I was working, up till the last minute, because it was the easiest thing to do. With Reagan and Michaelina helping me, I was making out material lists for our new construction projects. First, a three-story building of about forty rooms for a headquarters building.
We were working fast, because it would be midperiod shortly, and you can’t do paper work when you can’t read and can write only by feel.
But my mind was on the Ark. I picked up the phone and called the radiotype shack to ask about it.
“Just got a call from them,” said the operator. “They’ve warped in, but not close enough to land before midperiod. They’ll land right after.”
“O.K., ” I said, abandoning the hope that they’d be a day late.
I got up and walked to the window. We were nearing midposition, all right. Up in the sky to the north I could see Placet coming toward us.
“Mike,” I said. “Come here.”
She joined me at the window and we stood there, watching. My arm was around her. I don’t remember putting it there, but I didn’t take it away, and she didn’t move.
Behind us, Reagan cleared his throat. He said, “I’ll give this much of the list to the operator. He can get it on the ether right after midperiod.” He went out and shut the door behind him.
Michaelina seemed to move a little closer. We were both looking out the window at Placet rushing toward us. She said, “Beautiful, isn’t it, Phil?”