“This way,” Uncle said. Hand on her shoulder, pushing her forward. Frustration welled in her at the push, but she bit it back. Her legs hurt, her stomach hurt, her shoulder hurt. All for different reasons. Standing too long while wearing a full backpack, bending down and lifting, and a bit of a sprain when she pulled her bag off a shelf on the train.

But if she complained, then Auntie and Uncle would say it was her fault, because she’d packed too much stuff. They might even make her leave things behind.

No way. Nuh uh.

Because there was no going back for anything. What she brought with her was all that she got.

She couldn’t complain because she was on the cusp of being an adult, and none of the adults were complaining. They looked so miserable, every last one of them, standing in lines, trudging forward. Dragging bags and kids and pets with them.

“Next!”

Again, being pushed, being tugged along, Uncle’s hand on her shoulder. She shrugged, as casually as she could, and his hand dropped away.

“Name?” the man at the counter asked.

“Gregory Morrison and family,” Uncle said.

She wasn’t even a name. Just ‘and family’, not even direct family at that. She looked at Eleni, her kid cousin, who was whining even though she didn’t have to carry anything. The seven-year-old pawed at her mother, kicking up more and more of a fuss, until she was picked up.

Acting like a toddler more than a kid.

So annoying. It was hard to shake the bitter resentment.

Auntie, Uncle, and the man at the counter were talking about possibilities. She strove to listen.

“There are subsidies and grants if you’re willing to do the farm work. We really need to get on top of food supply so we can stop taking grants from other Earths.”

“Insane,” Auntie said.

Insane. All of this was insane.

“Is that a no?” the man at the counter asked.

“No, no. I mean the other Earths. I knew it was a thing, but…”

“Yes, well, in the interest of moving things along, I recognize you want answers and you’ve been waiting a long time for processing, but if we can hurry you through this step, you can get those answers sooner and the people behind you won’t have to wait so long.”

“That’s more or less what they said at the last few steps in the process,” Auntie said, sounding very affronted. She was good at sounding like that. Always stiff-backed and hypocritically critical and politely impolite. It was like she had an unwanted foot-long dildo stuck up her ass twenty-four seven, and every interaction she had with the world was an obstacle in between her and her next opportunity to go somewhere private and drag that thing free.

“What are the other options?”