Time for a Book (for prompt “Bookshop”)
It’s always cooler than Acenath expects when she warps to the Nova Station. Particularly after spending hours at the arid Observatory in the height of summer. Her fur fluffs against the breeze that blows across the landing pad as she walks through the open doors, but she savors the refreshing breath it brings.
The Nova Station is a large space, a testament to the newest technologies scientists have to offer, with server racks and status monitors on open display and with bright LED lights as pops of fluorescent color, illuminating carbon-fiber composite walls where wide windows do not. After spending several days in the overgrown ruins of ancient civilizations, and another day among her own people’s traditional sandstone architecture, it’s always a slight shock to Acenath to drop by the Station. Helps her keep things in perspective, at least.Â
The sweet aromas of carefully-maintained crops in hydroponics, underpinned by the sharp tang of air fresheners, tickle Acenath’s nose as she meanders through the foyer and down the stairs to the second floor of the Station. It’s fairly early in the morning, planet-side, and the local star shines its bright light through the tall windows strewn across the walls, punctuating the pristine, geometric, and otherwise nigh-monochromatic construction with views of open air. Lovely, clean, and lively as ever as people of all species wander about the place.Â
Most of the visitors don’t recognize Acenath, neither does she recognize them. Aside from the staff and the regular merchants, people rarely stay here long. What started as a quiet trade station above an Orion-owned city has become a checkpoint for all sorts of people seeking new homes and new life in recent years.Â
Acenath is one of the few regulars at the Nova Station. Regular enough, at least, that a few of the staff out and about give her a wave as she passes; even the Floran operating the fragrant flower stall at the far end of the foyer pauses her hawking long enough to wave.
And tucked in a quiet corner of the second floor, in a clean enclosed stall proudly announcing books for sale, so too does Acenath’s friend—the Hylotl owner of the Station’s bookstore.
“Good morning, Acenath!” Osamu hails, waving her arm wide to catch her attention. Not that doing so is entirely needed—her pale coral skin and bright orange yukata already stand out against the pristine silvers framing her store.
Acenath smiles and walks over. “To you, as well!” she greets back, lightly resting her hands on the counter and enjoying how organized her friend keeps her store. “How’s business today?”
Osamu shrugs lightly, glancing over her shoulder at the rows of books and codexes lining the shelf behind her, each standing proudly as it awaits purchase. “As well as you can expect,” she hums, the sky-blue fin that circles her head flicking slightly, “So far it’s just been the odd traveler hoping for a pamphlet or two, but come this afternoon and I’m sure I’ll have more business. After all, your books should be arriving in an hour or two,” she adds, sending a bright smile back at her, “I’ve already had some preorders.”
Acenath’s ears perk, and she barely restrains herself from bouncing on her toes. A scholar’s got to have some dignity, after all. But still she exclaims, “Oh that’s wonderful! Have you had a chance to read them yet? I’m really proud of how well the research came together!”
Osamu shakes her head with a laugh, thumbing the two books stacked on the countertop of her stall, “No, I haven’t had the opportunity yet. But speaking of your research…” Her smile grows sly and she squints one of her eyes at her. “Rumor has it you got into a bit of a situation while poking around some ruins again.”
Oh, that. A long groan escapes Acenath as her ears flatten and she wilts until her head thuds the countertop. “Ah…I was hoping you wouldn’t hear about that…”Â
Again Osamu laughs, a light sound despite her low voice. “Why? What happened this time?”
Acenath’s ears flatten until the tips brush the countertop as heat rises to her face. “I…may have gotten tied up between the Peacekeepers and a bounty again,” she eventually admits.
“Again?”
“Again.”
“By Homeworld,” Osamu huffs, voice somewhere between a laugh and an astonished sigh, either way partially muffled by a hand, “I swear you have the worst luck of anyone I’ve ever met.” Her voice clears as she adds with a chuckle, “Perhaps it is to balance out your fortune with those discoveries of yours.”
Acenath rolls her eyes with another groan, head still on the counter.Â
Once more Osamu chuckles, and around wisps of her own hair Acenath glimpses Osamu resting one hand on the edge of the counter while she grabs an unseen book with the other. “In any case, perhaps this will cheer you up before you have to admit anything to your superiors. Or…cheer you up after having to do so,” Osamu muses, “Whichever.”
“It’ll be the latter,” Acenath automatically mutters, barely refraining from groaning again when a blend of Captain Noble’s and the Grand Archivist’s scoldings echo in her head before curiosity overrides them both when Osamu sets a new book on the countertop near her ear. Her ear twitches on its own from the brush of Osamu’s hand, but then both her ears perk as she finally lifts her head. The book is only an inch thick, with a bright lavender cover that looks like well-maintained faux leather. Not an easy material to come by; at least not this quality. “What’s this?” she asks, gingerly brushing the cover with the pad of a finger. It’s soft.
“It’s the last edition of that fantasy novel you told me you liked,” Osamu says, her fin flicking while she spins the book with two fingers until it faces Acenath. “Quite the collector’s item—it hasn’t had new editions printed since Earth.”
Reverently Acenath picks up the book, barely even attempting to restrain the smile of awe that sprouts as she savors the texture of the faux leather and the rich scent of the paper pages. They must be at least a decade old. And to have survived the exodus…Â
After gently thumbing the pages, she looks up at Osamu with bright eyes. “How much is this?”
Osamu grins, her peachy-red eyes glinting in amusement. “Normally I would price such a limited item at a good few thousand Pixels. But since you are such a regular customer…”
After a minute of discussion and playful haggling, Acenath purchases the novel for a fair discount. It still takes most of the Pixels she was reserving for non-research purposes, though. But as far as she’s concerned, it’s a worthy investment. Better than the…ah…“deal” she made the other day with those bandits Captain Noble was after. Besides, if anyone back home asks, she can always chalk it up to preserving an artifact from Earth.
Purchase in hand, Acenath all but skips to the little reading nook by Osamu’s bookstore. It’s a small room, barely any bigger than the stall itself, with the only furniture therein being a bookshelf packed with bright neon blue-and-magnets Orion technology manuals and codexes in the far corner, a small geometric couch in the near corner, and a small, inverted-triangle shaped desk next to it. A cardboard box, overflowing with books Osamu has yet to organize, keeps the door open, while a small plant tops the bookshelf and an antique bobble-head in the shape of a Human dancer adorns the desk. The blue-tinted window is open, allowing bright morning sunlight and a refreshing breeze from the city below fill the room. It’s simple, but it’s all it needs to be.
Content, Acenath shrugs her scholarly white jacket off and drapes it on the arm of the couch while she settles on it herself, novel safely held against her chest. And with no one to scold her for lack of decorum, she pulls her feet up, curls around the book, and loses herself in the pages.Â
Sure, she has more meetings scheduled for later, plus a seminar to start planning for eventually. She’s going to have to start coalescing her notes for that at some point. But for now, those can wait. Time for a book.
