Lee would like to be an astronaut. She thinks about saying that. She could have been, once. Israel started dipping their toes in that years ago; they launched a rocket back in '61. If she'd stayed, she might have gone to university, graduated with a degree in engineering or physics or maths, went on to get a master's, she could have done a lot of things.
She would have been desperately unhappy, trapped as a boy, surrounded by war. But she's unhappy now. Would it have been a fair trade?
Just us, he says, and that would be nice too. Empty and quiet and cold, no other human beings around. There's nowhere like that on Earth.
She squeezes his hand. “Do you think they will be okay?”