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"Think hard," he said.
"I only know one way to think," said Jane.
"I mean, pay attention to it."
She could follow many trains of thought at once, but her thoughts were prioritized, with many different levels of attention. Miro didn't want her relegating her self-investigation to some low order of attention.
"I'll pay attention," she said.
"Then you'll think of something," he said. "You will."
She didn't answer for a while. He thought this meant that the conversation was over. His thoughts began to wander. To try to imagine what life would be like, still in this body, only without Jane. It could happen before he even arrived on Lusitania. And if it did, this voyage would have been the most terrible mistake of his life. By traveling at lightspeed, he was skipping thirty years of realtime. Thirty years that might have been spent with Jane. He might be able to deal with losing her then. But losing her now, only a few weeks into knowing her--he knew that his tears arose from self-pity, but he shed them all the same.
"Miro," she said.
"What?" he asked.
"How can I think of something that's never been thought of before?"
For a moment he didn't understand.
"Miro, how can I figure out something that isn't just the logical conclusion of things that human beings have already figured out and written somewhere?"
"You think of things all the time," said Miro.
"I'm trying to conceive of something inconceivable. I'm trying to find answers to questions that human beings have never even tried to ask."
"Can't you do that?"
"If I can't think original thoughts, does that mean that I'm nothing but a computer program that got out of hand?"
"Hell, Jane, most people never have an original thought in their lives." He laughed softly. "Does that mean they're just ground-dwelling apes that got out of hand?"
"You were crying," she said.
"Yes."
"You don't think I can think of a way out of this. You think I'm going to die."
"I believe you can think of a way. I really do. But that doesn't stop me from being afraid."
"Afraid that I'll die."
"Afraid that I'll lose you."
"Would that be so terrible? To lose me?"
"Oh God," he whispered.
"Would you miss me for an hour?" she insisted. "For a day? For a year?"
; What did she want from him? Assurance that when she was gone she'd be remembered? That someone would yearn for her? Why would she doubt that? Didn't she know him yet?
Maybe she was human enough that she simply needed reassurance of things she already knew.
"Forever," he said.
