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aesthetic tastes, Doctor. That’s hardly going to hurt my feelings. But it does hurt me that you think I would gamble with the safety of my family.’
    As their discussion went on and became ever more heated, Solin motioned to Martha. He whispered that maybe there was time, before dessert, to pop out onto the veranda for some cool air.
    Outside there was a slight, ruffly breeze. Martha was amazed that there could be any such thing, under the crackling force-shield dome that covered Dreamhome. But the stars were out and the air was cool, and the whole place gave the illusion that it was a gorgeous, perfect summer night. Even though she knew that, just beyond those trees, a hellish midwinter reigned supreme.
    She sipped at her drink and smiled at Solin as he joined her, sitting on the concrete balcony.
    ‘My father gets quite upset if he feels our way of life is being criti-cised.’
    ‘The Doctor knows how to push people’s buttons,’ Martha admitted.
    ‘And Father is touchy, too, because all this is coming to an end: He has to face the busy universe again. He dreads it. He feels like the Dreamhome experiment has failed, in a way.’
    A slim robot slid out onto the veranda to stand by them. It held out a packet of cigarettes and, before Martha could protest that she never smoked, the machine had lit two and started smoking both.
    ‘They really do everything for you, don’t they?’
    Solin grinned. ‘It’s a filthy habit.’
    ‘I know that,’ said Martha. ‘But your poor mother. Does she never eat anything?’
    ‘Hardly,’ he said. ‘And only when she’s alone. Mother is very shy.’
    30

    ‘What about you, Solin?’ Martha asked. She watched him get up and wander away. He looked very pale and almost sickly in the stark moonlight. ‘Haven’t you been very lonely, growing up here with no one else your own age?’
    ‘No,’ he said. ‘But then, I don’t know what I’m missing, do I?’
    ‘I suppose not,’ she said. ‘But have you really never met any other people besides your parents?’
    ‘Oh, one or two. Father has had a handful of visitors over the years.
    No children, though. But. . . I’ve always had the staff to speak to, if I wanted other company. The Servo-furnishings are amazing. Just like real people, some of them, I imagine. They can be very lifelike. Even spontaneous.’
    ‘Hmm,’ Martha said, unconvinced. She eyed the robot next to them as it stubbed out both cigarettes and slid away, leaving a cloud of blue smoke. ‘I don’t think they’re very like real people, to be honest. It’s not like having brothers and sisters.’
    ‘Do you have siblings, Martha?’ Solin asked, sitting by her again.
    ‘Oh yes,’ she laughed. ‘A whole bunch of them. Well, a brother and a sister. Just about drove me mental. But I’d never be without them. I couldn’t imagine growing up without them.’
    There came a much chillier breeze shushing past them and Martha shivered.
    ‘Please, don’t feel sorry for me,’ Solin said. ‘I’ve had everything I ever wanted, up till now.’
    ‘All right,’ Martha said. ‘It’s a pact. I won’t feel sorry for you.’
    ‘I like you, Martha Jones,’ Solin said, rather abruptly. ‘I think I am not only attracted to you, but I find that you are good company, too.’
    ‘What?’ Martha said. ‘You can’t just come out with stuff like that.’
    He frowned. ‘Why not?’
    ‘Because it’s. . . well, it’s a bit embarrassing.’
    He looked earnestly at her and she knew she was hurting his feelings. ‘But I am attracted to you, Martha. I felt it straight away. And you are a nice person, too. I do like you. I want to tell you this.’
    ‘Oh god,’ Martha sighed. ‘Social skills not high on the Dreamhome priority list, eh?’
    31

    ‘On the contrary,’ Solin said, ‘My manners, I hope, are impeccable.
    I hope I was very polite when I told you that I wanted to kiss you, and so on.’
    ‘What?!’ Martha started laughing at this. She couldn’t stop