"Where are you going?"
"Out!"
Ten slammed the door of the apartment behind her, cutting off her mother's response. She had had a bad day, and Ten did not want to be around anyone - not until her temper had subsided. The problem with her family was that they were so nosy and interfering and ... and helpful! Ten knew that they loved her, and she loved them, but there were times she needed to get away from them: something that was almost impossible in the confines of the apartment that the Bailey family called home.
Outside, on the tenth-floor walkway, some of Ten's friends had gathered under the glare of an LED lamp. They waved at her and called out. "Ten! Come on over! Wanna 'face?"
Ten waved back. "Hey - yeah! But no! Parental units want me to run some errands. 'Face with you later." It was a lie, of course. Any other time Ten would have loved to spend time with friends, either here, in the VRcade or in the labyrinthine shopping levels. Tonight, however, she was in no mood for idle chatter and social grooming.
She loped towards the plaza, looking for a lift to the upper levels. Her long legs carried her slender form with an ease and purpose that the older generation didn't seem to have. There was a crowd of people waiting in the plaza, so Ten hung back until a lift arrived that was empty enough for her to wedge herself in a corner. She rode the lift up to a busy transfer lobby, then took another lift to an almost deserted corridor. There were no holograms or VRtags to relieve the smooth concrete of the walls; just safety notices and warning glyphs in starkly contrasting colours.
A uniformed technician stopped her. "What are you doing here?" The technician's tone was blunt but not impolite.
"I want to sign out my suit for an excursion," Ten replied.
The technician shrugged and produced a data pad from a holster. "ID?" Ten passed her hand over the pad, which lit up and displayed her public data file. The technician glanced down at the screen. "Ten Bailey. Says here you're still a minor. Have your guardians given permission for this?"
"Sure." Another lie. Ten was sure that even if the technician bothered to check, it would be a while before she had to face any consequences. That was a problem for Future-Ten.
"Alright. Check yourself out."
Ten hurried to her assigned storage locker and started to struggle into her suit. First on was the tight-fitting pressure weave; then the bulky protective outer garment, helmet and backpack. It took half an hour for Ten to dress and check the systems were charged. Finally, fully dressed in her pressure suit, Ten headed for the surface airlock.
"Ten Bailey, 21690708-TXB requesting clearance for EVA. Lock six."
The voice in her helmet responded. "Lock six. Clearance confirmed for EVA."
Ten cycled herself through the airlock and walked out onto the lunar surface.
