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“Who?”
“His name is Martin Stremon,” I tell Ezra. “He’s the reason I left Mars.” The memories come back in droves, suddenly, and I have a fierce headache. Ezra seems to notice and moves his hand from my chest to my forehead. He begins to rub in small, gentle circles.
“Tell me,” Ezra says. “But go slowly. Be gentle on yourself, Dagger. There’s no rush for this information. Take your time, human. Take your time.”
His words shouldn’t calm me down, but they do. Ezra is so rough around the edges, so dark at times, but he’s weirdly gentle with me. He treats me like I’m delicate and it’s been a long time since anyone viewed me that way. I think the last person who thought I was fragile was my father.
Everyone else just pushes me around, trying to figure out how long it’ll be before I break.
“On Mars, I was a nanny. Do you know what that is?”
“A most highly respected position,” Ezra nods. “Caring for a family’s children.”
“It’s not very respected on Mars, just like it wasn’t very well respected on Earth. I suppose that despite the fact humans migrated to a new planet, we brought all of our cultural and societal norms with us.”
“Tell me what you mean. Explain this.”
“I mean that nannies aren’t respected. People think all we do is play with children, that nannying requires no skill.”
“These people are stupid.”
“I agree,” I smile slightly. “But it doesn’t change the fact that where I come from, nannies are viewed as worthless and ignorant and stupid.”
Ezra tenses and his eyes flash several different colors all at once.
“What’s wrong with your eyes?”
“Nothing.”
“The color changed.”
“I am angry that you have been treated with such disrespect. On Sapphira, nannies are viewed with the utmost respect, Dagger. The nannies are the ones raising the next generation of Sapphirans. They’re the ones ensuring the children learn all the necessary skills to survive. They’re vital to the continuation of society.”
“I wish Martians felt that way. Hell, I wish anyone on Mars at all felt that way.” Mars mostly consists of humans and Martians, but there are other species who dwell there, too, and most of them fall into the “nannies are worthless” camp.
“What happened to make you run? Was your position terminated?”
“Not exactly. The family I worked for, the Finkles, are a very prominent family on Mars.”
“What does this mean?”
“I mean they’re rich and wealthy and kind of a big deal.”
“They’re famous because they’re rich?”
“Basically.”
“Do they contribute to the economy of Mars?”
“Not really.”
“Do they conduct scientific research?”
“No.”
“So they’re just…rich?” Ezra shakes his head when I nod.
“I know it’s strange,” I say. “It’s one of those things we brought from Earth. You know, that celebrity culture?” He looks confused, so I try again. “On Earth, some people were famous for being pretty or handsome or in movies.”
