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He kisses her. "I love you."

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"I love you too."

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He squeezes her hand.

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"I'll catch up on the language and we'll work out some way to support ourselves - or whatever the equivalent is in such a Friendly place - and we'll find out what priv tastes like."

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"Yes," says Lalita. "I like this plan."

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"Better than spending the rest of my life on Niamh 6, certainly. Which I expected I was signing up for, when I started working on stealing fire." Her thumb makes little circles on the back of his hand. "I suppose you'll tell me you don't mind being dragged - well, having dragged yourself - in after me."

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"Of course I don't mind." He kisses her forehead. "I love you."

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"I love you too."

And here is the neighborhood near the field of priv. Twirl-horned heads peep out at them from windows; the dwellings are set into hillsides and the path is cut into the clefts between them, and plants, some plausibly edible, grow on the roofs.

Viv finds them first. "Hello again, sky people!"
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"Hello again, Viv!" says Lalita.

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"Daddy is making sure no one minds if you live in the empty house. Do you want to live in the empty house?"

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"Good question!" He switches languages. "Do we want to live in the empty house, darling?"

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"Probably, but perhaps we could see it?"

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He repeats this answer to Viv.

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"No one will mind if you look at it. Probably no one will mind if you live there, either, but it was worth checking," says Viv. "It's over here. It's three houses from mine." Clop-clop-clop.

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"Okay!" says Lalita. "Let's see the empty house."

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Here is the empty house!

It is empty. It has no running water per se - Isabella asks about that, in halting Davlian, and Viv scoffs and says water running like that inside a house would be gross, what if it got everywhere? It is plumbed, in the Davlian fashion - there's a high-tech aqueduct running through the neigborhood, which keeps a little self-cleaning pool in each house full and level. And there is a nesty sort of bed cut into the floor so the top of the feather-filled mattress is level with the walking surface, though otherwise there's not a stick of furniture.
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It has a roof and a bed. That's good enough for Lalita.

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"If it's going spare I could see sleeping here, although I'm envisioning slipping off to the ship for the occasional proper shower, or to cook things," says Isabella, noting the absence of a room architecturally designated a kitchen on the grounds that Davlians eat everything raw.

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Lalita shrugs. "That'd be nice, sure."

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"What's she saying?" asks Viv.

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"That it would be nice to live here, but we might go back to our ship sometimes because it has things we're used to."

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"What kind of sky people things do you have in there?" asks Viv, stotting.

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"Chairs."

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"Oh! Because your legs bend funny, so they aren't just for when you have to do stuff with your feet," nods Viv.

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"Something like that," he says.

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