One of those sex scenes (warning: no sex. I'm a wimp.)

At that point I had heard too many horrible things: the deaths of several Travellers, Harold’s motives, Ian’s impending death. I started crying, horrible sobs. Ian gathered me into his arms as he murmured in my ear: “My dear Kat, all we can do is be and find meaning in the moment.”

I hiccuped trying to stop the tears. I wondered what he meant.

“I want to stretch this moment into timelessness. With you,” Ian breathed.

That I understood. It was a Traveller phrase, “stretching time”. There were few ways that Travellers could escape time, and sex was one of them.

“Yes,” I barely managed to speak. “I would like that very much.”

He took my hand and led me to my bedroom, and I remembered that he had been tutored under Berkeley, so he would know the layout of the house. I struggled to determine what year that would be. Then he backed me against the wall and kissed me, and math didn’t seem so urgent.

When we backed off from each other, panting, we stared at each other. “Are you going to back off again? It’s okay if you — “

“No, I want this.” And I dropped to my knees before him and began to undo his pants.

“No,” Ian said, squatting before me. “Not like that.”

“That’s the only way I know how to do it,” I sniffed. “If you don’t want to …”

Ian put his arms around me. “You’re no longer the girl who lived on the street. You have a say in this. You have a right to joy. The only thing is,” he sighed, “I have no idea how to do this.”

“You’re a virgin,” I guessed.

“I haven’t had much time to date,” he shrugged. “But it puts me at a disadvantage. What would you like me to do?”

I thought of what my Johns never did, things I’d only read about. “I want us to take our time and kiss a lot. And touch a lot. I don’t want things to be over right away.

“Let’s see what we can do about that,” Ian smiled. “I have a good imagination…”

As he laid me on the floor and slid on top of me, I had to agree.