Buck Rogers folded the plans beneath one arm and waited as Samuel Yoder and Galileo Maestro climbed the gentle rise toward the newest section of the settlement.
"You've been busy," Samuel observed.
Buck grinned.
"I've been trying to stay one chapter ahead of the visitors."
Galileo laughed.
"A wise precaution."
The three men followed a broad crushed limestone path bordered by young maple trees. Ahead, twelve white cottages stood in a wide semicircle overlooking the valley.
Beyond them, only a short walk away, rose the great circular foundation where the Planetary Roundtable would soon begin to take shape.
Buck stopped.
"I wanted every visitor to wake up and see exactly what they're coming to trade with."
Samuel slowly turned.
The view stretched across orchards, wheat fields, dairy barns, the creamery, flour mill, bakery, glassworks, blacksmith shop, sawmill, and hundreds of acres of tomatoes shimmering in the morning breeze.
Galileo smiled.
"I'd stay here myself."
Buck laughed.
"You'll have to make reservations."
They approached the first cottage.
A hand-carved wooden sign hung beside the porch.
White Oak Cottage
Samuel ran his hand across the polished lettering.
"No numbers?"
Buck shook his head.
"Guests ought to remember a place, not a number."
Galileo nodded.
"A name welcomes."
Buck opened the front door.
Morning light poured through large windows.
"The glassworks made every pane."
Inside stood a hand-built oak table, four chairs, a woven rug, rocking chairs beside a stone fireplace, and handmade cabinets crafted by the furniture apprentices.
Rebecca had already filled a basket with fresh bread, butter, apple preserves, cheese, and a crock of honey.
Samuel chuckled.
"I should have guessed she'd think of that."
Buck opened another door.
"The bathroom."
Samuel looked inside.
A polished washstand supported a porcelain basin beneath a framed mirror.
Fresh towels hung neatly from wooden pegs.
Bars of homemade soap rested on a small shelf.
Galileo smiled.
"Simple."
"Everything works without electricity," Buck replied.
He pointed upward.
Outside the bathroom window stood a tall wooden tower supporting a large water tank.
"A windmill fills the tank from the artesian spring. Gravity provides the pressure."
Samuel opened the shower valve.
A steady stream of water splashed into the stone shower basin.
He laughed.
"I've stayed in hotels that didn't work this well."
Buck opened a small wooden cabinet beside the toilet.
Inside rested a glazed clay vessel.
"When full," Buck explained, "it's exchanged for a clean one. The contents are carried to the settlement's managed composting grounds well away from the homes and water supply, where nature quietly finishes its work."
Galileo nodded approvingly.
"Nothing wasted."
Samuel smiled.
"Just as the Earth intended."
They continued along the winding path.
Each cottage bore its own carved sign.
Apple Orchard Cottage.
Maple Cottage.
Spring House.
Clover Cottage.
Sunrise Cottage.
White Oak Cottage.
Meadow View.
Mill Creek Cottage.
Orchard Gate.
Lantern House.
Wildflower Cottage.
Stone Bridge Cottage.
Every porch faced the valley.
Every garden bloomed with flowers.
Every walkway eventually led toward the Planetary Roundtable.
Samuel noticed the pattern immediately.
"You planned it this way."
Buck nodded.
"No guest has to ask for directions."
Galileo laughed.
"All roads lead to the Roundtable."
They reached the center of the Visitor Village.
Buck unfolded one last drawing.
"This isn't just lodging."
Samuel studied the plans.
"What is it?"
Buck looked around at the cottages.
"It's the first neighborhood on Earth built specifically for people who weren't born here."
The three men stood quietly.
Beyond them, the settlement hummed with the ordinary sounds of work.
Ahead, the Planetary Roundtable waited.
Samuel smiled.
"We're not just building a marketplace anymore."
Galileo looked toward the valley.
"We're building a place where strangers become neighbors."
Buck carefully rolled up the plans.
"And I think," he said with quiet satisfaction,
"they're going to feel right at home."