“Everything okay, love?”

“I’m fine, Mom.” Maureen was an attractive young woman. Looked like her mother, Hutch thought with a sense of pride. She was a history major, also like Priscilla. She had her father’s easygoing manner. That latter characteristic inevitably betrayed her when she tried to hide being unhappy. “I’m glad you got home okay.”

“Maureen, we only went to Alioth.” She smiled at how that must have sounded. Maureen had never been farther than Moonbase. “It was a good flight.”

“I hear you’re going out again. To the middle of the galaxy.” It hadn’t taken long for the news to get around. “To the place where they make the omegas.”

“In November,” Hutch said. “We’re just making the trip to look around. And don’t worry. We’ll only be gone a few months.”

“I wish you wouldn’t.”

“I’ll be fine, sweetheart. We’re just going to take a look and come home.”

“You’ll get yourself killed,” she said. “What happens if the monsters come after you?”

“I don’t think we need to worry about monsters, Maureen.”

“You don’t know that. And the ship could break down. Who’s going to go after you? Who’d even know?”

“There’ll be two ships, Maureen. Orion’s lending us the James McAdams.”

“What if they both break down?”

“You know that’s not going to happen.”

“Mom, you’re not the most careful person in the world.”

“I promise I won’t do anything foolish.”

“I know. I’m just not sure what I’d do if something happened to you.”

They’d spent most of their time on the flight home talking about going deep, theorizing about the omegas. Talking about the Cauldron. The place where the omegas were manufactured. The clouds now moving through Earth’s general neighborhood had needed 1.7 million years to get this far. That meant, of course, that whatever was producing them very likely no longer existed.

Hence, there was probably no danger.

Even if they discovered a production facility of some sort, a mega-platform manufacturing and dispatching lethal visitors around the galaxy, Hutch certainly would not be inclined to go anywhere near it. “Nothing’s going to happen to me,” she said. “We’re just going for a ride. See what’s there.”

“Can I come?”

“That’s not a good idea, Maureen. You can’t just take a year off from school.”

“Why not?”

“Because Charlie would want to come. And then Matt’s nephew would claim a spot. Where would it end?”

“Mom, for me: Don’t go. Don’t do this.”

Hutch recalled the distance that had always existed between herself and her mother, who’d never understood how her child could leave the serenity and security of New Jersey to gallivant around—she’d actually used that term—in the superluminals. They were closer now. She was still alive and well in the family home in Princeton, eternally grateful that Hutch had eventually come to her senses, married, had a family, and settled down.

“Mom, it’s not funny. It really isn’t.”

“Sorry. I was thinking about your grandmother.”

“She won’t like it either.”

“I know.” Hutch turned serious. “Listen, love, I have to go with them. There’s no way I can stay home when this is happening. I was there at the beginning. I want to be around at the end. Or at least when we find out what’s going on.”

“Dad wouldn’t have wanted you to go, either.”

She was right about that. “You’re going to have to cut me some slack, Maureen.”

Her daughter had black hair, exquisite features, luminous dark eyes. She was in red slacks and a white pullover that read UNIVERSITY OF VIRGINIA. “Okay,” she said. “Have it your own way. You always do.” She went into a sulk.

“Look, love. Bear with me on this. When I get back, school will be out, and we’ll head for Switzerland. You and me. And Charlie, if he wants.”

“You’re trying to buy me off.”

“Am I succeeding?”

Finally, a grin broke through the clouds. “Okay.” Then serious again: “But make sure you come back.”

An hour later, Charlie called. He was almost three years younger than his sister. They’d obviously talked, and he satisfied himself with telling her he would absolutely like to go to Switzerland when she got home.

“Good,” she said.

He had his father’s eyes and jaw. And that quizzical expression that had so charmed her thirty years ago. She sighed. Time moves so quickly.

SHE’D BRIEFLY THOUGHT, years ago, that she’d solved the riddle of the omega clouds. At least partially. She’d seen a pattern of explosions that, observed from select points outside the galaxy, might have constituted a kind of light-show symphony. She’d been excited for a while, but the mathematicians to whom she’d shown the idea had smiled politely. It was, one of them said, a case of an observer seeing what she wanted to see. And he used the exploding omegas to produce different patterns. Seen from different perspectives.

SHE’D BE GONE at least seven months. Hutch was reluctant to take off for that long. Wouldn’t be back until June at best. Her kids were away at school, so there was really nothing to keep her home. Still, she worried she’d be in the way. Didn’t think Matt and Jon would want a middle-aged woman on board for that length of time. They’d told her sure, come, it’ll be the mission of a lifetime, but she was still unsure until the moment Rudy’s image sat in her living room, posing the question. “You were there at the beginning,” he said. “You were there when we figured out how to destroy the damned things. This’ll be the next step. You really want to be sitting home watching Clubroom?”

“Not really.”

“Hutch, if I tell you something, will you promise not to laugh at me?”

“Sure, Rudy.”

“I’ve always been envious of you. I mean, you’ve been at the center of so much. I know it’s Jon who’s at the front of the parade here. This is going to be remembered as the Silvestri mission. But they’re going to remember the crew, too. And I like the idea of having my name associated with yours.”

“Rudy, that’s very nice of you.”

“It’s true.”

That brought an awkward silence. “So when do we leave?” she asked. “Do we have anything firm yet?”

“November. The fifteenth.”

“You’re kidding. That’s less than two months.”

“That’s the launch.”

“Okay. I’ll be there.”

“Sorry about the short notice. There’s a move in Congress—”

“I heard.”

“We’re concerned about the possibility of a cease and desist order, prohibiting further testing.”

“They’re worried we’ll stir up whatever’s out there.”

“That’s what they’re saying.” That was nonsense, of course. But the Greens had gotten elected by trying to scare people to death. We’ll protect you, they claimed. We want them to stay away from us, so we’ll stay away from them.

TWO DAYS LATER, they did a conference call. “I’ve been looking into getting adequate shielding for the ships,” said Rudy. He made a face, looked unhappy. “It’ll be expensive.” Radiation within sixty light-years of the core was substantial.

“How much?” asked Matt.

Rudy quoted the figure. For the investment to armor the two vessels, they could have bought a third ship, new. If new superluminals were on the market.

“That’s painful,” said Jon, “but it shouldn’t be a problem. The corporates want to give us money now.”

“But it always comes with strings,” said Hutch. She turned back to Rudy. “Can we raise it from donations?”

“We have a decent chance. My question is simply whether it wouldn’t be smarter to go somewhere else. Not go to the core. Maybe save that for later.”

Jon glanced at Matt. “What’s your feeling, Hutch?”