◆◆◇◇◆◆
1. A New Resident, or: The Weakest Rival Yet
"...Perfect. The shape. The give. This is a faithful reproduction."
The Silver Anchor. Ledea Mace's bedroom.
Ledea herself sat on the edge of her bed, gazing at the thing occupying its center with an expression of complete satisfaction.
It was a life-sized stuffed animal — a Pom, modeled after the creature they had rescued and released not long ago. She had found it in a station gift shop and, in a rare departure from her usual deliberation, bought it on the spot. Now she smoothed its orange fur with both hands, settled herself beside it, and pressed her cheek against it with quiet contentment.
"Hehe... Shutia, look. The texture is remarkably close to the real thing."
"...Yeah. It really is, sis. So cute. ...Watching sis be happy is the single greatest thing in my universe. ...Probably."
Shutia was watching from the doorway, smile fixed in place, a tremendous internal storm blowing through her at considerable force.
*(...That cotton thing. That stuffed cotton thing just — occupied the exact center of sis's bed — sis's sacred space — while I wasn't looking. While *I* exist.)*
"Shutia? I heard something that sounded like unsettled muttering."
"What?! N-no, nothing! I was just going to say that I can be just as fluffy as that thing — look, my pajamas are brushed fabric, so if sis hugged me I'd be significantly more comfortable than any stuffed animal—!"
Shutia thrust her arms toward Ledea with some urgency.
"No thank you. ...You'd wait until I fell asleep and start taking photographs. I know how this goes. Have you forgotten the cleaning robot?"
"Ugh..."
Ledea fixed her with a look. Shutia lost her words. Ledea exhaled, turned back to the Pom, and smoothed its fur again.
"...Behave yourself. I'm going to go make some adjustments to yesterday's navigation data."
◆◆◇◇◆◆
2. A Golden Waterfall, or: An Old Hero
An hour later. Ledea finished her adjustments and returned to the living area.
What she found was not what she had expected.
Shutia was lying on her back across the large sofa, one arm raised, a book held above her face. Her long golden hair had spilled off the cushion's edge and fallen toward the floor in a slow cascade — a waterfall catching the artificial light, bright and still. Her expression, in profile, was distant. Unhurried. Soft in a way that it rarely was.
Ledea stopped walking.
*(...She really is beautiful. If Shutia were quiet more often, she would probably be the most striking person in the galaxy.)*
There was a small, involuntary comparison to her own slight frame — and then the book caught her attention properly.
"Shutia. ...That's a physical book. Paper. That's unusual."
In an age when all information existed as holograms or at worst as electronic displays, a book made of bound paper pages was the kind of thing found in museums or the private collections of the very wealthy.
"Oh — welcome back, sis."
Shutia kept the book raised and smiled sideways at her.
"Yeah. I found it when I was going through my things. I've had it for a long time. Something made me want to read it again."
"What kind of book?" Ledea moved closer, drawn without quite meaning to be. The smell reached her first — old paper, slightly sweet, slightly dry. "I didn't know you bought books."
"It's a biography. An adventure story — ancient, from back when Earth existed, apparently."
Shutia ran her thumb along the cover, gently, with the ease of something done many times before.
"Heroes on wooden ships with sails, crossing a dark ocean — so much smaller than space, but unknown in every direction. Pushing forward into it anyway." A pause. "This book gave me courage, once."
There was something in her voice that was both nostalgic and entirely serious.
"...Courage."
"Yes. The kind that keeps going even when you don't know where you're headed. The kind that doesn't let you lose yourself."
◆◆◇◇◆◆
3. The Best Seat in the House, or: A Perfect Page
"Do you want to read it together, sis?"
Shutia sat up in one smooth motion and resettled herself on the sofa. Then she patted her own lap, twice, with calm expectation.
"Best seat available. Right here."
"...You always go straight to that."
Ledea's expression was flat. But something in Shutia's unhurried manner had already begun to work on her.
"...Fine. Just this once."
She sat down on Shutia's lap with movements that were slightly more self-conscious than she would have liked.
Shutia's warmth came through immediately, all along her back.
"...This is — you're very close."
"It's fine, sis. Don't move. ...Now — here's where we are."
Shutia wrapped one arm around Ledea's small frame and opened the book between them.
Yellowed paper. Black ink. The typeface was uneven in the way that old printing was uneven — imperfect, and somehow warmer for it.
"...Oh. Actually turning a physical page — that's a different feeling."
"Right? It feels like you're moving the story forward yourself."
Shutia turned the pages slowly. Between them: the faint vibration of the ship's engines, and the small sound of paper moving. Ledea settled into the circle of Shutia's arms and read.
Storms on a dark ocean. A light at the edge of the horizon. Promises made between people who had chosen to face the unknown together.
Shutia rested her chin on Ledea's silver hair and narrowed her eyes with quiet satisfaction.
"...Sis. That stuffed animal is cute. It really is." A pause. "But sis, here, in my arms — you're still the destination. The end of the adventure. For me."
"......You say unnecessary things. Let me read."
Ledea's reply was blunt.
Her face, hidden behind the book's open pages, had gone entirely red.
The old paper told its stories of ancient heroes and forgotten seas.
Shutia's fingers turned the next page.
The Silver Anchor's living area had become, without anyone deciding it should, a quiet reading room — and outside its walls, the noise of the universe went on without them.