"My mom did that, too," Adia says with a laugh. "She was always telling me to pull it back out of my face, that it would get tangled otherwise." It was annoying at the time, but the fact that she shares that in common with Amelia turns the memory sweet.

She picks up her brush and runs is through her hair. Having it been under a hat for part of the day has made it a little staticky, but it's manageable otherwise.

"There's insulation behind the wood panels," Caspar explains. Then he falls silent, his expression turning a bit confused. Renaissance Europe? Adia is the "expert" on Earth history, not him. But more detail is forthcoming, so he doesn't bother asking anything.

At least until she mentions the meteorite.

"Was that commonplace on your world? Meteorites large enough to smelt?" That's kind of cool, actually. Space rock weapons.