Bo has its back to me. The snips of its tools are the only sound. There are no creatures for miles and the insects have gone elsewhere. They will return when we are inside the building, after they deem it safe. I’ve seen them do this from our windows.

‘Why speechless?’ Bo says, without turning from the vegetation.

‘I’m not sure.’ In reality I sensed it didn’t want to be disturbed. Track previous days and you’ll see there are many occasions when I’ve spoken aloud only to receive no answer. ‘You seem busy with your organics.’

‘You should be celebrating, no? On your daymark? Isn’t that traditional?’

‘Not for us,’ I say, even though I know its response. It scoffs loudly. I try to ignore what I hear.

‘Don’t start that again.’

‘I’m not. It’s pretence, you know that.’

‘You say that as though The Others never did so.’

‘You say that as though we should do everything they did.’

It makes another noise of exasperation, gets to its feet. I’m very unsettled when it does that. Just another pretence, another way of acting like something it’s not. We are not they. Is that hamoi? If so, too late. The Bank already knows. Bo’s taller than I, hair fanned around its face in a false dark halo it grew after seeing historical records of The Others on the Field. It wears cut-off trousers favoured by their kind at the time of the Percipi, shorts it calls them, and thin almost-clothes on its upper half that reveal both arms. Told me it was cool. All because they constructed its carapace with a heavy dose of melanin. I mean, mine is too, but you don’t see me going off wrapping my head in thick fabric, or wearing robes that fall to my toes, or painting a red dot in place of my daymark. I know this behaviour’s encouraged but Jazari forgive me it’s infuriating. We have no need to grow protein from our heads. That’s precisely the reason I’m void of the stuff. What purpose does it serve other than looking foolish? The idea is ridiculous emulation, nothing more, I hope you won’t find this blasphemous but you know how I feel and I can’t help it, we are not and will never be them.

It’s looking at me now, one corner of the lip tugged in an irritating smile. I shift from side to side.

‘Is this because of the dog?’

‘The what? What are you talking about?’

‘The dog. The creature you tried to catch. That’s what it’s called.’

‘How do you know?’

‘It seems to bother you a bit, that’s all. Don’t worry, they’re many. They populate your area. Live up in the hills mostly, quite a large group. The Others called them packs.’

‘Yes, but how do you know what she’s called?’

‘The Field. It’s all there, I keep telling you. You shouldn’t be so single-minded.’