[Val]

Mavis met us in the tavern. Cassy, Kate, and I had already exchanged greetings. Immediately, I noticed the personality contrast, Cassy a timid introvert and Kate an outgoing extrovert, but both friendly.

Kate wrinkled her brow as she pointed at a scrolling news feed. "Looks like Earth is spinning down the toilet. Let's see... Famine, riots, anarchists, religious nuts, corruption — and that's just the last few blurbs."

"Mars has its problems, too," I added. "Especially with the Mars Dawn separatists."

"Phfft, wouldn't worry about none of them. The good part about living on the Phobos Transit Station is that those problems will never come here." Mavis said with a dismissive gesture as she led us into the quilting room. "Let me introduce you to the gals."

The back room off the tavern seating area was large by space station standards where interior volume was limited, yet still crowded. Transparent plastic tubs overfilled with sorted fabric scraps lined the back wall on plastic mesh shelves, creating a multi-color collage. Three fabric seam welders sat on tables along another wall, a modern upgrade to the old needle and thread sewing machines. A diverse group of women crowded around an unfinished quilt wound like a scroll and stretched tight on a large quilting frame, wielding threaded needles that dove through the fabric like dolphins in the surf, thus bonding a colorful top layer to inner batting and a plain black bottom layer.

"That's beautiful," I muttered, admiring the patterns. Offset strips of reds, whites, and blacks arranged in cascading waves created an illusion of depth and movement.

"Thank you," one woman responded with a bright smile.

"So, Ma," a dark-haired woman said, pausing her motion. "Did you bring us some fresh meat?"

"Be nice, Mona," another replied. "We don't want to run them off."

"Ladies, this is Val, Cassy, and Kate," Mavis said, pointing to each of us.

"Hiiii," the quilters responded in sing-song unison.

I had seen these women before, but didn't know them well.

Mavis touched the shoulder of the gray-haired woman. Slightly plump with laugh lines radiating from her blue eyes, she looked like someone's favorite grandmother. "This is Greta, who runs the Child Development Center and treats everyone like children."

"Well, most adults around here are like big babies," Greta countered.

Moving around the table, Mavis came to a woman with dark hair cut in a short bob. She had a rounded reddish-brown face with almond-shaped dark eyes. "This is Mona. She's a medical technician at the clinic and fixes our needle wounds."

Mona held up calloused fingers and remarked, "You would be surprised how much we bleed. Every quilt has our DNA signature."

Next came a younger woman, maybe as young as Cassy. Dark-skinned with shoulder-length wavy black hair, she had a lean, muscular frame, much like Kate. "This is Shera, who works in security. So if you need someone roughed up, talk to her."

Shera rolled her eyes. "It doesn't work that way, Ma."

The last woman had a squared light face with a prominent jaw and short chopped blond hair. I had worked with her a time or two.

"This is Harley," said Mavis with a smirk. "She is a maintenance mechanic and our resident dyke."

My jaw dropped, and I nearly gasped. Had she just said...

But Harley just took it in stride and grinned. "Damn right. I own it."

At once, I found new respect for Harley admired the openness about her sexuality — unlike me, who hides it as if shameful.

Over the last century, as humanity spiraled slowly toward chaos, fundamental religions rose again to prominence, and with it, the old bias against homosexuality. Now, I believed in a loving God and religion provided comfort during trying times, but so many denominations got this wrong. They took judgment into their own hands like modern day Pharisees, violating their own tenants of neighborly love. The worst were the Watchers, a growing group who, if they had their way, would have everyone under puritanical theocracy.

Mavis took me from my thoughts as she explained. "There are three rules here. No judgment. Anything said here, stays here. And we do the final quilting by hand. Oh, and have fun."

"That's four," piped up Mona with a smirk.

"So, sue me."

Mona motioned us to the table. "Take a seat and we'll show you how it's done. We're going to auction this quilt off for charity."

I squeezed in next to Mona on the padded bench and took a threaded needle. She said, "We each cut and piece together our own quilt tops, but the actual quilting we do together by hand, old school like. We're using a wave pattern on this one."

It quickly became apparent that not all of us would fit around the quilt frame and that so many poking needles might become dangerous. Two of the women relinquished their space and pulled up folding chairs behind.

My eyes wandered across the quilt. The stitches created parallel wave-like patterns, as the name implied.

"Here, take a thimble," Mona advised, "or your fingers will suffer." She demonstrated how to stitch, which I picked up fairly quickly, but I was nowhere near as efficient as the experienced quilters. "Tell us about yourself, Val."

I paused, considering how much I should reveal. "Well, I was a station operations engineer. I worked with Harley a few times on maintenance projects, but... I recently lost my job."

"Oh?" Mona raised an eyebrow.

"Poor performance, my boss said, but I have it on good authority that Brennan Kurst had me fired."

"That prick of a station director," Harley hissed. "I'd like to stitch his ditch."

"Huh?"

"That's where you quilt down block seam lines," Mona explained, then grinned, "With a sharp needle..."

"Oh," I replied, grinning in return. "That might be fun."

"Why the hell does Brennan have it in for you?" Harley asked.

"We don't pry, Harley," Mavis reprimanded with narrowed eyes. "Val, you don't have to answer that."

I sucked in a breath and held it. This became a decision point for a secret revealed or withheld. All motion stopped, and all eyes turned to me, but they projected compassion with no sign of malice. Somehow, I felt safe here.

"Val?" Mavis said quietly.

I chose my path. "It's okay. I'm so tired of holding this inside. I... I had a fling with Zoe, Brennan's wife. They were separated then, but still married, so I knew it was wrong. He found out." The walls closed in as my eyes turned toward Harley, whose gaze offered nothing but kind support. "I haven't told anyone this — I'm lesbian."

Harley reached across and put her hand on mine. "No shame in that."

"I came from a religious family, and they don't know, but I think my mother suspects." I wiped moisture from my eyes. "They might not take it well."

"Coming out can be difficult — I know this — and I can't tell you what to do." Harley said with a gentle voice. "You do what is best for you." She glanced around the room. "But we are here for you." The others nodded in agreement.

Shaking my head, I said, "I'm not sure how long I can stay here, anyway. They will eventually kick me out." On the Phobos Transit Space Station, living quarters came with the presumption of useful employment.

Mavis said, "We'll help you figure something out. That's what we do." Sensing my dwindling emotional resolve, she turned to Cassy. "Tell us about yourself, dear."

Cassy looked down. "I'm unemployed too — already been kicked out of my cabin — and if I don't find something in two days, I will time-out from the hostel. You've probably heard what I did?"

"You blocked Khlo's asteroid mining claim?" Greta said, sitting next to Cassy.

"Yeah. I'm a bio-inspector, or I was, and found suspicious microbes on the asteroid. Now I'm blackballed and can't get a job anywhere."

Harley huffed. "Bet that pissed off the vain witch."

"Harley, hun..." Mavis cautioned.

"What?"

Cassy nodded. "She was livid. I locked myself in my quarters the whole way back on the Erobus."

"You did the right thing, Cassy," Greta said.

"I'm not so sure." Cassy gazed into my eyes and I did my best to offer courage. "In grad school, there was an incident. Most exo-microbes are harmless, but this one wasn't. It killed two people and almost started a pandemic. It wasn't my fault, but I blamed myself for not speaking out. So, maybe I was too cautious..."

Greta squeezed Cassy's hand. "You did what you thought was best. No one can ask more."

Kate leaned forward and interlaced her fingers on the table. "I might help with your employment issue. You too, Val. Because of all the Earth issues, the Ark Hope diverted to this station, and we can't find enough workers for the turnaround. Only a half-year gig, though. Interested?"

The shadows that engulfed my heart suddenly lifted. Cassy and I responded simultaneously with enthusiasm. "Yes!"

"Okay." Kate grinned. "I have an in with the captain." Her grin faded. "Or at least, used to."

Harley shook her head. "I can't believe you left Paradise to come back here."

Mavis face-palmed. "Harley, remember the rule about no judgment?"

Kate continued, "Yeah, Tau Ceti Four is paradise, but I fell for the ark captain and came back with him. It was real good for a while, but then came his duty and ignored me. I got pissed off and did something stupid." She blew out a breath. "The journey takes twelve Earth years, ship time. Everyone goes into stasis, except there were always two awake to monitor the ship on six-month stints. Well, I, umm, did something improper with my partner during my shift and John found out."

"Do you want to get back together?" Shera asked.

"Yeah. I miss him." Kate clamped her eyes closed. "But it may be too late."

"All you can do is ask forgiveness. The worst that can happen is things stay the same."

"I suppose."

After a few moments of awkward silence, Greta spoke up. "Well, we didn't get much quilting done this evening."

Shera's lips turned up. "Like Ma says, it ain't about the quilting."