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The Zero-G Cave was the only place Brookite could think of to go that would allow them any kind of privacy. Skirting through the village would invite inquiries about their imminent trip to space, and that wasn’t something Brookite could handle at the moment. Tuff would be in the mine proper, but Brookite had no reason to go so far into the cave.
Just at the bottom of the elevator shaft, before the spare spacesuit, Brookite sat themselves on a crate in the glinting, star-like blackness. Midway between the training suit and the elevator, Brookite was left with no light from either end. With elbows propped on their knees, Brookite rubbed at their face with both hands. Blood pounded deafeningly in their ears.
They should have kept their mouth shut, they knew that, but they’d just gotten so overwhelmed in the moment. Of all those Brookite wanted to return Feldspar to, Hornfels was top of the list. They knew the grief and sorrow was yawning, cavernous, bottomless for so many in the village—particularly the other founders of the Outer Wilds Ventures.
Brookite’s heart went out to all of them, but they just couldn’t bear seeing the wetness in Hornfels’s eyes or hearing the crack in their voice when talking about certain exhibits in the museum.
Hornfels was like a parent to Brookite, and they wanted to do anything in their power to make them happy. To make all of them happy.
And Brookite could.
“Stupid, stupid, stupid. Should have just kept quiet and you could have been out there by now…! If Hornfels didn’t believe you, there’s no way Gossan would. You barely even believe yourself!”
“I believe you. I think Gossan wants to believe you. And you should absolutely believe yourself.”
It was only by some miracle that Brookite didn’t cry out in surprise when Gabbro’s soft, earnest voice emanated from the darkness—though their ears drew back against their skull. As it was, they only gasped sharply, rendering themselves unable to vocalize anything anyway. Completely lost in their own head and downward spiraling thoughts, Brookite had not heard the recall of the elevator and the subsequent descent.
Brookite remained hunched, though now their arms folded tightly across their middle. They turned towards the direction of Gabbro’s voice. The curdling anxiety spiked aggressively, sending pins and needles rushing through Brookite’s veins.
Hazy dreams and turbulent memories—not their own; another Brookite’s—flitted across their mind.
(crashing a ship they have never flown)
Brookite wanted to speak to Gabbro numerous times over the past five years but could never gather the courage.
(at an island they do not recognize)
If Brookite could infer anything from their lifetime of dreams, nightmares, and what they had finally—relatively recently—acknowledged as memories, it was that Gabbro would be the one to confide in.
(on a planet they have never been to)
Yet Brookite would always talk themselves out of it with “but it’s not the same Gabbro; you can’t be certain”.
“I mean, we were time buddies before, weren’t we?” There was a pregnant pause, a swell of silence, where Brookite sat frozen in shock, “Oh! Does this make us universe buddies, now?”
(“On the other hand, Gabbro’s, y’know, Gabbro.”)
A gentle touch landed on Brookite’s shoulder from out of the darkness when they sniffled and buried their face in their hands again. They breathed heavily, not quite moved to tears, but feeling instead as if an iron band loosened from around their lungs. Brookite could breathe again—maybe for the first time.
“Ah…” They cleared their throat, “Yeah. Universe buddies.”
Of course Gabbro would be Gabbro. Despite the definite differences between the Gabbro Brookite grew up with and the Gabbro that had lounged peacefully within the turbulent winds of Giant’s Deep, Gabbro would be Gabbro.
Some things never changed, even from one universe to the next.
Gabbro spoke into the silence.
“Never knew what my dreams and nightmares really meant, no matter how long and hard I pondered. It always felt like I was missing a crucial piece until you hatched, even if you hatched with Riebeck. And, I mean, if we have a quantum rock in our museum that moves when unobserved, who’s to say that what I’ve been dreaming about for years aren’t memories of something in a previous universe?”
The warm anchor of Gabbro’s hand moved from Brookite’s shoulder to pat their head a few times before retracting. Brookite’s crooked ear twitched in response. Brookite finally looked up and in what they assumed was Gabbro’s direction. They were all words Brookite was thrilled to hear, but sour doubt and familiar denial edged at the corner of their mind all the same.
“Isn’t it a bit…fantastical? Unreal?"
Movement in the darkness. Rock on rock. Gabbro grunting softly as they backed up to the wall and slid down to sit on the ground beside Brookite’s crate. Brookite’s ears lowered anxiously; their heart beat a violent rhythm in their skull.
“Oh, completely. But you believe you know where Feldspar is. Isn’t that knowledge derived from the same place as all the ‘fantastical’ and ‘unreal’ stuff?”
Brookite’s mouth gaped open and closed a few times, and never have they been so grateful to be in pitch darkness. Gabbro was right, of course. Maybe Gabbro had even had the same suspicions about Brookite over the years.
“You never said anything before…” Brookite didn’t know how to finish the sentence, grimacing because they hadn’t meant for it to sound like an accusation.
“Neither did you, universe buddy,” an amiable tone and then a beat of silence, “But I was going to say something before you took off on your first flight. You’d sometimes have this air about you when you look at Riebeck, Chert, Esker…me. You’d stare sad holes into Feldspar sometimes when they weren’t looking. Like you wanted to stop them flying.”
The longer Gabbro spoke, the more Brookite hunched on the crate.
But how was Brookite supposed to verbalize the bone-deep need to keep Feldspar on Timber Hearth? About the uneasy premonitions in their dreams, of another life where Feldspar was beyond every Hearthian’s reach. About how, when news of Feldspar’s disappearance, and presumed death, was told to the entire village, Brookite felt as if they’d been socked in the gut. The oddest sense of déjà vu and crushing guilt had overcome them, intense enough to make them feel ill.
They had been ill in the end, and Riebeck had taken that opportunity to care for them to take their mind off their own grief.
“That’s embarrassing…"
Gabbro chuckled but denied nothing.
“If it helps, I don’t think anyone but me noticed? Esker might have, but only because they’re really sharp. And if the others have anything similar to what we have going on, Esker’s lived with it the longest. I bet watching all of us hatch was surreal. Maybe eerie. Definitely spooky.”
“If you were gonna find me before my flight, how’d you find me here? Not like this is on the way to the landing pad.”
“Mmm, well…”
A stone sank in Brookite’s stomach and heat rushed to their face, deepening the already always-present amber flush. For the third time Brookite’s face sank into their hands, and they groaned.
‘Of course…’
“You heard me arguing with Hornfels…”
The quarrel flashed through Brookite’s mind again
“Yeah, pretty much. I waited out by the quantum shard in the museum until you left, then just followed you here.”
Brookite had considered going to the launch pad anyway, but knew there wouldn’t be anything to do. They needed to process everything before making any sort of decision, and the Zero-G Caves were the best place to do so away from prying eyes.
“Your self-awareness is really bad, buddy. I wasn’t far behind you at all,” Gabbro’s light tone removed most of the sting from the words, and Brookite knew nothing was meant by it.
Ears pinning back against their skull for several seconds, Brookite grumbled something about Gabbro being far too sneaky for their own good.
“What do you mean you think Gossan wants to believe me, anyway? Unle—no, nu-uh…”
“’Fraid so. They walked to the observatory with me when I passed by the caves. Had something of their own to ask Hornfels. Completely unrelated, actually,” Gabbro paused briefly, “I can’t believe I managed to stop them before they interrupted you two. If Gossan and Hornfels got into it, I don’t know if the two of us could’ve broken it up on our own… Had to practically drag them back down the stairs before you two noticed."
Brookite leaned their head back against the rocky wall and stared sightlessly up at the inky, twinkling blackness.
The memory was vague, but Brookite recalled the spats between Gossan and Slate after Feldspar disappeared. Hornfels, Esker, and Porphy had tried their best to mediate—oftentimes in vain. It was only thanks to Porphy’s beseeching that Gossan at last gave up flying out to try and bring Feldspar home. Slate’s stance on the matter was clear: to them, Feldspar was lost, and watching Gossan continue to fly in search of them was too difficult. Too painful.
What if Slate lost Gossan as well?
“I…think Gossan believes Feldspar is still alive,” Brookite whispered, dangling their hands between their knees. Their fingers twitched, itched for something—anything—to mess with.
“Yeah, I think so, too,” Gabbro sighed, and then chuckled softly, “Hearing you entreat Hornfels made me think you knew something more than the little I do. Maybe you have dreams like me; no other reason you should be so adamant about it all, I thought.”
There was something incredibly surreal about speaking so openly about a topic Brookite had spent many long years burying and trying to ignore.
(beautifully starry dreams, horrifically scorching nightmares, infinite loops of memories)
All of them built up in Brookite’s throat as a senseless jumble of words.
(it was too much; images and thoughts, jagged and painfully sharp)
Brookite bit their lip and ran a hand over their face.
“There’s so much, Gabbro. There is so much, but I don’t even know where to start and we— You have the launch codes!”
Brookite turned so suddenly on the crate that they nearly misjudged its size and toppled off the side. They righted themself just barely, hands braced between their legs on one corner of the crate.
“Funny you should mention that, universe buddy. Turns out I do.”
The crate rocked and clattered from the force of Brookite practically launching off it. Blind in the cave’s pitch black, Brookite reached towards where they’d heard Gabbro’s voice and began patting around for something solid to latch onto.
Nope, that was an ear.
That was definitely a cheek.
Brookite reached lower, successfully latched onto Gabbro’s upper arms, and hauled them up with Gabbro laughing quietly all the while.
Excitement buzzed throughout Brookite’s veins, sparking new life and energy into their tired mind and heart. Hope blossomed with sudden, intense heat in their chest, filling them with the same urgent drive that pushed them into Gossan’s rigorous training.
“I gotta get to my ship, Gabbro! I can go get Feldspar, thank you, buddy, I dunno how I can properly repay you!”
The Zero-G Caves were quite familiar to Brookite, and they knew the distances to and from things quite well without their sight. Brookite effortlessly dragged the taller and lankier Gabbro back over to the elevator.
“Oh that’s easy. Let me onto your ship and we’ll call it even. I even made sure to grab my suit before coming to get you.”
Surprised, Brookite looked at Gabbro as the elevator ascended. Their…universe buddy (yes, that felt right) was leaning casually against one of the wooden supports of the elevator and returning the look evenly. True, in the growing light from the outside, Brookite saw that Gabbro was indeed already wearing their spacesuit. Their helmet was secured under one arm, and they even had their flute tucked into their belt.
They looked unnaturally serious—not that Gabbro wasn’t ever serious, but Brookite wasn’t used to seeing it themself. There was a determined, hardened look in their normally genial countenance. Rather than intimidate, it spurred Brookite on and bolstered their resolve.
“I want my fishing buddy back. And you might need help getting them out of—where, exactly?”
The wooden elevator shuddered to a halt and the gate opened. Brookite and Gabbro exited at the same time. Brookite pursed their lips and their ears drooped, making the cockeyed left ear look even more crooked.
“Dark Bramble."
Gabbro inhaled sharply and sped towards the cave’s exit. Brookite matched them, and within moments the pair was sprinting into the sunlight, down the winding path past the museum and observatory. They shot right by Tephra, who gasped and jumped energetically with a “whoop!”, not knowing what was going on but happy to cheer on what, by all appearances, was a race of some sort.
The sun had at last reached the apex of her climb into the sky, and strong sunlight streamed through the tall-reaching trees. The end of Gabbro’s green scarf—shorter than Gossan’s, and wrapped more snugly around their shoulders—flapped in the wind as they ran.
Brookite was more solidly built than Gabbro, but Gabbro had zero trouble keeping up. They leapt over fallen branches with fluid grace. Neither of them took any time to calculate jumping from one ledge to the next towards the main village campfire, and it was miraculous that neither of them tripped so far.
As it was, Brookite fumbled the last jump the slightest bit. They didn’t quite go down onto their knees, but they had to catch themself with a hand, scraping their palm on the rocky earth. Gabbro didn’t slow, expertly skirting around both the campfire and Brookite’s sleeping bag towards the elevator.
Brookite on the other hand, with their focus momentarily broken by their stumble, was taken aback by the sight of Slate stretched out on their log and a jar of open sapwine cradled close to their chest. Their welding mask was astonishingly still on their head, but it was horribly askew.
And they were snoring. Loudly.
At the little portion of clear space on one end of the log sat a very satisfied-looking Porphy who waved cheerily at Brookite.
“Wha—Porphy? What are yo—”
Still grinning—rather mischievously, Brookite realized belatedly—Porphy shook their head, put a finger to their lips, and waved Brookite towards the elevator. Brookite didn’t even have time to properly react before they were tugged unceremoniously towards the elevator to the launch platform by Gabbro.
“Wai—Gabbro, what’s Porphy—?”
Gabbro dragged the hatchling—one day Brookite would pass their sapwine ritual—into the elevator. Brookite watched without really registering as Gabbro punched in the launch codes and the sturdy structure whirred and clattered to life and began its ascent.
“They’re helping keep Slate occupied. If Hornfels told them that you were unfit for flight, you know Slate never would’ve let you up. And if Hornfels didn’t tell Slate, they still wouldn’t have let you up if you didn’t know the launch codes.”
Brookite blinked and rubbed their cockeyed ear, considering. True, Slate really wouldn’t have let them anywhere near their ship, whether Hornfels had informed them or not. Instead, Brookite turned their mind to the near future: to bringing Feldspar home for real this time.
If Porphy was a shock to see, having Gossan standing right underneath Brookite’s ship—new, shiny, and ready for takeoff—was astonishing.
They were in their flight gear wearing a serious, almost dour expression. Upon seeing Brookite’s incredulity their expression briefly shifted to a mischievous grin that looked so endearingly similar to Porphy’s. They already had their helmet on, and its newly polished surface gleamed in the glancing sunlight that made it underneath the ship. Gossan beckoned the duo over, and Brookite didn’t need Gabbro to tug them along this time. Despite being taller than Gossan, Brookite still felt like a small hatchling around their solid, sturdy presence. The older Hearthian—who’d been very close to parental as Brookite grew up—put their hands on their hips and looked up at Brookite as if taking the measure of them.
Brookite swallowed.
“You know where Feldspar is?”
Brookite nodded.
The birdsong faded into the background. The reliably periodic gushing from the geyser within the village muted to a dull roar.
Brookite’s entire worldview and focus narrowed to Gossan and Gossan only. They clenched their jaw and clenched their hands into fists while their ears quivered with energy that was only just barely pent up. If Brookite had felt certainty when trying to plead with Hornfels to let them find Feldspar, it was nothing compared to the pure, unadulterated belief that coursed through their veins now, red-hot and sparking with the need to act.
“Yeah. Let’s go bring ‘em home, Gossan!”