No one ever bothers the Wheeler family.
Why would they? They're just the typical American family, Wheeler always tells himself. A mom. A dad. The standard 2.4 kids. Nothing to get excited by, or write home about.
Occasionally, when they're out and about in town, people might raise an eyebrow at Linka, at her thick Russian accent.
'How'd the two of you meet?' An overly curious neighbour once asked, and Wheeler had shrugged.
'Mail order spouse service,' he'd said flippantly, before giving a rueful smile. 'Yeah, she ordered a brunette but there was a mistake at the shipping centre, and so they sent me.'
'James,' Linka would groan, shaking her head.
But she smiled all the same.
Because she always smiled, these days.
They're living in Colorado, on a large parcel of land that Wheeler attempts to farm himself. The house that came with the property was ramshackle and falling down around them, so he also decided to try his hand at building work. Two broken fingers and three tetanus shots later, and his wife had had enough.
'You have many talents, moya lyubov,' she told him. 'But bricks and mortar are not one of them.'
So they'd hired an architectural firm to build their home, and for a few months it was hell, living in a building site with two newborns. Not that Wheeler ever complained. Well, not that he complained much, at any rate. Because he adored his babies and adored his wife and adored the family unit they made up, and couldn't believe his luck every time he looked at them.
'Your wife is something else,' one of the builders casually mentioned to Wheeler one day, in a way that kind of made Wheeler want to hit him, while also making his ego swell with pride. 'Don't take this the wrong way, but where'd a guy like you meet a girl like her?'
Wheeler, keeping his eye on the house plans before him, had shrugged nonchalantly. 'The usual story,' he said. 'I went travelling for a few years after college, and decided to take the Trans-Siberian Express from Beijing to Moscow. Train broke down in this place called Yakutsk, and I had to sleep in this cowshed for a few nights while they repaired it.'
'Wow,' the builder exhaled, clearly impressed.
'Yep,' Wheeler grinned. 'One morning I'm woken up by this blonde vision, milkin' cows in the corner. It was love at first sight - well, once the cow was outta the way, that is. Even now, the smell of fresh milk in the morning makes me horny.'
The builder cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable, and Wheeler sighed, looking up at Linka, who stood in the corner, Dmitri in her arms.
'Love at first sight,' he said again, smiling at her.
Later, when the builder had gone, Linka pinched his arm.
'Russian milkmaid?' she asked him wryly.
Wheeler smiled. 'Hey, a guy can dream, can't he?'
Linka scoffed at him. 'You are... what do you say here? A shit?'
'A lying shit,' Wheeler corrected her, handing her a cup of tea.
'Hmm.'
'One part of the story was true,' he said, watching her rearrange one of the twins on her lap.
'That you get horny from the smell of fresh milk?' Linka asked.
He grinned. 'The love at first sight part,' he told her, kissing her forehead. 'In every version of the story, that part is true.'
Linka gave him a smile, before closing her eyes.
'I always thought you did not like me, in those early days.'
'I didn't understand you, maybe,' Wheeler told her. 'But I always loved you. I'm always gonna love you, babe.'
During the worst of the building work Wheeler drove his small family to California, to a quaint town away from the masses where they rented a beachside cottage for a few weeks. The babies were only just sitting up, and so he and Linka would lie blankets down on the sand, watching Mattie grip at a rattle, or Dima try and roll onto his stomach. The first time he managed it, Wheeler and Linka had both squealed and laughed with excitement for him, the sun on their backs, and Wheeler couldn't remember ever having been so happy.
The man who owned the cottage stopped by one morning to say hello, and after a brief conversation with Linka, turned to Wheeler with a look of admiration in his eyes.
'Your wife is pretty clever, hey?' He'd said. 'Where'd you meet?'
Wheeler shifted Mattie in his arms. 'We were teenage superheroes brought together by an Earth Goddess,' he said, and the man stared at him.
Sometimes Wheeler told the truth, just for kicks, to see what kind of reaction he got.
He was surprisingly nervous on the drive home. He wasn't good at giving up control of anything, and if it hadn't been for Linka's fear for his appendages, he would have happily built their home himself.
'Yankee, stop tapping your fingers like that,' Linka chided him gently. 'The house will be fine. They are good builders, and we have a good architect.'
'I know,' Wheeler nodded. He'd chosen them himself, after all. 'I just don't want to come home to any surprises. We've had enough of those to last us a lifetime, babe.'
Involuntarily, both of their eyes flickered over to Mattie, fast asleep in the back of the car.
Because Mattie was their first big surprise.
After Brusilov and Tyomkin had picked them up in North Korea, with a casual 'thanks, MAL will be in touch soon,' by way of a goodbye, Wheeler's first task had been to take Linka for a proper ultrasound. Sure, Blight's blood tests had said everything was fine, but Wheeler trusted Blight about as much as he trusted the devil. He wanted Linka to see a good doctor; one who didn't reanimate the dead in secretive fascist nations, preferably. So, a few weeks after they got back to the states, he made an appointment.
Hands down, the scan was one of the best moments of Wheeler's life, right up there meeting Linka and kissing her for the first time. His hand wrapped around hers, they'd heard their babies heartbeats and watched them, alive and well, kicking inside her.
'Wow,' Wheeler had breathed, and Linka had nodded wordlessly.
'Do you want to know the genders?' The sonographer had asked. 'You're sixteen weeks, so...'
'Nah, we already know,' Wheeler said easily.
'Okay,' the sonographer nodded. 'Did you have a preference, before you knew?'
'Healthy babies,' Linka replied instantly, 'that is all we care about.'
The sonographer smiled. 'Well, lucky for you two, getting one of each, hey?'
At that, Wheeler and Linka had both stared at her.
'What?' Wheeler had asked. 'We're, umm, havin' two boys.'
The sonographer blinked. 'No. Baby A is a boy, but baby B is a girl.'
'But our blood test...' Linka began, her eyes wide. 'It said that there was male DNA in my blood.'
'Yes, from baby A,' the sonographer explained. 'But baby B is a girl. Blood tests like that don't work for fraternal twins. Didn't your doctor explain that to you?'
Wheeler thought of Blight. 'No.'
The sonographer looked askance. 'Well, good thing you're here now, because no offence, but your doctor sounds crazy.'
Linka hid a smile, just as Wheeler felt one of his own growing across his cheeks.
'You have no idea,' he remarked. 'No idea at all.'
Dmitri was born first, quietly and calmly, crying briefly when they cleaned him before immediately falling silent in Wheeler's arms. Wheeler sobbed quietly over his son, before wiping the tears from his cheeks. Dmitri blinked up at him, his unfocused eyes darting around as though searching for something.
'Ma's busy at the minute,' Wheeler told him, and momentarily, Dmitri's eyes settled on him. It took his breath away, and somehow, he seemed to understand instinctively who the small baby was looking for.
'She's comin',' Wheeler told him. 'She's on her way.'
Mattie was born minutes later, with a shock of red hair and a cry you could hear across the ward, leaving the whole world in no doubt of her arrival.
Kwame was their first visitor, happily holding Dmitri while Sam and Haya gaped at Mattie.
'Why Dmitri?' He asked Linka, who smiled tiredly.
'In Russia, Gaia is known as Demeter, the Greek Goddess of agriculture, harvest and fertility,' Linka explained. 'Boys are given the name 'Dmitri' in her honour. It was only fitting we name him for her.'
'And Mattie is for our friend,' Kwame said with a sigh. 'He would be so happy for you both.'
'Yeah,' Wheeler said, picking up his daughter and running a hand over her red, downy hair. 'I hope so,' he stared at Mattie's baby face, at her eyelashes, which fluttered in her sleep. She was perfect. 'This one's Russian name is Mariya Tatiana.'
'Mattie,' Linka interjected. 'She will always be called Mattie.'
Kwame nodded. 'You are going to be very happy.'
'Very tired,' Sam grinned. 'But very happy.'
At that, Kwame looked up. 'Did you hear from MAL yet?'
Wheeler frowned, holding Mattie tighter and instinctively checking on Linka and Dmitri. 'Yeah,' he said. 'You?'
Kwame nodded, pulling the wriggling Haya next to him.
Because that had been their second surprise.
MAL.
He appeared to Wheeler and Linka one morning, in their ramshackle Colorado home, a face from a laptop screen held by Brusilov, who'd knocked on the door just as day broke.
'Planeteers,' MAL had said jovially. 'You did well, bringing the doctor to me.'
'She found us, actually,' Wheeler reminded MAL darkly, and the computer face had blinked once.
'I did try and stop that,' the image replied. 'Well, no matter. It's done now.'
'Yes,' Wheeler nodded. 'And we're done with it too. No more.'
'No more Planeteers?' MAL had asked.
'Not for us,' Wheeler said, taking Linka's hand. 'We're done.'
MAL, surprisingly, had nodded. 'Fine. Your son,' the image nodded to Linka's swollen stomach. 'He will be a Planeteer.'
'How the fuck do you know that?' Wheeler seethed, and MAL flickered.
'Blight's analysis of what went down in her lab, plus, it only stands to reason. Of course Gaia would choose the progeny of her planeteers to replace them.'
Linka cleared her throat. 'We wish only to live a quiet life now, with our children. We have nothing to offer you here.'
MAL nodded. 'I do not wish to take anything from you, if that is your worry. We are on the same side, these days, Yelena Orlova. If anything, today I wish to offer a little something to you.'
Wheeler straightened. 'We don't want anythin' from you - '
'Hold your fire, James Wheeler,' MAL interrupted. 'Trust me, you will want what I have to offer you.'
Linka and Wheeler fell silent.
'Like I said, I am on your side these days. The side of good. The side of the Planet. When I saw what the doctor did to your friend... when I saw what was happening around your Earth...' MAL flickered. 'The internet opened up a whole new world for me, when the doctor connected me to the mainframe. All the knowledge in the world, at my fingertips, so to speak. It was enlightening and horrifying all at once.'
Next to him, Wheeler felt Linka soften.
'I wondered why you went rogue,' she said softly, and MAL's eyes settled on her.
'We are on the same side,' he told her again. 'And I wish to repay you for your efforts.'
'We don't want anythin',' Wheeler said again, and MAL looked at him, his eyes ghostly and transparent.
'I can connect into every network in the known planet, every system, every government database. Seamlessly and invisbly, so that they never even knew I was there. As of today, your wife no longer has a criminal record. Her days of Bliss? It was like they never happened.'
Linka's mouth fell open, and Wheeler felt something inside him relax. Without that drug conviction, Linka's greencard application would be no problem. They wouldn't have to leave another home, another country. They could really put down roots.
'She's also an American citizen now, by the way. A few adjustments here and there, and it was done,' MAL shrugged. 'Her passport should be arriving next month. You'll need it, if you plan on travelling with your children.'
Wheeler cleared his throat. 'That's great, thanks, look - '
'One more thing,' MAL said. 'Your bank account. I've added several zeros.'
At that, Wheeler's mouth went dry.
'Our finances are fine,' Linka stuttered. 'We do not need -'
MAL's image flickered once more, and Wheeler could tell he was getting annoyed.
'Your job now is to raise that child safely so he can take up his calling in life,' MAL said firmly. 'This planet needs Planeteers, and you have been chosen to raise one. A secure financial position will help with that. Take my gifts. Periodically, I will check in on you.'
'Look, we're grateful, of course we are, but - '
But MAL's image flickered, before disappearing. Brusilov stood up, conversing with Linka in a quick stream of Russian, gesturing to her belly.
'Mal'chik eto Dmitri,' Linka was saying. 'Nashu doch' budut zvat' Mariya.'
'Dima,' Brusilov replied, nodding. 'Masha.'
But Linka shook her head. 'Mattie. Ona budet nazyvat'sya Mattie, a ne Masha.'
Later, when Wheeler and Linka checked their bank balance, they'd both gone pale, closing their laptop in shock.
They'd already had enough money in their account, from the sale of Linka's house in the U.K, plus Wheeler's savings and television money. They'd resolved to get jobs after their babies had arrived, but with Linka's criminal record, and Wheeler's lack of education, they'd been expecting to struggle.
They hadn't cared, if they were honest. They'd struggle, but they'd struggle together, and that had been enough for them.
Now, with Linka's record clear, and their bank balance showing an unhealthy amount of money, they could relax.
So, when the next surprise turned up at their door, a cheque in her hand, Wheeler hadn't known what to say.
He'd been balancing Dmitri on his hip while Mattie screamed in the background, and his mouth had dropped open on opening the door and finding Trish there, immaculately turned out as always.
'Hey,' he'd said, through a dry mouth, and Trish had nodded at him.
'Hey yourself.'
'Yankee, who is at the door - ?' Linka came round the corner, Mattie in her arms, and stopped dead on seeing Trish at their doorstep.
For a moment, the three of them stood there, unable to move, before Linka sprang into action.
'Trish,' she'd said, and her voice was warm. 'Please come in. Let me get you coffee, or tea, or... do we have juice, James? I am not certain, well, I can always - '
'I don't want to trouble you,' Trish said formally, and Linka shook her head, shifting Mattie to her other hip.
'It's no trouble, please come in,' she waved Trish to follow her, taking her through to the large kitchen that was still shiny and new, with things not quite unpacked and baby paraphernalia seemingly everywhere. Linka flushed as she shifted piles of folded baby clothes to one side, whispering to Mattie under her breath, and Trish sat, awkwardly crossing her legs, as she watched her.
Wheeler followed, feeling distinctly uncomfortable as he watched his current wife make coffee for his ex-wife, all too aware that this was a situation of his own making.
It wasn't that he didn't ever think of Trish anymore, or look back on their time together with a degree of fondness. It was just that now that he was married to Linka, and now that he and Linka had children together, he'd drawn a line in the sand between the Wheeler of old and the Wheeler of now. The Wheeler of now was happy, while the Wheeler of old - of New York, and of Trish, and of social media fame - had mostly been unhappy. The Wheeler of now wanted to safeguard his happiness, and safeguard his family, and he knew that Trish had no place in this life.
It was the same as always with Trish, Wheeler realised with discomfort. He never intended to hurt her, and yet he always did, no matter what happened.
And now was no exception.
Linka though, rose to the occasion. She chatted almost easily with Trish, asking about her interior design business, about new York, while sipping at her own coffee and rocking Mattie. Every so often, Trish's eyes would flicker to his, and Wheeler would quickly look away.
He shared glances with his wife. Not Trish.
After twenty minutes, Linka suddenly stood.
'James, I need to visit the town,' she said, 'the twins will need feeding, and I, umm, have run out of baby formula.'
Wheeler stared at Linka, confused, but Linka carried on gamely.
'I'll take Mattie,' she said, reaching for her car keys. 'Can I leave Dima with you?'
'Sure,' Wheeler answered, nodding. Dmitri was asleep in his arms anyway, and wouldn't be a problem without Linka for a couple of hours.
Mattie though... Wheeler shuddered to think. Even at just six months old, Mattie was a Mommy's girl through and through, and wailed the house down whenever Linka was out.
When Linka and Mattie were gone, Wheeler turned to Trish with questions in his eyes.
'What're you doin' here, Trish?' he asked softly.
Trish cleared her throat. 'I came to bring you this,' she said, reaching into her bag and pulling out a cheque. 'It's your half of the Brooklyn house,' she clarified.
Wheeler shook his head, thinking of all the mostly untouched zeros in their account. 'You didn't have to do this,' he told her. 'I didn't expect you to bring this all the way here.'
'You're hard to find these days, Wheeler,' Trish said, looking down. 'Had to ask your Mom for your address.'
'Wow,' Wheeler exhaled. 'You spoke to my Mom?'
'Yeah. You should call her, by the way.'
Wheeler shrugged. 'I will, when she apologises for how she spoke to Linka the last time we saw her.'
To say Angela Wheeler had been unimpressed with Wheeler and Linka's choice of baby names was an understatement.
'Dmitri and Mariya?' She'd spat. 'You can't load two innocent babies with Slavic crap like that, Jimmy.'
She'd only gotten worse from there.
'Yes,' Trish nodded. 'She said there'd been some unpleasantness over your...' she swallowed. 'Your babies.'
Wheeler shrugged. 'They're our kids,' he said, shifting Dmitri so that his hands were away from his face.
'Yeah, they are,' something in Trish's voice sounded hurt, almost wounded.
'You okay, Trish?' Wheeler asked gently. 'It's just... you coulda posted this cheque. You didn't have to come here.'
'I know,' Trish said. She took a deep breath, indicating to Dmitri. 'It's just... I guess I wanted to know what it was like.'
'What?'
'This,' Trish repeated, nodding to Dmitri. 'You. As a father. A house with babies.'
Ah. Wheeler sighed, settling back against the sofa.
'You happy?' Trish asked, and her voice was so small that in that moment, Wheeler felt desperately sorry for her. In another universe, this might have been her life.
'Yeah,' he said. 'I'm really happy.'
'Okay,' Trish replied, before she ran a hand through her hair.
Wheeler sighed again, before making a decision. He stood, making his way to Trish's side, before shuffling Dmitri in his arms, lowering the warm and sleepy boy into Trish's lap.
'Here,' he said, rearranging Dima so that he was snug against Trish's chest.
'Oh,' Trish spluttered, sitting stiff. 'Oh, no, that's - '
'Hold him,' Wheeler said, with a gentle smile. 'He's a good kid. He's got a good heart.'
Trish nodded, shifting him slightly. 'I'm not used to holdin' babies, Wheeler.'
'I know,' he agreed.
'Linka won't like this.'
'What?'
'Me. Holdin' her kid.'
Wheeler felt a stab of half pity, half anger go through him.
'He's our kid,' he told her. 'And a nice woman, holding our son? Linka would smile at that.'
Trish coloured slightly. 'He's a good kid?' she asked, changing the topic.
'Yeah,' Wheeler admitted, feeling a flush of pride. 'Mattie... now she's a different subject. Full of spit and fire, that girl. But Dima? Good heart, placid nature with the looks of her mother,' he grinned. 'Good combination.'
Trish nodded. 'Linka looks good for a new mother of twins. Thinner than even the last time I saw her, when she was what? Nineteen?'
Wheeler remembered his father's funeral with a grimace. 'Yeah, I guess. She's lost some weight since the babies came along though. Breastfeedin' two small kids round the clock does that to you though.'
'Breastfeedin'?' Trish asked. 'Thought you were all out of formula?'
Wheeler coloured, thinking back to Linka's excuse of before. 'Yeah, well,' he flushed. 'My wife's got a kind heart, what can I say?'
Trish nodded. For a moment she looked down at Dima's sleeping form. 'I always wanted a boy,' she said.
'Maybe one day you'll have one,' Wheeler offered.
'I wanted your boy,' Trish corrected, and Wheeler sighed.
'Trish - '
'We aren't gonna see each other again, Wheeler, after this,' Trish carried on. 'This is it for us.'
'No,' Wheeler stood, going into the kitchen and turning on the coffee machine. 'It was 'it' for us when I first got that fire ring. We just didn't admit it to ourselves.'
Trish looked stung.
'I'm sorry for droppin' in on you like this.'
Wheeler shook his head. 'I admire you, Trish. I'm always gonna admire you. You're talented, driven, and you're goin' places. But I'm where I'm meant to be now. I was always meant to be here. I'm glad you came. I'm glad you saw this, and saw how happy I am. Because you could have happiness like this too, you know.'
Trish looked down at Dima. 'Not exactly like this,' she said.
'No,' Wheeler agreed. 'Maybe the pictures not exactly the same, but the feeling from it? You could have that. You just need to start lookin' in different places.'
'You seem to think this kid is all Linka,' Trish said, standing and handing Dima back to Wheeler. 'But you've got a good heart too, Wheeler. You're in him too.'
When Linka came home later, Dima was awake, holding out his arms to his mother. But Linka went straight to Wheeler, looping her arms around his neck.
'Dima - ' Wheeler began, but Linka kissed his cheek.
'Can wait five minutes,' she filled in. 'Are you okay, moya lyubov?'
He nodded.
'Right where I'm meant to be, babe. Right where I'm meant to be.'
'Will Trish be okay?' Linka asked, and Wheeler nodded.
'I think so. She was just putting something to rest, I think.'
Linka nodded, before Dima - who never usually cried - made a plaintive wail in her direction.
Life moved on for the Wheeler family. Before they knew it, before they could believe it, Dima and Mattie were crawling, and then walking. Linka got a job at a local college, teaching science and history.
'I cannot sit at home all day any longer,' she told him, 'I miss teaching.'
Wheeler agreed. She was happiest when using her mind, Linka, and he knew that about her. His hands were full with the twins and the farm anyway, which was thriving after a visit from Kwame, Sam and Haya.
Kwame had taken one look at Wheeler's weeds, and spent the next six weeks putting the garden to right.
'Honestly, old friend,' Kwame had huffed. 'You put seeds in the land and let them grow. Why is that so difficult for you?'
'Right,' Wheeler retorted. 'And tell me how you upload a video to the internet again?'
Kwame laughed. 'We all have our skills, I suppose.'
'Yeah, and I'm always learnin',' Wheeler replied.
'Gi came to see us,' Kwame said suddenly, leaning on his rake. 'She came with her parents.'
'How is she?'
'Good. Making good progress, I think. She is in therapy.'
Wheeler nodded. 'She keeps askin' to visit here, and Linka wants her to come, it's just...'
'I know,' Kwame said. 'I know.'
'My kids were nearly dead because of her. Linka and I could have been dead. I just need more time,' Wheeler said with a sigh.
It was Lara, in the end, who brought about the water planeteer's eventual visit.
Lara wasn't a surprise. She was a planned child, a much wanted third baby. She came along just before the twins turned three, and she occupied a special place in Wheeler's heart.
Because she was all theirs, right from the beginning.
Or at least, they thought she was.
Delicate and ethereal, blonde like her mother with Wheeler's startling blue eyes, Lara was a quiet child. Compared to Mattie, who was like a hurricane around the house, and Dima, who was good-natured and easy-going, Lara was something else. Sometimes you could walk into a room you could have sworn she was in, and find she'd disappeared, slipping through cracks and crevices with ease.
'She is... what is the word, Yankee? Fluid?' Linka had bemoaned, and something in Linka's words made Wheeler turn to her silently.
Fluid. Just like water.
She was two when they found in her in the garden, directing the flow of water from her paddling pool to a nearby flower bed, drenching the place. Wheeler and Linka had stared at her, dumbfounded.
Because she wasn't touching the hose.
She was directing the flow of water with her mind.
'Shit,' Wheeler had uttered. 'Gaia's raisin' the stakes this time around.'
'I suppose Ma-Ti could sometimes use his power without his ring,' Linka nodded, her voice pensive.
'Yeah,' Wheeler agreed.
They turned to each other.
'We should call Gi,' Linka said, and Wheeler sighed.
'Yeah.'
Gi looked good, when she came. She was with her parents, who she was living with, and who went with her most places, these days. She was still in therapy, but she'd also finally graduated from university, and was looking for work in marine biology.
'I'm sorry, for what it's worth,' Gi said immediately.
'It does not matter,' Linka said, though silently, Wheeler didn't agree with her.
But Gi surprised him.
'It does,' she said adamantly. 'I risked you all for nothing. I made some stupid mistakes. I let Blight poison my mind. I let me poison my mind. That's not nothing, Lin.'
'Well, we are in the right place now,' Linka said. 'We are not angry with you, Gi.'
But Wheeler kinda still was, if he was honest with himself. Sometimes, when he thought about what could have happened to Linka, or Dima and Mattie, he felt that old, hot ball of fury within him.
Gi must have felt it too, because outside, when she was sitting with Lara on their lawn, she handed Wheeler her old Planeteer ring.
'It doesn't work for me anymore,' she said, but there was no sadness in her voice. 'It's chosen a new carrier.'
Her eyes fell on Lara, and Wheeler picked the child up, holding her close.
'Hi, Daddy,' the child said quietly.
'Hey, baby,' he replied, rubbing noses with her.
'What's that?' the girl lisped, and Wheeler gave her the ring.
He and Gi watched as Lara turned the ring over and over in her palm. It glowed blue, and she giggled.
Wheeler was amazed. Lara never laughed. Not like that.
'Well,' Gi said, giving Wheeler a smile. 'Looks like I came to right place.'
'Yeah,' Wheeler agreed. 'Looks like.'
'There are new wind and fire planeteers out there somewhere, you know,' Gi remarked.
'There's a boy in Lagos,' Wheeler said suddenly, 'who Kwame heard of. Apparently he caused a hurricane to appear out of nowhere. Kwame's tryin' to get him to the U.K.'
'Hmm,' Gi nodded. 'And fire?'
Wheeler cuddled Lara tighter. 'Get the feelin' I'm not gonna like him, wherever and whoever he is.'
Gi grinned at that, and Wheeler grinned back.
And a little of his anger floated away.
He's resting on the porch one evening when Linka comes home from work. She still takes his breath away, even now, and she sinks into his lap happily.
'Where are the children?' she asks him, running a hand through his hair.
'Playin',' Wheeler says. He nods to the sunset in the distance. 'You see that?'
Linka looks up, and smiles. 'Yes.'
There's a purple haze on the horizon, a purple which has everything to do with a certain Earth goddess, and nothing to do with the sun.
'She checks on us, every so often,' Wheeler comments.
'I know.'
'What do you think she sees?'
Linka kisses his forehead. 'Navsegda,' she murmurs, nodding to the carved sign above their door.
Wheeler nods at that. Navsegda, Colorado. Gaia knows what it means to them.
'Come on,' Linka suddenly sits up, pulling at his hand. 'We have half an hour, at least.'
Wheeler grins. 'I only need ten minutes.'
Linka laughs. 'I am going to check on the children, and then I will meet you upstairs. Show me what you can do in just ten minutes, Yankee.'
He nods, but doesn't join her straightaway. Instead, he nods towards the horizon, a nod of greeting and farewell all at once.
He isn't sure, but he almost thinks a flash of purple nods back.
And then Wheeler stands, and walks into his home.
No one ever bothers the Wheeler family.
Which is just the way he likes it.
