People signed on for different term lengths. This meant you never could be sure whether someone was leaving earlier or later than you. Especially if you arrived around the same time. Keith had arrived six months after Marianna. When she shared eagerly that she'd be here for five years, he had given nothing but a polite but standoffish grunt, she didn't pry.

She hoped he might mention it some time later to her. Or maybe she might hear him having a conversation with somebody else. He'd certainly be asked by another person how long his term was. Whenever the conversation came up, he never offered his details. Thus nobody around knew when Keith would be going home.

This bugged Marianna. It felt like he could be leaving any week now. The 

waiting

was burdensome. Had she been braver. Cared less of what he thought of her. Then she'd ask him directly. But she didn't want to be rude. Didn't want to be disliked.

Her 

ego

screamed. Why didn't he care about when she was leaving. Why wouldn't he say when he was. If she were returning to earth before him, then wouldn't he want to let her know how far behind he'd be? The two lived relatively close down there. It was just an hour drive or so. Maybe they could meet up.

Friends in 

Spacecity

often didn't stay 

friends

 down there. Even though they'd promise to keep in touch. Once you had all the optionality of all the things earth had to offer, suddenly your old friends from the space station seemed boring. This is what people heard. Marianna didn't know if this was a fact. Soon she would see.