‘What is going on?’ Tessa asked warily, hanging her satchel by the door. Elsewhere in the home, she could hear industrious movement.

Pop raised his chin. ‘Aya,’ he said, ‘is packing.’

Tessa had long ago stopped trying to predict anything that was likely to be waiting for her at home. She might as well write a bunch of nouns on some strips of cloth, add an equal number of verbs, shake them up in a box, pull two of each out, and pair them with her kids’ names. Ky eating paint. Aya breaking bots. That system would be closer to the mark than anything she could come up with on her own.

Still. Packing. That was new.

She made her way to Aya’s room and leaned against the open doorframe. Yes, indeed, there was her daughter, sitting by several old storage crates and everyday satchels stuffed with clothes and sundries – a pack of dentbots, Tessa could see, and a tin of tea as well. Her son was present too, kneeling on Aya’s bed and trying his darnedest to put on one of her shirts. He was attempting to stick his head through the sleeve, but hey, points for effort.

Tessa surveyed the goings-on. ‘Hey,’ she said. ‘What’s all this?’

Aya looked up from her concentrated work. She took a large breath. ‘Mom,’ the nine-year-old said in a serious voice. ‘I know this might be hard for you to hear.’

Tessa kept her face as straight as possible. ‘Okay.’

‘I’m moving.’

‘Oh,’ Tessa said. She gave a thoughtful nod. ‘I see. Where are you moving to?’

‘Mars. I know you don’t like it there, but it’s better than here.’

‘Sounds like you’ve made up your mind about this.’

Aya nodded and resumed emptying her dresser into one of the crates.

Tessa watched for a moment. ‘Can I help?’

Her daughter considered, then pointed. ‘You can put my toys in this box here.’ She pointed again.

As directed, Tessa sat on the floor and began to gather figurines and model ships. ‘So, how are you getting to Mars?’

‘I wrote to Uncle Ashby,’ Aya said. ‘He’s going to pick me up and take me there.’

‘Really,’ Tessa said. ‘Did he say that to you, or is that what you asked him?’

‘That’s what I asked him. He hasn’t replied yet, but I know it’ll be fine.’

‘Hmm. You know, he’s pretty far away right now. Why not take a transport from here?’

‘I don’t have trade good enough for a ticket.’

‘Ah. Yeah, that’s a problem.’

Ky wriggled his way off the bed and marched over to the boxes. ‘I help!’ he said. He grabbed a battery pack out of one of the crates, put it on the floor, then reached for something else to remove.

‘Ky, stop it,’ Aya said, not a trace of patience in her voice.

‘No,’ Ky said. He threw a bundle of socks with a laugh. ‘No!’

‘Mom,’ Aya whined. ‘Make him quit it.’

Tessa pulled her son into her lap. ‘Ky, come on, don’t throw,’ she said. She handed him the least fragile of the toy ships in order to keep him busy. ‘Aya, be nice to your brother.’

‘He’s so annoying,’ her daughter muttered.

‘You were annoying when you were little, too.’

‘Was not.’

Tessa laughed. ‘All toddlers are annoying, baby. It’s the way of the universe.’ She kissed her son’s hair as her daughter continued packing. ‘So, once Ashby drops you off on Mars, what’s your plan?’

‘They have bunkhouses at the docks,’ Aya said. ‘I can stay there until I make enough creds for a house.’

Tessa smothered a smile. Whatever vids Aya had picked up dockside bunkhouses from hadn’t driven home the fact that nobody on Mars would give her a room without creds. She was from the Fleet, through and through. She wondered what other facts about grounder life her daughter hadn’t gleaned. ‘You know Martians don’t live under open air, right?’ She said the words strategically, trying not to scare too much.

Aya paused. ‘Yeah, they do.’

‘They don’t. Humans can’t breathe the outside air on Mars. Every Martian city is under a big shield dome.’

‘What? No.’

‘Yep. Here,’ Tessa said, handing Aya her scrib. ‘You can look it up on the Linkings.’

Ky dropped the toy ship and reached for the device as it was handed off. ‘Mine!’ he said.

‘That’s definitely not yours,’ Tessa said. ‘And your sister’s using it now.’ Ky started to fuss, so she grabbed the pair of socks he’d thrown earlier and put it in his stubby hands. ‘Here, show me how fast you can make this into two socks.’

Ky plucked at a random patch of fabric. He’d be at it a while.

Aya, meanwhile, was frowning in a way that said she expected parental trickery. She looked down at the scrib and made a few practised gestures. The screen responded with pictures of Florence, Spirit’s Rest, Perseverance. All glittering, all metropolitan, all . . . corralled behind barriers against the harsh red dust outside. Aya visibly wilted. Tessa felt a little sorry for her. Adventures were a hard thing to let go of.

‘Did something happen at school?’ Tessa asked. The bullying had ended – as far as she knew – but Aya had been playing solo since then.