“Dark matter, dark energy. Ninety-five percent of the universe is made up of this stuff, and we don’t even know what it is,” I say. “We know what it’s not—a little, anyway. But most of the universe is dark matter, and it’s a total mystery. A dark force pulling galaxies apart, causing the entire universe to expand. It’s infuriating! And awesome.”

He grins. “And you’re gonna find out.”

“I don’t know. I want to be up there.” I point toward the sky. “Most astronomy- and cosmology-based research is done on Earth. You don’t need to get in a rocket to observe how dark matter affects the gravitational forces of distant galaxies.” I swallow. “My dad was a theoretical physicist—you probably know that.”

Ben runs a finger over one of the pineapples on my knee, and I like that very much. “I do, yes.”

He’s gone and I can feel it, like my space helmet’s been ripped right off my head. Someone at the funeral said Dad was dancing with neutrinos now. I think they were trying to help.

“We had a plan,” I say. “He was going to do all the research down here—subatomic particle stuff, you know—and I would be up there and fill in the blanks. They’ve got an instrument on the International Space Station right now that’s hunting cosmic rays. It’s called the Alpha Magnetic Spectrometer. It’s measuring the subatomic particles in space, but also studying the Big Bang, formation of the universe—all the good stuff. It hasn’t found anything my dad would consider significant yet, but it—or an instrument like it—might. Very few people have the ISS on their radar for dark matter research right now, but in ten years—who knows? If we could somehow get an axion magnetic detector on the ISS, that could really be something, but you need such a large magnetic field, and obviously that could endanger the ISS itself. So that might not be a viable option. Anyway, I figure that someone on the ISS has to make sure dark matter instruments are working properly and perhaps work with some of the data. Maybe by the time I apply they’ll need me. Or a pilot, anyway.”

“A pilot.”

“To fly whatever Nate builds me to get to the ISS.”

He stares at me. “I’m trying really hard not to be intimidated right now. Did you just tell me you’re going to be studying the nature of the universe while also flying the rockets themselves?”

I bite back a smile. “I have a better chance of being an astronaut candidate if I’ve got naval aviation experience.”

“Like … a fighter pilot?”