Chapter 4
When I got home, Mom was very gentle.
She handed me a nutrition bar and said softly,
“Xiaoba, I did it for your own good.”
“How will you ever grow up if you don’t suffer a few setbacks?”
I looked at her.
“By growing up, do you mean giving up like you did, then pinning all your hopes on your daughter?”
A strange expression crossed her face.
“You look down on your mother, but aren’t you exactly like me?”
“We’re Mars immigrants. In the eyes of people from Earth, we’re failures.”
“Even if you went to Earth, they would only despise you.”
I shook my head.
“You’re the one who despises yourself. You always have been.”
Mom shook her head through her tears.
“Xiaoba, you can’t speak to your mother like that.”
I packed my few belongings and headed for the door.
She blocked my way.
“You can’t leave!”
“What am I supposed to do if you go?”
I stopped and looked at her.
“Mom, you’re simply used to putting all your hopes in someone else.”
“You’re still young. Find another job and start again.”
Only that day did I finally understand.
Mom’s life wasn’t my responsibility.
Only by separating from me could she truly grow up.
Once the termination record was uploaded, my housing privileges were downgraded.
I endured seven long days in a filthy, airless abandoned transit station.
There were no beds, no partitions, not the slightest scrap of dignity.
People slept curled up inside boxes.
Some were dismissed workers. Others had failed their skills assessments.
At daybreak, I squeezed into the crowded Basic Services Hall.
An electronic display hung high beneath the dome, scrolling through temporary job listings:
“Spacecraft hull cleaner. 9 credits per hour.”
“Manual wastewater-filter sorter. 68 credits per day.”
“Low-temperature warehouse assistant. 74 credits per day.”
Machines used to do these jobs.
Humans were needed only where wear and tear on machinery would cost too much.
After waiting in line for ages, I secured a waste-sorting shift.
The work site was on Level Forty-One.
The air was terrible. I couldn’t stop coughing.
Wearing gloves, I crouched beside a conveyor belt and separated metal, plastic, and biological waste.
After twelve hours, I received sixty credits.
On the way back, I bought the cheapest nutrition bar I could find.
It tasted awful, but at least it filled my stomach.
In the third week, I couldn’t get work.
Only twenty-seven credits remained on my card.
The sleeping boxes at the transit station had begun charging ten credits a night.
I couldn’t afford one, so I had to sit in the public lounge.
The lights there stayed on all night.
Announcements played without end:
“Do not occupy public resources for extended periods.”
“Residents without fixed employment should register at the Basic Services Hall as soon as possible.”
“Skills change destinies. Strive to become irreplaceable.”
I buried my head between my knees, my nose stinging.
I had worked so hard to change my destiny.
Now I was crouched here, unable even to feed myself.
How was I supposed to keep my promise to Ah Zhi ten years from now and save enough credits for a trip to Earth?
A woman beside me kept coughing.
The announcement system warned her,
“Abnormal physiological noise detected. Do not disturb the public environment.”
The woman buried her face in her sleeve and tried to cough more quietly.
I closed my burning eyes and curled up as best I could for a nap.
Sometime before dawn, someone nudged the toe of my shoe with his foot.
I opened my eyes.
A man stood in front of me.
Looking down at me, he held out a mango-flavored nutrition bar.
“Never tried this flavor, have you?”
I pressed my lips together and turned away.
He smiled.
“I don’t mean anything by it. You just looked so pitiful, I thought I’d tell you about an easy job.”
A glimmer of hope rose in me.
“What kind of job?”
“Relax, it’s easy—and completely legitimate.”
“You’d just keep people company. Chat with them, have meals, watch movies…”
I understood at once.
There were plenty of jobs like that in Mars’s underground city, with titles such as “emotional companion” and “personal assistant”…
All the blood in my body seemed to rush to my head.
What made him think I would accept that kind of work?
Seeing my reddened eyes, the man spoke as if he already understood everything.
“Don’t be so quick to say no, girl.”
“I’ve seen plenty of young people like you.”
“You’re all determined at first. Go hungry for a few more days, and you’ll fight over any work you can get.”
He tore open the mango nutrition bar right in front of me.
Its sweet fragrance immediately filled the air.
I tried to master my hunger.
My stomach betrayed me with a growl.
He grinned smugly.
“Do you know how much a sleeping pod costs now?”
“Do you know what happens after a month without a fixed address?”
I tightened my grip on my backpack strap, my heart sinking.
Of course I knew. If this continued, I would be “reclaimed.”
The man took a bite from the nutrition bar and spoke lazily.
“My advice? Say yes now.”
“Wait another few days, and the work I can offer you won’t be nearly so respectable.”