Anlyn gazed back out the window, imagining the way she would set things up if she were expecting an attack. Edison was right. Her side of the rift was purely defensive, and she couldn’t help but think that way. For generations, her people had held the lines, learning how to build trenches that never budged. This side was all seek-and-destroy.

“It still doesn’t make sense to leave in such a hurry,” she said. “You think they just jumped into a star because it gave them a way around our barrier? Then why didn’t we hear about them from Bishar? Surely if an invasion had begun he’d have been notified by the Circle.”

“You’ve stated the exact quandary I’ve been pondering.”

Edison came over and rested a hand on Anlyn’s shoulder. “What be-comes of interstellar craft that hyperjump into preexisting mass?”

Anlyn shrugged and lifted her empty hands, palm up. “They disap-pear?”

“Precisely, but to what location?”

“Nobody knows—they never come back.”

“Include this variable: assume the Bern determined a reliable method for returning.”

“Returning from where?”

“Hyperspace.”

Anlyn frowned. “Hyperspace isn’t a place, though, is it? It’s just a made-up name. An idea.”

“That is one possibility, statistically likely, perhaps. However, some-thing interconnects point A to all possible point C’s. Travel requires existence. Movement must be analog, not digital. Objects occupy all states between.”

Anlyn scrunched up her face, trying to follow along. “The point B’s, you mean?”

“Correct. It’s not theoretically impossible that myriad such points constitute a physical place hyperjumpers travel through. If that sup-position is correct, one logical conclusion could also explain—”

“What happens to bad navigators,” Anlyn finished for him. “So, if you accidentally jump into another object, you get inside hyperspace and you can’t come out. Like something is blocking your way.”

“Theoretically,” Edison said.

“Okay, so you’re stuck somewhere. Won’t your oxygen run out?”

“Probably. Perhaps hyperspace consists of a junkyard of failed navigational attempts, derelict ships drifting throughout a large void similar to the vacuum of space but without the stars. Survivors could temporarily resort to looting, taking by force oxygen and spares from recent arrivals—”

Anlyn laughed. “Is this a real theory, or an idea for a holovid? Sounds to me like wishful thinking on your part.”

“Incorrect. I’m being scientifically rational—”

“I can totally see you as a hyperspace pirate,” Anlyn said, squeezing his arm. “You’d be ferocious, and have the best ship with all these spare parts cobbled together. And a peg-leg!”

Edison flashed his teeth. “Humorous visual, but I am being unbiased and logical. Dwell on the theory and compare it to our observations. The Bern deduced something new about hyperspace, found a primal door that opens all others. Is that not what hyperspace is?”

“Nobody knows what hyperspace is,” Anlyn said.