Don stopped walking, and Lenore stopped, too. He let go of her hand and looked into her eyes. "I want to tell you something," he said, "but I need you to promise to keep it a secret."

"Of course," she said.

He nodded. He trusted her completely. "Sarah decrypted the message."

Lenore’s eyes narrowed. "That can’t be," she said. "I’d have heard…"

"It was private message."

She looked at him, brow knitted.

"I’m serious," he said. "It was private, for the person whose survey answers the Dracons found most to their liking."

"And that was Sarah?"

"That was my Sarah, yes."

"So what did the message say?"

Two students were running toward them, obviously late for class. Don waited until they passed. "They sent their genome, and the instructions for all the supporting hardware needed to create two Dracon children."

"My… God. Are you serious?"

"Absolutely. Cody McGavin is involved in the project. And so am I. I’m going to be the…" He paused, even now still somewhat amazed at the notion. "…the foster father. But I’ll need help raising the Dracon children."

She looked at him blankly.

"And, well, I want you back in my life. I want you in the children’s lives."

"Me?"

"Yes, you."

She looked stunned. "I, um, I mean, you and me — that’s one thing, and I…"

Don’s heart was pounding. "Yes?"

She smiled that radiant smile of hers. "And I have missed you so. But… but this stuff about raising — my God, the very idea! — about raising Dracon children. I — I’m hardly qualified for that."

"No one is. But you’re a SETI researcher; that’s as good a background as any to start with."

"But I’m years away from finishing my Ph.D."

"Have you picked a thesis topic?" he said. "’Cause I’ve got a doozy…"

She looked stunned, but then she frowned. "But I’m down here, in New Zealand.

Presumably you’re planning to do this in North America."

"Don’t worry about that. When we go public with this — and we will, just as soon as the children are born — every university on the planet will want a piece of it. I’m sure arrangements can easily be made with the administration here so that your degree won’t be jeopardized."

"I don’t know what to say. I mean, this is — it’s almost too much to take in."

"Tell me about it," said Don.

"Dracon children," she said again, shaking her head. "It would be an amazing experience, but there are tenured profs who—"

"This isn’t about credentials; it’s about character. The aliens didn’t ask the survey respondents to rank themselves socioeconomically or to indicate how much education they had. They asked about their morals, their ethics."

"But I never took the survey," she said.

"No, but I did. And I’m a pretty darn good judge of character myself. So what do you say?"

"I’m— overwhelmed."

"And intrigued?"

"God, yes. But talk about bringing baggage into a relationship! You’ve got kids, grandkids — and you’re going to have… um…"

"Sarah called them ‘Draclings.’ "

"Awww! So cute! Still, kids, grandkids, and Draclings…"

"And the robot — don’t forget I’ve got a robot."

She shook her head, but was smiling as she did so. "What a family!"

He smiled back at her. "Hey, this is the Fifties. Get with the times."

She nodded. "Oh, I’m sure it’ll be great. But it’s not — you know — not complete. The family, I mean. I’ll want to have a child or two of my own."

"Oooh! More presents on Father’s Day!"

"If you’re the father…" She looked at him. "Is that… is that something you’re interested in doing?"

"I think so, yes. If the right woman comes along…"

She whapped him on the arm.

"Seriously," he said, "I’d be thrilled. Besides, the Draclings will need playmates."

She smiled, but then her eyes went wide. "But our kids will be — my God, they’ll be younger than your grandkids…" She shook her head. "I don’t think I’ll ever get used to all this."

Don took her hand. "Of course you will, darling. Just give it time."

Epilogue

OCTOBER 2067

"Come on, everyone! Let’s go!"

Don had pulled the big van up to the edge of the large concrete plaza in front of the docks. Hundreds of tourists were milling about, either waiting to get on one of the high-speed ferries, or, like Don’s family, having just gotten off one. The plaza was ringed by vendors selling T-shirts, hot dogs, and more. Lenore was standing near the barrier that prevented Don from bringing the van any closer. "You heard your father!" she called. "We want to get there while the sun’s still up."