“NASA’s probably working on deflection, planning to use Orion—it’s the new capsule, nearly ready to go up and the propulsion is basically old-school Saturn tech. They’ve probably talked about suicide missions by now.” His mouth twisted up into an almost smile. “Of course, they’ve probably also talked about discovery missions, gathering as much information as possible about the rock before it kills us just for the sake of having it. They’re kind of crazy in a good way at NASA.”

“Crazy in a good way is good.”

They sat quietly for a moment. Charlie listened to her fiddler play “Whiskey” and agreed that a drink wasn’t a terrible idea.

Gary played with the left earpiece of his glasses. “Can you move the asteroid somewhere else?” he asked at last. “Like you moved me?”

“Somehow I doubt there’s a connection to the Wood in space. I need growing things, and space is kind of an absence of that.” Although, the Discovery Channel had been wrong about NASA. “It is, right? An absence of life?”

“As we know it, yeah.”

She stretched out her legs, her jeans beginning to damp up from the mist. “So tell me everything about your doctor friend.”

“Kiren Mehta? Why?”

“I need the details you don’t have and I’ll need her song to get to her.”

“You’ll need her what now? Wait, never mind.” Charlie could hear him breathing a little heavily but, all in all, Gary was dealing with the sudden change in his worldview remarkably well. Of course, he’d already dealt with the end of the world, so dealing with the Gales’ world was not that big a step, relatively speaking. “Promise me you won’t hurt her.”

“Why would I hurt her?”

“Vermont.” He waved a hand. “Creepy forest.” He waved the other hand. “Nova Scotia. You can see why I might be concerned.”

If a short trip concerned him, it was a good thing she hadn’t taken him home. The aunties would have sent him into full-fledged fight or flight. Although, in fairness, they had that effect on a lot of people. On purpose. “I won’t hurt her, but I suspect she’ll be more willing to share if I tell her you sent me.”

“Why can’t you take her through the Wood? It’s . . .” Words were considered and discarded in the pause. “. . . convincing.”

“Yeah, but you and I have history, however short, and she doesn’t know me. A hysterical reaction won’t produce anything worth listening to.”

“So tell her you found out from whoever you found out from. You know, your auntie who sees the future.”

“And a telepath being driven crazy by the voices in his head who lives on the street and is being hunted by the FBI.”