She didn’t need to come in that early but she enjoyed being there, especially in the winter months when the nights were so long. She’d come to love the darkness. She lived for the quiet moments during her shift when she could just stargaze for a while and forget about the chaotic world around her. Space was silent, but deep. It was filled with infinite questions and answers. It was her obsession.

The more geek-ish types at work called her “Captain Parker,” and laughed themselves silly with Trekkie references. The rest of them held her in silent respect. There were only a few of them in their group and they weren’t especially close. But most of them felt a kinship to Liz. They could tell that somewhere along the way she’d been touched by that desire. They all had. That was why they were there. Only rarely did they talk about those special moments, those epiphanies when the heavens opened and they saw their destiny traced in the stars overhead. Liz was always quiet during those discussions.

There were other parts of her work that she kept under wraps. No one needed to know about her interest in extraterrestrial life. It was unnecessary and would only encourage those who already teased her. She’d learned to keep quiet about aliens a long time ago.

Liz got into bed after she hung up the phone. She stretched, then relaxed and let her feet warm the cool sheets around them. Tiny cracks of light shone from behind the thick, drawn curtain and she could hear cars starting and people talking outside her window. She closed her eyes and heard his voice again in her head, Paul’s voice. It was a soothing voice, one that relaxed you just to hear it.

Her thoughts began to drift. They moved from Paul to the letter she’d left lying on the table. She’d somehow found the nerve to open it. They wanted her, it said. They would appreciate her addition to their team. Team? It sounded like they played baseball. They offered her a good salary, more than she was making now. They were in California. It would be nice to go somewhere warm. Eight years ago she wouldn’t have cared about the climate at all. She would’ve been speechless at getting a job offer from SETI, Search for Extraterrestrial Intelligence. It was the thing she’d wanted for so many years, her biggest goal. And now she was thinking of turning them down for a guy.

It wasn’t that Paul was the first man she’d been involved with since Max Evans. He wasn’t even the first one she’d fallen in love with. But he was the first one who didn’t mind that she worked the graveyard shift. He was patient with her and her long silences, her hesitations, her slow trust. He was the best thing that had happened to her in years. Better, it seemed, than SETI.