She tried reading for an hour, watched an old comedy (listening to the recorded audience laughter and applause echo through the ship), made herself a drink, went back to the gym, worked out, showered, and returned to the bridge.

She asked Bill to come back, and they played a couple of games of chess.

“Do you know anyone at Renaissance?” he asked.

“Not that I’m aware of.” A few of the names on the roster were vaguely familiar, probably passengers on other flights. They were astrophysicists, for the most part. A few mathematicians. A couple of data technicians. Some maintenance people. A chef. She wondered which was the young man with the luminous eyes.

They live pretty well, she thought.

A chef. A physician.

A teacher.

A—

She stopped. A teacher?

“Bill, what possible use would they have for a teacher?”

“I don’t know, Hutch. It does seem strange.”

A chill worked its way down her spine. “Get Renaissance on the circuit.”

A minute later, the technician with the eyes reappeared. He turned the charm on again, but this time she wasn’t having any. “You have a Monte DiGrazio at the station. He’s listed as a teacher. Would you tell me what he teaches?”

He was gazing wistfully at her while he waited for her transmission to arrive.

“What are you thinking?” asked Bill. He was seated in a leather armchair in a book-lined study. In the background she could hear a fire crackling.

She started to answer but let it trail off.

The technician heard her question and looked puzzled. “He teaches math and science. Why do you care?”

Hutch grumbled at her stupidity. Ask the question right, dummy. “Do you have dependents on board? How many people are there altogether?”