His strength began to return. He felt his heart beating so slow that it was amazing. One hundred beats a minute. Impossible. He felt so cool, so thoughtful, so easy.
His head fell over to one side. He stared at Lyte. He shouted in surprise.
She was young and fair.
She was looking at him, too weak to say anything. Her eyes were like tiny silver medals, her throat curved like the arm of a child. Her hair was blue fire eating at her scalp, fed by the slender life of her body.
Four days had passed and still she was young ... no, younger than when they had entered the ship. She was still adolescent.
He could not believe it.
Her first words were, "How long will this last?"
He replied, carefully. "I don't know."
"We are still young."