The Relentless Moon (Lady Astronaut Universe #3)

by Mary Robinette Kowal

“You remember Mr. Vann, don’t you, Nicole?” I did not. Mr. Vann was yet another flaccid middle-aged white man with his glittering wife in tow.

That’s the problem with taking off something that doesn’t quite fit. Putting it back on is harder.

“I’m fine.” I was rumpled. I had a spot of blood on one cuff. I also had perfect posture and impeccable lipstick, both of which cover a multitude of sins.

Not because of the content, but honestly their rocketry innuendo was embarrassing. They were married. Just say “dick” and “masturbate” like an adult.

It’s amazing how many lies one can tell with the truth.

The ritual sequence of sitting and standing gave me space in which to calm myself. This is the value of ritual and repetition, be it in a cockpit or in a church pew. Familiarity gives us room to breathe and to think.

Kenneth has his church and I have mine. The incense is the heady aroma of petroleum products in the form of fuel and tarmac.

What a world we live in, that sunshine was rarer than being able to talk to my husband from the Moon.

“She doesn’t want to rest. I figure, we let her work until she passes out and then tie her down.”

needed to do more than that. I needed help, because the problem with packing all your emotions away so you don’t become a weeping mass on the floor is that it leaves you cold and dead and ready to drive a trowel into someone’s guts and watch them choke on their own blood and that would cause problems.

Three horrifying sobs tore past my guard. Sounds that should not come from the human throat.