Page 10 of The Brightness Between Us

“We’re humans, though,” Yarrow says. “We’re still going to make human choices, which will probably ‘repeat all that,’ whether or not you hide the past from us.” His words trail off as he takes in Father’s scowl. “Don’t you think?”

“One of the characters says something really wise onPink Lagoon,” I say. “‘Those who do not learn from history are doomed to repeat it.’”

The dads stare at me, which makes me ramble. “It was Mittens Magoo. He’s a talking raccoon. Really, um, funny. Like, an unusually humorous character. Except when he’s being wise.”

Father snorts. “That didn’t originate inPink Lagoon.That particular cliché has been around for hundreds of years. In both Fédération and Dimokratía.”

“More like tens of thousands of years,” Yarrow corrects.

Dad waves at us all to stop. “I know that you two thinkyou have all the answers, but you’re fifteen years old, which means you’re also idiots. Can I continue? If we kept it all from you, if we made Minerva a true blank slate, then there was a chance we could make this a much better version of what human life on Earth was.That’swhat we were thinking.”

“Yeah, we got it,” I mutter. “Even this ‘idiot’ can understand that.”

“I meant that lovingly,” Dad says.

“I know,” I say softly. I like getting teased by Dad.

“The presence of animal zygotes was unexpected,” Father says, his voice low. “We weren’t sure whether to raise them or not. We printed pens, but there was a risk that the yaks and especially the ducks could get free. And to survive, the animals needed terrestrial microbiomes, which meant feeding them the same fecal pellets all the human clones had to take, and we don’t have an infinite supply of those.”

“Please don’t say ‘fecal pellets’ again,” I say.

“We could always make new fecal pellets,” Yarrow offers.

“Yarrow, what did Ijustsay? Anyway, now we know the truth,” I say. “Does that mean we can watch more Earth reels? Find out all the rest of Earth history that you’ve been keeping from us?”

“Our Museum of Earth Civ is pretty paltry,” Yarrowsays, pointing behind the smallest greenhouse. There we’ve accumulated Dad’s broken violin from theCoordinated Endeavorand some busted old playing cards. When we were little we had Rover print some models of skyscrapers and antique vehicles and figurines from scrap polycarb. Those are still there, dented and half-melted and missing wheels. Toys without kids.

“I think those twenty seasons ofPink Lagoonwill have to do for now,” Father says, with the hint of a smile. Dad kisses him. “You’ll have to turn to Mittens Magoo for all your Earth insights.”

“You two are the actual worst parents in the universe,” I say.

“The only parents, actually, which means we’re also the best ones,” Dad counters. “And the handsomest and the prettiest and the greenest and ugliest and—”

“This is the kind of thing that’s inevitable, don’t you think?” Yarrow interrupts, his voice unexpectedly harsh. “You wanted to keep this world protected from us, but you also wanted livestock, so now there’s another invasive species on this pristine planet. Formerly pristine planet. It didn’t work. You didn’t actually protect Minerva from us. Not at all.”

I steal a side-eye at Yarrow. This would usually be my sort of line, not his. He’s our melancholy optimist. I’m our exuberant pessimist.

Dad watches Father, who’s busy controlling his breathing, flexing and unflexing his digits. Dad tousles Father’s dark hair. “We aren’t pretending this isn’t complicated. We’re doing the best we can, okay?”

Yarrow nods, twisting his hands in his lap. “It’s a lot of new information,” he murmurs. “And I’m sad that malevor is dead. I think it’s weird that you’re all eating it. I’m just sad, that’s all.”

I help myself to another piece of meat from the pile, bite into it with gusto, take my time chewing and swallowing and then drinking from a cup of water. “While we’re on a roll, is this the sum of it? Anything else you’ve kept from us that you want to get off your chest?”

Dad and Father look at each other.

Chapter 5

A very short parade. One humanlike intelligence and four humans, tromping across the surface of Minerva. Rover goes first, tireless and always at top morale. The dads are next, holding hands. Yarrow and I slump after, as strange as we usually are around each other whenever life gets extraordinary, all limbs and jerky movements and furious inexpressible thoughts.

I do like seeing our parents like this, though. Their silent closeness. They deserve it. They’ve gone through things that no human couple in history has gone through. They lived multiple cloned lives, each one leaving messages for his later selves before getting killed, until this set became the first humans to settle on a new planet, with only each other for company. I wonder sometimes if they’d have given each other a second look if they’d met back on Earth. I’m sure they wonder it, too. But here, they have no other option. Maybe love is more complicated than just finding your “one true match,” like Madame Zingian claimed onPink Lagoon.

Not that love is something I’ll ever experience. At leastnot the romantic kind. The only person around my age is my brother, and... no. Yarrow might be genetically unrelated, but we’re still siblings. I used to pin him down and fart in his face. Am often still tempted to, to be honest.

I watch the characters onPink Lagoonand wonder sometimes what it would be like to kiss them, even Madame Zingian, who’s one-quarter reptile. It doesn’t bother me except at these moments, when I watch the dads hold hands and walk in step under a sky full of stars, when I know their peacefulness is somehow tied to their romance, to their love, that it’s a source of relief and comfort I’ll never have. Unless some sexy alien suddenly appears over a hillside, batting their eyelashes at me. That’s been the subject of plenty of sci-fi reels throughout history, lots of sexy green big-haired aliens, but I think it’s reasonable to assume that’s not what the dads are leading us toward right now.

Instead we’re heading to a puddle.

Rover rocks back and forth beside it, runs its metallic appendages over the surface at high speed, producing patterns of intersecting ripples.

---