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"
Give
or
take
.
"
"
So
a
journey
from
one
side
of
the
Bubble
might
take
—
what
,
half
a
year
?
Say
five
or
six
months
?
A
year
to
the
Aquila
Rift
?
"
"
You
know
that
already
,
Greta
.
We
both
know
it
.
"
"
All
right
.
Then
consider
this
.
"
And
the
view
contracted
again
,
the
Bubble
dwindling
,
a
succession
of
overlaying
structures
concealing
it
,
darkness
coming
into
view
on
either
side
,
and
then
the
familiar
spiral
swirl
of
the
Milky
Way
Galaxy
looming
large
.
Hundreds
of
billions
of
stars
,
packed
together
into
foaming
white
lanes
of
sea
spume
.
"
This
is
the
view
,
"
Greta
said
.
"
Enhanced
of
course
,
brightened
and
filtered
for
human
consumption
—
but
if
you
had
eyes
with
near
-
perfect
quantum
efficiency
,
and
if
they
happened
to
be
about
a
metre
wide
,
this
is
more
or
less
what
you
’
d
see
if
you
stepped
outside
the
station
.
"
"
I
don
’
t
believe
you
.
"
What
I
meant
was
I
didn
’
t
want
to
believe
her
.
"
Get
used
to
it
,
Thom
.
You
’
re
a
long
way
out
.
The
station
’
s
orbiting
a
brown
dwarf
star
in
the
Large
Magellanic
Cloud
.
You
’
re
one
hundred
and
fifty
thousand
light
-
years
from
home
.
"
"
No
,
"
I
said
,
my
voice
little
more
than
a
moan
of
abject
,
childlike
denial
.
