Page 59 of As You Wake, Break the Shell

“I’m ready if you are,” Cora said.

“Is she?” Signy asked.

Cora nodded with a smile, reading body language Signy could not. “Oh, yeah. She’s bouncing off the wall.”

Signy suppressed the urge to take Cora’s hand again. “All right,” she said. “Whenever you like.”

Cora hit a button, and three sets of lights switched on in tandem: a thin row circling Cora’s helmet, an indicator bulb on the control panel, and a large array throughout Colibri’s pen. A signal to anyone inside or outside that a conversation was in progress.

The rorqual shuddered, and Cora’s eyes closed. Her head arched back. Her fingers flexed and softened. When her eyes reappeared, her pupils had expanded wide and black, crowding out the amber.

Cora turned her head—and only her head—toward Signy, and for an uncomfortable amount of time, she stared. Signy shivered, involuntarily. Goose bumps crept up her neck like frost. There were no longer only two people in this room.

When Cora finally spoke, her words came slower than before, as though she were feeling around for them in the dark. “Colibri would like to know what you think of her,” she said.

Signy blinked at the directness of the question. No hello, no nice to meet you, no pleasantries at all. In some ways, that was fine by Signy. Her patience for small talk was thin to begin with. But she’d spent decades adjusting to others’ need for it, and the abandonment of that script came as a surprise. “I’m a little afraid,” she said. New as this territory was, it didn’t seem the place for half-truths and white lies. “I know you two are friends, and so I trust that. But I’ve never seen anyth—anyone like her before. I’m still learning what she is.” Signy paused. “Should I address you or Colibri, when we’re speaking?”

“Either,” Cora said. “We’re both here.” She rocked her head from side to side with eyes shut. “She wants to know if you’re ever afraid of your plants.”

“Why would I be afraid of my plants?”

“If you bring a species to life that you’ve never seen before, are you afraid of it?”

Signy weighed the question. “No. I am curious, but not afraid.”

“Then why do you fear Colibri?” Cora continued to rock her head. “She’s not bothered, she just likes . . . um . . . what’s it called. Nuance. Depth.”

“The difference is . . .” Signy searched within herself. “Plants are small and they don’t move. I’m not accustomed to animals, or any living being this much bigger than me.” She thought harder. Nuance. “I may not be afraid of plants, but I am cautious about handling new species until I understand them better. I think maybe that’s a more accurate way to explain what I’m feeling now. I don’t understand Colibri, but I want to.”

Whether Cora was smiling at Signy’s answer or Colibri’s was impossible to know. Maybe the answer was both. “Colibri understands that,” she said. “She wants to understand you, too.”

“Does she understand plants?” Signy asked. “What plants are?”

“Mm. Sort of. I’ve tried to explain plants to her. Before. Another time, I tried to explain. The closest I could get was light-eaters, and she kinda got that, because she eats light, too.”

Signy’s eyes widened. “Do rorquals photosynthesize?”

“Yeah. Yeah, they do. Or they can, anyway. It’s very supplementary, it’s not their main source of, um—hoo.” Cora’s head dipped, like a string holding up her neck had been cut.

“Are you okay?” Signy asked. She glanced at Cora’s nostrils. No blood.

“Yeah, I just, uh . . . forgot, for a second,” Cora said. She gave no further explanation.

“That’s okay,” Signy said. “You don’t have to talk, if you don’t want to.”

“Talk and talk and talk,” Cora said with an amused sigh. “That’s what we humans do, isn’t it, girl?”

Signy gathered that she was not the one being addressed. She took that in stride.

“And you don’t understand talking at all,” Cora drawled. “You think words are too small.” Slowly, she looked over to Signy, as if she’d just remembered she had company. “Sorry. Sorry. In here—” She tapped her forehead. “Crystal clear.”

“That’s all right,” Signy said. “I don’t mind.”

“Colibri wants to know—” Cora paused, her lips pressing inward. “She wants to know if you think the medicine you are making for me is good.”

Signy tensed. She looked back at the hatch, making sure it was closed. “Is this a safe place for an honest conversation?” she asked. She kept her tone light, even as her jaw clenched.

Cora stared at her, confused, then looked more herself, as though she’d stepped in from another room. “Oh, yeah, no—there are security cameras in here, uh, but no sound. No recording, I mean. Nobody is listening. Sorry.”