The group quickly deposited their items into luxury rooms on the top floor and changed into swimsuits. Before even considering leaving his room, Gwyn eyed his arms and chest. He saw no signs of the rocky growth that marked his condition but did notice a couple of scars where the disease had been particularly strong. He rubbed his rough shoulder, then sat his pill case near the door so he wouldn’t forget it. It may turn ugly if he was neglectful.

  The real challenge came after—applying sunscreen with a bum arm. It was common for the earthling to find everyday mundanity, now some of the most challenging things, due to his left arm's condition. Yet, what option was there to find a way? He could perhaps ask Fiona to assist, but Gwyn was certain that would result in having a giant glob of sunscreen poured on him or some other idea of a prank as a form of assistance. The Nonpareil was fine on his own.

  Mem, who was useless for such things but always had to give its two cents, sat on the hotel bed and watched.

  “There’s a spot on your back you missed, no to your left. You’re other left.”

  “You aren’t helping!”

  “You aren’t doing a good job! You’re going to have the weirdest burn mark!”

  Gwyn quickly finished the rest of his work and let Mem jump onto his bum shoulder. The Needaimus slipped off right away, and tried to fake brush itself off while Gwyn laughed and held his right arm low. The second time Mem wrapped its tail tightly on the Nonpareil’s arm and with medicine case in hand, Gwyn went out to meet the others waiting in the lobby.

  When the Nonpareil poked his head into the area, he didn’t see anyone waiting yet.

  “What are you doing?” Mem whispered, seemingly reading his intent.

  “Checking for the others, it looks like we have time.”

  “Time?”

  Gwyn’s eyes followed along the path of the lobby to a far corner where a door was marked with a multi language sign. Of what Gwyn could read, museum was laid out clearly. The earthling also took note of some characters that resembled Chinese, but seemed off as if it was a derivation of the original language. He grew more intrigued. Taking one last look across the lobby, and seeing no one he recognized, the earthling power walked across and into his target.

  The smell of history was the first thing that hit him, or, more accurately, dusty old armor and clothes that looked more at home in Feudal Japan than Resh. The room itself appeared to be a circle with a large center set up blocking the other side. One could make a lap around and see everything if there wasn’t another door to somewhere else just out of sight. A small pop-up board promised that ‘the famous Needaimus of Atsuko’ was inside as well, but that was the least interesting thing offered. Gwyn leaned close so he could read the armor’s plaque in the low light.

  “The armor Atsuko wore when arriving. Huh?”

  “Partner, is this really where you wanted to go?” Mem’s mechanical voice didn’t mask the disappointment the Needaimus had with him.

  “Of course!”

  Gwyn was admittedly excited to learn about some interesting history, but foremost, he had one question that needed answering. Did they ever find a way back? Given the state of the resort and the fact that the museum was here, he worried he already knew the answer, but he ignored the gnawing thoughts at the back of his mind to admire some art that he supposed Atsuko painted when on Resh. They resembled paintings of the time on earth, but with a flair to style that was foreign. Gwyn wasn’t sure if that foreign element was from Resh or somewhere else. He leaned in close to see the name of one with a cherry blossom tree as large as a skyscraper. Atsuko’s Memories of Bikiyo, painted just before her death, was printed below.

  The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  “So, you thought about home too, then?” Gwyn muttered. He clenched his good hand into a fist and stared at his feet. It wasn’t complete confirmation, but it was close enough. He began to slide over to the next display and jammed his shoulder into someone else’s.

  “Oh, sorry,” he spoke in unison with the other person before looking up to meet her eyes. Hal’s elder sister stood before him, even without having gotten a good look at her while at the dock, her face had a similar, albeit softer, structure to the grumpy soldier. She fiddled with the tip of her emerald hair that hung by her shoulder, and her matching eyes grew wide.

  “Oh, uh, hi Mr. I mean, I…. My name’s Haliegh. Nice to meet you. Nice to meet you?”

  “Hal’s sister?” Gwyn asked, though he wasn’t sure why since he already knew. The earthling wondered if he was simply looking to help recover after the rocky start to the conversation.

  “Oh, you must not have noticed me at the dock,” her shoulders slumped a little before perking back up, “yes, Hal is my elder twin, actually! You can tell I got all the looks…. I mean, not that I’m so vain to think I’m gorgeous or anything…. Just compared to him, you know?”

  Mem chuckled from atop Gwyn’s shoulder.

  “She’s like the complete opposite of Hal,” the Needaimus said, “got all the charm too, I’d say.” Gwyn agreed with the metal creature, but decided it was best to keep that to himself.

  “Oh, is this the Needaimus that talks!” Haliegh leaned close to see Mem, before her face turned red and she backed up. “Sorry, I wasn’t trying to invade your personal space or anything!” The girl pressed a hand to her chest and took a deep breath. “Anyway, what brings you around here? Just trying to kill time?”

  “I was interested in the history of this place.”

  “He’s got a bit of a thing for museums, I feel sorry for any future girlfriends,” Mem added.

  “I can knock you off, you know.”

  “Then I shall fall with grace!”

  Haliegh giggled at the duo before gasping and covering her mouth.

  “I’m sorry… I wasn’t laughing at you… or well…. Anyway, I can’t believe you were interested, I was too! I am actually a huge history buff myself!”

  Gwyn felt his spirits rise with the corners of his mouth.

  “Really? What got you interested?” Gwyn asked. The green-haired girl lit up with the question, and any awkwardness in her posture seemed to straighten out.

  “Oh, it was such a long time ago, but I remember like yesterday. My school was on a field trip to the Roanoke museum, and I was fascinated with all the records from when our people first arrived, to… well, everything that came after. Get this, before they were transferred here, our people had already sailed across a large sea to a new land! Oh, the records of people writing about the old world were so fun to read. And… oh,” Haliegh put both hands over her mouth before saying in a lower volume, “I’m talking too much, aren’t I?”

  “Not at all!” Gwyn replied. “I would love to see this museum and all these records. It sounds fascinating.”

  “It really is! How did you get interested in history, by the way? Is it common back on the homeworld?”

  “Not really,” Gwyn laughed as he rubbed the back of his head. "Most kids hate it in school, as far as I recall, but my dad's a historian, and it just rubbed off, I guess.”

  “It sounds like you have a wonderful father!” The girl’s eyes looked as if they might sparkle like actual emeralds.

  “Yeah… he’s a good guy….”

  The conversation was replaced with silence, and Haliegh’s green eyes began to dart around frantically as if she were looking for something to latch onto. She never got to say anything else, as a hand tightly locked around Gwyn’s shoulder from behind. The Nonpareil jumped and spun around to see Hal, looking out for blood with possible murder on his mind.

  “A word,” Hal said to Gwyn before giving Haliegh a look. She sighed and waved her hand dismissively at her brother.

  “By, uh, can I call you something other than Nonpareil?” Gwyn took notice of how full her eyelashes seemed as she blinked a couple of times and made a soft smile.

  “Please call me Gwyn.”

  “Alright, I’ll see you later, Gwyn?.”

  Haliegh shuffled out of the museum. From what the earthling could make out, she immediately began to talk with someone outside the door. The others were likely beginning to meet up. He sighed and turned to the green-haired soldier, who stood a head shorter than him but made up for it in sheer moxy.

  “You do anything to my sister, even look at her funny, and I’ll kill you,” Hal muttered.

  “It’s nice to see you too, buddy,” Gwyn groaned in reply. How could two siblings be so different? “Anyway, we need to go meet up with everyone.” The Nonpareil, not wanting to keep the conversation—if it was anything of the sort—going turned and walked out the door before Hal could reply.