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"Oh, who am I kidding?" Reyna said to herself in exasperation. "Witnessing a guest star was a great move, space. But - what - does that mean I'll find a way to send my walls into their own death throes?" Reyna laughed to herself at herown joke. She should try to remember that one to share it with Torvax later. Though he probably wouldn't get it.

But then her mind wandered, realizing what she just said, and thinking about the true symbolism behind it. But what was she doing? Was she really beginning to believe that the stars were telling her something? She felt as though she were bordering on a visit to Kess to have her brain examined, celebration be damned.

Reyna laughed again, but this time sounding a bit more forced. "Sure, the stars are telling you something, Solas." But despite her own chastising, something just wasn't letting her chastise it into oblivion.

Hmm.

NINE

ON A THURSDAY

EARTH YEAR 1989 / COALITION CYCLE 499

? SHELBYVILLE, INDIANA, UNITED STATES?

Helen Beckman died on a Thursday.

Which was just like her, to pick a day in the middle of the week that everyone usually looks over in anticipation of the day to come, not realizing how important Thursdays were to keep the whole world going.

? PASADENA, CALIFORNIA, UNITED STATES?

The years between Frank's death and Helen's diagnosis were, by most measures, the best years of Charlie Wickett's life.

Helen's original tests had come back normal. Charlie had checked in with her every day, just as she'd promised, until Helen finally told her all was well.

"I told you it was nothing to worry about, dear. You worry too much for someone so young!" Charlie covered the mouthpiece while holding the phone to her ear and looked at Katie. She was sitting cross-legged on the apartment couch with a textbook in her lap, but her eyes were on Charlie, searching for answers. Charlie gave her a thumbs-up, and Katie closed her eyes and exhaled.

Life kept moving.

Katie blazed through her undergrad at UCLA with the focus of a woman who had found her calling and refused to waste a single day of it. She graduated early, a full semester ahead of schedule, and was accepted into the graduate anthropology program without hesitation. She was even chosen by her program professor as the recipient of a full scholarship for her advanced degree work, once again ensuring that her education came to her without issue. All her professors described her as extraordinary, which Charlie could have told them when Katie was ten years old.

But there were stillmoments in those years that Charlie remembered for the rest of her life, and not always for reasons she wanted to remember.

Three months after Katie started at UCLA, Charlie and a group of her graduate cohort gathered in the Beckman Auditorium lounge at Caltech. It was a Tuesday morning in January of 1986, and they were planning to watch the launch of the Space Shuttle Challenger.

The room was electric. Graduate students and faculty packed the space, some standing along the walls, others sitting cross-legged on the floor. Someone had brought coffee and donuts.A professor had wheeled in the department's largest television. This wastheCaltech event, the launch of the twenty-fifth shuttle mission, carrying the first civilian into space. Christa McAuliffe, a high school teacher from New Hampshire, was going to teach a lesson from orbit, and the whole country was watching.

Charlie sat near the front with her knees pulled up, her eyes fixed on the screen. She could feel Frank's pin in her pocket. She thought about him and what he would have given to see this. A man who had spent his life maintaining the machines that carried people into the sky, watching a schoolteacher ride one into space. He would have been beside himself.

The group around her started to settle and the room got quiet. The sounds of mission control transmitted over the television, each station marking "go" when they were called out. The news anchors and commentators went silent as the directors in Houston instructed the rocket in Cape Canaveral. Finally, the mark came on the TV.

'We are go for launch. T-minus, ten, nine...' The room went silent, not a sound escaping from anyone. Hands stilled with donuts still enclosed in fingers, cups of coffee stayed straight as everyone's gaze focused in on the screen.

'Seven, six... We have main engine start...' Charlie could feel her heartbeat speeding up as the countdown ran down.

'Four, three...' Charlie was clutching her knees, afraid to blink, almost afraid to breathe.

The countdown reached zero.

'And we have liftoff! Liftoff of the 25th space shuttle mission and it has cleared the tower!' On the screen, the cameras panned as the spectators cheered and applauded. The camera returned to the launch, and the group watched as the solid rocket boosters ignited, the shuttle climbing into space.

'Start your roll, Challenger. Good roll program confirmed … Challenger now heading downrange.'

People around Charlie started to applaud, some hugging and clapping others on the back. Charlie knew some of the people in here were probably directly related to the success of the Challenger's launch. Caltech was consistently involved in the development of the NASA space program, and she was glad to be in a room of people celebrating this achievement.

'Engines beginning throttling down now at 94%. Velocity, 2250 feet per second. Altitude, 4.3 nautical miles, downrange distance three nautical miles.Challenger, go with throttle up. Roger… go with throttle up.'

Then a sound echoed through the television. One that silenced the room around her once again. But this time, it was in fear.