Chapter Text
It was best, they decided, to give Artie some space before getting H.G. set up at Leena's, so they printed a copy of the Manual for her to read in the meantime.
"You know," Myka said, "I bet you could get Artie to like you if you read this out loud to Pete."
"Fat chance," Pete replied.
"He's been here for how long and he still hasn't read it?" H.G. asked, before Myka could retort. "And he hasn't been killed yet? Or worse, gotten you killed?"
"Well, I did die that one time," Pete said. "I got better." H.G. wondered whether he was quoting someone or just mocking her accent, but Pete continued before she could ask. "Which reminds me. Someone's gonna have to teach you CPR if you're gonna be working here."
H.G. looked confused. Though she'd learned a lot in the few weeks since rejoining the world of the un-bronzed, this was obviously new to her.
"Cardiopulmonary ressuscitation," Myka explained. "It's a first aid technique that combines chest compressions and rescue breathing. It doesn't always work, but Pete's right. Around here you need to know it."
"And I vote for you to teach her," Pete said to Myka.
"Pig," Myka replied, sticking her tongue out.
"Oh, look, the printer is finished," H.G. said, perhaps a little too loudly. "Fifteen hundred and thirty-six pages in twenty-two and a half minutes. How is that even possible on this machine? I've... I've printed things out before, on computers, and they couldn't do this."
"Claudia was sick of this thing only doing a page a minute, so she fixed it up. And when Claudia fixes something around here, you don't ask how she did it."
H.G. smiled, the first real time she had done so since Artie refused to shake her hand. "I knew I liked her."
"So," Myka said, "you've got to be pretty tired. Let's get you set up at Leena's."
---
"I'm surprised Artie is allowing this," Leena said as she made the bed in the fourth room.
"Technically, he isn't," Pete replied.
Leena's face froze for half a second. "Oh. Oh. Well, he'll come around eventually."
"Artie hates everybody at first," Claudia said. "I kidnapped him last year and he forgave me. Of course, he left me handcuffed to a stranger's oven, but he forgave me."
H.G. made another face at that, but decided to say nothing.
"Anyway, the bathroom's the second door on the left as you leave the room. The green towels are for you to use. Just let me know if you need anything. If it's in the fridge or the pantry and it doesn't have somebody's name on it, feel free to eat it."
"Thank you for -- for your hospitality," H.G. said. "Thank you for everything."
If anyone noticed that H.G. had meant that last sentence for Myka, they had the grace not to say anything about it.
The five of them stayed and talked for a few minutes, until one by one they started to make their exits. Eventually, Myka and H.G. were left together for the first time since the bottling plant.
"So," Myka said. "I, uh -- I have something to lend you. It's in my room."
H.G. blinked, nodded and followed Myka as she left.
Myka's room felt more like home than anywhere H.G. had been since being turned to bronze. It was full of books and blankets and a cage with-- "Is that a ferret?"
"Yeah. I got him from a wishing kettle my first day here. His name is Pete."
"I can see why," H.G. laughed.
"Anyway," Myka said, turning to the bookshelf. "I want you to know you can read any of these whenever you want."
H.G. stepped closer to inspect the shelf. Most of the books looked old; most of them were hardcover. She was pleasantly surprised to recognize many of the authors' names. And there was half a shelf full of her own books.
"You certainly have a lot of my work," she said.
"You were an excellent writer. Are. You are an excellent writer. My dad would read to me from The Time Machine when I was a kid." She looked at H.G. in time to be warmed by her smile. "But really, I wanted to give you this." Myka bent down to one of her nonfiction shelves, pulled out a large softcover book, and handed it to H.G.
"The Twentieth Century in Twenty Minutes?"
"I figured it might help you catch up on things."
H.G. placed her free hand on Myka's shoulder and looked into her eyes. "Thank you," she said, and Myka knew that it was the most sincere thing H.G. had ever said to her. "And you can call me Helena if you want to." And then her lips were on Myka's cheek, just for a second, and before Myka could process what had just happened, she was gone.