From then on, every other day we'd meet up after work and head to one of the info centers throughout the town. They'd stay a few hours, I'd stay a few more, and I'd get home late enough to actually get some sleep before the nerves could catch up to me. It was a good routine, for a while.

We'd rent a research room wherever we went and split the cost evenly, even though it didn't turn out to be as expensive as I'd have imagined. The info we wrote on the boards and materials in the shelves somehow carried over from place to place, and before long the walls were covered with notes on every trail we followed and every tiny piece of information we found, whether I believed them to be true or not. Ayer seemed to believe absolutely everything we found and put stuff on the walls without care, but I was careful to be skeptical.

As time went on, I found myself becoming less and less sick at night. I never trusted the medicines Ayer offered, so I figured I had just caught something strange early on, and it had simply gone away with time.

We'd talk throughout the day, while we researched or sorted through the things we'd found. Mostly questions. They were curious about my world, and I figured it'd be helpful to know more about their world, so it worked out for both of us, as Ayer had said it would.

"What's the most obvious difference between this time and yours?" Ayer asked once, picking through old scientific articles we'd rented.

I didn't have to think hard, it was an easy question. "The buildings. And the lighting, I guess."

"Rightttt, I heard buildings used to be super short before the rods were invented."

"My house was 2 stories tall, the tallest building I've been in was only around 15, and the tallest in my world was a fair bit less than 200."

"Wow..." Ayer muttered. Then they looked out the window. "We're on the 383rd floor... is it strange?"

"...Yea. A bit." And scary, but I didn't mention that part.

They nodded. "And the lighting?"

I gestured to the ceiling. "The lights here, they seem... brighter than the light at home, and, cleaner? I don't really know, it's nothing like I could have ever really imagined at home."

I paused.

"And outside too. The buildings block the sky. There's no sun. No moon. No... no normal lights. No natural lighting. Everything here is lit by this, odd light of yours. Nothing looks right in it. Sometimes it makes me dizzy."

"Wow. Such a simple thing as light has changed so much over the years. And the s-, the sun, no, you really can't see one from here."

They stopped a bit.

"You say the lights are too bright, and they make you dizzy. Can I see your helmet for a second?"

"Sure?" I said as I put my papers down, and as I slid my helmet off I could see them put theirs down also.

They fiddled with the outside for a bit, pressing some buttons I didn't know the purpose of on the side, then handed it back to me. Putting it back on, I was surprised to see that they had somehow made everything darker, as though they'd changed the brightness settings on a phone, but instead with my own eyes.

"Is that better? Those two buttons on the side, under the blue-ish panel, they change the brightness up and down, so you can use them if you want to adjust it."

I looked around the research room through my new eyes, and it was startling just how different it looked. They hadn't changed it much, probably only a few levels down, but it seemed as though they had made the room go from something completely alien, to something I could reasonably see on a sci-fi show or an odd drawing.

"This is a lot better." I said, suddenly hurting a bit. It was making me feel homesick.

"That's good. Can't have you having dizzy spells up on the bridges, even if they would end up catching you."

I stopped looking around the room. "What would catch me?" I asked.

They stopped too. "The... nets?"

"There's nets? Under the bridges we're building?"

"Well, yes? They only appear if they sense that you're falling and have nothing to stop you, but they are there. And between all the buildings. Everywhere."

They paused.

"You didn't know that?"

I shook my head.

"But... but... you work on the bridges? Hundreds of floors up? Did you think, did you think nothing would catch you? If you fell?" They sounded horrified at the thought.

I looked at them for a second, then nodded. "I guess." I said. It was scary. I had to force myself to move most days. But something about their horror made me feel off about admitting it. "It really wasn't that bad," I said. "I still did my work."

They just shook their head. "God, that must have been terrifying..."

And it was. But I just shook my head. "It was fine. I never was afraid of heights anyway." I lied. I didn't want them to feel bad. They didn't need to.

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They sat there for a few seconds, still thinking about it, but eventually they stood up and went back to their papers, and they were quieter for the rest of the day.

Another time, when we were on our lunch break, they asked what job I had.

"Was it a labor job like bridge building, or something more involved with using the new computers?"

"I was in college for astronomy." I'd said as I poked at the food in front of me. Ayer brought the food most days, and while most times it looked relatively normal, I remember that day it looked more like a jellified squid in a potato.

"Astronomy... what was that?"

I paused. "It's..." I trailed off. "...the study of Earth."

I didn't really need to lie, but a part of me didn't want to bring up stars. I didn't want to remind them of that stupid day if I could avoid it.

"Huh." They said, "I guess I pictured you to be someone who studied, uh, space."

I nodded, but inwardly I cringed.

"My mom wanted me to study something more profitable, like medicine, or, Earth." I lied, hoping to bring the conversation more towards my 'Earth' studies, or maybe to my world's medicine.

But of course, they focused in on the one thing I didn't really intend to say.

"Your mom?" They asked. "What was your family like?"

I froze, and frantically tried to think up a lie. I almost said "I don't have one," but I knew that wouldn't fly. A few seconds passed, until I landed on a short, but honest, answer.

"They were normal enough, I guess." I paused, but continued on. "My brother is three years younger, just out of highschool and still with no idea what to major, my dad is a programmer at a small company his friend owns, and my mom is a nurse." I trailed off at that point. Wondered if I should say anything else.

I tried not to think of them, then. And when I did, I got it all wrong. My brother 'is' three years younger, my dad 'is' a programmer, my mom 'is' a nurse. I was in denial, I think. I didn't want to face it, then.

"What were they like?" Ayer asked, and at that I shook my head.

"I don't want to talk about them." I said firmly, finally putting a piece of the squid in my mouth, hoping that it would end the conversation.

"Oh. Are you... not on good terms? I'm sorry. I won't ask about them again."

I didn't bother to correct them, tell them how much I loved my family, how much I missed them. I just didn't want to think about it any more.

The squid burned my throat. So bad it felt like it was on fire, like I could barely breathe. But I kept eating it, forcing myself to focus on the burning, and not on my family that I left behind.

Ayer wasn't the only one to ask questions. There were times when I'd ask them questions first.

"This planet we're on, what is it like?" I asked. "I haven't seen any more of it than the streets we work on and the few around my apartment."

Ayer shrugged. "It just looks like this?"

"All of it? The whole planet?" I thought for a second. "How big is it?"

"No, not all of it, just the parts where people live, and where there's not people there's, uh, you wouldn't know the name, these tall plant tower things, they make oxygen. They grow as tall as the buildings, and weave through the rods to move the oxygen through the cities."

"The whole planet is covered in those?"

"Pretty much. They just cut them down and ship them off when they want to make more room for buildings." They stopped. "Earth has oceans, and mountains, and lots of different living things. This place doesn't have those. It only has the stuff we brought to it. Before humans were here, it was just empty. Did you know of the other planets Earth shared its sun with, in your time? It was like one of those. It's called Mars, it's where most of the animal habitats are."

I had to let it sink in for a moment. They really did colonize Mars. And they moved a bunch of animals there. I imagined it to be a lot like a ginormous zoo. With short buildings and a bright blue sky and ice cream carts and families that went there on the weekends to look at the monkeys and elephants.

"Ugh." I said aloud, before I could mute myself. It made me homesick. I went to the zoo a lot as a kid. Another thing to miss.

"Hm, not an animal person? Well, there aren't very many around here, so you won't have to worry about seeing any."

Any.

"I've been to Mars a few times. It's crazy how there are so many things that move and breath like humans do, they're alive just like us, you know? I mean, plants are too, but animals just seem more so you know?" They paused. "You had lots of animals around in your time, right? I read they were everywhere. In cities, on roads, some even lived in peoples houses. A few planets in this time still do that too, but most of them built up like this one, and most animals don't seem to last very long here."

I really hadn't seen any animals. And I really hadn't noticed.

I felt a wave of loneliness at their words. I'd never had a pet, but somehow just hearing that no one in this world did made me feel even more lonely. Pets were always a source of comfort for my friends. But this world didn't have that.

There was also another time where they asked about my necklace. I had taken my helmet off to eat, preferring to do that rather than use the helmet mods, at least when we were alone, and they noticed the chain around my neck.

"Is that a necklace?" They asked, gesturing to it. I paused in my eating, and looked down towards it.

"Yea." I said, pulling it out of my suit and holding it out where I could see it better. I'd kind of forgotten about it, having been focused on keeping myself busy.

"There are many of those here, there's a building on the next street over from where the work vehicle ended the other day, it's famous for making loads of necklaces and things like that. They don't make it out of that kind of material though, they use, uh, this sort of thing, you wouldn't know it, it's from one of the other planets." They paused. "Where did you get it from?"

I hesitated, then lied. "I just... bought it, one day. It looked pretty." It's nothing important, I almost said, but I felt like that would be a disservice. The constellation carved into its silver surface sparkled in the fake light, and I frowned, but Ayer didn't notice.

"Yea, it is super pretty." They said. "What is the image on it supposed to be?"

"It's, heh, it may not look like it, but it's a hunter. It's called Orion." I smiled a bit, looking at it, but only a little. Donning a more serious look, I put it back where it was. "Just something I've had for a while. It's, well, I guess it's pretty important to me." It wasn't like Io to say that, but I wanted to say it anyway.

"Huh. Orion." They said, thoughtful. "Orion should still be there, shouldn't they?"

"What do you mean, there?" I asked.

"Well, in the sky? It's not like they'd have left. Wouldn't they still be around Earth?"

I stopped. "I... they..." I said, fumbling my words. Stars. My stars. That weren't here. I guess I was afraid of them. Afraid that I'd go through all the hope of seeing them again, only to see something unfamiliar. I didn't think I could do that again.

"Oh, I'm sorry, nevermind, I shouldn't have said that, I'm sorry."

I sat there. "It's... okay." I said, calming myself. "It's my bad."

"No, really, i'm so-"

"Just, leave it. I'm sorry. Please."

"Oh. Okay. I'll drop it. I'm-, I'll drop it. Yea."

And we worked the rest of the day in silence.