A setting on the second panel displays all the constellations that are visible from our current position. The image bubbles upward and forms a dome above the StarPad. The stars align with their true positions above the observatory. Then the officer shows us how to change the view between planets. Different planets see different constellations—or slight variations of the same ones.

The third panel lets us zoom around the galaxy and examine any star we want to see. You can grab a star and remove it, and the rest of the display fades. The orb grows until it’s several times larger than a Hologis sphere, and changes to the star’s true color. As it rotates in place, wisps of holographic plasma shoot off the surface, replicating the arcs of prominences or bursts of solar flares.

The officer taps a smaller orb next to the star and the entire image shrinks to a manageable size. An information display appears. We can view the star’s temperature, classification, magnitude, age, known planets, and distance from our current position. This particular star is called Merak, which is part of the constellation Ursa Major.

Then, just as we’re getting used to operating the StarPad, it happens. People call to us and point up: soft ribbons of green and blue light sweep across the observatory windows.

The aurora.

If only Glacia could see this. She should be here, admiring it. She asked to teach me. I don’t want to learn on my own. She loves this stuff. It wouldn’t be fair if I taught myself.

The wavy streams of color continue to flow along the length of the Ember and fade to nothing. As the last ribbons disappear, the starry background reemerges, and the Kairos supernova burns a fresh shade of orange. As we speed through the galaxy, its light grows younger.

Tomorrow morning, Kairos will become a dot among dots, given a second, useless chance to escape its inevitable fate.

Chapter Eighteen

I have trouble falling asleep. My eyes keep drifting to the pale blue clock above the door. The minutes drag. One. At. A. Time. After turning over, and over, and over again, I twist onto my back and cross my arms under my head and stare up at the ceiling, wishing my body would succumb to sleep. I try to empty my mind, but the effort proves impossible to maintain. Stray thoughts seep through. Whispers. The quivering of my muscles. A ringing in my ears.

The hum.

I can see the folds in Captain Blitner’s skin. My mind warps the wrinkles until they are deep gorges carved into his face. His droopy smile, stretched thin. Those itchy eyes and cold hands. How can a man live like that? Isolated, forced to sift through history and choose which memories to keep and which to throw away. Will I be like him one day, stuck in a room for the rest of my life?