"We just got here," Maxwell said mildly. "Stick around."
She stood up. "Are you coming?"
"Nope," said Maxwell.
Without another word she turned, walked stiffly to her scooter, got in and soared away. They watched the tiny shining speck dwindle and disappear over the horizon.
Maxwell grinned and looked at the Beachcomber. "She had that coming," he said. "Not that she's out anything—she's got her return ticket." He put a hand behind him to hoist himself to his feet. "I'll be going now, Dai. Nice to have—"
"No, stay a while, Vern," said the giant. "I don't often see people." He looked moodily off across the water. "I didn't spoil anything special for you, I hope?"
"Nothing special," Maxwell said. "Only my current light o' love." The giant turned and stared at him, half-frowning.
"What the hell!" said Maxwell disgustedly. "There are plenty of other pebbles on the beach."
"Don't say that!" The Beachcomber's face contorted in a blaze of fury. He made a chopping motion with his forearm. Violent as it was, the motion came nowhere near Maxwell. Something else, something that felt like the pure essence of wrath, struck him and bowled him over, knocking the breath from him.
He sat up, a yard away from the giant, eyes popping foolishly. "Whuhh—" he said.