After many months, an old galactic map, one of millions, appeared. Our home planet wasn’t on it. Predicting Blue’s exact location was difficult because gravitational pull from nearby planets was bending light, creating inaccurate galactic charts. At our current rate, we would die of old age long before reaching our final destination. I banged my fist on the arm of the chair, frustrated.

Darwin glanced at me. In his eyes, icons saying that he understood my disappointment separated.

In front of our ship, a wormhole opened.

I stood, amazed. “What caused that?”

Darwin waved his hand across a screen, retrieving archives. “Unknown.”

Exp 2 entered the hole, a structure without any light. Without warning, we came out of it. The ship veered port, then went by the edge of a huge asteroid belt filled with huge meteors.

My stomach muscles relaxed, because we were less likely to collide with them. Sometimes I felt as if we were living on borrowed time. In a few days or months, asteroid dust would hit our space vessel and tear it apart.

Within hours, I entered my office and sat down. Someone had recently placed a small glass cube on my desk. Inside the cube, a 3 D rose blossomed. Next to the rose, there was a handwritten note.

Greg,

Why don’t you spend more time with me?

Love, Irea

What could I give my lover to show her how much I loved having her around? I wasn’t sure. There was another problem. If I didn’t give my full attention to the ship, it would go off course.

On my vtp, Jen’s face, an incoming call, enlarged.

She narrowed her eyes, concentrating. “Exp Two is creating flight paths, routes based on neutrinos. But I can’t tell if these flight paths will lead us toward Blue because it isn’t showing up on any charts.

“We’re still a long way from Alpha Centauri A. At our current rate, we’ll reach Blue in eighty years.”

I flinched. “Keep me posted.”