After a few hours, she almost wished it was a harder trip.

After Percy had confirmed that the Nodes were at the tops of the two peaks, Adelaide had budgeted a few days for each peak — that would leave them enough time to return, although not enough to dawdle. And she’d need to move quickly between each ascent.

That was why she had insisted that Ray not join her, as much as he argued. Well, not argued, really — he hadn’t exactly marshalled arguments as much as he had flatly refused to entertain the idea for hours while everyone prepared to make another landing. It was only when they were on the dinghy that she had managed to get him to admit that any chance of getting both Nodes in time would require that, while she climbed the first peak, the path to the second was explored enough to identify any major obstacles in advance. And the central camp would similarly need to be managed — there wouldn’t be time to address issues between the two trips.

So she’d left Ray behind. She’d barely looked at the new basecamp they were creating — no grabbing firewood this time. She trusted him to manage things while she was gone, and she had no doubt she’d come back to a camp in good condition. What profit the crew would be able to find while she was gone was something she’d leave to them — the colorful plants would be potentially interesting at a minimum, but who knew what was possible. Regardless, it wasn’t her focus.

She’d set off with Jim and Alessio. Ray had insisted that she take Jim, which seemed loosely paternalistic and patriarchal but it also happened to make sense to her, so she’d left it alone. And Alessio had insisted on joining them. He said he wanted to capture the views and the journey, but Adelaide was sure he was hoping to advance his investigation. But, for all of that, he was highly capable, and she frankly preferred to keep him where she could see him.

Before they set off, Adelaide had steeled herself for a journey so difficult that she had to abandon the hope of reaching the second peak. She wasn’t a mountain climber, and this was a much more vertical experience than she’d had before. There wasn’t any guarantee that there would be a realistic way up at all — while it didn’t look like Everest or anything, it was possible that they’d find a sheer cliff beyond their ability to surmount. And that was before they had to deal with whatever fauna was in their way.

But, for the four hours they’d hiked so far, it had been remarkably smooth. There had been a break in the vegetation — for now, bright orange vines that spiraled around on themselves — and they had all agreed that it seemed like as sensible a place to start as any. And then, it had just sort of… continued. They had been able to move between the vegetation in a generally uphill direction without having to turn around or deal with any major obstacles. It was a demanding hike, but something a reasonably capable amateur could have comfortably handled. For Adelaide, it was taxing, but not nearly as bad as she’d feared.

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But that ease had created a new problem: the social dynamic. Adelaide had imagined they’d be busy hacking their way through a hostile landscape. But they were sort of just walking, and now it was become clear they didn’t actually know how to talk to each other. Adelaide and Jim and normally been content to give each other some quiet space, but that felt odd now that Alessio was here. And, while Adelaide and Alessio had had pleasant conversations before, it was hard not to see it all as an interview now, and Adelaide found herself even more anxious given that Jim was presumably listening to everything they said.

What that left was Alessio and Jim, which had proved to be more awkward that fruitful. Adelaide listened as the pattern that had been recurring with variations every fifteen minuted occurred again:

A seemingly causal question from Alessio: “What beautiful flowers, don’t you both think?”

A noncommittal “Mmm, yeah” from Adelaide, and silence from Jim.

An undeterred follow up from Alessio: “What’s interesting is that I haven’t seen any bugs. I wonder how they can possibly be pollinated without insect life. Of course, we haven’t observed for long, but still — I’d expect some bugs. Not that I’m complaining!”

Silence from everyone.

A question that Jim couldn’t politely ignore, along with a nominal basis for asking: “Jim, have you seen any bugs around? I brought bug spray if we wind up needing it.”

Jim’s response: “I haven’t been looking, but I don’t think I have seen any.”

Alessio’s immediate response, with an invitation to expand: “Fascinating. Flowers without insects: what a combination! I will have to edit these little videos together into a montage, maybe one of those ones you go to sleep to. And get some for myself — there is something so striking about truly new flowers! Although, Jim, I suppose you must have looked at flowers everywhere you’ve been!”

And Adelaide felt herself settle back into the silence she was anticipating, before Jim broke the pattern.

“I used to.”

Adelaide nearly tripped, and recovered while she waited for Alessio to follow up. That was journalism, she supposed: trying things over and over until you got a tiny crack, and then wedging it open.

But no follow-up questions came. Adelaide looked at Alessio, and he smiled but said nothing. And so she kept walking, listening to the wind stir the flowers.