Page 51 of The Brightness Between Us

I don’t say anything. I just look at the stars. Looking for the prick of light that means the end is coming.

“Would you like me to continue with the history of the Earth?” OS prompts.

“No,” I say. I let out a long breath. “That’s enough history for tonight.”

Chapter 2

The next morning, Father and Owl prepare for another mining trip. I stand a few paces away, sipping hot water while I watch them examine the images Rover took of the dig site. The pit they’ve created looks painful. It looks like our planet has a wound.

What have we done to our home?

Father runs diagnostics on Rover while Owl packs their supplies, an eye to the sky. Both Sisters are already up, and I’m sure Owl is itching to get on their way. “Do you need any help?” I ask. My arms feel weird, like they’re someone else’s. The one with the hot water is flung out in space, the other one is motionless down at my hip.

Owl barely looks up. “Nope, I have this down to a science.”

I nod, even though there’s nobody else to see me do it.

Minutes later, Owl and Father and Rover have bid us goodbye and are on their way out the gate. Its protective mechanism clicks behind them. The pneumatic guns tick and buzz as they scan for enemies.

I turn around. There aren’t any enemies. There’s just me.

On the far side of the settlement, Dad is bent over OS’s printing mechanism, deep in focus as he troubleshoots. His body looks so vulnerable. The neck, the temples, the skull full of blood and electricity. If that skull opens, the whole body goes, too. I walk right behind him. My feet crunch in the soil; my clothes rustle. I can hear their very fibers. But my dad hears none of it.

“Hi, Dad,” I say, right behind him.

He startles. “Yarrow. You crept up on me. Need something?”

I shake my head.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes.”

“All right,” he says. “Just tell me if you do need something, Yar.”

“I’m going to spend a little time with OS, learning about Earth history,” I say. “Is that all right?”

“Yes, of course. You have full access. Take up to an hour, okay? Then I need you to ferry some metal for me.”

I whirl—too fast, like my body’s not mine, like it’s maybe not even human—and head over to the gray portal from the sinkingEndeavor.I pass through.

Hush-hush-whir. Hush-hush-whir.My new sibling is gestating. I tent my fingers over the device. What will thisnew person look like?

I lay my bracelet on the console, tap into the extensive memory of OS. I skate through agilely, faster in this digital territory than either of the dads is, or even Owl. This feels like my native land. I speak the language of this system. I am not alone when I’m inside it.

I find myself drawn not to memory but to function. Not to what’s recorded but how the present is processed. I don’t know why. It’s like I’m wandering a new planet, and the wandering is enough, without finding landmarks.

How do you work, OS?The question feels urgent.

OS is happy to tell me how it works. It doesn’t need words or codes to do so. My fingers move on their own. OS opens before them willingly, and I disappear inside. I’m beyond thinking or judging or needing. I flow, in a way I cannot when the medium is just soil.

Shaking. My body is shaking. I feel dirt in my eyes. Has someone thrown dirt in my eyes?

I flail, trying to clear the landslide around me. I contact something soft, shove it hard. A voice I know grunts.

Light comes in, and I find my dad, Ambrose my dad, splayed out on the ground. The full light of the Scorch hits my eyes. I’ve been inside OS for hours. I’ve beenlostinside OS for hours.

What have I been doing?

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