Then, at the bottom, two words. Call me.

Well, it turned out it was possible for a metal man to be terrified. Call that proven.

Ivan picked up the phone, selected audio only, and dialed home.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Judy, it’s me.”

“Oh, God, I’m glad you called. I can’t—when I try to write an email, it just comes out sounding like a diary. I wanted—”

“I understand, babe. Email’s good for relaying facts, but there’s too much time to think. Let’s just keep it this way. Email for updates, phone for us.”

“And the kids?”

“And the kids, if we can arrange a time.”

“You’re not going to turn on video?”

“Judy, it would terrify the kids. And it would make you cry, and then I’d want to cry, and I—”

“What?”

“Never mind. Just think of me as having advanced leprosy and my face is falling off.”

“Thanks, Bud. Now I’ve got that image in my head.”

They laughed together. It felt good. Like the old Judy and Ivan, always on the same wavelength.

“Listen, Ivan, there are rumors.”

“Oh?”

“Some ship has been placed in quarantine. There’s a disease, or an alien. Details are all over the place. But something’s getting out to the public.”

That was bad. That could be really bad. Ivan had seen food riots. He understood what fear and helplessness could do. “Wow. And we haven’t even arrived yet. Listen, Judy, you know our deal…”

“Most paranoid wins?”

“Yeah.”

He and Judy had made a deal early in their marriage. In any situation, whether it involved the children’s health, or money, or anything, whoever was the most concerned got priority. If one of them thought a doctor should be called, then a doctor would be called. If one of them thought a situation was dangerous, they’d leave.

“No one knows about the money yet, right? Keep it that way. As soon as escrow is removed, I want you to very quietly move. But quickly. Don’t leave any more forwarding information than you have to.”

“Ivan, what’s going on?”

“Nothing yet, babe. Nothing specific. But those rumors—I think they’re going to get worse. This could get really badly unshiny. And I think it’d be bad for a while.”

“Why?”

“Judy, I went to the common room a while back, to get a coffee. No one would talk to me, or look at me, or anything. These are people who know me. Some of them are friends. Or were. How do you think the average guy on the street is going to react?”

“Ivan, you aren’t a monster.”

“Well, that’s the thing, babe. I kind of am.”

Judy was silent for a moment. “Are you different? Inside? Or anything?”

“No, still me, just a new paint job. But that’s not the way people will see it.”