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.”“I know all that. Wanted to, anyway...”“We can’t be doing that, Mandy. Seriously.”“I know. But it’s US.” She looked at me, big blu... eyes moist. “It’s us forever...”“Baby, you say that now. You’re fourteen.”“And a day.”“We shouldn’t.”“I’ll be good. Don’t send me away.”“Honey, if other people found out, I’d be the one who went away. Twenty years in jail.”“For playin’ with your pee-pee?” That was the term her parents had raised her using.“It quit being a pee-pee when it matured, baby. You know. She was the one I would expect to be able to go the longest. Stairs, either moving up or down, use different muscles, and in different combinations than walking or running do, so perhaps it wasn't surprising that she was feeling it right along with us.As we sat there I suddenly flashed on an image — a memory from one of those rare trips to Earth that I'd taken with my parents when I was little. There had been moving stairs! I remembered the sensation of riding them very clearly. What were they. More

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