Piece Simul ✔

Chapter 25-Samuel-On the Ground

They spent an hour collecting samples and navigating around dense pockets of vegetation. Since Samuel was the only one with research experience, he dubbed Russ and Tiptree his assistants. Eventually, Genly proved more reliable.

He was half tempted to send the ladies back up to the main crafts, but he kept his mouth shut and let them tag along, even if their contribution was minimal and somewhat of a distraction, at least on the part of Russ. He still didn't know where to place Tiptree on the scale of attraction.

"Beautiful," the bot said.

Samuel fumbled with the latest sample. "What did you say?"

"Beautiful prismatic structuring," the bot explained, briefly holding out what resembled an emerald cradled in curling leaves.

"Yes, let's bag it, shall we?" Samuel suggested.

He added the sample to the large cooling device the bot wheeled behind their caravan.

"Don't you think we have enough now?" Russ asked.

Tiptree rested while Russ continually surveyed the surroundings. For the last ten minutes, she had dropped hints about returning to the ship. For the most part, he had ignored her.

"Hardly," he said, sidling along to capture more images.

"Why can't we get airborne again and check for outposts?" Tiptree fanned herself, though the weather was temperate.

"Control's orders. First we retrieve samples, then initiate contact if necessary," Russ said. She hesitated, looking ready to say more, but she kept her mouth closed.

Samuel glanced at her, briefly admiring her form once more. "Yes, that's right. We had the same training, or didn't you remember, Tiptree?"

She shrugged.

Then it occurred to Samuel her research wouldn't begin until they made contact. She was bored.

"We're almost full up, then we'll get airborne. Russ, you can go now if you'd like," he said.

"No, we move together. Captain needs us back soon, anyhow. Pack up, guy." Russ sauntered to her pod, the Control bot trailing behind her like a puppy.

"But we're not done!" he called after her.

She sliced her hand through air, her first show of frustration. Static burst from a device hanging from her starsuit. She paused, listening.

"What?" Tiptree asked.

More static surged, and Russ shushed Tiptree.

"Is that the---" Samuel began, but she cut him off with a finger to her lips.

Nothing happened, and a long silence stretched and died.

Samuel raised a brow. "Guess it was nothing."

"No, there's something," Russ murmured.

The bot motioned to the device, which she handed over.

"The message's frequency is below optimal volume," it said.

It turned the ansible over and over, as if searching for an answer along the surface.

"Message?" Tiptree studied the device with interest. "What's it saying?"

"They're here, and they know us," the bot intoned. "The last line keeps spelling out 'Guin', like a signature."

"What's that mean?" Samuel asked.

"Is she okay? I thought she was on the ship," Tiptree said.

Russ kept her back to them, not answering.

"Russ." Tiptree settled a hand on her shoulder, but she still remained fixed in place.

"We, uh," she cleared her throat, "need to get back. Now."