Sheu wun tae twa day afore lukkan. Days o paece,

forgettan, pretendan sheu wisno traikid by histry

(or faimly, whit’s aye the sam thing). An paece is grand,

but the coorse yeuk tae ken if paece is true

or no, an if hid’s gaan tae end, returns.

Sheu digs intae her pack fer the vacuum gansey,

unhaps her bauchelt pod an jacks hid in.

This weys in the data transfer’s driltan –

enerjy’s dear fer aa thay mak hid here –

an whan the infodump is deun hid’s like

a patchwark: twa-month-aald reports comed oot

by slow packets, hilligo advertiseens

an feenty news by faast packets, an only

urjent bulletins by ansible.

The loup tae haaf is ferfil gien the lie

tae infienit informaetion alwis on,

an hid’s waant. An noo sheu disno care whit’s on

on Mars, ivry teullyo maed wanwirt

by space an time. The rampan wirds atween

the ooter Nordren Fed an Angle colonies

is that closs tae claikan sheu jeust ignores thaim.

Sheu ransels instaed fer her aald naem an face.

Whan thir notheen new – jeust the sam

thraets an offers tae thieves an arbitraetors,

ithoot a witter o roon whit wan o the starns

sheu’s birlan noo – sheu shills her peedie pod,

happan hids cell in a sark, hids screen in anither.

Hid isno paece, but hid’s somtheen closs.

Darling plugs into the news

She reachtravelachieved two days before looking. Days of peace, forgetting, pretending she wasn’t trudgetrackexhausted by history (or family, which is always the same thing). And peace is goodbig, but the roughhardnasty itch to know if peace is true or not, and if it’s going to end, returns. She digs into her pack for the vacuum sweaterjersey, unwrapcoverbundles her wornroughdiscarded pod and plugs it in.

This far in the data transfer is slowdreamdawdling – energy’s expensive even though they make it here – and when the infodump is done it’s like a patchwork: two-month-old reports delivered by slow packets, flightygiddynoisycrazy adverts and cursednothing news by fast packets, and only urgent bulletins by ansible.

The jumpspringvault to deep space has veryfearfully given the lie to infinite information always on, and its wantneed. And now she doesn’t care what’s happening on Mars, every fightbroilstruggle made worthless by space and time. The simmersputtermuddlefussing words between outer Northern Federation and Angle colonies are so close to gossipclucking she just ignores them.

She searchsnoopransacks instead for her old name and face. When there’s nothing new – just the same threats and threatoffers to thieves and arbitrators, without any signguideknowingfishhook of round which of the stars she’s whirlrushdancespinning now – she husks her little pod, wrapcoverbundling its power source in a shirt and its screen in another. It’s not peace, but it’s something close.

Noor needs a drink

“Yir no come by ower affens,” says Eynar, awey.

Noor sits hersel alaen at the bar. “My loss,”