The TV showed a map, with blobs of color advancing and retreating. "After months of tensions, the West Kielberg crisis became war, and then disaster," a narrator intoned. "Within 6 hours, Westalis would achieve the decisive victory that eluded both sides in six years of the previous conflict. But the events that changed the world came at Eden Academy…" The map was replaced with somber images: The domed Imperial Hall collapsed in flames,; the dining hall, seemingly intact save that all the panes of its Palladian windows were shattered outward; a red-eyed man heaving the nose of a wrecked fighter plane aloft; a man in a Westalian uniform laying a single sheet over a large body that nearly covered a small one; and a dark-haired boy and a pink-haired girl walking hand in hand through the gaping space where the gates of Eden had stood.
"Turn that off," Loid Forger said to the restaurant owner. The proprietor shrugged and used a broom handle to turn off the overhead TV. Loid nodded in the direction of a man with several scars and another with a mustache sitting near the entrance. He sat with his adopted daughter and his wife of one year at a table where three others waited. One was Donovan Desmond. The other two were Yuri, now composed and smiling, and his wife Chloe. In her arms, Chloe held a squirming baby. Donovan only smiled when the infant began to cry.
"There should be the sound of children," the former leader said. "If they cry, it should be because they are fussing."
"Junior is just like his father," Chloe said with a smirk. "Excuse me, I think he needs a change."
"I appreciate you meeting with us," Loid said. "I am sure there is nothing personal…"
"Not at all," Donovan said. "You did the same thing our people would have. You are doing more good for us now than many of our own people. It is why we have allowed Westalian operatives to remain under their assumed identities, if they choose."
"We took our own losses," Loid said. "My best student was on the team sent to the Air Ministry hall. She meant more to me than I could understand, before I had Anya. I knew one of our agents had feelings for her. I found out after, that she had been hiding feelings for me…" He glanced briefly toward the mustached man. After a moment, he looked back at Donovan. "If I may be forward, is it true you are considering a return to leadership?"
"I am considering it," he said. "I would rather see Demetrius rise to the occasion, but he has made it clear that he would rather go a different path. Frankly, I think Melinda could do a better job than I could. She was always the one with the real instincts."
"We will be behind your family whatever you choose," Sylvia said. She managed a smile. "Not that we would interfere…"
"Neither would we," Yuri said. He smiled as Chloe returned, holding their soundly sleeping child.
"I am sorry, we are talking like you aren't here," Loid said. He turned to Anya and smiled. "Are you all right, Anya? We will go home if you don't want to do this."
"It's all right," Anya answered. She managed a smile. "I like it better when people don't worry about me."
Just then, the door opened. Three more came in, a man with a broad face and hair going to gray, a significantly younger woman, and a boy who already resembled his father enough to see where age would take him. "Gloomy!" Anya called out.
"Anya!" the boy answered. She rose and embraced him. "I'm so glad you came!"
"See?" Donovan said as the newcomers seated themselves. "Children are resilient. They are already learning to live with a new world. That is how the world goes on."
"Yes," Loid said, with a hint of reservation. "Children are more adaptable than we know. They still remember. Especially, they remember what it's like to be powerless. Sometimes, that is enough."
"So," the elder Glooman said, "we are looking at shifting the center of our operations to our branch in Obda. We may be moving as a family, as well. I have suggested to Doctor Forger that he join our staff."
"Yes," Loid said. "I am certainly considering the offer. It will depend on what Anya wants. And Sylvia, of course." He took his wife's hand.
"If I may be forward," Donovan said, "how did you meet?"
Sylvia smiled. "I was a military instructor," she said. "He was my best student. We, you could say, appreciated each other. But we couldn't think about more than that, of course. Even if it had been allowed, we weren't ready, after what we had already lost. After what happened to Yor, we decided enough had changed to give it a try." She squeezed Loid's hand.
"Papa," Anya said, "I'm glad you have Aunt Sylvia. I… I think I would like to go somewhere new."
While the grownups were paying their checks. Anya remained with George. "You know, I'm really glad we've gotten to know each other better," he said.
"So am I," Anya said. She leaned across the table to give a light embrace. "You saved my life, Gloomy. Every day since then, I owe to you."
"No," George said. "You were kind to me, when all I could think about was getting ahead or getting even. You showed me what really mattered. Everything I did was because of you. Not to pay you back, but so I could be the person you made me want to be."
"Oh, Gloomy, that's sweet," Anya said. She allowed George to embrace her in turn. Tears were in both their eyes. Anya looked up bashfully, to find Loid and Mr. Glooman looking on in approval.
"Well," Donovan said, "it seems the children will be happy to stay together."
Sylvia leaned down to look at Anya. "What would you say," she said, "to a sleepover?"
On the drive home, Aunt Sylvia said to Papa, neither loudly nor quietly, "I'd like for you to sleep in my bedroom tonight. The children can keep each other company."
"Of course," Papa said. He glanced at Anya in the rear view mirror. "You can watch a movie on the tape player if you want."
She rolled her eyes, and simultaneously smiled. "I read your mind, Papa," she said. "But thanks. I'll keep the TV turned up."
Later that night, Anya lay on the couch with George and Bond and Sylvia's dog Aaron, watching her favorite movie. It was an adventure about an old-timey sailor on a quest to rescue a princess from a wicked sorcerer. She stroked Bond's fur. From the direction of the hallway, she sensed the steady flow of emotions from Papa and Aunt Sylvia. She neither pried nor tuned them out, but let what happiness they found together bring peace to her own mind. She smiled when the tape came to her favorite scene was where the sailor fought an eight-armed statue that the villain brought to life. When the hero kissed the princess, she began to cry.
She hugged Bond, while George put his arms around her, already tearing up. "It's not fair," she whimpered. "Becky should be here. Why her and not me?"
"Oh, Anya, I would have died for Becky, or Bill, or Damian," he said. "But if I hadn't saved you, I wouldn't have been worth saving!" She frowned at that, but still held him tighter. They settled onto a pad on the floor, entangled with each other and the dogs. Anya reached out and scratched Bond between the ears.
"Oh, Bond," she whispered, "why didn't you see it?" The dog only gave a mournful worff.