Chapter 8

Chapter 8

During my waking moments a few mornings later, still half dreaming, I realize what I’m going to do with whatever remains of the piece of wood once we’ve tested it. While I eat my morning algal jerky, OS stands guard, ticking and whirring. “How hard is it to carve a violin?” I ask.

“It took centuries of humans improving their skills, generation by generation, to bring string instruments to their ultimate evolution. The selection of wood for the main body, the polish of that wood, the differing tree species for the wood used for the pegs and bridge, then the materials—gut or wire—for the strings themselves. Violins also have bows, which require precise engineering of the frog, honed wood for the arc, and synthetic or real hair for the bow.”

“So I take it that’s all too difficult for me to pull off?” I ask OS.

“That is a reasonable conclusion, yes.”

“Well, I’ll just have to work very hard at it,” I say, with a pointed look at the piece of alien wood. I heft it, slipping it through the carrying loop on my back, next to the spear.

“You will fail to make a violin,” OS says. “To begin with, that piece of wood is not nearly big enough. But Ambrose will be touched by the attempt.”

“That’s precisely what I’m counting on, OS.” I wink, like a character from Pink Lagoon . Or I try to. Winking is hard! I could use some practice.

“I could print a type of polycarbonate that is even more resonant than wood,” OS offers.

“Not the point.”

“I understand that. But perhaps you will let me print a violin anyway, and you could use the alien wood for the bow’s stick. That is more feasible. Now, let’s get moving. If we move at six-point-one kilometers per hour or faster, we can arrive at the settlement before the Scorch.”

An anniversary present for the dads! I’ve figured it out.

I stretch, lifting my sore arms up to the Sisters. The sky is so large out here, without even the merest hill to crowd the horizon. If I look forward and back, I can see places where I have been already. But if I step even one foot to either side, I’m on terrain that no human has ever trod. For that thrilling feeling alone, I could easily stay out here weeks longer, though I have been starting to miss the dads and Yarrow.

In a small act of acknowledgment (defiance?) I jog a couple meters to the left before following Rover on our course home. Charting my own path. A pathetically small deviation, but my own.

“I won’t ask what that was about,” OS says.

“Yeah, thanks, that’s probably for the best,” I reply.

I decide that once I arrive at the settlement I’ll seek Yarrow and Dad and Father out individually and share the news with them one by one, to eke out as much drama as possible.

But one of them finds me first.

Rover slows when a shape appears on the horizon, a good half a kilometer before the settlement fence. My first thought is that another alien tree has somehow sprouted, but that would make no sense, even by exoplanet rules. “What is that?” I ask.

“It appears to be your brother,” OS says.

“You can see that far off?” I ask, visoring my hand over my eyes.

“Yes, perfectly well. He has a little bit of his breakfast porridge still sticking to the hair above his lip.”

“Okay, then,” I say. I proceed toward the settlement. Rover slows down even more. “What?”

“He’s exhibiting unusual vital signs,” OS says.

I slow my pace to match Rover’s. I give Yarrow a hearty wave, but he doesn’t respond. Rover slows down even more, but I speed up. “Yarrow!” I yell.

Yarrow was staring at the ground, but he snaps to attention when he hears my voice. He stares at me. He doesn’t make any attempt to wave back.

Unnerved, I stop a dozen paces short. “Yar! What’s going on? Are you okay?”

He stares back at me, dazed.

Now adrenaline is giving me a hot-cold feeling. “Is everyone okay? What’s happened?”

He doesn’t respond. He just holds up his hands. In them is a long piece of polycarb, shaped like a skinnier version of my spear. I sort of recognize what it is, but in the shock of the moment I can’t figure it out. “What is that?”

He holds it out, like he’s hoping I’ll take it from him. I close the space between us, staring into his barely-seeing eyes as I reach out and take the shard. Rover ticks and wheezes behind us, but OS keeps its voice silent.

I heft the weird spear-like thing. I recognize it now. It’s a fence post. From the perimeter.

“Why do you have this?” I ask Yarrow. My eyes go to the settlement behind him, looking for gaps in the fence, for the horns of ravaging malevors. There aren’t any immediate signs of crisis.

Yarrow finally speaks. “I don’t know.”

“What do you mean, you ‘don’t know’?”

“I just... came to... out here, with it. When I saw you approaching. It’s like I just woke up. I don’t know what’s going on with me!”

I hear the trill of panic in his voice. He’s not joking around. “Hey, it’s okay,” I say.

OS speaks. “His vitals are healthy, except for the elevated pulse expected with a high level of stress.”

I cross the final steps and hug my brother. “It’s okay, we’ll figure out what happened to you. Maybe you got food or gas poisoning, but you’ll be fine. Are the dads okay?”

“I don’t know !” he wails, sharp and loud.

“Shh, shh,” I say, holding him. “We’ll figure it out. I’m sure everything is fine.”

“Where have you been ?!”

“You’re making me nervous,” I say. “You know where I’ve been. Please relax for now, okay? How long have you been this way? Hush, don’t answer yet. Concentrate on breathing. That’s it.”

He does as I ask, resting his chin on my shoulder and giving long inhales and exhales. I take in his thick brother scent, slightly gross and slightly sweet. While I do, the post flexes under my fingers and my mind races. What could possibly explain this?

“I’m investigating the fence integrity,” OS announces as Rover hovers off toward the settlement.

“Let’s go with OS,” I whisper. “This piece of polycarb belongs somewhere . We should put it back.”

He nods, and draws away. I give him a kiss on the cheek before he’s out of range, and then slot the fence post beside the alien log on my back.

OS peels off as we approach, away from the safe entrance and toward the malevor territory on the south side. “No, no, no ,” I curse as I break into a sprint.

Yarrow gasps. “I didn’t do anything, I swear it.”

I don’t know what to think, so I don’t answer. We curve around the fence.

There, just ahead, two panels of the perimeter have parted. It looks like an open book, only the pages curve away from an open space, through which a human or a robot—or a malevor—could easily fit.

I want to call out the dads’ names, but before I do I look to the malevor territory... and see them. They’re a good hundred meters out, but their attention is focused on Rover, Yarrow, and me. The two biggest males raise and lower their front hooves. Agitated.

“The missing post means the circuit is broken, and the pneumatic guns are no longer active,” OS says. “It does not appear that the malevors are aware of that fact yet. We are in the window where they are still scared of the fence, and we shouldn’t lose that advantage.”

“Where are Dad and Father?” I ask.

“I am unable to detect them from here. Come inside now, before the malevors approach. Hurry!”

My thoughts churn in too many directions for me to decide. Luckily OS doesn’t get baffled; it weighs variables and makes choices in the space of microseconds. All I have to do is listen and obey. Yarrow and I follow along, to the parted fence.

The sharp-horned malevors start toward us. “Quicker!” OS says.

Rover floats through, then Yarrow tumbles after. I’m the last in. I whirl around and hold the two lengths of fence together. Since I’m facing out, I have a perfect view of the approaching beasts, thundering closer. “Yarrow, take the post and slot it through.”

I don’t feel anything at my back. “Yarrow!”

Then his fingers are against my spine, and I can feel the post sliding up from the carrying loop. My brother’s hands enter my field of view as he passes the post through its brackets.

“Step back!” OS orders.

The fence buzzes. The pneumatic guns dip back and forth as they initialize, then the nearest one fires into the soil a few paces before the charging malevors. They skid to a stop, then bolt back to their females and young.

“Dad? Father? Dads!” I shout as I run through the settlement.

Dad emerges from the laboratory, wiping his hands on a rag. “Darling! You’re back early.”

I throw myself into his arms. “Dad!”

He laughs, then he feels my shuddering and stops. “Owl? What’s wrong?”

I look back, and see Yarrow standing a few paces behind, body slumped and arms down at his sides. I’ll let him explain himself. “Rover and I got back and found that the fence was broken,” I say. “I was scared that the malevors had gotten in.”

“Broken!” Dad says. “Where?”

“It’s fixed now,” OS reports. “Yarrow had a fence post in his hands, on the outside of the settlement.”

Dad’s brows scrunch as he turns to my brother. “Yarrow? You were outside, with a fence post? Why?”

A very good question, Dad. Yarrow’s expression turns empty.

“Owl and Rover, you’re back!” Father calls from the dining unit. “And just in time; I’ve got a heavy lift I could use your help with. Even Yarrow and I don’t have enough shoulder power for this one.” He stops a meter back, taking in the sight of our sorry lot. “What is going on here?”

None of us can quite figure out how to answer.

“And what is that ?” Father asks.

He’s pointing at me—no, he’s pointing at my spear; no, he’s pointing at the alien log on my back. I nearly forgot about it.

“I found a jungle,” I say. “Grown from that rusty moss you found on the asteroid you retrieved in outer space. OS and I discovered it.” I laugh for a second, and then I break into tears.

It’s Yarrow who makes it to me first, his arms tight around my torso. I laugh-sob into his chest. Without withdrawing from his embrace, I turn my head so I can see our dads. “I’m sorry, the Scorch is starting and this is all a lot, and I’m starving, can we eat?”

I’m not really that hungry. I just want to force us forward into a world where nothing is wrong with my brother.