Sporin Capwell's Arc

Chapter 3 of 3

The vessel sat sealed and ready, its green lights steady. Sporin reached for the launch switch. Lumis Stellara jumped onto their hand and pressed one sharp crystal finger against the glass chamber. The little moon creature shook its head hard. Its yellow eyes flared. Sporin stopped. "What's wrong?" Sporin asked. "The pod is loaded. The beetle is loaded. We can go." Lumis pointed up at the gray moon. Then it held both hands over its own crystal body, like a shield, and made a hissing sound. It pointed at the pale spores and drew a finger across its throat. Sporin's stomach dropped. They understood. The moon had no air, no cloud, nothing to soften the sun. Raw light would pour down on the ground. The spores would cook the moment they landed. Sporin sank onto the launch table. The whole plan, the vessel, the guide, and it all died at the finish line. "They'll burn," they whispered. "Before a single thread can root." Lumis tugged Sporin's sleeve and led them to the scout gear. It dug through a jar of moon dirt with both hands. Something moved inside. Lumis lifted it out and set it on Sporin's palm. A tiny creature, no bigger than a seed, walked in slow steps. Its shell shimmered in stacked bands of color, red into gold into blue, hard as cut glass. It had ridden back in the same dead soil as Lumis, alive after crossing the void. Sporin held their breath. This creature had already survived the moon's raw sun. Its shell had shrugged off the burning light. "You lived out there," Sporin said. "The radiation did