More people entered through a hatch in the opposite side of the cabin in groups of four or five or six, children among them, until a small crowd faced the darkness and stars; Arthur estimated seventy or eighty. He seemed to recognize some from his time on the network, though that was hardly likely; all he had heard were their inner voices, which almost never matched physical appearance. He thought of Hicks's inner voice, robust and young and sharp, and of his white-haired, grandfatherly presence. I'm going to miss him. He could have helped us a lot here.

Arthur flashed on Harry, desiccated, decaying, buried deep in a coffin in the Earth; or had Ithaca had him cremated? That seemed to suit both of them better.

A tall young black man stood behind Arthur and Francine. Arthur nodded a greeting and the man returned the nod, cordial, dignified, terrified, his neck muscles taut as cords. Arthur examined the other faces, trying to learn something from the mix, how they had been chosen. Age? There Were few older than fifty; but then, these were just the ones who had chosen to witness. Race? All types found on North America were represented. Intelligence? There was no way to tell that ...

"We're in space, aren't we?" the tall young man asked. "That's what they said, I just didn't believe them. We're in space, and we're going to join with other arks soon. My name's Reuben," he said, offering his hand to Arthur. They shook. Reuben's hand was damp, but so was Arthur's. "This your son?"

"This is Martin," Arthur said. Reuben reached down and shook Marty's hand. Marty looked up at him solemnly, still sucking his lips. "And my wife, Francine."

"I don't know how to feel," Reuben said. "I don't know what's real and what isn't anymore."

Arthur agreed. He did not feel like talking.

Something flashed against the stars, turning in the sunlight, and then steadied and approached them. Francine pointed, awed. It was shaped like a huge, rounded arrowhead, flat on one side, contoured to a central ridge on the opposite side.

"That's Singapore," said a woman behind them. Not all of the network received information at once, Arthur decided; that made sense. It would have flooded them.

"Singapore," Reuben said, shaking his head. "I've never even been there."

"We have Istanbul and Cleveland," said a young man at one end of the cabin, hardly more than a boy.

The gray ship passed out of view above them. There was still no sensation of motion, nor any sound except for the murmurs and shuffling of the cabin's occupants. They might have been standing in an exhibit hall waiting for some spectacular new form of entertainment to begin.

The stars began to move all in one direction; the ark was rotating. Arthur searched for constellations he knew, and for a moment saw none; then he spotted the Southern Cross, and as the rotation continued, Orion.