“It’s a possibility,” replied Jack, “but only that. I say we give it another half hour, then abort and go away for a rethink. Briggs will have something to say about the overtime as it is.”

Everyone radioed in agreement, and all was quiet again.

“Gretel?” said Baker in the potting shed.

“What?” replied Gretel, who was thinking about tall babies.

“You’re a woman.”

“I know this.”

“Yes, well…” he said a bit awkwardly, “I just thought… do you think Pippa would go out on a date if I asked her?”

“You mean beautiful Pippa in the control room? No.”

“What do you mean, ‘No’?”

“I mean ‘No’ as in ‘No, I don’t think she’d go out with you.’"

“You might have paused for thought or something,” said Baker in an affronted tone, “or been ambiguous—to save my feelings, y’know.”

“Sorry. You ask a question and I answer it,” replied Gretel, who had a reputation for directness that sometimes didn’t sit well with higher authority. “I’ll tell you why. Remember that time you sneezed on her?”

“It wasn’t just her.”

“I know. It’s just that girls don’t really like that sort of thing.”

Baker nodded slowly. He’d suspected for a while that they might not. Still, he never thought it really fair to have a girlfriend, since he had only six months to live. The thing was, he’d had only six months to live for over thirteen years now.

“Hmm,” said Charlie, half to himself, “I think I need a doctor who’ll give me a year to live.”

“Do you like it here?” asked Jack to Ashley. They were leaning on the car but still keeping a close lookout on the front of the house.

“Here, in this street?”

“No, Ashley, this planet.”