"Much more than we can afford to pay," interrupted Rara. "Alter, come with me. This boy is going to talk you out of a unit or two yet, if you keep on listening to him."
"See," said the boy, pointing to the shells. "I've put holes in them already. You can string them around your neck."
"If you want to get food and a place to sleep," said Alter, "you don't want money. You want friends. What's your name? And where are you from?"
The boy looked up from the handful of shells, surprised. "My name is Tel," he said after a moment. "I come from the mainland coast. And I'm a fisherman's son. I thought when I came here I could get a job in the aquariums. That's all you hear about on the coast."
Alter smiled. "First of all you're sort of young ..."
"But I'm a good fisherman."
"... and also, it's very different from fishing on a boat. I guess you'd say that there were a lot of jobs in the aquariums and the hydroponics gardens. But with all the immigrants, there are three people for every job."
The boy shrugged. "Well, I can try."
"That's right," said Alter. "Come on. Walk with us."
Rara huffed.