Kiem flashed him a sideways grin out of habit. “Don’t be sorry.” Jainan’s returning glance was grave and thoughtful. Kiem’s smile felt too fake to keep up; he let it disappear. “It took me a few years to realize I was just playing things up for attention. You know, it really hurts when you realize you’re doing what millions of teenagers have done before, especially when it takes you until your early twenties to realize it. I dropped out of college after that, stayed away from bars, then I got Bel.”

“Mm,” Jainan said. He didn’t sound censorious or pitying. He didn’t come back with a flurry of probing questions either. Kiem usually floundered when he had to talk about his parents, but this felt oddly like touching bedrock. Jainan said, “What happened with Bel?”

Kiem seized on the change of topic with some relief. “She came about a year ago from one of the programs I worked with,” he said. “You know, bright people who don’t have the qualifications for whatever reason. I was starting to get asked to the odd event by charities and other people, but when Bel turned up, she figured out that was where I could actually be useful and packed my schedule full of it. Turns out she was right.” They were skimming near the edge of the tunnel, close enough to see the unevenness of the rock wall beside them. “The job was just supposed to be a reference while she found a more permanent place.”

Jainan frowned. “I didn’t realize that.”

“Well, she hasn’t said she wants to go yet, and I’m not bringing it up if she doesn’t.” Kiem drummed one of his feet on the flybug’s floor shell. “Hey, is that the exit?”

It was. Kiem lunged for the route indicator to bring them out of the tunnels.

They shot out into the open air, the flybug slowing to a coasting speed, and both of them fell silent.

Below stretched a singly uninviting expanse of barren tundra. The spine of mountains rose up behind them like fangs splitting the landscape from beneath; Kiem hadn’t been to this area before and wasn’t regretting that choice. “Scenic, huh?”

“There,” Jainan said. “Is that it?” He pointed to a toy-sized sprawl of buildings a couple of kilometers away at the same time as a blaring siren came through the flybug’s audio.

“Hah, the good old military hello,” Kiem said. “Mother uses that as her morning alarm.” He keyed their security codes into a response burst.

Ten minutes later they were gliding into the depressing confines of a standard Iskat military base, pieced together from gray fly-and-drop sheds, rows of generators, and a training ground hacked out of the ice. Kiem parked their flybug and waved to the guards who came to meet them. They were handed over to a helpful young trooper who looked about sixteen, had a strong plains accent, and had clearly never done anything quite as exciting in her life as check in two civilian visitors.