Page 75 of As You Wake, Break the Shell

“Which is?”

“I don’t like potted plants,” Signy said with a smirk.

Cora propped herself up on her elbow. “Uh . . .” She gestured at their immediate surroundings, which were very leafy and very green.

“A necessary evil,” Signy said. “People need plants, and this is how people can access them. The benefit of a potted plant to a human is inarguable, whether it’s for food or for making your living space bearable. But I feel for the plants. They’re not supposed to live out their lives alone, they’re supposed to share soil with others.” She shifted against the mattress. “Potted plants seem lonely to me.”

Cora mulled this over. “Do plants get lonely?”

“I have no idea,” Signy said. “But I know they evolved for a life spent trading nutrients with their neighbors.”

“Trading how?”

“Through their roots. And through fungal networks.”

“Like . . . mildew?” Cora realized she didn’t really understand what fungus was, just that it was the category of stuff that got bleached out of the showers every week.

“N . . . o,” Signy said slowly. “I mean, yes, that is a growth form of certain types of fungus, but it’s not the sort I mean. The kind I mean was this . . . weblike stuff that grew in dirt. You know the mushrooms we get mycoprotein from?”

“Sure, I guess so.”

“They grow similarly, in substrate.”

Cora paused. “Hypothetically, if I were to say, ‘are mushrooms not plants,’ would you kick me out of bed?”

Signy laughed, good and loud. “No.”

“Okay, great. Are mushrooms not plants?”

“They are not,” Signy confirmed. “They are a type of fungus.”

“Cool,” Cora said noncommittally. “Okay, well, I don’t know what that means, really, so . . . go back to what you were saying about roots.”

Signy gave her a long look. “Can I tell you it’s truly fantastic to have somebody say that to me while we’re both naked?”

It was Cora’s turn to laugh. “Happy to oblige.”

“All right,” Signy said, returning to business while snuggling up. “In the wild, on Earth, fungus grew around the roots of plants. And they made a—”

“A weblike stuff.”

“Yes. And the wild plants used that web to exchange nutrients with each other. You could think of it a little like a . . . a power line. Or plumbing. Or your veins, really—they’re not so different.”

Cora tried to wrap her brain around that. Anything to do with life on Earth was abstract enough to be fantasy. Dozens of kinds of animals walked around outside. People could stand in the rain and not melt. So, sure, plants traded nutrients through something kinda like mildew. Why not? “You’re saying that plants . . . communicate.” Cora eyed the shelves of pots standing over them, a little suspiciously.

Signy nodded. “They do. Through their roots, and through their leaves, too. They send each other—oh, well, you’ll understand this. They use chemicals that behave a lot like pheromones.”

Strange as the rest it of it was, Cora found it even weirder to be given a point of reference she knew. “Are you serious?”

“Mhm. They’re called volatile organic compounds in plants, but I promise there won’t be a quiz.”

Cora sat up, arranging herself cross-legged on the mattress. She looked at the plants around her, and she pursed her lips. She looked at the spring onions. She looked at the lettuce. She looked at the tank of water plants that had hypnotized her, and now wondered what was in the bubbles collecting on the leaves. “Are they all talking right now?”

“Probably,” Signy said. “Very likely.”

Cora frowned. “But can they hear each other?”

“I don’t know. Not like we do, but who knows? Some of it gets processed through their leaves, but there really isn’t much in the Primer on plants that doesn’t relate to agriculture. I don’t know. I don’t know if they like this setup or not. I don’t know if they’re even capable of liking anything. What I do know is they’re supposed to exist with all sorts of things—roots, fungi, invertebrates, bacteria. I can pour a bottle of fertilizer and a spoonful of bac powder into the irrigation lines and fill their material needs that way. But the invertebrates, the soil fungi—I can’t provide those things. I give my plants the best life I can, but in the end, it’s all for human benefit. It’s not for theirs.”