Chapter 2 Samantha, the Beauty
I watch my brother disappear into that giant spaceship. It’s the biggest one I’ve ever seen!
My heart and my head are arguing about him leaving.
My head says he’s going to be way happier with those people. The old man—Haruki, I think—seemed patient and kind. I could tell he was annoyed by our dad, but he didn’t raise his voice. He just stayed calm and agreed to all those weird demands without making a fuss.
As for Ayden… I don’t know. He made me feel kind of strange.
He looked at me in this super intense way, almost like he could see right through me.
It was kind of scary. He’s old! Well, older than Logan anyway—from what I overheard.
And he’s huge! But he’s going to be Logan’s partner, and that’s what matters.
With them, Logan will get to discover new worlds and learn so many cool things.
And most of all, he’ll be far away from our dad, who’s always yelling at him.
I know how much that gets to him. The air at home is so heavy sometimes.
.. My head knows he’ll be better off far from here.
But my heart? My heart is already breaking.
Logan’s not just my big brother. He’s my best friend.
My rock. He’s always been there for me. Always.
When I was scared or sad—like after one of Dad’s angry outbursts—Logan knew exactly how to comfort me.
He always told me better days were coming.
Now that he’s gone, I feel kind of lost. I’ll have to learn how to manage on my own.
I just hope he thinks of me sometimes...
and that he comes back to visit soon. Until then, I’ll try to be as strong as he is.
I turn toward Mom, who hasn’t moved in a while. She’s still staring up at the sky, even though the ship is long gone. I gently take her hand and give it a soft squeeze. She turns to me, her eyes full of tears.
“It’s getting late,” she says. “Let’s go home. Tomorrow, we’re heading to the Gekkaris.”
Awesome! I love the Gekkaris. Mom and I go there pretty often, to pick plants we bring back to the shop.
Lina scares me a little—she’s all wrinkly and never talks.
But her daughter Mila tries to use a few words to go along with her gestures.
She’s not super clear, but it helps, along with the sign language she uses with Mom.
Mila and Mom are friends… I think. Mom says the Gekkaris communicate through changes in their skin color. But since humans can’t do that, she and Mila learned to “talk with their hands.” I’m learning the signs too, but it’s hard!
I’m excited to leave tomorrow morning—and even more relieved not to be stuck at home. Now that Logan’s gone, Dad’s probably going to yell even more. Mom figured that too, which is why she said we’d leave early.
Outside, Mom is strapping our bags onto our aeropod, the flying sphere pod.
I step onto the edge and climb astride the seat harness, straddling it like I’ve done a dozen times before.
She joins me and sits behind. With a light press of the ignition button, she closes the hover canopy around us and lifts off.
The sphere rises above the rooftops and heads toward the vast Gekkaris forest.
My heart races with excitement, like it always does when we fly. I love this thing! It goes so fast—especially when I look down through the transparent floor panel and watch the ground blur beneath us. The air inside the sphere is fresh and cool, such a contrast to the heat outside.
“That went pretty well,” Mom says flatly.
“Yeah—he barely noticed we were there.”
“You know your father. He stays sober during the hottest hours of the day. After that, it’s just a haze of booze until nightfall.”
I know. That’s why we only go to the colony late in the afternoon—so we arrive just after dark.
By then, he’s usually passed out, and that suits us just fine.
We drop off the salves and ointments we’ve made at our workshop in the Gekkaris village, then pick up the empty containers and the supplies we’ll need for the next few days before heading back to what’s now our permanent base for over four years.
We approach the edge of the forest—the spot where Mom usually lets me take the controls. And there it is! She lifts her hands off the navigation grip and gives me the go-ahead.
“Take it easy,” she warns.
I wrap my fingers gently around the steering ring, heart pounding a little. I can’t help but test the response. I sway left—then right—grinning to myself.
“Sam, I swear, if you keep that up, I’m taking over!”
I slow down, not too worried about her threat. A few moons after my fifteenth birthday, she decided I was finally old enough to fly us between the treehouse village and Gekkar Creek, the colony. That made me so happy I couldn’t stop smiling for a whole day.
Below us, the forest rolls out in endless waves of mauve and purple.
The morning light sparkles off the treetops, and I can see the leaves ripple in the breeze.
From up here, it looks like a moving ocean of color.
The branches sway gently as we pass, and birds shoot out from the canopy, startled into flight, their cries mixing with the wind.
Too soon, the village comes into view. I focus, slowing down the sphere-pod carefully and guiding it toward the clearing where we usually park it. The ground rushes up, and I ease us down, feathering the controls until we land with the softest bump.
Once we’re on solid ground, we climb out. Mom gives me a proud wink and ruffles my hair.
“Nice job, Sam,” she laughs.
I beam, proud of myself, and we head toward the village.
A few minutes later, I spot Mila and Lina approaching.
Lina’s the older one—her skin is darker, and it’s all wrinkled.
Mila’s younger, with smooth, golden-yellow skin.
But that’s not enough to tell them apart, because Gekkaris “talk” mostly through their skin.
Waves or patches of color move across their bodies like words.
We humans can’t really understand it, but we’ve picked up the general feel of some colors over time.
“Hello!” Mom says, placing her right hand over her heart, then extending it forward, palm open—a sign of greeting.
“He’lo!” they echo, copying Mom’s gesture as orange patterns ripple across their skin.
“I hope you’re both doing well!”
I watch her sign the phrase with practiced movements: two hands forming circles in front of her chest, rising and opening outward, then pointing to both Gekkaris, one hand returning to her chest, circling again, and ending in a thumbs-up.
In exchange for the sign language lessons Mom gives to help the Gekkaris communicate with the settlers, Mila teaches us about forest plants.
Mom discovered that many of the plants in the Gekkaris woods have rare healing properties.
With Lina and Mila’s help, we make potions, salves, and teas to sell at the shop.
Mom calls herself an herBoorilte, and I plan to become one too.
“Wi’ hanny ‘ hav you bag!’’
Which I understand as: “We’re happy to have you back!” Over time, I’ve gotten used to the way Mila talks. It flows better than you’d think once you catch the rhythm.
They’re both shorter than Mom—not by much, but definitely smaller than most adult humans. Actually, most of the Gekkaris here are pretty small. They almost look like teenagers, but without hair, which used to make me giggle a lot at the beginning.
Their skin is covered in tiny flexible scales, but you only notice them if you look up close. The girls are a bit slimmer than the boys. They have big, dark eyes and five fingers like we do, but theirs end in soft, flexible pads that help them climb anything.
I really wish I could do that, but I have to stick with the rope ladder to get up to our room. They also have long, thin tails that help them balance when they move, climb, or jump. Mom says it works kind of like a counterweight to keep them steady.
We follow the two women into the village.
It’s so quiet here—like the forest itself is holding its breath.
The Gekkaris don’t speak with words, and even though they can hear a bit, we’re expected to follow their customs. That means only using words when we really need to.
Mostly, we let the sounds of nature do the talking.
“No pointless chatter,” as Mom likes to remind me.
It annoyed me a lot at first. But I got used to it. Now I use my hands and my body to show thanks, or when I’m tired and want to rest, or when I need something.
This village is nothing like the one I grew up in. Back home, our buildings are close together on the dry plains of Gekkaria’s equator.
But here? The trees are the houses. They’re massive—each with a single thick trunk, about ten feet across, smooth to the touch with no rough bark.
At a certain height, the pinkish trunk stops suddenly, and huge fronds fan out in every direction, glowing with purples and deep violets.
It looks like a living crown in the sky.
These forest giants are everywhere, and the Gekkaris weave branches together at the top to form domes they call tree-homes—or “cases,” as they say. Inside, it’s simple: just a bed of leaves for sleeping. They don’t wear clothes, so there’s no need for closets or storage.
They made a tree-home just for Mom and me when we visit. We reach it using a rope ladder like the one hanging from every Gekkaris home. Inside, it’s a little cozier than theirs. We have thicker bedding, and Mom brought some storage boxes over time to keep a few things here permanently.
“Aw-ai, da flowahs’ weady fo pickin!” Mila exclaims, her hands moving in big gestures as yellow and orange patterns spread across her body.
That big toothless grin means she’s excited.
“Looks like the flowers are ready for picking, right?” Mom asks to confirm.
“Ba!” Mila confirms.