The problem, Gregor thought, wasn’t how to get to Mars. The problem was how to get back to Earth.

He saw that now. This was Matti’s idea, and like all of Matti’s ideas, it was a bad one. He shouldn’t have told Matti about Moonage Daydream: if he hadn’t told Matti, he’d still be talking about it and not stuck up here without enough credit to go home. He didn’t even have enough to breathe tomorrow, much less pay a fare. Not even a luggage berth.

Another problem caused by Matti and booze, just like his second wife. “This is just like Jenny,” he said aloud.

“What’s just like who?” said a husky voice over his shoulder. Hope had an Elvis smile, or maybe just a tic. “I got us a ride,” she said.

“I’m not getting frozen,” Gregor said. “Freezing is for peas.” Matti shot him a dirty look.

“Psh,” Hope said. “As if. Cryo makes me look like a Gorey debutante. You’re willing to work for air, right?”

Matti gave a noncommittal shrug. “Sure,” Gregor said, “what’s the gig?”

“Stevedores,” Hope said with a half-smile.