THE SILVER STONE WHIPPED past Shulgi’s face. He barely restrained himself from flailing at it with his weapons. In the ditch, mud sloshed.
No - no - no - no - no - no - hamid - wake - up - wake - up - shit - shit - shit.
The monster was gone, but snakelike trails showed it had run across the ditch and squeezed itself into the other half of the egg. It had used the silver stone to distract him, like a dog harrying a lion to let a hunter close in. Clever.
* * *
Hamid woke as they dropped into the downskip. He leaned toward Minh across the skip’s narrow aisle. “You finally looked at my bookmarks,” he said.
Minh pinned him with a narrow squint. “You made equids your focal taxon.”
His eyes went wide; feigned innocence beamed across the cramped skip cabin.
“No, but horses do seem to be a keystone species in this ecosystem.”
“How surprising.”
“That means the client’s project won’t be complete unless horses are strongly represented among the restored species.”
“Even if they start the restoration tomorrow, you’d be long gone before it gets to that point.”
“I don’t need to see it, as long as it happens.” He grinned.
Behind Minh, Fabian was deep in his feeds. She tapped a toe on his knee.
“Are you joining us for this landing?”
Fabian reached under his sunglasses and scrubbed his knuckles over his eyes.
“The site looks good,” he said. “No surprises.”
Minh shot him the feed showing the farmers holding their thumbs and fingers in front of their bellies.
“What does this gesture mean?”
“Superstition. A ward against demons. It’s related to the evil eye.”
“They think we’re evil?”
“Aren’t we?” mumbled Kiki. She was still slumped in her seat, eyes closed.
“No,” Fabian said flatly. “We’re here to do a job and leave.”
“We know that, but they don’t.” Kiki stretched. Her hooves bumped the back of Hamid’s seat.
“Debate this with your time travel ethics tutor,” Fabian said. “Let me know how long it stays interesting. I’m betting ten minutes max.”
Minh’s toes curled into fists. She wrenched herself around in her seat.
“Fabian, are you poaching our research assistant?”
“They grow up so fast,” Hamid said under his breath.
Fabian was unconcerned. “Yell at me later. I’m running health and safety now.”
Minh turned to Kiki. Are you leaving Calgary?
Kiki glared at her. “Oh, are you talking to me again?”
Minh strengthened her grip on the string of test tubes, steadying it against the increasing pressure of their descent.
“Why wouldn’t I talk to you?”
“Your fake has been treating me like dirt ever since the first landing.”
Minh checked her dash. Her fake had been running its default workflow, intercepting and rejecting every attempt at private communication from Kiki.
“I forgot to turn off my fake. An oversight.”
“No, it’s business as usual. I’m just the admin who nags you to approve invoices and review RFPs before the business meeting. I’m no better than a fake, and that’ll never change, no matter how hard I work or how well I do my job. Will it?”
“Can we talk about this later? We’re landing in a minute.”
“Will it?” Kiki pounded her fist on the armrest.
“Now, kids,” Hamid said softly.
Fabian watched them intently, gaze flickering from Kiki to Minh and back again.
Are you enjoying this? she whispered to him. A little drama to make the days go faster?
Minh turned back to Kiki. “I can’t change hab economics. I wish ESSA could give you more work, but we barely stay afloat.”
“You don’t get it, do you? You have no idea why the fat babies are leaving the habs.”
“Things are hard. You’re giving up.”
“We’re giving up? Us?” Kiki leaned across the aisle, straining against her safety restraints as the skip settled into landing position. “No, the plague babies have given up. You used to believe in something, but now all you want to do is service the banks.”
Fabian cracked the hatch. “Cameras up.”
“We’d work for free,” Kiki said. “Every last one of us, to learn what you know.”
“You can’t do that. Calgary’s economy would plummet.”
“You sound like a banker, Minh.”
“I’m not—”
“The economy is an excuse. The truth is, you built the habs for yourselves and created us as pets. We were cute when we were little, but now you don’t know what to do with us. You feed us on scraps.”
“Boots down,” Fabian said.
Kiki shucked her restraints. She paused in the hatchway, backlit by the morning sun.
“You’ve given up on the future. So, when we leave, don’t blame us. Blame yourself.”