Page 112 of As You Wake, Break the Shell

“How do you know?”

“Because I asked him and he said no. He says it’s nothing, but—”

“But it is,” Signy said, frowning at the man in question as he headed for the kitchen, waving Cora to follow. “Has he talked to Arlo about it?” Insomnia was the sort of thing a comfort care nurse could handle legally, after all. She might not need to step in.

Darcy shrugged. “I have no idea,” he said. “You know how he is.”

Signy did indeed know that her first customer was her most difficult one, but that was not her primary concern at the moment. Cora had disappeared around the kitchen doorway, out of Signy’s sight. “I do,” she said. “I’ll see if I can”—a blast of music issued forth from the speakers; Sam had found a concert she liked—“I’ll sort him out, don’t worry.”

Signy managed three whole steps toward the kitchen before Ramona intercepted her. “And for you—” Ramona said, taking Signy’s hands.

Signy shut her eyes. “Ramona—”

A blue dog was placed into Signy’s palm. “For protection,” Ramona said.

“Why do I need protection?” Signy asked.

The stubby grandmother shook her head disapprovingly. “There’s a new lady on the third floor, and I don’t like her.”

“Why? What’d she do?”

“She’s bad news. She’s got an OCTA flag on her door.” Ramona gestured broadly through the air as though she were tracing a line around a person. “Her whole energy’s off.”

“Well—” Signy glanced toward the kitchen. “Uh, thank you, Ramona, I’ll keep an eye out.” Thoroughly unfussed about the new resident, her political leanings, and the state of her energy, Signy left the conversation and went to save her girlfriend.

Except her girlfriend didn’t need saving, because of course she didn’t. Cora and Otto were standing by the stove, chatting as though they’d known each other for years. Signy leaned against the doorjamb and watched. She just watched.

“So what are we having?” Cora asked, examining the pots, the bowls, the chopping board.

“Mushroom lasagna,” Otto said. “How does that suit?”

“Oh, I love mushrooms,” Cora said. “That sounds great.”

“Do you like to cook?”

“No. Or, well . . . I don’t know. I never really learned how.”

“Would you like to?” Otto handed her a kitchen knife before he received an answer. “I’ve got a heap of fresh basil that needs you.”

Signy blinked, both amused and bemused. He never wanted her help in the kitchen.

“Oh, uh—” Cora looked at the knife, unsure. “Probably best that I don’t. I’ll just fuck it up—or, sorry, I mean—”

Otto gave her a look. “Honey, if you think this is a home where you can’t cuss, I don’t know where you think you are. Can you chop things?”

“Uh, yes, probably.”

Otto opened a drawer. “Can you follow instructions?”

Cora gave him a sharp nod. “Yes, sir.”

He tossed her a clean apron. “You can cook.”

Chapter 788 Cora, Lodestone

A lot of stuff in the Primer hadn’t been possible to implement on Fortune. Lumber. Trains. Fossil fuels. Chicken eggs. Satellite internet. There was likewise a lot of stuff the Ring either hadn’t cracked, hadn’t started on, or just couldn’t do (fossil fuels, again). But the cool thing about Lodestone and some of its neighboring moonlets was that the stuff they were made out of could be ground up into a really good growing substrate. All you had to do was add in some compost, some printed soil bacteria, and some raw kincrete to give it a jump start. Everybody called the end result dirt. It wasn’t real dirt, but it also wasn’t not dirt, and regardless of how you sliced it, “dirt” had opened up a world of possibilities. You could do real root vegetables, instead of vat-grown spuds cultured in round molds. You could do fruit trees and nut trees, provided they weren’t too big. Cora never stopped being thrilled by coming home with a sack of apples or potatoes that were all different sizes, and she was stoked to try the crops still being experimented with in the community farm. The olive trees were taking their sweet time, and nobody had gotten figs working yet, but everything thus far had been well worth the wait, and besides, Cora wasn’t planning on going anywhere anytime soon.

For now, the surprise of the day was squash.