Aune supplied bulbs of something alcoholic. No one asked what it was. Aune worked with eukaryotes and archaea. “I made enough to get us lit,” she said. “Just a little lit. Because today is Gwenda’s birthday.”

“It was my birthday just a little while ago,” Portia said. “How old am I, anyway? Never mind, who’s counting.”

“To Portia,” Aune said. “Forever youngish.”

“To Proxima Centauri,” Sullivan said. “Getting closer every day. Not that much closer.”

“Here’s to all us Goldilockses. Here’s to a planet that’s just right.”

“To real gardens,” Aune said. “With real toads.”

“To Maureen,” Sisi said. “And old friends.” She squeezed Gwenda’s hand.

“To our House of Secrets,” Mei said.

“To House of Mystery,” Sisi said. They all turned and looked at her. Sisi squeezed Gwenda’s hand again. They drank.

“We didn’t get you anything, Gwenda,” Sullivan said.

“I don’t want anything,” Gwenda said.

“I do,” Portia said. “Stories! Ones I haven’t heard before.”

Sisi cleared her throat. “There’s just one thing,” she said. “We ought to tell Gwenda the one thing.”

“You’ll ruin her birthday,” Portia said.

“What?” Gwenda asked Sisi.

“It’s nothing,” Sisi said. “Nothing at all. Only the mind playing tricks. You know how it goes.”

“Maureen?” Gwenda said. “What’s going on?”

Maureen blew through the room, a vinegar breeze. “Approximately thirty-one hours ago Sisi was in the Control Room. She performed several usual tasks and then asked me to bring up our immediate course. Twelve seconds later, I observed her heart rate had increased precipitously. When I asked her if something was wrong, she said, ‘Do you see it, too, Maureen?’ I asked Sisi to tell me what she was seeing. Sisi said, ‘House of Mystery. Over to starboard. It was there. Then it was gone.’ I told Sisi I had not seen it. We called back the visuals, but nothing was recorded there. I broadcast on all channels. No one answered. No one has seen House of Mystery in the intervening time.”

“Sisi?” Gwenda said.

“It was there,” Sisi said. “Swear to God I saw it. Like looking in a mirror. So near I could almost touch it.”

They all began to talk at once.

“Do you think—”

“Just a trick of the imagination—”

“It disappeared like that. Remember?” Sullivan snapped his fingers. “Why couldn’t they come back again the same way?”

“No!” Portia said. She glared at them all. “I don’t want to talk about this, to rehash all this again. Don’t you remember? We talked and talked and we theorized and we rationalized and what difference did it make?”

“Portia?” Maureen said. “I will formulate something for you, if you are distraught.”

“No,” Portia said. “I don’t want anything. I’m fine.”