Then she thought of Ben, and his body buried in the earth. Was this seen as a gift, or an assault? It seemed the natural thing to do – ashes to ashes, dust to dust – but they didn’t come from this world. Was their dust of a different nature? Is that what the planet was railing against? Their very nature?

  She looked deep into the blackness of the cave, as if that represented the unknowable depths of the thing they faced. Perhaps it was just scared, she mused. Confused. Fear of the unknown. If they could somehow communicate with it. Let it know they were not a threat, and that they would leave if they could. But perhaps they were a threat. Perhaps their very presence had in some way upset the natural order, by crashing into it, taking its fruit, breathing its air, and pissing on its trees.

  But how do you talk to a planet?

  ––––––––– ⦿ –––––––––

  Lindy was keen to explore the forest more, to see if she could find more fruits or other edible plants nearby. But Sergei wouldn’t hear of it. ‘You heard the Commander. We have enough food for now.’

  ‘I outrank you, remember,’ she reminded him.

  ‘And I am bigger than you. You stay with me, or I will tie you up if I have to.’

  ‘Promise?’ Lindy teased.

  Sergei grumbled, suppressing a smile. ‘Later maybe. We have work to do.’

  They rolled out the graphene cables and planted the rods to draw power from the earth around the trees, being careful not to scratch the roots in the process. This took a couple of hours. Then it was just a matter of waiting while the forest drip-fed the ship’s batteries. At dusk they would have to pull it all out and stow it back on the ship. Sergei monitored the process closely, but it would take a few hours before they had enough charge to do anything. So, with nothing better to do, and on such a beautiful day, they decided to have a picnic on the grass for lunch, eating berries and boiled jackfruit seeds.

  ‘Do you think she’s right,’ asked Lindy, ‘about the monster being some kind of warning from the planet?’

  ‘No. Is just some beast asserting itself. Dangerous to be sure. Big. But not a monster. More like a bear or elephant or something. Once we have weapons we can find it and kill it. You do not need to worry. I’ll protect you.’

  Lindy smiled. She knew he meant it, but she wasn’t sure if that was any better. A wild animal that size ‘asserting’ itself, was just as scary as an intelligent creature tasked with removing them from the world.

  For now, Lindy cast that from her mind. The world was serenely calm and beautiful as they sat in silence, eating, with nothing to hear but the whisper of a light breeze through the trees. No birds. No distant sounds of civilization. It was as if they were the only two people in paradise. Sergei picked a nearby daisy and placed it behind Lindy’s right ear, then gently kissed her. They lay on the blanket, the grass crunching beneath them, and looked up at the cobalt sky, hand in hand. Suddenly everything was right with the world. The smell of the forest was sweet and crisp (having developed an aroma over the last few days). The light was bright but not blinding. Everything was just … perfect.

  ‘I think we should stay here,’ Lindy said.

  ‘I don’t think we have much choice,’ Sergei said plainly.

  ‘I mean, even if we could go back. Why go back?’

  ‘What about the mission?’

  ‘There is no mission. Not anymore.’

  ‘What about the beast?’

  ‘Like you said, we kill it … if we have to.’

  ‘So, we just … stay? And do what?’

  ‘Live. Start again. Maybe others will come. Maybe not. Would it be so bad, just the two of us? Alone in paradise. Like Adam and Eve?’

  ‘The four of us, you mean,’ Sergei reminded her.

  ‘More genetic diversity that way. We could be the start of a whole new human species. Imagine, generations from now, our ancestors building and farming and living off the land. And we can teach them from the outset how to do it right. To live sustainably. To work with the planet, rather than against it. Not to grow too big or take too much. It’s a chance to get it right. If we lay the right foundations now, just the four of us.’

  ‘I love that you think such a thing is possible,’ Sergei said.

  ‘You don’t think we could do it?’

  ‘I know you could. Maybe I could. Maybe even Ty and Serra. But we cannot control future generations. We will be dead. And they will make their own choices.’

  He was right of course. Sergei’s pragmatism could be annoying at times, but that’s what she loved about him. It grounded her. Still, nothing was ever achieved without big dreams.

  ‘Every big idea’s gotta start somewhere,’ Lindy offered. ‘Why not with us?’

  ––––––––– ⦿ –––––––––

  Ty did not want to go back into the cave, at least not without a weapon. It was unlike him not to want to explore a place, but the thought that the monster may be lurking deep within still worried him. He never wanted to go back inside that cave again. And he would not let Serra go in without him. It was too dangerous. She tried to cajole him into it, because despite her assurances the whole point of this excursion was to go back into the cave and search for water. But he was adamant. Serra was prepared to go in by herself, and got as far as a few steps inside the mouth, but then something told her it was a bad idea. Even with a fading penlight the dark was impenetrable. Forbiddingly black. Terrifying.

  So they left the cave, and instead climbed to the top of the hill where they could finally look out over the forest and back down into the valley. They saw Pioneer in the middle of the open field. A speck of shiny metal on a green and yellow carpet. Turning, they looked out over what lay beyond the valley on the other side of the hills. More forest, and in the distance, a great ocean.

  Nothing but ocean.

  They couldn’t tell if they were on an island, or perhaps the outer edge of a peninsula. There was the cliff-face to the ‘south’, beyond which may have been a sprawling continent, or just more ocean. They would have to climb it to find out, or perhaps follow the shoreline around. Maybe they could build a boat.

  With the cave behind them Ty relaxed and was again thinking of how he could further explore this world. He’d done some sailing in his youth, despite his dread of water, and the ocean seemed calm and still. He was excited again at the possibilities.

  ‘At least we found water,’ Serra joked, seeing nothing but ocean on three sides.

  ‘It could be a freshwater lake,’ Ty suggested, though he doubted it.

  ‘Maybe.’

  ‘Do you want to go down and check it out?’

  ‘Do we have time?’

  Ty checked the invisible watch on his wrist. ‘Sure. We’ve got a few hours before it gets dark.’

  ‘Perhaps we shouldn’t wander off too far without Comms,’ Serra said. ‘They might be worried.’

  ‘They’re probably happy to have the time alone. Sergei can make as much noise as he likes while we’re gone.’

  ‘You don’t mean …’

  ‘Haven’t you heard them? God, you must be a heavy sleeper.’

  ‘I’d rather not think about it.’

  ‘Come on,’ Ty urged. ‘Let’s see if there’s a beach.’ He led the way down the hill. Despite Serra being in command, Ty always took the lead in their relationship, especially when they were alone. And she let him. That was just their dynamic. Sex was different. In bed she tended to take charge, though there were times when Ty would assert himself, and she enjoyed playing a more subservient role. He was, after all, something of a catch.

  The forest thinned out on the far side of the hill, so their passage was easier, but they still had to navigate some steep inclines while finding the safest path down. When they reached the shoreline, they found a gleaming white beach – so white it was blinding; and so smooth and flat it was difficult to see where the sand ended and the water began. It looked as if it had been undisturbed for centuries, certainly no human had ever walked upon it. The water was a still turquoise, as flat as ice. No waves or ripples broke its surface. No foam or rolling swells. It was dead still – like a sheet of blue diamond reaching to the straight horizon. The beach gently hugged the verge of a small inlet, surrounded by patches of short grass and shrubs.

  ‘It looks like Whitehaven,’ Ty said. ‘Remember we went there? That first year.’ The year they met and fell in love. The year they travelled around Australia one sweltering Christmas break from their postings at Pine Gap Space Centre. The same year they had both applied to be part of the Pioneer mission. The year Serra’s life finally changed for the better.

  ‘How does it know?’ Serra mused out loud.

  ‘How does what know?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  Ty took the lead, stepping off the grass and onto the pristine sand. His foot sank into it just a centimetre or so. The sound of the soft crunch skidded across the calm water then skipped off into the distance with each step. It was the first time such a sound had ever been heard on this world.

  Ty looked back at his footprints. They were sharp and stable, the grains holding the impression of his boot’s sole. Like footprints in moon dust, the sand refused to cascade back into the depression, despite being quite dry. Once planted, it was as if the imprint would last forever. Timeless and perfect. He liked the idea of that. His first footprints on this pure white beach lasting for eternity. But then his curiosity got the better of him and he reached down, sliding a palm across one of the prints, just to see how the sand would react. It moved as expected, erasing the footprint, creating a smear in the grains but then, again, holding the form stiffly. As if trapped in time. The sand could only be moved by him and had no volition of its own. It didn’t even stick to his palm.

  ‘This sand is weird,’ he thought aloud.

  Serra scooped up the white sand with both hands and let it pour out through her fingers. It felt heavy yet light at the same time. She could feel the weight of it, but it took no effort to raise it up, as if it might float away at any moment like dust in the wind. As the grains fell from her fingers and landed back on the beach to join their fellows, they formed a mound. But unlike Ty’s footsteps, the grains now tumbled down the side of the mound. They had suddenly learned how to behave like grains of sand. Both individually and collectively as a fluid dynamic.

  Serra took a step and this time, unlike Ty’s first steps, the sand behaved more as expected. Her footprint collapsed partially as the sand that had been pressed to the sides slid back into the hole.

  Ty took another step and now the sand around his footprints also behaved normally. He scooped up some sand and this time a few grains of the dry crystals stuck to the moisture on his hand. ‘What do you make of that?’ he asked.

  ‘It’s learning,’ Serra said.

  CHAPTER 8

  ⦿

  I should point out that I am not an emotional being. I do not know fear. This is not a boast. I do not know love, either, or any of the other myriad of emotions corporeal creature seem to revel in. I am above all that. And yet, trapped within The Separation as I am, there are sensations new to me. Like you, I feel the warmth of the sun, and the chill of the night. I can be hurt and I feel pain. I am alive, after all. More alive than you because I am not a single entity bound to a single form.

  Carve your name into a tree and I smart, though it is a trifle. Crash a spacecraft into my side and the pain is greater. But more than this, I bristle at the transgression. This indignation, I admit, is new to me. As a conscious being, separate from other conscious beings, I find myself obliged to self-preservation and to protect myself from those others. I have never had to consider such a thing before. There has never been an Other. There has only been me. We are not just one river, but many. I must protect myself because those other rivers, those other conscious beings, have the same compulsions. They cannot simply coexist. They must consume or be consumed. This is the fundamental imperative of The Separation. Things grow and die. They evolve and change. We all return to the Ocean in Time, but until then, we must live as emotional beings. We must hold ourselves above all others, until we are once again mingled in death.

  That’s psychotic.

  ⦿ You forget, Ben, I know your thoughts and theirs. I know what you do and why you do it. How you think and feel. You are all very predictable. Driven by emotion, and your emotions are always selfish.

  We are not so egotistical that we think everything is about us.

  ⦿ But you are. That‘s the whole point of The Separation.

  What about Sergei’s feelings for Lindy? He loves her. He wants to protect her. And she feels the same about him. That’s not selfish or egotistical.

  ⦿ We shall see.

  That sounds ominous.

  ⦿ You know how this story ends, Ben. Everyone dies.

  It’s not how you die, but how you live than counts.

  ⦿ That didn’t sound egotistical at all.

  ‘We found an ocean,’ Serra told the others once they were all assembled in the mess for the evening meal.

  ‘Or maybe the edge of the world,’ Ty added. ‘We’re not sure.’

  ‘But no water we can drink,’ Sergei said.

  ‘Not yet.’

  ‘We could desalinate it,’ Ty suggested.

  ‘We’ll need power to do that,’ Lindy responded. ‘To either boil it or fabricate a reverse osmosis system. And I’d want to test it properly first.’

  ‘I have a sample,’ Serra handed her the vial of clear water.

  ‘What about the cave?’ Sergei interjected. ‘Did you find the beast?’

  ‘Is that what we’re calling it now?’

  ‘We didn’t go in the cave,’ Serra said.

  ‘Why not?’ Sergei looked at Ty. ‘You scared?’

  Serra answered. ‘I thought we’d have better luck if we tried somewhere else. We might find a river or something.’

  ‘But you didn’t.’

  ‘No. We found an ocean instead.’

  ‘Which we cannot drink.’ Sergei was being particularly contentious for some reason.

  ‘We’re getting plenty of moisture from the fruit,’ Serra told him. ‘That should be enough for now, yes?’ She turned to their biologist for confirmation.

  Lindy wasn’t listening. She was studying the vial of water. ‘It’s very clean. I need to get my lab working to test it properly though.’

  ‘What about the fruit?’ Serra repeated. ‘Is that enough for now?’

  ‘For now,’ Lindy conceded. ‘We still need to find a water source though.’

  ‘Of course.’ Serra moved on. ‘What about you? How much power did we manage to store?’

  ‘About five percent.’

  ‘How long will that last?’

  ‘Depends what we do with it.’

  ‘Can we charge the rover? Or the robot?’

  ‘Not yet,’ Sergei said flatly. ‘Not if you want to do anything else.’

  For now, they had light, cooking facilities, and could charge a few portable devices. Without the Yatoma Reactor to feed the batteries, the ship’s more power-hungry systems would drain them within minutes.

  ‘I was thinking,’ Serra continued, ‘if we could get them outside, we might be able to use their solar panels to charge them.’ Pioneer and the shuttle both used Yatoma Reactors as their energy source, but the surface rover and robot relied on kinetic and solar energy to charge their systems.

  ‘Won’t work,’ Sergei said bluntly.

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Same reason ship didn’t work. Our electrons are no good.’

  ‘What does that mean?’

  ‘Only reason we can get power from trees is we are using planet’s electrons. I don’t know why it makes a difference, but it does. Solar cells already have electrons built in. They just use photons from sun to get them moving. Won’t work.’

  ‘But the photons will be from here,’ Ty said, ‘and they’re the ones carrying the energy. Maybe that’s enough.’

  ‘Since when did you become engineer?’ Sergei scoffed.

  ‘It’s worth a try, don’t you think?’ Serra said, verbally stepping between them.

  Sergei bit his tongue, then: ‘Waste of time. And waste of energy. But we do have enough to run the small fabricator.’

  ‘Well, that’s good,’ Ty said.

  ‘I have made a weapon.’ Sergei reached under the table and produced a sword – complete with decorative scabbard and belt. This was why Sergei was being so abrupt, he’d been waiting for the opportunity to reveal his creation. It would not have been Serra’s first choice for a weapon, but it wasn’t a bad one. They couldn’t fab anything too complex – the more parts a piece required the longer it took and the more energy it used. Plus, it would then have to be assembled. Firearms were not feasible. They could make the gun, but they lacked the elements necessary to make bullets – namely, gunpowder. And phasers or railguns required power cells.

  ‘You made a sword,’ Ty mocked.

  Lindy was impressed. ‘Were you hiding that under the table all this time?’

  ‘Yes. But is not sword,’ Sergei corrected as he flamboyantly drew the blade out of its scabbard. ‘Is sabre!’ He swung the sabre about, showing it off recklessly. Everyone ducked, despite the arc of the blade being well above their heads. The display ended abruptly as the sabre’s razor edge planted in the low ceiling of the mess.

  ‘Put it away for god’s sake!’ Serra demanded.

  Sergei plucked the sabre out of the ceiling and sheathed the blade, very pleased with himself. ‘Is good, yes? Very sharp.’

  ‘You're not to draw that again unless I say,’ Serra ordered. ‘Are we clear?’

  ‘Is for protection.’

  ‘Are we clear?’ Serra glared.

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘What’s the difference – sword, sabre?’ Ty asked, genuinely curious.

  ‘Very big difference. This is shashka sabre. Cossack blade.’

 

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