“What about you?” Valerie had asked. Her eyes darted between them. Naomi had felt like Valerie was pitting them against each other, and it hadn’t sat well with her.

“I reject the premise that those are the only two options,” she had said. “There must be some engineering fix. Or I could be really selfless and throw myself over and let my body stop the trolley.”

“I like that better. Can I change my answer?” Evan had asked.

“No. Too late. And is that what you’d do?” Valerie had asked Naomi. “Sacrifice yourself for the greater good, if it really came down to it?”

“I’d like to think so. But I can’t pretend when faced with it, I wouldn’t be selfish and let someone else take the fall for me.”

Over the years, Valerie had asked Naomi and Evan variations of the same question—the transplant problem, the loop and the man in the yard variation. Eventually, Naomi had asked her to stop. She never knew what answer Valerie wanted her to give.

Evan Kan: This is it. How long until the jump?

Naomi Lovelace: Two hours. I’ll message you once I’m through. Feel better.

Evan Kan: Go forth and disappear. I’ll be here when you get back.

I’m pregnant, she typed. Deleted it again.

I’m a coward. Deleted it again.

I’m sorry. Delete.

Naomi strapped herself into her chair on the bridge. Her belly swelled above the waistband of the seat belt, the shoulder straps pressed her against the back of the chair. Hart had given her another scan, a snapshot to compare to once they were through. Still there.

Hixon flexed her fingers. Her red hair had grown out since launch, and it drifted up from her skull like fire. Over the past 126 days she had run the Alcubierre simulation at least 126 times.

Naomi counted her breaths, tucking away the nerves that had no place here. The others were equally determined. Hart twisted her wedding ring round and round again. This was nearly the halfway point to Cavendish. It’d be four more months of travel once they jumped. They couldn’t jump too close to the planet for the same reason they couldn’t jump too close to Earth—just in case something went wrong. This test was the last step, and then it would be time to leave the solar system behind—to fling themselves further than any human had ever been.

Naomi clenched her toes. She’d left them bare, her socks and shoes tucked up neatly underneath the bed of her cabin. Unlike the launch from Earth, she wanted to be able to feel everything. The engines were still so silent, but the thrumming beneath her soles comforted her.