"...what is the form of the rule that resolved everyone's worries?"

He reads over shoulder to figure out what she means. Then he looks it up. "If children born here are eligible for citizenship elsewhere then they're citizens there - since the idea was helping people who've nowhere to go. And you can only buy a credit if you've been living here for a year unless you get a waiver, so the kids the rules apply to are all children of parents who have been living here for a year."

"How do you get waivers?"

"Apply to the relevant agency. There's a web form."

"Huh, okay."

The hem of her shirt (she accepted local clothes after learning it was customary here to change one's outfit on a routine basis) is disturbed like Penumbra's tugging on it. "I think I'm done for the day," Maurabel says.

"Okay. Should someone bring dinner?"

"Uh, yes please."

"Have a good evening." And he leaves.

"Their hair comes in red," says Penumbra.

"- they never mentioned -"

"The people with the red hair all live together and they - if we'd gone there first they would still look rich, they have electricity and things, but they aren't, not for here -"

"What exactly happened?"

"I was just flying around and I found a place with much shorter buildings, and then I saw they had red hair, I landed - I couldn't understand much of what they were saying, I haven't learned much Anitami. They looked really - busy and tired - I don't think more busy and tired than human farmers or something but for here -"

"Uh-huh."

"I didn't go visible. I might go again tomorrow."

"We'll have to replace the carpet," someone murmurs. "You should've explained it to them."

     "She seemed to take the bit about pollution okay..."

"Maybe, yeah," says Maurabel, "see what there is to see -"

"What?"

"I have a guess, that's all, I'm going to check." She has learned the basics of the internet and she knows her color words.

There's a red caste. Reds are unclean. They do unclean work. They live in the red districts. Anitam is in compliance with trade agreements which include terms about being very sure your reds haven't touched anything anyone else might touch.

"Well?" asks Penumbra.

"I was right. They sort of - implied it, but..."

"...yeah."

"Do you want to leave -"

Penumbra hesitates.

"Dinner!" someone says at the door.

Maurabel answers the door.

"Hi! Eight different countries wanted their cuisine served, I hope it's not too much for the two of you.  - should we talk."

"We can probably do eight countries of food between the two of us."

"Then here you go. Is everything okay?"

"Got a lot to think about."

"Oh?"

"We don't have the pollution thing, probably shouldn't bring any Amentans back to my world."

"Some people cope with it okay. It's definitely something we would have to warn them about, given that you don't have running water. Shame to send a infrastructure and medical team who is debilitated by it."

"Yeah, that sort of thing."