“Exactly.”
“But… but it would take over two million years to get there.”
“Only from Earth’s—excuse me, from Soror’s—point of view,” said Ling. “We could do it in less subjective time than we’ve already been traveling, and, of course, we’d spend all that time in cryogenic freeze.”
“None of our ships have cryogenic chambers,” Bokket said. “There’s no need for them.”
“We could transfer the chambers from the Pioneer Spirit.”
Bokket shook his head. “It would be a one-way trip; you’d never come back.”
“That’s not true,” I said. “Unlike most galaxies, Andromeda is actually moving toward the Milky Way, not away from it. Eventually, the two galaxies will merge, bringing us home.”
“That’s billions of years in the future.”
“Thinking small hasn’t done us any good so far,” said Ling.
Bokket frowned. “I said before that we can afford to support you and your shipmates here on Soror, and that’s true. But starships are expensive. We can’t just give you one.”
“It’s got to be cheaper than supporting all of us.”
“No, it’s not.”
“You said you honored us. You said you stand on our shoulders. If that’s true, then repay the favor. Give us an opportunity to stand on your shoulders. Let us have a new ship.”
Bokket sighed; it was clear he felt we really didn’t understand how difficult Ling’s request would be to fulfill. “I’ll do what I can,” he said.
Ling and I spent that evening talking, while blue-and-green Soror spun majestically beneath us. It was our job to jointly make the right decision, not just for ourselves but for the four dozen other members of the Pioneer Spirit’s complement that had entrusted their fate to us. Would they have wanted to be revived here?
No. No, of course not. They’d left Earth to found a colony; there was no reason to think they would have changed their minds, whatever they might be dreaming. Nobody had an emotional attachment to the idea of Tau Ceti; it just had seemed a logical target star.
“We could ask for passage back to Earth,” I said.
“You don’t want that,” said Ling. “And neither, I’m sure, would any of the others.”
“No, you’re right,” I said. “They’d want us to go on.”
Ling nodded. “I think so.”
“Andromeda?” I said, smiling. “Where did that come from?”
She shrugged. “First thing that popped into my head.”
“Andromeda,” I repeated, tasting the word some more. I remembered how thrilled I was, at sixteen, out in the California desert, to see that little oval smudge below Cassiopeia for the first time. Another galaxy, another island universe—and half again as big as our own. “Why not?” I fell silent but, after a while, said, “Bokket seems to like you.”
Ling smiled. “I like him.”
“Go for it,” I said.
“What?” She sounded surprised.
“Go for it, if you like him. I may have to be alone until Helena is revived at our final destination, but you don’t have to be. Even if they do give us a new ship, it’ll surely be a few weeks before they can transfer the cryochambers.”
Ling rolled her eyes. “Men,” she said, but I knew the idea appealed to her.
Bokket was right: the Sororian media seemed quite enamored with Ling and me, and not just because of our exotic appearance—my white skin and blue eyes; her dark skin and epicanthic folds; our two strange accents, both so different from the way people of the thirty-third century spoke. They also seemed to be fascinated by, well, by the pioneer spirit.
When the quarantine was over, we did go down to the planet. The temperature was perhaps a little cooler than I’d have liked, and the air a bit moister—but humans adapt, of course. The architecture in Soror’s capital city of Pax was surprisingly ornate, with lots of domed roofs and intricate carvings. The term “capital city” was an anachronism, though; government was completely decentralized, with all major decisions done by plebiscite— including the decision about whether or not to give us another ship.
Bokket, Ling, and I were in the central square of Pax, along with Kari Deetal, Soror’s president, waiting for the results of the vote to be announced. Media representatives from all over the Tau Ceti system were present, as well as one from Earth, whose stories were always read 11.9 years after he filed them. Also on hand were perhaps a thousand spectators.
“My friends,” said Deetal, to the crowd, spreading her arms, “you have all voted, and now let us share in the results.” She tipped her head slightly, and a moment later people in the crowd started clapping and cheering.
Ling and I turned to Bokket, who was beaming. “What is it?” said Ling. “What decision did they make?”
Bokket looked surprised. “Oh, sorry. I forgot you don’t have web implants. You’re going to get your ship.”
Ling closed her eyes and breathed a sigh of relief. My heart was pounding.
President Deetal gestured toward us. “Dr. MacGregor, Dr. Woo—would you say a few words?”
We glanced at each other then stood up. “Thank you,” I said looking out at everyone.
Ling nodded in agreement. “Thank you very much.”
A reporter called out a question. “What are you going to call your new ship?”
Ling frowned; I pursed my lips. And then I said, “What else? The Pioneer Spirit II.”
The crowd erupted again.
Finally, the fateful day came. Our official boarding of our new starship—the one that would be covered by all the media—wouldn’t happen for another four hours, but Ling and I were nonetheless heading toward the airlock that joined the ship to the station’s outer rim. She wanted to look things over once more, and I wanted to spend a litde time just sitting next to Helena’s cryochamber, communing with her.
And, as we walked, Bokket came running along the curving floor toward us.
“Ling,” he said, catching his breath. “Toby.”
I nodded a greeting. Ling looked slightly uncomfortable; she and Bokket had grown close during the last few weeks, but they’d also had their time alone last night to say their goodbyes. I don’t think she’d expected to see him again before we left.
“I’m sorry to bother you two,” he said. “I know you’re both busy, but…” He seemed quite nervous.
“Yes?” I said.
He looked at me, then at Ling. “Do you have room for another passenger?”
Ling smiled. “We don’t have passengers. We’re colonists.”
“Sorry,” said Bokket, smiling back at her. “Do you have room for another colonist?”
“Well, there are four spare cryochambers, but…” She looked at me.
“Why not?” I said, shrugging.
“It’s going to be hard work, you know,” said Ling, turning back to Bokket. “Wherever we end up, it’s going to be rough.”
Bokket nodded. “I know. And I want to be part of it.”
Ling knew she didn’t have to be coy around me. “That would be wonderful,” she said. “But—but why?”
Bokket reached out tentatively, and found Ling’s hand. He squeezed it gently, and she squeezed back. “You’re one reason,” he said.
“Got a thing for older women, eh?” said Ling. I smiled at that.
Bokket laughed. “I guess.”
“You said I was one reason,” said Ling.
He nodded. “The other reason is—well, it’s this: I don’t want to stand on the shoulders of giants.” He paused, then lifted his own shoulders a little, as if acknowledging that he was giving voice to the sort of thought rarely spoken aloud. “I want to be a giant.”