I wake up to sirens.

“Shit. Sorry, folks. I forgot about disarming this part. Hang-on a second.”
The truck immediately halts. U.V. begins speaking in subdued tones to a device that’s wrapped around her wrist. It almost looks like it’s made out of tumble-wire. She holds it up to her eyes for a moment, as though she’s doing a retinal scan. She turns back to us, nonchalantly continuing with her guided tour, completely unfazed.

“So 188 hectares were chosen as the site of the Central Experimental Farm and Arboretum. This is the land that we’ve got now. It’s all ours. We’ve got Marquis wheat, Preston lilacs, the Explorer series of roses.”
“You mean that in a non-colonialist sense, right?”
“On the prison-colony side of the moon, Miraj, sure. Hey Jo, use that bridge over there.”
“You mean the broken one?”
“I fixed it. I know it still looks broken, but trust me. I fixed it.”
“Whatever you say, U.V.”
“Comme vous etes droles.”
“Yeah, we’re gonna take that bridge and then there’s a bell jar we can use -”
“Tu veux me dire que nous allons arriver toutes suites?”
“We’ll have to go a little ways on foot -”
“Quoi?! Mais qu’est-ce que tu prends, toi?”
“Oh, Colette. It’s good exercise.”
“Tu ma rien dit comme marcher -”
“How do you get away with being SUCH a diva, Colette. Really. In our line of work...”
“Being a diva IS my line of work, U.V.”
“Of course it is.”

Our truck has just crossed the broken bridge when suddenly, what looks like an ornate iron mesh gate appears in front of the truck. U.V. hops out, plucks a large, old-fashioned key from her pocket, inserts it, and the door swings open. I’m watching U.V. as she enters the gateway. I can see her entering, but I can’t see anything on the other side. It looks like a gate sitting in the middle of a lunar desert, with a bridge on one side and nothing but a continuation of the desert on the other. She simply disappears. Then she waves her hand back out at us, so that it looks like an arm has emerged from thin air. Very cool. She shouts to us and it kind of echoes all around.
“Are you coming or what?”
Opening the door, Jo jumps down, and walks around to get supplies from the back of the truck. Colette throws open the door beside her, sticks her head out, sniffs the air, and then gingerly steps forward as though she’s about to get into a pool of water. I hesitate only a moment before yelling, “Onward, ho!”