Terrarium by Scott Russell Sanders

listen—”
    â€œNo no no!”
    When at last he looked up, she was gone, the door standing open. On the threshold rested a small gray parallelogram of stone. Stooping warily over it, he could see the faint imprint of a leaf in the surface—or perhaps it was a fern; it had been many years since he had looked at pictures of plants. With a tablemat he scooped up the stone, held it near his face. There was a faint smell of damp. The tiny veins of the leaf formed a riotous maze of intersecting lines that reminded him of the map’s labyrinth of rivers. Had it been decontaminated? Where had she found it, in what mire out there? For a long time he hesitated, fingers poised a few centimeters above the stone. And then at last he touched the mazy indentation, gingerly, so as not to injure himself. The delicate lines of the fossil proved hard, harder than his cautious fingers.
    The stone felt cold in his palm, slick with perspiration, as he shifted from foot to callused foot before her door. That was her doing, the calluses, the twitching in his legs, the lust for escape. Passengers streamed by on the pedbelts, slashing him with their glances as he debated what to do. But he ignored them, and that also was her doing. Should he report her, get her wilder-license revoked, then try coaxing her into sanity again? Could he betray her that way? Or should he let her make those journeys outside, each one longer, until, one day, she failed to return? Could he actually go out there with her?
    His heart raced faster than it ever had from their walking or stair-climbing.
    At last he rang, and the door clicked open. For the first time he entered her lair, smelling her, but unable to see anything in the dim light. He groped his way forward. “Teeg?”
    â€œIn here.”
    Her voice came from a second room, visible only as a vertical streak of blue light where the door stood ajar. With halting steps, hands raised to fend off obstacles, Phoenix picked his way through the darkness toward the blue slither of light. As he approached, the door eased open, forcing him to shield his eyes from the brightness. Swimming in the wash of blue was Teeg’s silhouette, not naked, surely, but with arms and legs distinctly outlined. Was she in her working gear, a shimmersuit?
    â€œI found this,” he said, reaching the fossil toward her in his open palm.
    â€œThat was for you to keep,” she snapped. “A gift for parting.”
    â€œI didn’t come to return it. I came to have you read it for me—tell me what it means—tell me—I don’t know.” He halted in confusion. The hard edge of her voice, the blue glare, the inner turmoil made his eyes water. “You’ve got to be patient with me.”
    â€œSo you’ll have time enough to file that infection alert?”
    â€œI didn’t mean for you to see that.”
    â€œNo, I’ll bet you didn’t.”
    â€œI won’t file it. I can’t.”
    She studied him. “Why did you get it in the first place?”
    â€œI just wanted to keep you,” he stammered.
    â€œWhat do you mean, keep me?”
    â€œKeep you safe, keep you inside.”
    â€œWell I won’t be kept inside, you hear me? Not by you or the health board or anybody .”
    His eyes still watered, but he could make out her swift movements as she paced about the room gathering vials and cassettes and food capsules into a massive carrycase. It was a shimmersuit she wore, silvered to reflect sunlight, clinging to her like a second skin to allow for work on the outside. The disclosure of her body embarrassed him. Even in stage ten of the mating ritual he had never seen a woman so exposed.
    â€œWhere are you going?” he demanded.
    â€œI’m not waiting here to be arrested.”
    â€œYou’re not going back outside?”
    â€œEventually. A few of us together, back to the wilds, home.” She slammed the carrycase on the floor.