It was as if destiny had walked beside him, guiding.
Destiny, or ... other minds. Alien minds, perhaps greater than his.
But whatever the answer, he'd kept on, and he'd found her. That was what counted.
Now, while he watched, new radiance suffused the chamber. The light-cones dimmed; and as they faded, the spheres floated slowly, gently, to the floor.
Then, as on that other, dream-like day that seemed so long ago, there was a crash of silent thunder. The globes split, fell apart.
Boone dropped to one knee. With trembling fingers he touched Eileen's bare breast.
Her flesh was warm, her heartbeat steady. Like a child awakening, her lashes fluttered. Then, lids already lifting, she turned and looked up at him with calm, untroubled eyes.
A sob rose in Boone's throat. He pressed her to him.
She laughed, ever so softly; and tenderness was in it. Cool fingers smoothed his brow, his hair. "Fred, you sound so—worried...."
His words came in a jumble, then: "You—you're all right? There's—nothing's happened?"