Adam points to a narrow crevice where a large piece of rock has separated from the massive rock needle. The rock face is smooth, like a drawing board, and…
My breath catches as I realize what I’m looking at. Dozens of shapes are embedded into the rock, dark outlines etched into the pale pink surface. Twisted shells, fern-like fronds, and skeletal impressions bloom across the wall in frozen chaos. Some are only faint shadows, while others jut from the surface, their ridges and spirals crisp against the ancient rock.
“Fossils,” Adam says, fingering the small, broken fossil I found earlier. “Jaime—youliked fossils. I show you more fossils. You like?”
“Do I like them? Oh my god, I love them. Adam, this is beautiful, and it’s sweet that you remembered, that you did this for me.” Seriously, how much more perfect could my sweet alien be? This is the best date I’ve ever been on. The best date anyone’s ever been on.
Crawling closer, I reach out to touch the fossilized remains of creatures and plants that lived here millions of years ago. Gently, worried I’ll damage it, I trace the most prominent outline of what must have been an ancient mollusc shell. It’s longer than my forearm, twisted into a narrow, pointy spiral.
“Wow.” I wish I could take part of this wall with me, or at least take a picture of it, but my memories will have to do. “Thank you, Adam.”
Adam crouches beside me, his fingers following my path around the shell. “You remember this,” he says. “You remember me.”
“W-what do you mean?” Tearing my eyes from the beautiful piece of history, I look at Adam, who appears more somber than usual. “Adam, what are you talking about? Why would I need to remember you?” Is he planning on leaving me once we get off the moon? Did he remember more about his life and realizehe doesn’t have space for a needy human in it? Or that he has obligations? A partner? A family, even?
Instead of answering me, Adam picks me up again. “We go. Long way.”
“Okay, but…” I want to demand answers, but what right do I really have to pry into his privacy? We’re a casual hookup born from trauma bonding and need for intimacy. He doesn’t owe me anything. I’m the one who owes everything to him, and I better remember that. Still, his words make me uneasy, like there’s something he’s not telling me, something important I should know.
We descend a different cliff from the one we used to escape the venomfang and, once we’re in the jungle, Adam grows completely quiet. Following his lead, I keep my usually busy mouth shut, my ears straining for any sound of danger approaching. Not that I heard the venomfang the last time before it attacked us, but the jungle did grow quiet when it was around, so I keep my ears peeled for any change in the sounds around us. So far, a flock of tiny dragon birds Adam calls clatterbeaks has been following us, which I hope means we’re safe for now.
Adam told me about the cute names his primitive self had created for various local creatures, and they’re pretty much spot on. Like the damned worms. Wiggletails. They sound all cute and sweet, but fuck. I’ll be the happiest man in the universe if I never have to see another worm in my life, but they’re pretty much the only edible thing here.
Adam tried to bring me meat, both from the turtles and from something that resembled a tiny antelope, but something on this moon makes the creatures’ meat incredibly bitter. I couldn't eat more than two bites before my stomach turned. The worms are the best choice here, and isn’t that just sad?
The clatterbeaks suddenly dart away, the forest becoming silent. “Adam,” I whisper, my body tensing as I scan the foliage for threats.
“I know.” Veering off our path, he heads for the root system of a nearby tree and enters a cave just big enough to shelter us both.
“Venomfangs?” I ask quietly, somehow feeling more vulnerable in the enclosed space because I can’t see outside.
“No, Jaime. Sharp light.”
“Oh. A solar storm.” Now that he mentions it, I realize the jungle has been brighter because the leaves have begun rolling up to hide from the sun. I haven’t noticed the northern lights yet, but the forest clearly senses the danger coming.
Carefully removing our meager belongings from my lap, Adam sets me down before curling around me. “Solar storm,” he repeats, as if mulling over the words. “The sun. Hmm. Makes sense. Hide from…radiation?”
Damn, every time he speaks like this, I realize Adam’s probably a lot smarter than I am. My bet is that he’s highly educated and he had a brilliant mind before ending up here. It doesn’t make sense, though. How long would he have to be here to forget everything? Surely longer than a few years. Decades, perhaps? He doesn’t look old, but for all I know, his kind might live for centuries.
Wouldn’t the process of him losing his mind be gradual? Wouldn’t he try to stave it off by taking notes and keeping track of time? Wouldn’t he have built a better shelter and accumulated more supplies before forgetting what it was all for? Yet his cave was more like an animal’s den, its walls bare, not even marked with scratches to count the passing days.
I’m missing something here. I’m sure of it, but maybe Adam will explain it once we get out of here. If he still wants mearound. Sadness wells in my chest and I curl into Adam’s chest, determined to enjoy what little time I have left with him.
Chapter 26
Jaime
Thesolarstormonlylasts for half a local day, which is still around a day and a half by my count, but according to Adam, that’s considered a short period of ‘sharp light’. He remembers times when it took several days for the green light to disappear from the sky, and even the nights were short and dangerous back then because everything that was hiding during the day came out at once, fighting for food and water before everyone had to return to their dens to survive the next day.
Once it’s safe again, we stalk out of our cave. Adam offers to boil more water for me, but I tell him to leave the shell behind.We can always find a new one should we need one, but it’s unwieldy and he’ll move faster without it, which will be useful as we’re about to enter the venomfang territory.
When we reach the river, still downstream from where Adam found me, he veers off toward a bush to collect some fruits. My hopes of getting a different meal than worms die when he starts rubbing the dark red berries over himself and urges me to do the same.
“Hide from venomfangs,” he explains, making me realize it’s probably to mask our scent. Mine, specifically, since I’m a tasty new thing everyone wants to take a bite of.
The venomfangs Adam encountered before know he’s dangerous and they instinctively avoid him if they can, unless he pisses them off by doing something stupid like walking straight into their hunting grounds. However, as Adam told me, I smell “edible”. Apparently, that’s what drew him to me in the first place. He really was going to eat me back then and is mortally embarrassed about it. It’s cute how he squirms whenever he mentions that time when “the fog” clouded his mind.
Once we’re both covered in the sweet-smelling berry juice, I toss the rest away. They’re tempting, but there’s no way to know if they’ll kill me. Adam claims not even the clatterbeaks or the glowing turtles eat them, which is definitely a red flag. I’ll just have to stick to worms until we get out of here. Then I’ll have the food fabricator create every single human food it has in the database and gorge on it. All of it. There aren’t many, even though the humans aboard the Supernova keep trying to add more, but there’s pizza and pasta, which will be excellent starters. Fuck, I’d kill for a mac and cheese now.
