Caruso woke next to a warm campfire. His mind was murky and muddled and shrouded in fog. It was nighttime. Orange had skewered a firetongue on a stick and was toasting it over the flames. Eve whittled down a new blinking pole with a large hunting knife. Something was out of place, but Caruso couldn’t figure out what. Around and above them, the blue constellation of metamine shroomlights told him he was somewhere in Zone 3. He stayed lying down, enjoying the simple warmth of the fire. He was comfortable—yet something told him he shouldn’t be.

He tried to get his bearings, but his thoughts were sluggish, his memory dreamlike. The sight of Eve’s face hinted at a memory. It was heavily bruised, swollen, and lined with half-formed scabs. There had been a fight. But the details lay just out of reach.

‘Ah, you’re awake,’ Orange said, smiling down at him. Something caused Caruso to feel behind his neck at a small bump there. ‘Sorry about that,’ Orange said. ‘You were running away. And Mang’s poppy darts are remarkably effective at preventing that.’

‘Running away?’ Caruso said, trying to jog his memory. ‘From who?’

‘Hard to say.’ Orange inspected the crisp on his firetongue before returning it to the heat. ‘Don’t fret. The poppy-fog should clear in a minute or two. Enjoy it while it lasts.’

Slowly, fragments of memories connected, but there was still a big hole in the middle. Something important lay shrouded there. Caruso tried to forcibly remove the shroud only to find it guarded by painful emotion. He left it alone for now and instead skirted around its edge, piecing together the bits surrounding it. He remembered Orange was supposed to take him back to the compound.

‘Where are we? Why didn’t you take me to the compound?’

‘Eve said she didn’t want to go.’

Eve kept whittling at her pole, she didn’t look up, she didn’t say anything, but by the state of her face, Caruso figured talking would only aggravate her wounds.

‘Wait…’ Caruso looked between Eve and Orange. Of course. No wonder they had looked out of place.

‘You’re helping Eve?’ Caruso said.

‘Well, she had a rough day.’

Caruso sighed, ‘Are you enjoying keeping me in the dark?’

‘I admit, I am getting quite a kick out of it.’

‘I want to know what happened.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Why are you helping Eve? You’re a Forester.’

‘Why are people constantly trying to pin me down like that?’

‘Are you saying you’re actually an Urqaani?’

‘I’m both and I’m neither. I have my own special brand of serving the Godshroom.’

Caruso tried to make sense of this. ‘Is this another one of your jests?’

‘Everyone is always so quick to applaud the Maji’s wisdom for playing both sides. Yet when I do the same thing, everyone just gets confused and upset. All you need to know is that today, my brand of service included bringing you and Eve here. Unfortunately, there was little I could do about Webber.’

Webber.

The shroud was torn away and everything laid bare. Caruso stared blankly ahead and gave voice to the torrent of memories. ‘Webber is going to the compound to be tortured and killed. And I did nothing to stop it.’

‘There was little you could’ve done,’ Orange said, twisting his firetongue skewer above the fire.

‘I killed Pango.’

Eve stopped whittling. ‘What the fuck did you say?’ She grimaced after she said this, bringing her hand to the gash on her bottom lip.

‘Easy,’ Orange said to her. ‘Ferris would’ve killed him regardless.’

‘But he didn’t. Caruso did.’

Caruso became uncomfortably aware of the large knife in her hand.

‘Eve,’ Orange said. ‘You know more than most how Ferris enjoys forcing people into uncomfortable displays of obedience. It was in everyone’s best interest for Caruso to quickly obey.’

‘Not Pango’s,’ Eve said, staring coldly at Caruso.

‘Would Pango have preferred being killed by Ferris?’ Orange asked.

‘Better than some backstabbing little coward.’ Eve was clearly trying not to move her face much, but gave this up so she could emphasise her last word and fling a look of hate at Caruso.

He didn’t argue with her, he accepted the guilt. Along with his memories came his decision from earlier, still intact. He was done with being a Forester. Done with the shroom circles. Caruso stood up. ‘Orange, thank you for not taking me back to the compound. And Eve… I’m sorry. I should’ve done more.’

‘You’re sorry for murdering my friend?’

‘I’m sorry,’ Caruso said weakly. He turned away from the fire.

‘Are you going somewhere?’ Orange asked.

‘Home. I don’t want to enter the Godshroom. I don’t want to be here. I want to go home.’

‘Good,’ Eve said. ‘Run away, little coward.’

Caruso turned to leave but found his foot threaded to the ground.

‘Hold on,’ Orange said.

‘Am I your prisoner now?’

‘No, you’re not. But it’s a bit rude to just leave.’

‘Please, just point me towards Zone 2, and let me go.’

‘I understand you’re upset and want to sulk. But if you leave now, you will never see me again, and you will live the rest of your life wondering why I brought you here.’ Orange unthreaded Caruso’s foot. ‘Stay and talk for just a little while. If you still feel like leaving afterwards, I promise I won’t stop you.’

‘Fine,’ Caruso went to sit back down.

Eve said, ‘Sit back down and I will stab you. I don’t want you around me anymore.’

‘Eve,’ Orange said. ‘It wasn’t his fault. I know you know that.’

‘I warned him about Ferris. He didn’t listen. Now Pango is dead, and Webber is next.’

‘And will stabbing Caruso help?’

‘Yes.’

‘Then stab him.’

‘Wait, what?’ Caruso said.

Eve pushed herself up but gasped in pain and slumped back down. Orange pulled out the pottle of poppy extract and passed it to Eve. ‘Here. Don’t take too much, just enough to ease your pain and make you a little less stabby. Caruso, please, take a seat, let’s talk.’

He watched Eve dig out some extract and suck it off her fingers. She visibly relaxed. The hatred in her eyes was still there, but it didn’t burn as bright. Caruso knew the feeling, when all problems fade and no longer matter. He almost asked if he could have some extract, but figured he could just pick a fresh poppyshroom when he left.’

Stolen story; please report.

‘I’ll stay for a few minutes,’ Caruso said. ‘But only if you speak plainly to me. I’m in no mood for your cryptic riddles.’

‘Deal.’

‘So, why did you bring me and Eve here?’

‘I don’t know.’

Caruso waited for him to elaborate.

‘It’s true,’ Orange said. ‘I could guess, but I really don’t know. However, if you stick around long enough, I believe we will find out.’

‘Is this what you call speaking plainly?’

‘I’m not sure what I could say to satisfy you. I had no clever strategy, no grandiose plan; I simply listened to the Godshroom and allowed it to guide my hand.’

‘If you were going to disobey Ferris, why not do it earlier so that Webber and Pango could be saved?’

Eve made an agreeing sound and turned her drooping eyes to see Orange’s response. Orange removed his skewer from the heat. He blew on the firetongue a few times before replying. ‘Because I have no intention of fighting Ferris.’

‘I know you can match him in a fight,’ Eve mumbled. ‘If you fought with me, we could’ve taken him.’

‘Perhaps. Or perhaps he would’ve killed us all. You don’t grow as old as I by taking on such heady risks. But another reason is that, unlike you, Eve, I do not wish Ferris dead. Like it or not, he plays a valuable role in our ecosystem. The Foresters are important.’

‘Then why betray him?’ Caruso asked.

‘Ooof. Betray is a harsh word, isn’t it? I think of it more as a refurbishing of his plans. It’s not the first time I’ve done it, and it won’t be the last.’

‘But aren’t you afraid he’ll find out?’ Caruso asked.

‘Oh, he’ll know. But what’s he going to do? There’s no worse colour than orange. Especially now that brown is taken.’

‘Couldn’t he fight you?’ Caruso asked.

‘If he’s grumpy enough, he will, but I’ll steer clear of him until the next world. By then he’ll have calmed down and remembered the reasons why he doesn’t want to fight me.’

‘Which are?’

‘For one, he knows I wouldn’t make for an easy opponent. And for two, he knows I’ll never do anything to really hurt the Foresters—which is true. So I keep my refurbishments small, infrequent, and out of sight. Just enough so that he can maintain his illusion of control. It’s a delicate balance.’ Orange slid his firetongue off the stick, broke it in two and gave half to Caruso. Caruso gave it a tentative nibble. It was crispy, and the spicy heat blossomed on his tongue.

‘They are rather good, aren’t they?’ Orange asked. ‘I’ve become somewhat obsessed since you figured out how to cultivate them.’

‘I’m not sure I like them. Too spicy for me.’ Caruso offered the rest of his to Eve. She shook her head.

‘Eve,’ Caruso said. ‘I can probably make a basic salve for your cuts. They don’t look healthy.’

‘Don’t bother,’ Eve said.

‘But they could get infected.’

Eve shrugged.

‘If Eve was feeling more talkative,’ Orange said. ‘I believe she would say, “Thank you, young man. Your kindness swells my heart and brings a tear to my eye. However, the Godshroom should ripen tomorrow. So there is little use in healing the body I plan to leave behind.”’

‘Tomorrow you enter the Godshroom?’ Caruso asked.

‘Most likely,’ Orange said. ‘There’s about a five day gap between the ripening and the sporing. But I find it’s best to punch your ticket early.’

‘When do you think the Foresters will leave?’

‘They will likely be delayed on account of my little antics. I imagine when Ferris returns to the compound and finds us missing, he will keep Webber there, alive, as bait for both you and Eve. He has this notion that one makes irrational decisions when one’s friends are held hostage and face a gruesome death.’

Caruso dared to allow himself a sliver of hope. ‘Is there any chance we could save him?’

‘Not unless you come up with some genius plan that involves extracting Webber without needing to fight Ferris.’ Orange gave a stern look. ‘It's a trap, Caruso. Ferris wouldn’t set it unless he knew he had already won.’

‘Well, you said Webber hasn’t arrived at the compound yet, right?’

‘Right. But it would be easier to snatch Webber from the compound than it would be from atop Ferris’s horse. I’m sorry. I did consider our options, yet unfortunately, there are none.’

Caruso felt a sinking feeling. Of course there was no saving Webber. He took another bite of firetongue, this time not caring about the burning sensation. ‘If you don’t intend to help Webber, then why even bring us here? Why not just go straight to the Godshroom, or the Urqaani camp?’

‘Let me tell you a story.’

‘Will it answer my question?’

‘Let’s find out. My story takes place on planet Fabrian. This was a dozen or so worlds before your time, Eve. Back then, the Foresters were well established. And back then, I was a good Forester—I even had my old name.’

‘What is your real name?’ Caruso asked.

‘It doesn’t matter. I’m sticking with Orange. Anyway, before we get to Fabrian, a bit of back story first. I’d always been attracted to the simplicity of Ferris’s outlook. He sees the Godshroom for what it offers him: eternal life. He believes that an infinite life has infinite value, and thus no cost can be too high in securing it. It’s an outlook I’ve always agreed with. At first, the Foresters were just a small group of like-minded individuals led by Ferris. Then Niko joined. Niko and Ferris have always shared a very close bond. Some say they are lovers, others say they are closely related, sometimes I wonder if both are true. While I didn’t share this confusing bond, I saw their potential. I knew that with Niko’s political prowess and Ferris’s controlling charisma, we could turn the Foresters into something great. And we did.

‘But many worlds later, on planet Fabrian, my outlook became a little more nuanced than Ferris’s.

‘Fabrian was a strange planet. At first blush, it appeared normal: there were mountains and oceans, trees and animals. The locals lived in bustling cities and simple riverside villages. Nothing out of the ordinary…until we discovered the tunnels.

‘We found one of the entrances inside a cave. The entrance was a perfect triangle, about a dozen paces across, carved into the rock. This peculiar triangular shape stayed consistent throughout its sprawling lengths. The walls were studded with shroomlights allowing us to explore. And explore we did.’

‘What were the shrooms?’ Caruso asked.

‘Funnily enough, the same inert shrooms that make up the shroomlines. And even as the tunnels reached far beneath and away from the mushroom circles, these shroomlights remained. Other entrances were discovered and they all connected into a labyrinthine network that twisted and plunged deep beneath the surface. If the tunnels eventually led to some underground atrium, we never found out. For as the tunnels delved ever deeper, they became too hot to travel down.

‘But this story isn’t about the mystery of the tunnels. If it was, it would be an unsatisfying tale, as no one figured out their purpose, and not even the locals knew who or what built them. The tunnels merely set the scene for a chance encounter I had while exploring them.

‘One day, during my spelunking, I came across a shimmering white pillar. It was as thick as a man and pierced straight down through the triangular tunnel. It took me a while to realise what it was. The tunnel I was in ran directly under the Godshroom, and what I was staring at was none other than the Godshroom’s taproot.

‘I was transfixed. There was something about it. I felt drawn to it, yet I dared not get too close. It had this unknown, indefinable quality to it; a mystical potency that part of me feared. Like staring into a fire. I kept my distance, but bathed in its presence for hours before going back to the surface.

‘The next day, I returned. Why I returned, I wasn’t sure. I just knew I wasn’t done with it yet. I followed the same twisting and turning and plunging path for hours, but upon reaching the Godroot, I found someone else there. Unlike me, he did not keep his distance from the shimmering shaft. He stood embracing it, arms wrapped around it, face intimately close. I cleared my throat loudly and said “Hope I’m not interrupting anything.” He made no sign of hearing me. I tapped him on the shoulder—still no reaction. So I peeled his arms from the Godroot and pulled him back. His eyes slowly opened. It was the Maji.’

Orange stopped to take a bite of his firetongue and, Caruso expected, for a dramatic pause.

‘I asked the Maji what he was doing. He said he was listening. I told him I couldn’t hear anything. He said not to listen with my ears, but with my entire being. I wasn’t quite sure what that meant, so instead I asked what he could hear. He told me it was the language of the Godshroom. He asked if I wished to understand what it was saying. I said yes—I was fairly certain my prior question already implied that, but I didn’t mention this. He told me that in order to understand the Godshroom’s language, I must first learn how to properly listen. Then, he offered to teach me. I agreed, figuring it would take fifteen minutes, tops. Instead, his tutelage lasted over two hundred years.’

Orange paused again to take a sip of water.

‘What exactly did he teach you?’ Caruso asked.

‘He taught me how to listen to nothing.’

‘Nothing?’

‘He said that we already know how to listen. We do it all the time. The problem is we lack control over what we listen to. We split our focus too thin, and don’t allow any singular facet to accumulate any depth. He taught me how to listen to nothing. To pay attention to the space between things. It is in this space where the Godshroom communicates.

‘At first, this communication was too vague and subtle to understand. But every world since, I learnt to decipher more. I still think I have a ways to go. Even now, all I get is shadowy whispers, whiffs of complexity, ethereal motes of meaning that scatter like spores on a strong breeze. However, every now and then, I get something more substantial. Like a gust of wind carrying a snippet of a far off conversation. But the Godshroom doesn’t communicate in words, you experience the communication like you would a natural instinct that urges you to drink water, or protect an infant, or to step on a dried, crunchy leaf.

‘The point to all this is, I no longer see the Godshroom in the simplistic way I once did. I still agree with that perspective, but I am learning that it doesn’t capture the whole picture. Similar to how a portrait can never quite capture the depth in someone’s eyes. The Godshroom is slowly opening its eyes to me, and I am becoming aware of a hidden kingdom of majesty within. It's not just a mushroom that can grant eternal life; It has intelligence, It has design. And I’m learning to listen and respond and live in a way that is more in line with Its wisdom.

‘So, Caruso, does that answer your original question?’

‘Not really.’

‘Well, In my defence, I don’t quite recall what you asked.’

‘I just wanted to know why you brought us here.’

‘Ah. Well, I can’t answer that, other than saying a little tingle in my spine told me I should. But as far as the Godshroom’s communications go, this was a strong one. I don’t believe It wanted you returning to the Foresters.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because It somehow knows It would be better off if you didn’t. Perhaps It has other plans for you. Perhaps whatever you learnt at the anima station you were not supposed to share with Niko and Ferris.’

‘I didn’t learn anything there. It was hopeless.’

Orange raised an eyebrow. ‘Are you sure? I find that hard to believe. Indulge me.’