How was I supposed to argue with that?
I crossed my arms and glared. “I don’t want to go. You can’t make me.”
“I’ve already let the supervisors at your internships know that you won’t be participating. The next Earthbound passenger ship leaves in two weeks—you’re allowed five kilos of personal cargo. Most of your supplies, uniforms and the like, will be provided by the school, so you shouldn’t need to take much with you.”
“Five kilos on Mars or Earth?” Charles asked. He’d been scheduled to start an internship in colony operations. He’d run the planet within a decade. We both had plans.
“Mom, I’m not going,” I said.
“Yes, Polly, you are.”
Charles hadn’t moved, and he still wouldn’t look at me. Why wasn’t he saying anything? Why wasn’t he arguing with her? He didn’t actually want to go, did he?
If he wasn’t going to help, I’d have to do this myself, then. “I’ll submit a petition to the council. I’m old enough to declare emancipation, I can still get that internship—”
“Not without my approval—”
“If I declare emancipation I won’t need your approval!”
“—without my approval as director of operations,” she said.
That was a really dirty trick. That was pulling rank. And it wasn’t fair. Charles raised a brow, as if this had suddenly gotten interesting.
Mom took a breath, indicating that I’d riled her, which was a small comfort. “Polly, you need to plan long term here. If you finish at Galileo Academy, you’ll be able to pick your piloting program. You’ll qualify for a program on Earth. You’ll be captaining starships in half the time you would be if you went through the astrodrome program here.”
Right now my plan was interning at the astrodrome between semesters learning maintenance, traffic control, and support positions like navigation and communication. I’d have to finish school, then try for an apprenticeship while I applied for piloting-certification programs—and no one ever got into a program on the first try, the process was so competitive. I’d have to keep working, adding to my résumé until I finally made it, and then add on a couple of years for the program itself.
If what she said was true, this Galileo Academy was impressive enough that I could get into a piloting program on my first try. Which sounded too good to be true. She held this out as the shiniest lure she could find, and I was furious that I was ready to buy in to the scheme.
I’d had a plan. She could have at least warned me that she was plotting behind my back.
“But why does it have to be Earth?” My voice had gotten smaller, like now that the shouting was done I was going to have to start crying. I clamped down on the impulse.
“Because everything goes back to Earth eventually.” She looked at my brother. “Charles? Do you have anything you want to say?”
“No,” he said. “You’re right, it sounds like a wonderful opportunity.” I couldn’t tell if he was mocking her or not. He might have been serious and mocking at the same time.
Her smile was thin. “I’ll be home for supper tonight. We’ll talk more about it then.”
Dismissed, like a couple of her underlings. I stormed out of the office, Charles following more calmly, and the door slid closed behind us. We walked home. A straight corridor led to a another corridor, long and curving, that circled the entire colony. Plenty of time for stomping before we got to the residential section and our quarters. Not that Charles stomped. He seemed oddly calm.
“Why?” I asked him. “Why is she doing this to us?”
“You should look at it as an opportunity, not a prison sentence.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
“My guess? She wants us to know what Earth is like. For real, not just in the propaganda.”
That actually made sense. “Okay. But why?”
He looked at me down his nose. The don’t-you-ever-think? look. “It’s where we’re from.”
“We’re from Mars,” I said.
“‘We’ as in humanity are from Earth. The dominant political, social, and economic structures that define us are still dependent on Earth.”
“So we’re just supposed to automatically think Earth is great.”