VISUAL EFFECTS / CH. 10:PACKING LIST

6PM, FRIDAY 20TH MAY, 2270, ALICE'S HOUSE.

“Hi, Evangeline, Chris! Thanks for coming,” Alice said.

“You've got a nice home,” Evangeline said.

“It'll be sad to leave it. It was my parent's. I'll have to empty it, mostly, and try to find renters.”

“So you are coming to Mars?”

“Yes. We've got our invitations, and we've decided we're going. Didn't Simon say? He'll be along later, by the way.”

“He didn't, just that you had some more questions.”

“A whole mega list of them, yes. Like, what should we pack, and would you two be happy to travel as a foursome?”

“Very,” Evangeline said, “it's always good to find people who aren't Jits to travel with, and you two aren't.”

Alice laughed, “My first question might put me firmly back into that category, be careful!”

“What is it?” Chris asked.

“It goes like this. To build up a heap, you need plant matter. You need a heap to mix compost with the soil, to provide nutrients and water retaining stuff, and so on. But people have been growing plants in what's not much more than nutrient-adjusted water and regolith for centuries. Why not take enough chemical fertilisers to grow ten or twenty square meters of something, starting week one?”

“Hydroponics you mean? Great idea, but it won't fly,” Evangeline said.

“Why not?”

“The control equipment and all the processing plant weigh far too much.”

“Urm, you must know something I don't. I was thinking of mixing the right mix, watering regularly, and letting the plants do the rest. I guess a time switch and a little pump might be better though.”

“Yeah, it ought to work,” Chris agreed. “Sounds pretty much ideal, actually. Dad did some hydroponics when I was young. It's great for out of season vegetables.”

“But... hold on! Let the plants do the rest? You mean you can grow real plants in a hydroponic setup? Not just algae?”

“Chris, I'm just going to put the finishing touches to dinner. Can you educate Evangeline?”

“My pleasure.”

----------------------------------------

6.30PM, FRIDAY 20TH MAY, 2270, ALICE'S HOUSE.

“This is amazing!” Evangeline said. “And it makes real sense out of Grandpa's diaries!”

“You're convinced?” Alice asked.

“They did it. The firsters, I mean. They started off with doing it this way. There's a comment early on about there being no more chemicals for the plants, it not being sustainable, and how they'd have to do it the hard way now. But as a way to build a heap, it's a great way to go.”

“I'm not surprised. Using hydroponics explains something else too.” Alice agreed.

“What's that?” Evangeline asked.

“Mars Corp's shipping list. They don't import biological material, not enough to pay people's wages. But they do ship in masses of nitrates and phosphates and so on for their hydroponics systems. Everyone knows that. I wouldn't be at all surprised if they add dead algae into the goodstuff.”

“They don't import biological material?” Evangeline asked.

“No. Not much, just seeds and the like. Why should they? Why import carbon dioxide when there's plenty in the atmosphere? They can import the other nutrients, and grow the stuff on Mars. It's a far far more efficient way of doing it.”

“Please, Alice, please! Don't publish that idea, not yet,” Evangeline said.

“Why not?”

“You'll destroy the whole Martian economy.”

“It does rather undermine their statements on Mars about how much goodstuff is worth in Earthling money.” Chris pointed out.

“And therefore wages, and people won't want to work, won't want to pay for food, and so on. Let us get off the bio-material standard first. The idea of Mars Corp skimming off the top was far better than this.”

“Do you think I shouldn't publish anything?”

“I don't mind you publishing about kick-starting your heap this way. It sounds a wonderfully subversive way of undermining Mars Corp. Just... get there first.”

“And check that there are no limitations on shipping the nutrients,” Simon said, “You don't want to get in trouble for shipping banned substances.”

“They ship enough of it themselves, but yeah... they might have been that nasty.”

“It's a crying shame you can't just go dig up your own regolith,” Evangeline said.

“You can't?” Alice was surprised.

“Naah. It needs processing; there's some nasty salts in there, perchlorates. That's another thing Mars Corp does right.”

“Eva?” Chris said.

“Yes?”

“Just now, you said something about your granddad's diaries.”

“Yeah, well. Try not to let it worry you, and don't tell anyone, OK? It's bad enough me letting on. I'd already let my mouth run away with me talking to Alice, but she's used to keeping dangerous secrets.”

“Thank you for your trust, Evangeline,” Alice said, “you're right though. I've got a legal right and an ethical duty to protect my sources. Quite a list I'm growing on this story.”

“Oh? Who else?” Evangeline asked.

“Mustn't tell.” Alice grinned, “But, just so you know, my editor knows that I'm talking to a Martian. No other personal information shared except I might have let your gender slip.”

“Thanks.”

“So, back to the big question... what gets made on Mars, what's rare or unobtainable?”

“Don't bother taking digging-tools, anything that's just roughly shaped metal, like spades and stuff. Do take natural fibres, leather, clothes. Also do take precision metalwork, jewellery, precious metals. No one's discovered gold on Mars yet, so for electronics it's either imported from Earth or the asteroids. Donating it is seen as helping industry, so if you want to buy an extra bit of claim then think in terms of shipped gold, ten grams per hectare.”

“Can I ask what's a normal claim?” Chris asked.

“It varies, Chris. My invitation counts as from before the population hit half a million, so you'll get a hundred. These two university lecturers, the lucky things, probably get a hundred and fifty apiece, but that's only because most lecturers don't stay. These days most immigrants get seventy five hectares, and at the moment crims get ten hectares after ten years of good behaviour.”

“So claim sizes go down as the population grows?”

“Yes. It's seventy five hectares for people who come between half a million and the one million mark, then it'll be fifty until it hits two million then it'll drop to thirty hectares, and it'll be there until four million. At which point we'll have claimed something like one and a half percent of the planet's surface.”

“I think a square kilometer sounds fine to me,” Chris said.

“Does to me too, especially if at least some of it is somewhere pretty.”

“Pretty?” Chris was taken aback.

“Well, Chris, I'm assuming that we're going to get married. Tradition rather says that doesn't happen until after you've harvested your first decent crop, by the way. At that point, my parents probably make noises about us moving into our own place. I'm guessing that'll be on part of my claim, especially since I've been improving it. But planning for the future? Somewhere pretty would be my preference, somewhere we'd like to go on holiday to, which one day might be filled with spring flowers, or water falls, or one of the other wonders you get on this planet.”

“I'm guessing you've got more than a hundred hectares.”

“I'd be on their hit-list, yes, Chris. Except that Scaredy Jim's statistics persuaded the council that they don't mind people registering claims with several different names.”

“Different names?”

“Yes. I'm Evangeline Durrel. I've also got aliases of Eva, Angelica, Theodora and various others. All with different surnames, of course.”

“Does that mean that the council's population count is wrong?”

“No. The council have a list of true names, just there's no paperwork held by the council that links aliases to true names. I have pieces of paper that say those aliases are mine, and of course the official claim paperwork, which acknowledges that the named owner is an alias. All hidden somewhere very safe, I hope. Mars Corp just get the claim geometry and the name, so they know nothing.”

“So the finger was pointed at Mars Corp?”

“Or the shareholders. No one knows really knows, that's the problem. But back to packing?”

“Yes. What about domes, tents, screamers, all those things we're going to want as soon as we land?” Simon asked.

“Local products, priced in kilos.”

“Freeze-dried food rations?” Alice suggested.

“For the journey? Certainly. I'm pretty sure you could trade them once you get there, they'll almost certainly get more valuable the longer you hold on to them, within reason. Don't wait until they're past their date, or the next influx arrives, of course. Or until people are getting their own harvests.”

“What about paper? Surely you don't grow trees for it?” Chris asked.

“No. What we call paper on Mars is actually a plastic.”

“Oh, right. What did you mean about precision metalwork?”

“Pins, needles, small tools, zips, clothes fasteners, anything jewellery-like, a sewing machine, if you've got the luggage allowance.”

“Crochet hooks?” Alice asked, thinking of her mother's sewing kit.

“Certainly.”

“What are you going to take, if it's not a rude question?” Alice asked.

“Depending when we go and how much I can afford, a sewing machine, a knitting machine, cloth, pins, needles, thread, and so on. Clothes, and leather too.”

“A knitting machine?” Alice queried.

“It gets cold on Mars. We've got plastic factories and they make synthetic wool, but knitting it is just so time consuming. I saw a knitting machine, told my mum and she told me I had to buy one.”

“They make synthetic wool but not sewing thread?”

“Oh, they make it. It comes in black for ultra-violet proof, white for normal and glow-in-the-dark, for emergency repairs to a tent or a dome.”

“Oh, right. So would you recommend we get similar stuff?”

“Probably not. Well, there's no reason not to, except luggage allowance.”

“What would you recommend we take?”

“If you're going for good? Your treasures, memories, pictures, things you'll miss if you don't have them. Then see what else you've got space for. Cutlery, crockery, pots and pans. You can get cooking pots on Mars, but you'll wish you'd brought them from home if you could have. The things I mentioned, yeah, they're good for trade, and long term life, but you can do without.”

“What about pincers, pliers, screw-drivers, things like that?” Simon asked.

“Thanks for the reminder,” Evangeline said, making a note on her wrist unit. “Screw-drivers and spanners are available, but pretty poor. It's the specialist finishing, hardening, exact mixes of metals, that sort of thing we don't really have.”

“This is all adding up,” Simon said.

“I know,” Evangeline said. “The sooner we leave the better, really. My course is finished, Alice has enough to set her on the right track we hope. Chris, when did you say you'd be able to leave?”

“End of term is the seventeenth of June, graduation ceremony is the twentieth, in the morning. Provisional exam results are on Tuesday the seventh. I might get an oral exam any time until the fourteenth, and I only find that out on the seventh. So I can't really guarantee I'm free until the fourteenth.”

Alice looked up the schedule. “There's a colonist flight on the fourteenth, another flight on the fifteenth, no sorry that's from the moon. On the seventeenth, there's a tourist sprint. Hmm, then a gap for some reason, oh! There's an unmanned cargo drone going. Then there's a slow flight on the twentieth, and another on the twenty second, same cargo, and another on the twenty-fifth, which is ten percent less cargo, and after that it looks like each flight is twenty percent less. The cargo drone says passenger luggage in advance. What's that? If you can't leave earlier, you can split your ticket?”

“Yeah, they'll take stuff for you earlier, but you don't want to trust the cargo drone. They sometimes get glitched, and you only get your stuff after some tug has found it and chased it down. That could be five years or even longer. Its odd that the ship on the twentieth has the same cargo as on the twenty second. What are the ships called?” Evangeline asked.

“The Jupiter and the Celestia respectively.”

“Oh wow! Celestia's still flying? That's the ship my Dad went out on. I've heard about the Jupiter. New, ultra-high tech, big big big ... My vote would be for the Celestia, even if not for Chris's graduation.”

“Why?”

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

“Because I bet the engineer knows every little trick she might decide to play, and has her firmly under his thumb. The Jupiter's too big, they're getting greedy. Plus of course, the Celestia's got a water jacket.”

“What's that?”

“A swimming pool cum-radiation shield. The Jupiter's got a shield made of something like tent material. Which is fine, as long as no one's sewn it together wrongly. My opinion is it's very hard to accidentally make a hole in the water of a swimming pool. Plus, according to my Dad, you can swim in it if you ask the captain nicely on a day when there's no storms. No promises about that, though, the rules might have changed.”

“Probably,” Chris said, “Swimming in space seems far too luxurious.”

“Dangerous might be a better term,” Simon corrected, and Evangeline agreed.

“Dad said it was very easy to get disorientated.”

“So, are we booking the twenty second?” Chris asked.

“I think so,” Evangeline said. “But you have told your parents, haven't you, Chris?”

“Yes. I also told them I might not make it to the graduation ceremony. They didn't seem that bothered about that, but I think it would be nice.”

“What about you going to Mars?” Simon asked.

“Mum said, 'the moment I heard you say you'd met a girl from Mars, I knew you were going. That was my one hope, that you'd meet some nice sensible Earth girl and lose interest.' Dad said 'good job yer brother's not got 'is head in the clouds. He'll look after the farm, I'm sure.'”

Evangeline laughed, “Does he really sound like that?”

“No, I toned it down for you. I expect he'll be a bit mollified when I tell him I'm going to get a hundred hectares.”

“Land's important to him?”

“The farm's been in the family for centuries, Eva.”

“Then I might whisper to him how big my claim is, as long as he promises not to tell.”

“What and spoil his bragging rights?”

“Hmm. All right, we can tell him I got a hundred hectares by being born, each of our kids will get fifty on the same basis, and I stand to inherit some too. That much is going to be pretty obvious to everyone.”

“What is the average family size on Mars?” Alice asked.

“Four or five kids per couple is sort of normal.”

“Wow. You know it's mostly one, or two here?” Alice asked.

“I'd heard. Anyone would think you were over-populated and short of land.”

“Not to mention that we got close to Venuforming the Earth.” Simon chipped in.

“Yeah. Alice, are you sure you're ready to come? Simon's let the youth group meet in his flat once or twice, I've seen Chris's. They're really ... I don't know, like I'd expect for a new Martian.”

“What does that mean?”

“Basic. Functional, nothing that doesn't do something, except maybe a picture of Mum, Dad or their pet dog, or something like that.”

“So what does an established Martian home look like?”

“This, I guess. Without so much lovely wood. But you're talking mature second gen established.”

“Well, this was my childhood home. I own it. Simon and I guess Chris are in rented flats.”

“I guess that's it. But... this is roots, you see? You've got roots here. And roots are hard to leave behind, ask any plant. And you're still going to be working for an Earthling company. That's even more roots.”

“You're worried about me going?”

“Yeah, well, sort of. I think your plan is spot on, you being there, not just as a tourist, that's really important if you're going to get the interviews you want. But, yeah. Seeing this place reminds me of Wannas staring at their photos of their old homes.”

“You think I'm going to turn into a Wanna?” Alice asked.

“Not a real Wanna, because you've got the contract that says you can go home if you want to. But... I'm not sure you're going to turn into a real Martian either, with all these roots here.”

“In about eight months, Hohhman-orbit ships leave, don't they? With a cargo-mass of something like a metric tonne for a standard ticket.”

“More like nine months and half a tonne, but yeah.”

“What would you say if I told you I planned to sell this house, and stuff the contents onto a Hohhman ship?”

“I'd say you'd need a mighty big dome to fit it all in. Are you really?”

“It's an option. It doesn't do me any good here if I'm staying there, after all.”

“But would your company pay for that ticket?”

“Relocation expenses? I don't know. They might go half and half. I was assuming that part of the price I got for selling the house would go to the ticket.”

“Wouldn't that be a terrible wrench?” Evangeline asked.

Alice gazed at her steadily. “You're right, there are memories here. Lots of them. Some are bad memories, some are good ones. I've never had to think seriously of moving before, but I've played with the idea: make a clean start, get away from the nightmares. But I wasn't sure it would work and it just seemed like too much hassle. I think I'm more a people person than a thing person, but more than that, I'm a..., I don't know, a principles person, if that makes sense. Truth matters, right and wrong matter, trust matters.”

“So me asking you not to publish the truth about the economy...”

“What would you say if I said I'm going to undermine it first?” Alice asked.

“You're what?” Evangeline exclaimed.

“If I write about my experiments with hydroponics, then thinking people ought to realise that if nine thousand people a year start bringing enough nutrients to feed their plants for a year or two, without constantly panicking about their heap...”

“Then you'll open the door for mass immigration,” Simon said. “Mars Corp have probably been planning to say 'Hey your heap is great as a long term solution, but we've just remembered, the firsters did really well for the first few years with just chemical nutrients. You publishing it would just push forward the timetable.”

“And there's plenty of the right chemicals in the soil,” Chris added, “'Now we've got this super new chemicals plant coming on line, so just pick up bag of nutrients, a book of instructions, and farm you Jits.”

“New chemicals plant?” Alice asked.

“I hope they're not making one,” Chris said. “But I'm just extrapolating. There are loads of phosphates, nitrates, sulphates and the like on Mars.”

“Mars Corp are nothing if not detailed planners,” Evangeline added.

“And the big three shareholders want to forget all about independence and open the immigration floodgates.” Alice pointed out. “I'm glad I'm not going to Mars alone, I can see this turning into a dangerous assignment.”

“How sure are you about that?” Evangeline asked.

“Them wanting to scrap the quota system? I need to protect my source, but I'm sure.”

“The quota was at least partly based on gloop production, you know. And that is limited by importing nutrients. I'd love to know if there's been any changes in the gloop loops.”

“They've got the Jupiter, and three more giants being built.” Chris pointed out “That's a lot of nutrients.”

“If people came basically empty handed, except for food rations, then how many people would those ships carry each?” Alice asked.

“The Jupiter can deliver four hundred tonnes of cargo,” Chris said, “If everyone was on a hundred kilo ticket... Four thousand? That's crazy!”

“Hold on, there's a ship going with something like three hundred and fifty tonnes of cargo plus passengers, and a there's a cargo drone going? What are they taking?”

“New heavy-duty fertiliser plant?” Chris suggested.

“And / or loads of gloop feed,” Evangeline said. “They are ramping up for mass migration, aren't they?”

“Probably. Would that actually be a problem?”

“It means rapid changes.” She thought for a bit. “Actually, what it probably means is they're going to squash the Mars council.”

“Because the council represents the quota?”

“And the contract with the firsters,” Evangeline said. “Oh man, I really wish I trusted the net to get this idea home in secret. But Mars Corp have probably got a quantum decoder to point at messages, haven't they?”

“Almost certainly,” Simon agreed. “They don't want anyone smuggling anything.”

“So, either I take a risk, or we try to speak to the council quickly?”

“What can they do?”

“Currency change would be good,” Evangeline said, “but otherwise? I don't think anyone wants to turn the planet into a war zone. Mars Corp are already dropping comets on us, after all. All they need to do is say 'Oops something went wrong, sorry about the crater'.”

“So, we're back to a public relations exercise," Simon said.

“Yes. If only there was some way of getting some of this public,” Chris said.

“Yeah,” Evangeline agreed.

“If I am having to learn patience, I don't see why you youngsters shouldn't.”

“You're learning patience?” Evangeline asked.

“One of my sins was related to impatience, corner cutting. Get to the story quickly.”

“Oh. I understand. I think.”

“No you don't,” Alice said. “But maybe you will one day.”

Simon's eyebrows almost disappeared at that.

“Trust is important, Simon. Evangeline has told her deadly secret, after all.”

“Well, yes.”

“So you trust Chris and me enough to tell me you've been cutting corners getting stories, but not enough to say how?”

“Exactly,” Alice said.

“Deep dark sins there then,” Chris said.

“Now see what you've done,” Simon chided. “You've made them imagine all the horrible things someone might do to get a story quickly, like bribe people, or break in to offices.”

“We could tell them that they're not likely to guess,” Alice suggested, totally unrepentant.

“You're winding up to tell them now.” he accused.

“I'm not sure. We could rely on the low probability that anyone believes me.”

“I did.”

“You had it proved to you.”

“And you just said you need to learn patience. And you've also claimed that you don't trust easily.”

“I think that bit might be the old me.” she replied, then mentally asked, [can we think about this?]

Simon nodded slightly.

“Do you have any idea what they're talking about?” Chris asked.

“Oh it's obvious,” Evangeline said, “Simon knows about Alice's big secret, it doesn't seem to worry him much, so I guess it's not that she drugged people into submission or tortured them. But for some reason he thinks it's better not to share it.”

“And it's something that can be proven, too.” Chris pointed out, “So it must be something Alice knows how to do. So I'm guessing she can climb office blocks to listen at windows.”

“You'd get arrested for that sort of thing, wouldn't you?” Evangeline asked.

“I guess so. They've gone awfully quiet. Is it hypnotism? That'd be a good way of getting a story if it was real.”

“Eugh,” Alice said. “No. Let me tell you some of the truth. Not all the details, but enough, OK?”

“Are you sure?”

“I think its the right thing to do.”

“And what about Simon?” Evangeline asked.

He shrugged. “I think I understand her motives for telling you. There might not be a safe time to tell you, otherwise.”

“And you might need to know, and understand, and believe,” Alice added. “But it might not fit comfortably with your theology, I don't know.”

“Our theology?” Chris asked.

“Yes. When I was young, I don't actually know how old, God gave me a spiritual gift. I still have it, in part. My sin was abusing it, using it for my purposes, not even accepting it was from God, and not honouring God with it. I'm not sure what your understanding is about spiritual gifts, but based on my experience they're still around, and can be abused.”

“People with the gift of preaching might use it to feed their pride, or gain themselves a public following,” Evangeline said.

“Thank you. One of the reasons I hate lies so much is that I'm better than average at spotting them. When I use that gift, I can see what they're trying to hide too.”

“You mean, like Peter confronting Ananias and Sapphira?” Chris asked.

“Maybe, I don't know. I guess it's possible,” Alice said. “It's there, available, I can use it. And most of the times I think of doing so, I mustn't. But maybe, one day, I'll tell you something I shouldn't be able to know. And you might just have to trust me to be right.”

“Alice's gift works on people,” Simon said, quietly. “I have something similar that works on machines and people, but not in the detail Alice gets. I'd just be able to see someone's being deceitful, or a machine isn't trustworthy. I don't need to use it to tell you're really struggling to believe this, but it's true.”

“Simon spotted that an I.D. reader had been tampered with last Friday.” Alice said. “My contact in the police who we alerted says that she doesn't know how Simon spotted it, but it was a good call. It had only grabbed ten people's I.D.s, and the waiter hadn't sold them to his underworld contacts yet.”

“That's another thing we don't really have on Mars,” Evangeline said, deliberately giving her mind to process this strange revelation, “this whole I.D. network thing.”

“So how does it work? Paying for things, I mean?”

“Your wrist unit and a password. I log into my account, tell the processing plant to credit you. You get a message saying it's arrived, sale completed.”

“Not so very different then,” Chris said.

“No.”

“And when someone buys stuff with earthling money, how does that happen?”

“Oh, that happens with I.D.s, but since it can be hours before confirmation comes through there's a lot of trust involved too. How did you prove your gift to Simon, Alice? Got him to lie to you?”

“No. I don't need someone to lie before I read his mind.”

“Alice!” Simon protested. He'd asked her not to say that.

“Well? That's what I can do, isn't it?”

“No. that's like calling the gift of tongues 'speaking in gibberish'. It's a crass characterisation of part of what God in his infinitely confusing wisdom has given you the gift of doing by his Spirit.”

“I think I might have offended him,” Alice told Evangeline in a stage whisper. Then added in normal tones, “But Simon's got a point. I thought of it as reading people's minds for a long long time, and that wasn't helpful.”

“And you're sure this is from God?” Chris asked.

“Yes. If I'd not doubted that, then I'd probably never have gone away from Him.”

“You can really read minds?” Evangeline asked.

“Depends what you mean,” Alice said. “Can I look up what you said to you mum the day you left Mars? Well now you're thinking about it, probably. Before you heard me mention that? No. But I won't look, not without justifiable and due cause. I abused it, using it for frivolous purposes, and God's told me I need to learn patience.”

“How are you going to know you've got due cause?” Chris asked.

“I'm going to think it over with Simon, I expect.”

“Does convincing me you're not taking the mickey count as a trivial reason?” Evangeline asked.

“Simon, help, please!” Alice asked.

“Why don't you compromise?” he suggested.

“How?”

“Hold her hand.”

“But that's.... Oh, OK.”

“'But that's' what?” Evangeline asked.

“Not officially part of the spiritual gift. At least according to someone who ought to know.”

“Who?” Evangeline asked.

“Someone else with the spiritual gift I spoke to a long time ago, when I was learning a bit about it.”

“So you're going to prove you've got a spiritual gift by using something that's not part of it?”

“Yeah.” Alice grinned. “But you probably don't think I can do that, either.”

“What's that?”

“Hear your thoughts.”

“Hold on, I thought you said that was your gift?” Evangeline said, in growing confusion.

“What I was told, is that there's a natural ability some people have of hearing the thoughts of people they touch. There's a spiritual gift of doing the same to anyone you think of listening in to, wherever they are, or if they're close, getting a glimpse of what thoughts and memories and attitudes lie behind the thoughts that lie behind the thing you were just thinking.”

“And you can really do all that?” Chris asked.

“Not really. I did try it once or twice, a few years ago, to get a story. I had terrible dreams that night, woke up screaming, and couldn't do that deep thing any more. I can still do the 'I don't need to touch you' bit. I used to get nightmares when I used that unworthily too. I want to only use it rightly, to be convinced that I'm using it properly. Like it says in Romans, if I'm not sure it's not sin, then for me it is.”

“So, no demonstration.” Evangeline concluded.

“I don't think so. If God says otherwise, I'll let you know.”

“You think he might?”

“I don't know. He said I could use it to talk to Simon, which I thought was a bit... common a use, but who am I to argue? It certainly made asking for Simon's help with Samuel easier, and helps in ethics questions, so maybe that's why.”

“You mean it's two way?” Chris asked, fascinated.

“To some people, yes, — the ones who can hear thoughts, according to my old teacher. It's a bit like holding hands, like I said.”

“So if I want a demonstration, I hold your hand?” Evangeline asked.

“And think something you don't mind me repeating aloud,” Alice said.

Gingerly Evangeline held out her hand.

“Hey, I said something you don't mind me repeating.” Alice rebuked her, Evangeline had been wondering what she ought to think of, and how she'd feel a complete Jit if she thought of inheriting over two thousand hectares from her grandad. Then she mentally swore at herself for thinking such a thing.

“What did she think of?” Chris asked.

“She wasn't sure what to think of and thought what a Jit she'd feel like if she thought of how big her claim was. Then she thought 'what have I done?' or words to that effect.”

“Thank you for editing that, Alice,” Evangeline said, “both parts.”

“It's my fault, I should have told you to think of a poem or something like that, shouldn't I?”

“Urm yeah. Let's let Chris have a go. Make sure you don't think of your most embarrassing moment, Chris,” Evangeline said.

“I love you too, Eva,” Chris said, firmly sitting on his hands.

“Do I take it the demonstration worked?” Simon asked.

“Yes. Don't misuse your gift for us, Alice.”

“I'll try very very hard not to. Oh, there's another part, again real needs only. I used to be able to spot people — by name or by categories.

People trapped in an earthquake is the common example. I don't know if I have that these days, and I'm pretty sure I'd not want to use it for something commonplace like a wandered off child who's probably just round the corner.”

----------------------------------------

8PM, SATURDAY 21ST MAY, 2270

“Sue, I have a question for you,” Alice said.

“Yes?”

“You don't happen to know anyone who's looking for a house do you?”

“Your home?”

“Yes.”

“Err, maybe. Are you thinking of selling or renting it?”

“Renting to start with, probably selling later on.”

“What's the rent?” Sue asked.

“Who's the tenant? I'm prepared to negotiate, depending how much I trust them.”

“Well, our office is going to move soon. Mick and I were thinking of looking for a house.”

“Here?”

“Yes, next month or two.”

“Maybe that's why I had a sudden thought I should ring you then. We're launching on the twenty second.”

“That's certain?”

“My ticket has been booked and paid for, Evangeline's told MarsCorp what flight she wants for herself and Chris, and Simon's booked his flight on the basis of his invitation.”

“Oh wow, OK, that's pretty certain isn't it?” Sue agreed, “So your house will be empty unless you find someone to rent it?”

“Yes. Are you thinking of buying or renting?”

“Our initial plan was to rent for a while, work out which part of town we want to be in, in terms of travel to the office, and so on, and then work out if we can get a mortgage.”

“Where's your office going to be?”

Sue told her, and Alice laughed. “Were you thinking of a minimum travel time?”

“Minimum? Is it close?”

“Well, you're not going to get fit walking there. Five minute's walk, I'd guess.”

“Oh wow. Where's your house?”

“Cromwell Road, if that means anything to you.”

“I think we parked there when we were looking at the office. Is that possible?”

“Very.”

“Beautiful houses, but far more than we can afford.”

“You're thinking of the other end of the road, I expect. I live at the cheap end, but there's a short-cut half way along. Sue, why don't you come over for lunch tomorrow, and have a look.”

“You're sure? We haven't talked figures.”

“I know. I actually need to do some research before I do.”

“Oh, OK.”

“But if you don't mind not using one of the bedrooms for the first half a year, then I'm pretty sure we can come to an agreement that suits everyone.”

“How many bedrooms are there?”

“Three and a half. You'll see. You're coming? Simon will be here too, strangely enough.”

“I can hardly refuse, can I? How are you getting on with each other?”

“We've agreed to be sensible this time around.”

“Since I don't know what you talked about last time, that doesn't help much. I presume last time was when you were finding out where his desk was?”

“Yes. I seem to remember we were talking about what time of year made the most sense for our wedding, if we really needed to wait until we both finished university, and how many children was a good number.”

“Wow.”

“Young and foolish is the appropriate analysis.”

“But... you've got that history, and it wasn't just based on feelings, was it?”

“No. But nor was there any timing information. So maybe we'll decide that actually we'll just stay friends for the next couple of decades.”

“Do you think that's likely?”

“That really depends on too many things, Sue.”

“Like how much you like life on Mars?”

“For instance. I'm not going to decided on selling before I know the answer to that one, by the way.”

“That sounds like good sense.”