Chapter 7
Jack awoke with the sunrise. He, after all, wasn't accustomed to such bright light, unlike Vilet, who slept soundly beside him. Memories of last night echoed pleasantly in his mind, and he smiled.
She had her arms wrapped tightly around him; her body pressed against him at every possible corner. She claimed to not feel the cold, but her actions spoke a little differently. Either that, or it was mere affection that garnered such a response.
Jack shifted, careful not to wake her. His back still ached from the scrapes last night and sleeping on the rocky ground hadn't helped much. The Storm had quieted down during the night, leaving them alone on the stony plains.
Gingerly, he lifted Vilet's sleeping figure into his arms. She mumbled something and awoke somewhat, her eyes slitting open. "Jck?"
"Morning." He kissed her forehead. "I'm carrying you home. Can you hold on?"
She didn't wake up much more, but she was conscious enough to understand. Her arms wrapped loosely around his neck as he began walking, in no particular hurry.
She relaxed and rested her head against his chest as he walked, his steps falling into a regular rhythm. Her body was probably used to the long nights, but he was still accustomed to eight hours of sleep, not twelve. She'd need more time to wake up, especially considering how long they had gone on last night.
Still, Jack felt a small pang as he considered on their conversation. She was
definitely
hiding something from him - she'd even confessed as much. He wished he could ask her about the kntr - was it real? Did she know anything about it? But he knew he wouldn't get a response... Not to mention, the Bad Idea™ had suggested that he trust her in the meantime.
Obviously, it was a terrible idea, but he didn't feel much like questioning it now. If anything, his insistence to trust her without good reason had seemed to open her up to him, even if she didn't reveal any of her secrets. Baby steps, as Klingler would have said. Baby steps.
He shook away thoughts of the man as they drew near to the house. To his relief and surprise, the door was already opened for the day. Someone must have come out to prepare for breakfast.
He ducked through the doorway and stepped into the home, quickly making his way up the ramp. He paused at Vilet's bedroom, hesitating momentarily before moving on.
He carried her up the other ramp to the crn, the highest room in the house -
his
room. He slid into the bowl, and gently laid Vilet down in it. She was still dozing, so he kissed her on the forehead. "Breakfast will be soon."
She murmured a response as he departed, climbing back out of the bdl. He was wide awake now, and sweaty. He stretched, his stiff muscles and the new scabs on his back groaning in pain. He'd felt worse, honestly. The scrapes didn't feel half as bad as they did the day before.
He sat down near the main eating table and yawned, suddenly grateful that the Vagonals didn't simply eat sitting on the floor. Instead, they had makeshift stools and benches made out of solid pieces of wood - more like the logs and stumps you'd see around a campfire than actual chairs. Still, they were tall enough to be comfortable, and easy to use.
After sitting comfortably for a few minutes, it occurred to Jack that everyone might be sleeping in. After that Storm the day before, most of them had to be terribly exhausted.
He frowned. And yet, after bearing the majority of the brunt of the storm and staying up half the night, he was... fine? And last night, despite there being no moon or stars (due to the clouds) he could see outside. Something was off. He'd have to ask Lily about it later.
Sighing, he rose and exited the house again, wincing as the already bright light attacked his eyes. It was growing steadily warmer, and he quickly moved to the other side of the house, where the barn was attached to the main building.
Sara and Lily were already up, though upon some reflection, Jack realized this shouldn't have been a surprise. Of course, they would have the same sleeping habits as him. It was Howard sleeping in that was abnormal for humans.
To his surprise, however, Lizbeth was already awake, and seemed to be milking the qfn. After a moment's hesitation, he walked over to stand beside her.
She glanced over to him, then did a double take. "Jack! You're awake."
He smiled sheepishly. "I guess so. So... What are you doing?" Immediately after he asked the question, he realized the stupidity of it.
She didn't seem to mind. "Getting our morning milk. Would you like to try?"
Jack shrugged. "Sure." He'd milked a goat when he was fourteen, at a county fair. How different could it be?
Turned out, not that different. She moved aside and gave him the milking seat while the qfn shifted nervously, sensing a new individual. Or perhaps she recognized him, and the memories of their less-than-ideal journey back to the surface caused her some anxiety.
He started milking, and Lizbeth stopped him almost immediately. "You're going too hard," she explained. "You're hurting her."
He slowed down and tried to squeeze more gently. Still, the qfn shifted about, one foot drawing dangerously near to the jar where the milk was held.
After a few more helpful tips and tricks from Lizbeth, he had improved somewhat, though his hands were growing tired. A goat would be empty by now.
"How much milk does this thing have?"
Lizbeth shrugged. "Usually about a jar or two, morning and evening."
Jack stared down at the nearly filled jar, and another filled one nearby. He'd estimate they held about a half-gallon each. "That's... a lot, for such a small creature." He eyed the she. ep-like entity. "How is that possible? Or even beneficial?"
"There are certain roots that grow on the surface which stimulate milk production," Lizbeth explained. "The trick is to find large enough quantities to regularly feed the qfn. Considering we only have the one, we're managing quite nicely."
Jack nodded and kept squeezing.
"Jack, that's too hard!"
Suddenly, the qfn decided she had had enough - the noise, the new smell, and the roughness of Jack's milking put her over the edge. With a mewl, she thrashed about... kicking the jar of milk directly onto Jack, spilling it all over his clothes and face.
Lizbeth released the qfn from its stocks-like imprisonment, and it ran off into a far corner of the barn.
When Lizbeth turned back to Jack, she hummed in amusement. "I'm... sorry."
Jack looked down at himself, now splattered with admittedly much stickier milk than they had on Earth. "No, it's my fault. Sorry for spilling the milk."
She waved her hand in dismissal. "We have more than enough." She glanced at the sun through the doorway. "But you'd probably better hurry and wash up, or you might miss breakfast."
Jack nodded and quickly dismissed himself. He nearly bumped into Lily on his way out, and, after a quick appraising look, was met with laughter. He rolled his eyes and grinned as she laughed after him. Even Sara offered a small smile at his sorry state of affairs.
