Desert Planet 2.

Jed tapped the view screen twice, and sighed. "Damn hydrogauges," he muttered, "they always lock up when I'm about to go home."

He opened the door of the crawler and stepped out into the fading second-sunset, his boot sinking into the loose sand close to the treads. He blinked against the wind, realizing he'd forgotten his goggles in the cabin. Smacking the side of the bed, the coils leading to the tank shifted slightly and began to emit a faint hum, barely audible over the wind in his ears. Satisfied, he turned to go. Off in the distance, a sanctuary dome sank below the horizon line, and he saw a lone star flash briefly then fade. He absentmindedly scratched the scar on his neck that stretched from below his left ear and disappeared down into the darkness of his collar attachments.

"Still," he whispered quietly, "I suppose there's worse things to worry about." Climbing into the cab, he sat and waited for third-sunrise.

Victorian 1.

"M'lud," said the gentleman, "it is not often that one finds himself in the presence of such a fine and honorable personage as yourself."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that," replied the judge, "I find myself in such a presence every time I look in the mirror." And the court laughed at his wit and gaiety. Oh my, how they laughed.

Then they all perished of cholera.

Desert Planet 1.

"The stars are out tonight."

She looked at his face as she said it, searching for a flicker of recognition or acknowledgment, but, getting none, returned her gaze heavenward. The slight phosphorescent pinpricks fascinated her, something very rare these days, since last year anyway.

Her hair blew slightly in the dry breeze, and she closed her hand over his, hoping for an answering squeeze, but again, there was no response. "Oh, Michael," she whispered, "what are you doing in there?"

A brief kiss on his scarred left temple, and she retreated back down into the sanctuary.