Sunny’s pipe paused on the way to his mouth. ‘Huh,’ he said, seeming pleased. ‘Huh.’ He took a drag and angled himself toward Eyas. ‘So what about you? I mean, seems fair to ask, but I know you don’t like talking about work, so it’s cool if—’

‘No, I don’t mind,’ she said. I don’t mind talking about it with you, she meant. It was different with Sunny. Backwards. Usually, people had to get past what she did in order to get to know her. Sunny had come at it the other way around. Explaining her work wasn’t a chore with him. She wasn’t teaching; she was sharing. ‘I always wanted to be a caretaker. Seriously. I went to my aunt’s laying-in when I was six. She died very suddenly. Exosuit accident.’

‘Stars. I’m sorry.’

Eyas nodded in acknowledgement. ‘The caretaker who conducted the ceremony, he was so kind and so . . . impressive. I was upset and confused, and the adults around me were a mess, but he was this . . . this calm in the centre of it. I remember watching him, watching the ritual, absorbing everything he explained to me – me, directly – about the science of it. It was beautiful. Magic, almost. That was it for me. That was what I wanted to do.’ She took a pensive sip.

Sunny watched her even though she wasn’t looking at him. ‘And?’ he asked.

‘And, nothing. It’s what I always wanted to do.’

‘Is it exactly what you’d thought it would be?’

She glanced at him. ‘Perceptive,’ she said, surprised but unbothered.

‘Literally part of that training I mentioned.’

Eyas leaned her head back into the pillows, taking her time. ‘The caretaker I encountered that day, he was a . . . a symbol to me. This symbol of fearlessness, of . . . harmony. He took a terrifying thing I barely understood and he showed me it was okay. It was normal. And that feeling was reinforced by the way adults treated him. They didn’t pull away. They weren’t repulsed. They embraced him – in both senses of the word. He was life and death walking as one, and they wrapped their arms around him and gave him gifts, and by extension, showed me I did not have to be afraid of our reality.’ She paused again. She’d never talked about this with someone outside of her profession, and certainly not to this degree. ‘I am that, now. I am that symbol to others. It’s exactly what I wanted, what I worked for. But there’s this other side to it I didn’t expect. I’m a symbol, yes, but a symbol wearing my face and my name. Myself, but also not. Mostly not. People know, when I walk through my district, who I am, what I do. Doesn’t matter if I’ve got my wagon or am wearing my robes. They know. And so I always have to be Eyas the symbol, the good symbol, because I never know who’s looking at me, who needs to see that thing I saw in a caretaker when I was six. It doesn’t matter if I’m having a bad day, or if I’m tired, or if I’m feeling selfish. They look to me for comfort. I have to be that. And that is me, in a sense. That is a genuine part of me. But that’s just it – it’s a part. It’s not—’

‘It’s not the whole,’ Sunny said.

Eyas nodded. ‘And that aspect of my work, I wasn’t ready for. I never thought about who my aunt’s caretaker was when he went home.’

Sunny held the bowl of his pipe in his palm. The smoke ascended as if he were conjuring it. ‘Sounds lonely.’

Eyas weighed that word. Lonely. Was she? She pursed her lips. ‘Not exactly. It’s not like I work alone, or live alone. It’s more that I feel . . . I feel . . . incomplete. Or stuck, maybe. Like I can only ever be this one thing. Like this is the only side of myself I’ll be able to express. Like there’s something more I could be doing.’ She shrugged and sipped. ‘But then, I’ve never wanted to do anything else, so I have no idea what it is I want to change.’ She paused, her mouth twisting.

‘What?’

‘That’s not entirely true.’

‘What’s not?’

Oh stars, was she really going to tell him this? Why not, she thought. She was already naked as naked could be. Eyas looked away with an embarrassed smile. ‘There was a brief period in my teens when I went off on a Gaiist kick, but other than that—’

‘Wait, wait, wait.’ Sunny laughed. ‘You can’t fly past that. You. You went on a Gaiist kick.’

Eyas laughed right along with him. ‘I did. Drove my family crazy.’

Sunny was gleeful. ‘Were you going to go to Earth, or . . .’

‘No, it’s so much worse than that.’ She made an exaggerated grimace. ‘See, I got this info chip at a spaceport—’

He cracked up. ‘Oh, stars, you were going to be a missionary. Oh, fuck. That’s so much dumber than Monster Makers.’

Eyas flicked his thigh. ‘Shut up,’ she said. ‘I was fifteen.’

‘And that’s why it’s forgivable,’ he said. He took a deep breath. ‘Hoo. Congrats on growing out of it.’

She raised her glass in salute.

‘So what steered you away from that truly amazing life goal?’

‘I don’t know. Not one specific thing.’ She pursed her lips. ‘The problem with Gaiist philosophy is . . . well, my work.’

He spread out his hands, inviting her to continue.

Eyas considered. ‘You’re fine with me digging into what I do? It won’t ruin the mood?’