Oliver and Charlotte were cooking lunch at their home; most of the New Soil Crew were there, in Eugene's room, talking about Orange Yellow and her newborn pups (which were, among the adults, quite controversial).  Joshua was working with Jacob on constructing a new, smaller scale fish farm, atop Building 29; they estimated they could release half the remaining fish eggs into it in about 10 days.  Liam was in Building 3, talking with Lucas and a few of the surviving crewmembers about plans to add new domes to it, or perhaps construct an entirely separate new building for growing more crops.  Given how well the agrobots were working, he had to admit, they had the option of growing more than before.  Loki the cat patrolled Building 3 as they talked, occasionally rubbing up against the legs of the humans present (especially Liam, despite - or perhaps because of - the fact that he was not used to it and jumped a bit whenever it happened).

Noah and Lucas were at Elijah's, playing video games together.  Elijah had made them tell him everything about how they had discovered Helene's plans with the medprinter.

"Wow, you guys were monitoring all requests to any of the printers?  Talk about paranoid delusion," he said with a grin.  "You sound like a nutcase."  Noah and even Lucas could not help laughing.

Emma was in the next room, trying to make plans with her youngest, Lillian, for her upcoming (Martian) birthday party, but it was getting harder to concentrate as her pregnancy got further along.  Olivia had told her they would probably want to induce and go to kangaroo care soon.

Sarah was in her new home in Building 29; Dorothy and Ruth were both with her.  Olivia had asked Sarah to watch them for a few hours, so she could do some chores at home.  Sarah nodded, smiled, and gave her daughter a long hug.  She could guess, that the real reason Olivia needed the place to herself for a while, was that she was about to give herself permission to cry her eyes out about Harper, and wanted to be able to do it alone.  Liam, whose relationship to Alexander was similar to that between Olivia and Harper, was the sort to want to work through his grief.  Olivia, on the other hand, needed to be alone for a space and time to cry, but in private.

Dorothy was laying down on the sofa, writing in her paper journal.  Sarah was seated at the table, looking over the text for Emma's upcoming Presentation.  She was, at her daughter's request, going to take Olivia's normal place.  She was a little nervous about it.

"I think Emma would want you to do it," said Sarah, "you're the one who normally does it."

"Emma is the one who suggested we have you be the Speaker instead," said Olivia, "and I think it's a good idea.  It will help the Earthlings think of themselves as taking part in the ritual, not just being spectators, if they see one of their own leading it.  Plus, I've never gotten to see one, from the outside, I've always either been the Mother or the Speaker.  I'm curious what it's like to be in the Circle."

"I won't know what to say," said Sarah nervously.

"We've worked that out," said Olivia, "it's pretty standard now.  You won't have to figure out what to say.  You just have to say it.  I think Emma would really appreciate it."

Once put like that, it was impossible for Sarah to refuse for fear of disappointing Emma, but she was still in fear of saying the wrong thing.  Kangaroo care normally lasted a couple months, but nonetheless she had already started reading the text on her tablet, again and again, trying to memorize it (she intended to have her tablet with her at the time, but still).

"It's not important that you do it perfectly," said Olivia, "it's just important that you try, to show that you care, and take it seriously.  You don't need to be perfect, you just need to show that you care and are trying."  Like being a parent, thought Sarah as she remembered the conversation now.  

Still, Sarah was nervous; it seemed like the Presentation was kind of a big deal.  Maybe that was what ritual was really for: a way to create drama, without having to know what to say.  Also, without having to have a fight.  She wondered how many of the arguments she and Jacob had, when they were younger, were actually out of boredom more than anything else.  Ritual seemed like a better way to inject some drama into your life; you didn't end up sleeping in a lonely bed for days afterwards.

She wondered how her daughter was doing, sitting alone in her apartment crying, and had to try hard to restrain herself from running there now, to give her another hug.  That's what Sarah would have wanted, if she were in the same situation.  But, as she had learned over the years, your child is never just like you, at least not in everything.  Olivia would want a hug later, but right now she wanted to be alone.

Ruth, who had been playing with her doll, got up and walked over to see what Sarah was doing.  Uh oh.  Sarah was torn between two duties, one to her friend Emma and one to be a grandmother.  As always, grandmother duties took priority.

"What are you doing?" asked Ruth.

"I'm practicing for the Presentation," said Sarah.

"Can I help?" asked Ruth.

Sarah was befuddled for a few moments.  She remembered when Olivia was this young, and wanted to help with everything.  She had learned that, however much it might seem easier to say 'no, you just play', it was actually easier to find some way for the child to help, because otherwise they will keep trying to find reasons to interrupt.  She tried to think of a way for Ruth to help.

"I'll be the mama, and my dolly will be the baby, and you say it," said Ruth.

Oh, of course.  Maybe that would even actually be helpful, it made it more like the real thing.  Sarah tried to sit up straight, and not laugh even though the very, very serious look on little Ruth's face made her want to.

"We are here to invite Emma and Elijah to present to us their new baby, Melissa," said Sarah.

"Emily," corrected Ruth.  Sarah paused, and looked up from her tablet.  Ruth held up her doll, as if she was quite obviously, if you looked at her, an Emily, not a Melissa.

"Emily," said Sarah.  She started to wonder, was it ok, to have Ruth standing in as the mother?  She was so young.  But then, why have dolls, if you can't pretend to be their caregiver?  Anyway, Ruth looked expectant for Sarah to continue, so Sarah continued.

"Emma, we want you to know that we know, that being a mother is hard, and we appreciate that you are doing it."

Sarah wondered how exactly these words had come about.  Did Olivia come up with them, or Emma?  Or someone else?  Most likely a mix of all of that.  No matter, by now they were well worked out, and Sarah was relieved to not have to figure out what to say on her own.

"We also want you to know, that we are here to help, when you want us to, if you will let us."

"I would like your help, and I will let you," said Ruth.  Sarah was startled, that Ruth already knew the part she was supposed to say.  She could not have seen very many Presentations, she was too young, so how did she know that?  Perhaps she still remembered from when Sophia and William presented Nathaniel.  Sarah suppressed the urge to switch places with Ruth, who apparently could remember what to say better than she could.  She tried to remember the next part on her own, without looking at the tablet.  She looked down at Ruth's solemn little face.

Did it matter that the mother told the other people she would let them help?  It had never occurred to Sarah, when she was a young mother, that other people might not know that.  She felt so obviously in over her head sometimes, that she thought it was obvious she would like some help.  But maybe not; maybe sometimes people wanted to help, but didn't think they had her permission to help.

She wondered what it would be like, to see a Presentation if you didn't have any kids, and didn't expect to.  Sarah had gotten pregnant more or less by accident, although to be honest once she realized that if she waited until she got back to Earth she might not have the chance to, she had stopped being careful with birth control.  Maybe it wasn't by accident.  Regardless, she had never known what it was like to see others raising children, and not have one of your own, and not ever expect to in the future.  She had only known what it was like to have one, and be surrounded by a bunch of people who looked at you like you were irresponsible.

Sarah had long since noticed that the wealthy never seemed to get that kind of reaction.  They were showered with praise, mother and child alike.  But if you were working hard for a living, you were expected to remain a worker drone, like bees who never lay eggs themselves, but just toil to provide honey for the queen and her brood.

Hold on, Sarah, get a grip on yourself.  Ruth is waiting.

"We want you to know that we will accept...Emily, as one of us [my goodness help me remember not to say 'Emily' instead of Melissa when I do the real thing, thought Sarah], teaching her, feeding her, and taking care of her whenever you cannot.  We want you to know that we are happy she is here, she tells us by her existence that there is a future, that our community will continue on even after we are gone.  She tells us to think about the long term, about the consequences of our actions, because long after we are gone she may have to deal with them.  She is one of us, now, and we are happy she is here, and we want you to know that you are not alone in doing this, because we will help."

Sarah paused, because now she was supposed to say something to the father, who would be right next to the mother.  Was Ruth the father too?

"Hold on," said Dorothy, and she got up from the sofa and stood next to her younger sister.  "I'll be Elijah."

Sarah looked at "Elijah", her granddaughter, standing in the traditional spot just behind and to the side of the mother, with one arm around her shoulders.  Ruth was a little short for this to work, Elijah did not tower over Emma like Dorothy did over Ruth, but it was close enough.

"Elijah, thank you for helping Emma raise this child.  Let us know when we can help, and how."

"I will," said Dorothy.

Sarah could not help thinking about Jacob, who had been gone for long stretches of time on trips to Earth and back while Olivia was young.  She had often wondered what it would be like to have the father there more or less continuously, but then there were many mothers who had to raise children with the father absent more or less continuously, so it could have been worse.

Now Sarah was supposed to say something to the circle of people around them, ideally all the people in the Colony, who were gathered around.  Without a word, Raymond had stepped up into position, off to the side a bit, as if he were part of a circle around "Emma" and "Elijah".

"Martians..."

Wait, 'Martians'?  Was that what they thought of themselves as?  Sarah didn't think that would exactly work for her, or the other survivors.  She would have to ask Olivia, or maybe Emma, what word to use there...

"Folks," suggested Dorothy, who could tell what Sarah was thinking.  Sarah looked up at Dorothy, and paused a bit longer.  'Folks'?  That sounded too...folksy, for such a solemn occasion.  Well, perhaps it wasn't supposed to be as solemn as she was thinking.

"Folks, this is...Emily.  She's one of us.  Will we help Emma and Elijah to raise her?"

"We will," said Raymond, altering his voice a bit to make it sound like he was a crowd of people speaking at once.  Apparently everyone here knew what to say but her.

"All right, then, let's say hello."

Then, exactly on cue, Ruth turned to Raymond and held her doll so that "Emily" could "see" both of them.  Sarah noticed that Ruth turned "Emily" so as to make it appear that she was looking from Raymond to her and back again, which was a thing that real babies do.  Upon seeing a strange face, they have an instinct to check the mother's facial expression, to see the mother's opinion on whether or not things are ok.  Ruth smiled, reassuringly, at her doll.

This 4-year old seems to know more about babies than I did when I had one, thought Sarah.  I suppose that's an advantage of everyone else helping to raise the child; you had a chance to practice on somebody else's.  Was that ok?  I guess it would have to be.

What if you didn't want other people helping you to raise your child?  What if you didn't like the way they would help?  Was it allowed, to just not Present your child this way?  Maybe the question had never come up.  On Mars, it was pretty obvious that they all had to work together to keep things going; there just weren't enough of them to get lost in the crowd.  No one in a small group could ever be as lonely as you could be in a large Earth city, if you wanted to.  Sarah had felt very lonely, many times, in very large cities.  She had never felt lonely on Mars (at least since she had returned,  anyway).

Ruth came around to her, and held up her doll, with a very serious expression on her face, and turned it to look first at Sarah, then at herself, then back again.  Sarah smiled (it was easy to smile at such a solemn little one), and she noticed that Raymond was also somewhat solemn, but Dorothy was suppressing (not entirely successfully) a smirk.

"Welcome, Emily," said Sarah, and she breathed a sigh of relief at having completed the ceremony successfully (this time, anyway).

Ruth turned and, with exaggerated steps, walked off into her room with her doll.  Raymond chuckled and went back to his tablet.  Dorothy sat down in the chair next to Sarah.

"Do you think the Indian Earthlings will understand the Presentation, when they see one?" asked Dorothy.

"I'm not sure," said Sarah.  "Maybe if we explain it to them."

Sarah sat still, as her three grandchildren all went back to their favorite positions.  Dorothy went back to the sofa, writing in her paper journal.  Raymond was working on his tablet again, headphones on, composing music.  Dorothy had told her about accidentally criticizing Raymond's music, and Sarah had to ask Raymond to play some for her, so that she could tell Raymond she was impressed.  It wasn't particularly Sarah's style, but it did not take that much grandmother-rose-tinted glasses to appreciate it; she praised it excessively.  Raymond appeared to see through her, but it seemed to work anyway; he had started working on it again.  Ruth was talking to "Emily" in the next room; she would probably be out in a few minutes to show her to Sarah in a new outfit.

With all three of the children occupied in their own pursuits, Sarah was left with her own thoughts again.  What would they do, with the newcomers?  The new newcomers.  She and Jacob were now the oldest people on Mars, and almost certainly the only grandparents.

There is something unique about the perspective of grandparents; you have been the child, you have been the parent dealing with the child, and now you can watch them both from a third-person perspective.  Hopefully, she could do something similar with the Martians, and the newcomers.