Toying with the idea of confronting him, she settled on a frosty glare. She’d studied demographics on the screen, how he’d likely voted. Both considered themselves patriotic inhabitants, residing in shadows of metallic structures.
“Democracy,” he said, removing his helmet. “I’m entitled to vote Neptune out of the Solar System. We’re independent. Should never have joined those interplanetary bureaucrats.”
“Who do you think funded these?” Her eyes flitted to the web of skyscrapers and bridges, glinting under artificial sunshine panels.
“We’re unshackled.” He gestured to the galaxy. “Our future is brighter.”
“Who knows?” She stared into the dark abyss.