There were eight orbitos in total. Each identical. Each containing five hundred active life forms. And each equipped for efficient space survival. Clothing came vacuumed-sealed, the food dehydrated. You remained clean. You remained healthy. You did not waste resources.

Each orbito was a flawless operation at all times.

It was how things had to be.

Orbito One was the first of its kind, built onto the historical International Space Station left over from pre-global-warming. The ISS was the oldest reminder of what life had been in the past. Romy believed it was this relic—her closest link to the ground—that triggered her passion for Earth’s history. Sparked the uncontrollable urge to learn all she could about their lost home.

Romy, daydreaming just for a change, walked into Thrym, who’d stopped in front of her.

“Sorry,” she mouthed, earning a fleeting wink from the man and even a rare smile, which showed bright white against his black skin.

With Thrym, you usually had to watch his blue eyes for information. He didn’t show much. Perhaps it was due to being the most serious and focused of their group. Romy smiled; she could always rely on Thrym to have his dark hair shaved to regulation and his possessions neatly stored in his small personal compartments.

“Knot 27, reporting for Debris,” Elara stated as a red light scanned the trio.

“Wait!” A thin shout echoed behind them.

Romy grinned as Deimos and Phobos hurtled into sight. Running was strictly prohibited, everywhere, at all times—not that it ever stopped the twins.

They didn’t really look alike, aside from their startling green eyes, but everyone called them “the twins” because the pair was rarely apart. Their wavy, shoulder-length hair reminded Romy of pictures of the surfers she’d read about, from a time when humans would stand up on streamlined boards in the ocean for fun. Needless to say, the length of Deimos’s black hair and Phobos’s dark blond hair was in violation of the chin-length maximum—another rule they somehow evaded. All space soldiers were attractive, a vanity of the Orbitos’ creators, but the twins were drop-dead gorgeous. No doubt, this helped the pair escape punishment time and time again. Romy could attest to their effect, having been on the receiving end of their innocent green gaze on several occasions.

Their entire knot was scanned anew in front of the Earth Dock entrance.

A clinical voice replied, “Authorised.” The voice sounded like that no matter who replied from the control deck.

“Oh goody,” Deimos replied.

Phobos tied back his blond hair. “I keep hoping one day they’ll say ‘access denied’, but it never happens.”

Romy’s four knot mates were the closest thing to a family she’d ever had—or would have in this life cycle.