Free Silo 49: Deep Dark by Ann Christy Page A

stairs that she wore coveralls. When she got older and us kids grew up and moved out, she went back to work . That is why you saw her in coveralls all the time."
    Grandy was what Marina and the other orphans, and eventually their children, had called the woman who raised them. Sela had especially admired her and spent weeks in her company when she was little, learning how to draw and dance and play all the games that Grandy had taught her mother. If Grandy had worn paper wrappings and liked it, Sela would probably think it must be good to wear them too.
    Sela turned away to consider the tunic again, then she snatched it up as if she might change her mind if she didn't hurry and thrust it at her mother. "Okay. I will, but if anyone laughs at me I'm coming straight back here and changing. Deal?"
    Marina took the cloth solemnly and agreed, "Deal."
    By the time Marina left the bathroom wrapped in a soft towel and carrying a much less wrinkled garment, Joseph and Sela were playing cards. It was apparently a fierce competition with much slapping of cards on the table required for participation. Sela hopped up, loudly victorious, and examined the tunic even as her mother laid it out on the bed.
    Marina would also be wearing something other than coveralls this evening, the first time she had done so in front of strangers for many a year. She would never have admitted it, but she was quite nervous about it too. It was expected when dining in the Wardroom, though. She figured she would survive the ordeal.
    It wasn't as if wearing clothing other than coveralls weren’t allowed or anything. In many cases, such as this one, it was expected or even required. After all, they had about half an entire level dedicated to the manufacture and sale of fabrics and things made of fabric. Of that, only a portion was related to coveralls or patches for coveralls.
    I n the case of the Wardroom, very long tradition held that one did not eat there in coveralls unless one was a resident of the Wardroom residences and actually on duty. No one knew why but there it was.
    By the time all three of the family members were ready to leave, Marina felt a bit like she was walking out of the door in her underwear. She had to work to restrain herself from crossing her arms in front of her chest. That would have probably sent Sela running back for the door.
    Of the three, only Joseph seemed at ease. He wore a pair of blue pants just a few shades darker than the paint used to mark pipes for potable water. His tunic was longer than Marina's, ending just above the knee and dyed a yellow almost as pale as the spare blanket in their hotel room. It was decorated with a line of spots of many colors, all of them blurred at the edges like someone had shaken wet hands covered in many different dyes at the yellow cloth and then liked the effect. Perhaps that is what happened. Whatever the case, it was a bold pattern and Marina liked it a great deal. It made his brown eyes and the slight curl in his short, dark hair somehow more handsome. The easy expression on his face made her want to reach out and touch him possessively.
    What Sela and Marina wore was similar in concept to Joseph's but Marina marveled at how different the final effect was. Both of their tunics stopped at mid-thigh and were slightly longer in back than in front. The sleeves were long, just as his were, but rather than being straight and ending without flourish, theirs ended wider and again longer in back than in front. They would need to be careful when eating or both would wind up dragging those sleeves through their meals.
    In front, the neckline was squared rather than cut into the standard V-neck that Joseph wore. That square also dipped a bit lower than a coverall and Marina felt uncomfortable knowing the ridges of her clavicles were out for all to see. She felt even more uncomfortable knowing Sela's clavicles were displayed.
    The pants were somewhat safe, at least. Cut more trimly than the loose comfort