Chapter 17: Gabbro
Once, in those grey, formless months after Sphale's passing, Gabbro decided on a whim to take a trek up the geyser mountains. A stupid and reckless venture to take alone, but Gabbro had petulantly felt like being foolish, and so they snuck out of the village before anyone could talk some sense into them.
On the second day into the climb, they made the terrible mistake of trusting the wrong patch of ground to hold their weight. A rookie error, given the mountains' reputation for being more riddled with holes than a worm-infested hearthapple. But they were lost in their own head, and sure enough they put their foot straight through a brittle patch of thin ground.
By some twist of luck they were not instantly flayed alive by a newly-released gout of steam, but instead tumbled ass-over-teakettle into the gaping hole they had just opened up in the mountainside. Their descent ended a few seconds later with an almighty splash and a faceful of warm, sulfurous water.
Climbing out of that cave had been an exercise in terror in itself, but nothing compared to the sensation of the world itself opening up beneath Gabbro's feet, swallowing them whole. They never did tell anyone what had happened. Whenever they thought about it, they broke out in a cold sweat. And when their astronaut training began in earnest, the whole incident slunk to the back of their mind as they filled their brain instead with orbital mechanics, navigation systems and which parts of a ship were most likely to explode if they crash-landed on them. In time, they forgot such a terror could exist.
Until now.
By all rights, Gabbro should be a gibbering mess. But maybe that fateful tumble had jarred something loose inside them, because all they feel is… lost. But there's nowhere to go, no mountain to climb. So they do what they learned to do when Sphale's memory wouldn't let them go. They stay put, and wait it out. And eventually, with the reassuring solidity of the floor beneath them, they come back to themself.
Beside them, Riebeck sits slumped against the bulkhead, their head in their hands. Neither of them can find the words to break the silence. Funny, that, Gabbro being a poet and all, but how do you encapsulate such a loss in words?
Chert has retreated to Traveler-3, bolting the hatch behind them. And Gabbro can respect their wishes, they can, but the thought of them being alone right now is more than they can bear. They rise slowly to their feet, murmuring in Riebeck's ear about calling them if they need to. Riebeck doesn't so much as twitch.
Gabbro knocks on the hatch to Traveler-3. When no response comes, they knock again. And after a few minutes of straining their ears, listening to nothing but the faint sounds of the Traveler doing its best to keep its inhabitants alive, they clear their raw throat. "Chert?"
Still nothing. Gabbro really ought to take the hint, but nothing about this nightmare is normal. And if they have to be honest, they need this. "Are you-" they snort to themself, not even bothering to finish that sentence. "Of course you're not okay. None of this is okay. And I can't fix it, but I… I can be here. Just… say something. Please?"
It feels like aeons have gone by before Chert's muffled voice reaches their ears, thick with tears. "What are we going to do, Gabbro?"
A spark of hope flickers tentatively in Gabbro's breast, and they press their forehead against the hatch, imagining that the cool surface is Chert's faceplate. "Well, that's up to us, isn't it? We don't have to decide on that right away. But I suspect we'll do what we always do - pick ourselves up and keep going. We're Outer Wilds Ventures."
"But what is the point?" Chert's voice rises until it cracks. "What's the point of carrying on? We have no home to return to!" There's a muffled thud from behind the hatch. Gabbro can picture them pacing back and forth, shoving unfortunate objects out of their way in their frustration. "There's nothing left. No one to help us. What even is Outer Wilds Ventures if we have no-one to return to?"
"We are left, Chert. All four of us. We're still here." I'm here. There's a dull ache in Gabbro's throat. "Couldn't that be a good enough reason to carry on? For us?" For me?
Deep down, Gabbro knows they shouldn't hope for an answer to that. What right do they have to ask for such a thing? But they'd take anything; one of Chert's exasperated sighs, maybe, or even bitter anger, over the silence that follows. They remain at the hatch, unmoving, until their knees lock up and their back is crying out for mercy, breath caught in their chest as they hold out for a reply - any reply.
But none comes.
·◊◊◊·
Gabbro starts awake as something heavy and solid collides with their ribs. They roll over, blinking, wondering how many hours have slipped by. Then a long-suffering voice says, "Oh Gabbro, what are you doing?"
"Mourning a few recent regrettable choices," Gabbro groans. Chert is standing over them, red-eyed and pale in the anemic electric light. Their gaze flickers from the open hatch, to Gabbro sprawled on the floor. A little crease appears between their eyes, and for a gut-droppingly awful moment Gabbro wonders if they'll send them away.
Then they sigh. "Come on, come inside."
They disappear into Traveler-3, and stiffly, Gabbro follows. The floor of the ship is cold and hard, no more so than in the docking hub, and they can feel the chill in their very marrow. Or maybe they're simply getting old. Either way, it's a relief when Chert gestures for them to sit on their cot. Less so when Chert starts poking and prodding at them, listening to their chest as they breathe. But it's something.
"Your fatigue, it's not improving. I don't like that."
Gabbro quirks a small, rueful smile. "So you noticed, huh?"
"Of course I noticed. People don't just keel over in the docking hub for no reason. What were you doing out there, anyway?"
"I didn't keel over, Chert. I was, uh, waiting for you."
"You- oh." Chert's speckles darken, the corners of their mouth tugging down. "I'm sorry. I was… I am upset. As you can probably imagine." They go to pull away, but Gabbro reaches out and catches their arm.
"I'm not blaming you. I'd wait forever if I thought there was the slightest chance you'd need me. You… you know that, right?" A dizzying sensation sweeps through their chest, and they're fairly sure it has nothing to do with their fatigue. "And, stars, Chert," they stumble on, "I get it. You asked me to be the strong one, but it's like I'm on a spacewalk without a tether. Like at any moment I could go spinning off and get lost forever, were it not for you."
They hold Chert's gaze, searching for a hint of recognition, any sign that Chert understands. But they merely look away, their eyes glassy. "Sometimes, Gabbro, I wish you'd say what you mean-"
"Crew?" The interrupting burst of signalscope static makes them both jump. Gabbro goes to switch it off, only to realize that it's not theirs at all. Chert slips from their grasp and crosses the cabin, to where their signalscope lies discarded atop a stack of their research notes. They're reaching for the switch, when it crackles to life again.
The voice at the other end is rough, but unmistakably Riebeck's. "Crew, come in. All hands to Traveler-1. We need to talk."
