‘I’m not busy, is what I was saying.’

‘Cool. Okay, well . . . I’ve been stuck on this idea, and I thought—’

Her attempt was derailed by M Tsai, who had reappeared with offerings in hand. ‘I thought you two might like some iced tea,’ M Tsai said, setting down a full pitcher and a pair of glasses. ‘My own special recipe. I always keep some around in case guests show up.’ She filled Eyas’ glass. ‘Are you one of his clients?’

‘M, you know you can’t ask that,’ Sunny said. ‘That’s confidential.’

‘It’s okay,’ Eyas said. She smiled at M Tsai. ‘I am.’

‘But she’s my friend, too,’ Sunny said. He locked eyes with Eyas. Something passed between them. He’d seen her every which way, and yet, somehow, this – a shared pitcher of tea, a confirmation of friendship, a secret smile – this was the most vulnerable she’d ever felt around him.

‘How nice,’ M Tsai said. ‘And what’s your profession?’

Sunny transmitted an apology through his eyes.

‘I’m a caretaker,’ Eyas said.

‘Oh! Oh, my goodness. Well.’ She looked at the now-filled glasses, trying to find an excuse to stay now that her previous one had ended. ‘You know . . . biscuits. I got a packet of quick dough as trade a few days ago, and a bunch of herbs in my home that aren’t going to last much longer. I think this kind of company deserves a proper snack, don’t you?’

‘M,’ Sunny said, ‘that’s really—’

‘It’s no trouble!’ M Tsai said, already on her way. ‘It won’t take long!’

Sunny gave an apologetic sigh as soon as M Tsai’s door shut. ‘I’m sure this isn’t why you came by.’

‘Not quite,’ Eyas said.

He folded his arms on the table. ‘Start at the beginning.’

‘I’m still thinking about Sawyer.’ She’d reserved a whole night with Sunny after the funeral, instead of the usual half. Neither of them had commented on it, or needed to. She’d taken care of someone else. He’d done the same for her.

Sunny folded his mouth sympathetically. ‘That had to be pretty . . . I dunno. Traumatic.’

‘Not his body. It was . . . unpleasant, yes. But I don’t mean that. I mean Sawyer. I mean the man I spoke with for five minutes.’ She frowned. ‘I wasn’t very patient, and I wasn’t very kind. But he was so grateful for what flimsy advice I gave him. He looked so happy. He wrote me a letter. I think I may have been more patient and kind to him than most, and that’s . . . that’s why he’s dead. He got taken advantage of. He didn’t know how things worked. But he wanted to. I know I only had that one short conversation, but . . . I think his heart was in the right place.’ Eyas sipped her iced tea and paused. ‘This is delicious.’

Sunny nodded. ‘M Tsai is a legend in the kitchen. Used to work in imports, so she’s got all kinds of spices and stuff. I’m honestly stoked she’s making biscuits.’ He sipped his own drink. ‘But again, not why you’re here.’ He looked at her with kind eyes. ‘It makes sense that you’re still upset about it.’

Eyas shook her head. He was getting the wrong idea. ‘I’m not here because I’m upset. If I needed a counsellor, I’d go see a counsellor.’

‘Talking to friends is okay, too, y’know.’

‘I didn’t mean – I know. And I appreciate it. But I don’t want to sit around and be sad. I want to do something about it.’

‘Okay.’ He leaned back thoughtfully. ‘What’d you have in mind?’

‘You know the emigrant resource centres, right? With their workshops and such. How to speak proper Klip, how to live alongside aliens. Everything you need to know before you move planetside. That’s what our ancestors were trying to prepare us for, right? That’s why the Fleet exists. Except that’s not the point of the Fleet anymore, not entirely. I’m not here to shepherd people along to new planets. I care for the ones who made their lives here. And you – you’re the same, only in present tense. We both want to make life good for the people who choose to stay. So . . . why don’t we have the opposite?’

‘The opposite of what?’

‘Classes. Workshops. Resources for grounders who want to live in the Fleet. We have nothing for them right now. We have homes standing empty, and jobs unfilled, and we’re . . . what? Hoping that the next generation will want to stick around more than the last? Look, if it was a matter of everybody wanting to leave here, fine. But that’s not the case. People aren’t just staying in the Fleet. They’re coming back. We have such disdain for outsiders who come and act like this is a museum, but what about the Sawyers? What about the people who don’t have a place out there, who think that our way of life has some appeal? We look at them and we say, oh, stupid city kids, stupid Martians, they don’t know how things are. They don’t understand how life works out here. So, let’s teach them. Let’s teach them, instead of brushing them off and laughing behind their backs. Let’s bring them in.’

Sunny took that in. ‘Huh,’ he said. He took a long sip of his tea, looked over his shoulder to verify that his nephew had indeed left the shears alone, then set his drink back down. ‘Huh. That is . . . not a terrible idea.’ He paused. ‘That’s a great idea, actually.’