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Tibor looked at his watch. "Go ahead and call the newspapers, if you want."

"Why bother?" Martin said, already halfway out the door. "I don't see much point in it."

Tibor tossed the page of printout on the floor. "Yeah. Guess I'm going to go home, too." He looked up at Christopher. "You know, you're lucky," he said, shaking his head. "You're not married. Never thought I'd envy somebody for that."

"Some luck," Christopher said softly, but by then the astronomers had both left, and he was alone in the bright silence of the conference room.

An hour and a half to the end of the world. There was no sense running, Christopher knew. When the end of the world falls like the sword of God out of the sky, there was no place far enough to run. He walked back to his office and stared at the books and papers piled helter-skelter across his desk. They didn't matter. Nothing mattered now; nothing at all.

He closed the door.

Kara was in her office two doors down, reading a journal. She was the newest hire in the University Research Institute's computer division - she'd been there only a year - but of all the group, he liked working with her best.

Occasionally they went out for coffee together; once they'd gone to a movie.

She looked up when he passed her door. "Say, Chris, where is the astronomy group off to?" she asked. "I was just looking for Tibor but he's not here, and his car's not in the lot."

"He went home early today," Chris said. "So did Martin."

"Oh," Kara said. "No big deal. Guess I'll have to catch him tomorrow." She went back to her reading.

Christopher worked well with her but sometimes he thought he didn't really know her. Kara was four years younger than he was, and at times the difference seemed like an abyss. Sometimes it seemed to him that she was gently flirting with him, and then a moment later she would be nothing but business, friendly and casual in a completely professional way. She was smart and extremely competent; he never had to explain anything to her twice. He liked working with her.

She was a bit shy, he knew, although she hid it well. One time he'd seen Kara with her kid sister, and the difference in her had been striking. She'd been simultaneously more grown up, and also younger, laughing and kidding. That day, he thought, was probably when he'd fallen in love with her. He'd known better than to try to make a pass at somebody he worked with; far too often, that led to disaster.

But he'd thought about it many times over the last year. And now, he thought; he could do it now. Now that nothing mattered.

"Hey, Kara," he said, and waited for her to look up again. "Coffee?"

She looked at her watch. "Well—"

"Come on," he said. "You need the break. It's after four."

She looked at the stack of papers on her desk, a bit neater than the piles on his, but still formidable. "Thanks, but I can't. I've really got a lot of work."

"Oh, come on. If it was the end of the world, would any of this really matter?"

She smiled. "Well, okay. Give me five minutes."

It was more like twenty minutes before she came by his office. Chris spent the time writing names on a list of people he ought to call, then crossing them off again.

They went down Thayer Street to a coffee shop popular with undergraduates, and grabbed a corner table. It had been raining all day but the sky had finally cleared and the late afternoon sun glinted in the puddles. Chris's stomach was wound tight. He had to say something now but he couldn't find words. He felt like he was in high school again, dry-mouthed at the thought of asking a girl to dance. And, indeed, what could he say? He realized that he didn't want to threaten their friendship with a pass, and suddenly knew that he wasn't going to ask her anything. It would be too crude. He wanted her to like him too much. He felt like a fool. It was the end of the world, and even so, he was tongue-tied. Nothing could change him.

Kara didn't seem to notice his silence. Perhaps she had things on her mind, too. He didn't even know if she