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"Of course I'm not scared of the fallout," I insisted at the end, "I'm more scared about the 200 million hand guns that people own, especially in the East. No! I'd rather take my chances landing on a highway in the remotest part of the wilderness."
I told her about the north end of Vancouver Island. This part of the world was apparently still free of fallout, but was crawling with over a hundred thousand people who became stranded there, waiting to be airlifted out. "We're their only hope," I said firmly; "we must go to them."
She stood up and reached for a towel. She looked rather sad now.
"Hold it! They won't need us until 2.00 AM!" I said. I tried to cheer her.
She began to smile again, and sat down deep into the warm water. Eventually she sat up and handed me the soap and a brush. "Would you wash my back, please?"
It felt wonderful being there, kneeling beside the bathtub, washing her back gently, her shoulders, legs, breasts.... The situation didn't seem at all strange or unnatural. It was peaceful. The disaster seemed so far away in this moment of intimacy that I tried to make last for as long as I could. Eventually she stood up and invited me to join her.
"Let's go to the bedroom," I broke the silence a long time thereafter.
She shook her head; "Maybe we shouldn't, I haven't any pills, I...."
I interrupted her, "I wish to God that we had enough of a future so that this mattered! How long will it be until someone hits the button in earnest and retaliates?"
I noticed tears in her eyes again. "Why did you have to say this? Couldn't you keep the illusions alive by which all those rescue flights have some meaning? There is always a reason for one to hope. There must be."
"And then what?"
She thought about it for a moment and began to laugh again; "OK, Paul, it still won't work. I have no pills, nor anything else. If we do come though this alive, and I know we will, we may have to survive under the most primitive conditions. Becoming pregnant in times like this might be fatal."
Now I began to laugh, too; "No, I don't want to invade you and get you pregnant. I want to appreciate you. There are better ways for doing that than getting you pregnant, don't you think?"
She looked at me astonished after I had stepped out of the tub. She let herself slide back into the hot water. She didn't even reply right away, but looked at me with a gentle exploring look.
Actually I was surprised myself, at the language I had used. How vulgar! I told her I was ashamed of it, but still couldn't think of a better way to say it.
"This means that you are totally serious," she came back.
I nodded slightly.
She shook her head slightly, but then handed me the towel again.
It was cool in the bedroom, refreshing, and comfortably peaceful in the dark atmosphere. One could see the shadows of the palm leaves projected on the far wall and the ceiling.
Eventually, and all too soon as it seemed, we dressed. I went outside onto the balcony, waiting for her there. I watched the gas-torches on the grounds. A breeze had come up. The giant fans of palm trees were swaying in the wind. The flames flickered. I wondered what we might have to face when we resumed our mission. Would we be able to return? Would we be able to stay together? Would we survive the next day, or would the nuclear fire spread further and destroy everything that is fragile, beautiful, and human?
When I looked up I noticed Jennie standing beside me. She smiled at me. She said she was ready now.
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