Temporarily but indefinitely.

“We don’t know how long we’ll be here,” corrects Otto. “It may be for quite a while.”

Remedios groans. Suffering Samaria, she certainly hopes not.

“Oh, I don’t know…” Otto gazes into the distance to the tree-lined main street with its raised sidewalk and attractive storefronts, the windows gleaming, the awnings folded up for the night. The dog is just disappearing around the Methodist church. “It doesn’t seem so bad,” he says. He brushes something from the sleeve of his jacket. “It looks rather pleasant, if you ask me.” A real, old-fashioned town.

Remedios rolls her eyes. “Well, I didn’t ask you,” she snaps. “And if you ask me, what it looks like is a very long day in the desert.” Probably buried up to your neck.

“No, it doesn’t. It’s peaceful and it’s attractive.” As sunlight falls over Otto, he almost seems to glow. “Far from the cares and tears of the world…”

“Spare me.” Remedios is still snapping. “You sound like a psalm.”

“And you sound like a doubter.” Which is something she’s going to have to get over. Challenging situations demand a positive attitude, and the current situation – he and she working together – is nothing if not a challenge. Otto gestures to the thickly forested slopes that loom up around them. “What about those mountains, Remedios? And those trees! They’re glorious.” He takes a deep breath. “Just smell that air.” He smiles and the morning brightens perceptibly. Locationwise, this is the best assignment he’s had in centuries. “You know, I do believe I’m going to like it here. I believe I’m going to like it very much.”

Remedios scowls and the sky dims. “Well, I’m not.” She isn’t that interested in trees and mountains, or even in peace. She’d much rather be on the Titanic. With plenty to do. “What are we supposed to accomplish here?” Her gesture doesn’t take in the inspiring landscape, just the pristine, well-ordered road on which they stand. “They don’t even have litter.”