Scarecrow

Sera took my notebook away before breakfast.

I looked up from the page.

“I was nearly finished.”

“You wrote the same question three times.”

I looked at the closed cover in her hand.

That was possible.

It was Day 443. I had slept, but the strip beside Ari’s pod had come into every part of the night that wasn’t sleep. The dark surface. The familiar refusal when I tried to see beneath it. The Teeming standing between it and the boy.

What is it?

What did they put in the pods?

What is it?

Sera sat beside me with two bowls.

“You can have it back after you eat.”

“Is that an order?”

“No. You can take it now. Then I’ll be disappointed in you while you’re hungry.”

I took the bowl.

She looked pleased.

For a while, we talked about the camp instead.

Ari had slept. Dena had asked whether she could help Nell with the arrival records. Kellan had made his small flame, put it out, and then become cross because Liam said doing it once more wouldn’t make the first success more real.

“He sounds familiar,” Sera said.

I ate another mouthful.

She leaned against my shoulder.

“I’m coming down with you.”

“I know.”

“Good. I didn’t want to spend breakfast arguing about it.”

I put my free hand over hers.

“Would you come for a walk tonight?”

She looked at me.

“If there isn’t an emergency,” I added.

“If there is, ask me again when it’s over.”

“All right.”

She kissed my cheek and gave the notebook back.

I left it closed until I’d finished eating.

We waited through the dawn window.

The names came. Dot recorded the exchange. No ordinary message from Command. No explanation for the new arrivals or the things fastened beneath their seats.

I wanted to force a question through the few patterns we’d learned, as though wanting enough could make a letter become a sentence.

Wren put one finger on the last confirmed entry.

“We keep what works.”

I nodded.

The children were here. Whatever we thought of the people who’d sent them, their lives were not a reason to break the only uncertain line we still had to Earth.

We kept the pattern simple.

Then we prepared to go below.

Toby stayed at camp.

This time, nobody had to persuade anybody.

He checked the bag we were taking, asked Luna when she expected us back, and made Risa put an extra roll of cloth where she could reach it without emptying everything else.

“I don’t know what that thing does,” he said.

“Neither do we.”

“Then don’t come back telling me you found out by touching it.”

Risa closed the bag.

“I wasn’t planning to.”

He looked at me.

“I heard him,” I said.

Liam, standing nearby with a tray of cups for the newcomers, nodded solemnly.

“We should put that on a board.”

Luna took the lamp from his other hand.

“We’re running out of boards.”

At the upper opening, the guide was waiting without a cup.

That felt different from all the water visits before it.

Dot stopped beside the entrance. Two hands went ahead with the lamps. Another carried the screen with yesterday’s pictures, turned away from the guide until we reached a place where it could look without standing in the path.

Luna went first. Then Risa. Sera stayed behind me on the steps, close enough to catch my sleeve if my leg failed but not holding it as though she expected it to.

The arch shone red in the lamplight.

The model still stood on the shelf.

Both channels open.

The guide passed it.

Stopped at the descending track.

Turned toward us.

We followed as far as the lower ledge.

The nursery pool was full to its usual overflow. Water crossed our glass trough in a steady line. Teeming moved along the tracks with their small burdens, pausing when the guide brought us through.

They didn’t all stop working to look at us.

I was grateful for that.

At the far side of the pool, the guide turned into a shallow recess I hadn’t seen properly before. The queen’s body lay along one edge of it, plates rising and falling so slowly that the movement was easy to miss.

Luna held us back while Dot’s hand took the lamp farther in.

There were objects on the floor.

Not piled together.

Placed apart, each in a hollow in the stone.

The first was a broken ring.

The second a pale branching thing that might once have been alive in a way I understood.

The third was dark.

I stopped.

A narrow curved plate, thicker than the strip beside Ari’s pod, with one edge broken and the other almost perfectly smooth.

I looked into it.

Or tried to.

Nothing.

The same blank refusal.

Beside me, Risa drew a breath through her teeth.

“Faint,” she said.

“Don’t follow it.”

“I know.”

She moved her hand away from the wall and kept it beside her.

Luna watched both of us.

“That one?”

“Yes.”

I had expected a single object.

Perhaps the piece taken from the lander. Perhaps something like the core we’d seen carried through the canyon.

There were more.

A dark fragment half the size of my palm. A long shape with a square end. Several pieces too small to understand without moving closer than I wanted to move yet.

Some lay inside old pale fibers.

Some had fine silver threads curled near them without touching.

One rested beside a bit of metal I could see into perfectly well.

A bracket.

Human-made, or at least made from material I’d worked with before. Bolts. A cut edge. A shape intended to fasten something that didn’t naturally belong beneath it.

I crouched where I could see without reaching.

The guide stayed beside the entrance to the recess.

“Can you show the picture?” I asked Dot’s hand.

The screen turned toward the guide.

Ari’s pod bracket. The dark strip. The stones beside the river.

The guide touched the picture with one limb.

Then moved to the bracket on the floor.

Touched that.

Then the dark piece beside it.

Luna crouched next to me.

“Same arrangement,” she said quietly.

“Looks like it.”

“Don’t say more yet.”

“I wasn’t going to.”

She glanced at me.

I corrected myself.

“I was thinking more.”

“I know.”

The queen moved behind the recess.

One plate lifted a little higher than the others. A thick strand came around its edge and lowered toward the floor.

We moved back.

The guide moved with us.

The strand touched the familiar bracket first, resting against the cut metal. Then it withdrew and approached the dark fragment.

Stopped short.

A little light passed along it.

The dark surface answered.

Not with a sound I could hear. A pale line appeared beneath it, too fine and brief to be a reflection of our lamp.

I forgot to breathe.

The strand withdrew farther.

The pale line went out.

Risa was watching with both hands held clear of the rock.

“What did you feel?” Luna asked.

“Something changed. Not enough for me to tell you what.”

“Your heart?”

“Mine.”

Luna looked at me.

I nodded before she had to ask.

The queen’s strand moved back toward the bracket.

Touched it.

Nothing happened that I could see.

Then it went toward the dark fragment again.

The pale line returned.

Sera’s hand found my sleeve.

Not pulling me away.

Making certain I remembered where the rest of us were.

It repeated the movement once more.

Bracket.

Dark fragment.

Distance.

Light.

We’d made two streams of water and watched the queen work out what changed when a gate moved.

Now it was showing us something it knew how to change.

I wanted to say it was teaching us.

This time, I thought the word might be close enough.

Luna looked at the guide, then the queen’s strand.

“We see the difference,” she said.

The words couldn’t do much.

Her open hands might.

She pointed to the bracket. Then the dark piece. Kept a space between her palms.

The strand remained still.

The next object was nearer the queen’s body.

We didn’t move toward it until the guide had gone ahead and stopped on a clear part of the floor.

It was another bracket, still fitted around a dark piece.

I could see the fastenings.

One had been damaged. The others held.

Between the familiar metal and the dark surface lay a thin gray layer, smooth where it hadn’t cracked.

Insulation, perhaps. A spacer. Something to keep one material from touching another.

I didn’t name it aloud yet.

There were wires attached to the bracket, cut short.

Not the fine silver threads reaching from the queen.

Manufactured wire, with regular coverings and ends that had been joined by a tool.

Sera crouched beside the lamp.

“That was built.”

“Yes.”

I studied the assembly from where I was.

The dark piece had been enclosed without being pierced. The bolts passed around it, drawing the outer frame tight. Someone had designed a way to hold a thing they couldn’t drill through.

I knew how much thought that took.

I’d spent enough nights finding ways to work around what I couldn’t change.

The guide placed one limb beside a bolt.

Then drew it back.

The queen’s strand approached the open side of the bracket.

The pale line appeared beneath the dark surface again.

This time it broke into several smaller lines.

The strand withdrew quickly.

Not far.

Quickly enough that all four of us noticed.

“Is it hurting?” Sera asked.

“I don’t know.”

The words felt thin.

But I didn’t know.

I couldn’t look through the dark material. Couldn’t see what lived in it, if anything did. Couldn’t tell whether the lines meant waking, pain, recognition, or something for which none of us had a word.

The queen touched the loose bracket beside the first fragment.

Then the fitted one.

The guide put its limb near the bolt again.

Luna looked at me.

“Do you think it’s asking you to open it?”

“I think it may be showing us the difference between one that’s open and one that isn’t.”

“That’s not quite the same thing.”

“No.”

We had not brought tools for taking apart unknown machinery beside a living creature.

I could have changed the bolt.

That was the thought I had to put down first.

I could see it. I understood the metal. That didn’t tell me what would happen when the pressure came off the thing inside it.

I put both hands flat against my knees.

Then shook my head, slowly, and moved back a little.

The guide stayed beside the assembly.

The queen’s strand touched the bracket once more.

Waited.

I wished I could tell it I wasn’t refusing forever. That I needed to understand enough not to do the wrong thing quickly.

Sera set the picture of the river bracket beside the lamp.

Then put our small slate beside it and began drawing the bolt.

Something we could take away without taking the object.

The guide watched her pencil.

Risa asked for the lamp from another angle.

No spark. No probing through the wall.

Just light.

She and Sera held the two views while I drew the frame and marked what I could see of the joins. Luna wrote down the order of the queen’s demonstration.

Loose bracket. Free fragment. Enclosed fragment.

Light near the strand.

Withdrawal from the enclosed piece.

We didn’t turn any of those into a conclusion while we were still in the recess.

When we stepped back, the queen lowered its strand toward the free fragment again.

The pale line returned, steadier this time.

The guide set a little piece of pale fiber beside the fitted bracket.

Then touched the corresponding place in Sera’s drawing.

Sera stopped moving the pencil.

“I think it knows that’s the same thing.”

I looked from the picture to the object.

A representation.

Not water doing what water did.

A mark that stood for something else.

We had learned something about the queen, even if we still didn’t know what had fallen from the sky.

We came back to the upper shelf with the drawings.

The model stood where we’d left it. The soil-marked cup held a little damp grit. The clean cup had its pale fiber beside it.

I stopped there longer than I meant to.

Luna waited beside me.

“What?”

“We keep asking whether it understands what we show it.”

“Yes.”

“It’s probably having the same difficulty with us.”

She looked down toward the recess.

After a moment, she said, “Then we should make our answers less confusing.”

I nodded.

Before we left, Sera held up the drawing of the bracket.

Pointed to the recess.

Then to the stairs, and back to the recess again.

Not a word for tomorrow.

But something that might mean we were taking the question away and bringing it back.

The guide followed us as far as the first step.

Stopped there.

Let us go.

Outside, Dot asked to see all the drawings together.

We laid them on the flat rock beside the opening while she compared them with the recordings.

For a long time, she said nothing.

Then one arm moved toward the picture of Ari’s pod bracket.

“This fastening pattern occurs in the new landing shells.”

“All of them?” Luna asked.

“This unit has clear images from four. Not all.”

“And the old lander?”

Dot paused.

“The carrier frame differs. The method of enclosing the central material is similar.”

I thought of Toby’s bed inside that lander.

Of the white light that came on when you touched the wall.

A place designed to carry someone comfortably while something we didn’t understand sat inside its machinery.

I sat down before my leg forced the decision.

“So they sent more pieces,” Risa said.

“Possibly,” Luna answered.

“The pods came with them.”

“That much, yes.”

Risa looked at the drawings.

For a moment, I could see how badly she wanted a person to be angry with.

I felt the same want.

Crane. The people who wrote the instructions. Whoever had looked at a child and a sealed pod and decided that calling something reception would make somebody be there when it landed.

But the queen hadn’t shown us the person who’d tightened the bolts.

It had shown us the bolts.

We could begin by understanding those.

Back at camp, we kept the explanation small enough to be true.

There was unfamiliar material in at least one new pod, and similar frames visible in several others. The Teeming had removed a piece near Ari and kept it apart from him. The queen had shown us other pieces and a difference between a free one and one still enclosed.

No recovered dark components were to come into the camp.

No child needed to go back to a wreck to prove what they’d seen.

We would ask questions. They could answer what they remembered and say when they didn’t.

Luna told them herself.

Then she stayed while the questions came.

It took longer than making an announcement.

It worked better.

Ari asked whether the thing had been making his leg hurt.

“I don’t know,” I said. “The cut was enough to hurt on its own.”

Nell asked whether the wrist panels were the same kind of material.

Dot showed her the casing she’d already examined.

“Not the part this unit inspected. We will keep the other questions separate.”

Dena looked at her bottle lid, then toward the shelters.

“Do we have to give everything back?”

“No,” Luna said.

I watched Dena close her hand round the lid.

There was fear in questions I wouldn’t have thought to ask.

We stayed until more of them had been spoken.

Jory wanted to see the picture of the river.

He looked at the Teeming between Ari and the strip, then at the drawing of the fitted bracket.

“The one in our cave didn’t bring anything like that.”

“That we saw,” I said.

He nodded.

Safi, propped beside him, had been listening with her eyes half closed.

“Could they have left it behind?”

“Possibly.”

She thought about that.

Then said, “When you go back, look at the pods before you look at them.”

I looked at her.

She opened her eyes properly.

“Everyone keeps telling us what the Teeming do. Nobody told us what was under our seats.”

Luna wrote that down.

Not as evidence about the metal.

As a question we owed them an answer to.

That afternoon, we did not collect a sample.

We built a copy of the ordinary bracket from the drawings, with a piece of harmless stone where the dark material would have been.

I made the shape. Sera made me leave the fastenings as separate pieces so someone without my eyes could understand how it came apart.

Risa checked the spacing against the pictures.

Luna kept the parts in order as we removed them.

Nothing snapped open. Nothing sprang outward.

That told us how the frame behaved around a stone.

It did not tell us how the dark piece would behave when freed.

We wrote both facts beside each other.

Old Son came over while the pieces were still laid out.

He examined the copied bracket without reaching for it.

“This unit has fastenings around the core housing,” he said.

I looked up.

“Yes.”

“Removing the housing is not the same as removing the core.”

“No.”

He remained beside the table.

I looked at the ordinary stone in the middle of our copy, then at the picture of the dark fragment.

We’d drawn the outer frame so carefully that I’d almost begun thinking of the thing inside it as another part on the table. Something to expose, examine, understand.

The queen had approached it with a living strand.

“Thank you,” I said.

Old Son turned toward me.

“For what?”

“For reminding me which question we haven’t answered.”

Dot moved one of the drawings nearer him.

“This unit would value another examination of the housing.”

Old Son lowered himself beside her.

They began with the visible joins, leaving the middle of the drawing unmarked.

I left it unmarked too.

Then Sera put the copied frame back together and made me open it using the fastenings instead of changing them away.

“Slower,” she said when I hurried.

I looked at her.

She smiled.

“Yes. You do dislike that word.”

We left the finished copy where the guide could see it if it came that evening.

Not a demonstration promising we’d open the real one tomorrow.

A question made large enough to hold in our hands.

Could we take this apart in that order?

Was that what the queen wanted?

Could it show us what happened next without a child, a medic, or a curious idiot standing beside it?

Luna read the last line in my notes.

“You can leave your title out of the formal record.”

Risa laughed.

I crossed out idiot.

Sera leaned over my shoulder and added person.

“There,” she said. “Something even you might take care of.”

We walked that evening.

Sera and me, along the high path where we’d first sat down to say what we wanted. The same flat stone. The same view of the field, though there were more voices below now and a second board of names beside the scarecrow.

For a while, neither of us spoke about the metal.

She told me Kellan had begun asking questions about cooking with heat instead of only how to stop setting things alight.

I told her Nessa’s new grip had lasted the whole morning without rubbing.

Then we ran out of reports.

Sera turned toward me.

“What do you want tonight?”

I looked at her.

“This.”

She took my hand.

“That’s better.”

When we went back, Luna and Risa were waiting with the unfinished copies of our drawings.

They had put them aside before the food arrived.

We sat together beneath the shelter, close enough that the lamp lit all four faces without anyone leaning into it.

Risa rested her head against my shoulder for a moment. Luna’s knee touched mine. Sera passed the bowl and stole a piece of the food she’d just given me.

I let the quiet last.

Below us, water ran through the channels we’d repaired.

Farther down, the queen kept something in separate hollows and had tried to show us why.

Tomorrow we would bring the copy.

Tonight, I stayed where I was.

Day 443. The other metal.

Guide waiting without a cup.

Objects in separate hollows beside the queen. Dark fragments I can’t see into. Familiar brackets I can.

The queen showed a free piece and one still enclosed. Its strand approached. Light under the surface. Different response from the enclosed piece. Withdrew quickly.

No claim yet about pain or purpose.

Guide pointed from the real bracket to Sera’s drawing. It understands at least that connection.

Dot found similar enclosing frames in images of four new pods. The old lander’s carrier was different but held its central material in a similar way.

No samples brought home. Toby stays clear.

Children can say what they remember. They don’t have to return to wrecks.

Safi: look at the pods before you look at the Teeming.

Built a copy with ordinary stone inside. Learn the frame. Show the queen the order before touching the real one.

Walked with Sera. Ate with all three.

A question can wait overnight without being abandoned.