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A year ago, the carrot roots became ready for harvest, but were left undisturbed. Carrots, Signy had learned, were biennial. She could’ve tweaked the template to speed up their internal clock, but that kind of cheat wasn’t what this project was about. This project was about getting to know carrot plants on their own terms. As she’d read, you had to wait patiently if you wanted them to flower.

Signy had waited patiently.

Two weeks ago, the carrots had started flowering, but Signy had no way of knowing how long they’d take to go to seed. Nobody in this system had ever seen a carrot plant go to flower before, and the Primer didn’t include details on how long to wait. The Primer expected you to print carrot seeds if you needed carrot seeds, not wait a whole year beyond the point at which the crop was good to eat.

So, every day, Signy checked the flowers in the carrot patch, and continued to wait patiently.

At last, one of the tiny, lacy blossoms had traded its petals for an equally tiny fruit sprouting soft spines adapted for clinging onto fur. Signy hadn’t expected the spines. She hadn’t harbored any expectations at all. She never did, when taking the brakes off a new crop. She’d figured that carrot seeds would be small, given how dainty the flowers were, but every time she did an experiment like this, there was some sort of a surprise. Bell pepper seeds were flat, ludicrously so when compared to the food they grew into. Spinach seeds were lumpish and wrinkled. Pot marigold produced woody achenes shaped like hooks, which she never would’ve guessed at.

And now—carrot seeds. Ovular and spined. An absolute wonder.

She reached for her pant-leg pocket, then remembered she wasn’t wearing clothes. She patted down her work apron in a mild frenzy, as though the tool she needed would be summoned out of necessity.

“Tweezers?” Cora asked.

Signy nodded, remembering that she could, in fact, speak and ask for help. “Yes,” she said.

Cora bolted for the workbench without another word.

Chapter 12 Signy, Fortune

By the time Signy was slurping up the last of her noodles, the printer had begun to pour its work into the collection bin. She drank the remaining broth from the bowl, then went to inspect her new batch of seeds. As commanded: two dozen petunia seeds, ready for her to press into starter cups and return to in a few days’ time.

She reached into the bin, picked up a seed, and placed it in the middle of her palm.

Chapter 774 Signy, Cypsela

Cora hurried back over with a pair of tweezers, a magnifying glass, and a collection vial. Signy took the tweezers first.

She reached out to the flower, picked up a seed, and placed it in the middle of her palm.

Chapters 13 & 775 Signy

At the most essential level, all

forms of sexual reproduction

followed the same template,

and it wasn’t difficult to

understand. Sure, you could

complicate matters by bringing

words like haploid or albumen

into the conversation. You

could discuss the myriad ways

different species went about

distributing their genes—

sporing, spawning, copulation,

pollination, internal, external,