"Something about all possible universes… We only live in a tiny part of what's going on. Everything that could happen is happening somewhere."

"That puts it pretty well. And they contain other possible versions of ourselves. According to traditional theory, apart from interference at the microscopic level, information doesn't flow between them. They can't communicate. We thought… And then, when Broghuilio and his last hangers-on took off from Jevlen, their ships were somehow kicked back to a version of early Minerva." Rita would know about that, of course. At the time, it had been dissected in the news for weeks. Imares Broghuilio had been the leader of the attempted Jevlenese coup.

"So what are you…" Rita broke off as what he was implying sank in. Her eyes widened. The other talk around the table died as one by one the rest of the company tuned in. Rita was now speaking for all of them. "You're not saying this call was from some other… reality, universe… whatever?"

Hunt nodded, deadly serious now. "Precisely that."

Rita tried to absorb it, smiled incredulously, shook her head. "On the phone? A regular call on the phone? Surely that's crazy…" But at the same time her expression said she wasn't sure why.

"What better way to communicate?" Hunt replied, looking around now to address the whole company. "We think it came via a relay device that was projected into Earth orbit somehow-like the satellites that connect into the Thurien h-net."

Those present who hadn't known about it already returned disbelieving looks, almost as if expecting this to be a joke. Leonard waited for a moment to avoid sounding provocatively skeptical, then said, "How can you be sure it was from another reality, Doctor? Can you positively rule out the possibility that it was a hoax?"

Which was what Hunt had been expecting. "Oh, absolutely," he assured them. "The caller couldn't have fooled me. I know him too well." He glanced around to emphasize the point. "You see, it was me. The person I talked with was another version of myself."

And over the rest of the meal, the whole astonishing story came out. The conclusion that the call had originated from some alternative future brought up the question of time-travel contradictions, which Sarah confessed to having been unclear about ever since the business with the Jevlenese. Going back to the past changed it, she maintained, and that didn't make sense.

"Not with the old notion of a single reality and one time line," Hunt agreed. "But going back to an earlier point on a different time line avoids the contradictions. It could be arbitrarily close to the one that you came from, but nevertheless not the same one."

Owen came in. "You couldn't change your own, exact past-where no one from the future had ever shown up to bring about any changes. That's true."

"But you're changing the other one just as much," Sarah objected. Owen looked at Hunt.

"The Multiverse totality itself is timeless," Hunt said. "Nothing in it ever really changes anyway. "

"So what's this change that we all see? Where does it come from?" Leonard asked.

"Now you're getting into philosophers' and theologians' territory," Hunt answered. "I just deal in what the physics says."

"Some kind of construct of consciousness," Caldwell offered. "Consciousness navigates its way through the totality somehow." He shrugged. "Maybe that's what consciousness is."

This aspect intrigued Danchekker. His first reaction was usually to reject anything radical, but Hunt had been through this with him several times by now. It seemed that Chris had been doing some more thinking. "The ramifications are profound," he told Caldwell. "Perhaps one of the most significant developments in the history of science yet. The bringing together of physical and biological science at the quantum level. Generalizing 'consciousness' to mean any form of self-instigated behavior modification gives us a whole new way of looking at living systems."

"You sound as if you want to get more involved in it, Chris," Caldwell commented. His steely gray eyes had an odd twinkle.

"Well, absolutely," Danchekker agreed. "Who in my position wouldn't? I mean-" The clacking of the MC's gavel from the podium above the head table interrupted.

The clattering of dessert cutlery had died away by now, and the waiters were serving coffee, port wines, and liqueurs. The MC looked around while the last murmurs of conversation faded. "Thank you all, ladies and gentlemen. Now that everyone is wined, contented, and fed, it's my pleasure to bring us to the prime business of the evening…"

A buildup followed, outlining Owen's career and achievements. Several speakers followed, relating their personal anecdotes, and Hunt went up last to deliver the keynote address. It went over well. The MC called Owen up from the floor to respond, and at the end the room rose to give him an ovation. But then Owen remained at the podium. Puzzled looks traveled this way and that around the room. Even the MC seemed thrown off balance.

"And now I have something further to tell you all," Owen said. "Something that will set tonight aside as a truly memorable occasion in all our lives. Several days ago, an event took place just a few miles from where we are sitting now, which I believe could signal one of the most startling developments in the entire history of our species, with incalculable implications for the future. It's fitting that I should be saying this as my last official duty on behalf of UNSA. For the era of discovery that I represented is over. A new one is about to begin…"

By the time Hunt got up again to complete the story, the thunder for the evening had truly been exercised where it belonged. All fears of stealing Owen's show were forgotten. The room was all but stunned into silence and immobility, except for one or two figures making inconspicuously for the exits, who Hunt guessed to be media people hurrying to send off their stories. Some questions followed, generally echoing those already heard at Caldwell's table, but not a great many-no doubt because most of the listeners would need time to fully grasp what they had heard. Hunt thought it just as well. This was a celebration dinner, not a technical conference.

But it seemed to have achieved its aim. Owen expressed satisfaction that the occasion had been immortalized. People were staying at their tables and talking in intense, animated groups instead of breaking up and starting to leave in the way that would have been typical. "That would be a tough one to follow," Rita said as Hunt came back over and sat down after exchanging contact details with a number of people wanting to know more who had stopped him on the way.

Caldwell waited until he had Danchekker's attention and looked at him fixedly for a moment as he sipped from his glass. "And now that it's all official, I have some more news-for you, Chris," he said.

"Me?" Danchekker frowned quizzically. "What kind of news?"

"I've been talking to Calazar about Vic's matrix propagation ideas." Calazar headed the planetary administration on Thurien. "He agrees that their scientists and our scientists need to get together on this. And before the speeches, you'd just started telling us about how bioscience and physics are all implicated together. So we've arranged for you and Vic to transfer to Thurien with a small team and work with them."

"Vic and me? To Thurien?… When?"

"A week from now-on the ship that you mentioned. It's called the Ishtar. Some Thuriens who have been visiting places in Asia are going home in it."

Maeve looked delighted. "Why, that's wonderful, Professor!" she exclaimed. "The same ship that your cousin will be going on. So you won't have to lose contact with her after all."

"That's what I was thinking, too," Caldwell said. "I've no doubt she can take care of herself, but an alien culture at another star needs a lot of adjusting to. I've had a taste of it myself. Even if she did make her own arrangements independently, we are still Earth's official space agency, and I feel we have a responsibility. So I'd like you to keep an eye on her, on UNSA's behalf, Chris, if you would." Danchekker appeared to have frozen. He sat, holding a grape that he had taken from a dish on the table suspended halfway to his mouth. Caldwell's brow furrowed. "Okay, Chris?"