With our side of the river predator free, we head back so I can log everything on the computer. Jinx has to hook up to the mainframe to charge his battery. Sometimes, while he charges, I type the notes of the day into a log file. Gives me something to do when things are quiet.

Back at the cabin, I climb the stairs, kicking my boots against the doorframe to knock off the crusty snow. I push inside. The flames crackle in the fireplace, warming the interior to a comfortable temperature. I hang my parka on a hook next to Eve's jacket, then sit on a stump that I fashioned into a chair. Next, I remove my boots and lean back with a sigh. The chair is crude, the top half cut off to form a seat and a back. It was the quickest way to make our first furniture. For the living area, I laid a log on its side, and with the same idea in mind, cut it out to make a couch. We fashioned cushions from the ship's crash-chairs to sit on. It'll do for now. Might do for a while.

I hear Eve in the tub. Before we left the habitat, I pulled it from our bathroom at her request. But I benefit from it, too.

With no door, I lean against the frame and peer inside the bathroom. Water glistens on Eve's arms and neckline as she relaxes in a hot bath with her hair put up in a bun. Her belly rises from the water, among other parts of her body, producing a sudden heat inside me. I swallow and focus on her hazel eyes.

"It's a lot hotter in here than it was outside." I grin like a fox. "Makes me wanna throw another log on."

She glances in my direction, her chin angling toward me. "The fireplace works to perfection."

"I wasn't talking about the fire."

She smiles. "Oh. Well, maybe later."

"I think I read somewhere that it helps hasten childbirth."

"In that case, maybe we'll hold off." She pulls the plug and the water gurgles down the drain into a filtration system where it's purified and reused. We can only pump so much water at once. If we keep the line full, it'll freeze.

While she rises in the tub, I hold a towel in front of her, frowning at the prospects of having my afternoon delight postponed or canceled till further notice. When she's dry and covered—her swelled belly visible beneath the white cotton—I offer her a hand to step down to the floor. In the future, I'll have to build doors for all the rooms for privacy's sake.

As Eve dresses in our bedroom, I sit at the desk crafted from panels taken from the ship. Just sides and a tabletop screwed together. The computer is the same touchscreen from the habitat. I found a wireless keyboard in a crate and connected it. On the screen, I pull up the word processor and access the file for the daily log, a digital journal. I've been adding to it since we arrived, first in the cave, and then in the cabin once we completed it.

This would be a good time for coffee, but we don't have any. I settle for herbal tea from the water Eve had heated over the fire in the hearth. As she enters the living area, dressed in one of my t-shirts and a pair of flexible pants, I pour a mug of tea and return to the desk. The warmth of the orange-spice heats my insides.

As I type away, documenting what we did today, Eve leans back on the couch. She looks uncomfortable. I make a mental note to build better furniture in the future.

A light from the kitchen illuminates the open floor plan with a gentle glow.

"How are you feeling?" I ask.

Her eyes flash wide with a spark of spunkiness. "Better after the bath, but still big enough to pop." She flicks her fingers apart, imitating a tiny explosion.

"The time will come soon enough." I save the daily log and close the file. "Anything I can do. Rub your feet, your neck?"

"Maybe later. Now, I'd rather you fix dinner."

"I'm on it."

I pop up from the chair and enter the tiny kitchen, which is nothing more than a spruce counter sitting atop a cabinet yanked from the ship. We have cups, mugs, and plates from the habitat. I intend to craft a wood-burning stove from the ship's steel. When I get through with that thing, it'll look like a skeleton framed against the mountainside.

Our latest brood of chickens hasn't reached maturity yet, so I heat corn and diced potatoes on the grill over the fireplace flames. It doesn't take long to stir-fry the conglomeration in a pan. As I finish it up, I remember a condiment that I used to put on fried potatoes... ketchup. But we're fresh out and the last grocery store got washed away a millennium ago.

After we eat, I kneel before Eve and hold true to my offer to rub her feet. She groans as I dig my thumbs into the arch of her foot.

"Have I ever told you what a good man you are?" Eve closes her eyes and tilts her head back on the couch as I switch feet.

"Can't say that you have." I give her other foot equal attention. She exhales, air streaming out in a slow hiss. After I'm finished, I rise and stretch out over her, leaning on the couch for support. When she opens her eyes, my lips are inches above hers. "Just how good am I?"

Our lips meet.

"Very." She smiles warmly.

I'm about to dive back in when Jinx interrupts me. "You have an encrypted message sent via a satellite link."

"Not now, Jinx," I say.

"Who's it from?" Eve asks.

Air slithers from my wrinkled lips like a rocket failing to achieve liftoff.

"I can't tell from the encryption," Jinx says. "If I try to open it, it might corrupt the message. It's asking for a retinal scan."

"From who?" I join Jinx at the desk, where he's connected to the power station to charge.

"You."

As I sit in front of the screen, Eve walks over and stands behind me, her hands on my shoulders.

The encrypted message looks like a small envelope. I touch it and a blue light scans my face, reading my eyes, I suppose. When the message opens, a text appears in a window box that says: Hello, Noah and Eve. Are you open to a conversation about your future? There's a dash mark below the words that identify the sender—someone named Jude.

I glance at Eve.

"Who is Jude?" she says.

"Don't have a clue."

A long moment passes as we try to decide. But before we have a chance, an additional message appears below the first.

I take that as a yes. Wait for my next message. We have so much to talk about.