Iona pulled up a box to sit on and watched the figures work for a few hours. There was nothing else to do, after all. She watched as they opened the hatch in the roof, which was for filling and emptying the container, and lowered a figure inside. She watched as they cut a rectangular panel out of one side and fashioned a doorway from it. She watched as they thoroughly cleaned the interior, rewired the automated control systems, and installed controls that could be accessed from the inside.

One of the figures came over to Iona and asked if it could get her anything to eat or drink. Iona asked for some water and fruit. The figure brought her both and she ate them in the sun. She could have done with some sunglasses, actually, but she guessed this was beyond the figures’ capability to supply.

After a while she started to feel cold and made her way back to the medical facility, where she discovered Saori and Victor weren’t speaking to each other. She didn’t inquire why. If it hadn’t sorted itself out by tomorrow she’d address it. They had a long journey ahead of them on that crate and she had no intention of playing mother to a bunch of squabbling kids.

* * *

The next morning Iona returned to the plain to find significant progress had been made overnight. Steve came with her. She wasn’t sure if this was due to interest in the ship or a desire to remove himself from the conflict zone.

The truck had been fully lined on the inside with rubber-like tiles that could emit light where needed. In each corner a cubicle had been fitted that offered something similar to cryogenic suspension: thoughtfully the figures had placed these cubicles as far away from each other as possible and constructed small rooms around them to give them each some personal space within the tiny confines of the craft. At the front, in the gap between two of these cubicles, a basic two-dimensional screen had been mounted above the control panel. There were four chairs arranged in two rows of two, so if they wished they could all sit and be involved in piloting the craft. But this would largely be unnecessary as the ship’s primary driver would be the automated controls it had originally been fitted with.

In the middle of the craft was a mess area with toilets, a machine that recycled water, and another that force-grew a protein-rich foodstuff that looked like tofu but was (as far as Iona could make out) made from something like plankton. The use of this should also be largely unnecessary, as the suspension system would keep them all alive without needing to eat for most of the journey to Earth.

“Just as well,” Iona said to Steve. “I couldn’t bear eating that stuff for decades on end.”

“Ugh, no,” Steve replied. They had both eaten a good deal of the protein while they were here. “It’s not the taste, is it—”