The saucer settles softly, hovering an inch above the grass. The hatch opens, and I look longingly at my spear, leaned up against a tree trunk twenty feet away. But Kenz’ox is here.
Dex comes zooming out. “That was fun after years in that basket. This ship appears to fly. I tried some maneuvers, and it held up well. It may be ready to test flying at higher altitudes. The main concern is whether the hull is airtight. I would prefer to be able to fly inside it, which is impossible if the air leaks out. Any questions?”
“Do you still need the Plood to make it fly?” I ask.
The drone hovers in front of us. “Oh yes. Without that Plood mushroom, it won’t fly at all. I thought we had established that, Theodora.”
“Sure, but… okay. Did you see a bright flash?”
“Oh. You saw that? I spotted a nest of creatures that looked a lot like predators. They were nearby, and I thought Theodora and Kenz’ox and little Aker’iz might be in danger from these. And the saucer does have some fearsome weapons. I didn’t kill them! I just scared them, like the Tratena tribe. Well, not as brutally as I scared the tribe. I didn’t like them much, and itis possible that I was too harsh with them. But these innocent predators will find a new home at some distance. Are there more questions?”
“What are you two talking about?” Kenz’ox asks. “I enjoy the alien sounds, but I feel like there are vital things being said but passing me by completely.”
“Dex says the saucer flies fine,”I sum up. “And he chased away the krolts in the nest nearby.”
“That Plood ship is powerful,” he says with a glare at the saucer. “I was going to seek it out and chase them away myself.”
I look up at him. “You never told me that. That would be incredibly dangerous!”
“I would surprise them,” he says defensively. “At dawn, when they are drowsy.”
I squeeze his hand. “My love, I asked you not to do dangerous things again.”
“And I didn’t,” he argues with a little smirk. “The Plood ship did it for me.”
“Well… all right,” I offer, outmaneuvered. “Just keep it in mind.”
“I would never do anything too dangerous,” he says. “Only to protect you and Aker’iz.”
I squeeze his hand. “I know.”
That night, after Dex retreats into the control room to “process data” and the forest settles into its nocturnal chorus, we lie outside on soft furs, Aker’iz safely asleep between us.
The fire glows and sometimes crackles, while the ocean roars calmly in the distance.
“You know,” I whisper, “on Earth, people often have a ceremony for giving their child a name.”
He turns his head, blue eyes reflecting the firelight. “Here, we do not always name them at once.”
“I wondered about that.”
“A true name is given when the tribe believes the child will stay in the world,” he says. “When they stop preparing themselves for loss.”
“Her name means my heart. You loved her from the beginning.”
“Aker’iz. Yes. It was all I could say, when she was so small. When she might leave. When the Ancestors could take her back for being too wonderful, too perfect. They might be jealous. My tribe was, and they almost succeeded.”
I reach for his hand and lace my fingers through his, grounding both of us. “She’s not going anywhere now. Neither am I.” It’s just a fact.
“I know,” he replies. “Now I know.”
Aker’iz stirs, her mouth puckering, then relaxes again. Kenz’ox watches her for a long moment, then looks back at me. “But I think she should have another name,” he says. “One that has been more thought about. One that is more about her. Perhaps you can think of one?”
I smile, although moved tears burn at the edge of my eyes. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
I lean closer and whisper it, as if speaking it aloud might set something delicate into motion. “Calliope. After Callie.”
He repeats it slowly, testing the sounds with care. “Ka-leye-o-peee.”
