“Spread?” Vanja exclaimed.
The others looked at her. “She’s from Essre,” Nina said after a brief pause.
“Aha. Hey,” the cleaner said. “MOSO, remember?”
“Mark often, scrap often,” Vanja replied automatically.
“Here, that means often. Or it’ll spread. You’ll keep an eye on her, yeah?” The cleaner gave them a wave and left.
“Well, then.” Ivar pushed his chair back. “Let’s see what’s what, then.”
The corner where the bed had stood was empty. The cleaners’ tools had left long scratches in the floor. Vanja’s boot was nowhere to be seen. “This is ‘barely’?” Vanja said. She took a step into the room. The foot without a boot tingled.
Ivar let out a short laugh. “It’s always ‘barely.’”
Vanja looked around the room. It would be very uncomfortable to sleep on the floor. And so close to where it had happened.
“You can sleep in my room,” Nina offered. “We’ll get you a new bed tomorrow.”
Vanja hadn’t been into Nina’s room before; the door had always been closed. It was more austere and unadorned than she had thought it would be. The bed was immaculately made, the cabinets shut. There was no desk. A poster of an old evening poem sat on the walclass="underline"
Nina stripped down to her green underpants and a shirt that fit snuggly across her shoulders and upper arms. They were beautiful shoulders, wide and rounded. She wasn’t wearing a bra; her breasts moved freely under her shirt. Vanja turned away and peeled off her outmost layer of clothes, folding and stacking them carefully. She was afraid to turn around.
“We’ll have to lie on our sides,” Nina said. “No room for sleeping on your back.” She was already in bed, facing the wall.
Vanja slipped in under the duvet next to Nina and stared out into the room. “Are you angry?” she asked.
“I got over it hours ago,” Nina mumbled. “But if you steal the duvet or snore. Then.”
“Anyway, I’m sorry.”
“Or if you apologize again. Then.”
“Sorry,” Vanja said before she could stop herself.
Nina gave her a kick. “Last chance. Good night.”
Vanja heard Nina’s breaths deepen and slow down, heard the rustle of sheets when Nina’s legs twitched as she drifted off. It shouldn’t be that difficult to fall asleep; it had been a long day. The business with the suitcase had been draining, and she was used to sharing a bed. But the warmth radiating from Nina’s back was so palpable. It spread down the backs of her legs and made the soles of her feet prickle. Vanja scooted as close as she could without actually touching Nina’s back with her own. She lay awake for a long time.
THE SECOND WEEK
FIRSTDAY
Vanja woke on her back with Nina’s breath on her cheek. As she opened her eyes, she caught Nina quickly closing hers. Nina lay on her side, hands cradled against her chest. One of her elbows touched Vanja’s upper arm; a knee brushed against Vanja’s thigh. The two points of contact burned her skin through the layers of clothes. Vanja closed her eyes again and lay very still. At length, Nina sighed and sat up. She slid down to the foot of the bed and onto the floor, where she hunted around for her socks.
“Sock, sock, shoe, shoe. Trousers, shirt,” she mumbled at the garments as she picked them up. “Brr. Cold. Good morning!”
“Good morning.” Vanja stretched. Her body ached, as if she’d been tensed up in her sleep.
Nina opened her wardrobe and took out a pair of boots. “Here, my spares.” She placed them next to the bed.
“Thank you very much,” Vanja mumbled.
“Keep them. It’s better that someone’s using them.”
Vanja stayed in bed until Nina had finished dressing and gone down to the kitchen. She crawled out from under the blanket and picked up her neatly folded clothes from the desk chair. The boots were a size too big, but she could walk in them. Her arm and leg tingled where Nina’s body had touched hers. If the new bed wasn’t delivered today, they would have to share again tonight. At first she didn’t recognize the sensation that flared in the pit of her stomach. It had been so long.
Ulla was in the kitchen, pouring a cup of dark and acrid-looking coffee. “Good morning.” She gave Vanja a small smile.
“Good morning,” Vanja replied.
“Had another accident, did you?” Ulla’s smile became a strange grin.
“I’m sorry,” Vanja said. “I really am.”
Ulla tutted. “You’re not in Essre anymore, dear.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. It’s done.” Ulla paused. “What did it look like?”
“What did what look like?”
“When the suitcase had dissolved. What did it look like?”
Vanja shrugged. “It didn’t look like much at all. Just… sludge.”
“I thought you were a researcher.”
“What do you mean?”
“I would expect some curiosity,” Ulla said. “A good researcher is curious about everything. Even that which one would find terrifying.”
“I’m curious,” Vanja said. “But I wasn’t going to stay there and watch.”
“Well,” Ulla said, “that’s where you and I differ. I would have taken the chance to observe.”
“Observe what?”
“How it behaves,” Ulla said slowly.
Something in Ulla’s eyes made Vanja shiver.
“Now, then,” Ulla said in a very different voice, “did you want to interview me, too? Nina said you might want to talk to an old doctor.”
“I’ll let you know,” Vanja said. “I have to go write a report.”
“You do that,” Ulla replied. “You know where to find me.”
Finishing her next short report took some time because the memory of Nina’s heat against her back kept distracting her, but finally it was done. Vanja put it in an envelope along with the first report. The box she’d brought from the pharmacy was just big enough to fit all the product samples and the envelope. It was also just about light enough that she could carry it on her own, so she did, to the post office next to the train station. The clerk informed her that the train from Essre was on its way in to load and unload and placed Vanja’s parcel on one of the pallets headed for the platform.
Vanja stepped out onto the platform. The tracks ran in a straight line to the south until they climbed a low hill and disappeared. The train was on its way down that hill, and the rails gave off a whirring sound that made the hairs on Vanja’s neck stand up. The noise rose in volume as the train approached; when the train finally arrived at the platform, it was so loud Vanja had to cover her ears. The train was made of good metal that had been in use ever since the pioneers arrived, scratched and eroded, painted over many times. A section of the paint on the passenger car had bubbled and come loose, as if exposed to extreme heat. It hadn’t looked like that when Vanja had last seen it. Something must have happened out there. Everyone knew the world outside of the colonies was dangerous, but the committee had never spoken of the details. Vanja thought about herself in the little car, unaware of the world outside the train’s protective shell, of whatever it was that could do something like this to a train made of good metal.