There were times, in the distant past, when the fleeting thought crossed John's mind: would he have turned out different had his mother survived having him? Had she been around for him to say, "I can't, my mum would kill me?"

He'll never know. But it concerns him that whatever is behind this ship is pulling girls still young enough to worry about that kind of thing here. He doesn't like it.

He lets none of that show on his face. "Pleasure, Helen. And yeah, bit creepy. But since we don't know how long we'll be here for each time, the room's good to have. D'you want help figuring out which one's yours?"