David Zindell: Black Jade

'No,' she told me. 'I must give it to you.'

And with that, she fairly danced across the meadow. Without the slightest hesitation or fumbling, she reached straight down to pick this one, bright flower. She came back over to me, and wrapped my fingers around it.

'This is my troth to you,' she told me.

Then she reached out with a perfect accuracy to wipe the tears running down my face.

'We have so little time,' she said to me. 'It is so peaceful here. Let's He together while we can. I want to feel your heart beating next to mine.'

We returned to our blankets, and threw our cloaks over our thinly clad bodies to cover us. As I held her close to me, I felt her breath upon my face. I knew that she was willing to give herself to me, utterly, as I was with her. But i knew, as well, that this glorious union must wait. I felt no bitterness in this, only an immense anticipation. She pulled me into the warmth of her breasts and her belly, and I could not tell that we were two separate beings, for our hearts beat as one.

Thus we lay for hours on that bright, perfect afternoon, and the whole world seemed to stand perfectly still. At last, however, the earth carried us into the future, as it always did. It grew cold and dark, and the stars came out like millions of tiny white flowers. For a long time, we soared among them. I listened for the voices of those who dwelled there. I did not know if the dead would ever speak to me again. The living, though, and the infinitude of beings waiting to be born, sang out only the most brilliant of songs. Atara and I sang with them, and so did our son, and our voices, like the exultations of angels, filled the night with a fiery and inextinguishable joy.