Even though this is the last thing I wanted to do, it’s exactly what I needed. Between the climbing software and Mack’s reminders, I manage each of the new obstacles without incident. I climb higher, over progressively larger nodules, all spherical in their nighttime state. They would be easier to climb in the day—assuming the spokes that emerge from them are solid—but I need the darkness to hide me. When I reach the highest point of the climb and the colony first comes into view, it’s no longer about which handhold or foothold comes next. I feel exposed for the first time and the risk of discovery sharpens into a point pressing on my chest rather than being a nebulous thought at the back of my mind. “How did you do this every year and not get caught?” I whisper to Mack. “By being careful.” “I can’t believe it works.” “Well, it won’t if you don’t get a move on.”
