Tuck’s Goodnight Beeps

“Beep-beep!” Tuck called toward the habitat. “Beep-beep!” the rocks answered back.

Tuck stopped on the rusty plain. His little wheels rested between two pebble-sized stones, and his antenna pointed toward the small habitat nearby. Its round windows showed Nellie moving inside. She was his best friend, and every evening they traded goodnight signals before she went to bed.

Tuck had a new signal ready: three quick beeps, then one long one. Nellie had taught him the pattern with taps on the habitat wall. It meant, “Goodnight, friend. I’m right here.”

He tried it. “Beep-beep-beep—beeeeeep!”

From somewhere on the plain came, “Beep-beep-beep—beeeeeep!”

Tuck’s little wheels turned with delight. “Nellie heard me!” he said.

Then another reply came from the other direction. “Beep-beep-beep—beeeeeep!”

Tuck looked left. He looked right. The rocks stood in neat, quiet rows, each one wearing a cap of fine red dust. Nellie’s shape had disappeared from the window.

“Are you by the door?” he called.

“Beep!” answered one side of the plain.

“Beep!” answered the other.

Tuck rolled toward the first reply. He passed a flat stone shaped like a pancake, then a tall rock with a notch like a tiny doorway. The habitat seemed no closer. The signals kept hopping around him.

Inside, Nellie pressed her ear to the little speaker. “Tuck?” she called. “I’m at the door!” She sent one bright beep.

Tuck heard three beeps, all at once. He turned in a small circle, raising a little puff of dust. “I’m coming!” he called, though he didn’t know which way to go.

A breeze brushed past his wheels. The evening sky spread over the plain in rosy bands, and the habitat’s lamps began to shine. Tuck wanted Nellie to know he was still trying. He rolled to a low ridge, where he could see the round door, and sent his pattern again, louder this time.

“Beep-beep-beep—BEEEEEEP!”

The rocks replied from every side.

Tuck paused. Maybe a louder signal wasn’t a clearer one. He looked carefully at the stones and listened for what the plain might be telling him.

Tuck stayed still. The replies faded, one after another, until the plain was quiet.

Then he heard a faint sound behind the tall rock with the notch.

“Beep?”

Tuck rolled toward it. The rock’s opening was dark and round, like a little cave. He sent one careful beep.

“Beep!” came back from inside the rock. A moment later, another “Beep!” bounced from the stone behind him.

“Oh,” said Tuck. “You’re making copies!”

He tried a louder beep. The hollow rock answered loudly, and the stone behind him answered too. The sound bounced across the plain like a ball being passed from rock to rock. Tuck had found the reason Nellie’s replies seemed to come from everywhere.

He backed away. The copies grew softer. Then he rolled to the other side of the ridge, where the ground was open and flat. From there he could see the habitat door without any tall rocks in the way.

Tuck didn’t send the whole pattern yet. First he gave one small beep.

“Beep,” he said.

For a moment, there was no answer. Tuck waited. He didn’t hurry or turn in a circle.

Then, from the habitat door, came one small beep.

“Beep!” Nellie answered.

Tuck’s antenna tilted toward the sound. He was sure this time. He sent the special pattern, short and steady: “Beep-beep-beep—beeeeeep!”

From the door came the same pattern. “Beep-beep-beep—beeeeeep!”

“That’s Tuck’s goodnight signal!” Nellie called. The round door slid open, and she stepped out, holding her little listening box against her side.

Tuck rolled across the open ground. Nellie walked out to meet him. Now they could follow one another without wondering where the other was. The last few steps were easy to follow: Tuck’s wheels made a quiet crunch, and Nellie’s boots made soft prints in the dust.

At the habitat door, Nellie crouched beside him. “I heard you all along,” she said. “I just couldn’t tell which reply was yours.”

“I couldn’t tell which way yours was,” Tuck replied. “The rocks were answering for you.”

Nellie smiled. “Next time, we’ll use our little pattern from the open spot.”

Tuck gave one pleased beep. This time, only Nellie answered.

The habitat door stayed open while Nellie and Tuck looked out at the plain together. The notched rock stood far away, quiet now. It seemed less like a confusing place and more like a rock with a funny secret.

“Do you think it knows it was helping?” Nellie asked.

“I think it was trying to answer everyone,” said Tuck. “It just needed a little space.”

Nellie laughed, and Tuck made a happy two-beep sound. They went inside the habitat, where the air was warm and smelled faintly of soup. Nellie set her listening box on a shelf. Tuck parked beside the window, facing the door so he could see the plain.

On the table, Nellie had left a small drawing of the signal pattern: three dots and one dash. She pointed to it. “Three quick beeps means I’m listening. The last one says goodnight.”

Tuck blinked his tiny headlamp. “And a quiet place helps the message stay clear.”

“Exactly.” Nellie put the drawing beside his charging spot. “We can remember that tomorrow.”

They didn’t need to practice again. The signal had found its way, and the two friends were together. Nellie changed into her soft sleep clothes, while Tuck rolled a little closer to the window. Outside, the rocks rested in long shadows, and the plain looked wide and still.

Nellie climbed into her sleeping nook. “Goodnight, Tuck.”

Tuck answered with three quick beeps and one long one, just as they had planned.

“Goodnight, Nellie,” he said.

She lifted one hand. Tuck lifted his small front wheel, which was his way of waving. Nellie climbed into her sleeping nook, and soon the only sound in the habitat was the soft, steady whir of the air fans.

Tuck watched the little lamps along the wall. Their warm light made the room feel cozy, and he could see Nellie’s peaceful smile through the nook’s open curtain. He thought about the echoes, the hollow rock, and the better spot he had found. He was glad he had kept listening instead of only beeping louder.

Outside, the last colors of evening rested on the red stones. Inside, Nellie was safe and close, and Tuck’s battery was full enough for another day of exploring. He sent one final beep, so soft it was almost a whisper, and the habitat lights glowed warmly behind them.