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As You Wake, Break the Shell

Page 154

by Becky Chambers

* * *

The red buttons would make her stop.

Signy unbuckled herself again and moved to Cora. The blood around her nose had done the same thing tears did in space, amassing into a globe of crimson fluid. Cora was breathing through her mouth. Her head remained limp.

Signy ripped every clasp on Cora’s helmet open, not sure if there was an order to follow or if she should be doing this at all. She pulled the helmet off.

Colibri shifted. Outside, Signy could see the rorqual’s extended sail stretch and twist. The pulse of her through the hull changed its rhythm. It was nearly impossible to know what the animal was feeling, but Signy had the impression Colibri was confused.

* * *

Years only matter if you think love is a spark

But we both know that’s just bad advertising

You never stop being my revelation

And we never forget how to say hello

And I cannot imagine what it would be like

To see you beside me and not fall still

* * *

“Cora,” Signy said loudly, trying to call her back into herself. “Cora, please.” She grabbed the first aid kit, got some gauze, and began to draw away the suspended blood.

Colibri started moving strangely, bucking lightly, waving her body like a ribbon. She was . . . testing something. But what? She rocked back and forth, front to back, side to side—

Oh, Signy thought, forming a hypothesis. Colibri was trying to figure out if the saddle was still occupied. Her line of communication had been cut.

Signy kicked the hull three times, as she had at the stables. “Hello!” she called out, despite knowing she couldn’t be heard. “Yes, hello, we’re here!”

Colibri rippled hard, as she had at the stables.

Signy sighed with relief. She kicked three times again, to confirm the message was received. Okay. Okay, that was a start. She had no idea what to do next, but she could work with—

Colibri ceased her rocking, steadied her body, and continued onward, an arrow tearing through the dark.

* * *

Like all things, we change from day to day

Muscles always leave their mark upon bone

And the self is the thing that shifts the most

We are nothing if not a drive to adapt

But we have learned, in tending this garden of us

That we have one constant

And there is no change it cannot carry

And when we touch

When we merge