: Prompting Needed_

Center Point

"Do you see it?"

"What? Where?"

"There, not quite the center, like... bearing one-seven-eight. Six microns at most."

"Bearing from where?"

"The center, Alex. Pay attention."

"I'll pay attention to details you say, not ones you infer."

"Hmm." Alex leaned back, blinking as the microscope's eye rest released her skin. The collected pool of sweat ran down her cheek and she wiped it off, annoyed. They had been staring into this prism for the better part of six hours, on and off. We should have found the focal point by now. So much for expectations.

Her earpiece crackled with Lissa's voice cutting through the hiss. "Alex? I'm seeing you disengaged. You still there? You okay? The scope didn't fritz again, did it?"

A deep, chest rumbling sigh slid out of Alex and it ended in a sharp bark of frustration. There was nothing worse than doing time-sensitive experiments with family. Her sister was driving that point home with rigid precision. She pressed a hand against her ear to engage the comm. "I'm fine. Eye starting to sting, Lissa. Just... five minutes, okay?"

"Let's take ten, then," Lissa responded a few beats later.

Alex unbuckled then pushed back off from the counter to float back across the craft towards the outer ring. She grabbed the restraining bar next to the hatch then slowly fed her legs through the hole, feeling the pull of the centrifugal force. When her feet were almost to the deck on the outer edge, she let go and fell into the torus that served as her hamster wheel. It took a moment of wobbling and overcorrecting, but she steadied herself and walked against the rotation towards the drink station. The coffee she had brewed ten hours ago sat in its heated carafe. She sniffed at the spout. It didn't smell burnt. Thank goodness for small favors. She chose her favorite gaudy mug (the one Cherie had given her) and her mouth curved into a small smile as her eyes glassed over. "Cherie," she sighed. Coffee capped in the container; she strode back to the observation's hatch. The earpiece sounded off again as she got closer, and Lissa's voice materialized through digital disturbance. "Alex. C'mon, stupid thing." The sound of a finger tapping the microphone on her sister's end made Alex wince. She slapped her own device.

"Cut the afterburners, Lissa, geez. What? It's only been a few minutes."

Sharp, excited breath splashed over the comm. "I found it."

"You what?" Alex glanced up. After a few seconds of staring, the entry hole came back around and she leapt up to snag the lip once it peeked out from around the hatch. The shift of gravity sent her gliding into the observation room. "I thought we were taking a break. What, it jumped off your end and followed you around?" She shook her head as her mouth twisted in disgusted. "Sorry. I'm a little rigid over here."

"Bitchy, yeah, got it." Lissa's laugh twinkled through the comm, and Alex's shoulders relaxed. "But, yeah, I may have kept going."

"We were going to find this thing together, Lissa."

"And when they write our biographies, Alex, that's exactly what they'll say. Stop your grinding and look. I've sent a reticle your way to point at it."

Alex buckled herself in and placed the mug in its magnetic holder. She wiped off the scope with a sleeve then peered into it. Sure enough, Lissa's bright pink HUD had given her a little plus sign to highlight the center origin point of the traversal prism. That was it. That little collection of infinite ends of the universe was going to be the pathway back. She whooped, throwing her hands up and screaming, "ORBITAL HIGH-FIVE!" Lissa matched the cry from the other side of the planet and then they both dissolved into nonsensical shouts of jubilation, relief, and hope.

Damn, it really felt good to feel hope like that again.