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transcendent: the year-captain sees once again the i n finite reverberating waves of energy that sweep through the grayness, out there where the contin uum is flattened and curved by the nospace field so that the starship can slide with such deceptive ease and swiftness across the great span of light-years. What lies beyond the ship is neither a blank wall nor an empty tube; the Intermundium is a stunnin g prof u sion of interlocking energy fields, linking everything to everything; it is music that also is light, it is light that also is music, and those aboard the ship are sentient particles wholly enmeshed in that vast all-engulfing reverberation, that radi ant song of gladness, that is the universe. When he peers into that field of light it is manifestly clear to the year-captain that he and all his fellow voyagers are journeying joyously toward the center of all things, giving themselves gladly into the ca r e of cosmic forces far surpassing human control and understanding.
    He presses his hands against the cool glass. He puts his face close to it.
    What do I see, what do I feel, what am I experiencing?
    It is instant revelation, every time. The sight of that shi mmering void might well be frightening, a stunning forcible reminder that they are outside the universe, separated from all that is familiar and indeed “ r e al,” floating in this vacant place where the rules of space and time were suspended. But the year-cap tain finds nothing frightening in that knowledge. None of the voyagers do. It is — almost, almost! — the sought-after oneness. Barriers remain, but yet he is aware of an altered sense of space and time, an enhanced sense of possibility, an encounter with the a wesome something that lurks in the vacancies between the spokes of the cosmos, something majestic and powerful; he knows that that something is part of himself, and he is part of it. When he stands at the viewplate he often yearns to open the ship ’ s great hatch and let hi m self tumble into the eternal. But not yet, not yet. He is far from ready to swim the galactic Intermundium. Barriers remain. The voyage has only begun. They grow closer every day to whatever it is that they are see k ing, but the voyage has only begun.
    How could we convey any of this to those who remain behind? How could we make them understand?
    Not with words. Never with words.
    Let them come out here and see for themselves!
    He smiles. He trembles and does a little shivering wriggle of deligh t. His sudden new doubts all have fallen away, as swiftly as they came. The starship plunges onward through the great strange night. Confidence rises in him like the surging of a tide. The outcome of the voyage can only be a success, come what may.
    He turn s away from the viewplate, drained, ecstatic.
    ***
    Noelle was the first member of the crew to be chosen, if indeed she could be said to have been chosen at all. Choice had not really been a part of it for her, nor for her sister. The entire project had been built about their initial willingness; had they not been who and what they were, the expedition would probably have gone forth anyway, but it would have been something quite different. Perhaps it would not have happened at all. The mere existence of Noel l e and Yvonne was the pr e requisite for the whole enterprise. They were central to everything; their consent was mainly a formality; and, once it had been determined that Noelle and not Yvonne would be the one actually to travel on board the ship, her examin ation for eligibility was a mere charade.
    Of those who had truly volunteered, Heinz was the first to win the formal approval of the Board, Paco was the second, Sylvia the third, then Bruce, Huw, Chang, Julia. The year-captain was one of the last to pass th rough the qualification process. The last one of all, technically, was Noelle, but of course she was already a part of the project, as much so as the ship itself, and for many of the same reasons.
    For each of