Chapter Text
We don’t know much about the Quantum Moon, seeing as no one’s ever been able to land on it, but hopefully studying the signal in the grove will reveal more about it.
Maybe they should study the entire grove, rather than just the signal. Chert was never hands on, not like Feldspar was, as they preferred to just shoot their scout at things and investigate based on what their photos returned. Which, from what Chert had told Gabbro, was about what they expected from the grove. Trees, a water, rocks, and one weird rock, just like the one that was in that crevice that the museum had been built next to.
Whatever the case, Chert had identified the signal, then promptly left because, as they put it, “As much as I would enjoy picking apart signals and learning all about the Quantum Moon, I have star charts that Hornfels wants made.” Apparently, Hornfels had a suspicion that the universe was expanding, enough that it’d made their head spin and them need to call Chert in for a second opinion.
Gabbro tapped the podium idly, staring at the craterside and the trees that poked above it. It’d been a lengthy walk—their ship wasn’t ready to be flown yet, and they didn’t trust themself all that much with a jetpack, not after last time—that made them want nothing more than to set up their hammock and play their flute for a few hours. Though, that required them to find a set of trees that were close enough, and they did eventually need to eat, hence why they dragged behind them a good few logs in a sled.
Chert’s little overlook was a nice place to sit for awhile, at least until the sun passed over and shined in their eyes, as they gathered the energy to walk downhill into the larger crater below. Eventually, Gabbro lugged their bags over their shoulder, stretching a little bit before they made their way down the boardwalk. They’d left their sled in the clearing by the waterfall, which they snagged the rope and looped it around their other shoulder on the way past, as they started down the hill.
It was steep, with Gabbro resigning themself to the fact that they’d be forced to make two trips, unless they wanted to spend a good while picking up logs. And here they’d thought they’d only have to make one, how unlucky. It took them a moment, deciding whether they wanted to make the log-trip first or the everything-else-trip first, before they swung the far heavier things they were dragging and made their choice.
Gabbro could build a campfire later, it wasn’t like anybody else was on their way to the crater. They had time to set up their hammock, time to take a short nap, and plenty of time to observe the crater. It was what they’d brought two recorders for, after all, and why they’d packed so much paper into one small bag, and it wasn’t like the crater was going to go anywhere…right? It hadn’t moved since they were a hatchling, so it couldn’t move, surely.
Gabbro found a good few trees quickly, setting down their bags and pulling their hammock out. They took a few moments to fully unravel it, but when they looked up, they were in a different location. No, wait , the trees were in a different location, not them. The water stayed where it was, the rocks changed but not the water, and the entrance to the quieter end of the crater stayed behind Gabbro. That was weird . Wasn’t it only supposed to be the rock?
They shook their head, rubbing their eyes to see if maybe they were simply imagining it, but when they refocused on where the trees had been they were gone. Gabbro’s eyes narrowed, as they sat their hammock with their other bags, seating themself on the dirt and fishing for their recorders and some paper. Then, after a moment, they hunted for a writing utensil, which had rolled to the bottom of the bag and required their full attention to be found.
Click. “This grove is weird.” Great way to start it; Scoria probably would’ve patted them on the back. “Uh.” Click. It’d be better to restart, at that point. Click. “This is Gabbro.” Much better. “I’ve come to study the Quantum Grove, prompted by the, uh…Strange frequency. That’s what I’ll call it.” The trees were back by where they were sitting, though the rock was still across the crater. What would happen if they were in a location where the rock should appear? Would the rock appear with them there, and try to take their place? What a grisly sight to imagine!
Gabbro scribbled a rough version of the crater from the perspective of the entrance, which they weren’t too far away from. On another piece of paper, they labeled a shape they’d call ‘Shard’ for the time being. They’d change the name once they were able to gather more about how the rock behaved, though ‘Tachylyte’ was appealing to them—actually, they scratched ‘Shard’ and labeled it ‘Tach.’ They drew outlines of wherever they’d seen it appear, which was one, currently, as it hadn’t moved, since Gabbro had been keeping a set of eyes on it.
“There’s a shard—I’m calling it Tach, sorry Hornfels—that might be quantum, that looks…really strange. Like nothing around it.” Gabbro squinted, trying to fully grasp how to describe it—the rock was gone, they’d blinked. It appeared closer to them, though still far away, with that nice patch of trees appearing with it. “Tach moves when you aren’t looking at it, like Pumice—sorry, the museum shard—but it’s a lot bigger and it…it takes the trees with it, I think?”
They sketched out another two locations for Tach to appear. That was three. Pumice only had three, and they looked to be part of the same original formation—were they one rock, separated by miles of grass and wood, to never be reuinited, or were they two rocks, separate from each other, with an identity and story each? Chert would’ve listened to their thoughts run their merry course, then hit them on the head, since they were sitting, and said, “They’re rocks, not people, Gabbro.”
“It’s…somewhat of a dark purple? With soft swirls of assorted colors, from what I can see, like browned yellows and light blues. Very identifiable, Tach is a little hard to miss.” Gabbro mimed the movement that followed while they played their flute with their empty hand, resting on their knee as they thought. What could cause Tach to move, but only when they weren’t looking? Hornfels thought it to be an optical illusion—as they’d very clearly written in the museum, which Gabbro had written over with their own explaination as a hatchling—but how?
Click. Gabbro paused the recording device, thinking. Maybe an answer would come to them when they weren’t so tired, as they fought back the urge to yawn—they failed, their eyes falling shut as they did so—“Ack!” Gabbro felt a sharp pain in their left arm, like they’d just fallen onto a rock and it’d cut into their skin, and they jerked their head to see what had happened.
The rock was right there.
“Hey! That’s mean, we don’t hurt people. You’re lucky it’s just my arm, Tach.” They scolded, eyes narrowing up at the rock. Dark purple blood gathered near where it’d gotten them—right between the scales, a ways below their elbow, ouch—and they pulled their arm back for further investigation. They didn’t hear the soft snap that the rock made as they did that, and if they noticed that Tach was missing a tiny fragment, or that there was something imbedded into their skin, then they ignored it as they turned to their bags to get some bandages.
Stopping the bleeding was the first thing on Gabbro’s list, as had been taught and trained into them by Rutile and Gossan over the course of their hatchlinghood. Put some iodine on it, wrap the bandages tight—that hurt quite the bit, and it was awkward with only one hand and their teeth—and hope it didn’t get infected in the long term. It almost felt like there was something in their arm, but they weren’t too concerned about it. It’d be fine. Surely.
Gabbro scribbled another location for Tach to appear, which happened to be right where they were sitting. Click. “I thought Hornfels said that was impossible? They are under the impression that a quantum object could appear near, but not inside of, another object. Now, I’m not sure if Tach appeared inside of me, or if I happened to be close enough to cut myself at the smallest movement, but I’ve got a bandage wrapped around my arm from where I sliced myself open. And Tach has moved again, thanks buddy.” They looked up, sighing. “I’m gonna take a nap. I can ponder the intricacies of macroscopic quantum phenomena later, I’m tired.” Click.
Gabbro yawned, stretching their arms starward, before they reached for their hammock. The trees were back to where they were, thankfully, so all it took was them keeping an eye or three on the trees while they set up their hammock. Would the trees move them and their hammock, just their hammock, just them, or would they drop the hammock to the ground and them with it? Gabbro pondered that for a few moments, half considering finding trees that didn’t move, but that would require more energy than they had. No point in just pondering when they had a way to test these questions—just like Slate always argued, “You need to screw around and find out to make any progress.”
Gabbro climbed into their hammock, plucking their flute from their bags with their uninjured arm, and they began to play a soft, calming melody, lulling themself into a state of peaceful rest.