She sat and crossed her legs, thoughtful. She didn't feel quite as traumatized today. In fact, she felt angry, and she wanted to see the galley to confirm this all wasn't an elaborate hallucination. She tucked in her shirt in the way Evelyn had told her was customary. She liked the space clothing. It was comfortable, like wearing pajamas all day long. All she had to do was choose the color she wanted to wear-- black for the past several days in silent objection to her presence aboard the ship-- and the ship's computer wove it for her.
At least, that was her version. Romas had attempted once to explain the clothing was not woven aboard the ship but created on his home planet, molecularly broken into invisible pieces and stored somewhere aboard the ship.
She didn't understand. It was safer for her to imagine someone sitting just behind her wall weaving clothing and sending it to her or anyone else as they requested. It made the clothing unit much less intimidating than Romas's lecture on matter and antimatter and how to store the two successfully without blowing up something.
The parts of the room were well hidden. It had taken her two days to work up the courage to walk alone into what appeared to be the rear wall but was really a mirage disguising a grey bathroom with a clothing unit in the corner. She closed her eyes as she stepped into and through the wall and opened them after two steps. A waist-high bathtub and a round disc serving as an alien toilet, also waist-high, were on one wall. If she asked, a mirror would appear on the opposite wall.
"Teal," she said to the clothing unit.
There was no other purr aside from the constant, low hum similar to the hum surrounding electric wires. A flicker of light, and the clothing appeared on a slate grey slab serving as a bench near the door.
She changed into the comfortable clothing. She stood spread-eagle until it shrank to fit her, shuddered at the creepy sensation of life-like silk caressing her skin, and hurried out of the bathroom.
She held her forearm out to the door as she approached, glancing again at the gold band around her wrist that Romas had emphasized she needed to wear at all the times. For once, she hadn't corrected his English, only nodded once more and held out her arm for the bracelet. What had appeared to be a thick, gold, hard band of about three inches in width had molded around her arm and felt no heavier than the clothing she wore. It was flexible and moved with her when she tested it by flexing or releasing her forearm muscles.