Chapter 20: Feldspar
So that's it, then. Just like that, the crew decides to carry on . As if it's not obvious that the four of them are going to die out here, the four last Hearthian souls adrift in the void. All their life, Feldspar has thumbed their nose at death. Looks like the last laugh is on them, after all.
They don't want to lead this new 'mission'. They want to decouple Traveler-2 and fly, as far and as fast as they can, until their fuel is spent and they can let the silence take them. The urge to scream ripples through them, but they can't muster up the breath, and to try would set their lungs on fire, so instead they ball their fists and grit out a "fine, let's do this." Anything to stop the others looking at them as if they're meant to have any stars-damned clue what to do next.
·◊◊◊·
"I need you to promise me something." The rising sun peeking over the lip of the crater casts Hornfels in honeyed light. Feldspar could drink in the sight of them forever. Tonight, they'll be lucky to see one another at all, as the evening will be filled with feasting and dancing and well-wishers, but these stolen hours on the observatory platform are just for them.
"Is this what you wanted to tell me?" Feldspar asks. Hornfels' expression flickers with… something.
"I- what? Oh, no. That… that can wait."
"If you say so." Feldspar eyes the distant shape of Traveler-2 doubtfully. If Hornfels has something important to say, they're running out of time. Three months is a long time to wait.
"I want you to promise me that, if anything goes wrong out there, you'll do the smart thing and make the call. End the mission. No heroics. No needless risks. I don't care about a failed mission - I need you to come back to me."
"Aw, c'mon, 'Fels. We've been through this." Feldspar slides an arm around Hornfels' waist, resting their chin on their shoulder. But Hornfels stiffens, gaze fixed on the village below them.
"Promise me," they say flatly. "Promise me you'll do the right thing."
Feldspar suppresses a groan. "Okay, okay. I promise. You can stop worrying yourself sick now." They punctuate their words by jabbing Hornfels in the shoulder with their chin. Not the most mature response, but at least it brings a smile to Hornfels' face. "Anyway, you're forgetting the most important thing of all. Nothing's gonna go wrong, because…?"
Hornfels utters a quiet laugh. "How could I forget? Because you're Feldspar."
·◊◊◊·
"Feldspar?" a soft voice says, and Feldspar opens their eyes to find the others have gone, except for Riebeck. This is their ship, after all. Feldspar eyes the empty cabin with unease, wondering how much time has passed, and how much of the conversation they've missed.
"Sorry, I was just resting my eyes," they lie. This isn't the first time they've fallen asleep out of sheer physical exhaustion, since their narrow escape from Gloam Heart. But it's the first time they've done so in front of the others, and that makes them feel strangely exposed.
They should probably leave Riebeck alone, but the idea of hobbling back to Traveler-2 is a daunting one. Simply moving about sends shooting pains up their legs. It takes them a moment to notice that Riebeck is holding out a bitterwillow pellet in their cupped hand. There's no point in pretending they don't need it, so Feldspar takes it and pops it into their mouth.
"Thanks," they mutter as they chew.
"Don't mention it. Has Chert been reminding you to take painkillers?"
Feldspar snorts. "Think they've got other things on their mind." Riebeck lets out a breathy sound. It's then Feldspar notices they're also chewing a bitterwillow pellet. "You hurt yourself?"
"No, just a stress headache. And my stomach, but I suspect that's...well, all of this." They give a shrug, but their gaze sharpens as Feldspar tentatively flexes a swollen ankle. "You ought to take better care of yourself. We're relying on you now, more than ever."
"Well, maybe you shouldn't," Feldspar snaps, harsher than they intended. Why does everyone on this ship think they know their business better than they do? They expect Riebeck to flinch away, and they're already mustering a muttered apology, but instead they fold their arms over their barrel chest.
"I know it feels impossible, what we're trying to do. But Hornfels put you in charge for a reason."
Hornfels. Feldspar chokes on a breath. They've been keeping the stupid memories at arm's length, refusing to acknowledge what they've lost. As if by sheer force of will they can keep the horror of it stoppered up. But with a few careless words Riebeck's gone and broken the dam.
"Well, Hornfels was wrong, okay? They were counting on me too, and I hurt them. Badly." Feldspar presses a fist to their mouth, doubling over as if they can stop the words from pouring out. Too late. "They wanted to take part in the next Nesting. But I asked them to wait 'til I got back."
"Oh, Feldspar." No. Feldspar doesn't want Riebeck's pity. They shut their eyes, but the memory of Hornfels' face is waiting for them. Hurt, and barely disguised disappointment. Their mouth tastes metallic, and they realize they've bitten through their busted lip again.
"It's not like I even wanted to take part, but I wanted to be there when they did."
"You couldn't have known."
"Was none of my business. What right did I have to ask that of them?"
A gentle hand lands on their shoulder. When they open their eyes, Riebeck's round, kind face is more than they can bear. "Because you love them, Feldspar. It's plain to everyone. You wanted to share that moment with them."
"And now they'll never get to have it."
A shadow crosses Riebeck's expression. "No, they won't. I'm so sorry." Easy for them to say. Feldspar has never seen them romantically inclined toward anyone. But… no, that's not fair. They don't know a single Hearthian who doesn't - didn't - consider Riebeck family, of a sort. And now that they think to look, they can see the weight tugging at them, in the slump of their shoulders, in the dark circles under their eyes. Feldspar knows they should offer some kind of comfort, but it occurs to them, uncomfortably, that they have no idea how to do that.
"...Yeah, well," they croak. "We've all lost something, haven't we?"
Riebeck's face crumples, and they sweep Feldspar up into a crushing hug, muffling their sobs in their shoulder. Their battered ribs creak under the pressure, the air squeezing out of their already impaired lungs. The thin fabric of their shirt is already soaking through with tears. And yet something makes them throw their arms around Riebeck's broad back, holding them as tightly as they're being held. And, just for a minute, they feel a little less adrift.
"Hornfels wouldn't want you to be miserable," Riebeck mumbles wetly into their shoulder, before pulling away. Feldspar tries not to think about the big soggy patch on their shirt.
"I dunno. I probably deserve it."
"They wouldn't want you beating yourself up, either."
Maybe that's true. And maybe a cycle will come when Feldspar will be ready to leave behind the guilt and the regrets. But for now they settle for a noncommittal shrug. "Thanks, Riebeck. For putting up with me. I know I haven't been easy to deal with lately."
"Well…" Riebeck offers up a watery, embarrassed smile. "No, you haven't. But it's not about what's easy. That's what friends do, we take care of each other." Friends. The idea catches Feldspar off-guard. But... they don't hate it.
"Right. Uh, but if it's all the same… I think I need to be alone for a while."
"Oh, of course! You should rest- oh!" They dart forward, fast despite their size, as Feldspar tries to get up and promptly folds as if they are one of the Traveller's cots. "It's okay, I've got you." Their arm slides beneath Feldspar's, practically holding them upright. It would have been humiliating, if Feldspar wasn't preoccupied with breathing through the throbbing pain of their useless ankles. They have a sneaking suspicion that Chert is right - they really do risk doing themself permanent damage if they keep on trying to walk around.
"C'mon," says Riebeck firmly. "Let's get you back to your cabin. We'll need you at your best, if we're going to explore the rest of this solar system."
They drop to one knee, motioning for Feldspar to climb on their back. And this time, Feldspar doesn't argue.
·◊◊◊·
Feldspar's reluctant status as lead for this new 'mission' aside, they find themself mostly confined to their cabin as, over the next few cycles, the Traveler eats up the vast distance to the next closest planet. That's fine by them, since they can leave the vessel to follow its autopilot, with supervision from Gabbro to ensure they don't crash into any inconveniently unnoticed objects on the way. And meanwhile, in a touching effort to keep Feldspar from getting bored, Riebeck drops by at regular intervals. They're more than eager to fill them in on what they and Chert have discovered from the spheres they found on Gloam Heart.
"The Gloamers documented the solar system extensively, not that we can understand any of it-"
"Wait, Gloamers?" Feldspar interrupts.
Riebeck's speckles darken. "That's, ah, what I'm calling them. Do you think it's silly?"
Yes. "No," Feldspar assures them quickly, "I like it. So did they have much to say about our next destination?"
"Yes, lots! We found out its orbit is elliptical, which means huge temperature fluctuations. And yet we saw blueprints for something the Gloamers were building there. Something big." Riebeck makes a happy noise. "I can't wait to see it for myself! And in a few cycles, we will. Gabbro already adjusted our trajectory. We'll intercept the planet at its furthest point from Lumen 282-b, while it's moving at its slowest."
Feldspar can't exactly muster the same enthusiasm, when they know the closest they'll ever get to the planet is low orbit. They're not stupid; they've seen the damage they did to their helmet. But they would rather jump out of an airlock than rain on Riebeck's excitement, so they swallow their disappointment, and try not to think about what they're going to do with themself aboard the vessel while the others are off exploring.
It's hard not to be bitter, though, as over the next couple of cycles the dark little planet gets steadily closer, taking up more and more of the viewport. When Chert and Riebeck's constant exclamations floating through the Traveler starts to grate on their nerves, they shut their hatch and pick up their harmonica, in the hopes that a bit of rest has restored their breath capacity. Playing the stars-damned thing still feels as if they've swallowed a flaming marshmallow, but it's something to do in between naps, at least.
Then, at who-knows-what hour, they wake to the burn of reverse thrusters, and Riebeck's big hand shaking them gently. "Um, Feldspar? You're going to want to see this."
·◊◊◊·
It's… a ship.
It doesn't look like any ship Feldspar would have imagined, smooth and black and segmented, similar to an oaklouse. Yet somehow they know that's what it is, even before Riebeck breathlessly points out the wreckage of what must have been engines, before Gabbro eases off the reverse thrusters and matches its velocity, so they can get a better look at it through Traveler-1's main viewport.
A gaping, jagged hole in the ship's carapace-like hull exposes its innards to the emptiness of space. If Feldspar hadn't spent as much time in space as they have, they might have been surprised at the absence of junk around it, its innards spilling out into the void. But all that stuff is long gone, lost in the cold dark. Except for the two figures, frozen forever in place at the end of a pair of tethers. They're long and sinewy, encased in a similar hard shell as their ship. Had they been trying to repair the damage? Or using their suits' air supply as a last resort before space claimed them? The poor saps. Feldspar hadn't even realized they'd said that last part aloud, until Riebeck makes a tiny, strangled sound.
"What on Hearth happened here?"
Gabbro rubs their chin thoughtfully. "From the looks of things? Explosive decompression. Looks as if they had some warning before it happened, though. Given that they were suited up, and tethered."
"Aren't we completely ignoring the most important thing, here?" says Chert. "Who 'they' are, for instance?"
"I was kinda running on the assumption these are our friends from Gloam Heart," Gabbro admits. "Have you found anything in those spheres of yours that tells us what they look like?"
"Not yet." From Chert's subdued tone, Feldspar can guess it's not from lack of trying. "And we shouldn't assume anything until we have more data. As unlikely as it is that there are two space-faring peoples in this solar system, not counting us…"
Feldspar has stopped listening, instead drifting closer to the viewport. Distance in space is deceptive, they understand that, but it really does feel as if they could reach out and touch the wreck. They ache for their suit, for the chance to spacewalk, so they can get over there and make the strange ship yield its secrets to them. The last time they got to interact with alien technology, they were too busy running for their life to properly take anything in. Then again, the 'thing' in the tunnels had saved them, so-
Wait.
"Their hands," Feldspar blurts out, and the discussion falters. "I saw a handprint on Gloam Heart," they explain. "Well, sort of. It was a button, but it definitely looked like a handprint. With three fingers and a thumb that had paddle-shaped tips. If the bodies have hands like that, then we'll know they're Gloamers."
"That's genius, Feldspar!" Chert says, bouncing on their toes. Then, "Wait, Gloamers?"
"Yeah. That's what we're calling 'em," Feldspar says, a touch defensively.
"Well, in any case, we'd have to get close enough without risking damage to our hull. That means a spacewalk." Gabbro winces. "Uh, which means someone would need to stay behind, and... well. You don't have a functioning suit..."
"Yeah yeah, I know." Feldspar waves them off, ignoring the pang of regret that goes through them. "Obviously I can't go out there without a helmet, so you'll have to do it. I'll monitor things from here."
"Sorry."
"I don't mind staying here with you," Riebeck mumbles.
Feldspar rounds on them, scowling. "Seriously? You've been itching to come face-to-face with a Gloamer since you laid eyes on the place, and you're gonna lose your nerve now?"
"Hold on one second!" Chert interrupts, their voice an octave higher than normal. "A spacewalk? Gabbro, this is crazy. You're still recovering, and Riebeck clearly doesn't want to go out there-"
"It's alright," Riebeck says quickly. "I can do it. Really."
Chert looks thoroughly unconvinced, but despite their protests, Gabbro leans down to take their hands in theirs. "It's okay, Chert, I can do this. I managed alright when I went out to check the comms."
"That was different. An emergency."
"It'll be a stone's throw from the Traveler. If I get too tired, I can tether myself to either you or Riebeck."
Yeah, none of this is Feldspar's business. But before they can look away and leave those two to sort their emotions out, Chert catches their eye, their lips flattened into a thin, unhappy line.
"Feldspar, call a vote. Please."
A vote. Just as they'd done on launch day, which arguably led to the nightmare they've found themselves in, that they're each trying to distract themselves from in their own way. Feldspar has to suppress the absurd urge to laugh. "Okay," they say. The atmosphere in the cabin grows brittle. "A vote, then. Chert?"
"I say we call it off. It's too dangerous."
"Gabbro?"
"I think we should go ahead."
"Riebeck?"
"I say go ahead, too."
Well, that's inconvenient. Feldspar chews the inside of their cheek and pretends not to notice the others staring expectantly at them. Their gaze slides again to the viewport, where the wrecked ship still lies tantalizingly just out of reach. Maybe they should vote to call it off. That way maybe they won't have to be the only one left behind, watching the others explore without them.
They swallow, disgusted with themself. What kind of leader are they, thinking like that? And anyway, the only thing a negative vote would achieve is a stalemate, an endless argument, until someone changes their mind or - more likely - loses their temper. They turn back to the others.
"I say we go ahead."
The effect is pretty much as they'd expected. Chert looks away, disappointment etched into the lines of their face. Riebeck smiles nervously, already jittery with the prospect of a new discovery. And Gabbro gives them a silent, appreciative nod.
They've made the right call, for once. They know they have.
So why do they feel so hollow inside?