Nyota squeezed her hand in return, then stood and began to wander the room, taking in its decorations and the abundant photos of family members and elephant herds. “I appreciate all this, but it’s not bringing me any closer to understanding my connection to the vacuum flares. Unless there’s something in those subspace patterns. Are you sure I gave up on them completely? Did I ever give you any indication that I was researching something like them later on?”

“Like at the Academy?” M’Umbha considered. “You talked about a lot of things you did there—your studies, your gymnastics, your boyfriends.” She chuckled. “I think you tried to continue your own research projects when you could, but they kept you pretty busy.”

They spent some time trying to recall details from her stories about Academy life, or showing her letters and mementos she had sent them. She would have loved to take the time to pore through them all in detail, but she strove to focus on what was relevant to her mysterious subspace research. Yet nothing seemed to offer any clear connection to it.

“None of your Academy friends could offer any insights?” M’Umbha asked after a while.

“None that I could contact,” Nyota said. “A number of them have died in action over the years.” She leafed through the printouts resting on the table, though after reading them once, she knew them by heart. “Do you remember me talking about this ‘Jen’ person I mention in some of my correspondence? That one confuses me. I did mention a Jen sometimes in my personal logs, but I didn’t have any classmates named Jennifer, or Jendayi, or any likely alternative.”

Malcolm looked up. “Jen wasn’t a woman. It was… Rajendra, wasn’t it?”

“That’s right,” M’Umbha said. “Rajendra Shastri. You and he were good friends for a while. Yes, you told me that he was a fellow subspace ham growing up. You were in several of the same classes and worked together on various communication projects. If anyone knew something relevant, he might.”

Rajendra Shastri. The name was familiar, though not from her Academy days. Not long after Nomad, she had received several subspace messages from him asking when they could meet again and discuss “everything that happened.” She’d had no idea what he was referring to, but she’d felt such intense emotion at the sight of his name that she had avoided responding until she could sort things out.