Starplex

"Well, 'now' is still 'now,' of course," said Jag. "But if you're asking if there was any life in the Milky Way hack when that light started its journey to us, I would say no.

Galactic cores are very radioactive — even more so than we used to think.

In a large elliptical galaxy, such as we're seeing here, the whole galaxy is essentially the core. With stars that close together, there would be so much hard radiation everywhere that stable genetic molecules wouldn't be able to form." He paused. "I guess that means it's only middle-aged galaxies that can give rise to life; young, armless ones will be sterile."

There was silence on the bridge for a time, broken only by the gentle hiss from the air-circulating equipment and the occasional soft beep from a control panel. Each person contemplated the small fuzzy blot of light that one day would give rise to all of them, contemplated the fact that they were farther out in space than anyone had ever been before, contemplated the vastly empty darkness all around them.

Six billion light-years. Keith remembered reading about Borman, Lovell, and Anders, the Apollo 8 astronauts who had circled the moon over Christmas of 1968, reading passages from Genesis back to the people on Earth. They had been the first human beings to get far enough from the homeworld so that they could cup it in an outstretched hand. Maybe more than any other single event, that view, that perspective, that image, had marked childhood's end for humanity — the realization that all their world was one tiny ball floating against the night.

And now, thought Keith, maybe — just maybe — this image was the one that marked the beginning of middle age: a still frame that would become the frontispiece of volume two of humanity's biography. It wasn't just Earth that was 'tiny, insignificant, and fragile. Keith lifted his hand and reached out toward the hologram, cupping the island of stars in his fingers. He sat silently for a long moment, then lowered his hand, and allowed his eyes to wander over the overwhelming dark emptiness that spread out in all directions.

His gaze happened to pass over Jag — who was doing exactly what Keith had done a moment ago, using one of his hands to cup the Milky Way.

"Excuse me, Keith," said Lianne, the first words spoken by anyone on the bridge for several minutes. Her voice was soft, subdued, the way one would talk in a cathedral. "The electrical system is repaired. We can launch that probe anytime you like."

Keith nodded slowly. "Thank you," be said, his voice wistful. He looked once more at the young Milky Way floating in the darkness, and then said softly, "Rhombus, let's have a look at what's going on back home."

Chapter XX

"Launching probe," said Rhombus.

In the holo bubble, Keith could see the silver-and-green cylinder moving away from the ship, illuminated by a tracking searchlight on Starplex's hull. It looked out of place against the fuzzy splotches of distant galaxies. Soon the probe touched the shortcut and disappeared.

"The mn should only take about five minutes," said Rhombus.

Keith nodded, trying to contain himself. He didn't know which he wanted more: to have the probe report that it had detected Rissa's transponder — meaning the Rum Runner was at least still intact — or for it to report nothing, meaning the probeship might have made it through the shortcut to safety.

Time passed, and Keith's nervousness grew. A watched pot never boils, but…

He looked up at the trio of clocks floating in space above the hidden port-side door. "How long has it been?"

"Seven minutes," said Rhombus.

"Shouldn't your probe be back by now?"

Lights moved up the Ib's web. "Then where the hell-"

"Tachyon pulse!" announced Rhombus. "Here it comes."

"Don't wait until it's docked," said Keith. "Download the data by radio and display it."

"Doing so with delight," said Rhombus. "Here we go."

The probe's scan was low resolution, and video, rather than holographic.

A part of the all-encompassing bubble was framed off in blue, and playback of the flatscreen images the probe had recorded began to appear.

"What the — ?" said Keith. "Rhombus, did you use the correct angle of approach?"

"Yes — to within a fraction of a degree."

Jag said a Waldahudar swear word. By default, PHANTOM didn't translate profanity, but Keith felt like swearing himself. "That's not where we came from," he said.

Jag's fur was motionless. "No," he said. The image in the screen showed tightly packed red stars. "At a guess, I'd say it's not even anywhere in the Milky Way. That looks like the inside of a globular cluster. There are dozens associated with CGC 1008, so it might even be one of those."

"Which means…"

"Which means," said Thor, lifting his hands from the helm console, "that we can't go home. We don't have the correct address."

"The latitude/longitude coordinate system must not work the same way over such great distances," said Lianne.

Keith's voice was small. "Even at full hyperdrive-" Jag snorted.