Page 146 of Under Story

Gloria ran to the cave.

“The ORBs are flickering!” she shouted. “Almost all of them!”

Tess and Laurel hurried to follow her. The color in the spheres seesawed between red and green. It looked like a conversation, or maybe a debate.

Tess grinned at Laurel. “What did I tell you?”

Until now, Tess had only placed ORBs inside the cave, where they would be dry and protected. Now that the spark seemed imminent, Laurel anchored the ladder next to the tree. Tess climbed up with a drill and installed others there using large pins.

Gloria shouted from the cave. “The electricity is going haywire. We have to sleep here tonight.”

“I’ll set up the tent,” said Laurel. There was a rocky ledge that might keep them dry if the storm returned.

—

Laurel had rented two GoPro cameras from the science department. She positioned one in the cave and pointed the other at the tree.

Overnight, they stayed awake in shifts, watching Gloria’s computer—the Pie—for a surge. The readout remained steady. In the morning, they gathered with disappointment. Laurel skimmed through the video footage while Tess made instant coffee.

“Nothing notable,” she said to Tess’s and Gloria’s expectant glances.

“Laurel,” said Gloria, “what happened to the footage from your old camera?”

“I dropped it off at a tech shop. They said the job could take months.”

Laurel had been disappointed, but not surprised. By now, electronics crashed frequently. Some people blamed the approach of Y2K: according to the very young, computing issues had plagued the turn of the previous century, though many dismissed these tales as children’s fibs. But technology was simplifying, too. Cell phones had become more like telephones than pocket-sized computers. After the iPhone ceased production, most people switched over to Motorola Razrs or the chunky new Nokias that were advertised as dumbphones.

“I don’t know why you did that,” Gloria said. “I told you I could pull the footage.”

Laurel shrugged. “I didn’t want to bother you.”

Gloria was frighteningly perceptive, and Laurel could feel the heat of her interest. But Laurel must have been sufficiently convincing: Gloria sighed the way young people did at technological ineptitude.

On Saturday, there was little to do but wait. To occupy themselves, they took notes and fine-tuned the equipment. They went to bed that night with no further sign of the spark.

Laurel took the first watch. She brought her camping lantern to the entrance of the cave, so that she could keep an eye on the Pie as well as the tree. The only illumination came from the ORBs. Two hours later, Laurel sensed Gloria more than she saw her: a vague shape moving through darkness.

“I’m here,” Gloria whispered.

It was her turn to be on duty. She sat down on the ground and leaned her head against Laurel’s shoulder. Their relationship was as difficult to categorize as Laurel’s had been with Gloria One. To say that Gloria One was Laurel’s professor, or even her mentor, would not have possibly encompassed it.

They sat for a minute, watching the oak. With the ORBs, it looked decorative, even celebratory: a Christmas tree in August.

“Thank you,” Gloria said.

Laurel turned to her. “For what?”

Gloria’s gesture encompassed all of it: the tree, the glowing lights, the cave ticking with energy.

“You gave me this,” Gloria said.

“Oh, no,” said Laurel. “You gave it to me.”

—

Tess took the last watch. When Laurel and Gloria woke up on Friday morning, they hastened outside. Tess hunched on a log, facing away from them.

“I swear,” Tess said. “I swear it’s going to happen.”