She and Sam waited in the square as the inspectors moved through the station like shadows. Across the square. Into the hotel. Through the residential corridors. Into The Emporium, where Orba and Sula stood like statues, hand-in-hand. Into Harry’s shop, with Harry scowling beside his front door with crossed arms and saying nothing, which may have been a first. They took Moone Loop Road, which would take them alongthe garden paths, where the damage from the water dump was visible in flattened rows and exposed soil and the sad remains of crops that Mish and Alyce had not been able to save.
Above them, the dome’s partial lighting cast uneven pools of brightness. The areas Holly and Sam had managed to restore over the past three days were lit, unevenly, in a yellow-white that was close to normal but not quite. The areas they hadn’t reached were dark, relying on the reddish glow from outside. The temperature was better than it had been, but not ideal.
“At least we got some of the lights back,” Holly said quietly to Sam as they followed the inspectors along the forest path. “And the heat. That’s something.”
“Something,” Sam agreed. “Force field’s holding, too. For now. But if they run a deep diagnostic on the power grid, they’ll see the inconsistencies.”
“I know.”
“Water’s the worst of it.” Sam kept his voice low.
They had tried to drain the caverns through a tube run to the pond. It was working until something chewed through it in the brush between the cavern building and Oliver’s cabin. An animal, judging by the chew marks. Likely one of the quiet little creatures hiding out and living in the wooded sections of the station. Mineralized water had flooded the area before anyone could shut off the main.
“We just couldn’t catch a break,” Sam muttered.
Holly closed her eyes briefly. Another failure. Another thing she couldn’t control. “At least the caverns aren’t completely flooded anymore.”
“Waiting for the water to drain some, then turning off the water main stopped it from getting worse, but the damage is done. We’re looking at replacing most of the piping from the main conduit outward, and that’s a major job. Expensive.”
Holly caught a glimpse of the inspectors at the overlook bench Sam had installed. Drell sat on it, gazed out through the dome at the gas giant for approximately four seconds, then stood and moved on. Tol’rak made a note.
The whole inspection took four hours.
Four hours of two strangers and their cloud of buzzing bots cataloging every crack, every fault, every deferred repair that Holly and Sam had been fighting to address since the day she’d arrived. Four hours of standing in her own station and feeling it judged, systematically and without mercy.
When the inspectors finished, they returned to the square.
The bots converged from every corner of the outpost, streaming back to the two inspectors like iron filings drawn to magnets. They clustered again behind Tol’rak and Drell, and transmitted their findings in a series of chirps and pulses that lasted several minutes. Tol’rak and Drell stood in the center of the square, speaking in tones too low for Holly to hear.
Holly stood near the fountain and waited.
She was not alone.
The residents of Moone’s Landing had gathered in the square, even the ones who kept to themselves and whom Holly barely knew. They were drawn by the knowledge that what happened in the next few minutes would determine whether they had a home. They formed a loose semicircle behind Holly. She could feel them there, and the weight of their presence was both a comfort and a reproach.
Alyce stood to her left, arms folded, her expression set in the stillness she wore when she was bracing for impact. Her braids were pulled back tight and her gold eyes didn’t blink. Sam stood on Holly’s right, arms at his sides, stiff-backed and silent. He had not spoken since the inspectors began their deliberation.
Harry was behind her, for once without a teacup or a cupcake or a joke. His white hair was uncombed and his face was drawn,and he kept glancing toward his shop as if willing the fungi inside to survive whatever came next. Mish stood beside him, her bun listing to one side, her hands clasped in front of her. Her fourteen children were not present. She had left them at home, perhaps sensing that this was not a moment for them to witness. Orba and Sula had emerged from The Emporium and stood at the edge of the group, their opalescent skin catching the uneven light. Their expressions were serene in a way that Holly envied. They looked as if they possessed information no one else had, but then, they always looked like that. Tyer leaned against a lamppost at the fringe, his angular face unreadable, and Cody stood nearby, arms crossed. For once, a frown creased his brow, as if he was finally grasping the gravity of what was happening here. Even Luv was here, positioned just behind Holly’s shoulder, her optical sensors a steady blue.
Rasker stood at the back of the crowd. Apart, as he always stood at gatherings. Holly had glanced at him once when the group assembled. He was frowning, his eyes narrowed, his d-pad tucked under his arm, and the expression on his face was one she couldn’t interpret. She had been unable to interpret him for days. Since the festival, since the night they’d spent together, the vibe had shifted. She didn’t know if it was the crisis pulling them apart or something else entirely.
Doubts had crept in during the sleepless nights and the endless hours in the control tower. Small, poisonous doubts that she hated herself for entertaining but couldn’t silence. He was a consultant. He had been sent here to acquire this station. And now the station was failing, spectacularly, in exactly the way that would make a sale inevitable. He had been disappearing. He had been on his d-pad constantly.
She didn’t believe he had anything to do with Moone’s Landing’s failures. But she worried that he was sensing the inevitable and had reverted to the businessman. Or worse, thathe’dalwaysbeen the businessman, and had just been having some fun with her while waiting out the station’s inescapable decline.
That uncertainty was another wound on top of all the others, and it contributed to her avoiding him for the past three days. Also, there simply hadn’t been time for anything that wasn’t directly related to keeping the station from collapsing. But the avoidance had created a distance that felt deliberate, even if it wasn’t, and when he had tried to offer comfort, a hand on her arm, a quiet word, she had pulled away. Not because she didn’t want it. Because she was afraid of what it meant if she accepted it from a man whom she wasn’t sure she could trust.
Holly swallowed and turned her attention back to the inspectors.
Forty-Two
She wore a Sol-Arc work suit. The light beige, two-piece suit she had brought along but not worn since her mother had called it awful. She had put it on that morning because she wanted to look like a serious station owner, someone who commanded respect, someone the inspectors would take seriously. But the suit didn’t fit like it used to. She had gained softness from baking and eating real food, and strength from physical work and gardening. The suit pulled at the hips and strained across the shoulders and pinched at the collar, and every point of discomfort was a reminder that she was no longer the woman she had been when she’d last worn it.
It had felt good to be happy in her skin. To wear flowing tunics and vibrant colors and jewelry for no purpose other than she liked it. To look in the mirror and see herself, not a Sol-Arc employee, not a level three engineer in a professional suit, but Holly. Just Holly. That woman felt very far away right now.
Inspector Tol’rak straightened to his full height. Inspector Drell tucked his d-pad under his arm. They turned to face Holly and the gathered residents, and their expressions revealed nothing.
“Ms. Greene-Moone,” Tol’rak said.
