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my things? This was my room. I worked for it and earned it, and the throbbing in my thigh was proof.
    Before I could say anything, he straightened and turned back to me. "The next time we show up in port, you're coming with me. We are going to get you dressed properly."
    My eyes widened. "No, sir, please. I'm just fine the way I am."
    "Simmons, don't backtalk me, dammit." Captain Hawk-eyes was back, and I could tell from the way his gaze bore into me that there would be no getting out of it.
    After a moment, m y shoulders slumped and his gaze softened. "This is for your own good, Simmons. You're a good translator, and no matter where you came from or what happened before you got on my ship, this is your home now. You need to have decent clothing." He looked around again at the empty shelves and added, "And something to do in your free time. I'll escort you off the ship and make sure nothing happens to you in port."
    "Yes, sir," I muttered, looking at my hands.
    Then he slapped his hand on his thigh and I looked up. His eyes gleamed. "Now that that's settled, let's try to find you something to do for the next three days."
    Before I knew it, he had picked me up , put me back in the chair and we were leaving my quarters. Instead of walking down the hall, however, he turned to the door of his own room.
    I held my breath. I was actually going into the captain's domain.
     
    The captain's room was twice the size of my own. I thought it also must have another adjoining room, because there was a door in the far corner and I couldn't see a bed anywhere. He also had several bookcases, which were filled with books and strange devices that I didn't recognize.
    He deposited me smoothly on his sofa. "So, what do you like to do in your free time?"
    "I like to study languages, sir," I answered truthfully, then added, "and history."
    "Do you know anything about movies?"
    "No, sir. I have heard of them, but I have never seen one. My parents had a viewer where I could watch recordings of people they talked to on their projects, but I've never seen an actual movie."
    "Really?" He seemed excited. "My collection is quite old, but I have hundreds of movies here ." He held up a small black drive. "You can watch them with this viewer," he added, placing the viewer on my lap.
    "What is that, sir?" I asked, pointing to a glowing cube.
    His face lost its happy expression and he shrugged. "It's nothing, Simmons, I just like the way it glows." Then he picked me up and took me back to my room.
     
    I enjoyed watching the movies over the next two weeks. Some were funny, some were scary, but my favorite movies were romantic, although I could never admit that to the captain. Maybe it was because they were so different than anything I had ever seen before.
    I enjoyed watching the people meet and fal l in love in all sorts of ways, and I especially loved the happy endings. But always in the back of my mind was the knowledge that it would probably never happen to me.
    The captain , for all his gruffness, was a dedicated caregiver. He wheeled me to the medical bay for the first few days and taught me how to use my crutches once I got them. He also brought me little things to make my life more interesting, such as a box that played all sorts of music and a few three-dimensional puzzles that I could put together.
    He always checked on me in the evenings, and sometimes stayed in my room for a few minutes, bringing in a couple of beers or another type of drink. I had found beer bitter and disgusting at first, but it was starting to grow on me. We discussed some of the movies I had watched, and I could tell it was a favorite hobby of his.
    The last weekend before I went back to work, he came over for the evening and showed me his favorite movie. It was about another captain of a ship and his crew who take on a mysterious girl and try to find out her secret. It was funny and interesting, and his gruff laughter seemed to fill my quarters with joy. In the scary parts I