Valerie had said nothing as she shuffled the last few steps to the airlock, and Naomi had offered no words of her own. Valerie’s head disappeared into the capsule. The crew had already said their goodbyes to Lebedeva, and the Russian had gone beyond simply tolerating their embraces—she’d clutched each of them tight, thumping their backs. Naomi would miss her.

The next time Naomi would see Valerie, they’d be on opposite sides of a courtroom.

As they waited for the go-ahead for the rest of them to head back down, Naomi spent hours in the observation room, nursing Grace, drinking it all in.

As she, Hart, and Hixon prepared to take the shuttle back down, her reserve grew. She’d shied away from the chance to be on Cole’s documentary, but now everyone knew her and her daughter’s name. A photo Naomi had reluctantly taken of Grace floating in the bridge, backlit by stars, had been the cover of countless articles.

Grace was still a baby, not a symbol. There was little Naomi could do to protect her from the burning spotlight of fame, but she would try.

The day came. It was time to go home.

“Grace is going to hate this,” Hart said as they tied up the last of their possessions into the shuttle and then finished suiting up. “When we were last in this thing, I did not expect to be heading back down with a crying baby.”

“Me neither,” Naomi said.

“God, I can’t wait to eat crunchy, crumbly toast,” Hixon said. “And fresh, melted butter. Well, margarine.”

“Stop it,” Hart said. “I’m hungry enough.”

They’d had a more varied diet since Lebedeva had sent up a shuttle of supplies. They’d hopefully never have to eat another nutriblock again. Still, it wasn’t the same.

Naomi had taken a last walk through the Atalanta that morning, and it had been so strange to see the lights low, the crops of her lab all harvested. The ship had already had the air of being uninhabited. It wouldn’t be for long. Mechanics would arrive imminently, to check it all over. The ship might still very well go to Cavendish, but the women wouldn’t be on it.

Earth still likely had an expiration date. That exploratory nature that humans had had since they’d first sailed off towards a distant horizon, not knowing if they’d fall off the end of the Earth, was still within them. They’d spread out across the galaxy, if they didn’t self-destruct first. It was only a matter of when.

They finished suiting up. Grace was mercifully still asleep. The poor thing had no idea what was to come.