Martians Abroad

“Yes, Ms. Newton?”

“What about Mars?” He raised an eyebrow, and I added, “Are we going to be studying Martian history at all in this class? Or any colonization history? I thought that part of what solidified political conglomerates on Earth was the growing number of settlements outside Earth.” At least, that was what we talked about in Martian history.

“The outer system is covered in next year’s history course.”

“Assuming you make it that far,” one of the girls hissed. I expected Broderick to reprimand her, but he didn’t.

I glared. Then I sat back and kept quiet, because yes, everything at Galileo was going to be like this for the next three years.

* * *

We had a break for lunch, which was nice, because I sat quietly, meekly, all the way through history, biology (again, all Earth biology), and astrophysics (mildly more interesting because we had to talk about something other than Earth and I actually knew most of the answers. I still didn’t raise my hand, because why bother?). I couldn’t sit still forever.

I had time to observe some of the other students, the second-and third-years, as they passed back and forth between their residences and classrooms. They seemed a lot more relaxed, and it was harder to tell the offworlders from the Earth kids. They’d had time to adjust—and it was like Galileo Academy was supposed to turn everyone into Earth kids. Was that why Mom sent us here? It was still weird, thinking that none of them were from Mars. Just us, out of everyone here.

Back in the dining hall, we had sandwiches that actually looked familiar and fruit that didn’t. It was long, narrow, and yellow, and I had to watch someone peel the skin off it to figure out how to do it myself. The twelve of us from the astrophysics section ended up at a table together—not by design so much as convenience. Most of the other tables were filled. I’d lost track of Charles. I wasn’t sure what class he’d had right before lunch.

Tenzig Jones, who wanted to be a starpilot, too, and Ladhi were in this group. The three of us sat together at one end of the table. The rest of the group were Earthers.

“How are you two holding up?” Tenzig asked. His flat accent sounded familiar and comforting after listening to that Earth accent all day.

“I’m in so over my head,” Ladhi said, and she actually looked like she was tearing up, her eyes glistening. I wanted to hug her.

“It’s culture shock, that’s all,” Tenzig said. “You have to get used to it.”

“You’ve been to Earth before this, didn’t you say?” I asked.

“Yeah,” he said casually, like of course he’d been to Earth. “Lots of times. I go with my parents on business trips.”

“Well, I hope I get used to it soon,” Ladhi said.

George, the Earth guy from breakfast, spoke in a fake whisper loud enough to carry. “Embryos don’t develop correctly in low gravity,” he said with the certainty of his convictions. “Sure, you can inject supplements to increase bone density and muscle mass. People born offworld may look human. But there’s something about the way the brains form—they never turn out quite right.” He brought his finger to his temple and made a spinning motion, the universal hand signal for “wacko.” That translated just fine.

And that was what everyone in the school was thinking, wondering what we were even doing here. I glared. Even though Charles would have wanted me to ignore him, I had to say something. “Off-planet, fertilization is in vitro and embryos are put in incubators and spun up to full gravity to gestate. We’re just the same.”

George shook his head, tsking. “That sounds so … mechanized. It just isn’t the same. But I suppose when you don’t have the benefit of being here on Earth, you do what you can to cope.”

“We cope just fine—”

“Polly—” Ladhi said, her voice low, her hand on my arm.

I shrugged her away. “I’m fine!”

“That’s exactly what I’m talking about,” George said, leaning close as if confiding in his friends. “Brain development is stunted. Leads to poor impulse control.”

Like he was some kind of walking disciplinary report. I’d punch him, I really would. Tenzig chuckled, shaking his head. “It’ll all come out in the scores, dirtsider.”

George smiled wickedly. “Looking forward to

it, vacuum head.”

The Earthers turned away from us, huddled together in private conversation. The laughter was audible, though.

“That’s the trick,” Tenzig said, still smiling. “Not to take it personally. It’s all a big game.”

“I thought games were supposed to be fun,” I said.

“Games are for winning,” he answered.