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The whole quantum thing is a trip – and Riebeck has never been a fan of trips. Still, with a rewarding enough destination, a trip can be worth it, especially in good company. This forest of exploding stars is undeniably beautiful, if a little sad, and it's great to once again be seated around a campfire with friends, old and new.
Almost the whole active astronaut gang is here: Riebeck themself, Esker, Chert, Gabbro and even Feldspar, who they'd all feared was dead. (Well, they probably are, now – they're all dead, right?) Only their newest recruit, Chalk, is missing, and Riebeck sure misses them. On the other hand, they have a new space-faring friend; to Riebeck's left, Solanum the Nomai is tentatively eating her – what a concept, to be a her instead of a regular ol' them! – first ever marshmallow, with her strange mask pushed up on top of her antlered head.
Or is it really her first ever marshmallow? Time is weird in this quantum forest. For how long has Solanum known how to speak Herathian – and since when do they all understand the Nomai language? What if they've been here for years, stuck in an eternal 'now,' learning languages and waiting for a time traveler who traveled somewhere – or somewhen – else?
"Are we really sure the hatchling is gonna show up?" Riebeck asks. The words feel strangely familiar leaving their mouth, like they've asked that very question before.
"Riebeck, you old worrywart," Feldspar teases, and it feels both good and bad to be teased by Feldspar again.
But Solanum looks up at Riebeck, and Riebeck isn't a pro at reading Nomai facial expressions, but there's something compassionate about the tilt of her head when she says, "Hypothesis: we're here now because it is already true that a conscious observer will enter the Eye of the Universe. If your friend – who I also like to think of as my friend – weren't to arrive, they wouldn't be retroactively causing us to now exist."
That sounds like some kind of time traveler's logic to Riebeck's ears, but then again, Chalk apparently is some kind of time traveler, so maybe it checks out. Esker seems to think so, at least; they're nodding along in their rocking chair.
"Think of it like a surprise party," they say. "The whole point is that we're here before the guest of honor, and once they arrive we'll all jump out and yell 'Happy hatchday!' Like you guys did for Mica last year, remember?"
Gabbro nods sagely. And after pondering the analogy for a moment, Riebeck actually feels comforted by it – but they also feel sad, when they remember that Mica will never celebrate another hatchday.
It's Chert, always attentive to details, who says, "Wait, how on Hearth do you know about that party?"
Esker looks away, and starts whistling innocently. They're saved from further inquiry by Gabbro going off on a rant, with the voice of someone who also thinks the whole quantum thing is a trip – but loves it!
"I think Solanum is right," they say. "I've been pondering the intricacies of time and space for a lot of time loops, and I don't think cause and effect are really such immutable concepts as some people would like to think."
Chert looks a little affronted at that, but Gabbro doesn't seem to notice, they just keep going.
"My theory is that we are the result of Chalk's memories of us – something like quantum memory imprints. Or echoes. Quantum echoes. You know how non-quantum things can become quantum by entangling with something else that's already quantum? I think we're the result of a kind of inversion of that process. The Eye of the Universe is quantum in-and-of-itself, but it has become – Chalk-entangled! Which gives rise to us, but as time here is quantum time, we're an effect belonging to a cause that is yet to happen… And we could ask if we even really exist here – but I think a more interesting question is if we ever really existed at all."
That is not a question that Riebeck wants to think about at length. Or even listen to Gabbro expound upon at length. It's not that it's not fascinating, because it is. But gosh is it freaky, too. It makes Riebeck feel queasy, and before they know what they're doing, they've shot to their feet.
Now everybody is looking at them. Very oops.
"I'm… going to go look for… a good hiding place. For the surprise party," they improvise, mentally facepalming. That was just a metaphor, Rie!
"Excellent idea!" Feldspar exclaims, getting up themself. Then they sling an arm around Riebeck's shoulders, so they can lead them away between the trees.
As soon as they're out of earshot, Feldspar squeezes Riebeck's arm and says, "Good going, buddy, getting us out of there before Gabbro really spins out. I think I need some time alone – all that time on my lonesome in Dark Bramble means I'm not quite fit for polite society. Will you be alright on your own for a bit?"
Riebeck nods, and watches Feldspar pull out their harmonica and start playing as they stroll away between the trees and the exploding stars. Or are those more like galaxies? Riebeck studies one of them up close, all silvery sparkles like the fireworks that Mayor Rutile banned back home. They stick out a finger to touch one of the tiny sparks – and quickly pull it back to stick it in their mouth instead.
On their way back to the campsite Riebeck runs into Chert, who is measuring one of the supernovas – supranovas? – with a ruler, mumbling to themself. They're so preoccupied with their measurements that they don't notice Riebeck until Riebeck clears their throat.
"Goodness me!" Chert blurts, jumping. "Oh, hi. I'm just gathering some data. You can never have enough data!"
"Great thinking," replies Riebeck, who wishes they had dared to gather more data in their life. "Watch your fingers, though. Those things sting."
Chert doesn't seem to hear them. They've already run off to measure the next little starburst, seemingly comparing its circumference to the length of a nearby twig.
Instead of going to sit back down by the fire, Riebeck stops some steps away to watch, hiding behind a tree. Gabbro, Esker and Solanum are the only ones left, and it seems like Gabbro's explication on the wonders of quantum-ness is still in full swing. Great.
"It's a bit like meditation…" Riebeck hears them say.
Then Solanum catches them watching, and they have to duck back behind the trunk again. But it's too late. Now Solanum is getting up, making some excuse to Esker and Gabbro, and walking straight towards them.
"Hello there, Riebeck the Hearthian," she says when she reaches them. Her mask is back down over her face. "Did you manage to find a good hiding place?"
"Oh, um… n-no," Riebeck stammers out.
"We all liked that idea, of us all hiding for your friend to come find us. It feels suitable, somehow," Solanum says next. "Gabbro told us that they will set up something they call a 'quantum treasure hunt.'"
"Heh, yes, that sounds like Gabbro, alright. Feldspar will probably do something super elaborate too – and I'll eat my helmet if they don't manage to include one of their beloved 'beasties,' somehow!" Riebeck's just happy that it's the hatchling, and not themself, who will have to experience Feldspar's idea of fun.
"That seems in line with my observations of them, as well," Solanum chuckles. "But I wanted to ask you this: as you have not yet found your perfect hiding spot, would you permit me to suggest a place?"
"Wow, yes, absolutely!"
"Then come with me."
Riebeck follows Solanum through the trees, too star struck to know what to say to her. Thankfully, she picks the conversation back up.
"Have I understood correctly, that you are an archeologist who specializes in Nomai artifacts?" she asks.
"Yes… but I was never a very good one, I'm afraid. Because – well, because I'm so afraid all the time. But I tried! And as soon as Chalk told me that there was a real live Nomai on the Quantum Moon, I was planning to go visit you! I just… never got the time. But we're here now!"
"We're here now," Solanum agrees. "And on behalf of my clan, I am flattered that you dedicated your life to studying what remained of our civilization. I am also very curious to hear how we look to an outside observer. But that will have to wait, because here we are now."
Between the trees, Riebeck catches a glimpse of a telltale sandstone color. Solanum points her writing staff towards the Nomai building, which has suddenly and incongruously materialized in a clearing before them.
"This is my grandparents' old house from The Hanging City. Or a quantum echo of it, more exactly. Brittle Hollow was the planet you went to explore, am I correct?"
Riebeck is too choked up to speak. They can only nod.
"Then, don't you agree with me that it would be fitting for you to hide in here?" Solanum asks, sounding very proud of her own idea.
"I – yes, I would love to, b-but… Shouldn't it be you, hiding here? If it belonged to people who were important to you?"
"I have already come up with a hiding place for myself," Solanum replies. "I brought my ship here. Or perhaps it brought itself? It has been quantum entangled for a very long time, I believe."
Inside the Nomai dwelling, Solanum invites Riebeck to sit down while she goes rummaging through a cabinet.
"That's strange…" she says as she turns back towards the room, holding a bottle of – is that sap wine!? "This isn't a Nomai beverage."
"Oh, no, that's one of ours," Riebeck replies. "I wonder how it ended up here. It's sap wine – alcohol made from tree sap."
"Is that what this label says?" Solanum asks. "'Sap wine'? I can speak your language, but it seems I cannot read it. How curious."
She holds the bottle up so Riebeck can see the label, and wow, isn't that just great?
"No, that, um. It says 'House fire'. That's how a lot of the bottles of sap wine are labeled, actually. I never asked why, I didn't think I'd like the answer. But yeah, our houses had a tendency to burn down. A lot. Maybe we should have built houses like this, made of stone, instead of wood. That seems like a very sensible way to avoid house fires."
Solanum has taken her mask off again – it's hanging on the wall on a sort of hook that seems made for the purpose – so Riebeck can see that she's smiling at their ramblings.
"Is it palatable, this House Fire Sap Wine?" she cuts them off to ask.
'Palatable' isn't exactly the word Riebeck would use, but, "You can try it, if you like. I don't think it can hurt you here…"
And so, the Hearthian and the Nomai end up sharing a bottle of sap wine in a Nomai home, explaining different aspects of their respective cultures to each other. As they talk, Riebeck racks their brain for a way to repay Solanum's offer of this splendid hiding place, and when they come upon the subject of music, Riebeck is struck by inspiration.
"Hey, why don't I teach you to play one of the songs that our orchestra used to play?" they suggest.
Solanum shines like a sun at being asked, and immediately gets her writing stick – now in its role as music instrument – ready. So Riebeck picks up their banjo, which conveniently happens to be leaning against the wall right by their chair. Even quantum nonsense has its moments. Or, maybe it doesn't, because time doesn't... anyway, it has its perks!
"Okay, so here's the bass line," Riebeck begins, plucking it out.
Solanum is a quick study – or is she? for how long have they been practicing, now? – and soon – ? – they're playing together in harmony. It's an incredible moment; Riebeck only wishes that Gneiss could be here to hear an actual alien playing one of their songs.
"This will sound so good when it's all of us playing it, later," Riebeck sighs happily. "Oh, and if you want, you can even improvise a little – I'm sure everyone will be able to pick up on it and play along."
They keep jamming and talking until Solanum suddenly perks up.
"I have to leave now," she says. "Our friend is arriving."
The hatchling is here?
"How can you tell?" Riebeck asks, but then they feel it themself; there's a change in the air, like this weird place has suddenly become more… real. More tangible, somehow.
Solanum is getting up, and putting her mask back on. Then she bows towards Riebeck, who scrambles to get to their feet and return the bow.
"I hope we get to talk more at a later time, my friend," she says. "And as time doesn't really exist here, I am sure we will. Till then, Riebeck the Hearthian!"
"Till then, Solanum the Nomai!"
With Solanum gone, Riebeck picks their banjo back up and starts playing again, to keep themself company until the hatchling comes to find them. They are no longer afraid, just looking forward to giving Chalk a long, warm, well-deserved hug.