With the question a scene from his childhood kept coming back to him; a late summer evening in the first year on Ragnarok and Julia sitting beside him in the warm starlight.⁠ ⁠…

“You’re my son, Billy,” she had said. “The first I ever had. Now, before so very long, maybe I’ll have another one.”

Hesitantly, not wanting to believe, he had asked, “What some of them said about how you might die then⁠—it won’t really happen, will it, Julia?”

“It⁠ ⁠… might.” Then her arm had gone around him and she had said, “If I do I’ll leave in my place a life that’s more important than mine ever was.