Chapter 1

Deep in thought, T'Beth strode down the driveway of her father's house and set out on a walk. It was a sunny July morning, the air still and balmy, but she scarcely noticed the weather. She had left her daughter Bethany in the kitchen with Lauren. All the children were helping bake cookies for Jim and Antonia Kirk. It was Lauren's way of dealing with anxiety, and today she was as jumpy as an Ildaran bushcat because her friend Antonia was giving birth in Idaho.

Just now, T'Beth was dealing with her own share of tension. Before long her leave would be over, and something inside her stubbornly resisted setting a wedding date. Her initial happiness over Aaron Pascal's proposal of marriage had been slowly giving way to doubt. At first there was the matter of her career. She enjoyed her work on Sydok for Starfleet's diplomatic corps and had always felt as if God called her to it. Aaron's position as Head of Starfleet Research and Development kept him tied to San Francisco Headquarters. Unless one of them made a change, their marriage would be a long distance affair—the same difficult situation that Spock and Lauren had struggled with for years.

And now, unexpectedly, T'Beth found herself facing an even more troubling complication. The news of Jim's baby was stirring up a whole firestorm of emotions. Of course she felt happy for the couple; surely she was happy. Then why the traitorous stabs of jealousy? Was she really resentful that Toni was having Jim's baby? Or was she just envious of their settled, comfortable life?

The answer was painfully clear. Not long ago, she had been furious when she thought Jim sent her a love note, yet now here she was, pining after him. What was she going to do? Aaron deserved something more from her than a divided heart.

Rising from her worries, she found that—literally, as well as symbolically—she had reached another crossroads. She stopped at the curb. In a nearby tree, a flock of birds let out a raucous call and took off flying. She was still watching them when she heard a rumble. The ground under her feet jolted, then everything went silent.

Such was life in San Francisco. Shrugging it off, she chose a direction and resumed walking. All over the neighborhood, dogs began to howl.

oooo

"Push!"

At the doctor's command, Antonia reared up yet again and focused all her energy on delivering the baby. Jim supported his wife's shoulders, and watching a strategically placed mirror, saw a hairy little head start to crown.

"That's it," the doctor encouraged, "you're doing great, you're almost there…"

"Breathe," Jim reminded Antonia…and himself.

She gasped and gritted her teeth and kept pushing. Down below, the doctor did what he could to help. Bit by bit the wet, greasy head eased from the birth canal. Antonia sucked in a deep breath and tried again. The doctor's knowledgeable fingers freed a little pair of shoulders. Then all at once, the rest of the baby slid free. The doctor caught her in in a towel and suctioned the airways. The baby coughed and struggled. Her skin began to take on a healthy hue.

The cord was severed, the little face wiped clean.

Jim gazed in wonder at his newborn daughter as the doctor wrapped her more securely and placed her in Antonia's arms. Antonia began to weep for joy.

"Oh, Jim," she said, nothing more.

After a moment she held out the child to him. Jim's throat ached as he gathered up the warm little bundle and held her close. Elena True. Yes, that was the name they had chosen in honor of their favorite grandmothers. Hardly five minutes old and Tru had already stolen his heart.

oooo

When the jolt occurred, Spock glanced up from his computer. In California as on Mount Seleya, one came to expect seismic events. This one was small. He saw no reason to leave his study, where he was tending to a long-distant Yanashite concern and staying clear of Lauren's anxious mood. He knew that she would relax only after Jim and Antonia's baby was safely born.

No sooner had he turned back to business than he stopped again. Though the windows were closed, he could hear dogs howling…and it almost seemed that he heard something else, as well. On the very fringe of his lower auditory range. Something indefinable, yet so ominous that he could feel hairs prickling.

Tipping his head, he listened harder. The certainty grew. Yes, there was something there.

He stood up.

And suddenly the earth thundered. The floor pitched beneath his feet, throwing him off-balance. He hit the desk hard and sprawled onto the carpet. Glass shattered. Shelves came crashing down. The walls buckled and wrenched and still the house kept shaking.

oooo

T'Beth landed on the sidewalk. She could feel the cement heaving and cracking under her. In terror she watched the ground ripple, trees sway, limbs snap and fall. Over the roaring she heard screams. Her eyes focused on a house. Near it, the earth was rending apart. The ground opened wide and swallowed half the foundation. Water spewed from broken pipes, electric wires crackled. The house flipped like a toy and slid partway down the hole.

Up the street she heard an explosion. Then another. The terror deepened and she cried out for her child, for her father. She cried out to God, but the shaking continued.

Sirens began to wail. T'Beth recognized the SEW system—Seismic Early Warning, installed with the assistance of Vulcans half a century ago—and suppressed an hysterical urge to laugh. What damn good was it now? And there was only rumbling and swaying and the whole world collapsing around her.

Then, quite abruptly, it all stopped. For a moment T'Beth just lay there absorbing the strange, wonderful stillness, her ears filled with the hammering of her heart. Gradually she became aware of voices. People calling to one another. People weeping.

Numbly she sat up. The palms of her hands stung and she saw that they were scraped and bleeding. Raising her eyes, she looked around at the devastation. It might have been some bombed out Donari city, but her heart told her it was not. She thought of Bethany back at her father's house, down in the kitchen, and got to her feet. And then she was running.

oooo

The house grew still.

In the act of picking himself off the floor, Spock discovered that his right wrist was quite possibly fractured. It was not important. All that mattered was that his home was standing. Despite substantial structural damage, it had held. The family must evacuate at once, before an aftershock brought the house down.

He was making his way across the room, stepping over debris, when a scent of smoke reached him. The door to his adjacent bedroom stood ajar. Inside, the votive candle Lauren kept burning had fallen off her dresser and landed on the floor among some papers. The fire was hot and already beginning to spread. Using his left arm, he dragged the coverlet off the bed and used it to smother the flames. Satisfied, he went to the hall door. Though the frame was warped, he managed to muscle the door open. The air in the hallway was thick with plaster dust—one breath and he began coughing. Around him, the house creaked and settled.

"Lauren!" he called, and holding a sleeve to his lower face, started working his way through the haze. They had performed earthquake drills. Perhaps everyone was already outside.

As he carefully moved forward, the hallway became inexplicably brighter. Nearing the stairs, his steps slowed, until at last he came to a complete halt.

As the dust continued to settle, Spock stared in horror. The staircase was buried in rubble. Overhead, the roof was gone and he stood looking at open blue sky. But more than the roof was missing. This entire section of the upper story had come crashing down—on the entryway, on the living room…and on the kitchen.

oooo

The hard part was over. The baby had safely arrived. The medical staff had finished with Antonia and little Tru. Now the three of them could just rest and enjoy one another's company.

Jim watched his beautiful daughter nestle in Antonia's arms, and thought that he had never been so content. It had not been like this when his son David was born. Then, Jim had been married to his Starfleet career. There had been no relationship with the boy until the very end, just before David died. David had not even carried the Kirk name.

This time it was going to be different. This time they were a family.

A commotion in the corridor disturbed their peaceful moment. A nurses' aide poked her head through the doorway.

"Big earthquake," she said, "check your monitor."

Antonia sighed. "Let's not. I don't want to hear any bad news. Why don't you call Lauren instead? Let her know the baby's here. She's been waiting."

Jim pulled a phone out of a pocket and flipped it open. He hit Spock's code and waited for the call to go through. There was no ringing, only a crackling sound, and then an urgent, repetitious beeping. He tried again. More beeping. A sick feeling settled in the pit of his stomach.

"I'll be right back," he said and hurried out the door.

oooo

"Father! Mom!"

The desperate shouts seemed to come from the sky. Standing in the littered hallway, Spock struggled to focus his mind.

The cry sounded again. "Father, are you there? Mom! Answer me!"

Spock recognized his eldest son's voice and realized that it was indeed originating from outside.

"Mom, Father, anybody, please!"

Spock backtracked up the hallway to Teresa's room. The western wall had broken partly away from the main structure and the floor was sloped at a 17 degree angle. Hoping it would not collapse, he made his way over to a cracked window and looked down into the backyard. Simon was kneeling in the grass.

Relieved, Spock wrenched open the window and called out, "Simon! Are you injured?"

The boy immediately looked up. His eyes scanned the house for some sign of him. "No, I'm fine! Where are you?"

"Up here!" Spock shouted.

Their eyes met and the ground began quaking. Spock instinctively grabbed at the window casing with both hands, sending an explosion of pain through his right wrist. All around him, the house creaked and swayed. Then it was over.

In the yard below, Simon rose off his knees.

"I'm coming down," Spock told him.

Years ago, when this room belonged to T'Beth, she had devised an ingenious method of sneaking away to evade his authority. Now Spock pushed out the window screen, and reminding himself that pain was only a matter of the mind, he climbed out feet first onto the sagging porch roof, then eased down until his legs dangled over the edge. Cradling his wrist, he jumped, landed awkwardly, and tumbled into the grass.

Simon ran over and helped him sit up, anxiously talking all the while. "Is your arm broken? I was out in the yard. I saw it happen. Where's Mom? Where is everyone?"

Spock made no attempt to answer as he got to his feet, turned around, and took his first look at his home. From the outside, the wreckage seemed even worse than he had visualized. He felt his throat tightening with emotion.

"Father." Simon was right beside him. "Father, where are they?"

With his good arm Spock reached out and drew his son close.

oooo

Slowly Jim walked back to the hospital room where his wife and newborn child were waiting. He did not have to tell Antonia about San Francisco. In his absence she had turned on the monitor. Scenes of ruin were being shown all over the Federation.

"Oh, Jim," she said, reaching out to him. Her dark eyes brimmed with tears. "Have you heard anything? Are they alright?"

Jim grasped her warm hand like a lifeline. "I don't know. Communications are down. Thankfully, Bones was off in Georgia visiting his daughter…"

As if reading his mind, she said, "What about Starfleet Headquarters?"

"I checked into it. Most of their buildings are in good shape, and some transporters are functional. With authorization you can still beam in." He hesitated, unsure how she would receive his next words. "Antonia, I asked for permission. Headquarters said I could go. They gave me an hour's clearance."

"An hour." She did not even blink. "Are you sure the transporters are safe?"

"They won't let me through if they're not." It was what he had been telling himself and he sincerely hoped it was true. "Toni, I can't just sit here and do nothing."

"Then go", she said. "Do whatever you can. I'll be praying."

Jim's heart welled with love as he kissed them both goodbye.

oooo

T'Beth felt as if she had been working her way uphill forever, climbing through downed trees, dodging debris, avoiding the gaping fissures that had opened in the earth. Frequent aftershocks stopped her in her tracks. Now and then a survivor grabbed her by the arm and begged for help in digging some loved one out of a collapsed building.

"I'm sorry," she kept repeating. "I have a little girl. I have family here, too. I have to find them."

Smoke began to drift in the air. Down a side street, she saw flames eating at a caved-in structure. Nearby, a woman stood screaming. T'Beth heard a roar of engines swooping down from the sky. A fire tug flashed overhead, bombed the flames with bay water, and vanished into the distance.

Fighting panic, she headed back up the hill. The neighborhood was unrecognizable. How would ever find her father's home? What would she find when she got there?

Then, just up ahead, an address post came into view. It was his! Breaking into a run, she jumping over tree limbs and buckled pavement. A corner of the roof showed through the trees. The old house had survived! Weak with relief, she slowed down. After all, there was no rush now. Everyone was okay.

Then picking her way around a fallen tree, the entire house came into view.

T'Beth froze. Her hands went to her mouth. From somewhere deep inside her, a terrible shriek rose. In her shock she had not noticed the two men standing at the base of the wreckage. Then Simon was rushing toward her and she was in his arm, sobbing.

oooo

Jim emerged from the transporter beam dizzy and disoriented. A hand reached out to steady him. Despite the assistance, he nearly fell before his brain could comprehend that the floor was shaking, and adjust for it. He found his balance and then the quake ended.

"Aftershock, sir," explained the ensign in attendance. "We can expect a lot of them. Admiral, are you here to help?"

Judging by the young man's hopeful expression, he was expecting the former Starfleet legend—civvies and all—to snap his fingers and make everything right.

"Captain," Jim corrected, stepping off the locus. "I retired as a captain. Does your family live here in town?"

He nodded and Jim's heart went out to him. "I'm sorry to hear that, son. Try to be strong. All any of us can do is help one person at a time."

Not waiting for a response, he turned and headed around a corner, toward the transportation desk. The place was a lot quieter than he had expected, and fully electrified. Other than a little broken glass, there was no sign that anything unusual had happened here. The building's architect would be proud.

He was almost to the desk when a bearded man in a disheveled uniform came bolting down a corridor and cut in front of him. A heavy-looking bag hung from his shoulder. The rude fellow leaned with both hands on the transportation counter and fought to catch his breath.

A lone clerk looked up.

"Captain Aaron Pascal," gasped the Frenchman. "I need a skimmer immediately. Tout suite!"

Startled, Jim moved in beside him. "Pascal," he said dryly. "I didn't realize that was you butting in."

T'Beth's fiancé beheld him with his own share of surprise. "Kirk! I thought you were in Idaho."

"I just beamed over." Hopefully Jim asked, "Have you heard from Spock? From his family?"

"Communications are down. I'm trying to get out there and check."

"So am I," Jim told him. "We can share a skimmer."

The clerk spoke up. "The air is closed to all but emergency traffic and evacuees. And that includes groundcars. Nothing's moving, sir. Anyway, the skimmers are gone—they were all turned over to Search and Rescue. Sorry."

Jim bit back a curse.

Pascal absorbed the news with unbelievable composure. Still breathing a bit heavily, he said, "We'll have to find some other way." He began to turn, then glanced back at the clerk as if something had caught his eye. Now staring opening, he moved in behind the counter and asked, "What is that thing crawling on your right shoulder?"

The clerk jumped. As his head swung around for a look, Pascal reached out. His hand closed over the clerk's opposite shoulder, near where it joined his neck. The clerk slumped forward, unconscious, and Pascal eased him to the floor.

"Young man," said the Frenchman, "this is an emergency."

Jim's jaw dropped. "How did you do that?"

Pascal was already working the console. Studying the readout, he said, "This fellow was telling the truth. There aren't any skimmers—but wait a minute! Here's something." He quickly secured it for their use, then started down the corridor at a brisk pace.

"Come on," he said to Kirk, "hurry!"

Jim ran to catch up, and then they were side by side.

"A nerve pinch!" Jim could not get over it. "Spock taught you?"

"But of course," Pascal answered matter-of-factly.

Embarrassed, Jim kept his mouth shut. Over the years, Spock had tried to teach him, too—repeatedly. He had never been able to get the hang of it, but then, few humans ever did.

They arrived at the transportation depot and walked out into the yard. The air reeked of smoke and they had to step carefully because the pavement had been broken into slabs.

Jim looked around and saw only ground cars. "Where's the skimmer?"

"I didn't say anything about a skimmer," came the astonishing reply. Pascal kept moving. Something caught his eye and he turned sharply.

Jim was getting annoyed. If there was no skimmer, why were they wasting their time here?

Pascal leaned over to examine a fallen Airbike. "Give me a hand," he said.

Jim helped set the machine upright. He watched, incredulous, as Pascal swiped his Starfleet I.D. through the bike's reader, and climbed on.

Pascal unhooked a pair of helmets hanging from the bike. Strapping one on, he asked, "Are you coming?"

"On that?" Jim exclaimed.

Pascal powered up the machine. "Sorry, Captain," he said with more than a hint of sarcasm, "the starships have all been taken."

Jim felt like knocking his ass off the bike, but controlling himself, he grabbed the other helmet and jumped on. Then they were in the air, and what he saw made him forget any personal animosity. The early news coverage had not conveyed the full scope of this disaster. Everywhere he looked, buildings were in state of collapse. Some skyscrapers were entirely missing. Huge columns of smoke rose from the business district, creating a pungent haze that made his eyes water. Smaller blazes could be seen all over the residential neighborhoods. The city was in complete ruin.

Jim clung tight to Pascal and looked out at the Golden Gate Bridge. Its roadbed was severely damaged. Fire tugs hovered over the bay, taking up water, then darting off to chase fires. Skimmers moved in all directions.

Suddenly the bike dipped, narrowly missing an air ambulance. Jim felt his adrenaline surge.

"We're as illegal as hell!" he shouted. Even if they survived this crazy ride, they might well be arrested and thrown in jail for defying the emergency restrictions. Not that it would have stopped Jim, but he was surprised—yet again—that T'Beth's Frenchman was not playing it safe. He did not fit Jim's idea of a scientist, but then Spock had not always fit the image, either.

The thought of Spock and his family sent a fresh shaft of pain through his heart. T'Beth. Lauren. The children. Images of crushed or burned bodies flashed through his mind as they soared closer and closer to their destination.

Pascal turned in the general direction of Spock's home and began to slow. Block after block of rubble passed beneath them. They dodged a half dozen fires and arced around for a closer look. Everywhere the damage was just as terrible.

Now Pascal came in low, just a few meters above the treetops. Survivors were milling around aimlessly, as if dazed. Would they ever find Spock? Were they even searching the right neighborhood?

oooo

With his two eldest children beside him, Spock stared at the ruin of his home and attempted to think logically. Now that the first shock was passing, he could sense deep in his bonding center that his wife was not dead, after all. But that certainty only intensified the urge to tear through the rubble with his bare hands—one of which was now useless. There was no way to approach the present calamity with complete dispassion. He knew that the Shiav would not expect it, would not even advocate it. But Yanash would expect him to control his fear and think clearly.

Aloud he said, "Lauren is alive."

Simon swung around, clutching at the straw of hope. "Mom's alive? Are you sure?"

"As certain as any bonded Vulcan can be," Spock replied. "The children were most likely in the kitchen close by her, baking cookies as they had planned. Therefore it is possible that they also have survived."

"We have to get help," Simon cried. A rescue flight was passing overhead. Running after it, he waved his arms, yelling, "Wait! Over here! Come back!"

T'Beth watched, silent tears running down her face.

The flight continued on and Simon trudged back up the driveway.

"That was a waste of energy," Spock told him.

The teen gave him an angry look. "What am I supposed to do? Nothing? Tell me what to do!"

Spock felt his own composure starting to slip. It was taking more and more effort to view the situation with any detachment, but he reminded himself that however dark the situation appeared, there was One whose unfailing strength would sustain them.

Finally he said, "Simon, I share your frustration. Considering the scope of this disaster, who knows when help will reach us? A wise man once said, 'We must pray as if everything depended upon God and work as if everything depended upon us'."

"Yanash?" Simon ventured to guess.

"A human named St. Ignatius of Loyola. It is excellent advice. First let us seek God's help in prayer, then we will formulate a plan of action."

It was in that moment of silent recollection that Spock remembered. He opened his eyes. "Simon. Out in the tool shed. I am certain there is a laser saw."

The teenager gladly ran to find it.

Spock looked at his daughter's pale, stricken face. "We know where they are likely to be found. Piece by piece, we will cut our way toward them."

She gave a slow, disheartened nod, then seemed to rouse herself. Softly she said, "Thank God you're here." Her eyes went to his swollen, discolored wrist. "Let me get that splinted for you."

oooo

Jim was starting to get airsick. With each turn of the bike, he felt his hope slipping away. From up here, it was all but impossible to identify the area. There was so little left to recognize. Everything looked the same.

At last Pascal brought the bike down in the middle of a street and asked directions from a man standing forlornly on the broken pavement.

The man considered. Pointing his finger westward, he said, "Next block over."

Then they were back in the air.

Jim's pulse raced with excitement. How utterly simply, how obvious. Ask for directions. Pascal really was a genius.

Treetops rushed by as they followed the rise of the hill. Spock's place would be among those at the top. Here and there, a house was still standing. Maybe Spock's would be standing, too.

"There!" Up ahead, Jim glimpsed a section of roof.

Pascal dropped altitude, swerved to avoid a fallen tree, and aimed at a clear patch of driveway. The Airbike landed with a thud that jolted Jim's spine, but he scarcely noticed. For a long, terrible moment neither he nor Pascal moved. Together they sat staring at the collapsed structure.

High atop the wreckage, Simon was preparing to wield the laser saw under his father's direction. It would be T'Beth's job to hurl the severed chunks of debris out of the way. Hearing a bike land, she glanced up from her unsteady perch and saw the newcomers. They were not from Search and Rescue, but the helmeted pair appeared to be men, and one wore a Starfleet uniform.

Waving an arm, she shouted, "Hello!"

Abruptly the pair climbed off the bike, removed their helmets, and headed over.

T'Beth saw their faces and her heart leaped. "Dad, it's Jim! It's Aaron!"

She hurried down off the pile and there was no question of who to embrace first. Aaron had already caught hold of her with a fierceness of emotion that moved her to tears.

With a catch in his voice, Aaron said, "I thought I lost you."

They kissed. Then T'Beth hugged Jim and filled them in on the situation. Jim rolled up his sleeves and went over to help Spock and Simon.

Aaron swung a bag off his shoulder. Reaching inside, he drew out a tricorder and said, "This will tell us…" There was no need for him to say anything more.

Struck with fear, T'Beth stared at the sensing device. She almost wished he had not brought it. She was not ready to hear that her daughter, and perhaps the rest of her family, were all crushed to death. She wanted to cling to hope a little longer.

Somehow she forced out the words. "Go ahead. I'll stay here."

Aaron's kind eyes told her that he understood fully, that this task was not easy for him, either. She watched him walk up the driveway and stop at the heap of debris. Glancing toward her father, she saw that he had taken notice of the tricorder. Then Simon and Jim also realized what was happening and paused in their work.

As Aaron bent over the tricorder to study its readings, T'Beth pressed a fist to her mouth and waited.

Raising his head, Aaron flashed a quick smile at everyone. "They're alive!" he announced loudly. "They're all in there…together…alive!"

oooo

Deep down in the darkness, three frightened children huddled beneath the butcher block table where Lauren had shoved them before the ceiling collapsed.

"Where is she?" Teresa repeated tearfully, and called out yet again, "Mom! Mom! Can't you hear me?"

No one answered.

"Listen!" James hissed.

Teresa heard only the drip, drip, dripping of the broken pipes. Then…a rumble. All at once, everything was shaking again. Pieces of the house were shifting and she cried out in terror.

Finally it stopped.

Pressed close against her, Bethany trembled and whimpered, "Mommy…mommy…"

Teresa reached into the black places beyond their cramped refuge. Nothing much had changed. If anything, the wreckage trapping them was jammed even tighter than before. She kept thinking of her mother somewhere under it. Why wouldn't she answer? Was she dead?

"Jamie," she cried.

She felt her brother's arm slip around her and was comforted. Her thoughts wandered back to the early years when James had been so small and sickly, and she was always the one comforting him. Things had been different since Yanash healed him. Mom started taking them to church, enrolled them at St. Bridget School, and even took time to pray with them. All the changes had made Teresa happy, except for the way Daddy spent so much of his time on Vulcan with the Yanashites. And now maybe he was dead, too. At that terrible thought, she broke down completely and sobbed.

oooo

All day the aftershocks came and went, shifting the debris, making the recovery effort treacherous. They divided themselves into two work teams, spelling each other as they cut their way down through the rubble. Spock did what he could to help, but even with his wrist splinted, his right hand barely functioned. Using his good hand, he dragged patio furniture to a makeshift camp in the front yard. He gathered outdoor solar lights and brought them to the work site for later. Food and water would be a problem. Aaron's bag contained some cheese, a few apples, and a Water Genie that drew moisture directly from the air. The Genie could produce a cup of water per hour and considerably more if the fog rolled in. Everyone was thirsty.

At one point during the day, Spock walked up and down the street, offering the use of their tricorder to neighbors with trapped loved ones. In all too many cases, there were no life signs. As evening approached, Simon climbed a ladder into Teresa's bedroom window and retrieved some blankets, warm clothing, and his violin. At sundown the fog came, and Jim and Simon began another shift.

T'Beth and Aaron picked their way out of the debris and passed her father, who had the tricorder humming again. If there was any change, he would tell them. Worn out, they settled side by side onto lawn chairs and covered themselves with blankets. Up at the work site, the cluster of yard lights cast an eerie glow.

With a shiver T'Beth thought of her daughter, of all of them trapped somewhere under the ruined house. "They must be cold down there."

Aaron brought out a pocket knife, sliced up a big, red apple and put some pieces in her hand. The fruit was juicy and delicious, but her throat tightened as she ate.

"If Bethany doesn't make it…"

"She will," Aaron reassured her. "They all will."

"…I don't think I could go on without her," she finished dispiritedly. Her heart was leaden and she felt close to tears. It seemed as if she had been crying all day.

Gently Aaron said, "Bethany is alright. Life will go on. There will be three of us, T'Beth. Three of us, together."

Turning, she dimly saw the contours of his bearded face. "Aaron, you're so patient with me, so kind. Somehow, after the quake, I knew you would be alright. That didn't worry me, but I never thought you'd find your way here. Strange that you and Jim came together. On an Airbike!" And she could not help adding, "I bet that was Jim's idea."

When at last Aaron spoke, his voice was painfully wooden. "My patience only goes so far, T'Beth. You promised to marry me, but won't discuss a date. Now you say that you weren't even concerned about my safety. As for the Airbike, ask the bold Captain Kirk—his was the first name on your lips when we arrived."

As he got up and walked away, T'Beth felt as if her heart was breaking in two.

oooo

Something shook Teresa and she woke up scared, but this time it was not an earthquake. Jamie's hand was pushing on her shoulder.

"Are you awake?" he whispered excitedly. "I heard something!"

Teresa listened. All around, it was dark and silent. She started to shiver. "I don't hear anything. I'm so cold, Jamie."

Close beside her, Bethany stirred in her sleep.

"I'm thirsty, too," Teresa said low. "And awfully hungry…"

"So am I," James admitted.

Teresa felt hot tears welling in her eyes. "I think Mom's dead. I think everyone's dead."

At first James made no reply. Then, very softly, he said, "We'll see them in Heaven. Remember?"

The idea made Teresa feel a little better. "Maybe…maybe we'll see them pretty soon. I wonder what it's like. To die."

They decided that now would be a good time to pray.