The End of All Songs

"It is beautiful," said the Iron Orchid. "May I keep it, when you have gone?"

"Let it be my monument," she said.

They all began to hum the tune of the waltz; Lord Jagged even danced a few jaunty steps as he finished his ice-cream, tilting his topper over one eye, and everyone laughed. They stopped when they came close to the pier. They leaned on the railings, staring out across the glistening water. Jherek put his arm about her shoulders; Lord Jagged embraced his own wife, and the distant band played on.

"Perhaps," said Jherek romantically, "we shall be able to make something like this in the Palaeozoic — not immediately of course, but when we have a larger family to build it."

She smiled. "It would be pleasant to dream about, at least."

The Iron Orchid sighed. "Your imagination will be a great loss to us at the End of Time, Amelia. But your inspiration will remain with us, at least."

"You flatter me too much."

"I think she is right," said Lord Jagged of Canaria, producing a pale yellow cigarette. "Would you mind, Amelia?"

"Of course not."

Lord Jagged began to smoke, looking upward at the infinite blackness of the sky, his features once again controlled and expressionless, the tip of his cigarette a tiny glowing ember in the gathering twilight. The sun, which he and the cities had created, burned deepest crimson on the horizon and then was gone, leaving only a smear of dusky orange behind it; then that, too, faded.

"So you'll leave tomorrow," said Jagged.

"If it is possible."

"Certainly. And you have no fears? You are content with your decision?"

"We are content." Jherek spoke for them both, to reassure her.

"I was truly divorced from Harold," she said, "when he refused to let me return with him. And, after you have married us, Lord Jagged, I do not think I shall feel even a hint of guilt about any of my decisions."

"Good. And now…" Lord Jagged drew his wife from the rail, escorting her along the promenade, leaving the lovers alone.

"It is growing a little chilly," she said.

Jherek produced a cloak for her, of gold-trimmed ermine, and placed it around her shoulders. "Will this do?"

"It is a trifle ostentatious." She stroked the fur. "But since this is our last night at the End of Time, I think I can allow myself the luxury."

He bent to kiss her. Gently, she took his face in her hands. "There will he so much, Jherek, that we shall have to learn together. Much that I will have to teach you. But do not ever, my dear, lose that joyous spirit. It will be a wonderful example to our children, and their children, too."