The wind picked up, that wind that had saved so many lives, bringing to Leo the same spicy scent of fruit and leaves as when he arrived. Weird to have no seasons. No seasons, no other continents, no other languages, so many restrictions on having kids and not having normal tech and not making too much money. Weird to give away a big chunk of what you did have, every illathil. And still pay taxes. Weird to live by bu^ka^tel, which Leo still didn’t really understand. Weird and unnatural and—
Isabelle came across the starlit field toward him.
He knew it was her long before he could make out her face. He knew by her gait, by the way she held her head, by her Isabelleness. His heart began a slow, steady thud like a dance beat, or a dirge.
“I greet you, Leo,” she said in Kindese.
“I greet you, Isabelle,” he said in the same language.
Then, for what seemed a very long time, neither spoke. Finally Leo could stand it no longer. His lips felt dry, but he got out one word. “Austin?”
“He’s staying here.”
“Poor kid.” Leo meant it.
“You understand, don’t you, his dilemma. Either choice, he loses something.”
“Well, that’s always how it goes, isn’t it?”
For answer, she moved into his arms. Her lips were soft and full and sweeter than anything had ever been before in his life. But after one long kiss, he held her slightly away from him and braced himself for another loss. If that had been a good-bye kiss.…
He said, “Your sister?”
“To Terra. You knew that.”
“And if Austin isn’t going to take care of her, are you?”
“No. I belong here, Leo. And … and you?”
“I’m staying. I sort of think I’m needed here. Even though that sounds so full of ego shit.”
“It’s not. World does need you. And so do I.”
So not a good-bye kiss. Leo seized her again and held her close. They would stay here, and he would learn this planet and organize some sort of army that could protect it if the Russians ever returned. Or if the Kindred “no war” tradition changed. This planet needed an army; it just didn’t know that yet. He’d have Lu^kaj^ho to help him recruit, and Zoe to help train new units. If he stayed, Zoe would, and it would be a good thing to have your best friend as second in command.
Owen …
No. This was different. Owen was over. This was a new day, and he and Isabelle had places in this new world and work to do. Separately, and together.
* * *
The ship lifted. Marianne watched a planet fall away below, as she had twice before. On the Endeavor, on the Friendship, and now on the Return.
She had no idea what she, what any of them, might find on Terra. Twenty-eight years would have passed there by the time their ship landed. She had left a planet facing political, economic, and environmental struggles so violent that they mirrored the Darwinian arms race of R. sporii verses its virophage. Not an unapt comparison, not at all.
Branch said, “I wonder how long before we jump.”
Neither Marianne nor Claire answered him, because there was no answer. All they could do was wait and see.
She had a headache, right behind her eyes. Well, no wonder—little sleep, too much stress, and anyway she was too old for this. From now on, she would stay put.
“I have a headache,” Branch said.
Claire frowned and touched her own forehead. Had they all caught a last bug, the Kindred equivalent of a cold? Well, it didn’t matter, not compared to the bigger adventure. Some of their band—she’d almost thought “lahk”—had stayed on Kindred to rebuild, because humans always do.
She wished them well.
The stars blinked out, and the ship jumped.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I would like to thank my beta readers, all three of whom were a tremendous help with this novel: Douglas Pressley II, US Army, for his help with military matters; Dr. Maura Glynn-Thami for sharing her medical expertise and providing me with “doctor words”; and my husband, Jack Skillingstead, for his always valuable literary insights.
I would also like to thank my agent, Eleanor Wood, for her indefatigable efforts on my behalf.
TOR BOOKS BY NANCY KRESS
Beaker’s Dozen
Beggars and Choosers
Beggars Ride
Crossfire
Crucible
If Tomorrow Comes
Maximum Light
Probability Moon
Probability Space
Probability Sun
Steal Across the Sky
Tomorrow’s Kin
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Nancy Kress is the bestselling author of multiple science-fiction and fantasy novels, including Beggars in Spain, Probability Space, and Steal Across the Sky. Kress is the recipient of the Nebula, Hugo, Sturgeon, and Campbell awards. Her fiction has been translated into multiple languages, including Klingon.
@nancykress / nancykress.com, or sign up for email updates here.
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CONTENTS
Title Page
Copyright Notice
Epigraphs
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Acknowledgments
Tor Books by Nancy Kress
About the Author
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
IF TOMORROW COMES
Copyright © 2018 by Nancy Kress
All rights reserved.
Cover art by Stephan Martiniere
A Tor Book
Published by Tom Doherty Associates
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New York, NY 10010
www.tor-forge.com
Tor® is a registered trademark of Macmillan Publishing Group, LLC.
The Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available upon request.
ISBN 978-0-7653-9032-5 (hardcover)
ISBN 978-0-7653-9034-9 (ebook)
eISBN 9780765390349
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First Edition: March 2018
Nancy Kress, If Tomorrow Comes
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