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.
