За разломом орла

           "Afterall,it’sgivenusthechancetocatchuponoldtimes,hasn’tit?" 

           "Greta?"Iasked,disbelievingly. 

           Shenodded."Formysins." 

           "MyGod.Itisyou,isn’tit?" 

           "Iwasn’tsureyou’drecognizeme. Especiallyafterallthistime." 

           "Youdidn’thavemuchtroublerecognizingme." 

           "Ididn’thaveto.Themomentyoupoppedoutwepickedupyourrecoverytransponder. Toldusthenameofyourship,whoownedher,whowasflyingit,whatyouwerecarrying,whereyouweresupposedtobeheaded. WhenIhearditwasyou,ImadesureIwaspartofthereceptionteam. Butdon’tworry.It’snotlikeyou’vechangedallthatmuch." 

           "Well,youhaven’teither,"Isaid. 

           Itwasn’tquitetrue. Butwhohonestlywantstohearthattheylookabouttenyearsolderthanthelasttimeyousawthem,eveniftheystilldon’tlookallthatbadwithit?Ithoughtabouthowshehadlookednaked,memoriesthatI’dkeptburiedforadecadespoolingintodaylight. Itshamedmethattheywerestillsovivid,asifsomefurtivepartofmysubconscioushadbeensecretlyhoardingthemthroughyearsofmarriageandfidelity. 

           Gretahalf-smiled. ItwasasifsheknewexactlywhatIwasthinking. 

           "Youwereneveragoodliar,Thom." 

           "Yeah.GuessIneedsomepractice." 

           Therewasanawkwardsilence. Neitherofusseemedtoknowwhattosaynext. Whilewehesitatedtheothersfloatedaroundus,sayingnothing. 

           "Well,"Isaid."Who’dhaveguessedwe’dendupmeetinglikethis?"