Chapter 5
ELENA
FOUR MONTHS LATER
The Nova Cal research station was so isolated, it might as well be alone in the universe.
Even so, I loved everything about the tiny and underfunded facility…everything, that was, except its director of research, who I would have ejected into space without a second thought given half a chance.
Luckily, my research required me to travel deep into the forest and away from the station for days or even a week at a time. Losing myself in the beauty and wonder of the wilderness filled my soul with peace—and healed old wounds no one saw or felt but me.
Well, and Forux.
My little companion leapt onto my shoulder, balanced himself, and growled. He never liked to sense my thoughts turn dark, especially in the forest, where he and I felt most at home.
I leaned my head against his soft purple fur to feel him rumble. “Sorry, friend. You’re right: I can’t be sad today. We’re going back with a lot of good specimens. No time to think about you-know-who.”
Forux curled his lip to show his teeth. He didn’t need to understand my words to know who I meant. My emotions told him exactly who had invaded my thoughts five hundred kilometers from the station.
Forux growled again, louder this time.
“Okay, okay.” I scratched his head. “Let’s get packed up. We need to be in the air in less than two hours or we won’t get to the station before dark.”
He jumped down off my shoulder and stretched as I contemplated the dozen containers spread out across the blanket I was sitting on.
Not exactly a scientific way to look over the specimens I’d collected during this three-day trip, but I didn’t feel particularly scientific at the moment.
I wanted to examine my prizes with the same kind of wonder I’d felt exploring as child on Fyloria.
Back then, I’d wandered the forest endlessly, marveling at the richness of variety of fungi and dreaming of what other species existed in the universe. Those were joy-filled days—
—right up until I returned home with my prizes to face my father’s distracted attention and mother’s utter disdain.
I sighed.
Forget intrusive thoughts about Director of Research Dr. Ardruc Husiorithae from five hundred kilometers away; my mother could ruin my mood from halfway across the galaxy.
Before Forux had a chance to growl at me again for my dark thoughts, I picked up my most significant find of the trip: a specimen I suspected might be an entirely new order of fungi.
I wouldn’t know for sure until I got back to my lab, but the equipment I’d brought with me had classified it as such based on its apparently eccentric oospores.
More than that, though, this mushroom was truly lovely, with two intertwined light blue stems, dark lines that looked like veins, dark blue fronds around the edges of the net-like cap, and another splotch of dark blue in the center of the cap.
After carefully removing it from its bed and putting it in a specimen container for scanning and analysis, I’d immediately taken out my datapad and stylus and drawn it by hand from various angles so I could really marvel at its beauty.
The rich soil, humidity, and minerals of Hyderia’s thick temperate forests made it a mycologist’s dream.
The variety and colors of the mushrooms, lichen, mold, and other fungi transformed me back into that wide-eyed child who’d thought every specimen of fungi she found was the most perfect and beautiful sight in the galaxy.
That deep contentment was one of the main reasons I’d fought so hard for permission and funding to study here, despite Ardruc’s unfriendliness.
“If this is a new order of fungi, I plan to name it after you,” I told Forux. “Basiforuximycota. Would you like that?”
Forux looked up at the sky as if wondering why I wasn’t hurrying to start walking back to the transport.
He knew I didn’t like to fly after dark, even at relatively low altitudes.
I only had to walk a little over a kilometer, but the sharply uphill journey cut through dense forest with no path and would be slow going.
I packed up my specimens, blanket, and canteen, settled my pack on my back, and followed the directions on my wristcomm with Forux riding on my shoulder. His little legs struggled to keep up over the untamed forest floor so I usually carried him for at least part of the walk.
The hike might be strenuous, especially with a heavy pack, but it was a beautiful one.
The thick trees in this hemisphere had turned spectacularly blue-green with the arrival of autumn.
The air was cool but wouldn’t get cold until the suns went down.
On the forest floor, the only sounds were those of birds, creaking branches, and rustling leaves. Perfection.
Trees covered ninety-eight percent of all land masses on Hyderia.
The planet was a preserve protected by its sister planet, Nyvor.
Three hundred years ago, the Nyvorans had nearly laid waste to the entire surface of their homeworld before they realized the error of their ways and embraced conservation.
They kept Hyderia as pristine and unspoiled as their own planet had been once upon a time and left it populated solely by its indigenous wildlife.
The Nyvoran Ministry of Natural Sciences had built six research stations on Hyderia: three located throughout the northern hemisphere and three in the south. At the moment, the only active station was Nova Cal.
The Ministry didn’t make it easy for anyone to come here, even scientists.
It had taken me well over a standard year to obtain permission for a six-month stay and the promise I would be considered to extend that stay in six-month increments as long as I shared my findings with the Ministry as well as my university lab back home on Fyloria.
Every step on Hyderian soil was a privilege, and even now, nearly four months after my arrival, I didn’t forget that.
I’d already put in my application to extend my stay.
With any luck, my previous discoveries and research would make it any easy decision for the head of Hyderian Natural Sciences on Nyvor.
If not, surely this new order of fungi—if indeed that was what I had—would tip the scales in my favor.
I took a short break about two-thirds of the way to the tiny mountainside clearing where I had landed one of Nova Cal’s two small, two-person transports.
While Forux explored the undergrowth, I sat on a fallen tree to drink water and eat a nutrition bar designed to provide energy and ease the strain from the hike.
Places to land any size of aircraft were few and far between on such a heavily forested planet, so I took advantage of those I found.
Usually I ended up landing where I could and then hiking hours or even days to the location I wanted to visit, carrying my equipment, shelter, and supplies on my back.
I used to use an antigrav sled, but decided the safer bet was to pack light and carry what I could rather than rely on tech that left me stranded more than once on a mountainside with a full day’s walk ahead of me and a pile of equipment and supplies sitting on the ground.
Little growls and rustling in the undergrowth drew my attention.
“Come on, Forux,” I called, capping my canteen and stowing it in my pack before I hopped off the tree. “We need to get going.”
My companion emerged from the bushes, wiggling backward and dragging a short branch.
“What do you have there?” I asked, peering at the branch.
Forux wagged his tails and grinned. I had no idea whether he understood my happiness at finding fungi or not, but maybe he wanted to get in on the foraging in his own way.
“Did you find a perfect stick?” I chuckled. “Okay, you can bring it.”
With a happy yip, Forux carried the branch in his teeth and trotted ahead of me as I made my way up the mountainside.
I tried not to look at my wristcomm except to check my direction because the blue dot representing me seemed to take an eternity to get close to the green one that indicated the location of the transport.
Finally, through the trees, I caught a glimpse of cobalt blue sky. I heaved a sigh of relief. “Good news, Forux. We’re almost—”
A glint of bright, crackling red in my peripheral vision made me turn my head. My footing gave way under my left boot, my ankle bent with an agonizing crunch, and down I went.
Trees, rocks, and leaf-covered soil spun around me as I tumbled down the steep slope. A protective emergency force field formed a cocoon, activated automatically by the fall sensor in my wristcomm.
Finally, I hit a large rock, ending my out-of-control tumble. The force field cushioned the impact, then crackled one last time and faded.
Oh, gods—ouch. I whimpered.
I’d ended up lying on my side against the boulder that had stopped my fall.
Before the force field activated, I’d bounced off enough rocks to feel bruised all over.
At the moment, my primary concern was my ankle.
I already felt it swelling inside my boot.
The white-hot agony made nausea surge and I let out a cry of pain.
Whining, Forux sniffed my face, and then passed his keen nose over my body before he got to my ankle. He whined again.
“Yeah, it’s broken,” I grated out, trying to breathe deeply and slowly so I could think clearly. “It hurts, Forry.”
All four of his ears went flat against his head. I only ever called him Forry when things were bad.
With another whimper, I unfastened the straps of my pack, set it aside, and rolled to my back, my chest heaving. Above me, the thick foliage blotted out every bit of sky. Suddenly the forest canopy felt a little less beautiful and more ominous.
My travel-sized medical kit couldn’t heal a broken bone relatively quickly like the medical bay back at the research station, but I could at least stabilize my ankle and dull my pain in the meantime.
Of all the rotten, rotten luck.