He shifted his weight, looking uncomfortable. “I’m not the only one with ‘concerns.’ You may want to call a meeting, once you’re settled in. I’m not sure who would come, but it would give you a better idea of what you’re looking at.”
“A meeting of involved residents.” Holly nodded. “That’s a good idea.”
Sam shrugged again. He looked tired. Resigned. “Let Alyce know when you’re ready. We’ll see who we can rustle up.”
Sam shook his head and gestured toward the crates. “And send me a message when these crates are empty and I’ll collect them. I can store them in the terminal, unless you want to keep them here. Your choice.” He gave Bean one last pet, then moved toward the door.
That was all she was going to get out of him today. “Thank you, Sam.”
“Yup. Bye, Bean.” The dog wagged his tail and Sam left, the empty flatbed floating behind him.
Holly just stood there, surrounded by her luggage, processing what Sam had told her. Charles wouldn’t approve the solar power cell repairs. Was helookingfor a disaster?
Luv squeaked her way back inside, metal hands holding a bowl and a foil-wrapped rectangle. “I’ve got your food.”
“Thank you,” she said absently, still thinking about the incomprehensible danger in running a containment field at seventy percent power.
“And I see Sam was here.” Luv looked around at the cramped interior. “Eat something, then we’ll work on these crates. I can’t abide a mess.”
Holly ate hot porridge at the table. It wasn’t good, but Luv had added some berries, which sweetened it up a bit, added just a little tartness, and popped in her mouth as if they were freshly picked. Based on the taste of the porridge, this NuProd machine was designed to produce emergency rations. They were installed on refugee ships and in emergency shelters,nota hotel. This was pretty appalling. No wonder no one wanted to stay here. She made a mental note to look into improving the cuisine.
With her belly filled and the headache receding, Holly stood in the middle of the room, surrounded by her luggage crates. Luv rolled toward the first one and scanned the small inventory screen. “This one is filled with plants.”
“I know.” Holly brushed her thumb to the clasp and it unsealed with a hiss. “Are you going to tell me how foolish it was to bring a dozen houseplants with me across the galaxy?”
“No,” Luv replied, lifting the lid and peering inside at the carefully arranged stasis bags. “But what is the purpose of all this indoor greenery?”
“It doesn’t have a purpose, exactly. They’re just houseplants. They make me happy.” Holly lifted the first one out with care and removed it from its preservation wrapping. Rich, green leaves burst out as if relieved to be free of their bindings. “This one’s asakrillafern from the tropics of Dendross Alpha,” she explained. “When it blooms, it has bright blue-green flowers. It lets you know when it needs to be watered by waving its tendrils.”
“Charles did not keep plants,” Luv observed.
“I’m not Charles,” Holly said.
“No,” Luv agreed. “You are not.”
It was the closest thing to a compliment the robot had offered. Holly decided to take it.
She had packed each pot with care for the journey, and she opened them now, checking the soil and leaves. All had survivedthe trip, though a few looked droopy and sullen. She placed them where each would get the appropriate light for their needs, and gave each one a drink of water. The act of tending them settled something in her. This, at least, was something she knew how to do.
Six
Luv, Holly quickly learned, was a very nosy robot. A more appropriate name for her model would have been Busyboti, for all the questions she asked and strong opinions she offered. However, despite the bot’s general hostility toward most things, she proved unexpectedly useful. The robot unpacked Holly’s things, sorting and organizing what went into which room. Holly suspected she was just very curious to see what Holly had thought important enough to haul halfway across the galaxy.
“Not there,” Luv said, as Holly moved a lamp to a side table. “The light will hit that at the wrong angle in the afternoon and blind you.”
Holly moved the lamp to a different spot. “Better?”
“Marginally.”
“I’m so glad you approve,” Holly murmured, and that was how the rest of the afternoon unfolded.
Luv delivered Holly’s clothes to the bedroom where Holly arranged them in the dresser and closet. Luv stacked Holly’s book collection on the shelf in order of color, and Holly rearranged them by author’s last name. D-pads went on the dining table, because she didn’t have a desk yet. Maybe she’dturn one of the extra rooms Charles had blocked off into an office, at some point.
When she finished, the unit looked different. The walls were still that miserable color and the furniture was still old and worn. But it looked like a person lived there, now. Bean remained on the couch through all of this, tracking her and Luv’s movements with general disinterest as he waited for suppertime.
With her belongings unpacked and the windows uncovered, she turned to the rooms Alyce had mentioned. Two doors off the living room, both sealed with the same plastoid material as from the windows. The first one opened into a small bedroom, and Holly stopped in the doorway.
It was a child’s room. The bed was narrow, tucked against the wall, and covered in a purple quilt patterned with stars and moons. A shelf above it held a row of small figurines, animals and creatures Holly didn’t recognize, arranged with the careful precision of a child who had placed each one exactly where it belonged. A wooden box sat on the shelf beside them, painted with tiny flowers. The walls were a soft blue that had aged to something closer to gray, and there were marks on the doorframe. Height marks, scratched into the paint with dates beside them in a child’s careful hand.
