Time To Sleep
Rosie, 42nd of that name, tucked her toes neatly under the foothold and leaned into Mother's shoulder. "The hedge doesn't make any sense," she said, tracing the delicate hologram of Sleeping Beauty's castle with her finger. "It ought to be a dome if it's to keep people out, otherwise you can just push off the deck and float upwards until you're over it."
"It's magic," Mother replied, paging onward to Rosie's favourite part, with the needle prick and the sleep. "It works how the fairy thinks it should work."
Rosie smiled. "Time for me to sleep, soon," she said, her eyes lingering on the new image. She unhooked her toes and a small push sent her floating over to fetch the adapted tea press. "Will you be here when I wake, Mother?" she asked, handing it over.
"I will always be here."
"Even if I sleep for a hundred years?"
"Even if you sleep for a hundred years." Mother filled the tea press, and they both placed a finger on the rod, so like an old spindle, and pressed down together. Mother poured the tea through a tube into Rosie's drinking bulb.
Rosie took it in both hands. "To sweet dreams," she said, toasting for the last time. She pulled herself up and into her glass cold-sleep coffin and stretched out her hands for the needle prick. The last thing she remembered before her eyes closed was Mother kissing her goodnight.
The robot, Mother, closed the lid, slid the coffin into its place in the long line, and wrote another name on the list. Around her, the children slept forever, and the lost colony ship Briar Rose's Castle floated onward through endless space.