The old survival instincts asserted themselves and there were marriages among the younger ones. One of the first to marry was Julia.

She stopped to talk to Prentiss one evening. She still wore the red skirt, now faded and patched, but her face was tired and thoughtful and no longer bold.

“Is it true, John,” she asked, “that only a few of us might be able to have children here and that most of us who tried to have children in this gravity would die for it?”

“It’s true,” he said. “But you already knew that when you married.”

“Yes⁠ ⁠… I knew it.” There was a little silence. “All my life I’ve had fun and done as I pleased. The human race didn’t need me and we both knew it. But now⁠—none of us can be apart from the others or be afraid of anything. If we’re selfish and afraid there will come a time when the last of us will die and there will be nothing on Ragnarok to show we were ever here.