“Sergei, always a pleasure,” Officer Xiao said with genuine warmth and maybe a hint of flirtation. “You know where to find your temporary quarters, and feel free to help yourself to something in the kitchens. This is a late one for you.”
“Made excellent time,” Sergei said before waving us off and disappearing down the shadowy corridor.
“Please forgive the dark conditions,” Officer Xiao said once we were alone, gesturing for me to follow closely behind her as we made our own way. “We were expecting you first thing in the morning. The ship’s lighting systems are on a sleep timer, and it didn’t seem necessary to tamper with them when I could show you to your quarters myself.”
“Dark” was a relative description. The Rochester’s night setting was brighter than Ward Z on its best day; cool blue lighting piped along the floors and ceilings, casting the corridor in an eerie glow. Even in shades of dusky blue, it was apparent that the Rochester was the nicest ship I had ever set foot on. There was not an exposed rivet to be seen, and no brushed-chrome finishing—when I ran my fingers against the wall as we moved briskly into the heart of the ship, I felt only smooth coating and tapered edges. I couldn’t wait to see it with the full complement of lights on.
“Here we are,” Officer Xiao announced as we arrived at a depression in the corridor, which I realized was a door. “I have it key-coded at the moment, but we can reset it with your bio scan tomorrow.” She tapped and swiped at a panel set at chest level by the door, punching in a four-digit number code. The two interlocking panels that comprised the door whished open with near-silent precision, revealing quarters four times the size of mine aboard the Stalwart.
“Welcome home,” she said with a flourish. My mouth hung agape.
“This is all for me?” I stepped carefully over the small rise at the bottom of the hatch, through the doorway, and into the room, which could best be described as pristine.
“Of course it is. We wouldn’t ask you to share. Anyway, we have more rooms than crew on board. Jessa has two rooms dedicated to her use. We thought three might be pushing it.”
“Jessa? Is that my pupil?”
“Yes. You’ll meet her later today. But for now, try to get some rest. Morning lights are on at seven, and breakfast is served at eight. I am up at six, should you need anything. Sleep well, and we are very glad to have you here.” Officer Xiao bent slightly, dipping her head to me in a formal bow. Clumsily, I returned the gesture. Then she left me.
It took me five minutes to find the button that shut the door. Then I was faced with a new problem: standing in the pitch-black with no idea where anything was. There was no blue-piped lighting in here. Fumbling in the dark from memory, I unzipped my bag and found my tablet, using its meager illumination to search the room. There was no light switch.
I closed my eyes, breathing heavily, inhaling and exhaling to the same rhythm as the low hum of the ship’s machinery. Willing myself to calm. To think. This was a ship, not unlike the other three ships I’d been on in my life. They couldn’t be too dissimilar.
A sound, high-pitched and bloodcurdling, jolted me out of my Zen moment. It was like a laugh. But that couldn’t be. I was spooking myself in the dark.
“How do I turn the lights on?” I mumbled to myself, then jumped again as the lights flicked to life, like magic. Maybe Sergei was onto something, and this ship was haunted. Or maybe . . .
“Lights off,” I tried, and, voilà, they were off. Voice-activated asset control, like aboard the Empire. Only in my aunt Reed’s quarters, none of us children had our voices authorized by the control system, so only she could use them. “Lights on,” I said one more time, convincing myself I’d entirely imagined that eerie laugh.
I investigated the bed, which was three times the size of my old one, testing a hand on it and finding it firm but springy, the charcoal-colored sheets soft instead of slick. On the Stalwart, everything was designed to wick moisture and require less-frequent washing. I considered for a moment that I shouldn’t lie down on the covers in my filthy clothes, but a childish giddiness bubbled up inside me, overpowering my practical side, and I flung myself backwards onto the pillowed surface. Bliss.
I lifted my head to survey the room from this angle, then cocked it to the side, curious. There appeared to be another hatch door directly across from me. I got up, taking two, four, six, eight steps across the room—it was insanely large—and tentatively pressed the square-shaped button I found next to it. Whoosh, the panels parted, and I literally gasped. I had my own bathroom.
At this rate, I should be paying them to live here. This was more luxury than I could handle. Even the Empire wasn’t this well-appointed.
Stepping inside, I waved my hand in front of the sink faucet, and just like the lights, it spouted water like magic. I gazed longingly at the shower, but who knew how water was rationed here, so I didn’t dare use it. Instead, I retreated from the bathroom and set to peeling off as many layers as I could so I could try to get some sleep.
I left my bag on the floor, as I didn’t see any obvious areas for storage. I’d have to ask about that when the household was awake. I got down to my underdress, then slipped under the covers, sighing as my whole body sank into the plush of the mattress. I tried not to think about the laugh as I requested the lights be turned off. Thankfully, my mind and body were wearier than my conscious brain could battle, and before I knew it, I had drifted off to sleep.
Chapter Six
I awoke to Officer Xiao bustling about at the foot of my bed, folding linens.
“Oh, good, you’re awake!” she said, then frowned. “We’ve got to get you out of that underdress, though. Did you shower?”
“No, but I will whenever I get my shower rations for the week.”
“Stella, we don’t ration the water on board the Rochester,” she said, her tone somewhat flabbergasted. “You can shower whenever you like. Everything’s on a Kolburg recycling system. You’ll also see you have your own personal desk-tab unit over there.” She pointed to a desk to the left of the door. “And I’ve got some new clothes for you.”
She indicated the drawer that appeared at the foot of my bed when she pressed a hidden spring hinge and walked to the left of the bed. Then, placing a hand against one of the wall alcoves and pressing inward, she revealed a closet full to the brim with dresses and jackets.
What was this place?
“Oh, and whenever you’re feeling a bit stir-crazy, there’s always the window.”
“Window?” I asked, peering around. I didn’t see a window. She moved to the other side of the bed, pressing another stealth button. And then half the wall opened to reveal a black canvas of stars. That got me out of bed.
“I’ve never had a window this big,” I said stupidly, letting the view engulf my comparatively tiny body.
“Hope you don’t mind that we put you on the star-facing side. We had one or two rooms that face the moon, but they weren’t quite as spacious.”
“It’s perfect,” I breathed.
“I’ll leave you to shower and get dressed, and then I’ll come back in about an hour to show you where the dining quarters are.”