“That until they send an Israeli ambassador to the Andromeda galaxy, it’s a useless degree. Call your father, he’s a smart man. He says you should study psychological engineering. That’s where the world’s heading. Soon people will start paying a fortune to reengineer their traumas.”

“He never said that to me,” I claimed, and she jumped at the opportunity. “Of course he didn’t. He’s afraid you’ll think he’s trying to influence you,” she said, arms flailing. “Back in my day, parents still had a say in the matter, but today all I keep hearing is how they have to let you kids make your own mistakes. That it’s the only way to get life experience. But you know what happens then? You kids get lost. You make so many mistakes that you find yourself on the other side of the solar system, alone.”

I was quiet again, this time with a certain measure of guilt. Grandma leaned in, placing her virtual hands on my face, stroking it from billions of kilometers away. “What can I say, bubele, you can’t keep putting your life on hold like this, it just doesn’t work that way. You’re not the only person in the world who has questions, believe me. The problem is that no one has the guts to tell you you’re not going to find the answers. Not even on an abandoned asteroid.”

The loudspeaker announced the bus’s imminent departure, and I jumped at the opportunity and told her I had to get going. She folded her arms across her chest and gave me a worried look. I told her I’d call when I could and not to get worried if I didn’t answer, because there might not be a good signal there.

“What am I going to do with you, my dear boy?” she said. “Just make it back in one piece. And take sunglasses, would you? The sun’s awfully strong over there.” I smiled. Her figure faded and disappeared among the dozens of passengers boarding the public space shuttle. I picked up my bag and followed them.

2.