At first it was a small thing, a discrepancy, a set of coordinates not logged in the main computer. Someone had taken this ship somewhere, and they hadn’t wanted their bosses to know. It could have been anything really. But then I saw it again, buried in some circuitry down long halls in the depths of a cargo hauler, the same coordinates. I checked the star maps and found nothing there.

It was winter, when the icicles collected themselves that I first had the idea. It had been a long time coming. One by one they came clattering down under the relative warmth of the winter sun. I am going to go home. I said it to myself first alone where the idea could have just as soon flown off into the distance. But then, again, in close company around the glow of artificial light, again the words came out, shattering against the ground.

Author’s note: despite sharing the same name the characters of Zoe and Robin are most definitely not me. She was lucky that I even answered the phone. “Hello,” I said, still half asleep and squinting at the bright column of light pouring in through the window. “Now listen to me very carefully because it is damn hard to make a call like this,” her voice cut sharply through the background static, “You’re me, and I’m you but from a world where things go just a little bit differently.