Book Four: Chapter Two. Ghosts ata Funeral

They crashed their own funeral.

The observation deck was packed. The soft glow of bioluminescent algae lined the floor, flickering like organic candles along the metal seams. A series of floating holo-images spun slowly in the air—Tom with that ridiculous mop of hair, Jo Du mid-eye-roll in a science lab, Finn staring down a malfunctioning Jim like she was about to scrap it for parts.

Polly stood at the front, composed but tired. Her voice was steady, but only just.

“They were the best of us,” she said. “Tom was brave. Finn was ever present. Jo Du... well, Jo Du once hacked the entire stations oxygen monitors to win a bet, so maybe not wise, but relentless.”

There were a few quiet chuckles. Even in grief, people remembered.

Amy L and Becky stood shoulder to shoulder near the middle row, heads bowed. Amy L’s lips were moving—maybe a prayer, maybe just counting. Becky’s jaw was locked, eyes fixed on the holo of Finn.

At the back, Huck swayed on his feet. Someone had gotten him cleaned up for the occasion—hair slicked back, coat pressed. But his eyes drifted like he wasn’t fully in the room. Like something else had a hold of him. His fingers twitched in time with the station’s hum.

And then the doors hissed open.

Jo Du stepped in first, blinking at the crowd like he’d accidentally walked into the wrong meeting.

Then Finn. Covered in red dust, arms folded like she dared anyone to try hugging her.

And finally Tom, grinning like he’d just pulled off the prank of the century.

Heads turned. Gasps rippled through the room. Someone dropped a glow clutch.

Polly’s mouth opened—but no sound came out.

Tom spread his arms wide. “Not saying you’re wrong, Aunt P. Just maybe wait till we’re actually dead before the eulogy.”

A pause.

Finn muttered, “Told you they’d throw us a funeral.”

“You owe me five creds,” Tom said, elbowing her.

“You’re both dead,” Jo Du added, deadpan. “Just wait till our parents are done with us.”

Polly finally spoke, voice quiet and sharp. “Tom Sawyer. You better have a reason.”

Tom looked sheepish. “Reason-ish?”

Behind them, Amy L bolted toward Finn, launching into a tackle-hug. “You absolute morons.”

Finn stumbled but didn’t resist. “You’re crushing my ribs.”

Becky stood frozen, staring at Tom like he might disappear again. “How?”

Tom smirked. “Bit of this, bit of that. Ice raft. Rogue Jim. Near-death experience. You know, Tuesday stuff.”

Becky didn’t laugh. But she didn’t walk away either.

Jo Du scanned the crowd and frowned. “Guess my parents didn’t show.”

Tom glanced at him. “Buddhists, yeah?”

Jo Du nodded. “Not big on ceremony. Just incense and long silences.”

Huck moved slowly toward them, his posture loose, drifting. He looked at Finn like he wasn’t sure she was really there. Like she might be another glitch in the static he’d lived in for years.

“They said you were gone,” he said softly. “Lost under the ice.”

Finn’s expression softened. “I made it back, Pop.”

Huck reached out, hesitated, then let his hand fall. “Thought it was just more voices in my head,” he muttered. “But maybe the voices were right this time.”

Finn glanced sideways at Tom, then back at Huck. “You’re doing okay?”

Huck smiled faintly. “Today, maybe. The Condition’s funny like that. Some days I’m just a shell. Today I feel solid.”

Polly stepped forward, finally breaking her paralysis. She reached for Tom, stopped herself, then pulled him into a sudden, breath-stealing hug.

“You scared the hell out of me,” she said.

Tom exhaled into her shoulder. “Good to see you too, Aunt P.”

And just like that, the mood in the room shifted. From grief to disbelief. From disbelief to something like joy.

Tom looked out at the Martian surface through the glass. The red planet hung silent beneath the stars, vast and waiting.

“We’re not done yet,” he said, mostly to himself.

But Finn heard. And Becky did too.

And out there, somewhere beneath the dust, the story was still moving.