Tamara Menser sat by an open window. She leaned into the breeze, listening to the interview on her monitor. An empty mug sat on the windowsill, Tamara picked it up from time to time.

“They buried Gene on the moon,” the lady was saying.

“No, that’s—The burial site’s a crater. His remains went up on the Prospector in ‘98, and went down into a crater they named after him… Yes, about 1.6 years.”

The muffled voice of the interviewer asked another question, and the woman replied, succinctly and efficiently.

“Another probe. Looking for polar ice, which was Gene’s big dream.”

“Yes, in both poles. Well, they found hydrogen, and it looked like water should be there.”

Tamara settled back into her chair again, and stretched her legs out in front of her.

“His dissertation? The Barringer Crater—I heard enough about it….”

“What’s that? Yes, in Arizona.”

“Yes, he did. He graduated two years early from CalTech. He was… sixteen. Class of ‘48.”

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“Yes, he probably was the youngest.”

“Scientists were most interested in continuing the investigations into the signs of water ice on the Moon found by the Clementine probe.”

With a sigh Tamara turned the volume down, but left the interview running.

“Come in.”

It was Gunther. “I booked your flight,” he said from the doorframe.

“Where’d you find her?”

“Her?” Gunther squinted interview. “She doesn’t look that way anymore”

“Where is she?”

“New York, and I got you a driver, too.”

“When do I go?”

“Tomorrow morning. But there’s a problem. She lives in a group home.”

“A condo?”

“No it’s a home for folks mental illnesses, and it’s not clear if she’s staff—”

“So it might be difficult to visit her.”

“It might be illegal.”

“Oh.” Tamara unzipped her briefcase and slipped the tickets inside.

Gunther tipped his hat. “If you go, don’t make a scene.”

“Oh please.”

“I wouldn’t be worried if it was just you out there.”

“You think someone else might be watching?”

He shrugged. “There’s been signs.”

“Well.” Tamara reached for the stack of papers on her desk. “You don’t seem that worried.”

“Yeah. I’m not. ‘Cause the trail’s cold, but…” He shook his head.

Now she understood. “But we’re on it.”

“Yeah. And we’ve been on it.”