The smell was the first thing that hit Salvatore when he came out of the Eagle. After five days in the rarefied air of the craft, and three years in the rarefied air of Moonbase Alpha, the air on Loki assaulted his nostrils with a million different scents which in turn awakened a million different memories.

Memories of being on his father's shoulders as Tony surveyed the Flats, back in the days when the Dover base was little more than a network of caves in the Dover cliff. Memories of running in the shade of the cliffs, scraping his knees on the rough grass and scuffing his shoes on the hard rock. Memories of meeting Becky in the cold air of a late Autumn afternoon.

Things had changed. The Eagle II-5, which Trevor affectionately called the Millennium Falcon II, had landed on the Flats at Koenigshafen and offloaded its passengers onto a tarmacked strip which was obviously a recent addition. Old cargo Eagles littered the Flats, being loaded and offloaded in a deafening noise of machinery and activity.

Trevor left his co-pilot Seba Iwu to taxi the Eagle into the Koenigshafen hangar for a check-up before it did the trip back to Alpha. The passengers' bags were loaded onto a little trolley which Davey and Tim volunteered to pull and Trevor guided the passengers to a temperate shack where they were instructed to wait for the "train".

"What train?" asked Salvatore, looking out of the window when Trevor had left.

"The train back to Dover," explained Davey Kano as he passed. "Something new they thought up since the winter. Habibi's idea of making Dover more attractive, no doubt."

Salvatore looked at the iron benches in the shack and thought about going to sit down with the rest of the passengers. But he had been spending most of his time sitting down on the Eagle and it felt good to walk around. The shack was evidently made from the recycled elements of the temporary accommodation which the Doverians had lived in back in Y11, before Salvatore's birth. The only decoration was a white plastic panel with "DOVER" painted on it in various alphabets, including one which Salvatore recognised as the script used in his mother's area of Psychon.

There was also what looked like a map. Salvatore squinted at it and then moved closer to read it. It was indeed a map of the area, complete with a diagram of the train's route on the flats and the travel tube line inside the cliff. The stylised plan was painted directly on the plastic panel, and Salvatore wondered who at Dover had the skill to produce such a drawing.

He moved back as Celestine Castellano also came to look at the map. She was a skinny thirteen-year-old with teeth that seemed too big for her mouth and loose frizzy hair smoothed back into a short ponytail. Salvatore had paid little attention to her during the trip; she was bookish and quiet, and seemed to live entirely in her mother's shadow.

She looked at the map in silence, tracing the path of the train with a thin finger. Her finger stopped on one of the train stops and she grinned timidly at Salvatore.

"Verdeschi is a place here?" she said. "That's chouette. Really chouette."

Salvatore had learned in the past that the Castellanos used the word 'chouette' to qualify something 'cool'. He looked at the map and frowned uncomprehendingly for a moment.

"It's probably named after my father," he started, before realising that his mother had indeed mentioned that the Northern bay had been renamed after Tony. "My father used to be the Chief Administrator here."

It sounded strange to his ears. Salvatore didn't remember his father as a Chief Administrator, just as his father. But he was probably a local hero down here, not just another original Alphan who had passed away. Salvatore wondered if people would treat him differently because of who Tony had been.

Celestine nodded gravely. "Tony Verdeschi, Chief Administrator of Alpha from 11 to 27." She seemed to be reciting from a text book of some kind. Apparently losing interest, Celestine turned towards the window. "It looks like an old colour movie down here. And it feels so good to be off that Eagle!" she exclaimed. "Really chouette!"

After briefly observing the view, Celestine went back to sit beside her mother. The two were very close; Aisha rarely let Celestine out of her sight. She had admitted to Salvatore that she was terrified her daughter might follow her example and end up marrying too young. Fortunately for her mother, Celestine didn't seem at all interested in boys, or indeed anything other than books, and Salvatore was hopeful that Aisha would get her wish and see her daughter marry someone when she was much older. Salvatore turned back to the view.

The trip down to Dover had not turned out at all as much fun as Salvatore had initially thought. In the first place, Trevor was unexpectedly issued with an Eagle II, which meant that he could carry nearly twice as many people as originally planned. In the few days following this announcement, Salvatore had felt as if half the population of Alpha suddenly decided to go down to Dover on that same flight. This meant that a private party was out, and it also meant having Fatuma along with them. As well as Aisha and Celestine, Tim and his two teenage sisters, Davey Kano and a host of other people guaranteed to spoil Salvatore's plans. The people Salvatore had originally invited all broke up into little groups, amusing themselves with card games and downloaded movies and music. Salvatore had found himself spending most of his time with Hester rather than his other 'guests'. Not that he was complaining. He and Hester had had their share of fun on the trip. They didn't need a party.

As it turned out, partying was the last thing on anyone's mind anyway. They were barely a day into the trip before news came that Alan Carter and Emma Koenig had been killed in an accident near Ceres II. Some of the people on the trip, like Davey and Tim, had known them well and seemed very affected by their unexpected death; their grief made it awkward for anyone else to celebrate. Salvatore couldn't say that he had been close to either of the Carters, but he did grieve for his father's best friend and a young woman who had died far before her time. He also felt sorry for their orphaned children. A few months earlier, the news might have plunged him into another depression. But Salvatore's mind was too preoccupied with the new life he was planning for himself and Hester for it to have a great impact.

Salvatore became aware that someone else had joined him. He turned to find Hester beside him and put his arm around her affectionately.

"Your home sweet home," she said in a low voice. She pointed at the plan on the wall. "That reminds me of a New York subway map. Looks like Dover is getting a transport system like there is on Alpha."

"Yes. I get the impression Dover is a bit bigger than it was when I left three and a half years ago."

"I can't believe you stayed away for three years," said Hester, shaking her head. "Without seeing your old friends and visiting your mother."

Salvatore shrugged. They had had this conversation before; the only explanation he had been able to offer was that he had been afraid Dover would remind him of his father. It did. He only had to look up at the blue sky to remember his Babbo pointing out its beauty to him. But the memory didn't hurt as much now. Knowing the reason for this, Salvatore kissed Hester's forehead.

"Oh, is that the train?" she suddenly asked, pointing at a moving object on the Flats.

It was while before Salvatore could make out the moving vehicle in the distant haze. He could see it better if he squinted. As it approached, Salvatore realised that it was indeed running on some kind of tracks, like the trains in the movies. Perhaps rails and sleepers would be easier to dismantle when the bad weather started again. The 'train' was painted gaudily and Salvatore was suddenly reminded of an Indian film Fatuma had once dragged him to see. He wondered if people would be allowed to travel on the train's roof if it got too full.

As the train approached, the passengers came out of the shack to watch it. It rattled noisily on its steel tracks, but didn't make any of the train noises these things usually made in Earth movies. In particular, it had no smoke coming out of its locomotive, so it obviously wasn't steam-powered.

Salvatore was surprised when he recognised the driver: Karim Habibi. The Chief Administrator hopped out of his locomotive and expertly threw the bonnet open as his few passengers got off. He was accompanied by a little boy, obviously one of his sons. Salvatore and a couple of other men leaned over Habibi's shoulder to see what he was doing. Even though he was no engineer, Salvatore thought the locomotive's engine looked like a modified buggy motor, but he couldn't be sure. Habibi seemed to be removing some kind of plastic-covered container from the engine.

"Put the luggage in the first carriage and then get into the train," he told everyone as he pulled the heavy container out of the engine and headed for the shack. His son followed him, kicking at the stones on the way with the expertise of a child who probably spent most of his leisure time playing football.

"What? No 'welcome to Dover'?" mumbled Davey as he helped Tim pull the luggage trolley towards the train.

Most of the passengers obeyed Habibi's orders, though Salvatore stayed near the locomotive with Hester. Tim and Davey loaded the luggage into the first carriage while the others spread out into the two passenger carriages. They were made of corrugated iron with open sides, presumably to allow people to hop on or get off when the train slowed down enough.

Habibi came back out with another container which he dropped into the engine again. His son skipped along the train, checking that everyone was sitting down and nothing was sticking out, and then got into the locomotive at the other end of the train. Habibi connected the container to some wires in the engine.

"Recharged battery," he explained shortly. He wiped his hand on his overalls and shook hands with Salvatore. "Welcome back, Sal. It's been a long time."

"It certainly has!" agreed Salvatore. It felt strange to meet Habibi again. The last time he had seen him, Salvatore was just beginning to recover from his suicide attempt on Alpha. The encounter hadn't been very memorable.

"This is my girlfriend Hester," he continued, proudly putting his arm around her. "Hester, this is Karim Habibi, the Chief Administrator of Dover."

"Hello. I recognised you from your official picture, Mr Habibi," said Hester, shaking hands with him.

"The oh-so-flattering one of me soft-focussed into beardless adolescence, right?" said Habibi with a grin. He slammed down the bonnet of the locomotive. "I think you can both call me Karim, by the way, especially since you'll be our upstairs neighbours. Here, we'd better be off."

Karim started to walk down the side of the train, where there was another locomotive to run the vehicle in the opposite direction.

"I'm surprised to see you driving the train," said Salvatore as he and Hester followed Karim.

The Chief Administrator shrugged. "It's my day off, and I felt like doing something useful. I enjoy driving the train; Becky says I'm like a boy with a toy. Antonio and I will be playing footie later. You could join us if you're not too tired after the trip."

"Well, ah, I think I'll pass," said Salvatore. He had never been much of a football player.

He helped Hester get up into one of the uncomfortable carriages and then pulled himself in. Karim checked that they were both sitting down before continuing on his way to the locomotive. It wasn't long before the train started up with a loud metallic clang.

It didn't move very fast and Salvatore had plenty of time to admire the cliffs on one side and the lake on the other. The weather was still cool and a cold breeze blew in through the open sides of the carriage. Salvatore looked at Hester as she pulled her scarf out of her bag.

"You were right when you said I had to prepare for a change of temperature," she said, shivering as she hastily wrapped the garment around her.

Salvatore gave her a quick kiss. "I know this place. You can go out in a winter coat in the morning and come back that evening wearing nothing but your underwear."

"Sounds like my Mom's description of New York... only you'd end up like that for different reasons."

Salvatore assumed this was a reference to the 'mugging' that sometimes happened in big cities. He looked out at the greenhouses strewn around the Flats.

"I can't get over how different it all looks," he said thoughtfully.

"I'm surprised you can see that far," remarked Hester.

"There is nothing wrong with my eyesight!"

"No. Just a touch of nearsightedness. You're going to see the doctor at Dover even if I have to drag you," she said seriously. "Your allergy to doctors is no reason to neglect your eyesight."

Salvatore sighed. During the Eagle trip, Hester had noticed that Salvatore wasn't always able to see as clearly as she was. In particular, she had pointed out another Eagle passing the Millennium Falcon II and all Salvatore had been able to see was an indistinct white blur. Tim's sister Dawn, who wore glasses, told him that he was probably short-sighted. The idea of needing glasses terrified Salvatore. Quite a few people did, of course, but Salvatore had never envisaged being one of them. He had always assumed that the blur he saw in the distance was normal.

"I wonder why Karim is driving the train," he said to change the subject. "I can't imagine Koenig flying a passenger Eagle."

"It's Habibi's new toy," he heard someone say. Davey Kano was leaning over the back of their seat. "My mother says little boys on Earth were obsessed with having miniature electric trains. Karim happens to have a life-sized one."

Salvatore looked at Davey, puzzled by his statement but unsure what to say. Despite being an inhabitant of Dover, Davey seemed to profoundly dislike its Chief Administrator. They had been treated to some anti-Habibi rants on the Eagle.

"You really hate him, don't you?" said Hester coldly.

"No, I don't," declared Davey with a shrug. "He hates me. Not the same thing. You'll no doubt hear all about it once you've been in the fish bowl for a few days."

With that, Davey turned his back on them to sit on his seat again. He was one of those who had booked the flight at the last minute. As far as Salvatore knew, Davey had been to Alpha to see his mother and sister, which made sense, and was now returning home to his wife and child on Loki. He had been very distant and hostile on the Eagle, something Salvatore would have put down to grief over the Carters' death -- according to Aisha, Davey had once gone out with Emma -- were it not for the fact that Davey's moodiness was apparent well before news of the accident reached the Eagle.

Still, Salvatore didn't care about Davey. He was bringing his lovely girlfriend to see his home settlement and enjoy some time in her company. Hester was the only thing that mattered.

"Oh wow!" Hester exclaimed. "Oh wowowowowowow!"

She rushed over to the carbonite window in the living-room and pressed her face to it, evidently completely in ecstasy in front of the view. Salvatore grinned at her reaction; he had to admit it was a view well deserving of ecstasy. The small window pointed north east and offered a vista covering the Dover peak, the Flats beneath the cliffs, and Lake Bergman. Salvatore too had forgotten how breathtaking the scenery could be, all blue and green and white in the temperate weather of the early spring.

He joined Hester, who was kneeling on the sofa in front of the window, and embraced her. "Just think, we can look at the view any time we like. Until my mother gets back that is."

Hester smiled as he kissed her cheek, but she didn't take her eyes off the window. "No wonder your mother stays down here... no wonder all the Doverians stay here. Can we go outside?"

"Not directly. The flat doesn't have an airlock, so you actually need to go downstairs and then take the airlock at the top of the Dover cliff."

"That's a pity. Why isn't there a door?"

"Because a door would let in the cold in winter and the heat in summer," explained Salvatore. "You mustn't forget that this place isn't always like this. Next summer, all the windows will have to be covered with heat shields like the ones on the Eagles. During the winter, the whole place was just buried in snow."

Hester allowed herself to sink into a sitting position on the sofa. "I'd forgotten about that," she said. "I suppose that's why this place is half below ground level."

She indicated the window again; the ground was visible just a meter beneath the window. Salvatore nodded, though he didn't have much more to say about the architecture of his parents' quarters. He was about to change the subject, perhaps to say something complimentary about Hester's appearance, but she seemed more interested in the apartment. To his dismay, she got up to inspect the rest of the flat just as he was about to kiss her again.

"So this was designed just as a couple of rooms attached to the Habibi's place?" she asked.

"Yes." Salvatore let out a quiet sigh and got up to join Hester in the bedroom. "Originally, it was a two-storey apartment and the idea was to close the airlock between the two levels during the off-seasons. But then Duncan, the chief engineer down here, decided to make this part so that it was habitable during the bad years, because it joins the meteorological station, which needs to be used all the time anyway. So when Babbo died and Mamma proposed that the Habibis should move in downstairs, Duncan and his brother Chris converted this part to an independent flat. You can tell it's converted because the bathroom is part of the kitchen."

"What?"

Salvatore grinned. "Take a look."

Hester followed his suggestion while Salvatore followed Hester into the other room. He showed her the kitchen area with its sink and pull-out bathtub, and then explained how the cupboard in the corner was actually a separate toilet. In the interest of simplicity, all the plumbing had been kept to a minimum and restricted to one well-insulated part of the flat.

"And your mother lives here?" said Hester, staring with dismay at the little toilet.

"Yep. It was more efficient to put all the plumbing in the same place," said Salvatore, leaning against the toilet door. It swung backward as he touched it and he had to hastily straighten up. "My mother is the worst cook in the universe, so she wasn't very worried about having a separate kitchen. Personally, I'd go mad. I thought the two-burner deal on Alpha was difficult to deal with, but this titchy closed off room is going to be a pain to work in."

Hester turned to look at the small kitchen again and crossed her arms. "Well, at least you won't have to make anything elaborate."

"No, but I was thinking that once we're settled in here, we could invite the Habibis up for a meal. Just Helena and Karim, obviously."

"That sounds good," said Hester with a nod. "Since they're our neighbours and all... Say, why does Karim's wife pronounce her name 'Helayna'?"

"Search me. No idea." Salvatore shrugged and they both walked back into the living-room. "I'm pretty sure she was named after Helena Koenig to start off with."

Hester sat down on the sofa again. The daylight from the window made the curly outer layer of her hair shine golden. Salvatore sat beside her and gently ran his hand over the shiny haze.

"So this is all there is to this place?" asked Hester, leaning against him tenderly. "A living-room, a kitchen/bathroom and one bedroom?"

Salvatore indicated another door in the living-room. "The meteorological station is just over here. That's where my mother spends most of her time. She has a private office there and various labs. She says she doesn't need anything else..."

He paused as he reflected that one of the labs beyond the door featured in his Panther painting as a symbol of Maya's imprisonment in her limited Alpha life. There had been a time when he had hated this little apartment and the change it represented in his life and that of his mother. The tiny place had been a reminder of his father's absence, its proximity to the meteorological lab a sign of how his mother buried herself in her work after Tony's death.

But the painting was up on Alpha and Hester was in his arms. Salvatore dismissed the past and gave his pretty girlfriend a tender kiss.

"So, do you think you'll enjoy staying here for a holiday?" he asked.

Hester nodded. "I can stand it for a holiday, but I wouldn't want to live in here!"

"That's OK: you won't have to. When my mother decides to come back, we can ask for a proper apartment here."

"A whole apartment. Just for a holiday?" asked Hester, raising a dark eyebrow inquisitively.

"Well, yes," said Salvatore without missing a beat. "There's no way I'm living in the Visitor's Section. They don't even have kitchens over there."

"But surely we'd need some kind of job down here to get an apartment."

Salvatore shrugged. "We can deal with that later, all right? Come on, let's see if Maya has left any food in here. If not, we'll have to raid Supplies."

"And then we can get a doctor to look at your eyesight perhaps."

Salvatore harrumphed noncommittally. It would be a long time before he voluntarily went to see a doctor, especially if it meant wearing glasses afterwards.

"Right, how about this one?"

Astrid slipped another lens into the plastic frame that Salvatore was wearing. As if by magic, the letters on the test board became crystal clear. Even close-up objects looked sharper as Salvatore looked around the room.

"This is... good," he said, smiling as Hester's pretty face entered his corrected line of vision. The dark colour of her hair and eyes seemed a lot brighter than it had been before.

"Can you read that bottom line now?" asked Astrid.

Salvatore turned to look briefly at the nurse. She was not improved by his glasses; her skin was still as pink, her small eyes as pale, her nearly white eyebrows as invisible as ever. Although there were three doctors at Dover, Astrid was apparently the ophthalmological specialist.

Salvatore looked at the board again and read the bottom line out loud.

"Excellent," exclaimed Astrid. "Minus 2 dioptres isn't so bad. Since it's started so late, it's unlikely to degenerate."

Astrid pulled the lenses out of the frame and then put them all back into the box marked OPTICAL. She turned to her computer and started typing. Salvatore blinked uncomfortably as his sight reverted back to its usual light blur.

"I'll order the appropriate lenses from Alpha," said Astrid. "You won't have them for another ten days because the optical lab only make spectacle lenses on demand. It's just as well your myopia isn't too severe." Having sent her order, she turned to Salvatore again. "I wonder where this myopia comes from, though. It's usually hereditary."

"Yes," agreed Hester. "My sisters both inherited our father's bad sight. I was the lucky one who got Mama's good vision. But I was surprised when Sal said he was seeing fuzzy things. Didn't your father train as a pilot, Sal? He must have had excellent eyesight."

Salvatore sighed. "Yes, he did. Anyway, I have the answer. I sent my mother a message to ask if she knew where it could have come from. Turns out she was short-sighted as a child, but had it corrected by a machine after she reached adulthood. She'd completely forgotten about it."

Astrid clicked her tongue. "That's not on your file," she said.

"I'm not surprised," said Salvatore shortly. He got up. "Is that it? It's a nice sunny day, and we'd like to..."

The nurse laughed. "Oh, you won't want to go out there when I'm finished with you. Since I have you here, I want to take a good look at your eyes, and that means using a solution which will expand your pupils. Sit down, Sal. We're not finished yet."

"She's blinded me, you know," said Salvatore grumpily, lying on the mat with his eyes closed. "I can't open my eyes, even with these dark glasses."

He heard Hester chuckling and sat up, cautiously opening his eyes. His dilated pupils did not adjust to the bright light, and although the dark glasses did help, looking around was still uncomfortable.

It was worth a look, though. Karim's desire to attract people to Dover was already yielding visible results. The Flats opposite the Parnassus bay had been redesigned as something of an outdoor recreation area. White plastic chaise-longues were laid out on the rocky ground and it looked as though construction was underway to make a small swimming pool. The shore of the lake was still close enough to walk to, but it would recede further and further away as the planet drew closer to the sun and the water began to dry up.

The weather was still too cool for proper sunbathing, but all the off-worlders who had come down on the Falcon were there, enjoying the fresh air. Aisha and Celestine were talking and laughing a few metres away, evidently looking for patterns in the fluffy white clouds in the sky. Tim and Fatuma were sitting further on, with Tim's sisters. Fatuma looked bored; after a while, she said something to Tim and then got up and walked off. Tim stayed where he was, continuing his discussion with his sisters.

Salvatore watched Fatuma wander off in the direction of the Dover bay.

"Hester... Do you mind if I have a word with Fatuma?" he asked. He didn't want to go running off after his ex-girlfriend without letting Hester know what he was doing.

"Sure, go ahead."

Now that he had Hester's permission, Salvatore rushed after Fatuma. She wasn't walking very fast and it didn't take him long to catch up with her.

"Hi, Fatuma! Wait."

Fatuma stopped and waited as he reached her. "Managed to drag yourself away from Dreamgirl?"

"Yeah. Had to ask permission first, though," he said with a grin. They continued to walk towards Dover.

"What's with the dark glasses? Afraid someone might mistake you for the great Tony Verdeschi? They might all bow down and worship you if they did."

"Oh, it's not that bad," said Salvatore. "Though there's no doubt who the Founding Father of Dover is.'

"It was a bit funny seeing his picture in the main lobby of the Visitor's section. I don't think I'd really realised before how much you look like him. Anyway, what's the story with the dark glasses?"

"I just had my eyes tested. It turns out I'm short-sighted."

"What a surprise," said Fatuma flatly. "You're going to have it all. Wife, kids, glasses. I see it now. Throw in a little house with a picket fence and you'll be Mister Suburbia Year 31."

"I'm sorry if I disappoint you. Maybe I'm not the uncompromising artist you wanted me to be. But I can't help that. I have to do what makes me happy and... being with Hester makes me happy."

They had reached the Dover bay. There were more people here; the Doverian dogsbodies went about their tasks among the greenhouses and children were playing in the schoolyard at the back of the bay. Fatuma was silent, apparently lost in thought. Salvatore wondered if she was in love with him, and upset at the idea of him being in love with Hester. It made him feel sorry, because he didn't want to hurt Fatuma. But there wasn't much he could do about it. It was probably best to leave the matter at that.

A female figure was approaching them, though it was a while before Salvatore could tell who she was for sure. It was Becky Collins. She had changed since he had last seen her in Y29; her hair was no longer bleached and permed, but tied up in a bun and streaked with lighter highlights. It was cut short on her forehead, emphasising her large hazel eyes. Salvatore admired her looks and professional demeanour, but felt no particular emotion at seeing her again.

"Hello Sal," she said in a friendly voice.

Salvatore greeted her and introduced her to Fatuma.

"I hope you're both enjoying your stay at Dover so far," continued Becky.

"Yes," said Fatuma unenthusiastically. "It's certainly a change from old MBA. But that Visitor's Centre of yours could do with some redecorating."

"I know," agreed Becky, though she didn't seem too pleased with Fatuma's criticism. "We're thinking about getting someone to do the decorating. Basma Habibi painted the sign at Koenigshafen, but she's not interested in decorating rooms." She looked at Salvatore. "Actually, if you wanted to stay on after your holiday, we might have a job for you."

"Oh, I'm not sure I'm ready to be an interior decorator," said Salvatore, though the suggestion already had his mind working.

It was a week before Salvatore had reshaped the kitchen enough to invite the Habibis for dinner. Even though he knew what his mother didn't enjoy cooking, he was amazed at the number of items she didn't have. No sieve, no potato masher, no wok, no spices in her cupboard aside from a small container of rock-salt and a stale packet of black pepper. The colander and pasta pan which Tony had preserved since Breakaway were covered in thick dust.

Undaunted, Salvatore used his and Hester's rations to get all the supplies he needed, as well as some kitchen utensils. The sieve and potato masher were easily obtained, but there were no woks to be had. Dover had apparently stopped importing certain stainless steel goods from Alpha in preparation for them to be made in their local foundry. In the end, Salvatore borrowed a pan from the Habibis, though he also put an ad on the local boards to get a second hand one if possible. A wok was one thing Salvatore couldn't live without.

Once he had everything he needed, Salvatore set to work. He had always enjoyed cooking, but he took particular pleasure from it since he had started going out with Hester. She was someone who really enjoyed tasty food, so cooking for her was a pleasure.

Salvatore had given himself an hour to prepare everything before the Habibis arrived, but he was still only halfway though his cooking when Hester poked her head around the door.

"Sal, the Habibis are here."

He looked at the clock and realised he had started too late. Although he was a good cook, he hadn't quite got the knack of preparing a meal for a precise time.

"Damn, I'm late," he exclaimed. "It'll be another twenty minutes before I'm ready. I'll come and say hello to them, but then I'll have to abandon you for a while."

"It smells nice," said Hester encouragingly. "I'm sure it'll be worth the wait."

Salvatore kissed her and then wiped his hands on a towel before following her out. Hester had already invited the Habibis to sit down and poured them some drinks. Salvatore shook hands with them both, reflecting how like her father Helena was and how much older Karim looked. The man was really remarkably ugly, he thought.

"I'm afraid I'm still preparing the dinner," he explained. "I should have made it earlier and put it in the oven, but I didn't really think about it. Sorry... I'm sure you can chat with Hester..."

Remembering that he had left the cabbage on the hob, Salvatore smiled politely and then made an abrupt retreat. The cabbage was still in one piece when he went to inspect it, and the onions were caramelising nicely. He was going to regale the Habibis with his own recipe for colcannon, mashed potatoes mixed with cabbage and, in this case, caramelised onions. He had also used the wok to fry a batch of pre-processed nut and lentil puree patties with a salty sauce.

His potatoes were nearly boiled and the patties were turning a nice dark brown when Salvatore heard someone come into the kitchen. Excepting it to be Hester, Salvatore was most surprised to find that it was Karim.

"The ladies are talking about the nitty-gritty of school-teaching, so I thought I'd come and see how you were doing."

"I'm fine. Nearly finished," promised Salvatore, stirring his shredded cabbage. It occurred to him that traditionally, the women were the ones who would have been chatting in the kitchen.

"Good." Karim paused and looked around the room, evidently gearing himself up to say something else. "Do you like cooking?"

"Yes. My father was a good cook... when he put his mind to it."

"I remember... This might sound like a proposition that comes completely out of the blue, but have you ever considered catering as a profession?"

It was indeed out of the blue. Salvatore glanced at Karim in surprise before returning his attention to the food. He needed to prepare two avocados with a mild vinaigrette sauce as a starter. As he worked, he thought about what he should say to Karim.

"I can't say I've ever thought about being a cook," he started slowly. "I don't get on particularly well with any of the caterers, and I trained as a communications engineer anyway."

"Right." Out of the corner of his eye, Salvatore could see Karim scratching his nose thoughtfully. "It's just that we need a cook for the pub."

"The pub?" Salvatore laid the prepared avocados out on four plastic side plates. He noticed that the plates were severely scratched and made a mental note to recycle these and get his mother a new set.

Having finished arranging his avocados, Salvatore turned to look at Karim. He couldn't help but be amused by the Cadmin's unexpected job offer.

"You do know that Becky was suggesting I should take up interior decorating the other day?" he said.

"Yes, we need a lot of people with slightly more... creative skills," said Karim, smiling amiably. His pitted face became a mass of lines. "The decorating can wait, but it's on the cards if you're interested. The pub, on the other hand, is in urgent need of a dedicated cook. You'd only have to prepare one meal per evening, and it doesn't even have to be open every day. Ralph died a couple of years ago, and since then, we've had to rely on volunteers, and it just isn't working. We need someone who can produce food you don't get at the Cafeteria in the Visitor's Section."

"You need a chef," said Salvatore. The idea of himself as a chef was intriguing, albeit also somewhat hilarious.

"Well, yes, if you like. It's a proper job with ration and accommodation benefits, but none of the trained caterers have come forward to take the position. Astrid runs the pub in the evenings, but she's found that she can't run it and cook meals at the same time. She needs someone who isn't doing anything else and who can get the appropriate supplies and cook some enjoyable meals. I heard you were a good cook, and we're desperate enough to accept anyone, as you can see."

Salvatore smiled, pleased at Karim's honesty. "Who said I was a good cook?"

"Your mother... and Aisha Ofori, though I think she was merely forwarding hearsay from her sister. You used to cook things for the Grotto too, from what I hear. And I've also heard a rumour that the Head Caterer herself apparently had good things to say about your talents."

Salvatore was surprised to find that Karim was so well informed about his life on Alpha. The mention of Hillary made him uneasy, and he wondered how Karim knew what she had thought of his cooking all those years ago. Perhaps she had talked to her brother Davey or her sister-in-law Sue Ellen. Salvatore was also surprised to hear that Aisha Ofori had been discussing him with Karim; he wouldn't have thought the two knew each other.

As he drained the potatoes and started mashing them, Salvatore thought about Karim's offer. He remembered that he had enjoyed working at the pub back in the days before his father died, but being the head cook would be another matter altogether. This was something that Salvatore had never even thought about doing. His "proper" job was communications; cooking was just a hobby. Less than that, in fact, since he could say that his hobby was really painting.

"You'd naturally be called upon to do any painting work we need done, too," added Karim. "You already know we need a decorator, and that doesn't just mean painting the walls. You would probably be called upon to do some frescos. I've seen pictures of the one you did in the secondary school and in your apartment on Alpha."

"You seem to know a lot about me," said Salvatore shortly.

"I'm a Chief Administrator; I have to be well-informed," said Karim dismissively. "Anyway, there's plenty of work here. Another thing I know about you is that you never liked working in the Communications Centre. I'm offering you an opportunity to do community work that is more congenial. And of course, Hester would be more than welcome to work in our school if she wanted to settle here with you. Goodness knows we need plenty of people to teach all those children! Over half the population go to school. But if she wants a career change, there are plenty of things she can try as well."

"You want us to move here permanently?" asked Salvatore. He emptied the cabbage and onions into the potatoes and mixed the lot with a fork. "Why? What's so important about me and Hester living here?"

Karim shrugged with a grin. "It would be a crime to have no Verdeschis living at Verdeschi..." His expression sobered. "And to be quite honest, I feel guilty for not helping you more when your father died."

Salvatore emptied the colcannon into an ovenproof dish and then put it and the patties into the oven to keep warm. It was a while before he answered Karim.

"I wasn't your responsibility," he said finally.

"Then whose responsibility were you? It was obvious to anyone that your mother wasn't able to take care of you, and I didn't notice anyone else volunteering to help. As the Chief Administrator of Dover, one of my concerns should be the welfare of all Doverians, especially those who are orphaned or abandoned at a young age. It isn't right for a society like ours, which prides itself on its family ties, to just leave kids to fend for themselves when their family can no longer take care of them. You seem to have done well in the end, but this also happened to Kiri Garforth, Davey Kano and a number of other people I can think of. None of whom are what you might call fine upstanding members of society. So I feel guilty that I didn't do more for you when I had an opportunity."

The whole speech had Salvatore baffled. He was touched to think that Karim cared enough about this error he felt he had committed to now offer both Hester and Salvatore jobs at Dover. Of course, he thought that Karim was only making the offer because of who Salvatore's father had been, but the idea was intriguing nonetheless. Salvatore wondered what Hester would think of living permanently at Dover.

"I've also invited Michael Osgood to move back here," continued Karim. "He's another one who should have been better cared for by the community. Sounds as if he'll need a lot of care after what happened to him, too."

"Yeah. He witnessed the Carters' death, didn't he?" Salvatore didn't really want to discuss Michael. He was still ambivalent about how Michael might feel concerning his relationship with Hester.

Karim nodded. "Yes, I can imagine that would have been quite a shock. I did try and write to him, but he hasn't answered." He smiled. "The truth is that I want to round up any wayward souls out there. We always need to have more talented Doverians down here, and people with off-world experience will always come in handy."

Salvatore arranged the avocado plates on a chopping board which doubled as a tray. "We're ready to start the meal," he said, heading for the door. He couldn't think of anything constructive to say about Karim's plan to lure off-world Doverians back to the fold.

"Well, you have a think about what I said," continued Karim as he opened the door. "Discuss it with Hester. The offer is open; you can go back to Alpha if you need to, but I can guarantee you a job if you decide to move back to Dover at some time in the future."

Salvatore nodded. The idea of moving back to Dover was interesting, but he didn't think Hester would be thrilled at the prospect of doing the same job she did on Alpha in a place she didn't know. For his own part, Salvatore found it difficult to imagine himself working as an interior decorator. Let alone a chef in the pub.

"I have to say it didn't take you long to accept," said Hester. She was standing in the corner of the large kitchen, her arms crossed.

Salvatore was busy inspecting the cupboards. Ralph Buchanan and his wife Petra Droessler had certainly accumulated every possible utensil and pan for their pub. But the thing that impressed him most was the range. It was a custom-built steel range made from a recycled container casing. Like the ranges the Catering people used, it was powered partly by electricity and partly by the gas the sewage system produced. This meant that Salvatore would have an opportunity to cook on an open flame. His father had always said that was the best possible cooking method, and he remembered Hillary mentioning something about that as well. One look at the range, and Salvatore was convinced.

"It's only for the next month or so," he explained as he got off the chair he had been using to look into the cupboard. "It's just a temporary holiday job."

"Yeah, right." Hester didn't look convinced. "Come on, Sal. Karim told me he had asked you to move down here permanently."

"Yes, he did. But that was only three days ago," said Salvatore with a shrug. "I said I would think about it, but I still have time to decide what I want to do. What we want to do."

He walked up to Hester and embraced her. "It depends what you want, too. If we're going to be together, I have to consider what you want to do as well. Would you like to live at Dover?"

Hester moved away and peered into one of the open slots of the range. She finally turned back to look at Salvatore.

"I don't know. I never really thought about it. It'd mean being mighty far from my parents and... I don't know." She half-shrugged and looked down at the ground. "It'd mean a lot of upheaval. I'm used to working at the school on Alpha. I know the kids there and the other teachers. It seems a bit pointless to move down here just to do the same job with a bunch of strangers."

"Well, you know Helena now," said Salvatore cheerfully. The two women had spent a lot of time talking about the school the other night.

Hester rolled her eyes. "Great. Believe me, she's not someone I want to know better. All she did was talk about herself and how wonderful she was with the kids."

"Louisa and Derek are really good teachers, though," insisted Salvatore. "They used to teach me when I was still living here. And you don't necessarily have to stay in teaching here. Karim said he could find us any job we liked. He doesn't seem too concerned about formal qualifications as long as we can do the jobs we want."

Hester closed the range lid and shook her head. "Yeah, I wonder what the Catering section will think of Karim giving you this job. I'm sure there's a rule somewhere that says you have to be qualified in order to feed people."

"Well, I'm not planning on poisoning anyone and I'm sure Mrs Sauique will be coming in to check on what I'm doing. I won't be any more dangerous than the other volunteers they've had in here. Anyway, if the Catering section wanted a caterer to have this job, they should have volunteered one earlier. The post has been vacant since Mr Buchanan died in 29, after all."

Hester nodded, conceding the point. She went to the door which led back into the public part of the pub. Salvatore joined her. The room was dark, with only the emergency lights shining. He could just make out the U-shaped bar which jutted into the room, where the volunteers and bartender normally worked when the pub was open, dispensing food and drinks on demand. Beyond the bar were all the plastic tables and chairs and the plain shermeen-screened walls. Salvatore found himself wondering if he would be allowed to redecorate the walls, just as he had done in the Grotto. He wouldn't paint a naked woman, of course, but he could think of some geometric designs which might be quite effective...

"You want to do this, don't you?" Hester's soft voice broke into his musings.

"Well... It isn't as if I have much going for me on Alpha. I mean, aside from you, that is." Salvatore paused thoughtfully. "I take it you're not very keen."

Hester sighed. "I don't know. It would be stupid not to consider it. It really comes down to leaving my home and I'm... I've just never lived anywhere else but Alpha, and the idea of living down here permanently is a bit frightening."

Salvatore nodded seriously. "I can understand that. I was a bit apprehensive before I moved to Alpha."

"I need time to think about it," said Hester decisively. "I wouldn't be able to leave Alpha permanently until the end of this school term anyway, so maybe we can take things slowly."

He nodded. "Yes, there's no hurry."

There was a long pause and Salvatore was about to suggest that they leave when Hester spoke again.

"I suppose I could do worse than living down here with you, though," she said with a smile. "We should see how well we do living together for a month before we start making plans to live together in the long term. But if... things work out, I think we could settle down here. My mother would go nuts, but she'll survive."

"Well, that sounds like a plan, then," said Salvatore, not particularly upset at the idea of Hester's mother going 'nuts'. "Come on, let's go home."

As they walked out of the pub kitchen, Salvatore thought about his future. He still wasn't sure whether it would involve Alpha or Dover, but he was pretty sure it would involve Hester. And it made a nice change to have a future to look forward to.