Someone screamed. It was Mother’s voice, from above. From the gauge deck. Then a second scream. Not a second scream from Mother, but a second voice screaming as if she was injured or trapped.

“Pythagoras!” she hissed. The only curse word that Mother let her use.

Metal responds to prybars and spanners, but people’s brains respond to shouting and shame

“Father, can I short-circuit the secondary feeds with the heat wrap again?”

“Are those the batteries,” she asked. “No, those are the seeds. We don’t eat them.