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_For Bertha Merriman_
_A pioneer who lived in a tougher time…_
_With love from a grandchild_
*PROLOGUE: JOURNEY YEAR 753*
I stood on the lip of the southern borehole, clutching a service line, and, for the first time in my life, stared beyond the mass of Thistledown at the stars. They spread through deep space as many and sharp as a cloud of crystal snow blown against black onyx. The uncharted constellations spun with a stately haste, betraying the asteroid’s rotation around its long axis.
The worksuit performed its tasks silently, and for a time I seemed a point of crystal myself, at the center of the crystal empyrean, at peace. I looked for patterns in the stars, but before I could find any, my companion interrupted me.
“Olmy.” She pulled herself carefully along the line and floated beside me.
