They weren’t allowed to scavenge off the colonists for meals, but a little exchange of condiments never hurt to spice up the standard rations that they ate; Sarah felt a little sorry for them as her food was undeniably fresher and better-tasting. The League had rules governing interaction between the maintenance crews and the colonists, and Daniel upheld them fully. He had explained it to her once this way, “It would not be fair for us to accept meals or anything of real effort from some and not others. We have to be able to serve everyone equally.” He was steadfast and she admired him because of it.

When they had all finished eating, she volunteered to give them the tour of what was new. Greg stood outside of the kitchen and yawned. “The same old colony setup, huh? How long before we get back to Mangeta?”

Sarah froze. She felt transmuted into brittle glass, as if the merest touch would shatter her. Daniel pulled Greg aside and upbraided him harshly, but it was no use — the words were said. The images of Sirius’ major inhabitable planet ran through her mind as if in a movie sequence on fast forward: all the places she had heard of, thought about, fantasized about. It wasn’t Earth, but it was outdoors; it was life; it was freedom; it was hills and lakes and places to run and people. Mangeta was a place he saw every month, but she would never see.