"The guy who made the gates is a robot?" Jin asked.

"Yeah, that's what we said," Angharad said.

Jin stared at her, blinking, eyes unfocused. "He's a robot."

"I mean, Antley Grapfoy didn't indicate a desire to use male pronouns," Angharad said.

Jin stood up and scrubbed at his face. He walked in a small circle near the refrigerator, just once, before throwing his hands away from his face and saying, in his loudest, most annoying voice, "How can this person be a robot? There were all those ads."

"Jin, we've covered this already," Freya said.

"We could talk about what we've learned about the sabotage instead," Leonard suggested.

"There's nothing new to say about the sabotage. We know who most of the dozens of people responsible are and why they claim they did it but we don't know who organised it in the first place or why, or how," Jin said.

Leonard leaned forward over the table. "There was a show I used to watch about androids where..."

"And knowing about the sabotage doesn't get us anywhere. What does it tell us? Nothing! We still don't know who runs Zapville. We still don't know where it is or how to get everyone home. This is useless!" Jin said.

Freya slumped further onto the dining table. "Jin, you need to calm down."

Jin threw open the door to the living room and walked out of the kitchen.

Angharad leaned back in her chair to spy on the proceedings in the living room, even beyond Jin's graceless slump into an armchair. Freya's parents were still sitting on their couch in front of the TV, giving no visible reaction to Jin's appearance in the room. Not that Angharad could really tell – she could only see them from the back and slightly to the side, so any clues from facial expressions were lost to her. They sat up equally straight and made no sound.

Freya's father was still wearing his cheap polyester business suit; her mother wore a beige cardigan over a nice midi dress. The people in the main image on the TV seemed to be young celebrities of some sort, though Angharad had no real knowledge of Northern Constructed Territory pop culture. The young celebrities excitedly exclaimed over grilled fish, accompanied by various wacky sound effects and a series of over-exaggerated reaction images from their studio audience.

"Is your friend always that angry?" Leonard asked.

Angharad turned her attention back to the kitchen, first to the amusement on Freya's face and then to her own father's raised eyebrows.

"Oh, yeah, all the time. Jin is, like, super grumpy. He's always arguing with someone," Angharad said.

"You should see him with my parents," Freya said. "Watching him try not to start an argument is the funniest thing you will ever see."

"He seems more than just grumpy," Leonard said.

"I mean, he blows up sometimes? It's no big deal. Did I tell you the story of how he and Tabitha nearly ruined my birthday?" Angharad asked.

"Who is Tabitha?" Leonard asked.

How could she explain Tabitha? Angharad looked at Freya, at the way the look in her eyes got gentle and warm.

"Tabitha's a friend who couldn't come home with us," Freya said. Simple as that.

*

They thanked Freya's parents for being polite enough to invite them for dinner after that, and then strolled past well-lit, brightly coloured apartment buildings to the tram stop three blocks away. The tram, when it arrived, was a double-decker like she'd seen in pictures of Hong Kong, and painted with a vibrant pattern. Angharad was quiet, taking it all in.

"Your friends seemed nice," Leonard said.

She couldn't tell if he was lying or not.

"Yeah," Angharad said, and looked at the world passing through the tram window, the well-manicured planned communities, the slickly designed pastel shopping malls, the lights so bright they blotted out the stars in the sky.

*

The next morning her father disappeared early to chase those business opportunities he'd joked about earlier, so Angharad went down to meet Jin in the hotel lobby at ten.

The hotel receptionist glared at Jin as he stood in the lobby in his printed shirt and black jeans, legs spread wide and hands clasped behind his back. Not that he seemed to notice the glare. Somehow he seemed like more of a military guy now he was out than he had when he was in.

"Were you the only one free to show me around?" Angharad asked.

"Nobody else wanted to hang out with you," Jin said.

Angharad punched his arm. He didn't budge, even a little, but his smirk got wider.

"But seriously, where is Freya? Is she working even on a Saturday?" Angharad asked.

"She told me the defence force brought in an outside consultant to restructure everything, so everyone's job titles are changing and everyone has to be re-trained before they can go back to doing... whatever it is people are supposed to do in peace time." He shrugged and rolled his eyes.

He brightened up when they were outside and he could point out every landmark, every place that held a memory for him. He glowed with pride whenever she told him she liked one of the weird new works of public art he pointed out, even if she usually didn't get what they were about.

Everything was neat and tidy in public, but in some ways it was a city like any other. They passed cafes and shoe stores, people in office attire and groups of people taking wedding photos against ornate public buildings.

Eventually, Jin pulled her into the museum.

"I mean, I'm not really into art and stuff," she said.

"But this place is awesome. There are pop culture theme sections at the back. I think your dad would love it, so take notes for when you tell him about it. I want him to know how amazing West Garbage Scow is, too."

"Okay, okay."

The whole building had that atmosphere you only find in galleries and museums, the low rumbling sound of a bunch of people trying really hard to talk quietly all at once. Jin led her past a bunch of paintings that looked fine, even if Angharad didn't get what they were trying to say, and right into the depths of a meandering, maze-like exhibition about low budget TV shows local to the country.

There were video screens with people talking, that were probably only helpful if you'd asked for headphones at the reception desk, and screen captures and posters in vibrant colours. Jin dragged her to one area in particular, right up to a picture of a man in front of a building that she didn't have the context to understand.

"This is great," he said. "I watched it last week. It's a 15 episode drama that's like The Odyssey, except it's about a guy trying to come home from our war. It's really funny."

"Oh, really? Is that what you feel like, Odysseus home after a long, arduous quest?" she asked.

"Isn't that what you feel like?"

"I feel like I'm still wandering. I mean, home is where the people are, you know. It's not a place for me. Anyway, I have to put up with James." Angharad looked at Jin, at the way his eyes got dark, and decided the floor was a better thing to look at instead. "Not that, uh..."

"I looked him up. You never told me he was your cousin," Jin said.

Angharad breathed in and out, big shaky breaths. She hadn't planned for this, had planned, instead, to forever ignore it.

"I mean, of course I didn't," she said.

"I can't believe you..."

"Can we not talk about it?"

"It doesn't make any sense. That's not who you are. He's your cousin. Why would you let..."

"I don't want to talk about it, okay. I hate it. I hate him. I want to forget every part of it." Her voice was louder than she wanted it to be.

She wanted to stuff all her feelings in a small, quiet place, and jettison that past relationship into the land of forgetfulness. She wanted to stop feeling like she was going to throw up whenever she realised that there were people who knew this about her, what she'd given in to.

"Okay. Whatever. Then what's it like putting up with that cousin you never did anything weird with?"

"It's just... It's super annoying. He's just this creepy, condescending old guy who stomps around the office talking about what he plans to do with the company and arguing with my dad. And, like, okay, I get that my father is kind of not actually a good businessman but James is actually worse. He's the kind of business grad who thinks the way to increased profits is to gut a company, lower costs by removing innovation and staff and anything that could actually help profits long term. I can't wait until I've learned enough that I can wrestle in there and knock him out of power." She looked up at the exhibit, full of TV stills surrounded by note cards she couldn't read. "And he just, like, brags to people about all the affairs he has, knowing that he has his faithful Penelope by his side to put up with it. I mean, her name is not actually Penelope, that was just a reference to..."

"The Odyssey, I got it," Jin said, voice light. "But James isn't Odysseus, you're Odysseus, the conquering misfortune hero returning home from a series of traps and trials. Emphasis on the traps. And James is like The Suitors, the arrogant pig trying to take your home and money. There is no Penelope."

Angharad looked at Jin again. His grin was playful, his body language soft. Maybe she didn't have to feel ashamed that he knew what he knew about her. Maybe it would all be okay after all.

"I feel a little bit more like one of those tragic heroes that wanders in the dark, too clueless to find the home they seek. I mean, also, The Odyssey is not really my favourite."

"Then what is your favourite Greek myth?" he asked.

"Uh, I guess I like the stuff with Persephone because it's about making the most of a bad situation."

"That's the most depressing thing I've ever heard you say."

"What? I can like dark stuff."

Jin shrugged. "Journey to the West is better than all the Greek myths, anyway. There's a journey. They go west. The Monkey King steals a bunch of peaches. It's great."