“There are four winds that blow through the cosmos, driving travellers before them or brushing them aside,” Jenny said.

“Your hand is very warm and soft,” Gates said.

“By shifting, I throw us out to be caught by one of the winds – and I must make my selection carefully.”

“Maybe we’ll end up on a tropical … "

The bud of the rocket split, its metal casing folding away to expose a white mass which unfurled into petals of red and yellow. They grew slowly, and then faster and faster as Jenny looked up and out for something that wasn’t there.

Heat sat heavy on Gates’ face and the flames grew closer, and then

They were gone. And they were here. A gentle curve of white sand gathered up the bay. Coconut trees, steps cut into them with machete, rustled above Jenny and Gates.

“… beach. What a lovely place.”

“This is very wrong,” Jenny said.

“It certainly could be if you and I were to take a dip together.”

“Gates, shut that generous mouth of yours and listen to me! We’re far from where we should be.”