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race that it was no longer alone; five years later, with Lucifer blazing in the sky, no such reminder was needed.
    Floyd’s fingers were not very steady - sometimes his right hand seemed to have a will of its own - as he unpeeled the card and slipped it into his pocket. It would be almost the only personal possession he would take when he boarded Universe.
    ‘Twenty-five days - you’ll be back before we’ve noticed you’re gone,’ said Jerry. ‘And by the way, is it true that you’ll have Dimitri onboard?’
    ‘That little Cossack!’ snorted George. ‘I conducted his Second Symphony, back in ‘22.’
    ‘Wasn’t that when the First Violin threw up, during the largo?’
    ‘No - that was Mahler, not Mihailovich. And anyway it was the brass, so nobody noticed - except the unlucky tuba player, who sold his instrument the next day.’
    ‘You’re making this up!’
    ‘Of course. But give the old rascal my love, and ask him if he remembers that night we had out in Vienna. Who else have you got aboard?’
    ‘I’ve heard horrible rumours about press gangs,’ said Jerry thoughtful1y.
    ‘Greatly exaggerated, I can assure you. We’ve all been personally chosen by Sir Lawrence for our intelligence, wit, beauty, charisma, or other redeeming virtue.’
    ‘Not expendability?’
    ‘Well, now that you mention it, we’ve all had to sign a depressing legal document, absolving Tsung Spacelines from every conceivable liability. My copy’s in that file, by the way.’
    ‘Any chance of us collecting on it?’ asked George hopefully.
    ‘No - my lawyers say it’s iron-clad. Tsung agrees to take me to Halley and back, give me food, water, air, and a room with a view.’
    ‘And in return?’
    ‘When I get back I’ll do my best to promote future voyages, make some video appearances, write a few articles - all very reasonable, for the chance of a lifetime. Oh yes - I’ll also entertain my fellow passengers - and vice versa.’
    ‘How? Song and dance?’
    ‘Well, I hope to inflict selected portions of my memoirs on a captive audience. But I don’t think I’ll be able to compete with the professionals. Did you know that Yva Merlin will be on board?’
    ‘What! How did they coax her out of that Park Avenue cell?’
    ‘She must be a hundred and - oops, sorry, Hey.’ ‘She’s seventy, plus or minus five.’
    ‘Forget the minus. I was just a kid when Napoleon came out.’
    There was a long pause while each of the trio scanned his memories of that famous work. Although some critics considered her Scarlett O’Hara to be her finest role, to the general public Yva Merlin (née Evelyn Miles, when she was born in Cardiff, South Wales) was still identified with Josephine. Almost half a century ago, David Griffin’s controversial epic had delighted the French and infuriated the British - though both sides now agreed that he had occasionally allowed his artistic impulses to trifle with the historical record, notably in the spectacular final sequence of the Emperor’s coronation in Westminster Abbey.
    ‘That’s quite a scoop for Sir Lawrence,’ said George thoughtfully.
    ‘I think I can claim some credit for that. Her father was an astronomer - he worked for me at one time - and she’s always been quite interested in science. So I made a few video calls.’
    Heywood Floyd did not feel it necessary to add that, like a substantial fraction of the human race, he had fallen in love with Yva ever since the appearance of GWTW Mark II.
    ‘Of course,’ he continued, ‘Sir Lawrence was delighted - but I had to convince him that she had more than a casual interest in astronomy. Otherwise the voyage could be a social disaster.’
    ‘Which reminds me,’ said George, producing a small package he had been not very successfully hiding behind his back. ‘We have a little present for you.’
    ‘Can I open it now?’
    ‘Do you think he should?’ Jerry wondered anxiously.
    ‘In that case, I certainly will,’ said Floyd, untying