She trails a finger over her slate in the curve of her planet, then with a skilledwisemagicalcautious swirl blooms its swellwaves of yellow and scarlet dye. With sharp strokes, the arms of Central Station jutthrust acrossover the screen, and little taptwitchteases and tapchaptakes mark out the constantindustrious piers of Meginwick in the corner of her careful composition.

And looking out of the little viewsurveystudyaiming-bubblebell, down the promontory of Hellay, arm of the church, the shockstunconfusion of the Deep Wheel surrounding her, Astrid feels herself fall, and lift, and fall. Palm flat, she cleanwipes the naturalism from her slate, and begins again, abstract, with only the crumbknot of the thought of coming home

and growing strangedifferent from seeing so little difference. Black lines for the stars, blue poolpuddlemuds for the seatimetides, green arcs for the goodbig scatterspreadspill of wheels and arms and bolas gathered round Central. Rememberknowreflectwilling her lessons from college, she follows sense into shape, and shape into colour, and now she’s closer to the graceglory outside, but closer makes more of a writhingpain.

Again her cleanwiping palm. Again a blankblink. Astrid shutdarkens her eyes and holds the device to her chest, as if breathing was lifting Orcadia to the surface. But the screen waitstaylives barethinbarren, and the view waitstaylives bewildershockoverwhelming, so Astrid settles back to watch and breathe and rememberknowreflectwill, her fingers resting just above the slate.

The pieces Darling’s been

Fer her coman o age she asked o her faithers

a week’s resiedential on Aald Eart.

Nae Ball, nae press confrence, nae giftid

Executiveship, nae ship, even,

tho aa her brithers wis taen the sleekest

o sublight racers. Thay naeraboot

imploded, but sheu wis inherieted airts

an negotiated the week as traed

fer a simmer wirkan at senior manajment.

Mars simmers is ower lang.

That wis the stairt o her travaigan.

Foo wi the guff o fifty square mile

o aald equatorial rainforest, no

landscaepid ava, sheu kent

sheu wadno gang haem, but see as gret

a lot o the seiven starns as sheu coud.

Sheu peyed a ecogaird tae mairk her

on the wrang manifest, an fleed. Sheu saa

the Natralist munka-hooses on Phobos,

whar papar refused ony maet traeted

wi more as fire, praeched wershy beauty.

Sheu saa a demonstraetion staetion

o sepratist Angles: bred, snod,

rich, blond, an weel-airmed.

Her faithers’ credited wirds – first barman,

than teely, than dortan – trackid her

fae Europan federal mines tae stentless

pairties orbitan Wolf. Thay wir even

bowt bulletin time on the ansible network.

At lang an at lent sheu tint thir trackers

on the unregistered Autonomist traeder

whar, awey, sheu teuk her new naem

an body an face, whar sheu teuk time

tae cheuss an recover, at teuk her here

tae Orcadia, the innermosst Nordren staetion,

aence the edge, aence the centre,

pangit an empty yet, wi Darling,

eftir peyan her rodd ower that

grand a piece o space, lukkan

fer a peedie piece tae listen an leuk.

The placesdistancepartwhiles Darling’s been