Interstellar: The Official Movie Novelization by Greg Keyes Page B

smile, her dark eyes challenging him to believe her.
    “‘They,’” he said.
    She nodded. “And whoever ‘they’ are, they appear to be looking out for us,” she said. “That wormhole lets us travel to other stars. It came along right as we needed it.”
    “They’ve put potentially habitable worlds within our reach,” Doyle put in, excitement tangible in his voice. “Twelve, in fact, judging from our initial probes.”
    “You sent probes into it?” Cooper asked.
    “We sent people into it,” Professor Brand said. “Ten years ago.”
    “The Lazarus missions,” Cooper guessed.
    Professor Brand rose and gestured at the walls of the conference room, where twelve portraits hung. Cooper had noticed them before, but hadn’t studied them in detail.
    They all were of astronauts, garbed in white spacesuits, sans masks, with the American flag and NASA logo on their shoulders. He had assumed the portraits dated to decades ago, but now he realized he didn’t recognize any of their faces. These were astronauts he could not name.
    “Twelve possible worlds,” the professor said. “Twelve Ranger launches carrying the bravest humans ever to live, led by the remarkable Dr. Mann.”
    Doyle picked up from there. In contrast with Romilly, Doyle had a sort of focused intensity.
    “Each person’s landing pod had sufficient life support for two years,” he explained, “but they could use hibernation to stretch that, making observations on organics over a decade or more. Their mission was to assess their world, and if it was showing promise, send a signal, bed down for a long nap, and wait to be rescued.”
    Cooper tried to imagine that. Alone, inconceivably far away from home, gambling everything on finding one habitable world out of twelve.
    “And if their world didn’t show promise?” Cooper asked.
    “Hence the bravery,” Doyle replied.
    “Because you don’t have the resources to visit all twelve,” Cooper said.
    “No,” Doyle confirmed. “Data transmission back through the wormhole is rudimentary—simple binary ‘pings’ on an annual basis, to give some clue as to which worlds have potential.” He paused, then added, “One system shows promise.”
    “One?” Cooper said. “Kind of a long shot.”
    Doyle shook his head, and his blue eyes flashed confidence.
    “One system with three potential worlds,” Dr. Brand said. “No long shot.”
    Cooper paused a moment to let it sink in. Three worlds, each—or all—offering potential new homes. Hope for his children and grandchildren. But if this ship, this Endurance was the only remaining deep-space vessel…
    “So if we find a new home,” he asked, “what then?”
    Professor Brand shot him an approving look.
    “That’s the long shot,” he said. “There’s plan A, and there’s plan B. Did you notice anything strange about the launch chamber?”
    * * *
    The first time Cooper had been in the launch chamber, all he had been able to see was the rocket boosters and the Rangers perched upon it. Sure, he had off-handedly noticed that the chamber was a little bigger than it needed to be. But now, as he really studied it, he realized it was huge . Mind-bogglingly so.
    It was shaped and proportioned something like a traditional grain silo, but if it was scaled down to the size of a grain silo, the Rangers and their boosters would become little more than largish models. The actual circumference of the upright cylinder looked to be as much as a third of a mile.
    Hell, it might be more.
    Though that was unusual, it wasn’t really the strangest part—not by far. The walls of the vast cylinder weren’t smooth, the way a normal launch silo would be. Normally, a silo’s main function was to shield the rest of the compound from a launch or—in the worst-case scenario—an explosion. So there would be no protuberances.
    High above where he stood, several odd structures had been built onto the interior surface—were still being constructed, in fact. He couldn’t