Dock thirty-seven was empty, save for the skiff waiting at the ready and a young woman leaning against the safety rail outside, playing a pixel game on her scrib. She was the pilot, as the multiple certification patches stitched onto her jacket indicated, and her uniformed appearance was every bit that of her profession, from her practical bamboo-fibre slacks to the resource-heavy boots that had probably belonged to another pair of feet first. But there were other details that would’ve been out of place on a pilot back when Isabel had been her age. The hypnotically shifting bot tattoos that danced up and down her forearms, for one. The thick Aandrisk-style swirls painted on her nails. The tiny glittering tech ports embedded near her temples, whose purpose Isabel could only guess at. She was an Exodan pilot, yes. But also . . . more.

The pilot glanced up as Isabel and Tamsin approached. ‘Hey, M Itoh and M Itoh!’ she said. ‘How’s it going?’

Isabel didn’t know the girl well, but she knew her name, that she was from neighbourhood five, and that she sometimes came into the Archives to look at records of old Earth architecture. Isabel had done the naming ceremony for her niece earlier that standard. ‘Hello, Kiku,’ she said warmly. ‘Are you our pilot this evening?’

Kiku looked delighted. ‘You two here for the Sunside?’

‘It appears that way,’ Isabel said, throwing a look in Tamsin’s direction.

Tamsin looked around the empty walkway. ‘Do we have it to ourselves?’ she asked, pleased with the possibility.

Kiku switched off her game, and the pixels scattered away. ‘Not many folks go for a night flight on a work night,’ she said, holstering her scrib and stepping toward the shuttle door. ‘Just kids on dates, mostly.’ She winked at them, and politely gestured toward the door. ‘Come on in.’

The shuttle had six pairs of passenger seats in a straight line, and a clear, domed roof that began at seat level and arched all the way around. Walking through the door, you could tell the roof was as thick and sturdy as any bulkhead, but sitting next to it, you’d never know it was there.

‘Anywhere you’d like,’ Kiku said.

‘What about that one?’ Tamsin pointed at the pilot seat, serious as could be.

Kiku played right along. ‘Can’t have that one,’ she said without cracking a smile.

‘You sure?’

‘Super sure.’

‘Tsk,’ Tamsin said, shaking her head. ‘Well, this was a bust.’ She started to head back toward the door, then chuckled, scrunched her nose at Kiku, and picked the second row behind the pilot’s seat. Far enough to not be crowding the pilot, but close enough to give her a hard time.

Kiku started her prep, and Isabel took the seat beside her wife. Tamsin leaned over, speaking in a low whisper. ‘Y’know, if she’s used to kids on dates, I bet she won’t mind if we make out.’

Isabel smothered a laugh and slapped Tamsin’s leg. ‘We’d traumatise the poor kid.’

‘What? No. We’re gorgeous.’ Her eyes narrowed in thought. ‘Didn’t we make out on the Sunside once?’

A very old memory dusted itself off: a pair of women, younger than their pilot was now, drunk on bartered kick and eyes full of nothing but the other, cosied up in the back row of a shuttle as if no one else was there. ‘That was the ferry, not the Sunside,’ Isabel said.

‘You sure?’

‘I’m sure.’

‘Okay. You’re the archivist.’

Isabel leaned a little closer. ‘How would you make out on the Sunside anyway? You’d knock your teeth in.’

Her wife snorted. ‘But if you didn’t, you’d be a legend. I’m surprised that’s not a thing.’

‘What? Go to town as long as you can without needing medical attention?’

‘Yeah,’ Tamsin laughed heartily. ‘The Sunside challenge.’

The sounds of conspiratorial merriment made Kiku look back. ‘You two gonna be trouble?’

Tamsin sat up straight and folded her hands across her lap. ‘No way, M,’ she said, like a school kid caught with cheat codes. ‘No trouble here.’

‘Mmm-hmm,’ the pilot said, returning to her switches and buttons.

Isabel reached over and held Tamsin’s hand. ‘No trouble from me, anyway,’ she said.

‘Traitor,’ Tamsin said. She gave her fingers an affectionate squeeze.

Kiku slipped on a navigation hud. ‘Oh,’ Isabel said. She reached up to her face, remembering that she’d been wearing her own hud since work. She removed it, and gave Tamsin a facetious glare as she slipped the device into a pocket. ‘How long were you going to let me run around wearing this?’

Tamsin shrugged. ‘Until now, I guess.’

The engines outside whirred, their ion jets starting to glow. ‘All right,’ the pilot said. ‘Everybody ready?’ She paused. ‘I assume you two don’t need the safety lecture, yeah?’

Tamsin tugged on her fastened seat restraint in response. ‘Sit down, strap in, hang on.’

‘And let the pilot do her job,’ Isabel added.

Kiku pointed a finger back toward Isabel as she began to pull out from dock. ‘I like that bit,’ she said. ‘I’m adding that bit.’ She switched and pressed and made adjustments. ‘You two want grav or nah?’