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“Almost? You’re asking me to hang everything on ‘almost?’”

The professor stepped a little closer.

“I’m asking you to trust me,” he said. Professor Brand’s eyes were burning with what seemed like a limitless passion, and Cooper realized that the old man had thrown all of himself into this. He believed—really believed—that it could be done. Cooper had seen glimpses of this fervor before, back in the day, but he had never understood what lay behind it.

Now he did. The survival of the human race.

“All those years of training,” he said. “You never told me.”

“We can’t always be open about everything, Coop, even if we want to be.” The professor paused, and then he said, “What can you tell your children about this mission?”

That was a tender point, one he had already been considering. What would he tell Tom and Murph? That the world was ending? That he was going off into space to try and save it? And if he had known all those years ago he was training for such a mission, how would he have reacted?

There was no way to know. So much time had passed, so much had occurred, he barely knew the young man he had once been.

“Find us a new home,” the professor said. “When you return, I’ll have solved the problem of gravity. You have my word.”

<p>TWELVE</p>

The truck had barely rolled to a stop before Murph swung the door open and dashed for the house. On the porch, Donald watched her whiz past, then shot his son-in-law a questioning look.

Cooper simply shook his head and followed Murph inside and up the stairs. He heard a dragging sound coming from her room.

When he tried to open her door, it only cracked a little—from what he could tell, she had stacked a desk and a chair against it.

“Murph?” he attempted.

“Go!” she shouted. “If you’re leaving, just go!”

* * *

Donald listened in his usual way, without many interruptions or much expression, just taking it in as it came. It was a little cool on the porch, but Cooper preferred to be out beneath the night sky, rather than in the house.

After a time, he’d given Donald the full story of what had happened to him and Murph. He sat back to see how the old man would react.

“This world was never enough for you, was it, Coop?” Donald said.

Cooper didn’t answer right away. He knew it was an indictment, that there was an accusation there. Donald took things as they came. He might grouse a little here and there, but he was adaptable. And he was good at finding the virtue in whatever situation presented itself. He was a man who counted his blessings more often than he railed against injustice.

Nothing wrong with that, Cooper mused. The world needed people like Donald, and always had. But it needed more than one kind of person. It needed the men who sailed dangerous seas, to discover unknown lands. Those men had not been—for the most part—of the “count-your-blessings” sort.

“I’m not gonna lie to you, Donald,” Cooper said. “Heading out there is what I feel born to do, and it excites me. That doesn’t make it wrong.”

Donald thought about that for a moment.

“It might,” the old man countered. “Don’t trust the right thing, done for the wrong reason. The ‘why’ of a thing—that’s the foundation.”

“Well, the foundation’s solid,” Cooper said, a bit sadly. He swept his hand out toward the fields, the distant mountains—the world.

“We farmers sit here every year when the rains fail and say ‘next year.’” He paused, and looked at his father-in-law. “Next year ain’t gonna save us. Nor the one after. This world’s a treasure, Donald. But she’s been telling us to leave for a while now. Mankind was born on Earth. It was never meant to die here.”

He stopped, feeling somehow a little hollow, even though he believed everything he said. He was right, and Donald would get to that.

So would the kids.

Donald brushed some dust off of the porch rail. He pursed his lips, and now he did seem emotional—uncharacteristically so.

“Tom’ll be okay,” he said, as if reading Cooper’s mind. “But you have to make it right with Murph…”

“I will,” Cooper said, even though he knew it was easier said than done.

Without making any promises you don’t know you can keep,” Donald finished, looking him directly in the eye.

Cooper looked away, nodding.

Feeling the burden.

* * *

Cooper figured he’d let Murph cool down overnight, that she’d be easier to approach after some sleep. But the next morning, the door was still barricaded. He pressed it open gingerly, until he could reach the chair and pull it down from where it was stacked on the desk. Then he pushed it wider and stepped in.

Murph was in her bed, back turned to him.

“You have to talk to me,” he said.

She didn’t respond, and he wondered if she might still be asleep.

“I have to fix this before I go,” he said.

He leaned over her to see her face, and he felt a sort of shock go through him. Her cheeks were still blazing and tear-stained, and he wondered if she’d slept at all.

“Then I’ll keep it broken,” she said stubbornly. “So you have to stay.”

So that’s how it’s gonna be.

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