Shades Of Forever

After the clan leaders take a ten minute break to compose themselves (and Butterfly Builder cleans off his pants in a nearby stream), we gather once again under the forest canopy. Broom is the first to speak.

"So, are we all in agreement that Sky is almost certainly telling the actual truth about the events of the past twenty four hours, and not just something fervently believed?"

A chorus of hasty assents fills the air, Butterfly still fidgeting with his trousers. Broom smiles.

"Good." She looks at Chief Engineer MacWillie, her smile vanishing between one breath and the next. "Now, outsider Chief Engineer MacWillie, I would like you to explain what you meant about 'our village isn't safe.'"

Chief Engineer MacWillie sighs, then points at Window Doctor.

"It's him, and your 'trees.'"

The way she says 'trees' makes me think she thinks they're something else, but she's already continuing.

"And probably some other weird shit this place does that me and the lad haven't stumbled across yet. What you did, the way you healed me..." she draws in a breath, "there are corpos out there that would glass this entire planet to keep or kill that kind of knowledge. Bloody hell, they'd singularity-bomb the entire system, even if it is the birthplace of us all." She drags a hand across her face, trying to compose herself. When she looks back up, her eyes are hard. "And they're gonna come looking, now that the Old Man's ship is dangling from a mountain-top for all to see. A Wutan-Weylan infiltration deep in Voidhome space coupled with an Entity incursion isn't going to go overlooked, especially when everyone's already searching for the prototype."

She points at me, and I try not to flinch.

"We beat the cruiser-" I begin in a determined tone, but Chief Engineer MacWillie cuts me off.

"Aye, so you did, putting aside the sustainability of your methods for the moment. That was one ship. Wutan-Weylan has a thousand more just like it. The Voidmarch has double that. Hypertron has battle moons. If they get even a sniff of what this forest can do, let alone that this is your home, there won't be aught left of this place but smoke and cinders and survivors in chains, and that's the best case. The corpos will tear each other apart over what's here."

"But it's just medicine," I say angrily, trying not to get upset with Chief Engineer MacWIllie. She's not a bad person. "Why do these 'corpos' care so much?"

"Because non-causal healing is something they've been searching for for a very long time, Sky," she replies evenly. She turns to Window Doctor. "You, the healer." He looks at her questioningly. "What you did to me, that 'as above so below' hoodoo shit; could you use it to reverse the effects of cell aging? Make someone young again?"

Window Doctor sucks in air like Chief Engineer MacWillie just punched him in the stomach.

"You are talking about proscribed knowledge that would shame any Doctor who-"

She slices a hand through the air, cutting him off.

"I'm not asking if you would, I'm asking if you could." Her eyes harden, and an air of menace fills her voice. "A crew of the hardest, evilest voidbastards you'd never wish to lay eyes on, holding your entire village and those trees to the torch. Skullfucking the eyesockets of the screaming children. Could you do it?"

I growl at MacWillie's sudden hostility, but Window Doctor seems to wilt, looking at the other clan leaders, then down at the ground. When he speaks, his voice is filled with sadness, and he seems to age twenty years before my eyes.

"...I could, even though it would lead to nothing but pain. It was tried before. Once. The village almost perished. It took us hundreds of years to recover. No one is meant to live forever."

"And that's what I'm speaking of." Chief Engineer MacWillie's voice returns to its previous gentle cadence. "Right now, no one knows you're here but me and the lad. Assuming this is Earth, and I haven't got much left to challenge that assumption based on your lack of integrators, it's what's protected you all this time. The reality left over from the first Entity means no one wants to explore the planet until it's reclaimed, and the Voidmarch ain't finishing that job anytime in our lifetimes." She snaps her fingers. "Unfortunately, the Old Man decided to make this personal, which means now a whole lot of folks have a whole lot of reasons to look here, despite the risk, and if they learn you have non-causal healing, they will raze you to the bedrock and take it."

"Why are you telling us this, outsider Chief Engineer MacWillie?" Great Grandpa Axe's voice is soft, but a dangerous light glitters in his eyes as he looks from her to Huckens. "Aren't you risking both your lives?"

Chief Engineer MacWillie bares her teeth.

"Aye, you could kill me and the lad, at a price, but that wouldn't stop the looking. All the corpos want what's inside Sky," she points at me, "and even were you to stake that body out on some hilltop somewhere, there's still the matter of the Old Man's ship on that mountain. The Voidmarch is going to want to know if there are any Wutan-Weylan infiltrators running around, which means they'll be taking an electron-tunneling microscope to the entire surrounding area real soon, which means they find the people living in this forest eventually. A planet's a big space, but it's not so big you can hide forever." She pauses, looking around at the upset clan leaders. "I'm telling you this because you dragged me back from the reaper's scythe, and a blood debt isn't something a MacWillie forgets."

"Villages can move," Needle Crafter proclaims defiantly, but her voice is uncertain, and Chief Engineer MacWillie seizes on it.

"Aye, but can you move quickly? We don't know when the Voidmarch will start looking, but by my guess it'll be in the next week or two. Maybe sooner."

"You sound as if you're tying your fate to our own," Stove Mind says into the silence, adjusting her glasses atop her button nose, expression narrowed. Chief Engineer MacWillie grins mirthlessly.

"That I am for now, lass, me and the lad both," she looks at Huckens for confirmation and he replies with a firm nod. "Neither of us are prepared to make a run from the hounds, let alone a run on Earth, but-" she smiles, perfect teeth gleaming, "I figure we have considerations we can offer each other."

"And what would these 'considerations' be?" Broom asks, stepping in front of the other clan leaders, hands threateningly empty. "What can you offer us that we don't already have? What reason do we have to upend our entire way of life by admitting you to the village? Sky is one of us, but we don't know you two at all."

I see Dirt and Torch taking positions to complete the killing triangle in my peripheral vision, and try not to let my nervousness show. This was supposed to be a simple meeting before we returned to the village for lunch. If Chief Engineer MacWillie notices the encirclement, she doesn't let it show.

"Why, the expertise of two of the finest space dogs the Galactic Diaspora's ever had the pleasure of conscripting, of course," MacWillie smiles even wider, acting like we're all friends relaxing on top of Watchers Hill as the stars dance overhead. "And if that doesn't wet your whistle, well, me and the lad here are no strangers to hard work for little pay. Story of our lives so far, and may the never-god strike me dead if I'm not speaking truth. I've no love for Wutan-Weylan, nor any of the other corpos. On my name as a MacWillie."

Tension sings through the air, distrust hanging like a noxious mist, so alien to everything I'm used to, and it's suddenly more than I can bear. I step into the middle of the confrontation.

"Why are we doing this?" I ask the clan leaders bluntly, focusing my attention on Broom. "I told you that Chief Engineer MacWillie and Huckens saved the village. If they're telling us we're not safe, why aren't we listening? Why aren't we bringing them back for food and shelter, planning what steps we need to take next to protect us all?"

"The words of a child," Butterfly Builder scoffs, and I whirl towards him, amazed at my own audacity. It's incredible how confronting my own mortality so recently has opened my eyes to what's important and what's not. Being a clan leader means nothing if he can't think.

"Do you want to clean your pants a second time, Butterfly? I said we can trust them!"

His face reddens, unintelligible epithets struggling to make their way past his lips. Broom shifts imperceptibly, and I scythe out a limb behind my back, low and fast, knowing that Dirt is taking advantage of the distraction to creep up on us. Sure enough, my limb makes contact, and he tumbles to the floor, laughing the whole way down, and Torch freezes on the opposite side. The assembled leaders of the village flinch from the brief flash of bone-white segments, Butterfly most of all. The air falls still, quiet except for Dirt's odd mirth.

"I told you, Broom," Dirt giggles, making no move to rise from the ground, "this is our Book. I will not fight. There is nothing to learn there but death." He makes a negating gesture at Torch, still tensed with her hands tucked behind her back. "Relax, Torchie. This will not come to blood. Besides, you cannot win."

Torch glares at him, but slowly settles into a crouch, poking at the ground with a knife. In front of me, Broom glowers, then suddenly relaxes into a more casual posture.

"You truly trust them, Sky?" she asks me conversationally. "These outsiders? You would protect them, leaving your back unguarded?" It takes me a second to process the mental whiplash.

...your Idiots could give the elite combat units of the galaxy a serious challenge. That is some scary mental flexibility.

"...this was a test?" I snarl at Broom, focusing everything I have on not manifesting my limbs again.

"Melty rocks are everywhere, Sky." She smiles at me with genuine emotion even as she lets her hands fall away from empty spaces my vision is screaming red threat zones at. "That's what it means to be part of our clan. Life is a test until you find one you fail. If you say that the outsiders won't harm the village, then I believe you. You've earned that." She raises her voice. "The Idiots allow them entry."

"Memoriam allows them entry," Great Grandpa Axe says quietly. The other clan leaders look at each other, weighing glances passing back and forth. Finally, Stove Mind steps forward.

"Mind allows them entry. I haven't detected any behaviors of falsehood in their account."

I wince. I forgot to warn Chief Engineer MacWillie and Huckens never to lie to Stove, or any of the other Minds, or anyone at all, really. Little ones learn that lesson very early. The only path to a healthy mind is being honest, both with yourself and others, and the Mind clan takes their responsibilities seriously. It's impossible to lie to them.

"Crafter allows them entry," Needle says next, eyeing the strange black clothes avariciously.

"Breeder allows them entry. More genes will be welcome. I'm still not speaking to Sky for a week, though."

One by one the remaining clan leaders indicate their agreement, until it's only Butterfly Builder left. He scowls unhappily, running a hand through his short brown hair, then lets out a long sigh.

"Builder allows them entry. I trust the rest of you."

I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding and look at Broom.

"So it's fine? They can come to the village?"

"Yes, but there is something more important we must discuss first. Dirt is right. You have the potential to equal Book, and might even surpass her. We are entering perilous times. Someone must lead the village through them."

Great Grandpa Axe nods next to her, his face sad. My knees go weak when I realize what she's suggesting.

"But... that's your jobs!" I'm reeling. To be compared to Book Idiot, the original savior of the village when the stars returned? Lead everyone to safety? "I'm not qualified to lead anyone at all!"

"You are the only one qualified," Broom disagrees firmly. "The things you have described, what outsider Chief Engineer MacWillie tells us about these greater dangers - we cannot even look upon them without falling."

Chief Engineer MacWillie steps up beside me.

"Aye, with no integrators to protect you, a single non-causal squad could take this entire place."

"Three squads," Dirt interrupts politely from his prone position. He's bundled up his cloak as a pillow, hands interlaced behind his head as he relaxes. "Idiots are used to strange things." Chief Engineer MacWillie looks over at him, then barks out a quick laugh.

"Aye, three squads then. They'd likely bring more."

"Mmm, probably. Smart of them."

I glance at the other clan leaders, hoping someone will call Broom out on her nonsense, but they're all nodding in agreement, even Butterfly. I give Great Grandpa a beseeching look.

"Great Grandpa, I'm not prepared for this! It's too much responsibility!"

He beckons me to come closer, and takes my hand in both of his own as I kneel next to his chair.

"None of us are prepared, Sky. This new world that has appeared, it is not one the rest of the village can step out into, not yet. Like Book, it falls on your shoulders to find a way for us to reach that point." His eyes grow misty. "I wish it were anyone else. This is unfair to ask of you. Yet ask it we must." He pats my hand. "Just know, Sky, that we will always be here to support you, help guide you. We need you to lead us there, but you won't have to do it alone."

I gulp, a terrible ache in my stomach and throat. I just wanted to be a Memoriam. Study the past. Stare at the sky and wonder what glorious, unimaginable things were out there. Live a peaceful life in the village until my time came to rest beneath a tree.

"...okay. I'll do my best, Great Grandpa."

He pats my hand one more time, raising me to my feet.

"That's all we can ask, my darling Sky."

My stomach grumbles embarrassingly loud, and I blush. Behind me, Chief Engineer MacWillie's and Huckens' do the same. Broom claps her hands.

"And on that note, we should head back to the village for some food."

She wheels Great Grandpa's chair around and we set off under the trees as a group, the clan leaders chatting quietly among themselves about what not being the last humans left alive means for us and the village, peppering Chief Engineer MacWillie with questions about what things are like out in the galaxy and how integrators work, Dirt and Torch escorting us with their customary alertness. Huckens falls into pace beside me, a curious expression on his face.

"So, your village, what's it like, then?"

I spend the next half an hour telling him about the treehouses, our residential buildings spiraling up around the towering boles of our oldest forest giants; the long sheds of the Builders, where fire and metal meet in pounding clangs; the airy aeries of the Crafters, perched up in the lower boughs nearby, easily accessible through cleverly counter-weighted lifts; the shrines of the Saints, beautiful in their carved facades, prosaically functional in their purpose; the winding heights of the Memory Shrine and the Idiot Archive, repositories of centuries of knowledge; the delicious smells of the Bakeries and their attached darkfern farms; the rushing flow of Book's Lament, the broad river cutting through the northern third of the village, separating the tanneries and curing sheds from everyone else; the solid length of Book's Triumph that bridges the river, a hollowed tree trunk that spans both banks and still grows tall overhead; the crabroach pens, half-submerged, half-fenced in by the semi-circle of silk harvesting stations along that part of the riverbank; the central square, where everyone meets for communal events and celebration days; the winding path that leads up to Watchers Hill, where the Beginning clouds lifted and we saw the stars again for the first time; and so much more.

He interrupts occasionally to question what an unfamiliar word means, but other than that he's content to take it in with wide eyes and eager ears. I catch Chief Engineer MacWillie veering closer at times to listen in too, though she's usually dragged away by another query from the clan leaders asking her to explain yet another marvel of the outside world. Part of me wants to pay attention to that conversation instead, but Huckens is so enthralled by my descriptions that I'm easily able to brush it aside. There will be plenty of time for me and Chief Engineer MacWillie to exchange stories later.

Eventually we reach the first signs of civilization, a pair of muscular women covered in dirt stacking large cubes of dark clay on a handcart. They're outside the small shack that indicates entrance to the Undermine, our only supply of ores and metal, and they raise a hand in greeting as we draw near - Onyx and Alabaster Miner, lifepartners for as long as I can remember. I raise my hand to return the greeting, and then Onyx drops her half of the current load they're hoisting, nearly smashing Alabaster's toes. She walks over to us as if in a daze, her eyes fixed on Chief Engineer MacWillie and Huckens, ignoring Alabaster's curses as she trails behind.

"Butterfly," Onyx calls out as she draws closer, feet stumbling slightly as if she's had too much shimmerfruit ale, "who are they?" Alabaster's curses fall silent as she notices the same thing as her partner - Chief Engineer MacWillie and Huckens, clearly different in their tattered strange black clothing. Butterfly Builder clears his throat importantly.

"We are-"

"We're not alone!" Onyx and Alabaster both scream, jumping up and down like teenagers instead of the middle-aged-creeping-towards-gray-haired women they are. They dance a circle around each other and then barrel ahead of us towards the village proper in a full-bore sprint, yelling with glee as they run, arms waving wildly. I snort, then let loose with a full-throated cackle of laughter, caught up in their enthusiasm. Around me, the clan leaders start doing the same, all of us acting like little ones, even Butterfly. A surge of enthusiasm rushes through the group and we start chasing them, Great Grandpa Axe's wheeled chair bouncing up and down along the path as Broom pushes him but he doesn't even care, his wrinkled face alight with glee, blankets flapping behind like wings. More villagers start appearing, pouring out of the trees towards us, alerted by Onyx and Alabaster, and we're soon surrounded by gaping faces shining with elation, Chief Engineer MacWillie and Huckens the center of a whirlpool of attention. Still we careen onwards, gathering more people by the second, bubbling cheers growing by the second into roars of jubilation.

In all the terror of the last day and a half, I haven't really processed how much our world has changed. How happy it makes me feel to see Chief Engineer Macwillie and Huckens' bewildered expressions. Faces I've never seen before.

We're not alone.