“It’s definitely not original.” Rosalyn took the tablet and showed it to him, running her finger under one of the lines. “This I know from my childhood. It’s Shel Silverstein. And this? My best friend, Angela, knew some of these ones, bits of it. She would read it to her kids over vid calls at work.” Her eyes widened. “This next one? That’s Maisy Teng. My mom had a first-edition Maisy Teng signed and under a locked display. She’d read it to me before bed when I was a kid. I never got to touch it.” She blinked a few times and put the tablet down. “And if that isn’t a metaphor for our relationship, then nothing is. What are these, by the way?”

“I found them in Piero’s junk,” Edison explained, tossing the tablet aside and taking her by the shoulder, turning her gently to the side.

“Wow, well then I definitely don’t want anything to do with them. Probably laced with poison. What are you doing?”

“Relax, they’re brand name. It’s just an injectable; you can use them in the suit port. These capsules are compatible with our lab wear, in case you get hungry or thirsty in the field. They link into the suit from the packaging, totally clean.” Edison held up one of the sealed capsules for her to see. “You cool?”

“Yeah,” Rosalyn mumbled. “Yeah, I’m cool, I’m very—ow! Jesus. You didn’t say it would sting!”

“Sorry. Thought it would be better to just get it over with, you know, rip the bandage off.”

“Warn me next time, geez,” she wheezed, rubbing at the closed port on the side of her hip. Then she opened her eyes wide, the direct injection of alcohol making her head spin. “That’s . . . effective.”

“Which means I need to catch up.” Edison grabbed his glass and lifted it, then clinked it lightly against her helmet visor. “Cheers.”

“That’s not funny,” she told him. “I don’t even get to taste the stuff.”

“And that’s a shame because it is oooh. Very smooth.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Rosalyn waved him off with a grin, taking the tablet again and pacing away from the table. She couldn’t let this go. It was too odd, too specific. “Why would Foxfire know these poems? Are you sure you don’t recognize them?”

Edison didn’t follow, leaning against the table and swirling his cup. He put one arm across his middle, just under his pectoral muscles, which had the uncomfortable result of showing off his physique. Rosalyn squinted down at the tablet diligently.