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Except
,
of
course
,
it
wasn
’
t
God
.
It
was
a
supernova
,
about
a
million
years
ago
.
Look
further
out
,
and
there
are
more
bubbles
,
their
walls
intersecting
and
merging
,
forming
a
vast
froth
-
like
structure
tens
of
thousands
of
light
-
years
across
.
There
are
the
structures
of
Loop
I
and
Loop
II
and
the
Lindblad
Ring
.
There
are
even
superdense
knots
where
the
dust
is
almost
too
thick
to
be
seen
through
at
all
.
Black
cauls
like
the
Taurus
or
Rho
-
Ophiuchi
dark
clouds
,
or
the
Aquila
Rift
itself
.
Lying
outside
the
Local
Bubble
,
the
Rift
is
the
furthest
point
in
the
galaxy
we
’
ve
ever
travelled
to
.
It
’
s
not
a
question
of
endurance
or
nerve
.
There
simply
isn
’
t
a
way
to
get
beyond
it
,
at
least
not
within
the
faster
-
than
-
light
network
of
the
aperture
links
.
The
rabbit
-
warren
of
possible
routes
just
doesn
’
t
reach
any
further
.
Most
destinations
—
including
most
of
those
on
the
Blue
Goose
’
s
itinerary
—
didn
’
t
even
get
you
beyond
the
Local
Bubble
.
For
us
,
it
didn
’
t
matter
.
There
’
s
still
a
lot
of
commerce
you
can
do
within
a
hundred
light
-
years
of
Earth
.
But
Schedar
was
right
on
the
periphery
of
the
Bubble
,
where
dust
density
began
to
ramp
up
to
normal
galactic
levels
,
two
hundred
and
twenty
-
eight
light
-
years
from
Mother
Earth
.
Again
:
not
good
.
"
I
know
this
is
a
shock
for
you
,
"
another
voice
said
.
"
But
it
’
s
not
as
bad
as
you
think
it
is
.
"
*
*
*
I
looked
at
the
woman
who
had
just
spoken
.
Medium
height
,
the
kind
of
face
they
called
‘
elfin
’
,
with
slanted
,
ash
-
gray
eyes
and
a
bob
of
shoulder
-
length
,
chrome
-
white
hair
.
The
face
achingly
familiar
.
"
It
isn
’
t
?
"
