“What makes you say that?”

“Uh, you mean besides flying into Darrin the way we did?”

“They’re just old, Cole. And they are my parent’s charts, so you need to talk nice to them.” She pouted, which drew a chuckle. “Besides, I just wanted them for the nostalgia; you shouldn’t be using them for navigational purposes.”

“I know, but look at this.” He pulled up an area around Menkar. “You see these stars here?”

Molly nodded and Cole continued, “This is from your parents’ charts, the ones that’ve been getting us in trouble.”

Molly shot him a look.

“Watch,” he said.

He clicked away at the keyboard as Molly turned back to her screen. The stars disappeared. “Hey, don’t delete them.”

“I didn’t. All I did was pull up the GN charts we bought from Albert.” He tapped his screen. “These stars aren’t in his charts at all. Any of them. I wouldn’t have noticed the difference, but this is the chart that leads back to Earth. I know it by heart, even at a glance.”

“What do you think it means?” Molly studied the chart on her own screen. “Could it be really old data? Could all three have gone nova since this chart was created?”

“Statistically unlikely, as Edison would say. And lemme zoom in, the stars have really weird names. Listen to this: Horton Hears a Who, The Cat in the Hat, Green Eggs and Ham. I know astrologers are a loopy crowd, but c’mon, have you ever heard star names that bizarre?”

Molly’s jaw dropped. She stared at the nav screen. “Actually, I have.”

“Yeah. Right.”

“I’m serious. Those are books my parents used to read to me, back before we left Lok and came to Earth.”

“Your parents read you books about these three stars?”

“No, genius, these stars must’ve been named after the books. In fact, I doubt the stars are real.” She looked back at the screen. “My parents must’ve inserted them on purpose.”

“Well that might explain the weirdest part. Watch this.”

Cole clicked on the triple star system and tried to open them up for inspection. Normally this would zoom in to another level of detail with orbiting planets, survey data, and cultural history. A standard text input box popped up instead.

NAME (FIRST/LAST):_

Molly backed her hands away from the computer. She’d never seen a dialog box on a star chart.

“I just found this a few hours ago,” Cole said. “I tried your name and each of your parents’ names. I was hopin’ to crack it before Walter got a chance and did it in, like, two seconds.”

“Did you put in Mortimor or Mortimus for my father’s name?”

“Both. I do pay attention to your stories, you know.”

Molly leaned forward and gave it a shot.

NAME (FIRST/LAST):WADE/LUCIN_

She hit enter, but nothing happened. Molly racked her brain, unable to think of anyone else this might’ve been meant for. Then it occurred to her. A name she’d long forgotten. “I know what it is,” she told Cole.

NAME (FIRST/LAST):DR/SEUSS_

She pressed the enter key. Again, nothing happened. She tried spelling out “Doctor” with the same result. She searched her memory but couldn’t remember the author’s first name, if he even had one.

“And you tried my name?” she asked.

“Yup.”

“Have you tried the names both ways?”

“Nope. It clearly says first then last. I tried with and without the slash, though.”

Molly nodded, then froze. Her own question had jarred loose an old fact: the Lokian spelling of her name, the one she’d been given at birth, changed later to conceal her planet of origin. This was her parents’ ship. If they put this in here for her to find, they would’ve used a spelling only the three of them knew.

Molly felt a tingle of excitement shiver through her. This was the secret she’d been hunting for, it had to be. And no wonder she couldn’t find it! The secret was just a bunch of 1’s and 0’s locked away in a computer.

She felt dizzy as she typed in the answer. In mere moments she would receive a message from her father. Something that would help the Navy end the Drenard War. Maybe enough to go to the Navy, explain Lucin’s death, and stop running. All this and more flashed through her head as she finished typing the answer:

NAME (FIRST/LAST):MOLLIE/FYDE_

She hit the enter key and waited for something to happen.

The nav screen went blank. The star charts disappeared. In their place sat a green phosphorous cursor. Flashing. Letters spilled forth, one at a time, as if someone were typing them.

MOLLIE?­_

She glanced at Cole, expecting to find his fingers at the keys. He stared back at her, his brows coming together. “Someone must be connected to us through a nearby relay station,” he said, but not with conviction. “Or Walter is playing with us.” He unplugged his flightsuit and cast off his harness.

Molly put a hand on his chest, holding him in place. She typed a response.

THIS IS MOLLIE­_

She hesitated to press the enter key this time. None of this made sense; the secret had to be something else. She hit the button.

MOLLIE. THIS IS PARSONA. YOUR MOTHER_

The words flowed out from left to right in a steady stream. The impossible nature of them punched her in the gut. The screen went a little out of focus.

“I’m going to kill him,” Cole said, pushing up from his chair.

Molly turned to him, trying to convince herself by convincing him. “Cole, there’s only two people besides me that spelled my name that way. And both of them are dead. Do you think—?”

“Not even Lucin?”

“No, my parents would’ve taken that to the grave. And who would even care to know? It was just to avoid the xenophobia wild in those days.”

“Maybe—” Cole began, but the computer interrupted.

WHERE WERE YOU BORN, MOLLIE?_

Both of them looked at each other again. “Shouldn’t she know?” Cole asked.

Molly wasn’t listening. She was inputting the answer.

LOK_

As soon as she hit the enter key, the next question coursed across the screen.

SPECIFICALLY_

She typed, absorbed in the conversation as if it were real.

IN THE COMMONS OF A SMALL VILLAGE_

A few heartbeats elapsed . . . then:

WHAT WAS THE NAME OF THE VILLAGE?_

“Molly? What’s going on?”

“I don’t know. Hold on a sec.”

IT DIDN’T HAVE A NAME_

Their screen went blank. Then:

MOLLIE_

The typing paused for a second, the curser flashing as if it needed to think. Then it continued:

I NEED TO ASK YOU FOR A FAVOR. A LARGE ONE. IT WILL REQUIRE A LOT OF TRUST. THERE WILL BE MANY DANGERS INVOLVED_

Molly reached over and gripped Cole’s hand in hers. She squeezed it and pecked at the keyboard with one finger, blinking away the hope that this may actually, somehow, be her mother she was conversing with.

ANYTHING_ she typed.

She pressed the enter key once more. And when the response came—Molly sobbed once, then caught her breath. She read the message over and over again, her right hand crushing Cole’s.

The words stood there in green phosphor. Impossible and promising:

I NEED YOU TO HELP ME RESCUE YOUR FATHER_