And, he realized, during the intervals in which I am conscious, when it's necessary to recorrect the trajectory of the Omphalos, I could have someone with me for company. Someone I like — and know I would like increasingly better as time goes on... goes its regular path, undisturbed. This, he realized, is the genuine solution. Finally. This — and not the UN's time-warping device or any device at all.
Thinking that, he paused before entering the area of light; in the darkness of the side street, unnoticed by passers-by, he scrutinized Freya Holm a long, long period.
"Hmm," he said, half aloud. Contemplatively.
"What are you thinking about?" Freya asked shyly, her dark, full lashes trembling as she returned his stare. "The years of deep sleep ahead of you?"
"Not quite that," Rachmael answered. "Something a little more this side of sleep. But connected with it." He put his arm around her.
"Gee," Freya said after a time.
In his pocket the container of components hummed happily.