She exhaled loudly. “No idea, Houston. But I can assure you Thrym would know.” Romy waved a scalpel in the air. “Can’t you talk to Atlas?”

Houston returned to the tapping on his screen. “I have.”

Romy sat up. “And?”

“And the answer was no.”

Her eyebrows drew together. “You explained that I’m hopeless with all of this?”

“I believe I used the word ‘clueless’.”

She gave him a wry smile. “Thanks.”

Houston stood and stretched back, his dirty lab coat falling open to reveal a stethoscope and medi-scanner stuffed in his pockets. “Maybe Atlas just likes having you around.”

Atlas hadn’t spoken a single word to her in the last few days. The only times they’d had any interaction was when he left his office. He would glance into Houston’s room and nod to her on his way to Tina’s office. There were no “hellos”, not even a “how are you fitting in on this foreign world?”.

“I doubt that,” Romy said.

Romy wasn’t sure what to think of Tina, the Earth woman who’d shown the knot around the camp. Unlike many of the settlement women who wore comfortable work clothing, Tina wore camo fatigues like the soldiers. The small woman walked as though she could take on any of the soldiers in the camp. Overall, Romy wanted to respect her.

But something held her back.

And it had to do with the way Tina draped herself all over Atlas. Somehow it made her angry at Atlas, instead of Tina. And that didn’t seem fair.

“Doctor H?” a boy panted from the doorway. He held a floppy hat in one hand. “You’re needed in the gardens. Martha’s collapsed.”

Romy watched as Houston snapped closed the clasp of his bag and swept out of the room.

Romy had gone with him on the first few occasions, after which Houston had kindly hinted that Romy might wish to remain behind. She huffed; it wasn’t like she meant to black out. It had turned out she didn’t like blood too much. They were space soldiers. Romy shot poachers from hundreds of metres away—and their blood was yellow.

She wouldn’t mind shooting some poachers right about now.

Footsteps in the semi-circle entranceway had her looking up. Atlas. Returning to his room. Probably from Tina’s, she thought darkly.

Romy’s feet moved of their own accord. “Atlas,” she called.

Atlas glanced over his shoulder, one hand on the door, the other on the frame halfway into his office. Romy knew what happened once he entered. The door slammed shut, and no one went in. Ever.

Grey eyes met her blue ones. “Rosemary. What do you need?” He reached up a hand and clicked the gadget in his ear.

She looked at the device curiously.

“Transmission device.” He answered her unspoken question.