Page 23 of The Brightness Between Us

“He could have been acting out. You’ve acted out before.”

“Did he seem like he was trying to get attention? Or more like he’d come to with no memory of how he got there? Those are two totally different things. And both of them are way different from my taking too long on my expeditions because I’m out for attention, or because I’m trying to live up to your sister, or whatever your theoriesabout me are. You of all people should recognize someone who has no idea how he came to be somewhere.”

Dad flings his arm out vaguely. I’m not sure if he’s referring to the lab or the settlement or all of Minerva or his history as a clone who woke up on a spaceship, or the weirdness of raising his sister’s copy. “What do you think our options are here? It’s not like there are treatment centers or psychiatrists. Kodiak and Yarrow are talking right now, while they haul soil. I’m sure Yarrow will be able to explain himself.”

“I’m gladyou’reconfident,” I say. “It’s just that I’ve known him his whole life, and he’s never done anything like this. You know Yarrow. He’s sweet and gentle and uncomplicated.”

“You really are just like Minerva sometimes. Fromyourpoint of view he’s uncomplicated. You’re not inside his head, so you don’t know,” Dad says.

“You know what I mean. Dad! I just want you to acknowledge that this is very serious.”

“I do know it’s serious,” Dad says, more softly. “And I know that people can have parts of themselves that we don’t have access to, until they choose to reveal them. That doesn’t mean they’re inconsistent or even that they changed. It just means that they’ve decided to let us see inside.”

Hmm. What are my sealed-off compartments? I don’t know. Am I supposed to have them? What were Minerva’s?I’ve been desperate to know that sort of thing, but anytime I bring her up, all conversation ceases, so I’ve learned to keep my wonderings to myself. “How’s it going, OS?” I finally ask, to fill the silence.

“One and a half minutes until my analysis is finished,” OS responds.

“Sounds good,” I say.

Dad rests his forehead against his kneecap for a moment, then raises his head again with what I know before I see it will be his fake parental “I’ve got this” smile. It must be exhausting, to have to pretend to be confident for Yarrow’s and my sake. I want to tell him he doesn’t have to do that anymore, but I can’t find the right words. Icanfind the right words for something else, though. “Dad, I know Yarrow and the fence post have taken all your attention, but can we talk for a second about how I discovered a small grove of trees out there? The first new thing we’ve encountered in years? Because I was right that I should go exploring?”

He blinks. “Yes! Owl, that’s amazing. I mean that. It really is.”

It doesn’t feel like he means it, not one bit. Yarrow is foremost on his mind. As he should be. It still stings, though. I blunder on. “I want to go back out with Rover, whatever this soil sample tells us. Okay? There’s more out there. Minerva might have seas, volcanoes, or even featuresthat didn’t exist back on Earth. This isn’t just curiosity or wanderlust. This could be about our very survival. I don’t know how else to say it.”

Dad nods. “I think you’re right. It scares me to send you out, but we’re all just going to have to get over that, I think.”

“You could always come with me,” I say.

“I’d like to. But with the embryo machine going, I need to be here in case we’ve got another viable one. You’re going to have to be our resident explorer. With Rover, of course.”

He’s right—I can hear the hum from the gestation centrifuge. I reach out and touch my dad’s elbow. “You’re trying again for a child? Dad. I didn’t know. That’s amazing. Whatever happens, I’m proud of you.”

He gives me a complicated look. He probably doesn’t want to hear his daughter is proud of him, I guess?

“Results are in,” OS announces. Dad and I both instinctively get to our feet, as though the situation calls for some formality.

“In order of quantity, the sample is fifteen-point-four percent silicon dioxide, twelve-point-eight percent sodium oxide, nine-point-zero percent calcium carbonate, eight-point-nine percent chromium oxide, seven-point-five percent—”

“Wait, chromium oxide? At eight-point-nine percent?” Dad interrupts.

“Yes,” OS responds.

His eyes are wide open.

“What is it? Why is that so good?” I ask.

“Metal,” he says. His voice turns into a shout, and he’s running out of the laboratory and into the settlement. “Hard metal!”

“Hard metal!” I echo, running after him.

I tail Dad to the dining table, where Father is seated next to Yarrow. They both look up at us blearily. Yarrow’s eyes are red. “Metal?” Father asks back.

Like a cloud passing, the gloom lifts—the brother I know is there, and shining. “Metal!” he echoes. It’s still a long time until I turn sixteen, but now it feels like I’ve gotten another early birthday present.

We become our own mining operation, Father and me taking turns accompanying Rover back and forth to the alien rust site, returning with as much soil as Rover can tow. The rust moss spores had been our own scouting party, and found a jackpot of heavy metal for us, marking the spot with their overgrowth. All without having an intelligence of their own. It’s kind of amazing to think about. I was relieved that we didn’t need to destroy the aliens to get the chromium; it was in a lot of the surrounding terrain.

We consider relocating our whole settlement to the jungle site. But, though our habitats are all designed to be mobile,the gray room from the sunkenEndeavoris trapped, and it contains the gestation device that Dad is dutifully tending. After twelve years avoiding new heartbreak, they’re going for it—having another kid. Already six weeks in; they hadn’t wanted to let us know until they were sure the zygote had become an embryo. May this one make it.

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