She carried the champagne into the kitchen, opened it, and poured two glasses. Her trip to the galactic center the previous year had been the first actual mission performed with the Locarno drive. It had a capability to cover almost 286 light-years in a day. So travel time tended to be short. At least, shorter than it used to be. But there was a downside: The transdimensional world through which the ships had to pass was absolutely without light. There was no sense of movement by the vehicle. If he was going to extend an invitation to head out for Calliope, which seemed the only reasonable purpose for his visit, she’d be stuck inside the thing for almost the better part of a month with nothing to do but watch movies and read. That would get old pretty quickly. She sighed, took the glasses back into the living room, and handed one to Derek.

He raised it and smiled. “To the world’s best interstellar pilot,” he said.

Hutch allowed her discomfort to show. She touched his glass with her own, thanked him, and sipped the champagne. It was dry, with a slightly sour touch and a lot of bubbles. He’d spent some money on it. “So, what can I do for you, Derek?” she asked.

“I’m sure you know that the Barry Eiferman is out on a mission, but we expect it back in a few days. We’ll need a little time to service it, and then we’re going to turn it around.”

“You’re sending it out to look for the source of the waterfall?”

“Yes. We want you to be its captain.” He glanced around the room. At pictures of her and Tor seated on the Memphis bridge. At pictures of Maureen at her college graduation and Charlie in a baseball uniform. “We’ll make it worth your while.”

“How much?”

“Three hundred thousand.”

She tried not to let her surprise show. She’d never received anything remotely like that before. A sudden burst of wind rattled the windows. “They’re expecting snow tonight,” she said. Then: “When will it be leaving?”

“In a couple of weeks. Can we count on you? You’re our first choice. We need somebody who’s had experience with the Locarno.”

“Derek, you have other people who’ve operated with it.”

“Yes. We have. But it’s more than that. You’ve had a few tricky encounters and come through them in pretty good shape. We have no idea what’s out there at Calliope.” He paused. “We need someone with a history of making the right calls under pressure.”

“What actually would be the objective? Just find out what’s there and come home?”