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world is edible -- by humans, that is. Ninety-nine percent of our food is derived from Earth plants.”

“Hence the need for Agents on Earth.”

“Exactly. The rest comes from the colonies. The smell of our native life is why most Florans flock to the cities. I grew up with it and it smells like home to me.”

“Why did your family choose to live in such isolation?”

“I have no idea -- but, I'm happy they did. I loved it here as a kid.”

“It's beautiful.”

“Let's get to work on Koichi's journal.” He led her into the house.

Nyk sat before a vidisplay. He picked up a datacel and inserted it. “Our family never threw anything away. My father had Koichi's original data capsules. I arranged to have the data extracted and put onto these cels.”

“Where are the capsules?”

“At the museum in Floran City.” He began scanning the text.

“What language is this?” she asked.

“It's Esperanto. The Centauri mission was multinational, and Esperanto was the official language.” He began translating into English. “Look here -- this was a passage I had difficulty with. He's making Earth references I don't understand. 'I'd like my reader to know a bit about me. My name is Koichi Kyhana, and I am -- or, was -- the astral navigator aboard the starship Floran, which departed 3 March, 2201 for the Centauri colony; and, which arrived who-knows-where at who-knows-when. The words in this document are simply those of a man -- this is not the Torah nor the Q'uran, nor the Pentateuch.' I don't understand that last statement.”

“He's advising the reader he's only human -- not a god. Those are references to Earth sacred texts.”

“Oh. 'As testaments go, this is far newer than the new -- although based upon our estimates, which puts our Earthbound contemporaries with square and string planning the Pyramids, it's actually older than the old.'” Suki giggled. “What's funny?”

“He was making a pun about the New and Old Testaments of the Bible.”

“I see... There's an example of the Earth context I lack.”

“Koichi must've understood the nature of the temporal paradox.”

“Do you understand it?” he asked.

“I think so.”

“Then, explain it to me, sometime.”

“I thought you were the expert on temporal stuff.”

Nyk laughed. “Not I -- I nearly flunked my temporal theory class. It requires an abstract thinking ability beyond my capacities. All I remember is Quinn's Postulate.”

“Who's Quinn?” she asked. “And, what is his postulate?”

“Bryan Quinn was chief engineer aboard the Floran. He postulated that it is impossible to alter the future based on precognizance. To try creates a temporal paradox -- and, if there's one thing Nature abhors more than a vacuum -- it's a paradox.”

She looked at him. “Can you elucidate?”

“You're beginning to sound like my Agency lecturer.”

“I was a lecturer -- remember?”

“Here's how Quinn's Postulate was explained to me. Suppose I am an ExoAgent, on Earth during some significant historic event.”

“What is a significant historic event?”

“Anything important enough to be written down.” He pondered. “Okay -- suppose I'm an ExoAgent on Earth in the middle of the nineteenth century. The assassination of President Lincoln is a significant historic event -- agreed?”

“I would agree with that.”

“Lincoln was assassinated in 1864.”

“1865,” she corrected him.

“Whatever -- let's say now is 1863. Because the assassination is a significant event, I know about it from Floran records -- I have precognizance. I decide to change history by stopping the assassination. I hunt down and kill ... the guy who killed Lincoln.”

“John Wilkes Booth.”

“Yes -- I hunt him down and kill him in 1863. As a result, the assassination doesn't happen -- it's no longer a significant historic event.”

“It's no longer any event at all,” she replied.

“Right -- if it's not an event, it's not recorded. I have no reason to hunt and kill Booth -- so he lives to kill Lincoln. In order to change history, one would need omnicognizance -- the ability to know ALL the possible futures -- to form a basis for one's actions. Omnicognizance doesn't exist.”

Suki opened her mouth to speak and then paused. She looked at the floor, and then the ceiling. “But -- what about temporal interference?” she finally asked. “According to Quinn's Postulate, there's no such thing.”

“Oh, there is. The difference is precognizance. If I were the same ExoAgent, blundered upon John Wilkes Booth in 1863 and killed him -- because I didn't like the look of his face -- I would've committed temporal interference. I changed history -- although the future would never know of the change...”

“...Because the new timeline supplanted the old one...”

“Exactly -- I think you've got it.”

“But -- HAVE you changed history?” she asked. “If a change can't be detected -- did it occur?”

“Now you're stretching my abstract thinking abilities.”

“It's like a koan. I'll consider this the next time I meditate.”

“Koan?” he asked.

“A metaphysical puzzle.”

He made a silent O. “This puzzle is why I must be so careful with you, korlyta -- since I don't know what the future holds, I must be extra careful not to mess it up. The risk is creating a new timeline in which the Floran hegemony never existed.”

“What else does Koichi say?” she asked. “That journal is fascinating. I'm trying to identify my feelings hearing his words, knowing I'm listening to those written by someone who will be my great-great-great-great-grandson.”

“Give or take a great.” Nyk scrolled the text on the screen. “'I won't tire my reader with begats -- Nicky begat Jeremy who begat Jeffery who begat Akira... I'm sure none of the names in that list will have meaning to the eyes reading these words.'”

She pressed her hand to her stomach. “I was going to name him Nick -- after you. We'd call him Nicky to avoid confusing him with you. Based on Quinn's Postulate, I must name him that, now.”

He looked into her eyes. “You must follow your instincts as to what's right. When the time comes, give him the name your heart dictates. Koichi refers to an ancestor named Nicky. We don't have dates, so we have no way to know which ancestor it is.”

“But, this is the sort of evidence you seek.”

“Yes. The problem is, it's only a passing reference -- and a flippant one at that.” He touched the vidisplay screen. “I'll mark the passage. Let's see if we can find any more.”

Nyk rubbed his eyes. He felt Suki's hand on his shoulder. “Any luck?”

“Nothing. I'm up to year three after PlanetFall. Koichi makes no references to any Earth Kyhanas other than his own parents...” Nyk locked his fingers behind his head.

“How much more is there?”

“Koichi kept his journal faithfully, every day until his death. It covers nearly fifty Floran years -- almost fourteen thousand entries.”

“I'd imagine the early entries would be the most fruitful.”

“Not necessarily. Koichi drops into reminiscences throughout the journal. One other thing -- Koichi named his daughter Yasuko.”

“After my mother?”

“He doesn't tell us why he chose that name. It may be coincidence.”

“These references suggest a link, don't they?”

“Suggest, yes. They don't prove it.” He pulled the datacel from the vidisplay. “I'm becoming bleary-eyed. Let's get some sleep.”

Suki followed him as he removed a blanket from a closet and headed to the lower level. “Where are we going?”

“To sleep outside under the stars -- something I did often as a youth.”

Nyk led her down a slope from the top of the bluff to a bowl-shaped depression lined with black basaltic sand. He spread the blanket. “It's a Floran tradition that bed partners undress each other.” He unlaced her sandals and slipped them from her feet. She removed his and ran her hands along his legs. He lifted her tunic from her body and she did the same.

“I like this tradition.”

Suki lay on the blanket beside him. “Look up,” he said.

“Oh, my God!”

“Ten times the number of stars are visible from the surface of this world, compared to Earth. The night sky is Floran's most beautiful feature.” He pointed skyward. “Do you see that bright, white star?”

“Yes...”

“Beneath it are four dimmer companion stars tracing a lopsided rectangle.”

“I see it.”

“About halfway down the left side of the rectangle and a little to the left is where Earth's sun is -- you can't see it, though sometimes I think I glimpse it out of the corner of my eye.”

“Space travel certainly changes your perspective of the universe. I suddenly realize how small my world is, and how fragile we are -- and how insignificant.”

He caressed her belly. “One person can make the difference.” He looked into her eyes. “Would you share the gift?”

“Loving you has been a gift.”

He continued to caress her abdomen. “I wish it could've led to ... Oh, Suki -- if there were one thing about my life I could change it would be that. I wish I could father your child.”

She caressed his face. He took her hand and placed it upon his chest. She guided his fingers on her body. He traded kisses and caresses with her. “I've learned so much from you.”

“What could I have taught you?” he asked.

“You taught me there's at least one man in the galaxy who's sweet and tender...” He felt her hands against his skin. “You taught me to give and to trust. You taught me how to read your body. Let's use the technique.”

Her yellow-brown skin passed beneath his fingers. “Divide your mind,” he said.

“I have been.”

Nyk began the exercise to separate his awareness. Into the back of his mind he forced the immediate sensations of her caresses while meditating on her responses to his touch. The key to the technique was to find a focus -- something about her body he could use as a visual mantra.

As he established the division he concentrated on reading her body's responses, to form a barrier between his back and front minds. He filled his consciousness with HER -- the texture of her skin, her warmth, the curve of her breast. He felt with her -- feeling the cues her body telegraphed to him -- her breathing, her heartbeat, the tone of her muscles.

He knew Suki was doing the same -- confining her awareness of the excitement mounting in her body. The technique was called delayed-release, and it was one favored by experienced Floran lovers. Each partner strove to build tension in the other while denying his or her own arousal. Then, simultaneously they would release the blocks in their consciousnesses and experience an explosive onslaught of shared sensation.

It was something anyone could learn, and Nyk had taught it to Suki. He knew she'd be a natural at it. The most difficult part was learning the mental discipline. Suki was an experienced mediator and Nyk had figured she could apply those skills.

“What's your key?” she asked. “Or, is that an inappropriate question? A mediator never reveals her mantra.”

He smiled. “That birthmark on your neck -- for tonight, at least.”

“I hate that mark.”

“Sometimes I use that vein by your shoulder.”

“I hate that vein.”

“I love them both. I like little imperfections. They're what make you, you. What's your key?”

She traced his lips with her finger.

He lay on his back and she knelt, straddling his hips. She smoothed her palm against his chest. He placed his hands on her six-month pregnant belly. She took his hand, kissed it and held it against her breast. He could feel her heart pounding through her flesh, and he pressed her hand against his chest so she could feel his.

It was their signal each was ready for release. Nyk dissolved the barrier in his mind, permitting the pent-up sensations to implode into his awareness. Suki rolled her eyes skyward, drew in a deep breath through wide-open mouth, gasped and panted. In the ensuing sensual flood, they became one in the ecstasy of union.

Nyk pulled the blanket over them. Suki lay beside him and stroked his arm. “He's always quiet after. I guess he enjoys the hormone rush as much as I do.” She nuzzled Nyk's neck. “Nykkyo, if my future is your past...”

“Yes?”

“Isn't the fact we're here, together -- now -- mean, everything will work out all right?”

“It means nothing has diverted us from Destiny's plan. Nothing -- so far.”









3 -- I Know Where You Can Hide
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