“Good morning.” Holly clasped her hands in front of her, always feeling slightly exposed in their presence. After all, the only thing preventing them from seeing into her soul was their desire not to do so without permission. “I have a request, and you won’t need to use your telepathic powers for this one. I already know exactly what I want.”
Orba’s small mouth curved slightly. “Tell us, then.”
“I need to order a turbine.” Holly pointed toward the outside. “One of the air circulation units is broken. Sam gave me the specifications.” She pulled up the information on her wrist comm and held it out. “Can you get this through your commerce system?”
The Vepins glided closer and studied the display. Their pale eyes moved over the specifications, then lifted to meet Holly’s gaze.
“We can acquire this item,” Orba said. “The cost would be fifty-two hundred credits.”
Holly’s heart sank slightly. She had forty-six hundred credits remaining in her account here. That left a gap of six hundred.
“That’s more than I have in credit at your store,” she admitted, immediately deciding that she could cover the difference with the fee she’d earn from Sol-Arc’s “freelance” job. It was bonus income, anyway, and worth it to get the air flowing properly again. “But I can supplement withnits. Would you accept a combination?”
Orba and Sula exchanged one of their long, silent looks. This was how they talked.
“We would,” Orba said. “However, after having just discussed it, we have decided that the turbine can be acquired for forty-six hundred credits.”
Holly blinked. “You’d be losingnits, then, wouldn’t you?” That was far more generous than she had expected. “Are you certain?”
“Yes,” Orba’s voice was so soft and light. “We remember when Oliver Moone first opened the dome.” Their pale eyes held Holly’s. “We would like to see it thrive again.”
Holly’s throat tightened. “Thank you,” she managed. “Both of you. I don’t know what to say.”
“Say nothing.” Orba inclined their head gracefully. “We will coordinate with Sam on the delivery and installation. The turbine should arrive within days.”
Holly transacted the credit, watching that sum reduce to zero. It stung a bit, but it meant fresh air for the entire outpost. It meant guests who didn’t wrinkle their noses when they arrived. It meant one more step toward making Moone’s Landing shine.
She left The Emporium with a lightness in her chest that she hadn’t felt in days.
The morning light was partly from the dome’s lighting system and partly from the angle of the nearby star, but all of it felt wonderful to Holly as she crossed the square and returned to the hotel. The gas giant was just visible on the horizon, its swirling bands of color providing a stunning backdrop to the white buildings and struggling gardens. She paused for a moment to take it in. This place really was beautiful, when you stopped to look.
An idea struck her. The hotel guests would be waking soon, and they would be hungry. Muffins were fine for breakfast, and she had enough left for that, but they might enjoy something more substantial for a midday meal. Arealmeal. Something savory and filling and warm.
Holly changed direction and headed for the gardens.
The potting station sat at the garden’s entrance, its weathered shelves holding an assortment of tools and supplies. Holly grabbed a woven basket from the pile and made her way down the rows of vegetables. As before, the beds were lovingly tended and watered, and the plants were healthy despite the dome’s other issues.
She pulled up a few ripe carrots first. Their orange roots slid easily from the dark soil. Then parsnips, onions, and a few ripe tomatoes. Of the non-Earth varieties, she gathered a handful ofburgiesfrom a low, leafy bush in the corner bed. The potato-like vegetable was native to the planet Gardra, but had become wildly popular on Earth, and some pepperywibblonsfrom the tropical moon of Feros-Ri.
Holly returned to the hotel lounge with her basket of fresh produce and a sense of purpose. She set her haul on the kitchen counter and pulled out her d-pad, scrolling through the recipes Rasker had sent her. One had caught her eye when she’d first read through the recipe options: pot pie.
Just the name sounded like comfort food, and it didn’t look too difficult to make.
Holly got to work.
The protein paste in the refrigeration unit was gray and unappetizing in its sealed container, but she read the instructions carefully. She measured out a portion, placed it in a mixing bowl, and added a few drops of the correct activator liquid. The transformation was almost magical. The gray goop darkened, developed texture, and began to smell like the ground meat it was meant to emulate. She crumbled it with a fork and set it aside.
The vegetables were next. She washed and chopped the carrots, parsnips, andburgiesinto neat cubes. The onions made her eyes water, but she pushed through, dicing them small. The tomatoes andwibblonsshe set aside for another use.
She heated oil in a large pan on the stovetop and added the vegetables, stirring them until they softened and released their fragrance. The protein crumbles went in next, browning nicely as she stirred. It smelled wonderful. Like a real kitchen. Likehome.
For the crust, she mixed oil with binding syrup and carbohydrate powder until it formed a workable dough. She pressed the dough into a baking dish, filled it with the savory mixture, and covered the top with another layer of dough, crimping the edges the way the recipe instructed.
Holly stepped back and admired her work. It looked like a proper pot pie. All it needed was heat.
She turned to the oven and pressed the activation panel.
Nothing happened.
