Chapter 8
Why was Silver in my room? I splashed water on my face and rubbed a towel over my head, scrubbing out the rest of the sand.
Beneath my excitement to harvest sala leaves, I couldn’t help question why Silver was here in the first place and what my age had to do with anything?
Take a good look. I scratched the hair on my chest. I wasn’t some naive youngling.
I yawned as I shuffled into a fresh uniform, half-asleep, not caring if I offended Silver by stripping down in front of him. My still-healing body, though a million annums better, needed rest.
Silver’s nostrils flared and his eyes widened as I walked from the wash-up area, zipping the coveralls over my torso slower than necessary.
That’s right, all grown up over here.
Though I wanted his hot eyes to linger, first I needed to prove I knew a thing or two, despite being younger. With an eager heart and heavy legs from my exploratory journey, I moved toward him. “Lead the way.” I gestured toward the door, yawning.
“D’alton, have you even slept?” His eyes narrowed, assessing what I was sure looked like bleary, sand-scraped eyes.
I forced enthusiasm into my voice. “I wouldn’t miss a sala leaf harvest for sleep.” I didn’t know any Boola who would. “Sala spread is delicious. Have you had it before?”
“No.” Silver placed his palm on the door scanner and walked into the red glow of the corridor. Dim track lights lined the narrow passageway’s floor.
I ate up the length of his legs with my eyes as he strode ahead quicker than necessary. “What do Earthers do with them, then?”
“We…” He coughed. “Store them.”
At least that was what I thought he’d muttered as he tapped level thirty-one on the hovertube’s panel.
It jerked and vibrated as it descended. The air thickened with tension that had my d’ink rousing once again, but I ignored the tightening ring at my base, forcing myself to say something helpful. “Storing them is a great idea.”
Silver’s side-eye at my peppy response let me know to rein it in a little.
Why didn’t he eat them instead of drinking that green goop that made his nose crinkle? But I didn’t dare ask. I sensed his annoyance. My family and friends had pointed out how annoying my optimism was on many occasions. Hyperaware of that fact, I pressed on. “Do you think I could have a few?”
He didn’t look at me as the mirror-finished doors opened and he practically bolted through. “Yeah, whatever. Do what you want with them.”
If Silver wanted my help, he showed it in a strange way.
I hustled behind him, making excuses, before we stopped at an untidy closet of sorts.
He’d been by himself for too long, that was all.
When he saw my soil guardian skills in action, he’d be happy to have me.
Even more so when he’d had a slice of pie.
“Here.” He threw a pair of oil-stained gloves at me.
“Thanks.” I stuffed them in my pocket as he kicked a hose and bucket out of the way so he could jam the door of the messy supply shed closed.
These supplies needed to be treated with care. “I know how busy you are. I can organize this for you after the harvest?”
“Knock yourself out, kid.” He ran his hand over his head before it got tangled in his long yellow hair.
His dismissive grunt as he marched past the domed greenhouses, stopping at the third, knocked me back, like a kick to the gut.
“How old are you?” He didn’t look that much older than me, but I had no idea how Earthers aged.
Best to get this out of the way. If age kept him from respecting me, I needed to know.
“Twenty-eight. Why?” He stuffed his hands into his pockets, stretching the fabric taut over his groin.
I inhaled to stay focused. “You’re only four annums older than me. On D’ulanna, I’m considered a mature male.” And had been for going on three annums. “Do you still have a problem with me?”
His eyes drilled into mine like a soil auger mining precious minerals. “No, my only problem is you trying to keep your age a secret from me.”
My smile fell, but I tapped into my dwindling patience to maintain the cheerfulness. “Good. Now we know we’re both mature males with plenty of experience.”
Silver snorted, and for a moment he leaned forward like a flower turning to the light.
“That didn’t come out right…” I bit at my lip. “I meant—”
A playful smile spread over his lips. “What exactly did you mean?”
“Never mind.” My ears burned hotter than D’ulanna’s two suns.
When Silver opened the clear plasmaglass door, rich, spiced air filled my lungs and cleared my mind. A memory of eating hanyan pie at my family’s last Lifesgiving feast melted like honey on my tongue.
My mouth watered as I took in the tall hanyan trees circling the dome’s perimeter, pausing for a moment to absorb the citrus tang and rich loam before I strolled to the stacked crates of sala leaves. “Do you have a knife?”
Silver turned and tossed a folded tool into the air. “Keep it.”
“Thanks.” I beamed at his retreating back, even though he couldn’t see me. I had a big family. I could handle complicated. Silver changed personalities faster than my niece D’izzy could transform my greenhouse into a magical kingdom to house all her dolls.
After sniffing through the crates for a perfectly ripe leaf, I carefully peeled the hairy outer layer off with my new folding knife, exposing the hard, round shell beneath. Despite the weight of Silver’s gaze, I made no move to acknowledge him.
A sharp crack filled the air when I broke the shell, and from the corner of my eye I tracked Silver moving in closer to inspect.
The moment my blade hit the air pocket, the firm orange flesh divided in two, exposing the delicious center.
A smooth pink ball rolled into my palm, and I held it out. “Here. For you.”
Startled, as if unsure how he’d come so close to me, Silver stepped back. “Nah, you have it.” Ears flushed, he turned to go. “I need to get shit done.”
“It will only take a moment.” I reached for his elbow, stopping him with a gentle tug. “Then I’ll help. I know a special trick to speed up the harvest.”
Silver stared at my fingers before I held the delicacy up to his mouth.
“It’s soft,” I said in a low voice I barely recognized. “Two mouthfuls of deliciousness.”
That hazy look, the same one as when I’d taken blood from him, met my eyes as he bit down with his blunt teeth.
Silver’s lips brushed my fingertips, and I gulped as he took exactly half.
His neck flushed pink as he pressed the remainder still dangling in my fingertips to my parted lips before stepping away. “Thanks. It’s good. Bit like avocado.”
“It’s a favorite on D’ulanna.” I swiped my hands together in front of me, dusting off imaginary soil to keep from wiping a smear of fruit from the corner of Silver’s mouth.
The sala’s rich, creamy center melted on my tongue, but a drop from Silver’s mouth would taste even better.
“The remaining flesh can be cooked into many things. I can make a stew if I can find the right ingredients.”
The overhead sprinklers turned on two rows over, dousing us in mist.
“Ask C. She might know.” Silver grunted, dragging his gaze away, and moved toward the hairiest row of sala leaves.
I crouched opposite him, plowing stake in hand.
Fearful he’d direct me to C for everything, including conversation, I worked in silence.
Silver ripped the poor shaggy leaves from the substrate, roots and all, while I gently turned them, looking for the connection node.
Pressing just enough to release the fruit, I twined a thin tendril around the exposed end to promote new growth before tucking it back into the nourishing gravel.
As one crate filled, then the next, Silver adopted my harvesting technique. I snagged my lip with a fang to stop my smile.
“On D’ulanna, my trade is soil guardian.” I spoke with hesitation, not wanting him to rush away after we’d developed this quiet comfort.
“Really?” He glanced up from where he was nestling a particularly long vine back into the loose gravel. A genuinely hopeful look shone in his eyes. “That’s like a farmer, right?”
Warmth spread through my limbs at the small sign of admiration. Though soil guardians were well respected for carrying on the agricultural practices of our ancestors, we were underpaid. The level of interest Silver showed in my trade was entirely new.
“I hate this shit.” He placed a sala leaf into a new crate. “I don’t know what the hell I’m…”
He trailed off, as if not mentioning his lack of knowledge would somehow erase it. Inside, I smiled again. Did he think I hadn’t noticed how clueless he was about plants? “I can help with the harvesting and seeding if you like?”
“Seriously?” He stood and stretched his arms overhead until his spine cracked. “I’d love you forever if you took over all this gardening crap. It’s fucking up my back.”
Though I knew his casual declaration of love meant nothing, it filled my heart with eager hope. “After I get us some fresh meat, I’ll start.”
“About that… You know you don’t have to go out there for me, right?” He shuffled the crate down the row. “I’m good. Especially now that I can pillage the other floors for jerky and you know how to eat this stuff.” He tossed his arm out in front of him, indicating the entirety of the dome.
“I still can’t believe you were sealed on level thirty-one for seven months. It must have been torture not having access to all the resources above you.”
Silver shook his head, and his long hair fell over his shoulder, yellow, bright and soft-looking. “Seven months of green smoothies when there were crates of mantu strips right above me. That’s the definition of torture.”
“What else do you like to eat?”
“My favorite dessert is apple pie.” He bit his lip and his eyes closed. “Haven’t had it since I last saw my mom.” He frowned, taking a deep breath before clearing his expression.