Dave Walters was a loudmouth and a loser, but Rosalyn shut up and took the assignment. She had to survive a quick turnaround, just one day of recovery before they left the station again, and Rosalyn spent it throwing out the bottles she had hidden around her company-issued apartment and gear. She meant to keep her promise to Josh Girdy, even if it meant feeling like a headachy piece of shit until the symptoms of withdrawal passed. With six self-help manuals downloaded to her VIT, she decided to eat something real before launch and the monotony of MREs.

The only place on the Merchantia campus that felt anything like Earth was the memorial garden, and there was usually silence there. Artificial sunlight streamed in through a silver web of skylights. Real grass and flowers grew, and a pleasant lightness of pollen floated in the air. It was always cool with mist. Occasionally the fake sun hit the real pollen at the right angle, and it felt like sitting in a room full of tiny fireflies. She dimmed the functions on her integrated augmented-reality display to make the atmosphere that much more peaceful. It was distracting to be bombarded with advertisements and stickers and whatever other bullshit streamed in through her implant.

Once, she had wandered into the garden to see that some jerk-off named Krant had left an animated crying emoji near one of the memorial stones. As a habit she turned off her AR’s functionality in the garden after that. Vit Tech’s slogan was Life, vitally. She hated that it was partially true—everyone needed their stupid implants now. Dating. Weather. Taxes. Shuttle times. Could the average person find their own ass without an AR sticker pointing it out to them?

Rosalyn chewed the sandwich she had gotten for lunch, and idly spun the silver canister of cola in her hand. It would be better if it had a shot of rum in it, but that was out of the question. More than twenty-four hours since her last drink. The jungle drums were starting, the throbbing in the back of her head that said it was time to find a beer or something. The ache, the sound, grew so loud it drowned out the rhythm of her own chewing. She closed her eyes, willing it away. Stronger than that, she told herself, but not by much. Chew, chew, chew, just get through the rough bit. Just ride this out.