It takes me the better part of an hour but I finally manage to get that stupid platform into the bed of the trailer hitched to my truck, no thanks to Xeno, who makes a terrible, terrible cheerleader by the way.

It lays flat but I strap it down and cover it with a tarp anyway. Then I sit in the driver seat, eating an apple with the air on full blast. The radio signal is no longer broadcasting. Everything out there is static. I’m drenched in sweat and I keep thinking about the world around me.

So many people are dead. I think of my parents, who died in a car wreck, and my brother, taken by Leukemia when we were just kids. I wonder if Jim made out okay.

“Not to rush you, Jack, but, uh, you ready for a climb yet?”

I take a sip from my water jug and let out a sigh. “You’re sure this other marble is only accessible from on top of the vessel? Because this thing is a freaking mountain.”

“I’m not sure if it’s accessible at all, Jack, but if it is, yes, it will be from a certain area up top.”

I rub my face with my left hand—I’m learning to be more ambidextrous—and pinch the bridge of my nose. I can feel a headache coming on.

“Okay,” I say, turning the ignition. “Let's go see if there’s any place we can climb.”

I pull out of the grotto, leaving my popped tire behind in its gaping maw.

—•—•—•—

“What about there?” says Xeno, as we drive along, just inside the lip of the impact crater. We’ve been at this for about forty-five minutes now.

“No, it's too steep.

“Okay, how about that collapsed section right there?”

“Maybe, but those jagged crystals look super sharp. I’m not in the mood to get skewered.”

“What about—”

“Xeno, it’s a big ship, as you well know. I know we’re in a hurry but you have to calm down.”

He’s silent for a moment, then he says, “I want to go home, Jack.”

I nod. “I know. We’ll get you back to your star, buddy, don’t worry.”

“I mean, you’re fun and all but—”

“I get it,” I say.

“Oh, I can’t wait to show my siblings all about human language. It will blow their—Oh, that reminds me, I have a new favorite word.”

“Yeah? What is it?”

“Aubergine.”

“What is … oh, wait. I know that. What is that? Hold on, it’s on the tip of my tongue.”

“It’s purple and its likeness is often used to represent a pen—”

“Eggplant, of course,” I say, slapping the wheel. “Why is that your favorite word?”

“I don’t know. I just love the way it sounds. Aubergine. Auber …gine.”

I try the word out a few times as well.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

“You know, that reminds me of something. You’ve gotta warn me when you’re about to strike someone, man. I know it’s kind of a gray area, and we’ve never really discussed it, but you make me a little nervous sometimes.”

“Okay?” says Xeno. “What’s that have to do with the word Aubergine?”

“Let’s make that our code word for ‘I’m about to come out and kill people,’ okay?”

“I don’t think I need to ask you for approval to use my body, Jack.”

“Not for permission,” I say, cringing, rolling my eyes. “Just a warning. I hate not knowing, is all.”

“Okay, I guess that’s fair. Like, ‘Hey, Jack, this guy is being a total douchebag so I’m going to give him the Aubergine.’ Something like that?”

“Uh, sure,” I say. “More or less—oh, hey, that spot looks good. It’s completely flattened. Do you see that right there?” I say, pointing. “That slope doesn’t look all that steep either, I think I could manage that.”

“Great!” says Xeno. “About friggin time.”

—•—•—•—

“You’re kidding me,” I say, removing my hand from the ground. And when I say ground I mean the busted up surface of the top of his vessel. It takes the entire rest of the day just to get up here—longest hike of my life—only for Xeno to give me the bad news.

“Nope, sorry, Jack, I can’t get to it.”

I collapse on my back with a sigh.

It's starting to get chilly, which is strange for July. Or is it August now? Either one, it shouldn’t be cold. Then again, we are up super high. Thank the progenitors I had the insight to bring thermal underwear, a heavy coat, and a flashlight. And some water.

“Well, what do we do?” I say.

“The top layer is dead. If only I could access three feet down I could trigger a pull.”

“Well what about that spot way over there? It looks like someone pried it open with a can opener.”

“Won’t work. I need to access the node underneath you. There’s about a six foot radius around you that would work. You don’t think you could steal an excavator and drive it up here, do you? You know what I’m talking about? One of those big fancy construction machines with the arm and the scoop at the end of—”

“I know what an excavator is, Xeno. And no, there’s no way I’m getting one of those up there.”

“Why not?”

I sit up, scratch my head, rub my face. I take a sip of water and watch the sun descending beneath the vessel, giving Xeno a good, long moment to think about how stupid that sounds.

“Hello? Jack. Earth to—”

“First of all,” I say, holding up a finger. “I don’t even know where one is. Second, I could barely make that climb on my feet. No way I could do it in a big machine. Are you kidding me? That ended up being much harder than I thought it would be. Last of all, I don’t even know how to use one. You’re in my brain, you know this.”

“Well, I guess you’re using a shovel then. Although I seriously doubt you’d have the arm strength to penetrate the—”

“Wait,” I say, and get to my feet. “I have an idea. Where are we?”

“Uh, we’re on top of my vessel, Jack. Duh.”

“No I meant … Lisiten, you can access all my memories, right? Can you find the one where we took that unsanctioned field trip with Mr. Hienz, my freshman year geology teacher, to that uranium mine for a tour?”

“The one he got sacked for because he brought a bus full of underaged kids to see how uranium is extracted and processed? Because, well, uranium?”

“Yeah he had an uncle that managed the mine. He was a great teacher. Anyways, I remember it being about seventy miles south of Arches National Park south of Mount Peele and east of Moab. Since we’re in Arches, or what used to be Arches, maybe it still exists.”

“Why would you want to go to a uranium mi—oooh! Jack, that’s clever. You want to blow the top off.”

“Not with the uranium, mind you,” I say. “I’m not looking to go nuclear. But I remember they used C4 to expand the mines.”

“That might work. Only problem is, uh … we don’t know how to use C4. And I’m not thrilled about the prospect of getting blown to bits.”

“We absolutely need this marble to build the gate and get me to the other world, and you back to your star, correct?”

“Yes, but—”

“And an ice age is coming, right?”

“Right, but—”

“Then I’m sure we can figure it out. You have a better idea?”

There’s a pause, then, “Well, the excavator—”

“We’re not getting a freaking excavator up here, Xeno. It's a good idea in theory, it’s just not practical.”

“Just seems a bit, I don’t know … less messy.”

I drop my head and groan. Then I let out a long breath and look around.

“There’s no way I’m making that climb back down to the truck in the dark,” I say, pulling my flashlight from the hook on my belt. Looks like we’re camping up here tonight.”