The Galaxy, and the Ground Within (Wayfarers #4)(82)

‘You’ve never laid down and looked at the stars?’ he asked.

Speaker did not appear to understand the point. ‘I live in space,’ she said. ‘I see stars all the time.’

‘We all live in space,’ Pei said, ‘but it’s … it’s different, from the ground.’

‘Come,’ Roveg said. ‘You must give it a try. And if your suit gets stuck, we’ll get you back up.’

Speaker was right about the suit’s mechanical capabilities, but it was strange to be lying down that way. She didn’t spend much time lying on her back to begin with, and doing so in her cockpit was downright odd. But once she’d adjusted to the weirdness – and figured out how to angle the cup of suckingly sweet pudding so that it wouldn’t spill everywhere – she took in the view with thoughtful silence. She did see stars all the time. The windows of her ship were full of stars far more often than not.

But Pei was right. This was different.

‘They’re so … soft,’ Speaker said with surprise. ‘They’re not as sharp. Is that because of the dome?’

‘No,’ Roveg said. ‘It’s the atmosphere. It mutes them. And see how they—’

‘They move,’ Speaker said. She laughed. ‘I’ve read books in Klip that made mention of the stars twinkling, but I thought … I thought they were just being poetic. Like they were comparing them to jewellery, or glass. I didn’t think …’

‘That they did that?’ Roveg asked.

‘Right,’ Speaker said.

‘Why do they twinkle?’ Tupo asked.

‘Air currents,’ Pei said. ‘You know how when you make tea and you look in the mug when it’s really hot, you can see the liquid swirling around itself?’

‘I don’t like tea,’ Tupo said.

‘You like soup,’ Ouloo said.

‘Yeah,’ Tupo said.

‘And have you seen that swirl?’ Ouloo asked.

‘Yeah,’ Tupo said.

‘Air does the same thing,’ Pei said. ‘And it makes the light shining through it wiggle.’

‘Which one’s Uoa?’ Tupo asked. The Laru species’ home system.

Ouloo let out the sigh of a parent who’d been asked a good question for which she had no answer. ‘I have no idea,’ she said.

‘Well, let’s find out.’ Roveg wriggled a few legs behind himself awkwardly, trying to get at the satchel tied around his abdomen, currently smooshed between his back and the ground. ‘Tupo, can you reach the big pocket on the side of my bag? I’m trying to get my scrib.’ He knew Ouloo’s scrib was more handy, but … no. Never again. Thankfully, Tupo obliged, and placed Roveg’s own scrib into his waiting toes. ‘Thank you very much,’ he said. He made a few gestures, then held the device up to the sky. The scrib chirped in response, and displayed a map of the stars behind it. ‘Let’s see,’ Roveg said, scanning. ‘All right, well, we’re not at Uoa yet, but do you see that orangish one?’

‘Where?’ Tupo asked.

‘Yeah, where?’ Pei asked.

‘Here, follow my leg.’ Roveg extended a single thoracic leg and traced it from horizon to heavens. ‘Come up from here, go left for a while, and then …’

‘Oh, I think I see it,’ Pei said.

‘I don’t!’ Tupo said.

‘Tupo, be patient,’ Ouloo said. ‘Look where Roveg’s pointing.’

‘Oh!’ Tupo said. ‘Yeah, I see it!’

‘Do you actually see it?’ xyr mother asked. ‘Or are you guessing?’

The child scoffed. ‘I said I could see it.’

‘That’s the Aandrisk home system,’ said Roveg.

‘Huh,’ Pei said. Her talkbox carried the word with a laugh, and Roveg shared the sentiment. He’d stood on Hashkath many a time, watching the sun cast haunting shadows across the red rock valleys. That memory came packaged with feelings of warmth and dazzling brightness – nothing he would associate with the pale speck so insignificant alongside the scatter of countless others exactly like it.

‘Cool,’ Tupo said, and then, a bare second later: ‘What about Uoa?’

Roveg did a quick search for it in the star map. ‘Ah,’ he said regretfully. ‘Won’t be up tonight. Seems that’s a winter star on Gora.’

‘What’s a winter star?’

‘Means you won’t be able to see it until the winter.’

Speaker chimed in, after a moment. ‘Can you find Iteiree?’ she asked.

Roveg didn’t recognise the name of the star – and given the tone in Speaker’s voice, was a little ashamed that he didn’t. He searched; the scrib obliged. ‘Let me see, let me see.’ He scanned, pointed, traced. ‘There,’ he said. ‘Do you see that row of four large ones that – ah, how to explain – they curve just a bit, like the edge of a bowl.’

Speaker looked; he could hear the frown in her silence. ‘Oh,’ she said. ‘Yes, yes, I see it.’

‘Go up from the left-most one about forty-five degrees. Do you see that yellow—’

‘Yes.’

‘That’s it,’ he said.