“Adri!” she said, her voice rumbling, lively. “I thought you’d never get here! I’m so sorry I wasn’t up to greet you.”
“Um, hi, Ms. or . . . Miss Lily . . . Mrs.?” But her cousin cut her off by wrapping her thin arms around her and pulling her into a tight hug. She smelled like flowers.
“Lily,” she said. “We’re not fancy around here.”
Adri untangled herself stiffly as Lily stood back and took her in, beaming. “How’d you sleep, honey? How was the trip?”
“I’d prefer Adri if that’s okay,” Adri said. She didn’t like terms of endearment from people she didn’t know.
Lily widened her eyes and nodded fake-solemnly, amused. “Gotcha. Did you sleep okay? Do you like your room? How are you feeling?”
“Um. Yes, yes, and good?” She accepted the mug of coffee Lily shoved into her hands.
“Well I’ve tried to get everything in good shape. No one’s stayed in that room in years.”
“I guess this place is pretty remote,” Adri offered.
Lily shrugged. “Nah. It’s just that I’m old and all the people I used to know are dead.” She breezed on. “Cousins. US! Hard to believe, huh? Your great-grandpa is my mother’s little brother. My mother was in her late thirties when she had me, and let’s see . . . he was sixteen years younger, and when he had your grandfather, he was . . .”
Adri sipped her coffee in reserved silence as Lily bounced around the kitchen, printing eggs and bacon onto two Styrofoam plates from the KitchenLite on the counter. She kept glancing over, taking in Adri’s scraggly hair, her oversized pajamas.
“Out of eggs,” she said to the refrigerator. It was one of the older models that needed to be told. “So I guess you can tell I’m a talker,” she said to Adri, laying the plates on the table.
“I’m not,” Adri said. “Especially in the morning.”
Lily nodded significantly. “I’ll let you catch up with the day a little.” And she made a show of zipping her lips. But she kept on staring at her as they sat down. Every once in a while she said “hmmm.” And then “huh.”
“What?” Adri finally asked.
Lily looked embarrassed. “Well, I was expecting you to be less . . . Well, you’re a Colonist, you know, a big overachiever. I thought you’d be so . . . polished and tidy . . .”
Colonists were loved the world over, and they had been for as long as Adri could remember. As the planet’s best and brightest, they spawned action figures, docudramas, and colors of eye shadow (Maybelline made silvery Phobos and purplish Deimos in honor of the two moons that circled Mars, but they also made a pink Ella and a deep-blue Lakshay for two of the best-looking Colonists who lived there). They were supposed to look the part, she supposed.
Adri didn’t know what to say. “I’m in disguise,” she finally said, and Lily barked a laugh.
“What’s your specialty?” Lily went on. “All Colonists have a specialty, right?”
“I’m cross-trained in biology and engineering. I’ll study samples and fossils. Most of us need to know how to fix stuff.”
“Oh,” Lily said, and wrinkled her nose. “Sounds hard.”
“Having all your loved ones dead sounds hard,” Adri responded, which she knew as it came out was the exactly wrong thing to say.
Lily looked surprised but not put off. She sipped her coffee. “Yeah. That’s true.”
Adri glanced around as they ate, uncomfortable under Lily’s friendly gaze. Everything around them sagged. A shelf hung from one nail above the sink, ready to fall down. Two cabinets were losing their doors. The fridge—covered in angel magnets—was ancient, one of the old ones not linked to the internet so you couldn’t order food. She wondered why Lily didn’t have someone come fix things.
Their eyes met, and Lily put her chin on her hand. “Now . . . I know you’re still waking up, but I really want to pin this down. I’m your dad’s dad’s mom’s brother’s daughter . . .” Lily clasped her hands together. “I saw this thing on TV about ancestry that says even personality traits can get passed through the genes. I think . . . Now are you an INTP or an ISTJ? I think you’re an ISTJ . . .”
“Do I have to answer that?” Adri asked.
“No.” Lily looked a little hurt, then after a few seconds, she muttered under her breath, “Probably an INTJ.” Adri wondered how many genes she and Lily actually shared. They both had the same pointy chin, so it was vaguely detectable that somewhere in a giant family tree that had lost all its branches they were connected.
“Hey, Lily?”
“Yes.”
“Maybe now would be a good time for me to pre-apologize. I’m not really a friendly kind of a person. I’m not charming or anything. I’m, like, the opposite of that.”
“I’m gathering that,” Lily said, her eyes mirthful.
“I just want you to know it’s not you or anything. It’s just the way I am. I really appreciate you hosting me. I’m really grateful. I just don’t think we’re going to be buddies or anything.”
Lily studied her. She was about to speak when something drew her attention to the window. “That must be for you,” she said, crossing the room and opening the front door, waving her forward. “I never get packages.”
A tiny dot in the sky was getting closer and closer. Mail was coming. Just as the drone came level with the porch, it dropped its load with a thud onto the top step, and then lifted and flew back the way it had come.
Lily lifted a box and handed it to her. It read Adri Ortiz, Colonist. Adri’s pulse sped up.
“Looks important,” Lily said. “I’ll give you plenty of space.” She walked to the porch stairs and turned for a moment. “Who knows, you may find out I’m not that much of a friendly person either. Wouldn’t it be ironic if I killed you in your sleep tonight?”
Adri stared at her in surprise.
Lily grinned and walked down into the yard.
Adri found a kind of library/TV room behind the kitchen—full of lopsided, inviting old furniture and lined with shelves bursting with old paper books. She sat on the couch and opened the box.
A Pixo lay on top, and as she held the tiny box in her palm, an image of Lamont Bell lit up above her hand, his own hands folded.
Welcome to Kansas! You are one of the elite individuals who has shown you have what it takes to be part of our team on Mars. We’re so fortunate to have you, and I’m looking forward to meeting you! Our first session is scheduled for November 1 at 10:00 a.m.
About a month before launch, you and I will meet individually in order to finalize your commitment. Until then, know that this is a time to confirm that we are a right fit. The next several weeks will allow you to familiarize yourself with our process, but it will also be a time for reflection. Twenty percent of our recruits find that they are unable to commit to the reality of leaving their home planet behind, and since we want only wholehearted commitment, we support this kind of self-inquiry.
Please arrive at the Center on time for your session.
Thank you.