It had rained just before the funeral. On the way back to the vans, Tubby fell and broke her hip.

What she remembered most about the fall itself was looking back at Dr. Lai, who began to reach for her, then pulled himself back. It was fascinating to replay the calculations on his face. Tubby was not a large woman, but neither was Dr. Lai a large man, and he was older than she; he already had back problems, and he might not even be strong enough to help. Tubby did not resent his choice; the fragility of life was on everybody's mind that day. But she knew Mrs. Xin would have caught her.

She tried to keep her spirits up in the days and weeks that followed, but the pain and immobility were like a slab on her chest. She forced herself to eat but still lost weight. Taisheng had brought Tubby's math and physics books, but Daphne didn't come for lessons, so Tubby didn't touch them.

Daphne only came for a brief visit before the surgery. Quinn seemed nervous about keeping her there too long, and Daphne herself was visibly uncomfortable. "You shouldn't have pulled her out of school to bring her here," said Tubby, scolding, but in reality, she felt stronger after having seen Daphne. She didn't feel good, but she felt like she would live. When Daphne left, Tubby asked to speak to Taisheng alone.

She told him all she knew or surmised about the dreamgame—about the rocket scientists, about how she knew he was using the dreamgame to help solve the Europa proteins, about her own strangely satisfying dalliances with his dead father's memory. "You have to stop," she said. "Quinn and Paul and Daphne are depending on you."

"Ma," he said, and she was not sure if it was exasperation or helplessness or fear in his voice. "You have to understand how this sounds."

"You have obligations. It doesn't matter who's first to solve the Europa proteins."

"Tell it to Linus Pauling."

"Linus Pauling could afford to share the spotlight, and so can you."

Taisheng smiled, and Tubby knew that was his last refusal. She let herself cry for a minute or too. He held her hand, which should not have made it better, but it did, a little.

Taisheng was silent for a while; Tubby could tell he was organizing thoughts, composing something to say. "Sometimes the dreamgame takes me to the Banqiao house too," he said at last. "I don't feel the same way you do, when I see Ba. I miss him. There are things I never said. And sometimes I say them, and the next night, he remembers. Ma, how can the dreamgame hurt my memory if the Ba in my brain remembers?"

Tubby wasn't sure what to say. A nurse poked her head in from the hall and said something to Taisheng. "They need to prep you for surgery now," he said. His voice caught; there were tears brightening his tired eyes.

"Don't worry about me," said Tubby. "Take care of Quinn and the kids. And keep practicing your Mandarin," she said, trying to joke. "You don't want to get kicked off the dreamgame now."

"What?"

"I saw it on the dreamgame network. The Mandarin course you're taking. Who do you think you're fooling?"

"I'm not taking a Chinese course, Ma," said Taisheng. Tubby felt something clench and coil in her stomach; Taisheng saw and forced a smile. "I'll tell you what, Ma," he said. "If I login and see a Chinese course in my queue, I'll stop right now."

The nurse gave up and brought the prep team in. Taisheng leaned down and kissed Tubby on the forehead. "Good luck, Ma. We'll see you in a few hours."

Tubby nodded, only half paying attention. Her mind was moving furiously, but between the pain and the bustle of the prep team, she couldn't think. They wheeled her to surgery. The surgeon was a tall, athletic white man; even under his scrubs she could tell he was good-looking. "Mrs. Shu," he said, "I'm going to need you to count backwards from ten."

She did not quite understand the words, but she knew what one did in surgery when the general anesthesia was administered. She counted ten, nine, eight, seven, and then her eyes went wide in epiphany. She did not get to six.