The ship had been cloaked the same way they had approached Star Island Stop, except this time Nayli and Stupid had bedecked them in the fake personality of a cruise ship curious about Lym. At the moment, they sat queued in a long line waiting to dock. In honor of their chosen disguise, Nayli had fashioned Stupid into a man with a bright blue travel suit, combat boots, and an oversized slate: a caricature of a cruise-ship passenger. “Show me the planet,” she commanded. Lym filled the view screen in front of her. She had seen pictures of it—everyone in the Glittering had been educated on history at some point or another. In reality, it looked brighter than she had expected, cleaner. It was impossible to see the robot infestation from way up here, and unlike Mammot, which she had been to twice, there was almost no sign of human alteration visible at this scale. Lym had clearly bespelled Marina as well. She whispered, “Isn’t it pretty?
