The Galaxy, and the Ground Within (Wayfarers #4)(8)



It took Roveg a moment to realise this was the child’s attempt to verify his identity. Apparently this was what passed for docking security here. ‘Yes, that’s me,’ he said, hoping he was correct in his interpretation of whatever was going on.

The Laru bobbed xyr long, shaggy neck in acknowledgement and holstered the scrib in the light satchel strapped across xyr back. Xe swung xyr head to the left and plodded along after, leading Roveg inside without another word.

A pair of doors slid open. The Five-Hop One-Stop lay beyond. The place was … quaint. Charming, in a bucolic way. Roveg was not the sort to condescend about such things; arrogance was a quality he strongly disliked, and took care to dig it out of himself whenever he found it. But he’d have been a liar if he’d said this establishment was his first choice. He’d hoped to stop over at the Reskit Afternoon, a well-reviewed restaurant in Gora’s southern hemisphere, but their dock had been fully booked, as had the Goran sculpture garden, and the Harmagian baths, and the city field. Much as Roveg would’ve liked a bit of a treat to ease the journey, the only thing that was truly necessary for him was fuel, and when it became clear that docking space on Gora was in high demand that day, he changed tactics and jumped on the first open reservation slot he could grab.

He looked around, assessing just where that choice had taken him.

Someone had worked hard on this place, someone who substituted love for money whenever the latter ran short. The circular space within the dome was home to a selection of fab-printed, bubble-shaped buildings of varied size, all painted in benign whites and greys – a palette clearly intended for the comfort of Aeluons, who could grow fatigued from more colourful architecture that their species would interpret as yelling at them. The walking paths branching between the buildings looked hand-laid, and were paved in a manner suitable for Harmagian carts. The filtered air was warm – warmer than a densely coated Laru would choose on xyr own, he assumed, but quite comfortable by his standards, managing to strike a considered compromise between his own Quelin preference for a soothing cloud of humidity and the Aandrisk penchant for desert dryness. It wasn’t perfect, but it would make most people happy. Roveg had the feeling that was the underlying aim with everything in this place.

A sign hung over the entry pathway, and it was crammed with so many words in so many languages that the well-intended attempt at universal communication had rendered it nearly unreadable. The Tellerain was grammatically jarring (he respected the effort, at least), so he skimmed through the Klip instead.

WELCOME TO THE FIVE-HOP ONE-STOP!

THE LITTLE DOME WITH A LOT OF OPTIONS!

YOUR GROUND HOST: OOLI OHT OULOO

YOUR ASSISTANT GROUND HOST: OOLI OHT TUPO

Beside this was a close-up picture of the ground hosts in question, both enthusiastically mugging for the camera. Tupo had to be the child Roveg followed now, for the little one in the portrait looked exactly like xyr, only half the size, twice as fluffy, and in a good mood.

The overwhelming signage continued.

OUR RULES:

NO WEAPONS!

NO MAGNETS!

NO BAD TIMES!!!

THIS WAY:

OFFICE AND SUNDRY SHOP

- CERTIFIED TRAVEL PERMITS

- CERTIFIED IMUBOT SOFTWARE UPGRADES

- OFFICIAL GC TRANSIT AUTHORITY MAP CHIPS

- WATER FILTRATION STATION

- SOUVENIRS!

- GIFTS!

- SNACKS!

HOST RESIDENCE AND

LIFE SUPPORT/COMMS FACILITIES

NOT OPEN TO GUESTS

THAT WAY:

FUEL AND FIX-ITS

- BARRELLED ALGAE

- ALGAE STARTERS

- PHOTOVOLTAIC REPAIR

- MECH TECH BITS AND BOBS

- NO COMP TECH SUPPLIES ON SITE,

BUT WE CAN COURIER THEM IN!

THE ONE AND ONLY GORAN

NATURAL HISTORY MUSEUM

DON’T MISS IT!!!

STRAIGHT AHEAD:

REST AND RELAX DURING YOUR LAYOVER AT THE FIVE-HOP’S WORLD-FAMOUS MULTISPECIES BATHHOUSE AND FLOWER GARDEN!

- FIXTURES AND FAUCETS FOR EVERY SAPIENT!

- TRY OUR HOMEMADE SCALE SCRUB, BATH FIZZ, STEAM TABS, AND SOAP!

- TRADITIONAL LARU DESSERT OFFERED FREE IN THE GARDEN EVERY DAY FROM 14:00 - 17:00

- WE PROUDLY GROW AND USE NOTHING BUT HYPO-ALLERGENIC PLANTS ENGINEERED BY UTLOOT AGRICULTURAL LABS

- NO BUGS! NO RAIN! BETTER THAN OUTDOORS!

- HARMAGIAN-STYLE SWIMMING LANE COMING SOON!

Just as Roveg was beginning to feel overwhelmed by the glut of exclamation points, their presumed wielder appeared in front of him.

Laru were, to his eyes, a hilarious-looking species. He’d never say it to one of their faces, and he knew well that biological normality was extremely relative. He was sure he looked odd to plenty of people outside of his own phenotype. But stars above, Laru were so floppy. Their limbs were like animated noodles, their stubby torsos thick and bumbling, their long tail-like necks somewhere between a nightmare and a grand cosmic joke. This Laru – Ouloo, he assumed – had styled her fur in an explosion of intense curls that reminded him of nothing so much as the stacked rows of icing he’d once seen at a Human bakery. She definitely looked to be the sort who would love a good exclamation point (or twelve).

Roveg was proved correct, though the Laru’s volume was directed not at him, but his young guide. ‘Tupo!’ the older Laru scolded. The child visibly cringed. ‘I thought I told you to restock the steam bath before Captain Tem got here.’ She pointed an angry paw at the middle path. Roveg saw enticing angled hedges down that way, and among them, an Aeluon walking contemplatively – the owner of the fine shuttle, one would assume.

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