we must talk less. Though first, I must state that your skill at speaking my language is astounding. It honors me.”
She packs everything up, gets to her feet, and throws the backpack on again. “All we girls decided to learn it as well as we can. It’s important. And we’ve had more than two years to do it. Shall we go?”
7
- Dolly -
Brank’ox takes the backpack full of empty pots. “I will lead the way now.”
He looks around for a moment, then picks a direction and walks down from the hill.
I follow, feeling light and rested. Walking through the jungle is tiring, and the break was good for me. The food and drink, too.
Especially the drink. I wasn’t sure if I should bring booze on this trip, but now I’m glad I did. It loosened Brank’ox up for a split second before he slammed shut and became his usual, serious self again.
It’s not that I mind him being serious about keeping me safe. But there is something dark about him, something pained. I’ve only seen him smile once, and that was only the briefest of moments. Maybe I should have brought more of the not-tequila, help him to loosen up more and maybe get over whatever it is that’s bothering him.
Maybe he just didn’t want to come on this trip, maybe he was ordered and resents the whole thing. He’s extremely conscientious back at the tribe, I know that. Maybe he hates being away from the village and his duties there.
Whatever it is, he certainly seems confident enough as he walks ahead of me and clears the way so I don’t have to stumble over too large rocks or slide on patches of mud. He’s clearly picking a better route than I ever could.
It takes us longer than I thought to get there. We walk up a long, even hill for at least an hour, and suddenly all the trees and undergrowth are gone and we’re looking out at a huge expanse which is where the top third of Bune broke off from the lower two thirds.
It looks like an enormous, three-dimensional labyrinth of alien construction underneath us, a total chaos of struts and arches and girders and beams and things that I don’t even know what they could possibly be, all in a latticework so complex that I could study it for days and still not get how it hangs together. Like an Escher painting the size of several football stadiums, where none of the pieces make sense with the others.
I draw up beside Brank’ox. “That’s so weird. Don’t go too close. Looks like a long fall.”
He peers down into the chaos. “Not something you recognize?”
“Well, it’s the lower part of Bune, the spaceship. Apparently, it doesn’t really need this lower part to fly.”
“Is this what you came to see?”
I scratch my chin. I have no idea how to make sense of it. “Not really. I mean, I don’t think anyone has inspected this thing since the upper part broke off and flew away. That part is clearly the most important one. We think this lower part was not much in use even before the ship crashed. It seems more primitive. As if the new section was built on top of this old one while underway in space. Anyway, it was badly damaged in the crash. See?” I point to the far end at least a mile away, where one end of the construction has obviously collapsed.
“It’s broken, then,” Brank’ox says and turns around to survey the jungle behind us. “Whatever you came here to do, it’s better to get it done.”
The square mile of weird alien tech has a hypnotic effect on me, as if my brain enjoys finally seeing straight lines and large things that are obviously artificial.
I finally tear myself away and turn my back to it. “I’m looking for a cluster of silver-barked trees to the west of here, but close to the base of this thing.”
The view from up here is really good. I even think I can spot our village right where the jungle meets the sky. At least I think I see a couple of needle-thin columns of smoke rising there.
There’s a little bit of a cooling breeze, too.
Brank’ox points. “Is that them?”
I squint down to the base of the broken spaceship. “Looks like it. Ever see a lot of that kind of tree? Close to the village?”
He shades his eyes with one hand. “No. Not there.”