Nomun turned, looked at the smooth face, now so much older than it had been–and somehow darker. “Yes,” he answered. “Yes, if you’ll give up the name.”
Young Nomun shrugged. “Of course. Life seems far more important to me than any name.”
Nomun smiled, with an effort.
AS THEY WADED out to the launch, Young Nomun asked, in a low voice, “So, will you tell me now? Are you the first Nomun?”
Just for a moment, all of Nomun’s years returned, all that deadly crushing weight. Nomun stopped, knee-deep in the black ocean, and felt the sand shift under his boots.
Finally he answered. “How could I ever know?”