And the Council and Crew, he thought, say Crawlspacers are a myth.
He remembered an earlier fight with his father, when he’d made the mistake of mentioning the legendary group at the dinner table. His father had exploded, “There aren’t any Crawlspacers—they’re just a made-up group to add glamour to any Shipborn brat who feels like wrecking something. You young people don’t know how good you’ve got it. You should have been on Earth just before Launch or on the Station when it was attacked. Then you wouldn’t be complaining. You’d be glad to be on the Mayflower II, glad to be away from it all, honoured to be going to a new planet, the way we were honoured.”
“Some honour,” Art retorted. “The Shipborn don’t have any choice about any of it—where we’re going, how the ship is run. That’s left to
