New to Other-Terrestrial? Check here! Or if you need to, jump to the beginning of the episode here!

---

Apollonia was going to have to leave tomorrow, she knew.

This was her last evening on Earth.  The word itself, ‘evening’, actually had a real meaning to it now.  On station, it was only a term for a part of the day.  Now, in her mind, it was tied to the end.

Idly, she wondered how many other words had just lost their meaning when away from the world that had spawned them.  So many things just forgotten.

It was hard for her to be sad about anymore, though.  She’d been feeling so much, that she was almost numb.

But she was still going to enjoy these last few hours.

For once, wasting an evening did not feel like wasting a precious moment of her life she’d never have back.  For once, she was not simply sitting in limbo, unsure if anything terrible would happen in the next minute, hour, or day.  Security wasn’t going to kick in the door to this cabin, no mob was about to form and come after her.

She wondered why Guilli seemed so unbothered by her.  Perhaps people in the SU just thought differently.  Perhaps the fact that they didn’t live in constant fear made them not react to her odd presence with aggression.

After she left tomorrow, she knew her ease might disappear.  The tribunal for Brooks would begin, and she hated to think that he would have to pay for something that was not his fault.

And the possibility that the seeming perfection that was the Sapient Union might come crumbling down did not escape her.  If they found Brooks guilty of . . . whatever they said he did, they might then look to her.  Maybe she’d find out that they had dungeons, too.

But for the rest of this evening, she didn’t want to think on those things.

It was a cool night out, and she had the blanket wrapped around herself.  She was going to miss its warmth and softness.  She had no idea how expensive they were – or honestly even how money worked in the SU – or how to get one.  But she’d love to have one back on the ship.

“Guilli . . .” she asked.  “How do I get a blanket like this?”

He was writing on a tablet, and merely glanced up.  “You may keep that one.  As a reminder of Earth.”

She sat up.  “Didn’t you say they’re expensive?”

“I said they’re dear,” he said, though she felt sure that had not been his wording.  “But I know the man who makes them, and I can get another.  So, please, take it.”

She leaned back, shaking her head.  “Why are you so nice?” she asked.

“Ah, well you’re a special guest, aren’t you?” he said, smiling.  “And, truly, I like you.  You are not like everyone else, and most of the time you keep to yourself and are quiet.  It is quite pleasant.”

“I’m a special guest?” she asked.  “In what way?”

Guilli suddenly looked awkward, as if he’d been caught in something.  “Well, the only tourist of the season, and an interesting person . . .”

“No,” she said, frowning.  “I don’t think that’s what you meant.”

There was a steel in her voice that she hadn’t even intended.  But she felt a sudden dread that she was being . . . put on, somehow.  That something or someone was manipulating her.

“I . . . was told not to bring up your VIP status,” Guilli said.  “But you seem to have guessed it.”

“I’m a VIP?” she asked, eyes wide.  “Wait, why am I a VIP?”

“I don’t know,” Guilli said.  “But we are all our own VIP, yes?  So that is not very odd.”

She had the feeling he was trying to dance around the question again.

“What else do you know that you’re not supposed to tell me?” she asked.

“You make it sound so bad,” he replied, chuckling.  “But I was given explicit orders by Brooks, my superior, to treat you-“

“You know Captain Brooks?” she burst out.

The man looked confused.  “Captain?  Oh – you must mean her brother.  I am speaking of Maria Brooks.  She is Deputy Director of Ecological Protection.  I was contacted by her a few hours before your arrival and told to make you comfortable.  But truly,” he insisted.  “Take the blanket.  VIP or not, I would be pleased for you to have it.  I understand space is very cold.”  He grinned again.

Apollonia felt very awkward, not knowing what to say.  She felt a keen lack of the social graces she knew she ought to have.

How had Maria Brooks – was she really Brooks’s sister? – have known where she’d been going?  But then she remembered Norton.

Looking to the drone, she realized that she’d asked the drone to take her here.  If everything was as open here as it was on the Craton, then it could have just messaged the woman.

“Thank you, Guilli.  I’m . . . I’m sorry for being so suspicious,” she said.  The words were hard to find, and sounded stilted coming out of her mouth.

“You are quite welcome,” he replied, waving a hand to lighten the air.

“I guess I owe Maria Brooks thanks, too.  Could you tell her that for me?”

“You may tell her yourself,” Guilli said.  “She will be arriving here tomorrow morning, as I understand it.”

“Really?”

“Oh, yes.  It is not that unusual – you are not the only one who enjoys this forest.  I think, as well, that your Captain Brooks will be meeting her here.  I imagine then you and he will leave together?”

“Yeah, I suppose so.  Big important space things,” she said.

Guilli put down his pad and leaned closer.  “So what’s it like up there?  I rarely care to ask.”

“Well, it’s big and empty, of course,” she joked.  But as he stared at her, guileless, she realized it was a serious question.

“Haven’t you been to space?” she asked.

He shook his head.  “No, no.  That is no place for me!  I belong where my feet are on the ground, and that is the end of it.”  He turned to gaze lovingly out the window, but then his eyes slid back over to peer at her.

“But,” he added.  “I admit sometimes I’m curious.”

Apollonia leaned back.  “I think I said I was from a colony far from here, didn’t I?  Well . . . to be honest, it was a real shithole.  But I’ve been to other places, and . . .  Overall, despite how it’s this infinite blackness out there, you spend most of your time in small areas.  I mean, sure, sometimes there are very big chambers.  But almost all of your life is spent in a hallway, in a room about this size, or something like that.”

She let her gaze unfocus, remembering so many rooms, the walls plastic or metal or smoothed stone or some combination thereof.  “I never saw a tree before I came here,” she said.  “In the colonies I grew up in, wood was practically a legend.  I remember one guy who had a tree branch.  It was small and crumbling.  He’d charge people a credit to touch it.  To feel some kind of connection to nature.”

Guilli was quiet for a time, contemplating that.  “It is sad, no?  I have heard of many colonies that sound like amazing, nice places.”

“I just wasn’t in that kind of colony,” she said.  “They’re not all shit.  At least, I don’t think they are.”

“And . . . how does it feel to float?” he asked.

She smiled.  “It feels very normal to me.  Walking in gravity?  Now that feels weird.”

He laughed and picked back up his tablet, but seemed distracted still.

She waited, happy for a silence, happy to just be.

Then he asked.

“I’ll bet you have many interesting stories, don’t you?”

Her face split into a grin.  “Let me tell you about this one guy I knew who thought his brother was a computer . . .”

---

< Ep 4 Part 39 | Ep 4 Part 41 >

New to Other-Terrestrial? Check here! Or if you need to, jump to the beginning of the episode here!

---

When Apollonia awoke, it was early.  Sunlight filtered dimly through windows whose blinds did little to keep it comfortably dark.

“Turn off the lights,” she groaned.

“I humbly submit that I am incapable of dimming the sun,” the drone said.  Norton, she thought.  Yes, he’d be Norton now.

“When did you get a personality?” she grumbled.

“I am a simple AI,” Norton replied.  “But like any being, I take time to open up to a person.”

“Hmph.  Well, what time is it?”

“It is 7:03 AM, local time.”

Seven!  That was too early.  Stupidly early.

But she was already awake and hadn’t Guilli said he’d make breakfast that early?  She should go down to see.

Changing into a fresh, but annoyingly identical to the last, jumpsuit, she left her cabin.

The air was damp, and she looked around uneasily through a haze that seemed to swallow the world.

She knew what fog was, but it was again something new to her.  It was kind of ridiculous how little she knew about all this.  It was all different; the look, feel, smell.  All of it.

This is what humanity had come from . . . and what they’d lost in the stars.  Or at least she had.  Maybe in other systems they still had dirt and trees grew and there was fog.  She didn’t know.

There was so much she didn’t know.

Making her way through the fog was eerie but enjoyable.

The Ranger’s cabin was visible even from her door, and smoke puffed from a squarish block on top, which she thought might be a chimney.  The smoke gave her the creeps; seeing it in a space station was always, always a bad sign.

There was a smell with it, too.  It was not the normal acrid smell she associated with smoke, but almost pleasant.

She knocked.

Guilli called her in, and she entered.

“Good morning,” she said.

“Ah, good morning to you!” he said.  He had a pan over a fire-fueled stove, but she could not see what he was making.  “Please sit down, this will be ready shortly.”

“Thank you,” she said, getting tired of only being able to thank people and not being of much use otherwise.

“I hope I’m not making it hard on you – making me breakfast.”  It was an automatic concern of hers, but she realized after she said it that this was Earth; no one was hungry.  “I mean, it’s a lot of work . . .”

“It’s part of my job!” he said.  “I am expected to make sure the feeding and sheltering of people who come through here happens.  If it were many?  Well, that happens only sometimes, and if it did you can be assured I would not slave over a stove by myself, making eggs!  No, I’d have drones do that.  But you are just one, and I need to eat also, so making just a little extra that can fit in the pan is no trouble!”

She felt humbled by his kindness, and couldn’t think of much to say as he finished and plated the meal.

Putting her dish in front of her, she found herself staring at something she did not quite understand.

“What is this?” she asked.

“Scambled eggs!  Laid fresh this morning, my friend.”  He grinned, and then ate some.

Carefully poking a yellow clump with her fork, she thought they looked so different from the eggs she’d had before – well, egg-flavored dishes.  Why bother to grow a whole egg in space, let alone have a chicken lay them, when you could just grow some genetically-altered algae to vaguely have the shape and flavor of egg?

Taking a bite, she was surprised at the depth of flavor.  Would the Craton have eggs just as good?  She hadn’t tried.  Hadn’t even considered.

Or was this just something one could only truly experience if they lived on Earth?

She ate, trying to savor every bite.  There was a pale cheese grated over top that blended perfectly with the egg.

When her plate was empty, she wished for more, but knew she ought to stop.

“I can give your drone the local map,” Guilli said.  “You are free to travel anywhere within a two-kilometer area – plenty of space.  Beyond that, we hope to leave nature as undisturbed as possible.  No person is to go in, save a Ranger like myself – and only on a rare occasion.  You understand, yes?”

“Yes,” she said.

“Good, then once you feel like it, you may set off.  Do not worry about the bears around here – they are fat and lazy, much like me.  They have accepted me as one of them, so they will not bother you.  That, and they don’t like drones.”

She chuckled, and wondered if Norton had told the man of her concern.

Guilli busied himself cleaning up and then went to a desk to look at his pad.  It was an odd juxtaposition seeing a computer and other equipment just as complex as she might see on any starship here in his rustic cabin.

Taking his business as a sign she should leave, she went out into the sun, seeing that the fog had all dissipated.  Norton buzzed up to her unobtrusively.

“Where would you like to go?” he asked her.

“I don’t know,” she said.  “Let’s just go explore.”

---

She spent the day out in the woods.  Tumbling down slippery ditches, every exposed bit of her getting scratched from sticks and rocks, getting unexpected bites from small insects that buzzed in her face.

But also seeing trees even larger and grander than any she’d seen before, finding a gurgling stream with tiny cute fish in it, seeing dragonflies dancing in the air (and cheering them on as they devoured the mosquitoes).

It was a marvellous time.

The hours seemed to pass in a haze, and she stopped many times.  Once to eat another meal bar she’d brought, the rest just to stop and look at what was around her.

Once, sitting on a log, she saw a tiny mouse busily dragging off some kind of seed pod.  It paid her no mind, and she just watched it, feeling an emotion she could not really affix to words.

By the time she returned to the Ranger station, the sun was just beginning to dip over the horizon.

The cabin was puffing smoke again, and through the window she saw a flurry of activity.

“Should I check in?” she asked Norton.  “He looks busy.”

“I believe he is cooking,” Norton said.  “And you are welcome for dinner.”

“Oh!” she said.  Knocking, she heard him call for her to enter.

Going in, the cabin smelled delicious.  She hadn’t smelled anything like it before; the scents were both foreign and familiar, and made her mouth water.

“What are you making?” she asked.

“Chicken!” he called back.

She nodded and sat down.  She’d had plenty of chicken in space.  It was one of the more popular cuts, and she liked it much more than the greasy mess that was duck, or the fishiness of capybara.

When he placed the chicken on the table, though, it . . . didn’t look right.

She glanced to him, but he looked so sure of himself, not bothered at all.

The Chicken was so much thinner than any whole chicken she’d ever seen.  It was . . . lumpy.  The spices were spread in a way that looked off – uneven, with larger bits she didn’t recognize.

“Thank you,” she said, feeling herself lock up inside, fearing rudeness to a man who had been so kind.

He cut a leg and offered it to her, giving himself the other, with a wing.  “You may have more as well, if you wish!” he added, and pushed a bowl of leaves at her.

They were all green, and she stared, unsure what to make of them.  Did she . . . eat them?

“It’s a salad,” he said.  “Ah, of course, you don’t eat those in space colonies, hmm?  Not efficient enough to merely grow leaves!  Well – consider it an Earth specialty.  The leaves all taste good.  We drizzle a bit of oil mixed with vinegar, use some leaves of a more flavorful nature – this has mint I picked today in it – and eat it.  Try it, I hope you will enjoy it.”

She nodded, and took a bite, surprised how tough they were to chew through.  The flavor was intense, and she forced herself to swallow it.  She had to take a smaller bite next time, that was for sure.

He was looking at her, smiling easily, as if he had not a care in the world.  Curious to see what she thought of the chicken.

She picked up the strange-looking leg.  The compressed blobs of meat forced onto plastic or pseudo-wood frames were one of her favorite dishes she’d gotten to eat on Vitriol.  Rare, prized.

Could the real thing really stand up?

And she’d never eaten a thing that had once been alive.  At least, not moving around where she could see it.  She was terrified to think that hours ago, this had been a clucking bird.

But Guilli’s eyes were still watching her.

So she took a bite.  It was delicious.

---

< Ep 4 Part 38 | Ep 4 Part 40 >

New to Other-Terrestrial? Check here! Or if you need to, jump to the beginning of the episode here!

---

The Ranger introduced himself as Guilli Santiago, and for the first time when she had tea, she enjoyed it.

Something about the man set her very much at ease.  He was adorably pudgy, something she did not quite understand, given the nature of his work, and his smile never seemed to fade.

“I have been a Ranger in these parts for all of thirty years, plus or minus a few,” he said.  “I have lost both the ability and care for tracking time as man reckons it.  All I care to know is the trees and the bears and the thickets.”

Apollonia sipped her tea.  She could not say why, but the flavor seemed to taste better to her than what she’d had before.

“That seems a little lonely,” she commented.

“Nonsense!  I may lack for conversation, but there are more trees than even I could ever get to know,” he said.  “Every one a unique thing, in its own way.  And also one – each tree entwines its roots around its neighbors, and in this way they all work together to hold up the entire forest.  How could I feel lonely in such a place?”

He smiled, and gazed out the window.

“Though they are fewer than they were in the past, they are resilient.  This grove survived all of the disasters that came – missed by raining debris, surviving the cold and the temperature swings and all the chaos.  How, I cannot know.  The strange hand of fate was involved, surely.  But they are here, and so I am here.”

Apollonia looked back out, wondering if perhaps something like this would bring her peace as well.  She truly did not know enough to say.

“You were born in the colonies?” he asked.  “Far from Earth?  You have that look.”

“Yes,” she said.  “A very shitty place, very far away.  I don’t know if this kind of thing makes the news, but – the Begonia system.”

“I do not pay attention to such things.  I know the stars in the sky at night, but I give them different names than most.”

“I’ve never seen anything like this.  Not even a terraformed world.  Not even . . . a tree.  Before today.”

“That is why you looked at them with such reverence,” he surmised.  “I saw that mania sparkle in you, just as it does in me.”

She drank more of her tea, and he served her more, and they said little more for some time, merely enjoying the air and the forest outside, and the lack of need for conversation to fill a meaningful void.

“So what is it you want to do, Ms. Nor?” he finally asked her.  “I imagine you are thinking of staying.  Many who come here do.”

“Is that an option?” she asked.

“That is not up to me.  If it was, I might let you.  You I’d consider more than most.”

“I suppose I’d have to have skills for the forest,” she said.  “But to be honest, gravity is actually something I’m not that used to.  The first colony I was at had it, but not the second.”

“So you moved between different colonies?  In the same system or . . . ?”

“Same.  And it wasn’t really planned, I was . . . banished from the first.”

“Oh heavens.  Why?”

“They didn’t like me,” she replied flatly.  It was bothering her how little people seemed bothered by her since getting to Earth.  “Surely you feel it?  People don’t like my presence.  I’m a weird person, apparently.”

“Something about you seems very foreign, very different,” Guilli replied.  “Perhaps if I was also frightened and hungry and angry because I had never seen a tree, it would cause me to dislike you.  But I’m not, and I don’t, and so you are just another person – more interesting than most, from farther away than most.  And you are welcome here, so long as you respect the forest.  This world belongs to all of humanity, wherever they may be born.”

Apollonia felt an unexpected warmth blossom in her chest, and she couldn’t think of anything to say.  So she didn’t say anything, merely giving the man a nod that contained all those thoughts she could not put into words, and then finished her tea.

“There is a guest room outside.  I can give you the access, and you can stay until you must return to space.  That is what I can offer you, and I hope it’s enough.”

She nodded again, finding her voice dry.  “That’s more than enough,” she said.

---

Apollonia went back outside to sit in nature until the light began to fade.

She was surprised at how fast the temperature dropped; before long she was shivering, the chill seeming bad to her.

Guilli came out and threw a cloak over her, a weirdly thick and fluffy thing.

She touched it, surprised at the softness, as he bade her follow him.

“What is this?” she said.

“It’s wool,” he told her.

She stumbled over the uneven ground.  She’d walked on plenty of uneven lumpy stone floors, in the rotation chambers of Vitriol.  It was considered good for the balance to learn how to handle uneven surfaces.

But she’d never felt lumpy ground that had give.  And branches.

“What’s wool?” she asked.

“It’s the fur of an animal called an alpaca,” he said.  “Not far from here are ranches that raise them.  It is a luxury item for most.  But not for me, as I have friends there.”  Even in the dark she could see his bright-white teeth flash.

Taking her to her cabin, he shooed off some tiny crawling creatures with a gentle reverence, and showed her how to operate various things she might need.

“I will make breakfast tomorrow at 7.  I hope you will join me.  Good night, Ms. Nor.”

After he left, she flopped back onto the bed.  Her drone buddy flew near her, and she realized she’d forgotten the name she’d given him earlier.

It hadn’t been Pierpont.  But she was going to call him that now.

“Pierpont,” she said.  “Could you bring me a meal stick?”

“I can do that,” the drone said.  “But if you’d like, I could also get you some porridge or hot-“

“A meal stick is fine,” she said.  All of this stuff was wonderful.  But she kind of wanted something familiar at the moment.

The drone brought her the stick, wrapped and sealed in a thin foil, and she ate it distractedly.  They didn’t taste like much; vaguely nutty.  Or at least what she thought nuts tasted like.

The forest was amazing, but in a way she felt strangely hollow.  As if her emotions had been drained and she was just . . . empty.

Maybe that’s what happened when you achieved what you wanted your whole life?  There was nothing left to hope for, so everything was just left feeling lesser by comparison.

Or maybe, she thought, she was truly realizing for the first time just how shitty her own life had been.  She’d been seeing it constantly, and in a bizarre way she wanted to go back to the comfort of no one caring about her and no one expecting anything from her.

Her mind roved to recent events, things she hated to remember but now couldn’t resist.

Michal Denso, Verena, Medical Station 29 . . . Kell.  What he had done, what she had tried to do.

Those things felt so unreal, her entire life prior to this moment felt so unreal, that she almost felt dizzy.

Or was this the unreal part?  Maybe she had never even left New Vitriol, and she’d just finally given into the horrible urge to take mindshots.  This was all a hallucination, and in reality there was no Dr. Y, no Brooks or Craton or Guilli Santiago.  She was in a gutter, imagining it all to forget her reality.

Her hands clutched reflexively, and she felt the wool blanket under her fingers.  The tactile sensation calmed her, and she looked around the room, seeing that it was real.  It felt real, it smelled real, and these things reassured her.

She pulled the wool blanket more tightly around herself.  Maybe the efficient foil blankets she’d always known were better.  Certainly smaller.  But they didn’t feel as nice as this.

Why the hell was this guy so nice?

She found her paranoia rising, and was tired of fighting it down.

“Pierpont,” she asked the drone.  “If I was attacked by someone, would you help me?”

“I am a Park Ranger Assistant model 73-9,” it said.  “I am equipped with a blinding strobe and electro-dart that can discourage an attacking bear.”

“So yes,” she said.

“That is correct.  But no one is going to attack you, Ms. Nor.”

“Maybe not,” she decided.  “But I still like to know.”

She sat up suddenly.  “Did you say you can ‘discourage’ a bear?”

“Yes,” the drone replied.

“What’s a bear?” she asked.

“It is a large animal endemic to this region.  They are not generally hostile, so you need not be concerned.”

“Wait, were they out there when I was?” she asked.

“Yes, this is their natural environment.”

Taking out her tablet, she looked up an image of a bear.  She’d seen teddy bears, but she hadn’t known they were an actual animal.

The real thing was not as small and cute, she realized.  Then she looked at how big they could get.

“Dark!” she spat.  She’d never been . . . well, in a place with animals.  And never imagined she could be in a place where things that big could just be wandering about!  What if they saw her and thought she seemed like an exotic snack?

Could a little drone really keep one away?

Part of her knew that her tiredness was making her paranoia run rampant.

“What about newts?  Are those really a thing?” she asked aloud, though she could have looked it up.

“Yes,” Pierpont told her.

“Do they live around here?”

“Yes.”

“And frogs?”

“Frogs have been extinct in this region for nearly six hundred years.”

“That’s sad.  What about hawks?”  She’d never seen a real bird.  Only some animatronic models.

“Many kinds.”

“Name them for me?”

Pierpont began to list types of birds, patiently starting with the American Robin before moving down the list alphabetically.

His voice was soothing, and she realized he was gradually getting quieter.  Lulling her to sleep.

She let herself drift off, smiling just a little.

---

< Ep 4 Part 37 | Ep 4 Part 39 >

New to Other-Terrestrial? Check here! Or if you need to, jump to the beginning of the episode here!

---

The bullet train took only six hours to carry her to 40 degrees north.  The train was lined in giant windows, letting her see everything with her actual eyes instead of just through a screen.

Along the way she saw coastlines gradually moving from tropical to desert to temperate before turning into coastal forests.  Out the other side she saw ocean and more ocean.

It fascinated her, though.  They moved too fast to study the nearby waves, but the ones out in the distance of the Pacific ocean still captured her attention almost as much as the changing scenery of the coastal side.

A lot of people were on the train, mostly Earthers, she guessed.  They had a slightly different walk, she noticed.

Perhaps living in gravity your whole life made you walk a bit different, wore on the bones more and made them sag in some ways and hold themselves higher in others.

She felt suddenly and oddly glad that she had grown up in the colonies.

As they went North, more and more people got off.  After New Angeles, most were gone.  There were still people aboard, but only a fraction of the original number.

And when they arrived at her stop, she was the only one getting off.

Looking around, noticing her solitude, she stepped out and into a clean, but empty station.

Beauford – who had switched yet again, she thought, this time noticing the point at which another drone smoothly came in and took his place – guided her forward.

Everything was spotless, and the whole station was very small.  No signs advertised local specialties or activities, only basic things like bathrooms and lodging.  It was like they never expected to have many people passing through this particular stop.

There was an odd smell in the air, and she beckoned Beauford to follow her as she found her own way, following that scent.

It was fresh and pleasant, but tickled her nose in an odd way.

Finding steps – steps!  No ramps, no escalators, but honest to goodness steps! – she went up them, to a set of double doors that opened smoothly and quietly for her.

She found herself in a dreamland.

The trees dwarfed her in a way she’d never believed possible.  If there were a dozen others with her they could not have encircled the base of the tree.

They seemed to reach into the sky itself, so high that she had to crane her neck all the way back to even see the tops, silhouetted against a cloudy sky, only slightly visible through their boughs.

Like the Earth itself raising praise to the heavens.

She felt a stinging in her eyes as she beheld the forest, so much greater than even in her dreams, and felt her knees grow weak.

Apollonia let herself fall, first to her knees, then her elbows, digging her fingers into the dark soil.

It was a sensation she’d never felt before; to touch the Earth.  It was damp and clung to her, and she laughed, tears now streaming down her face.

There was a smell to it, a dankness that nevertheless spoke of life and something that she’d never known; a balance.

It was probably all just her own projections, her own hopes and fears and thoughts that she’d had her whole life, but kept buried.

But right now, she didn’t care.  This was magic, this was the best thing in her short and miserable life, and suddenly all of those terrible things seemed to pale in comparison to this single moment.  This single touch with something so infinitely alive and true to herself.

Raising her head again, she beheld the trees, a lifeform that was larger than anything she’d ever seen.

Clambering to her feet, she moved closer and touched the bark.  It was softer than she expected, and had give.  Almost spongy, she thought.  And thick!  Some of the crevasses in the bark she could almost have crawled into.

The thought went briefly through her mind, when she heard someone clear their throat.

She turned, seeing a tall man with a broad grin on a broad face.  It looked even broader still from the heavy black beard that covered his face.  His skin was tanned, and his shoulders and belly were also wide, in a way she never really saw in spacer folk.

“Don’t let me stop you if you want to touch the tree,” he said.  “Lord!  Few enough come around anymore.  I usually tell them not to touch the trees, but for you I will make an exception.”

“Why me?” she asked, instantly liking the man but still not fully willing to give up her suspicion.

“Not enough come for the touches to break down the bark.  And you look like it means a lot more to you.”  He tilted his head curiously.  “What made you come here of all places?  There are many carefully-cultivated garden forests rising.  But here . . .”  He grinned.  “Not many amenities.  And not many people.”

“I suppose I like that.  And the fact that it’s not manicured.”

He nodded, accepting that.  “When you’re done, come to the ranger station next to the stairs.  I’ll put on tea.”

He turned to walk away, and she watched him go for a moment, before looking back to the tree.

She touched the bark lightly, trying to be gentle.  Could a person’s touch really hurt it, if there were enough of them?  It seemed hard to imagine.  But if thousands or millions of people did it enough times . . .

“We’ve kind of made it hard enough on you, haven’t we?” she said to the tree.  It wasn’t going to answer back, of course, but she still gazed at it longingly for a time, before turning.

She began to head towards the Ranger Station, but on a whim she stopped, and took off her shoes and socks.  Twigs poked at her, and it felt squishy.

But now, happily barefoot, she continued on.

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< Ep 4 Part 36 | Ep 4 Part 38 >