Sidra hadn’t been to the Aeluon district before. Their community on Coriol was less technologically up-to-date than their interstellar kin, but their neighbourhoods were a noticeable step up from Sixtop. The streets were well lit – rather to Sidra’s chagrin – and the buildings were clean, cared-for and, most importantly, aesthetically complementary. Everything was curved and domed, and the only colours beyond white and grey grew out of the ground.
Her quick-travel pod dropped her off outside the windowless establishment Tak’s location tag had steered her to. It didn’t look like much. There was no signage she could read, only a bright colour plate flashing soundless words on the wall. She started to make a note, then thought better of it. For a Human – even an ostensible one – recognising Aeluon emotions was a mark of cultural savvy. Understanding their language, however . . . that wasn’t something the average Human could do, and it was the sort of thing that could prompt questions. She closed her reminder list with a flicker of regret.
Tak was waiting for her. She stood in conversation with three other Aeluons, flashing their cheeks and looking congenial. She noticed Sidra approaching and called out: ‘Hey!’ The sound was startling in the silent street. She flashed something to the others, apparently bidding them farewell, then walked Sidra’s way. ‘Glad you could make it.’
‘Thanks,’ Sidra said. She glanced at the others. ‘Are we joining them?’ A quiet worry arose.
Tak smiled blue. ‘Nah, we just ran into each other. Some friends of one of my fathers.’ She leaned her head toward the nondescript building. ‘Come on, let’s get out of the cold.’ She hugged a woven sort of jacket around her torso as they went. ‘I should live in the Aandrisk district. They’ve got a hab dome heated warm enough for them to walk around naked – in this.’ She gestured to the stars that never set as they arrived at the outer wall. ‘So. I don’t know if you’ve been to one of these before,’ she said, pressing her palm against a doorframe. The wall melted to let them through.
‘One of—’ Sidra scrapped the sentence as she walked through the door. ‘Oh,’ she said softly, trying not to disturb the quiet within.
‘We obviously don’t have a spoken word for this,’ Tak whispered. ‘Klip just borrowed the Hanto for it: ro’valon. Direct translation is “city field”.’
The translation was apt. The large domed space was filled with rolling little hillocks, none taller than the kit, each covered with an inviting blanket of grass. Whatever framework rested below them had been sculpted to create leafy seats, living benches, private hollows to share secrets in, flat clearings to stretch out on. A few small trees were in there as well, creating subtle curtains and canopies. The curved walls surrounding everything were covered with projections of unending fields stretching outward, bright and clear as noon. It was realistic imagery, but the illusion had no effect on Sidra. She could tell that it wasn’t the real thing, which made it easy for her to know where to stop looking. For an organic sapient, though, she imagined the effect would’ve been quite convincing, and indeed, the people present seemed awfully content. They were mostly Aeluon, though Sidra spotted a few others (including an Aandrisk who had no qualms about lying spread-legged on his back, his discarded pants bundled beneath his head as he read his scrib).
‘It’s not as big as the ones you get on Sohep Frie,’ Tak said. ‘But it’s the best thing in the world after a busy day in a city.’
Sidra followed Tak to a sparse reception desk, where an Aeluon man sat working on a small pixel puzzle. He set it aside as they approached. Cheek flashing ensued. After a moment, he handed Tak a small rectangular device, which Sidra did not recognise. He waved at Sidra, then returned to his puzzle with interest. Tak caught Sidra’s eye and made a Human gesture – a finger against her mouth. Sidra understood, and said nothing as they ventured into the ro’valon. No one else was talking, either. It was the quietest place she’d ever been to. There was more noise in a spaceship than in here.
Tak looked around, searching for a free spot. She chose a secluded hollow with a sloping seat built into it, big enough for two people to lounge with plenty of space between them. She sat; Sidra made the kit do the same. The tended grass folded beneath them. Tak set the rectangular device down beside her and pressed her thumb to it. A soft beam of light shot up, then spread out around them in a wide, nearly-clear bubble, touching all the way to the ground.
‘I take it you’ve never seen a privacy shield before,’ Tak said, catching something on the kit’s face.
‘I haven’t, no.’ Sidra glanced over the kit’s shoulder. ‘Is it okay to talk now?’
‘Oh, yeah,’ Tak said, snuggling into the grass with relish. ‘The shield blocks all sound. It’s a courtesy thing when you’re in a place like this, but I figured it’d be doubly useful in your case.’
‘I appreciate that.’ Sidra looked around. ‘I’ve never seen anything like this.’
‘Yeah, they tend to be one of our better-kept secrets. I think we forget other species don’t have these.’
‘I meant a field, in general. I know it isn’t a real one, but . . .’
Tak blinked. ‘Stars, you’ve never been out in nature, have you?’