Time and Again

we're going to get anything done-anything else, that is-we'd better get out of the house."
    "Right."
    "After we eat."
    She was amazed she had the energy to laugh. "Naturally."
    It was late afternoon when they stood by Cal's ship again. Clouds had moved in from the north, bringing a chill. Libby told herself that was the reason she felt cold. She hugged the short jacket tighter, but the cold came from inside.
    "I'm standing here, looking at it, knowing it's real, but I still can't understand it."
    Cal nodded. His contented, relaxed mood had fled, and he wasn't entirely sure why. "I get the same sensation whenever I look at your cabin." There was a headache building behind his eyes, the kind he knew came from tension. "Look, I know you've got work of your own, and I don't want to hold you up, but would you mind waiting a few minutes while I check the cycle?"
    "No." She'd been hoping he'd ask her to stay all day. Masking her disappointment, she smiled at him.
    "Actually, I'd like to see it."
    "I'll be right back."
    He opened the hatch and disappeared inside.
    He would do that again soon, and for the last time, Libby thought. She had to be prepared for it.
    Strange, but she'd imagined he'd told her he loved her that morning. It was a nice, soothing thought, though she understood he didn't really. He couldn't. He cared for her, more than anyone had ever cared for her, but he hadn't fallen deeply, completely in love with her, as she had with him.
    Because she loved him, she was going to do everything she could to help him, starting with accepting limitations. It was a beautiful day, after the most beautiful night of her life. Smiling, really smiling, she looked up at the cloudy sky. The rain would come by evening, and it would be welcome.
    She glanced back at the ship when she heard a low, metallic hum. Another door opened-the cargo door, she assumed because of its size and location. Her mouth dropped open as Cal, on the back of a small, streamlined bike, raced out, six inches above the ground.
    It made a sound that was something like a purr, not catlike or motorlike, more like the sound of air parting. It was shaped something like a motorcycle, but without the bulk. There were two wheels for ground transportation, and a narrow, padded seat to accommodate riders. The body itself was a long, curving cylinder that forked into two slender handlebars.
    He drove-or flew-it over to her, then sat grinning on the seat like a ten-year-old showing off his first twelve-speed.
    "It runs great." He made some small movement with his hand on the handgrips that had the purr deepening. "Want a ride?"
    Frowning, she eyed the little gauges and buttons on the stock beneath the handlebars. It looked like a toy. "I don't know."
    "Come on, Libby." Wanting to share his pleasure, he held out a hand. "You'll like it. I won't let anything happen to you."
    She looked at him, and at the bike, hovering just above the pine needles that were strewn on the forest floor. It was a small machine-if indeed that was the proper term-but there was room enough for two on the narrow black seat. The body was painted a metallic blue that glistened with deeper shades in the sunlight. It looked harmless, she decided after a moment, and she doubted if anything so small could hold much power. With a shrug, she slid on the seat behind him.
    "Better hold on," he told her, mostly because he wanted to feel her body curve against his.
    The strength of the vibration beneath her shocked her, though she knew it was foolish. Cal had looked harmless, too, she remembered. "Hornblower, shouldn't we have helmets or-" The words whipped away as he accelerated.
    She might have screamed, but instead she squeezed her eyes shut and gripped Cal so tightly that he choked on a laugh. He could feel her heart beating against him, as fast and heavy as it had through the night. With an innate skill honed finer by practice, he steered once around the ship, then up the slope.
    Speed. He'd always been addicted to it. He felt the air slap his face, stream through his hair, and pressed for more. The sky beckoned, his first and most constant lover, but he resisted, aware that Libby would be more frightened than thrilled if he took her too high too quickly. Instead he breezed through the forest, winding around trees, skimming over rock and water. A bird burst off a branch just above their heads and went wheeling away, chattering bad-temperedly at the competition. He could feel her grip relax a