He nodded. “I know."

What she meant was that he didn't like tagging along to someone else's meeting with no role of his own to play. And she was right.

"I think it was the ‘and spouse’ that did it,” she said.

"I think you're right."

A list of attendees had been waiting for them in their room when they'd arrived. “Julene Oliver,” the sixth entry had read, “Supervising Park Ranger (GS-13), Olympic National Park, Washington. And spouse."

When he'd seen that, he'd had terrifying visions of the “spouses’ programs” awaiting him. “My God,” he'd said, “I can see it now. ‘Morning bus tour to Kumquat Village, where you will be greeted by lifelike Indians and served a traditional Indian lunch of mud-broiled salmon cakes, to be followed by a program of authentic Indian war dances. In the afternoon, a leisurely visit to nearby Totem Shopping Mall.’”

"I wouldn't worry about it,” she'd said. The closest mall's in Juneau."

"I'm glad to hear it. I must be lucky. Come to think of it, I guess there won't be any bus tours either."

There wouldn't be any bus tours because there weren't any roads; none besides the dirt strip between the lodge and the little airport at Gustavus ten miles away. The only way in or out of Glacier Bay was by boat from the coast, or by airplane-one scheduled flight a day in, one out; a tree-skimming, thirty-minute hop between Juneau and Gustavus.

That had all been this morning. By the end of the week, he now feared, he'd be more than ready for a visit to Kumquat Village. Maybe by tomorrow.

The harried-looking man on Julie's other side detached himself from the general conversation and leaned across to them.

"You're talking about spousal activities?” he asked Gideon. “You're not finding enough to do?” The possibility seemed to cause him real concern. “It's a shame you're the only spouse here. If we had a few more I'd have arranged something interesting. Maybe,” he said, his eyes brightening, “I could-"