Interstellar

Taking the lander down would present its own set of problems. What if the atmosphere was unstable? The other planets had thrown them some freakin’ hard curve balls. Even if the little red dot was habitable, who was to say it didn’t have its own surprises?

And then, after all of that, she would have to build a camp, a home for the children to come.

Of course, she wasn’t entirely alone. She had Case, and there was the long shot that Edmunds was still alive.

He tried to imagine the reunion, but found he didn’t want to think about it. No doubt “Wolf” was a good guy, and he hoped for Brand’s sake that he was still alive.

He really did.

But he didn’t want to think about it too much.

Maybe they had already sent somebody to help her. Any of the Rangers was capable of making the trip, what with the wormhole still sitting right where it had been. He resolved to bring it up next time he saw the administrator. Wolf or no Wolf, Brand would need help.

* * *

When he returned to the farmhouse, he found that a new power supply had been brought, as promised, and so he began the work of bringing Tars back to life.

“Settings,” Tars said. “General settings, security setting—”

“Honesty,” Cooper said. “New level setting. Ninety-five percent.”

“Confirmed,” Tars replied. “Additional customization?”

“Yes,” Cooper said. “Humor seventy-five percent. Wait… sixty percent.”

“This place,” Tars said. “Is this what your life on Earth was like?”

“Well, it was never this clean,” Cooper said, glancing around the immaculate house—then beyond, through the windows at the houses and trees—which, their spatial orientation aside—represented a simulacrum of Earth.

“I’m not sure I like this pretending we’re back where we came from,” he murmured.

* * *

A nurse was waiting for Cooper as he nervously entered the hospital waiting room. He wasn’t sure what to expect, wasn’t even sure what he felt.

“Is she…?” He left it hanging, in a way not sure what the question really was.

“The family is all in there,” the nurse told him.

“The family?” he asked.

“They all came to see her,” she replied. “She’s been in cryosleep for almost two years.”

She indicated the door and, taking a deep breath, Cooper eased it open. No dresser this time. No chair.

She was there, on the bed, surrounded by people he didn’t know, but many of them had little bits and pieces of Murph in their faces. Children, grandchildren, babies…

And Murph.

The family parted for him as he approached. Some of them were smiling, others looked curious, even puzzled. One little boy hid behind his mother’s knee.

She looked very old, and very frail, but in her eyes he could see his daughter, the little girl with the flaming hair, the beautiful woman berating him over the comm. Murph, in all of her seasons.

Tears were in those eyes, but her face was joyful. She reached for him.

“Murph,” he said, his throat constricting.

“Dad,” she whispered. She nodded to the others, and they quietly backed away.

“You told them I like farming,” he said, shooting her a look.

She smiled that same mischievous smile she’d had when he caught her hiding in the truck. For a moment he just reveled in it.

“Murph,” he said after a time. “It was me. I was your ghost.”

“I know,” she said, lifting her wrist, showing him the watch.

“People didn’t believe me,” she continued. “They thought I’d done it all myself.” She tapped the timepiece. “But I knew who it was…”

He regarded her—amazed, proud, happy, broken-hearted, all at the same time.

“A father looks in his child’s eyes,” Cooper said, “and thinks—maybe it’s them—maybe my child will save the world.”

Murph smiled.

“And everyone,” she continued, “once a child, wants to look into their dad’s eyes and know he saw. But usually, by then, the father is gone.” She gripped his hand a little tighter. “Nobody believed me, but I knew you’d come back.”

“How?” Cooper asked.

“Because my dad promised me,” she replied.

Cooper felt tears rolling down his face.

“I’m here now,” he said, seeing again how feeble, how tiny she looked. “I’m here for you Murph.”

But Murph shook her head.

“No parent should ever have to watch their child die,” she said. “My kids are here for me now. Go.”

“Where?” he asked. Where in this world did he even belong? In that farmhouse?

“It’s so obvious,” Murph sighed.

And she told him.

* * *

When she finished talking, a few moments later, the family came back to her, attracted to her as if by gravity. He saw the love they had for her, and she for them. And even though they were also his family, it was as if he was watching from another dimension—as if he was once again Murph’s ghost.

He left, but her words stayed with him.

“It’s so obvious,” she’d said. “Brand. She’s out there.”

EPILOGUE

Amelia watched, weeping, as Case excavated Wolf’s pod, buried beneath a massive rock fall. Only the robot and the desert witnessed her grief.