‘There’s one more I want to tell you about.’
‘Yeah?’
‘Lie back. This constellation is high in the sky.’
I do as he asks, lying there while my eyes adjust.
‘You’re looking for a square with a triangle above it,’ he says. ‘Like a child’s drawing of a house. You see it?’
At first I see nothing. And then pale stars emerge from the blue-black sky.
‘Do you see the one that forms the apex of the triangle – the roof?’ asks Ryan.
‘I see it.’
‘That’s our sun. That’s home.’
I can’t say anything. I fix my gaze on that one yellow star and think of all the people back there on Earth circling it. All the people we love. I think of Pegasus and Ben. Ryan’s mother and father, his brothers and friends. And before them, in a different time, Miranda and Connor and Megan. I think of all that empty space between us, all those burning stars scattering their light across the universe.
‘It’s ninety-three light years away,’ he says softly. ‘You know what that means.’
I do. The light we see now actually shone on the Earth ninety-three years ago, when Miranda and all my friends were still alive. I’m looking into the past and we are connected by this beam of silvery light.
‘I’ll be right back,’ Ryan says.
He gets up. I hear his footsteps crunching over the ground towards the ship.
Seeing our sun so many light years away makes me think about all we’ve been through. How we’ve stepped through time again and again. Together. We changed our Fate – if Fate is nothing more than the passage of time – and made the world a better place. On Ryan’s first trip through time, he and I prevented Connor from discovering this planet with its deadly parasite, and the destruction of Earth. On his second trip, he saved my life. When I jumped through time, I saved him from spending the rest of his life on the moon. We’ve both given up so much to be here. Me: my time. Ryan: his home.
Yes, we’ve given up a lot, but we’ve gained more.
Ryan sits back beside me on the ground, two glasses of champagne in his hands.
‘More champagne?’ I say. ‘We’ve been celebrating a lot since we got here.’
‘Every day we’re together is a reason to celebrate.’
‘Actually, I think I’ll just stick to water tonight,’ I say, sitting up. ‘I’m kind of dehydrated.’
‘That’s something we need to talk about,’ he says. ‘We’re down to our last six litres of water. We can’t stay in the desert any longer. It’s decision time.’
I’ve thought about staying here. I really have. The whole time Ryan and I have known each other, we’ve been told we can’t be together or we’ve been forced apart. Now we have a whole planet to ourselves. We could travel to the place where Ryan spent his childhood, in a wooded valley surrounded by pink mountains and four converging rivers, and build a treehouse. We could forage for food and tell stories around the fire at night. We could swing in hammocks and swim in warm seas and just be together. A little part of me wants to do just that.
But I’m too much of a pragmatist at heart. I’m much too used to indoor plumbing and buying my food at the shops to be comfortable spending eternity in paradise. Eden is beautiful, but it’s a wild, untamed planet. Ryan has told me stories of lizards the size of dogs and birds with wingspans the breadth of pterodactyls.
We have discussed the possibilities of course. We’ve imagined living here or back on Earth. Not present day Earth of course; that would be much too dangerous. But if we jumped well into the future or into the past, where no one knows us, we could start again. Neither of us has stated a preference. He looks happy – hopeful – but I have no idea what he’s hoping for.
‘So,’ he says. ‘Where do you want to live?’
‘What do you want to do?’ I ask.
‘I asked first,’ he says, smiling and shaking his head. ‘Tell me where you want to live.’
I take a deep breath. ‘I really like it here,’ I begin. ‘It’s the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen.’
‘OK.’ He’s holding my gaze, as though trying to read my thoughts.
‘But I think I’d like to go back to Earth.’
His eyes close and my fears are realised. ‘I do love it here,’ I say, trying to reassure him. ‘It’s just, you know, what if one of us got sick?’
His eyes flick back open and he smiles. ‘I was terrified you were going to want to stay here. I love a good metaphor as much as the next guy, but the thought of the two of us alone, like Adam and Eve in paradise for ever . . .’
‘It would be pretty intense,’ I say, relief flooding through me.
‘And it would leave our children in a sticky situation, genetically speaking.’
‘Our children?’ I say, raising my eyebrows.
He smirks. ‘How else would we pass the time? There’s no com-screen in paradise.’
To my amazement, I’m not blushing. ‘So it’s Earth,’ I say. ‘I know a little farmhouse by the sea.’
‘I’d like that. I never did get to finish decorating that place. And I know a loose floorboard with a whole wad of cash hidden underneath it.’
‘So the question is, when. In the past? Or in the future?’
‘You decide. Either choice is fine with me. But whatever we choose, we stick with it. I’m done jumping back and forth through time. Like I said, it messes with your head.’
I stand up and stretch. It’s such a big decision. And yet – and yet, no one knows what might lie ahead of them. I thrust my hands into my pockets and one of them bumps against something small and warm. And then I know exactly how I’m going to decide. I take out the lucky penny I found just before leaving 2012 and turn it between my fingers. ‘Heads is the future. Tails is the past,’ I say.
Ryan stands up next to me. ‘Are you serious?’
‘This seems as good a way as any to decide.’
He takes a deep breath and nods. ‘Let’s do it.’
He’s still holding my gaze, still waiting to see where fortune will take us, as I flip the copper coin into the air and leave our destiny to chance.