Well, truth be told, he was looking for one specific ship—not that he had any idea about what it would look like. His attention was drawn to a speck in the window. Was that it, or was it just a smudge on the glass? Rob wished he knew what the chances were that the girl had actually made it. He could ask Buton. Buton would probably be able to come up with a statistic without even working on it for too long. But Rob remained silent. Truth be told, he didn’t really want to know the girl’s chances, at least not in numbers. The hope that bubbled up in his chest was a far better indicator, as far as he was concerned. The girl was the closest thing to a girlfriend that Rob had experienced. A smile in an arcade and a mad rush from an exploding space station was the nearest to a relationship he had come. That was sad. That sucked. Rob really didn’t want to think about another part of this whole thing. Unfortunately, his brain had other ideas. Maybe it was being up here in space, where life and death were sometimes measured by several millimeters of glass separating him from the void.
