They all knew better than to argue with the pilot. Agata returned to her room and sat at her desk, skimming through the reports of her work that Lila would be receiving shortly – and then presumably sending back to herself at some time just after the system started operating. As they’d drawn closer to the Peerless, Agata had considered withholding her results from the transmission – hoping that she might yet complete the analysis of the curved vacuum on her own, even if it meant working in isolation in the mountain for another few years. In the end, though, that had seemed petty and mean-spirited. She’d grown tired of struggling on and on without any feedback from her peers. Now she would learn in an instant what the collective effort of the physics community had achieved over the last three years, as they argued over the significance of the diagram calculus – improving it, extending it, or maybe even refuting it entirely. She couldn’t decide whether to be terrified or exhilarated, but even if her methods had been excoriated, torn apart and rebuilt entirely, they could only have been replaced by something better. Whatever the final synthesis was, it would have to be spectacular.

When Tarquinia announced that Azelio’s call was coming through, instead of taking it in his own cabin he invited everyone to join him at the main console.

‘Uncle?’

Agata shivered at the sound of Luisa’s voice, unmistakably older but still not a woman’s. It would have felt less strange if it hadn’t changed at all.

Azelio said, ‘I’m here! How are you, my darling?’

‘I’m fine. We got your messages from after you arrived. We’ve played them over and over.’

‘That’s wonderful.’ Azelio looked lost for a moment. ‘Did you know we had a Hurtler scrape the side of the hull? Tarquinia went flying out into the void, and Agata had to go out and rescue her.’

‘No!’ Luisa was impressed, but a little miffed as well. ‘Why didn’t you tell us that before?’

‘I didn’t want you worrying. But everyone’s safe – you’ll see us all soon.’

‘I know,’ Luisa replied, mystified that he’d feel any need to point this out.

‘Yes.’ Azelio was struggling again: what was worth saying now, if he’d need to omit it from the great homecoming message in order to keep it from sounding stale? ‘Is your brother there?’

‘He didn’t want to come.’ This time Luisa seemed unsurprised by Azelio’s ignorance.

‘Tell him that’s all right,’ Azelio replied. ‘I can understand if he didn’t feel like talking this way.’

There was a long pause. ‘You already told him that yourself.’

An older, male voice came over the link. ‘Azelio?’

‘Girardo! How are you, Uncle?’