"Oh!" River sighed with wonder and leaned back in his arms. He smiled and hugged her tight, setting his chin on her windblown curls.

They were standing on the rooftop of the highest building in the city. Leonoris spread out below them, an alien city far in humanity's future. Humanity had spread to the stars finding worlds already inhabited with alien people and intermingling with them, their children set out to colonize even farther stars.

This was one of those worlds, where humanity may be more "humanish," but were no less inventive and artistic. Geniuses, the whole breed. To spread out among the stars and make them a home.

The starry sky above was choked with stars, far more than on Earth, this world closer to the galactic core. The wind whipped fresh around them, cool. With River warm and vital in his arms.

"It's beautiful," she whispered reverently.

The city spread below them, glowing. A city of glass spires, lit from within. Domes and minarets, onion domes, and graceful towers. Seamless glass sculptures, gleaming their soft blue-green light into the tranquil night.

He leaned down and whispered in her ear.

"City, city, gleaming bright,
In the dark and velvet night,
Oh what immortal hand or eye
did frame thy wondrous symmetry?

In what distant deeps or skies
Gleamed the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dared he aspire?
What the hand dared seize the fire?"

River turned up to look at him in astonishment.

He turned down and looked at her. He shrugged. "You come from an amazing species, River."

She smiled up at him, her eyes liquid in the starshine. She turned her back on the city, cupped his cheek in one soft hand,

"When the stars threw down their spears,
And water'd heaven with their tears,
Did He smile His work to see?
Did He who made the lamb make thee?"

—

With kudos to William Blake's poem, "The Tiger" also known as "Tiger Tiger, Burning Bright."

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