Skyle looked at the clock - six in the evening. She looked at the sky. The stars were rising. Tonight indeed was special. The millenium was upon the world. She only wished she had someone with which to share it. There was Merlin of course. But the little dog couldn't possibly understand.

The small wood table was laid with the best bowl and the best silver - a silver teapot which had been her great-grandmother's over 200 years before, a solid ceramic mug that had belonged to her father.

She straightened and looked around the room. Firewood was stacked and ready. A lantern was set in each corner window. Her mind wandered to thoughts of Lens. He'd been gone, now, over fifty years. They'd been married twenty years. His chosen profession of photography meshed with hers of composer. Then had come the offer of a lifetime, an invitation from the University for Lens to document a scientific expedition. Fifty years ago. She sighed, she couldn't think of such old sad thoughts now. Still, she wished he were here. He would love this cottage.

The people, her friends from East York City, thought she had been a bit mad to move outside and so far away from the Securities.

"Well , let them think anything they want, they never come to see us anyway!" Skyle said in a playful voice to Merlin. The flop-eared dog bounced to his feet and trotted to her. He plopped his backside down and looked up expectantly at her. She bent and ran her hand over his head and ears.

"Come along, then"

Together, they walked out into the yard. Skyle had chosen this spot four years before. In her ever more frequent wanderings outside the city's dome, she had come upon this wide curve of land that pushed out into the sea. On three sides, the sea and tides - the dense forest stood behind about a quarter mile which allowed an uninterrupted sweep of sky. She wrote commissioners and looked up land holding records and finally just made an offer of 3,000 pegs. A month later it was hers. From her modest savings, she built this three room cottage from the stone she found here and trees from the forest. A large living room and kitchen took up more than half the space. In the middle was an ample fireplace, with places to sit on the hearth. Behind this big room was a small sleeping room and a small bathing room. She wanted no more.

Skyle and Merlin walked to the low stone wall that divided the tidy yard from the beach. At the edge of a flower bed was a post that supported a metal box made from scrap. Skyle opened it now and amidst the jumble of trowels and watering nozzles fished out a set of four padded booties. Merlin sat patiently while she tied one on each of his paws. The beach below was made up largely of flint and these protected his feet from the sharp edges. At night she sometimes picked up a handful and threw it back down to watch the sparks scatter. It reminded her of the Darwinid meteor showers in the spring.

She paused before decending to the beach. Tonight would be special twice, the millenium, and a full moon. Soon it would begin to appear at the seeming edge of the black waves. For the moment, the stars were appearing against the darkening sky.

They were a small parade. The two of them, a short, strong but aging woman and her short, stout dog. During the day they took long walks, sometimes on a familiar route, sometimes exploring a new forest path. Her present companion was actually Merlin the fourth. His gene map was registered with Dogs United. Merlin the fourth was genetically identical to Merlin the first. For 75 years they had been a team.

As a girl, Skyle had held several different delivery jobs. On her first day of her first job she had been helped by an older girl named Raine. When the delivery cycle had broken down, Raine had shown her how to fix it. In turn Skyle had shown Raine her favorite hiking trails. During the Winter Holiday when Skyle was 23, Raine surprised her with a wiggly bundle wrapped in a hand woven scarf. It was a puppy.

Raine was apologetic, "I found him in amidst the unwanted. He had one day left and he was so cute. I know his ears flop and he has no tail and his legs are too short, but just look at those big brown eyes!"

It was true and Skyle loved little Merlin from that day on. He hopped his back feet like a rabbit when he ran and always came back when she called.

As the beach curved inland, she could begin to see the glow of East York City above the trees. She had lived there almost fifty years and before that in Newton where she'd been born 100 years ago. These cities had been carefully designed. They were enclosed under great broad domes. This made it easier for the Securities to regulate the basic life functions. The air temperature was maintained at a comfortable level year round. Day or night one could go walking in short sleeves. Both cities were thoroughly modern and moderated in all things. The electric tracks in the roads, street lights and electric outlets were powered by geo-thermal vents. The modest apartments had every comfort. The windows could be programmed for night and day scenes of any desired locale. Groceries and supplies could be ordered and delivered to a coded receiving port. Any violators of the Civil Order were sent far below ground to the ore mines. "Out of Sight-Out to Mine", the Securities protected the Cities in many ways.

D-films, information listings and research could be seen wherever one went with the visual implants. Music of any form could be heard privately without disturbing others by individually tailored aural implants. Skyle had earned 320 pegs a month composing this music. She had sat in a room the shape of a quarter moon in a large throne of a chair. Five screens curved around in front of her. With a keypad at either hand and pedals at her feet she alternately composed, accessed information, retrieved sounds and took care of household tasks as if she sat at an organ. Music filled her eyes and ears and filled the screens with rippling colors. When she was at work, there was no outside world. This was her sanctuary and she played until she wept. Off to the side, under the screens, Merlin usually slept on a rumpled collection of blankets. Every so often, he'd rouse himself, walk out for a few minutes, then return, paw and tug at the blankets and finally flop back down. Mostly, Skyle was unaware of him, but she always knew he was there. An alarm rang at five to make her stop work. She would sit still in the fresh silence for minutes before sending off her completions to Music World. Then she'd leave the semi-circle of her spent day to take Merlin for a walk.

It was sometime during these walks that she had felt the first pangs of lacking. The pathways were always spotless. The planting crews kept the flowers perpetually in bloom. The street lights came on at the same time every evening and went off exactly twelve hours later. Once seventy-five years ago a kind of obsession had grabbed the imagination of many. "The Pastoralists" they were called. Skyle's father had been among them. "Pigs and potatoes!" He had said, "You can't go wrong with 'em!" But he had only stayed obsessed with his Pastoralist ideals for five brief years. The reality had been too hard and he had returned to Newton and an analyst's job.

There had never been any law that said people had to live in the domed cities. It was just more comfortable for most people, and a lot easier. Outside the domes, the summers became so hot that a person's breath felt cool when exhaled. In the winter, a warm jacket, hat and gloves were needed. Sometimes it snowed.

Skyle looked down at Merlin padding along at her side.

"Let's head on back, my little wizard." At her voice, Merlin glanced up, then went back to scanning the path. They crossed a tracked road that passed a half mile from her cottage. It was well out of sight in a veil of trees. The track ran from East York to Newton, mostly for commerce, but private cabs used it too. Skyle had a small track cab herself, pulled off to the side in a shed near the track. She initially intended to use it for visiting friends in the city, but she found the visits increasingly depressing. Sal and Rem, once two of her closest friends didn't appear interested in her descriptions and photo scans of her gardens. They looked puzzled as she exultantly told of her small victories in finally locating seeds for flat topped cabbage, hanging sponge gourds and trombone squash. When she told of her methods for storing potatoes for winter, Sal remarked, "Sounds so cold!" and Rem, "Can't you just order a delivery?" Mostly, though, they carried on with their lives of designing new and better apartments, while Skyle and Merlin sat here or there or walked the perfect pathways outside.

On her last visit to Sal and Rem, she had happened by a small storefront near the Center. The sign identified it as Bot's Antiques, but most of the antiques were books. Real books, room after room of them stretching back and back. Skyle had only held five or six real books in her life and had marveled at them. They didn't need to be plugged in. If you closed them, the words were still there. When you read, you could reread a paragraph over and over and let the words work their way to memory. Skyle even owned one book, a gift from her father when he'd come back from his dream farm. It was very old - a guide book to the Sierra Nevada Mountains, a place she'd probably never see. She had never known where to go to find others. They were not cheap. Five pegs was the cheapest. She bought two at a cost of sixteen. She never saw Sal or Rem again, but had returned a dozen times to Bot's Antiques.

They were clear of the forest now. She could hear the small creek that fed her cottage and gardens, splashing by through the shadowed rocks. Ahead over the water, a bright curve had come into view - the moon. This sight no one, not even Lens, had thought to include in all the Window Vistas in all the home decorating catalogs. In the end, Skyle mused, it had been what she had come to think of as the call of the moon that had drawn her from the domed City and all the comforts the Securities provided. She had remembered the moon from visits to her fathers farmstead.

She and Merlin had been on this curved bit of land four years now and she felt in her soul that it was right. Two years ago she'd marched into the office of the Opti-Audiologist and asked that her visual and aural implants be removed.

He blinked at her and asked, "Aren't they working at a high enough level?"

"They are working all too well", she replied, "I want to experience the real world."

He blinked at her again from his dark, deepened eyes and she thought he'd had one implant too many. At last, he'd removed hers. She slept for two days and nights. When she finally woke, she went out feeling oddly light and quiet in her head. She had walked for hours up and down the beach, just listening to the sea.

Still, she maintained the yearly treatment of shots and infusions of the anti-aging enzymes and the anti-cancer viruses that kept most of the good folk here spritely until nearly 150. Who knows what would happen if I stopped now? She was a dreamer, but a practical one.

They were back at the last stretch of beach before the rock steps that led back up to the cottage. The moon, now completely risen, lit the whole beach with its stark reflected light. Skyle stood there for a long moment.

Skyle thought of the billions of lives that lay behind all the presently living people like a huge wake in a sea. Most were voiceless, their stories long faded and forgotten. She thought of the waves of plagues that had swept over the poor overcrowded Earth, the unthinking poisoning of lands and waters, the Great Germ War and brutalities beyond modern understanding inflicted on innocents. All their stories, most lost, some mere footnotes in history files.

She gave a kick at the broken flint on the beach. Sparks flashed and faded. But some of those brave people survived to bring us this far. The Securities were good in that they were programmed never to let those transgressions happen again.

Skyle sighed. Merlin sighed and lay down. She suddenly remembered the time. Plus it was cold.

"Oh silly me! Come on, let's go in!" She bent and took off Merlin's booties and returned them to the box. Merlin hopped to all fours in one motion. They both climbed the steps to the cottage.

There was much to do. It was nearly half past nine already. First, she filled, then lit each lantern. The room glowed in the golden light. She laid a fire and started it with a single match. In the kitchen, she set the large pot on the stove. Into it, she put water and the vegetables she had cut up the night before - carrots, onions, celery, tark, and, of course, potatoes - all from the cellar. Yes, she found this life satisfying, growing her own food, gathering her own wood. She was responsible for her own life.

No doubt her friends in the city were gathering in the Center at this very hour for the heavily advertised "Party of the year, decade, century and more!!". She had seen the decorations on her last foray to Bot's Antiques. That time she had bought not a book, but a kind of flute. It was wood, and to play it one held it to the mouth, holding it with both hands in front. Fingers covered and uncovered the drilled holes to change notes. Very intriguing and different from a keyboard

"It's an ancient design. The most purely simple of musical devices", Bot had told her. There were no instructions, only his vague description. She'd bought it anyway - a mere 2 pegs. It now lay on the fireplace mantel with her growing collection of books. She walked over, picked it up and blew into it. TWEET! Hmm, maybe she could research it. She glanced toward her small terminal. She kept one so she could stay abreast of the news, weather, and do research on any new thought or interest. Since she had lived here, she had resolutely used it only once a day, usually after dinner. Never again would she let it take over her life.

A light was blinking near the bottom rim of the terminal. She had a message. She rarely got incoming mail and was strongly tempted to listen to it right then. But no, after dinner, after midnight. The millennium, imagine. Merlin and I are living the Moment.

She returned the flute to it's place on the mantel. Remembering the stew, she hurried to move the pot from the fire. The aroma of the tark leaf was filling the room. Her stomach growled. Merlin was firmly ensconced by the stove.

"Skyle, Skyle, are you there?" The suddenness of a human voice made her stop still. It was outside at a bit of a distance - a woman's voice. Skyle hurried to the door. In the moonlight, she saw Raine, good old Raine, nearly staggering to her porch over the uneven ground. She was holding a large bottle of wine. Raine had only been to visit once before while Skyle was still in the building stage.

"Oh, Raine, oh! Come in, it must be so cold for you here! How did you get here?"

"I punched in your location on my rented track cab. When it stopped in the middle of that creepy forest, I could see your lights through the trees..." Raine paused for breath. Then she smiled at Skyle and gave her a warm hug. " I just couldn't see you spending tonight of all nights by yourself. It smells wonderful in here!"

"I'm not completely alone, I've got Merlin." Merlin was crossing the room to Raine. He leaned against her leg and pawed the air next to his face with a front paw.

Raine bent down and ruffled his ears. "Of course! How could I forget such a funny little guy!"

Skyle pulled up a padded wooden chair near to the fireplace. "Please, sit down by the fire. Dinner will be ready in a few minutes."

Raine sat a moment and then got up again. She walked around the edge of the room, feeling the stone walls, examining the windows.

"Um, they don't...?" She pointed to a window.

"No", said Skyle, "When, I look out there, I see the ocean. Look at the moon! We're lucky to have a full moon on such a night!"

"It's very bright, but beautiful. Yes, this suits you, I can see why you moved." Then Raine paused, seemingly staring into space. Skyle knew she was reading some message from a visual implant.

"There's a storm due in day after tomorrow, but it shouldn't be too bad." Raine said suddenly, then, "You know, you have a message?" She pointed at the blinking light.

"Yes, but I only use the terminal once a day and it's not time yet, it's a rule."

"But--" Raine looked agitated.

"Oh, OK, push the button, let's hear it." Skyle laughed as she said it.

"It's seems funny, you used to be so..."

"Obsessed." Skyle put in.

"Well, that wasn't the word I'd have used, maybe up-to-date, current." Raine gave her a pat on the back, then walked to the terminal and pushed the button.

There was an unusual hissing sound. Skyle put down the spoon and moved next to Raine. Then a voice rang out, cheerful, but sounding as if it were at the end of a very long tunnel.

"Hello Skyle and quite possibly Merlin! Greetings from Earth!"

Skyle put a hand to her mouth to stifle a cry of joy.

It was Lens, after all this time.

"I hope you can hear this, so here goes. According to my calculations, it will be millenium night back home, and I wanted to say Happy New Year! We came out of stasis and landed here a week ago. All are safe and sound and no equipment was damaged. We traveled north a ways, doing soil testing and air analysis. I made them stop and camp right here. I have to take more photographs. From where I sit right now I can look up at what I'm pretty sure are the Sierra Nevada Mountains. I know how you wished you could see them because of the descriptions in your old guide book. Behind us is a long lake and lots of interesting birds. Tomorrow, I am leading a small group up into the mountains to see what we can see. One of the local people said he'd take us up. The people here are kind and friendly. They seem to know little of our technology and are very curious. They speak an odd version of our language, sometimes it's hard to understand, but we manage, along with a lot of hand gestures. I will photograph them too. Well, I have to go. The batteries are blinking. The sun will recharge them soon and I'll send you another message. And I'll send photo scans too. I'm sorry, I know it's been so long for you - fifty-two years by the ship chronometer. Oh, my dear Skyle, if you get this, please answer. I haven't forgotten you. Love you, happy new year. This is Lens Lonsson, signing off."

Another long hiss, then silence. Raine put an arm around Skyle who dug in a pocket for a handkerchief.

"Well, I'm glad he hasn't forgotten me!" Skyle nearly whispered, "But he must be so young, what forty-six or seven? I'll send him a message tomorrow, when I've gathered my thoughts."

She turned back toward the kitchen. "Let's eat!"

She set a second place at the table and served the stew. On a wooden board, she laid out thick sliced bread.

Raine and Skyle ate and talked of old times, and times to come, hikes to take. Raine described some films she'd seen. Skyle described the stars, the waves and her gardens. Merlin lay underneath the table munching disconsolately at his dry dog food, hoping, no doubt for a real tidbit.

"Oh, look!" Raine pointed at the clock, "Twelve, straight up!"

"Happy New Year!!" They rose and hugged. Merlin barked. Through the window could be seen and heard the extravagant fireworks of East York City and Newton hurling upwards and exploding with dull delayed thuds into dazzling showers of light. Raine uncorked the wine and filled two mugs.

"Happy New Millenium!" shouted Skyle and rushed to the terminal desk. With a flourish she flipped the calendar from the final month of 999 to the first of 1000.