(no subject)

As before, not all that long ago, Ray leads the way up to his room. The door opens to a room decorated in blue and brown and the occasional bit of silver. The carpet is dark blue, the bedspread a lighter one (it's a bed for two people, clearly); the desk is wooden and brown and stacked with papers. And there are the bookshelves- wire things, silver wire, stacked with reference volumes and the occasional novel and quite a few slim, very neat cases.

"That's the video disc collection over there," Ray says, pointing towards the cases. "The books are mostly reference works, not fiction. Those papers tacked to the wall over there are the blueprints and deck plans for a Firefly class interstellar freighter- I'm very proud of those. That's my crystal-growing rig in the corner, which I mostly use these days for turning silicates and water into synthetic opals for paying my Bar bill..."