Chapter 9
ELENA
Ardruc didn’t speak to me for four days—not even a snide comment when we passed in the hall.
Whatever I’d done to earn a reprieve from his verbal torment, I wished I knew so I could duplicate this feat. Maybe pointing out that he’d been awful to me since the day I arrived had gotten him to back off. That didn’t feel like the right answer, but at the moment I didn’t have a better one.
Every time I passed his lab, Ardruc was scowling like a Ryoxvian drummer beetle had crawled up his ass.
He stared at his screens and rapidly cycling series of holographic images of korae, either with arms crossed or fists on his hips.
Sometimes I caught him leaning over with his palms on the desk and his head bowed, as if deep in thought.
Some aspect of his research must not be going according to his meticulously crafted plans.
Maybe a data point was outside expected parameters.
He also seemed to not be sleeping very well, even by his standards.
If he were anyone else I’d ever worked with, I’d ask him what was bothering him, but the prick would probably just bite my head off, insult my research or korae theory again, or tell me to mind my own business—or all three.
Besides, he wouldn’t want my help talking through whatever problem had him in knots.
I wasn’t scientific enough in my methods.
I might use my gut to find an answer instead of a chart.
So I focused on my own work and left him to stew.
My logged work hours focused on my new samples, including studying the Basiforuximycota specimen.
I devoted my after-hours time to learning about Hyderia’s korae phenomena.
The more I knew about the korae, the more likely I was to spot key differences between it and these tendrils—and find proof of whether they were a life form.
When I confirmed that the Basiforuximycota was as big of a discovery as I’d suspected, my lab supervisor, Dr. N’Caro, wanted to schedule a symposium back at the university on Fyloria for me to present my findings in person and answer questions about my discoveries during my first six months on Hyderia.
I’d requested to instead give my presentation via video transmission.
I feared if I left, it might give the Nyvorans an excuse not to grant my request to extend my stay.
The thought of having to leave, even to be the keynote speaker at a symposium on Fyloria and all the accolades that would bring me, made my stomach hurt.
Loving this planet as much as I did was probably a mistake, since the odds of obtaining permission to stay here long-term were slim. But every discovery I made increased those chances.
That was another big reason for me to find out if my wild theory about the red tendrils was true. Even if the Nyvorans sent astrobiologists to research this potential new life form, the discovery would be mine.
My mother might not care what fungi I discovered or the medical benefits derived from those discoveries, but even she would have the acknowledge the significance of uncovering a previously unknown form of life that existed as sentient korae.
“Why do I bother thinking about her at all?” I asked Forux, who’d curled up at my feet while I sat at my desk to examine scans of the Basiforuximycota’s spore-laden lamellae. “Why do I never learn? She wouldn’t care if I discovered a portal to another universe. Why do I care what she thinks?”
Forux raised his head and laid his ears flat, his brow furrowed.
“Because she’s my mother,” I answered myself with a sigh. “And some dumb part of me still wants her approval. How pathetic am I?”
He whined and shook his head briskly, his ears flapping.
“You’re right.” With a smile, I shook my head too.
“I can’t keep chasing something that doesn’t exist. She wanted me to be a physicist like her.
As soon as I took a different path, any chance of approval blew away like a feather in Solani sandstorm.
” I glanced at the scans on my screen, then back at Forux, who’d raised his head.
“When I look at these samples, my heart is full. What else do I need besides that joy and you? Well, and coffee.”
With a quiet chuff of agreement, he rested his head on his fluffy paws and closed his eyes.
Speaking of coffee, I wanted another cup, but I’d already used up my ration for the day. The chronometer read 2150. Well, that was a full day’s work done anyway. I’d reached a good stopping point. Time for a treat of another kind.
Forux, stretched, yawned, and followed me to our quarters.
From the moment I’d walked through its creaking door, I’d known I was going to be persona non grata here for the duration of my stay.
I’d also decided not to waste my time being angry about our accommodations.
I’d stayed longer in far humbler places.
As such, I only rarely lay in my narrow bunk with Forux snuggled beside me and imagined Ardruc in the enormous, Fortusian-sized bed in his comparatively luxurious apartment—the layout of which I knew because it was in the facility’s records.
I’d certainly never seen inside it. I couldn’t imagine a circumstance in which I ever would, or would want to.
Because the nighttime temperature was chilly, I changed from my lab attire into a thermal jumpsuit and stuck matching gloves and a cap in the pockets.
The jumpsuit tended to keep me plenty warm, but sometimes the roof was very windy.
I wanted to be able to stay up there as long as I wanted without my hands turning to icicles.
“Do you want to go to the roof with me?” I asked Forux. “Or stay here and nap?”
Forux tilted his head, glanced at my bunk, and then trotted to my side. I smiled and bent to scratch his head. “Thanks, friend.”
I took my bedroll that I typically brought on multi-day research trips and headed up to the facility’s roof.
The mostly single-level Nova Cal station was built on a platform five meters off the rocky sloped ground. The facility could be accessed from ground level by the lift or sets of stairs, or from the air via the landing pad on the main roof.
I took the lift up to the large square landing pad.
Both of the facility’s two small transports were on the pad.
I crossed the roof to a ladder that led to the highest roof of the building above the imaging lab.
Unlike the rest of the squat facility, the interior of the lab was ten meters tall to allow for enormous holographics, galleries of images, large amounts of displayed data, and many other uses.
Its roof, which was entirely covered with native grasses, offered the best views of the mountainside, the valley below, and the sky.
Sometimes I brought a backpack stuffed with portable viewing equipment to get a close-up view of Hyderia’s famed upper-atmospheric korae.
Tonight, I came empty-handed. I’d spent way too many hours lately staring at screens and holograms and data.
I wanted to connect with the planet—to see the sky, listen to all the natural rhythms, and feel the grass under my feet.
I unfurled my bedroll, which expanded to form a comfortable sleeping surface complete with adjustable headrest, and sat cross-legged on its softness.
As much as I loved the station’s grassy roof, at this time of year it tended to be cold and hard.
Forux settled in next to me, curling up against my hip.
With his thick fur, he wasn’t in any danger of being cold, so his closeness was more about his love and desire to stay nearby.
I ran my fingers through his fur and scratched him until he made quiet rumbly purrs.
This roof was quieter than the landing pad area, especially when the imaging lab wasn’t in use. Silence reigned, except for the faint humming of the station, and with the exterior floodlights off, no light pollution ruined my view.
The night was lovely and clear. Only minimal cloud cover and little to no chance of rain. On most planets that would mean probably no lightning, but not on Hyderia. A clear night simply meant a better view of the korae.
If I was lucky, we’d get another great display of upper-atmospheric phenomena tonight. It would all be captured by the station’s array of imagers, telescopes, and a myriad of scientific devices for later analysis.
Even if there was only a few korae, that was fine.
Once my eyes adjusted to the dark, the nighttime view of the mountainside and valley was breathtaking, and well worth the climb up here.
This mountain range, like all others on the planet, was heavily forested.
Only the windswept peaks were rocky and barren.
Hyderia was paradise, or as close to it as mortals could access.
I planned to work as a field researcher for a long, long time still, and the prospect of spending that time here, either at Nova Cal or as a permanent resident, was a dream.
I’d demonstrated my commitment to conservation and ecologically centered research throughout my education and professional career.
And if I had any good luck coming in my life, I wouldn’t mind using it all to get that highly coveted approval from Nyvoran Ministry of Natural Sciences.
The air was cold enough for me to see my breath, but my jumpsuit kept me toasty warm.
I put on my thermal gloves and hat and lay down, settling in with my head on the bedroll’s plush headrest. With a contented sigh, Forux tucked himself between my elbow and my side.
Above us, distant stars and planets glowed in the sky.
A comet or asteroid was passing overhead, trailed by a streak of white.
Unbidden, an image of Ardruc lying up here staring at the sky popped into my head and made me chuckle.