boy!”
“Water’s heating now, Mum,” Alice cried, running back from Tank Three.
“Well, but I wanted to tell you about our ideas—if it would be all right—” said Mr. Morton.
“I’m sure it will be when I’m not so busy, Mr. Morton,” said Mary, grabbing a pushbroom and going after the sand again. “Rowan, did you and Manco reinstall the filter the new way we discussed?”
“Yes, Mum, and—”
“See, I thought we might raise four thousand pounds easily if we put on a sort of cabaret in here,” Mr. Morton continued earnestly. “Like a dinner show? I could sing and do dramatic recitals, and—”
“What a very nice idea, Mr. Morton, and I’m sure I’ll think about it, but in the meanwhile I need you to get that sack of oats out of the storage locker.”
“And I thought I could do a striptease,” said Mona.
Three broom-pushes before the meaning sank in, and then:
“Striptease?” Mary shouted. “Are you mad? When the BAC already sees us as a cesspit of immorality and substance abuse? That’d really frost the cake!”
Mona pouted. “But you said when you were at university—”
“That was a long time ago, girl, and I needed the money, and—Mr. Skousen, put the damned holocam down! This is a private conversation!”
“And we need the money now! We
never
have any money!”
“Ladies, please—” said poor Mr. Morton, his face pink for once.
“The oats, Mr. Morton. Mona, you will keep your clothes on until you come of age and that’s all that will be said on the subject, do you understand?”
“What’s this?” said Manco, emerging from the utility area and holding out something in his hand. He had an odd look on his face. “This was in the bottom of the bucket. The clay cracked apart and—”
“It’s a rock,” said Mary, glancing at it. “Pitch it out.”
“I don’t think it’s a rock, Mama.”
“He’s right,” said Chiring, squinting at it. “It looks more like a crystal.”
“Then put it on the back bar with the fossils and we’ll ask one of the geologists about it. What was that?” Mary looked up suspiciously. “Who’s that? Who just threw up?”
“It was me,” said Alice miserably, emerging from behind the bar, and Rowan ran to her with a bar towel. Chiring swung the holocam her way.
Mary ground her teeth. “Food poisoning. Just what we all needed. That devil-worshipping looney—”
She started for the kitchen with blood in her eye, but was stopped in her tracks as Rowan said quietly: “It’s not food poisoning, Mum.”
Mary did an about-face, staring at her daughters. There was a profound moment of silence in which she continued staring, and the three men present wondered what was going on, until Alice wailed: “Well, I didn’t think you could
get
pregnant on Mars!”
“Was that what you were fighting about this morning, then?” Mary demanded, having marched Alice into the kitchen and ordered the Heretic out.
“We weren’t fighting,” said Alice. Mary ground her teeth. The girl was probably telling the truth; Alice spoke to most of her suitors as though they were idiots. Curiously enough, they always seemed to adore her for it; for a while at least.
“Is he the father, then?”
Alice shrugged. In the gloom of the kitchen her face bore an unsettling resemblance to her grandmother’s, perpetually offended. “I suppose. Who cares? It’s not like I’m having it anyway.”
“Yes, you bloody well are!” Mary fought back an urge to slap her. “Don’t you dare to stand there before the Goddess and tell me such a thing! You could have used a Happihealthy if you didn’t plan on catching, and why didn’t you, may I ask?”
“I only meant I’ll probably lose it,” said Alice hastily. “And as to why we didn’t use anything—we’re on
Mars
, remember? None of the women in Clan have ever been able to have babies up here. This place kills everything.”
“Well, it hasn’t killed
you
. As soon as the boy gets off his shift