Free Still Falling: Book 1: Solstice 31 Saga by Martin Wilsey Page A

Why two overstuffed chairs?”
    “I hate sitting on the floor.” Em’s avatar sat in the farthest chair and drew her feet up under her.
    Barcus looked around everywhere now, even up to the rafters. “How the hell did you get it so clean?”
    “The suit has an onboard power washer. You know that. The tank is only 30 liters, but it made quick work of this space. It took longer to dry than to clean.”
    “Where did the furniture come from?” Barcus was amazed.
    “We collected it last night while you were sleeping. There is an estate not far to the southeast. The main manor building was destroyed, but a small servant cottage remained.”
    “Why didn't you tell me?”
    “And ruin my fun?”
    “We also found the closest midden.” A map of The Abbey appeared in a HUD window. It was a six-holer, just around the corner, off the kitchen pavilion. “There is also a chamber pot under that table in the bedroom.”
    “So now I have a pot to piss in and a window to throw it out of.” Barcus was thoughtful, a touch of sadness in his voice.
    “We found something else.” Em gestured to a small chest he had not seen before. She obviously wanted him to open it. He did.
    There were four more books in there.
    They were all leather bound like the beekeeping book. The first two he opened looked like Student textbooks. One was a text on remedial reading and the other grammar. The third looked like a reference on forging steel. The last was a small, beautifully hand-written book of poems.
    Looking up at Em, he could see she was still smiling.
    “Thank you, Em.” He paused. “For everything.”
    “We will watch for books wherever we go. I guess we should find a bookcase. What else?”
    “Blankets and sheets and towels and more clothes.” Barcus started ticking things off. “...and some boots for winter.” He looked at his shoes. They were his on-ship footwear, like climbing shoes. “And tools of all kinds. Rope. Nails...glasses, cups, and plates. Maybe a small desk.” Barcus was running out of steam.
    He sat at the table and looked at the clean surface and said, “Keyboard.” It was not part of the list, but a command word. A virtual keyboard appeared as a projection on the table. The standard 312 keys.
    His fingers flew over the keyboard. Anyone watching him might have thought he was just tapping the table rhythmically. He was doing research. He was studying the layout of The Abbey.
    After searching the archives for a few hours, he finally spoke.
    “Em, I think this Abbey may have been one of the original Redoubts from the first wave of the colonists. Tomorrow we will find out.”
    “I think you are right. The measurements and materials analysis support the idea.”
    “If so, this may tell something about whom we are dealing with.”
    Barcus blew out the candles and added a few more logs to the fires.
    “Em, add a pitcher and washbasin to the list.”
    Barcus completely undressed and climbed into the bed. The sheets were scratchy and coarse. But the bed was warm and dry and clean.
    Where the hell did she find pillows? He wondered.
    Barcus could not see the sky out the window, but he knew the moon was full because its light filled the courtyard. It was very much like the moon from back home, but maybe just a bit smaller. Like Earth’s moon, the same side always faced the planet. It looked like a face as well. A horrible, angry, disfigured face.
    A line of clouds had crossed over the moon before he fell asleep. By the time he heard the rain begin, he could barely see the window’s outline, it was so dark.
    Barcus woke up just after dawn the next morning. As he drank his instant coffee, he stepped outside the gatehouse door under the slate roof that covered the walkway. It was leaking badly. Looking back inside at the gatehouse’s vaulted stone ceiling, he saw no leaks there. A large amount of firewood was neatly stacked there, just below the window outside, under the eaves that covered the walkway.
    Walking