summonan her tae the airlock: her wirds,

at sheu isno heard fer eyght geud year.

Sheu waatched the Deep Wheel approch, gray-green,

hids Central Staetion tirlan yet

anent the yallo yotun, peedie

bolas teddert aroon hids ring,

pierheids trang wi yoles, wi glims,

an fund the gloup atween ootbye an in

clossan slaa – but only noo,

wi this soond, deus sheu ken whar sheu is.

Sheu leuks aroon the ither fock,

tryan tae mynd wha’s uncan, an wha’s

whas bairn, an wha’s gien a naem fae sheu left,

an whas naem sheu shoud mynd yet.

An Astrid leuks tae anither body,

stannan at the vizzie-screen:

taall, pael, reid hair ravsie,

Martian style, gappan at the sight.

Sheu coud been a student fae college, but no

like Astrid, at waants tae waatch her an kinno

disno: sheu’s ferfil bonnie an warld-like

fer Mars, but here i’the ramse poly

habitats o inner space,

sheu’s a aafil queerie sowl.

The visietor leuks aroon an grins

at Astrid, at leuks awey, no kennan

whit wey tae meet incoman joy.

The jaas o the transport appen, a gant

thrumman the bonns o the ship, a kord

whan the gangwey connecks. Astrid’s taen

a peedie an weyghty life on her back,

an whan sheu steps intae the airlock

sheu catches the grief o whit will come

if the pairts o her canno find thir piece.

Astrid docks

The chime of the tannoy is what brings her back, because it hasn’t changed, and neither have the words summoning her to the airlock: her words, which she hasn’t heard for eight goodlong years.

She watched the Deep Wheel approach, grey-green, its Central Station still turntwistwhirlspinning againstaboutbefore the yellow gas giant, little bolas ropemoormarried around its ring

pierheads fullactiveintimate with boats, with gleampointlights, and found the chasmcleft between outside and inside closing laxslowly – but only now, with this sound, does she know where she is.

She looks around the other folk, trying to rememberknowreflectwill who is strangerweird, and who is whose child, and who’s taken a name since she left, and whose name she should still rememberknowreflectwill.

And Astrid looks at another personbody, standing at the viewing screen: tall, pale, red hair roughabundantunkempt in a Martian style, gapingfoolishmindless at the sight.

She could have been a student from college, but not like Astrid, who wants to watch and also doesn’t: she’s veryfearfully finepretty and healthynormal for Mars, but here in the roughcurtbitter plasticpolymer

habitats of inner space, she’s a veryawfully strangequeer soulperson. The visitor looks around and grinyearns at Astrid, who looks away, not knowing

whathowwherewhy to meet incoming joy. The jaws of her transport open, a yawngasp thrumming the bones of the ship, a chord when the gangway connects. Astrid’s brought