The band was live—more than a dozen musicians, which made it bigger than any band I’d ever heard. We had live music and musicians on Mars. Concerts in the atrium. Quieter, usually.
The sound filled the banquet hall. It was almost too loud—I’d have to shout to talk. By this time, the adults had all collected on one side of the room and seemed to be gossiping. About politics, money, each other—us. I hadn’t realized what a big deal Galileo was until I saw how pleased everyone seemed about being here and showing off.
The band played something old-fashioned and jazzy. As Angelyn said, it was music you could dance to. I would have preferred something classical, that I could sit and listen to, like we did at home. I was tired, and the thought of dancing in Earth gravity made my bones feel like lead. But I wasn’t going to be the first one to leave. I could hear it all now: those Martian kids, so antisocial, so strange.
They were probably saying that anyway.
A lot of people were dancing now. Angelyn was still watching Harald, her brow furrowed. He glanced this way once—and smiled at her. I nudged her and said, “Be fearless.” That seemed to settle it for her. Straightening her shoulders, she walked over to him. I didn’t hear what she said to him, but he smiled wider, and a minute later they walked together to the middle of the floor. I could see in seconds they were both good at dancing, and Angelyn never looked away from him.
I was left holding a glass of punch and watching, and I didn’t even mind. Ethan drifted over, his hands locked behind his back, and I expected some pithy observation about how great everything was. But he pointed over his shoulder to the dancing.
“Polly. You want to?”
I didn’t know how to dance, but I didn’t say that. “How can you have the energy for it after all this?”
“I’m sure I’ll be beat tomorrow. But for now, why not have fun?” He was smiling, not having to fake enjoying himself. Good for him.
“Ethan, I don’t think I can even—”
Then Tenzig came over from the side, like he was trying to sneak up on me, but not very hard. He looked Ethan up and down, then focused on me. His smile seemed sly.
“Are you going to dance, Polly?”
Ethan was giving him a strange look, and I felt suddenly queasy. “I was just trying to decide.”
“Come on. Let’s go.” He tipped his head, a suave gesture.
I looked back and forth between them. Ethan’s brow was raised, hopeful. Tenzig held his hand out, demanding.
This was a simple problem. I ought to be able to figure this out. Why couldn’t I figure this out? It was just dancing. Say yes to one of them, or no to both. But why did they even have to ask? Either one of them? At the same time? Or I could walk away.
I couldn’t figure it out. So I set down my glass of punch and left. Walked right in between them, marching away to the far wall, past the dessert tables and to the door. I could leave the whole party. I didn’t need to be here. No one would miss me.
Stanton was standing by the main door, the one we’d come in. She wasn’t in her usual gray uniform, but her black gown, floor length with long sleeves, might as well have been a uniform. She was scanning the crowd with a pleased, inward smile, like she had orchestrated a complicated plan and was watching it unfold flawlessly. I wondered what kind of report about all this she was going to be sending to people like my mother. It made me want to do something like tip over the punch bowl, just to be contrary. But I didn’t want to spend another six weeks on restrictions.
I wasn’t going to try sneaking past her. There had to be another way out of this cave.
“Polly, what’s wrong?”
I jumped, flinching like someone had set off an alarm behind me. I was going insane. It was just Ladhi, looking wide-eyed and earnest.
“I thought this whole thing was supposed to be fun,” I muttered.
“Oh, my gosh, it is! I danced with Boris! Did you see us?”
I glared. How dare she be more socially well-adjusted than me. “I’m not interested in dancing. I don’t know why everyone else is.”
“Doesn’t anyone go dancing on Mars?”
“Yes, of course people dance on Mars, but not—” Not like this, with all the social rules and nice dresses and people saying things they didn’t mean or that meant something other than what they were saying, and impossible decisions like what to do when two guys asked you to dance at the same time. I crossed my arms and looked away. “I’m just in a bad mood.”
Her brow furrowed; she looked at a loss. I felt bad for snapping at her. But not bad enough to say anything about it.
“Well,” she said, shrugging a little, “can I help?”
“I think I just need to be alone for a little while.”
She hesitated, then wandered back to the dance floor, Boris, and whatever.