3. Alice
CHAPTER 3
ALICE
T he jungle's alive this morning. I can hear it in the rustling leaves, feel it in the damp air clinging to my skin. My eyes are fixed on the Meltorian oak—at least, that's what I've been calling it. Its bark shimmers with an iridescent blue I've never seen anywhere else.
"Look at you," I whisper, running my fingers along its trunk. "You've grown another inch since yesterday." It's an enormous thing, and compared to a few others I've seen around the planet, it must be very young. I knew they got big —bigger than any other tree I've ever observed— but they also seem to grow so quickly.
I have to wonder how tall one of these can get before it just stops. Or does something else in the environment make it stop?
A blinding flash interrupts my observations. I throw my arm up, squinting against the sudden light. "What the?—"
My heart leaps into my throat as I spot it—a ship, plummeting from the sky like a meteor.
"Oh God," I breathe, watching as the ship disappears behind the treeline. A deafening crash follows, and the earth shakes violently. The ground trembles beneath my feet, and I stumble, catching myself on the tree. Small, furry and scaled creatures I've dubbed 'scurriers' dart past my boots, fleeing the commotion.
My hands are shaking. I haven't seen another person in... how long has it been? Almost a year? The isolation hits me anew, a weight pressing down on my chest.
"Get it together, Alice," I mutter, trying to steady my breathing. "You don't know who's in that ship. Could be anyone. Could be dangerous."
But even as the words leave my mouth, I know I can't just stand here. I'm the only one on this godforsaken planet who can help. What if someone's hurt? What if they're dying while I'm here talking to myself like a crazy person?
"Okay. Okay, you can do this." I take a deep breath, steeling myself. "Just... be careful."
I start picking my way through the dense foliage, my mind racing. What if it's pirates? What if they want to hurt me? What if?—
No. I can't think like that. I have to help. It's the right thing to do.
As I push through a particularly thick patch of ferns, I can't help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. "Well, Alice," I say to myself, "looks like you might finally get that company you've been wishing for. Let's just hope they're friendly."
The smell of burning metal and fuel grows stronger as I near the crash site. My heart's pounding so hard I can hear it in my ears. I pause at the edge of a clearing, peering through the leaves at the smoking wreckage before me.
"Here goes nothing," I whisper, and step out into the open.
I take a deep breath, willing my voice not to shake. "Hello? Is anyone there? Can you hear me?"
My words echo through the clearing, swallowed up by the dense jungle. Nothing. Not even a groan or a cry for help. The silence is deafening, broken only by the occasional pop and hiss from the wreckage.
"Come on," I mutter, inching closer to the ship. "Give me a sign. Anything."
The vessel's a mess, that's for sure. Twisted metal and shattered glass litter the ground. One wing's completely torn off, lying several yards away. The hull's crumpled like a tin can, smoke still rising from various points.
My stomach churns. Could anyone have survived this?
I scan the area, looking for any sign of movement, any hint of life. "Hello?" I try again, louder this time. "If you can hear me, make a sound! I'm here to help!"
Still nothing.
Minutes tick by, each one stretching out like an eternity. I pace back and forth, debating my next move. Should I try to get closer? What if the ship explodes? But what if someone's trapped inside, unable to call for help?
"Damn it," I hiss, running a hand through my hair. "What am I supposed to do? I'm a scientist, not a first responder. They didn't even teach me CPR!"
The rational part of my brain tells me to wait, to be cautious. But another part, the part that's been starved for human contact for so long, urges me to act.
I glance at my watch. Five minutes have passed. Five minutes of absolute stillness.
"Maybe... maybe it was unmanned," I say aloud, trying to convince myself. "Some kind of drone or automated cargo ship."
But even as I say it, I know it's unlikely. A ship this size, making atmospheric entry? It had to have a pilot.
My eyes drift back to the wreckage. Through a gap in the twisted metal, I catch a glimpse of what might be a cockpit. My heart races. If there was a pilot, that's where they'd be.
"Hello?" I call out one last time, my voice cracking. "Please, if you can hear me, give me a sign. Anything at all."
The jungle answers with its usual cacophony of alien sounds, but from the ship? Nothing but silence.
I'm about to give up when I hear it—a dull thud coming from the other side of the wreckage. My heart leaps into my throat.
"Hello?" I call out, scrambling around the twisted metal. "Is someone there?"
Another thud, louder this time. As I round the corner, I spot a hatch on the side of the ship. It's bulging outward slightly with each impact. Someone's alive in there!
"Hey! I'm here!" I shout, rushing towards the hatch. "I'll get you out, just hang on!"
As I get closer, I notice the problem. A massive tree trunk has fallen across the hatch, pinning it shut. Smoke billows from nearby cracks in the hull, and sparks dance across exposed wiring. This isn't good.
"Can you hear me?" I yell, pressing my ear to the metal. "I'm going to move this tree, okay? Just... just stay calm!"
I wrap my hands around the trunk, gritting my teeth as I pull with all my might. It doesn't budge an inch.
"Damn it," I hiss, letting go. My palms are raw and stinging. "Okay, think Alice. Think!"
My eyes dart around the clearing, searching for anything I can use. That's when I spot it—a long metal beam, probably torn off during the crash.
"Perfect," I mutter, rushing to grab it. It's heavier than I expected, but I manage to drag it back to the hatch.
"Alright," I call out, wedging one end under the tree trunk. "I'm going to try to lever this thing off. If you can hear me, maybe... I don't know, bang twice or something?"
Two distinct thuds answer me. I can't help but grin.
"Okay, here goes nothing!"
I throw my weight onto the other end of the beam. For a moment, nothing happens. Then, with a groan of protest, the tree trunk starts to move.
"Come on," I grunt, pushing harder. "Come on, you stupid log!"
Inch by agonizing inch, the trunk lifts away from the hatch. My arms are shaking, muscles screaming in protest, but I don't dare stop. Not when I'm so close.
With one final push, the trunk rolls free. I collapse to my knees, gasping for breath.
"It's clear!" I shout between pants. "You should be able to open it now!"
The hatch opens, and a cloud of smoke pours out. I cough, fanning my hand in front of my face.
When I can finally stand to open my eyes again, I see a large, blue skinned man pulling himself from the wreckage, clothing ripped and muscles bulging with each move.
Despite the intensity of this emergency, all I can do is think that he's the hottest man I've ever seen in my entire life.