Since the memories of the bunker returned to me, I couldn’t stop thinking about Albert and Neight. Their appearances were simultaneously similar, yet strikingly different in certain aspects. I began to wonder if Neight could actually be Albert, grown up.
But why would he introduce himself with a different name? We got along well in the past. On the other hand, I also used a different name... Could he be upset about that?
His reaction when we first met on the ship puzzled me. It didn’t seem like he remembered me. Or maybe he was just very good at hiding it.
Could Albert have forgotten about me because of the experiments that were conducted on him? That might explain his changed appearance and character.
I decided I needed to find out about Neight’s past to make sense of this situation. But I had to proceed cautiously. If Albert's mind had been tampered with, my curiosity could put me in a dangerous situation, one where he might see me as someone who knows too much and get rid of me. Besides, I couldn't completely rule out the possibility that Neight and Albert were not the same person.
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A local week passed. During that time, I fully recovered and was able to participate in all the daily tasks. It was tough, but I even managed to somewhat adapt to the early mornings and daily food preparations. Of course, Neight took on some of the dirtier jobs, like butchering, for which I was endlessly grateful.
Speaking of Neight... I wasn’t able to find out anything. Absolutely nothing. I tried to approach various topics indirectly, avoiding direct questions, but he responded in the most vague terms, using general phrases or completely changing the subject. However, one thing became clear: he wasn’t planning on opening up to me. Perhaps my excessive caution played a role as well. After all, I wasn’t in a hurry to share the details of my past either.
Looks like I’ll have to take a risk...
At that moment, we were moving deeper into the forest towards a new area Neight had discovered during one of his scouting trips. Frankly, even without considering my investigation, things were going poorly for us. We still hadn’t found a permanent source of drinking water, which was critically important for our survival. Yes, the ship had a partially closed system for water purification and recycling, but it couldn’t endlessly clean and return previously used water. As Neight had said, it was a research vessel, not designed for long-term habitation in a hostile environment. We had no more than two months. Maybe that was also weighing on Neight. If I hadn’t spent some time with him, I probably wouldn’t have noticed that he was in a bad mood.
Then I remembered a story from my childhood, perhaps a silly one, but harmless enough. I just wanted to cheer us up, and at the same time, try to take the first steps toward getting closer to Neight. In any case, I hoped that personal stories might help spark an open conversation.
"You know, when I was little, my mom loved reading old folk tales to me. In one of them, the hero used willow branches to find water for a magical well. I was so impressed by the story that I broke off a branch from our apple tree in the yard and ran around the neighborhood with it. I was probably about five years old at the time," I said with a smile.
These memories, reflecting a happy part of my past, were comforting. It was as if I had momentarily plunged into that warm summer when everything was good, peaceful, and calm.
"You must have had fun back then," Neight's voice suddenly brought me back to reality.
"Yes, very much," I replied sincerely and then continued. "The funniest part is that I ended up stumbling upon a small puddle, and to me, it felt like real magic! Maybe it sounds silly now, but back then I was a little impressionable child. You might laugh, but I even named that puddle 'Sunshine Lake' because the sun reflected in it."
Unexpectedly, Neight, who was walking ahead as usual, abruptly stopped as if struck by lightning. I grew tense, but I couldn’t understand what had happened.
Was he really affected by my story? Or is it something else? What on earth is going on?!
"According to my information, dowsing is considered a pseudoscientific practice and is likely based on the placebo effect," he suddenly declared seriously, turning to me.
What, excuse me? What are you even talking about?
Neight’s reaction and words left me stunned. I didn’t even know how to respond. Through the helmet, I couldn’t see his face, but his tone suggested that he took my story seriously.
"Nevertheless," Neight continued, "you’ve given me a great idea. Since we can’t find open water sources, we should try searching underground. Yes, drilling a well would be an excellent solution!"
Pleased with himself and seemingly reinvigorated, Neight set off with a slightly springy step toward our destination. I stared after him, wide-eyed, still trying to process what had just happened.
I thought something serious had happened, and he’s still focused on that…
"Evie, don’t fall behind!" I heard the familiar phrase.
"Okay…"
Sigh, once again, I failed to get him to open up, I thought, letting out a heavy sigh. But at least I managed to lift his spirits.
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After finishing our work, we were making our way back to the ship through the thicket. During the few days of harvesting, I had often recalled how I inwardly gloated at Neight when he clumsily moved around, getting his backpack caught on everything. Now I could fully experience all those 'joys' myself, and it wasn’t as funny anymore. The worst part was that I couldn’t seem to get used to the size of the container, so it felt like I was snagging every branch along the way. Because of this, Neight constantly had to wait for me. Thankfully, I didn’t have to carry much weight on my back, as after our first joint outing, Neight suggested filling the container no more than a third full. I didn’t mind at all.
Right now, the load was even lighter since our goal was to collect blue berries, which weren’t abundant. Yes, those were the same berries Neight added to our food when he cooked during the first days. As it turned out, they were the main source of the unpleasant taste, leaving a lingering aftertaste. However, if you mashed them up and added enough sugar, they made a decent jam. Neight often complained that using so much sugar was an inefficient use of resources, though I bet he really liked the dessert. By the way, I named the berries Softberry because of their softness and unusual elasticity. I agree, it’s not the most original name, but it works as a placeholder. At least Neight approved.
You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.
Our last conversation only confirmed my suspicions that he often takes everything literally and primarily relies on logic. A rationalist. And obsessed with efficiency. It seemed like there was no way to reach him through emotions. Would I really have to ask direct, blunt questions? Although I was frightened by the possible terrible outcomes, it seemed I had no other choice. The only thing that comforted me was his relatively friendly and even somewhat caring attitude toward me. It didn’t seem like he had any intention of harming me.
Here goes nothing, I thought, gathering my courage. I hope I won’t regret this.
"Neight, listen," I began hesitantly. "I wanted to talk to you about something..."
"Tss..." he hissed in response.
Oh, come on! What’s wrong with you? I’m trying to have a serious conversation, and you...
At first, I didn’t understand what was happening and nearly exploded with anger. But apparently, while I was lost in my thoughts, I hadn’t noticed that Neight had stopped and was carefully watching something in the bushes.
"Stand still and don’t move," he whispered. "And it’s better if you don’t look over there."
He shouldn’t have said that. Everyone knows that if you’re told not to look, you’ll inevitably turn your head. Just like that, I froze in place and reflexively glanced in the direction of the ominous bushes. I expected to see a threat, a predator lying in wait, but instead, I was met with an entirely different sight. As if out of a fairy tale, illuminated by beams of light, an emerald bird with its chicks peacefully nibbled at the grass. How beautiful they looked here, outside, in the wild! Their feathers shimmered and sparkled like precious gems. The little ones kept playfully jumping and hopping around, flapping their tiny wings, playing with each other, and occasionally nibbling at the grass. But as soon as they strayed a bit from their mother, they would clumsily run back to her. I had never seen such a sight in the wild before, and I was so captivated that I even held my breath so as not to scare off the wild birds.
This is incredible! Why did Neight ask me not to look? So I’d miss out on such beauty?
I shifted my gaze to Neight and was horrified.
"Neight?.. What are you doing?" I asked cautiously, refusing to believe my eyes. He was standing with a weapon in hand, aiming at the defenseless birds. "You’re not actually going to..."
"They’re easy prey," he interrupted me, speaking in a measured tone. "We’re very lucky. And I did tell you not to look."
A series of shots shattered the silence, startling all the living creatures around. Fear, anger, and resentment washed over me. I wished I really hadn’t looked. Biting my lip and clenching my fists tightly, I barely held back tears.
How can anyone be so cruel? Is there anything human left in him? I questioned myself. I didn’t want to talk to him anymore, didn’t want to see him. And I didn’t care anymore if he was Neight or Albert or whoever. He can go to hell!
Unable to hold back any longer and with no desire to stay here, I bolted forward, heading toward the ship.
"Evie, stop!" came the voice from the speaker, but I had no intention of obeying.
I didn’t care that my feet kept getting caught in the thick underbrush, causing me to nearly fall. It didn’t matter that branches kept unpleasantly striking my helmet. It didn’t matter that running was hard and my breath was quickly becoming labored, my leg muscles aching. I was willing to endure it all, as long as I didn’t have to stop. It seemed I didn’t even care which direction I was running...
But it didn’t last long. I felt a sudden pull on my backpack, which I was carrying on my shoulders, then was spun around 180 degrees. Before I could react, Neight appeared in front of me, firmly grabbing both of my arms.
"Don’t touch me!" I screamed, writhing and trying with all my might to break free from his grip. Unfortunately, it was to no avail. Neight seemed to hold me with ease.
"Stop and calm down," he said firmly after a while of my futile attempts to free myself. "I understand you’re angry at me, but I did warn you that you shouldn’t see that."
"So what if you warned me?! What difference would it have made? It's even better that I saw your true cruel nature!"
In response, he sighed heavily.
"You can hate me if you want," he continued, "but please don’t run away like that. You’ve already strayed off the path and could have gotten lost if I hadn’t caught up with you. Something bad could have happened to you..."
Hearing these words, I completely stopped resisting and looked around. The area was unfamiliar, different from what I had grown accustomed to over the past few days. The bark of the trees was clean without a single mark, the grass was untouched and didn’t form convenient but narrow trails. There was even a bright red flower with fern-like leaves in the distance, something I hadn’t seen until now. Undoubtedly, I had lost my way while running. I felt uneasy. And though my anger hadn’t subsided, I was filled with shame for my reckless behavior.
"Wh-why?" I asked in a quiet, trembling voice, lowering my gaze. "Why do you bother with me? I’m more trouble than I’m worth... It would be easier for you alone, and you’d use half as many resources..."
I was afraid to hear his answer, but the words came out on their own, driven by pure emotion rather than reason. Could he say, "Yes, you’re right. You’re nothing but trouble"? Could he just leave me here and abandon me? But what scared me most was his silence.
"Are you asking why?" he finally began after a painful pause. "Because I don’t want to die. Believe it or not, but my chances of survival increase significantly with you around, no matter how selfish that sounds."
I looked at him in disbelief, though he clearly couldn’t see my face hidden under the helmet. It was hard for me to believe that I could be of any value. As if reading my thoughts, Neight continued his explanation:
"Yes, you have zero survival skills in the wild, you lack knowledge of modern technology, and you don’t possess any crucial information that could help us achieve our goal..."
Well, thanks! Now I feel even more useless and worthless...
"But..."
But? I repeated silently, waiting to hear what else he would say.
"That’s okay," Neight calmly said. "You weren’t supposed to have any of those skills or knowledge because you’ve spent your entire life in a completely different, more comfortable environment. You just need time to adapt and learn everything you need to, so don’t be too hard on yourself. You’re already putting in a lot of effort. Sometimes even too much."
Neight clearly emphasized the last phrase, hinting at some of my initiatives and acts of defiance. But I really did feel better after hearing his words.
"Thank you..." I said quietly. "And I’m sorry for running off like that."
At these words, Neight completely loosened his grip and let me go, finally convinced that I had calmed down and was no longer planning to run away.
"Although I must tell you," I finally decided to speak up, "that I absolutely don’t approve of what you did back there, with that family of emerald birds... There were just chicks... It’s too cruel!"
"Any predator, given the opportunity, wouldn’t miss its chance either. And by the way, neither you nor I would be spared by it."
"But we’re humans, not wild animals!"
"I don’t see much of a difference," Neight insisted. "We only surpass them in intelligence, nothing more."
His words made me think. Nevertheless, it wasn’t enough for me to change my point of view.
"I can’t agree with you. What makes us human are our moral principles and beliefs, not just our intellect."
I couldn’t tell if my words had any impact on him at all. It was hard to have a conversation without seeing the other person’s face.
"You have the right to your own opinion," Neight finally said. "For now, I suggest we end this argument. We need to head back and retrieve the prey. I believe it would truly be cruel if those birds died in vain."
Even though it pained me deeply, I didn’t argue with that.