Grown Men

left on top gleamed in the tropical suns. All morning he rubbed his scalp in unsecret pleasure, grinning at Runt and tapping his skull when their eyes met.
    It does feel better.
    Midmorning, a flock of six plasma barnstormers cut across the western sky: wide oyster-grey triangles moving so fast they tore the air.
    Plankton bombing? Yeah .
    After wiring the new pigsty, the two cofarmers were returning a spool of data-cable to the shed fifty meters up the slope from the beach.
    The scream of the engines made them both turn, but Ox froze and blanched.
    There!
    The six aircraft carved foamy stripes in the ocean wrinkling 200 meters beneath them.
    “It’s okay. Excellent even. We love plankton.” Runt gave him a thumbs up and a nod. He raised his voice a little above the intrusive whine. “The good guys.”
    Ox didn’t even finish putting away the materials. Totally unlike him . The giant jogged to the shore, turning and raking the full horizon with guard-dog eyes.
    For one second, Runt remembered the murder box welded into the wall of the hive. And just as immediately, he stopped himself. Those weapons had nothing to do with their life here.
    Ox pivoted to watch the aircraft streak past, tracking long pale claw marks across the horizon.
    In the barnstormers’s wake, Runt could see the jelly spheres fall from the sky like enormous quivering emeralds. The nine-meter blobs plummeted to the ocean floor before bursting, scattering designer phytoplankton and zooplankton across the seabed.
    Runt nodded to reassure him. “When I was here solo, I used to look forward to the bombers because it meant other people lived here too. Stupid. But I grew up in crowds, and this place got—”
    Ox squinted at Runt with solemn eyes. He bunched his mouth a second, like he was about to say the word.
    Lonely .
    The barnstormers spiraled to the south and the plankton bombing continued, but Ox stopped being nervous standing beside him on the rise looking down over the wave. Again, they stopped working to watch the gooey jewels plunge into the sea, seeding it with biodesigned critters ready to work as hard as they were.
    Ox powered through their tasks, joking with Runt and stripping to the waist as the suns climbed into the sky. Never speaking, he made it unnecessary for Runt to speak either. He was just there exactly whenever needed all damn day, with a hand, a hammer, a fresh canteen, helping without being asked. The morning melted past in easy rhythm, the toil a shared pleasure. Ox stopped flinching as the plasma crew crisscrossed the horizon.
    Later that afternoon, stringing nets for the kudzu to climb, they realized they needed a ladder. Just as Runt turned to trudge back downhill to the shed to fetch it, Ox shook his head, braced his legs, and beckoned.
    Without thinking, Runt took that hard hand and climbed his towering cofarmer like a tree, his calloused soles slipping a little on the wet muscle.
    Ox laughed silently and braced Runt’s ankles—his enormous grip completely encircling them.
    As soon as Runt stood firmly balanced atop his partner, the subsonic punch of six plasma engines made them both look up the slope—
    Thwuuushhh-Thwuushhh-Thwush-Thwushh-Thwuuuushhh—
    And another giant necklace of gleaming beads plunged into their ocean, burying treasure, seeding it with fresh life. The six plankton bombers had cut around behind the volcanic rise behind them, their contrails striping the candy-bright sky.
    Under him, Ox gasped at the sight, his face tipped up in simple delight.
    For no good reason, Runt waved in thanks, knowing they couldn’t see, but certain that Ox would have done the same if he could have spared a hand to do it.
    Finally the barnstormers made an arcing slice toward the horizon, braiding their wakes in the cloudless air. Somewhere in the deeps, a trillion tiny lives stirred the dark water.
    Thank you.
    Ox turned back to the racks and stepped close.
    Balanced nearly four meters in the air, Runt’s feet rode warm shoulders steady as stone, and he was able to hook the nets easily. He didn’t even feel small up there; he felt like they were a seamless team, a perfect match for anything thrown at them.
    Ox took three steps back to check the hang along the length of the kudzu-lentils.
    Runt glanced down and discovered that Ox had glanced up at the same instant. One nod, as always, only they did it in happy tandem.
    Snick . It was almost a real sound. The world focused to a sudden, still point. What was