“Yes,” I said. Everybody knows that. It was built to carry Mudeaters out to settle the Colonies — I don’t call them that in Daddy’s presence, by the way; though it may seem surprising, he doesn’t like the word.

Daddy went on to explain. The Mudeaters — Colons, rather — were packed in at very close quarters. They weren’t clean people — try to convince a peasant to wash — and people packed in as close as they were are going to sweat and stink anyway. For that reason, mainly, the Ship was built with a very efficient cleaning and air-distribution system. The Ship is used now for a completely different purpose, so we no longer need that system.

Daddy said my suggestion wasn’t completely out of line.

“Why doesn’t the Council do something about it, then? I asked.

“Figure it out yourself, Mia,” Daddy said. He was always after me to try to figure things out myself before I looked them up or asked him for the answers.

I did figure it out. Simply, it would be just too much trouble for too little result to scrap a complicated existing system that worked well at no present cost in favor of another system whose only virtue was its simplicity.

I brushed at my shirt and most of the dirt went its own way.

“I took a shortcut home,” I said.

Daddy just nodded absently and didn’t say anything. He’s impossible to figure. I was once taken aside and pumped to find out how Daddy was going to vote on a Council Question. They weren’t very nice people, so instead of telling them politely that I didn’t have the least idea, I lied. I can’t guess what Daddy is thinking — he has to tell me what’s on his mind.

He set down the book he had been looking at and said, “Mia, I have some good news for you. We’re going to move into a new place.”

I gave a whoop and threw my arms around his dear neck.

This was news I had wanted to hear.