‘I’m Sister Cadence,’ says the blue-eyed woman, holding out a hand as if to invite me to take it. ‘I was given access to your travelogue for safety purposes.’
I frown. Only my boss could have approved that.
Shaking off my unease, I force a smile. ‘Pleased to meet you, Sister Cadence. I appreciate the hospitality.’
She only smiles wider, her hand still extended.
‘Ah, sorry,’ I say, realizing I’m being rude. I step forward and take her hand. Her grip is weak, her palm almost clammy as I shake it. I drop her hand quickly, but she seems satisfied.
‘I have prepared your quarters,’ Cadence says, addressing both Irena and myself. ‘Settle in. Bathe. Dinner is in an hour.’ She turns to me. ‘Sister Irena will take you to your room, Midonia.’
‘Thanks.’
Cadence departs, and the sisters who had come out to gawk at me turn away, their white-robed forms fanning out in the gloom as they head to their homes.
Irena remains with me, smiling warmly. ‘Tonight, as with every night, we will pray to our god as part of our supping ceremony. You will join us in prayer.’
My heart sinks. ‘Oh. I’m actually good, thanks for the offer though.’
She blinks as if not understanding me. ‘You will pray with us. Without prayer, there can be no supping.’
I should have seen this coming. ‘Irena, you know I’m not going to pray with you.’
‘Then you won’t eat.’
I wait for the punchline. The laugh, the head shake.Just playing, Midonia! But she only stares at me, brows raised in expectation.
‘You’re serious?’
‘You stand now on his hallowed ground. To partakeof his plenty, you must thank him for it.’ Her expression softens very slightly. ‘It’s the very least you can do.’
I glance over my shoulder. My ship is still cooling off, thin steam curling off its hot metal surface, its engine still clicking as it winds down. I don’t have to stay here; I can go anywhere else. I turn back to Irena, and those huts. I notice they’re equipped with chimneys, the smoke from unseen fires rising up and mingling in the chill air.
Icouldleave. But I’d be returning to the oppressive cold of space, dehydrated rations, and worst of all the misery of my own company. A pointless prayer is, as Irena said, the very least I can do.
I heave a sigh. ‘Sure. Fine.’
Her face breaks into a genuine smile, and that alone seems to warm me from inside. Why am I being so stubborn? It’s not like she’s trying to recruit me. One little prayer isn’t going to ruin my life.
‘Come along, then,’ says Irena. ‘We will bathe, and then we will eat.’
She takes my hand, her grip firm and dry, a comfort in the chill dusk.
4
My ‘room’ is actually an entire two-roomed cabin adjacent to the bell tower. In a motherly gesture, Irena fluffs my pillow and straw mattress – basic, homespun, but infinitely more comfortable than anything on my ship. And just as promised, there’s a small stone fireplace against one wall, a fire already crackling warmly. I stand around awkwardly. I brought nothing with me except the clothes on my back.
The other room in the cabin houses a large bathtub, and little else. But it’s more than I had hoped for. An entire home to myself for one night? A home this size on New Earth would have cost three times as much as my studio. In population-dense parts of the system, we trade personal space for convenience. My studio barely fits my essentials, and I have to share a bathroom with everyone else on my floor, but there’s always hot water. Fast Wi-Fi. Convenient transit. A thousand different cuisines, all within minutes of my high-rise building.
But all this space, here on this remote planet, after along journey in the frozen dark of space, feels unspeakably luxurious.
‘Bathe first,’ Irena instructs, hovering by the door. ‘I will fetch you for dinner.’
And then I’m alone.
It’s soquiet. I sit on the edge of the mattress, then fall backward, groaning at its crackling softness. Compared to my ship’s pull-out travel cot, it’s pure bliss. In the distance roars the river, down steep rapids that carry it away to a valley below. Up here against the cliff, where the air is thin and clean, the river roils and foams over craggy rocks. The vegetation around it must be wet with dew, and when winter comes … When winter comes, I’ll be long gone. Still, I wonder if it gets cold enough for the river to freeze over, or if it roars like that, a ferocious creature, all year round.
I sit up abruptly. If I lie down for too long I’ll fall asleep and miss dinner altogether. Yawning, lulled to sleepiness by the fire’s warmth and the river’s roar, I kick off my boots. I feel suddenly desperate to get out of my dirty clothes, pulling at them in a frenzy. My leather jacket is next to crumple to the floor, followed by my travel trousers, and then my thick turtleneck sweater. After that, I peel off my insulated undershirt. I slip eagerly out of my underthings, discarding them on the wooden floor along with the rest of my clothes.
