Each clutching the other's hand, they waited atop the Green Building.

They weren't supposed to be here. No one was. But the tallest building in 
Cambridge, Massachusetts would soon depart the soil on which it had stood for 
so long, and they couldn't have missed the chance to be here. To watch the 
final stage of Daedalus, from the inside.

Some enterprising soul had planted a replica of an Apollo Lunar Module on the 
roof behind them, likening to the old Saturn Vs the twenty-one-story concrete 
box on which it perched. A flag hung above it, unmoving in the still air. The 
motionless silence unnerved her. There should be wind. There should be people 
walking far below, talking of subjects she would never understand. Yet there 
was nothing. Beyond the sheath that now enclosed the building, she could see 
the labyrinthine tracery of streets that filled Cambridge to the north, the 
cars in their orderly caravans sliding efficiently from place to place, while 
the sun crept down to the horizon and the fiery clouds above glowed orange and 
violet.

But within, the Green Building, neatly packaged for transport, rested in 
preparation for its own journey.

Around them, a huge tract of land adjacent to the Charles lay vacant, fallow 
dirt under long shadows. It had of course long since gone to the highest 
bidder, a Dubai company planning to raise an arcology on the site. But that had 
to wait until Daedalus finished. Until it cleared away this, the last remnant 
of old MIT.

It was just MIT now, as it had been for decades, since its focus had shifted 
offworld and "Massachusetts" had become inaccurate (and also, if the rumor was 
to be believed, so it could sue the pants off MarsTech). For almost as long the 
original campus, here in Cambridge, had been suffering from declining 
admissions and increasing irrelevance. Yet its reputation remained untarnished, 
and history still lived in its bones. So now, as the wealth of the outer system 
was starting to pour back to the mother planet, the children of MIT, the 
architects and the chemists and the astroengineers, had returned to lift these 
old halls into the future. Just because they could.

And that was Daedalus.

Giant engines above had raised the buildings of MIT one by one out of Earth's 
gravity well. An unprecedented feat, it had taken years and drawn the awe and 
fascination of the world. Enclosed in protective organic sheaths, miracles of 
bioengineering, the buildings floating like soap bubbles among the stars had 
joined the construction of New Boston, a gigantic space station with artificial 
gravity. Not all had emerged unscathed, of course, but that most survived had 
given them courage enough to stand here on this night, looking out over the 
city spread below them.

There was a slight tremor beneath their feet; the near-transparent sheath 
rippled noticeably. Cables, pillars and struts holding the building in place 
adjusted automatically. Her hand tightened its grip on his. It was time.

"Boston is lovely at night," he said, slowly. "But you have to see it from 
above--"

They leapt toward the sky.