James McKimmey

“ Leo said softly.
"A long time, Leo," Kirk said. He thought of a girl with her hair braided about her head, looking up, while Loren had shot into the depths of sky and space. He thought of a little boy called Dickie, standing there, too, watching a fast-disappearing blackness in the sky. He thought about eighteen years, and the fading of youth. A boy becoming a man. Braided hair becoming gray. Memories fading and minds adjusting. New love, new dedication. A world shifting, a universe shifting.
Kirk looked at Eddie, the animal, real and alive, waiting patiently at the tips of Loren's fingers. ”

“ This planet was remote and set apart, and nothing about it had made William Kirk think he might find human life. Yet just beyond, through a thorny bush shaped like an exploding rose, Kirk had seen eyes and nose and a flash of yellow hair that were definitely human.
Kirk poised motionless. He was three miles from the rocket and Leo, who was waiting inside of it. He thought for a moment of how Leo had told him, as they made their landing, that this is the kind of planet where you could go no further. ”

“ Loren said and he held his breath.
"Oh, yes," Kirk lied. "Of course."
"I can't ask about Eddie, because we never had the chance," Loren said, his eyes still lost. "I always told Annette that no kid should ever grow up without a brother, only we never had the chance for Eddie." Loren reached out absently and touched the brown and yellow neck of the creature. "I called this fellow Eddie, though. Do you suppose that was all right? He's not very pretty."
Kirk nodded, looking at the waving, funnel-shaped head of the animal. "That was all right, Harry." ”