“The future always was,” he answered from his three thousand years.
“What is coming, more strange than ever before.” She raised her eyes. Stars gleamed through the moon-glow, golden-red Arcturus, blue-white Altair, Polaris of the sailors, Vega where lately men had found spoor of planets. “In Odysseus, Hamlet, Anna Karenina, we still see ourselves. But tomorrow, will they know those people, or us? Can we understand them, our children?”
She caught his left arm. He laid his right hand across hers, for whatever comfort that might give in the night.
They had talked of this already, a little. Once, while they rested for a day on their long journey from the east, she had guided him in trying to imagine what might happen…