Page 19 of The Brightness Between Us

“I’m not detecting any invisible life-forms beyond those that are native to Minerva. Given that these visible growths appear to have the physiology of plants, I think it’s reasonably safe to enter.”

The alien moss turns from rusty clover to tree trunks after I take a few steps in. No slow transition here.

I’m not sure iftreesis even the right word for these growths; I’ve seen terrestrial trees in my training reels, and OS ran Yarrow and me through botany basics as part of our Earth history coursework, but of course I’ve never seen any live. The mossy tendrils twist into a woody texture, which continues to spiral into tight trunks that reach four meters or so overhead. The trunks spray out more tendrils of wood, which aren’t covered in big leaves, like Earth trees, but by more of the moss. We know from our studies that the alien moss takes in carbon dioxide and releases oxygen, like plants on Earth, but without need for chlorophyll or even sunlight. Yarrow and OS have been experimenting to figure out its mechanisms, but haven’t managed it yet.

Maybe we ought to have focused more on researching the alien moss. None of us expected it to go and turn itself into a grove. “If this organism doesn’t need sunlight,” I say, “then why would it have a trunk-and-leaf structure? Or I guess it’s more like trunk-and-moss.”

“Sea coral created similar formations, even down at deep-sea vents. In those cases it was to catch nutrients or prey organisms floating in the water. This extraminervan organism might be catching something it needs from the air. Or perhaps preying on any single-celled Minervans that are airborne.”

“Any thoughts about why it would be growing so densely here and nowhere else?”

“Growth of vegetation on Earth was generally limited by the quantity of the scarcest necessary element. It’s reasonable to think that the alien moss would be inhibited by similar factors, and found more of that scarcest element here. A suggested course of action would be to harvest some of the soil here, and perhaps a piece of the treelike extensions that were called ‘branches’ on Earth trees. We can also test the soil for trace elements, and cross those with the elements present in the trunks and branches.”

“You’ll get some of the soil?” I ask as I test one of the trunks under my fingers. It’s soft on the very surface, but hard beneath. Like feeling someone’s elbow.

“I’ve already started,” OS reports from behind me.

“Okay,” I say, checking my palms. There’s no irritation from the woody growths.

I give one of the trunks a push. It springs back. It won’t be easy to rip away part of one of these. “Do you have asaw in that Rover body of yours?” I ask OS.

“I do, but it is only five centimeters long. Not an ideal tool for this circumstance, but it could give you an initial cut.”

I look at this thriving alien form. I have no idea what’s going on beneath its surface. I don’t relish the idea of cutting into it, both for my own safety and because it feels brutal to hack into some organism that hasn’t done anything to me. Just because it looks like trees doesn’t mean that it doesn’t have alien feelings. It could exist more on the model of a fungus, and all these trunks could be appendages of some giant creature growing beneath the surface of the world. I could be waking it up by chopping into its toe.

I bite my lip. I really managed to creep myself out with that one. “I don’t think harvesting any of this growth is a good idea,” I tell OS.

“Can you find some that’s already unattached? That might have fallen away?”

“Hmm,” I say. “Maybe in the center.” There, the trunks are knotted so tightly that I can’t slip between them anymore. I’ll have to climb up and over, wedging myself between.

I don’t much want to do that, especially after my imagination offered up that lovely giant-organism-waiting-to-eat-me theory. But science calls. I toss my spear andpack to the ground behind us. They land with a hush in the rusty clover. “You can do this, Owl,” I say out loud as I lift myself between the trunks. “There’s nothing to be scared of here. You always claimed you were the brave one.”

It feels like the organism’s appendages are moving beneath me, pushing against my body, either passing me along or investigating the feeling of my skin against theirs. That must just be my imagination, though.

No, it’s not. As I’m slipping between two tight trunks, they press into my ribs. “OS,” I gasp, “it’s—”

As if startled by my voice, the trunks release me. I can pass through.

“This stuff can move!” I call to OS.

“That is unexpected. Come back out now, Owl,” OS calls back.

“I’m almost there,” I say. “And it didn’t mean to hurt me.” At least I don’t think so. It did shrink away, after all.

In the very center is a trunk that’s taller and thicker than the others. I give it a wide berth, passing around the edges of the grove. Finally, at the far side, I find a grayed branch. It’s split down the middle, like a dead Earth tree. When I pull at one of the splintery pieces, it comes free. “Got one!” I call to OS.

I look at the stick. “Are you alive?”

The stick doesn’t answer.

“Come along!” OS says. “Hurry.”

I look at the dead piece of alien organism, considering what it means. It’s broad but not too thick, which makes its weight manageable. All the same, I’ll have to rig some way to string it against my back. Whatever happens, however I have to transport it, I’ll have something new to show for my expedition. Proof it was worth it. Everyone will be so excited.

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.

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