And to critically reconsider her life choices.What would have happened if I’d worn different shoes to work that day?
To say she was nervous was an understatement. Holly knew nothing about running a deep space outpost. Nothing at all. Mr. Binn had provided her with all his files on Moone’s Landing. Maybe the name Oliver Moone had given his outpost was a little corny, but she was about to be the third Moone to run it, and that felt strange to her.
The other intimidating part of it was that galactic law had changed since Oliver Moone purchased Lars-Vector-2. Back then, moons and entire planets could be bought and sold. But no longer. Some ninety years ago, galactic law changed to forbid the purchase of planetary bodies. The law grandfathered in those that were already owned, and allowed them to be transferred. This put Holly in a very rare, elite category of person. It wasn’t one she was entirely comfortable with. It certainly wasn’t earned, especially since there were thirty-six people who lived on this moon. The way she saw it, they deserved to have more rights to it than her.
Holly clutched the d-pad that Mr. Binn had given her and looked out the window of her small cabin. It was little more than a holding cell with a hard bed, a basic sanitation system, and a food replicator that should have been put offline eighty years ago. The closer they got to Moone’s Landing, the more her nerves rose to the surface. The residents had been alerted that she was coming.Theywere the ones Holly needed to impress more than anyone else. What if they hated her? What if?—
“Oy. Human.” One of the Penrian sisters hollered through the door and banged twice on it. “Hang on to something. We’re about to dock.”
She took that to mean,we aren’t sure that thruster will take us down easy.
Understood. Holly sat on the bed and waited.
The shuttle had a bumpy landing, just as she expected. The sisters hollered back and forth to each other during the entire descent, which did not inspire confidence. Holly gripped the edge of the hard bed and watched as the surface of the small moon grew closer and closer through her tiny window. The outpost’s dome glinted in the light of the only nearby star, and for a moment, Holly forgot to be nervous. It was stunning, from here.
The ship lurched, shuddered, and finally settled with a groan that suggested the landing struts were not entirely happy about it. Holly exhaled as her body readjusted to natural gravity. She tucked the d-pad into her small travel bag and rose on unsteady legs. Taking a deep breath, she made her way past the cargo hold where the sisters were pulling open the heavy doors to access her luggage crates. Holly had emptied most of her apartment, aside from furniture. Three months was a long time, after all, to be without her favorite things.
She walked through the small main cabin and ducked to clear the open hatch.This is it.She descended the ramp and took her first steps on the space station sheowned. Holly immediately took in the structure. Studying the images and blueprints had been one thing. Seeing it in person was another. The landing pads (including the one she was on) jutted off the side of the station’s soaring control tower like mushrooms from the side of a tree. She craned her neck to look up at the saucer-shaped communications room at the very top. All standard for older stations like this.
The first troubling thing that caught her eye was the force field bubble that contained the atmosphere on the landing pad. It rippled and flickered in rainbow waves. Very pretty, but thosewere power fluctuations. That was concerning, to say the least. She made a mental note to check the grid as soon as she could.
The landing pad itself was clean, but cold—thanks to that wavering force field—and the corners were stacked with ship parts and scrap metal. Not uncommon for a rustic space outpost.
What was uncommon was how utterly deserted it was. There was…no one here. No one to direct her. Just the sisters hauling her luggage crates from the cargo hold and tossing them unceremoniously onto the landing pad floor.
Holly winced, thinking of her houseplants. She hoped the soil hadn’t shifted too badly. “Um, oh. Please be gentle. There are plants in some of those.”
One of the sisters snorted and said something in Penrian that made the other one grunt. Another crate went airborne.
The tower that the landing pad was attached to had an elevator, and the door of it opened. Instead of a person, like Holly expected, a spindly, waist-high bot emerged. It rolled up to the closest sister on misaligned wheels that clicked and squeaked with each rotation. It looked as though it should have been decommissioned decades ago. One of its exterior panels was missing, revealing a tangle of wires within.
“Greetings,” the bot said in a voice that crackled with static. “Do you require servicing for your vessel?”
The sisters exchanged a look and burst into laughter. One of them waved a dismissive hand and said something that made the other cackle harder. They climbed back into their shuttle without another word to Holly, and moments later, the ship lifted off with a sputter and a few wobbles. That thruster was definitely on its last legs.
Holly looked at the pile of luggage crates. They were too heavy for her to carry, and the bot didn’t appear capable of lifting anything heavier than a d-pad. She would have to leave them for now. With worry making it feel like she had a rock in herstomach, she walked past them toward the elevator and pressed the button for the ground level of the outpost.
The elevator doors opened with a groan, and Holly stepped out into the interior of Moone’s Landing for the first time. She stopped. Drew in a breath. The protective dome arched high above, breathtakingly beautiful. The crystal-plex panels curved overhead in sweeping arcs, supported by alloy struts that caught the light and glinted silver. It was everything the schematics had promised and more. The structure was sound, she could tell that much at a glance, though the panels were a bit cloudy and needed a good resurfacing to restore their clarity. Still. It was magnificent.
A smooth stone walkway stretched before her, leading toward a number of white, round-topped buildings. Beyond those, she could see tall trees, their branches reaching toward the dome like fingers grasping for sky. The sight of them made something in her chest loosen, just a little.
But there was still no one here.
Holly clutched her bag tighter and kept going. Her unease grew with each step. Thirty-six people lived here, according to Mr. Binn’s files. Where were they? Had they decided to hide from the new owner? Were they watching her from behind those windows, judging her already? She hadn’t expected a grand welcome party, but she also hadn’t expected to find herself in a ghost station.
Her nose wrinkled. The air smelled stale, with an unpleasant undertone of stagnation. There was oxygen, she could breathe well enough, but it wasn’t being circulated properly. She looked up and spotted four enormous turbines positioned high up on either side of the dome. Only two appeared to be working, and one turned sluggishly, as if exhausted from the effort.
As she moved into the town area, she noticed the plants. They lined the walkways in large ceramic pots, but they werestruggling. Leaves drooped. Stems sagged. Some had yellowed at the edges and a few were altogether dead. Holly frowned and wondered if the water pumps were working properly. Plants didn’t lie. If they were unhappy, something was wrong with their environment.
The path opened into a central square, and Holly paused to take it in. A fountain sat in the center, but it wasn’t operational. No water flowed from the tiered basins and mineral deposits crusted the stone. Around the square, storefronts lined the walkway, most of them vacant. Dark windows. Locked doors. Signs that had faded beyond reading.
Two shops appeared to be open. One was slightly larger than the others and marked with a sign that read, “The Emporium.” Warm light glowed from within. The other was tiny, with no marker other than an image of a mushroom painted on the window. Its lights were on as well.
Holly approached the largest building on the square, which she knew from her paperwork was to be her new home. A single sign hung above the entrance: Hotel.
According to Mr. Binn’s files, the hotel was the official residence of the Moone family and where her residential unit would be. Charles had lived here. Her great-grandfather Oliver before him. And now, Holly.
She could finally hear evidence of people. A few distant voices. The clatter of something being moved. But she didn’t see anyone until she pushed open the hotel door and stepped inside.
