was quiet a good long while. He didn’t regret the path his life had taken, for that would be to regret his wife and daughter, and he never could. He did, however, regret that the path his life had taken had not afforded him the chance to double back once in a while.

After a minute, when he felt he could speak again without sobbing, Niall said, “Mrs. Jones-Whelan, my family is forever in your debt. I am so grateful your grandfather was there for my mother, that she wasn’t alone. How can I possibly repay you?”

Erin Jones-Whelan smiled, and appeared almost on the verge of laughter. “Dr. Freeman…you have repaid my family many times over. Your mother left everything she had to my grandfather, on the condition that my family promise to guard and deliver those letters should we ever get the chance.”

“Well, that’s hardly enough,” Niall said. “My mother worked hard, but we weren’t wealthy.”

Jones-Whelan did laugh at that. “Dr. Freeman, your mother inherited from you. Do you remember the contract you had with ITER? In the event any of your patents proved lucrative?”

“Well…a bit. I mean, I think I got a small percentage of revenue, something like one-one hundredth of one percent of sales should certain things happen – it was fairly standard. I can’t imagine it resulted in much.”

Jones-Whelan laughed out loud. “Can’t imagine…Dr. Freeman, you held the patent on six key systems for Freeman-Akahito reactors. Those reactors provide 73 percent of Earth’s energy. Your small percentage, after investments and so forth, is today worth…I looked it up, because the exchange is tricky…well, in 2013 pounds, roughly £22 billion.”

Niall’s jaw dropped. “Twenty-two…billion…pounds?”

“Correct, or 8.6 billion unis. We haven’t been wasting it, I assure you. Well over two-thirds is held as a charitable trust to help disadvantaged students earn an education in the sciences, to advance the general welfare, and – at my grandfather’s insistence – to study space travel. The rest is in various investments; my grandfather was adamant that our family use this money to make the world a better place, and we’ve done our best at that. And now…now, our time as its guardians is done,” she said, bringing out a final stack of papers, full of dense legalese.

“Dr. Freeman, the family is unanimous in this; we have been honored to be custodians of this wealth, but it’s not ours. It belongs to you and your family. And so I have had papers drawn up to transfer your money back to you, effective immediately. All I need is your signature.”

Niall found his jaw had dropped again. “I…you’re just going to give up £22 billion?”

“Well, like I said, most of it’s in trust. And we’ve started a couple of companies through loans from the trust, we won’t be living in penury.”

Niall looked at the woman, and smiled. “I have a friend, a very good friend,” he said softly. “She’s independently wealthy – her family had invested wisely, and she’s invested even more wisely. She could just live in luxury – and no doubt, she does, a bit – but for the most part she’s taken that money, and she’s used it to make the Empire a better place.” He looked at his daughter, and smiled at her; this was a ludicrous amount of money. He hoped she’d forgive him.

“Mrs. Jones-Whelan, you’re using this money to make Earth a better place. There’s nothing I could do with it that would be a better use of it. Keep the money. Just promise you won’t stop.”

Erin looked down, and sighed. “I will confess, doctor…I’m not sorry to keep it. But should you ever change your mind, we will have this ready for you.”

“I won’t,” Niall said. “Nor will any of my heirs. Right, Sorcha?”

Sorcha wasn’t even sure how much billions of pounds were worth, and for a second, she considered objecting…but it wasn’t hers. It was her father’s. “Right, dad,” she said.

“Now, I didn’t know your grandfather, but I know Darren and Izzy did. Why didn’t they get a letter?”

“He left these,” she said, “though he assumed they’d go to your descendants.”

Erin handed Darren and Izzy two identical old photographs of the three of them, taken a long time ago while on duty at Groom Lake. Well…actually, four of them – Eyrn’s foot was behind them, and Darren was clearly laying into her about something.

How he’d managed to acquire those photos was a story that would make Pryvani Tarsuss proud, a story that was, alas, lost to time. But by the reaction of Darren and Izzy, both looking at them with watery eyes, there was no doubt left that the effort had been worth it.

“We were all damn young,” Darren said with a chuckle, showing it to his wife, as Lauryna squinted down at Izzy’s. “So if he told you about Ambassador Twat, he had to tell you about Izzy and me. We were far more exciting,” he said with a grin.

“He told many stories. One of his favorites was about you politely stabbing Ambassador Bass, rather than admit defeat,” Jones-Whelan said evenly. “Of course, he did exaggerate.”

“No kidding,” Izzy said. “Nothing polite about it!”

As Izzy launched into the story, Jones-Whelan leaned back with a smile; her grandfather had been a kind and amazing man. She only wished he’d been here for this reunion.

* * *

“I cannot believe I forgot to invent gyros.”

“I can’t believe you ever ate gyros.”

“Rixie, if it wouldn’t be unfair to you I’d stop in right now, if only because I can’t believe The Parthenon is still open. How is it still open? It was old back when I lived here.”

It was two days after Niall had received his mother’s message. Alex was surprised just how familiar State Street remained, even 142 years after he last saw it. The shops were different, but still somehow, even here in the future, it seemed a perfect fit for the college it terminated at, a mix of student data stores and solar bike shops and second-hand clothing and head shops. Actually, Alex was a bit amused to see that if anything, the now-legal shops were less open about their wares.

“I am going to have to invent those things,” Alex said, as they turned off and headed toward a rather upscale bar. “Seriously, we’re like two-thirds of the way there. Heck, we already serve dontak, which is basically doner kebab. I wonder if tafflara would be a good substitute for the marjoram….”

Rixie rolled her eyes. “You realize you could probably import margarine now.”

“Marjoram, and what’s the fun in that?” Alex said, holding the door for his fiancée. He thought it had been for the best that she’d used the holoemitters. Still, there was part of him that really wanted to take her down to Library Mall and show her off at her full height.

Rixie blinked; the holobox had done a perfect job adjusting to the sudden dark of the bar. “So why are we here again?”

“Beats me. All I know is that Darren got a message asking if I’d come meet someone here, and passed it along. Figure it’s probably like my great-grand-nephews or something.”

“Wait,” Rixie said, pausing as Alex walked ahead. “I’m meeting your family?”

“Heck, I don’t know, Rix,” Alex said, turning back toward her with a smile. “If you are, I am too, and they’ll be much more impressed with you. Promise.”

Rixie put on an uneasy smile, and followed Alex up to the bar.

“’Scuse me,” he said to the bartender, a petite young woman with a completely shaved head and ears that had been modified to have points. “I’m Alex Carey, I’m supposed to meet someone here?”

“Oh, space guy, right?” the woman said. “Yeah, you’re in a private room, room two – right on time. She with you?”

“Yup,” Alex said, beaming back at Rixie. “For some reason.”

“You’re really a giant, aren’t you? Saw you on the vid. That why your avatar’s tall?”

“Um…well, yes, I’m a Titan,” Rixie said.

“And she’s just the same height she always is,” Alex said. “At least proportionately. Can’t catch a break. People still tipping in 2155?”

“Tipping? Oh, right, gratuities. No, not anymore,” the girl said.

“That makes life easier,” said Alex, who nevertheless dropped an Avalonian silver piece on the counter. “Thanks!” Alex said, aiming for the room she’d pointed out.

Alex paused outside it; he had to admit he was quite as nervous as Rixie. He wondered just which set of descendants was on the other side of the door. Sighing, he pushed a button, and it slid open.

Alex looked into the room, and was both relieved and surprised to see but one person sitting at a table. She was old – very old. So old that she actually appeared to be old. Alex would have pegged her age at 80, but then, he was proof that looks could be deceiving.

“Did you bring my Coke?” the woman asked, looking up at him with a wry smile.

Alex took a step in, and looked at her. Looked at her hard. Rewound her age back to what she must have looked like years ago….

“Em?”

“Who else would it be? And did you bring my Coke?”

“Your…your Coke?”

“Yeah. You go out one night, ask mom and dad if they need anything, I chime in, ‘Hey, get me a Coke,’ you say you’re gonna, and then you show up 142 years later and you don’t even have my Coke. Sheesh, Alex.”

Alex sighed. “All right, I’ll go get it,” he said with a grin.

Emily Torgerson laughed, and bounded up from the table, and threw her arms around her big brother, who did the same to her. “Tell ya what, buy me a beer and I’ll forgive it.”

“Are you old enough? You’re just a kid,” Alex said.

Rixie cleared her throat softly.

“So you brought one of the Titans with?” Emily said, breaking from Alex to eye Rixie. “Thought she’d be taller.”

Rixie’s eyebrow shot up at that. “I…uh…you see, it’s…it’s a hologram…..”

“Yeah, even so. You a friend of my brother’s?”

“This is Rixie Tam,” Alex said. “My fiancée. Rixie, this is my little sister Emily.”

“Hi,” Rixie said; she felt none of the confidence she usually did.

“Hi,” Emily said, shaking her hand. “Nice to meet you.” She turned back to her brother. “So you’ve been gone 142 years and you’re just now getting married?”

“Rixie and I have been dating for 142 years, we’re just idiots,” Alex said. “Hell, we have a kid together. Emily, I….”

Alex looked at his little sister. Okay, technically half-sister, but he’d never really thought the half mattered any. She’d been nine when last he’d seen her; they’d always gotten along well, despite the age gap. He’d often wondered, as the years went by, what happened to her.

He’d never expected to find out.

“Don’t get mushy, Alex,” Emily said. “You’re gonna make me all mushy. Let’s get a pitcher and catch up. Then later I’ll introduce you to the wife and kids. Didn’t think it was fair to spring ‘em on you.”

“Wife and kids?” Alex said.

“Yup. You’ll like Julie. We’ll be married 115 years this August.”

“How’d you meet?” Alex said, as a waiter came in with a pitcher of beer; he wasn’t sure anyone had ordered it, but he wasn’t going to argue.

“We met through work. I was a sports reporter back in the 2030s. She was a power forward for the Minnesota Lynx.”

“Well,” Alex said, with a lopsided grin. “Guess Melissa’s kids are suckers for tall girls, huh?”

“Guess so,” Emily said, and poured a beer for Alex and Rixie, and raised hers with a grin aimed at Rixie. “And thank God they put up with us, huh?”

Alex grinned. “Amen, sis. Amen.”

* * *

At about that time, a car was winding its way down the streets of Boulder, Colorado. Darren Xanthopolous had been relieved when Jema Dourit had shown up to take over as the Avalonian ambassador. That didn’t mean Darren and Lysis were rushing home, though; he figured they weren’t coming back for a while, so he’d managed to talk the council into letting him stay for the next few months. He’d already shown Lysis New York, and because she demanded to see some part of Earth that wasn’t a city or a desert, she was in the back of the car, holding his hand, enjoying the sight of the mountains, and taking back everything she’d said doubting Earth’s beauty.

They got out at a small, nondescript house; the US Army officer who had been tasked with getting them here smiled and nodded; Darren grabbed two suitcases, and nodded back. “We may be a bit, son. If you want, we can call you back when we’re ready.”

“No problem, Mr. Secretary. I’ll hang out here, call my wife; happy to do and still be on the clock.”

“Smart man,” Darren said, walking toward the door, and ringing the bell.

“Who is it?” a woman’s voice asked.

“Darren Xanthopolous, ma’am, we spoke the other day?”

“Of course. I’ll be right there.”

Soon enough, the door opened, and a short, older woman with sparkling eyes opened the door. Hello, Mr. Xanthopolous. I still don’t understand what this is all about.”

“Well…it’ll take some explainin’, Mrs. Philpott. Is your father here?”

“Of course, he’s right this way.” The woman led them to a dining room, where a very old man was playing a game on a tablet computer.

“Dad?” Mrs. Philpott said. “This is Mr. and Mrs. Xanthopolous. I told you they were coming?”

“I know they were coming, Jen, haven’t lost my marbles yet,” he grumbled, standing up; the whir of an artificial leg could be heard, though his movement gave no evidence of it. “James Palmer. So why are you aliens bugging me? My daughter said you weren’t very clear.”

Darren shook the man’s hand. “Well, Mr. Palmer…it’s about your uncle.”

Palmer’s eyebrows shot up. “I assume you don’t mean my Aunt Maddie’s husband.”

“No, sir,” Lysis said. “We mean your uncle Luke.”

Palmer ventured a smile. “Sit a spell, would you? Jen, get them some coffee,” he said, tenting his fingers. “My Uncle Luke disappeared oh, two years after I was born. Grandpa and Grandma never did really get over it. Frankly, neither did my dad. You gonna tell me he was abducted by aliens or some bullshit like that? Lived among the giants?”

“That’s exactly what happened,” Darren said, handing him a pad.

Palmer scoffed, and looked at the pad. And then he looked more closely. The man in the photo, with his arm around a pretty, tomboyish redhead, was instantly recognizable. He’d seen the face hundreds of times in photos, even if he barely remembered it in person.

“She isn’t a giant.”

“Well, neither am I,” Lysis said, genially. “Her name’s Quendra. Luke’s wife.”

James Palmer leaned back in his chair, stroking his chin. “This is real?” he said, quietly.

“Yes, Mr. Palmer. It is.”

He looked more carefully at the pad. “There are more,” Lysis said, and James began to swipe through them, the pictures of his uncle on Archavia, with his wife and their family.

“He looks happy,” Palmer said, quietly. “I always remember him happy. Used to like to play with him. Glad he had kids. Damn. Wish my grandparents coulda seen it.”

“I do too,” Darren said. “But a friend of his asked me to at least let his family know that he’d led a happy life, that he’d been safe. I know you only knew him a short while….”

“He’s family,” Palmer said, with a shrug. “Wish I’d gotten a chance to meet him again.”

“He died about six weeks ago,” Darren said.

Palmer laughed bitterly. “Hell, that figures.”

“But his wife’s still around. If you want to talk to her….”

“Are you kidding?” James said, perking up. “Of course I want to talk to her! She’s my Aunt…Kendra, right?”

“Quendra. And yeah, she is,” Darren said, opening a suitcase. He tapped a few buttons, and shifted into a language James didn’t recognize.

“Hey, Hair On Fire. Quendra there?” he said, in Archavian, chuckling at the response. “Hey, don’t blame me, blame your sister Tall No Really for that one….yup, and give Obi my love next you see her.”

He paused a moment, then said, “Princess Leia, you’re lovely as always. How are you doing? I know, damn it. You need anything, you let me know, okay – or bug Aisell, you can blame me. Listen, Leia…there’s someone I’d like you to meet.” Darren punched the screen, opening the translator program. “Quendra the Great, I’d like to introduce you to your nephew, James Palmer.”

Darren handed James the pad, and rose, grabbing the coffee. He nodded to Jen; “We’ll give your dad some privacy,” he said, as he and his wife left for the kitchen.

For James and Quendra, of course, it was a bit awkward; it took them a while before the conversation started flowing. For James, it was in no small part because he was stunned; for Quendra, it was because her nephew looked so very much like her late husband.

Still, they began to open up slowly, and the door opened wide when Quendra said, “Luke never did forget Earth, you know. Last thing he said was that he wanted to take me to Colorado for some peach cobbler.”

“Peach cobbler?” James said, with a grin. “You guys have peaches on…Archavia?”

“We have peach trees here we got from Avalon, but Luke always said they weren’t the same.”

“Well, we’ll have to fix that. And we’ll have to get you my grandma’s cobbler recipe. Can’t do better. Simple, no-miss every time.”

Quendra smiled. “’And always better the next day.’”

James laughed. “Well! You are definitely a Palmer, Aunt Quendra. You or your kids ever make it to Earth, you damn well better make it here.”

“Luke would never forgive me if I missed Colorado,” she said.

James smiled, and wiped a tear away. “Aunt Quendra…he was happy, yeah?”

“He was.”

“Thanks,” James said. “That’s down to you, and…my grandparents would’ve been glad to know he found someone who loved him, wherever he was. I am too.”

Quendra fought back tears; she’d cried enough. “James, we need to keep in touch,” she said.

“I’ll talk to that Xanatos guy,” James said. “Damn right we have to keep in touch. We’re family.”

* * *

The officer led the woman through the rows of gravestones to a weather-beaten marker at the end of a row. “Here it is,” he said, quietly.

“Thank you, colonel. You didn’t have to do this.”

“Of course I did, Ambassador,” he said.

“No, really. I just…you could’ve sent someone. Really, I don’t mean to trouble you.”

“Trouble? Not at all,” Ted Martínez said with a smile. “It’s not like San Antonio’s a long way from Houston, and if I was in Houston they’d just be debriefing me, and…well, Sgt. Fitzgerald fought at Gettysburg. I’d be a helluva soldier if I didn’t bring his daughter to visit him. I’ll give you a few minutes – I’ll be over on the path there. Not that you couldn’t just drop your holoemitter and disappear, but you probably want me to get it back to you.”

“Probably for the best,” Eyrn agreed.

Ted started away, then paused, and turned back to face the gravestone. Ted wasn’t much on ceremony, and he had a test pilot’s view on following the rules as written. But he came to a precise, perfect attention, and executed and held a precise, perfect salute, of a kind he’d managed to avoid since the academy. He dropped it, and turned, and walked away, leaving Eyrn alone with her parents.

“Hi,” she said, softly. “I never got a chance to do this, not in person. I mean, I guess I’m not, technically – I’m in Nevada, but….”

She sighed. She hadn’t been at a loss for words since she first got to Rutger, but she found she didn’t know what to say, confronted with the gravestone for Sgt. Zebulon Alexander Fitzgerald. Her mother was interred with him, though the grave was not marked with her name; at least, Eyrn had been told she would be. Well, even if she wasn’t, Marcy had loved Zeb ferociously. Her spirit was with him, here, if it was anywhere in existence.

And no matter where she was really…Eyrn’s spirit was here, too.

“Turns out I wasn’t human,” she said, with half a smile. “I was an alien. Don’t know if it would have mattered if you knew that. Probably not. Me being an alien…in retrospect, that’s about the least weird thing about me. Anyhow, they came back for me, finally. I moved up with them, into a world of my size. I married an explorer, Daddy. I think you would have liked Aerti. Momma, I think I understand what you meant when you said Daddy was getting that faraway look in his eyes…Aerti gets that, sometimes, he wants to see as much of the universe as he can before he dies. And I have some of that in me. I’ve seen a world where the people live underwater, a world where people live in trees, a world run by dinosaurs as smart as anyone you’d ever care to meet. Seen a world of insects bigger than buildings. Daddy, I think you would have loved it.

“And you both…you both would have loved your grandkids. I wish you’d known them. Poly is just like me – and now I know exactly what you meant when you said you were exasperated, Momma, and she’s about my size, not twenty times bigger. I don’t know how you managed it. Cleo is sweet, Marcy is like her father, and Zeb…Zeb reminds me of you, Momma, and I know, he isn’t your genetic grandchild, but I swear, sometimes, he does things that make me think he is. He’s more refined than Aerti and I are put together. Maybe it’s Lilitu’s genes. You’d have liked her, Momma. I know she was strict with Aerti and Nas and Bero and Hurassen, but you were strict with me. And she has culture. She believes in putting your best foot forward. Like you always did.”

Eyrn looked down for a minute. “Aerti and I…we almost died up on Titan Station. I missed you both so much as a kid, but I never understood how much it hurt you to leave before I was grown. To know that you were never gonna see me get married, never gonna meet your grandkids, never gonna see me become the person I was growing up to be. I had just a few minutes of that, and…and it was horrible. You had years to get used to the idea, and you never showed it, even though I know, I know, it had to hurt every day.

“You gave up so much for me. Gave up a normal life to raise me. And I know, Daddy, you always said normal lives were for dull people, but you both could have moved back to Minneapolis, lived on Lake of the Isles with Uncle Archie, enjoyed your wealth, adopted a girl who you could take out in public…you didn’t. You stayed with me. You loved me.

“I’ll never forget you,” Eyrn said, swallowing hard. “I’ve tried to remember what you taught me, every day. Haven’t always lived up to it,” she said with a weak smile, “but I remembered it. I just….”

She took a deep breath to recompose herself. “I just wish I could see you one more time, like this. And hug you, and let you hug me back the way I always knew you wanted to. Momma, Daddy, I will always love you,” she said. She placed two yellow roses at the base of the gravestone, and headed back toward Ted.

* * *

It had been lovely, getting to meet Emily’s wife Julie, and getting to see her home in the suburbs of Minneapolis. Alex even agreed to stay the night, and Rixie just had to have him hang on to her holoemitters.

Alex and Emily took each other’s success in stride; Emily was impressed that he’d become a successful restaurateur, and he was glowing in his review of her old broadcast tapes. It was only when they got on the topic of their wives that any semblance of sibling rivalry resurfaced.

“Look, Julie led the league in rebounding from 2037 until she retired in 2046. She led the league in scoring three times!” Emily said, waving her arms in frustration.

“Not running that down, Em, but Rixie won the Tribute six of the eight years she played, and all five players she beat in her finals – Starchild, Reefsman, the Magician, Space Ace, and The Marionette – either had won or would eventually win titles.”

“Look, I’m not sure….” Rixie said, but Emily cut her off.

“Oh yeah? The Lynx won the title in ’38, ’40, ’41, and ’45. And that’s a team sport, wasn’t all up to her. She was MVP in ’39, ’42, and ’43.”

“I had a nice career, yeah, but….” Julie said, but neither sibling was really listening.

“Rixie shares the record for most Grand Tribute wins, and that’s only because she walked away at the height of her career. She could’ve won four or five more if she’d kept playing.”

“With Felltree and The Marionette coming up? I wouldn’t guarantee it,” Rixie said, hoping her uncharacteristic modesty about her Tol-Bot career would send a signal. She looked over at the tall woman sitting across the table; Julie rolled her eyes back at her. They both chuckled.

Emily continued on. “Hey, Julie’s a three-time Olympic gold medalist – Buenos Aires in ’36, Hyderabad ’40, and Anchorage ’44.”

“Okay,” said Julie, sharply. “If we’re going to talk about my medals, shouldn’t you at least mention how you almost got me kicked off the team in ’36?”

That stopped everyone for a moment. Julie looked over at her wife, and said, “Now, Jules, that was over 100 years ago.”

Julie sighed. “So was my playing career, but that’s fresh in your mind, isn’t it?”

Julie turned back to Rixie. “It was the final week of the development camp, we’d cut down to 20, and I was exhausted. And who shows up at my door two hours after curfew but my fiancée?”

“I thought it would be sweet!”

“We were in camp!” Julie said, exasperatedly, though if you knew her as well as Emily did, you could see her amusement. “We weren’t supposed to have visitors. Hell, you weren’t even supposed to know what hotel we were in!”

“You didn’t turn me away….” Emily said with a grin.

“Yeah, well, you were kind of adorable, and I was a fool. Anyhow, that would have been bad, but then, rather than leave either well before we got going in the morning or well after, my genius of a wife decides to sneak out while I’m in the shower.”

“I thought it was a good time!”

“Yes, well, it wasn’t; she walked right into Coach Whalen coming out of the room. My God. Coach Whalen simply didn’t get mad; she was a Minnesotan, very taciturn. She lit me up but good. I thought sure she was gonna send me home right then.”

“But she didn’t!” Emily said. “I told her I’d just gotten there, that it was my fault, Jules had kicked me out as soon as I came in, and that she was an idiot if she turned down the best young power forward in the country because her fiancée loved her.”

Julie rolled her eyes. “That didn’t really help matters; I was just lucky that Coach Taurasi showed up just then, and reminded Coach Whalen about something that happened before the London games in 2012. Don’t know what it was, but they had a hell of a good laugh about it. Anyhow, it worked out, I got to stay with the team. But not thanks to this one here.”

Rixie laughed uproariously. “Oh, gorram – it’s genetic, is what you’re saying?”

Alex looked over at her. “What? I thought it was sweet of Emily.”

“You would!” Rixie said, laughing harder.

Julie grinned back. “Oh, this should be good. So I take it my wife isn’t the only one to show up when she wasn’t supposed to?”

Rixie smiled. “Nope! And just imagine your fiancée is small enough to hide in your luggage.”

Julie stared for a moment, then guffawed; for a second, she’d forgotten the woman across from her was a Titan. “Oh, God, he hid in your bag?”

“Yeah,” Rixie said.

“Hey, you promised I could come along!”

“I lied,” Rixie said, taking a sip of her drink. “Now, I’d just been recalled to active duty….”

Julie smiled, and leaned back, as Alex now began to complain about something or other, in a tone Julie knew by heart. Rixie rolled her eyes, glanced back at Julie, and winked. At long, long, long last…somebody understood.