She made it sound amazing. “Yeah. And you’re…”
“Moore Station. Out on the Belt. I’ve never even been on a planet before. I’m kind of flipping out a little.” Her eyes were wide; her hands wrung each other. ?
??But you—this must be just normal for you.”
“Not really. Mars isn’t exactly habitable. You can’t leave the colony buildings without life support. And the gravity’s way off.”
“Oh, the gravity. I already hate it.”
“They tell me it gets better.”
She sat on her bed, letting out a deflating sigh. “I sure hope so.”
I sat on my bed, next to hers. I could start unpacking, or I could just collapse and let the gravity pull me into sleep.
From the other side of the room Marie said, “That other guy with the brown hair—he’s your brother, right?”
“Yes. Charles,” I muttered. I hoped she got that I didn’t want to talk about him. Marie nodded thoughtfully.
Ladhi leaned forward. “And the other guy you were with, Ethan. He’s really cute.”
“Almost as cute as Tenzig,” Marie observed, smiling for the first time.
“That’s the other guy from Ride Station?” I said. “The tall one?”
“With those blue eyes,” Ladhi said with a sigh. “Tenzig Jones. His family runs Aurora Shipping. He’s going to be a pilot someday.” Her voice got all dreamy.
“I’m going to be a pilot someday,” I said. “Besides, I’m not really interested. I have a boyfriend back on Mars, actually.”
“Oh. And he’s okay with this? Being so far away and all.”
“Yeah. I mean, we talked it over. It’s just the way things are.” Actually, I was feeling guilty at how little I’d thought of Beau over the last couple of days. I was sure it was just the trauma of finally getting to Earth. I ought to write him a note telling him I was here, what it was like, and how it couldn’t possibly get any worse.
Ladhi kept talking, manic with exhaustion like I was. My ears were buzzing. “My mom really doesn’t like it, me being so far away, not seeing me for years maybe. But who could pass up a chance like this?”
I raised my hand. “I’d have been happy to stay on Mars.”
“Oh, no,” Ladhi said, breathless with awe. “This is the best school anywhere. If you can get through here, you’ll be set for life.”
“Is that it?” I grumbled. “Doesn’t it depend on what you want to do with your life?”
“Well, sure. But you want to succeed, don’t you?”
Succeed, according to whom? My mother?
I wanted to be a pilot. If being at Galileo made that easier, so be it. But I wasn’t convinced that the place was a guarantee to a great life. I put on a good front for her. “Sure.”
I hadn’t brought very much from Mars: a couple of changes of clothes and my handheld. My boots, and a vial of red-brown sand that made me homesick just looking at it. Mom said they’d have everything here that I needed, and she was right. In our labeled closets we found a whole collection of clothing in exactly our sizes: tailored uniforms with blouses, jackets, slacks; loose-fitting knits for exercising; nightshirts for sleeping; dress shoes and running shoes; and a whole collection of underthings and socks and such. They’d taken scans and measurements from our records and produced it all.
I dressed in the brand-new clothes that felt weird and different—they were made of natural fibers, Marie explained. Cotton. We didn’t have cotton on Mars, everything was synthetic. I didn’t think I’d have to get used to the clothes, on top of everything else.
In half an hour the lights were off. At least the beds were nicer than on the Lilia Litviak. Thick and soft, with plenty of blankets. They were almost as nice as at home. The only reason they weren’t as nice was that it wasn’t home.
6
In the morning, an alarm rang. Actually, a soft bell that might have been pleasant in any other context chimed from our bedside terminals. As a wake-up call it was kind of oppressive. Especially when followed by Stanton’s fake-polite voice announcing that we had a half an hour before we had to line up for breakfast and orientation.
I rolled over and something under my pillow crinkled. Paper. I slapped around above the bed before finding the reading lamp and touching it on.