A Closed and Common Orbit (Wayfarers #2)

Pepper came back down a step. ‘Yep. He did that one after our vacation on Kep’toran.’ Her lips twitched with a private smile. ‘All of these are places we’ve been together.’

Sidra opened the file named Human artistic practices, which she’d compiled on the shuttle after Pepper had told her Blue was a painter. ‘Does he always use physical media, or does he do digital work as well?’

Pepper looked amused. ‘Didn’t know you were an art lover. Yeah, mostly physical, unless commissioned for something. I’ll take you to his shop up in the art district sometime soon.’ She kept speaking as she continued up the stairs. ‘Took me almost a decade of bothering before he finally started selling his stuff. I’m biased, of course, but he is really good, and I’m glad I’m not the only one who sees it any more.’ She reached the top of the stairs and sidestepped a pile of dubiously clean laundry. ‘He’s even got a patron of sorts. This old rich Harmagian. Algae merchant. I think she’s commissioned four of his pieces by now. We got a new engine for the shuttle with that.’

Pepper stepped through an unremarkable doorway, waving the lights on as she entered. It was a room. Sidra didn’t know how to quantify it beyond that. How did one place value on a room? She couldn’t say if the room was good or not, but it was hers. That was interesting.

Pepper rubbed the back of her head, looking apologetic. ‘It’s nothing fancy,’ she said. ‘And we’ve been using it for storage.’ She nodded at the stacks of crates and boxes, hastily shoved aside to make pathways and openings. ‘But it’s clean – Blue cleaned, and he made the bed, too. I don’t know if you’ll want the bed. I know you don’t need to sleep.’ Pepper pressed her lips together, a little at a loss. ‘I don’t know what a good space for you consists of. But we’ll work together to make it comfortable, yeah? We really want you to feel at home here.’

‘Thank you,’ Sidra said, and she meant it, fully. She didn’t know what she wanted in a space, either. She swung the head around, trying to take inventory. There was the bed, as mentioned, big enough for two if they cuddled close. The covers were thick, to ward off the dark side chill, and the pillows looked . . . inviting. Not knowing what else to do, she approached the bed, and pressed the kit’s hand into one of the pillows. It sank down in a pleasing sort of way.

She turned and tried to assess everything else. There was an empty workdesk, and a storage cupboard, and – she shut the kit’s eyes and felt the face grimace.

‘What’s wrong?’ Pepper asked.

‘I don’t know if I can explain it.’

‘Try. I’m listening.’

The kit exhaled. ‘I’m having trouble processing what I see. That’s been the case since installation. I don’t mean a malfunction. I mean this is hard. I’m meant to have cameras up in corners, looking down from above. Only being able to see this’ – she moved the kit’s hands, outlining her field of vision – ‘is frustrating. It’s one thing not being able to see behind a camera in a corner. But feeling empty space behind me and not knowing what’s there . . . it’s disconcerting. I don’t like it.’

Pepper put her hands on her hips and looked around. ‘Well, here.’ She shoved some boxes aside, pushed the desk into a corner, and made an upward gesture. ‘There ya go.’

Sidra stared for two seconds, then understood. She pulled the kit up onto the desk and backed it into the corner, as far as it would go. The top of the head now occupied the upper corner of the room.

‘How’s that?’ Pepper asked.

Sidra slowly moved the kit’s head from side to side, imagining that she were operating one of the cameras aboard the Wayfarer. Seeing only one room at a time was still limiting, but this perspective – ‘Good,’ she said, feeling the kit’s limbs loosen. ‘Oh, that’s so helpful.’ She took in the room for three minutes, looking up and down, side to side. ‘Can I see it from the other corners, too?’

Pepper helped her rearrange furniture. They rearranged it again and again, each time creating a new angle Sidra could perch the kit in. When her bedroom had been sufficiently examined, they continued back through the house, dragging crates and tables around, Blue lending a hand with the bigger stuff. Neither of the Humans questioned it. Eventually the food drone arrived, bearing two grasshopper burgers (extra pepper sauce, extra onion), one order of spicy beansteak skewers (Blue didn’t eat animals, Sidra had learned), and some kind of fried vegetable sticks. Pepper and Blue ate their meal cross-legged on the floor as Sidra moved furniture. She was being presumptuous, she knew, but they didn’t seem to mind her disrupting their home, and she was too excited by this new way of discovering a space to stop. She navigated the kit around the house again and again, observing from corners, trying out every vantage point, learning all the details.

She still felt weird. The kit was still wrong. But she did feel better.





Feed source: unknown Encryption: 4

Translation: 0

Becky Chambers's books