5. Alice
CHAPTER 5
ALICE
I wake up with a jolt, my heart racing. For a moment, I forget why I'm so on edge. Then it hits me—Davrik. The blue-skinned stranger crashed into my solitary world yesterday.
Padding to the kitchen, I nearly jump out of my skin when I see him sitting at the table, sipping what looks like coffee from my favorite mug.
"Morning," he grunts, not looking up.
"Um, hi." I fidget with the hem of my oversized sleep shirt. "Sleep okay?"
He shrugs. "Your couch isn't the worst place I've crashed."
An awkward silence stretches between us. I busy myself making tea, hyper-aware of his presence behind me. My fingers tremble slightly as I pour hot water into my mug.
"So," I start, desperate to fill the quiet, "any plans for today?"
Davrik sets down the mug with a soft clink. "Gonna check out the damage on my ship. Got those tools you mentioned?"
"Right! Yes, of course." I hurry to the storage closet, grateful for something to do. When I return with the toolbox, he's standing by the door, all lean muscle and dangerous grace. My breath catches.
"Thanks," he says, taking the box.
"Good luck," I blurt out. "With the ship, I mean."
He nods, then hesitates. "Listen, I appreciate the help. But it's probably best if I do this on my own. No telling what could happen with the ship."
A chill runs down my spine, but I force a smile. "Right. Of course. I've got my own work to do anyway."
As soon as he's gone, I slump against the wall, heart pounding. What have I gotten myself into? But as I gather my research gear, I can't help but replay the image of his green eyes, the way his dark hair fell across his forehead...
Stop it, Alice, I scold myself. You're a scientist, not some lovestruck teenager. Focus on the plants. They're the reason you're here.
Stepping outside, I take a deep breath of Meltor IV's muggy air. The familiar scent of alien flora centers me. This is what I know. This is where I belong.
As I head toward my research site, I glance back at the station. In the distance, I can just make out Davrik's tall form by his crashed ship.
Don't dwell on him, I tell myself firmly. You've got work to do.
I kneel beside a vibrant bush, its leaves a bright purple. My fingers tremble slightly as I pluck a sample, placing it carefully in my collection bag.
"Steady on, Alice," I mutter to myself. "It's just another day in paradise."
A soft rustling catches my attention. I look up to see a small, fuzzy creature inching its way along a nearby vine. It's about the size of my palm, with six stubby legs and what appears to be a tiny trunk.
"Well, hello there," I coo, momentarily forgetting my worries. "Aren't you just the cutest little... whatever you are?"
The creature pauses, its trunk twitching in my direction. I hold my breath, not wanting to startle it.
"That's right," I whisper. "Just pretend I'm not here. Go about your important vine-crawling business."
As I watch the fuzzy alien continue its slow journey, I can't help but smile. It's moments like these that remind me why I fell in love with xenobotany in the first place. Though sometimes, it also makes me wish I'd gone for straight xenobiology instead.
A shadow flits across the canopy above, and my smile fades. I scan the treetops, my heart rate quickening. There it is again—something large, moving with predatory grace through the upper branches.
"Right," I mutter, gathering my samples with shaking hands. "Time to call it a day, I think."
I stand, my knees popping in protest. As I turn to leave, I cast one last glance at the fuzzy creature. "Stay safe, little guy. Watch out for the big nasties."
My pace quickens as I make my way back to the research station. The jungle seems to press in around me, full of unseen dangers. I try to focus on my breathing, on putting one foot in front of the other.
"This is ridiculous," I chide myself. "You're a scientist, not some scared kid. You should be out there, observing, cataloging?—"
A distant roar cuts through the air, and I break into a run.
By the time I reach the safety of the station, I'm out of breath and drenched in sweat. I lean against the door, panting.
"Another productive day in the field, huh?" I mutter sarcastically.
As I begin unpacking my meager haul of samples, I can't help but feel a twinge of frustration. How much time have I wasted, scurrying back to safety at the first sign of danger? How many discoveries have I missed because I'm too scared to stay out when things get dicey?
"Some scientist you are," I grumble, arranging the leaves on my workstation. "Scared of your own shadow out there."
I glance out the lab window, my eyes drawn to Davrik's tall form hunched over his damaged ship. He's been at it for hours, the sun climbing high in Meltor IV's purple sky. I wince as he kicks the hull, a string of colorful curses drifting through the humid air.
"Not going well, huh?" I mutter to myself, chewing my bottom lip.
As I watch him struggle, a realization hits me: he might be here longer than either of us anticipated. The thought sends a flutter through my stomach—excitement or anxiety, I'm not sure which.
"Come on, Alice," I chide myself. "You can't just let him starve out there."
Before I can talk myself out of it, I'm in the kitchen, pulling out ingredients. Cooking's never been my strong suit, but surely I can manage something edible.
An hour later, I'm staring at a concoction that can charitably be called a stew. It's... lumpy. And an odd shade of green. But it smells okay. I think.
"Well," I sigh, ladling it into two bowls, "here goes nothing."
I make my way outside, carefully balancing the bowls. Davrik looks up as I approach, his brow furrowing
"What's that?" he asks, eyeing the bowls suspiciously.
I hold one out to him. "Dinner. Or... an attempt at dinner, anyway."
He takes it, sniffing cautiously. "It's not poisonous, is it?"
"Only one way to find out," I quip, immediately regretting it when his eyebrows shoot up. "I mean, no! No, it's perfectly safe. Probably."
Davrik looks from the bowl to me, then back again. Finally, he shrugs and takes a bite. His face contorts in a way that tells me everything I need to know.
"That bad, huh?" I ask, trying not to sound too disappointed.
He swallows hard. "I've had worse. Once. I think."
Despite myself, I laugh. "Well, don't force yourself. I know I'm not exactly a culinary genius."
To my surprise, he takes another bite. "It's food," he says simply. "And I'm hungry."
We eat in silence for a few moments, the jungle alive with alien sounds around us. I steal glances at him, noticing the way the fading sunlight plays across his blue skin.
"So," I venture, "how's the repair going?"
Davrik grunts, gesturing at the battered ship. "Could be better. Could be worse."
"Is there anything I can do to help?"
He pauses, seeming to consider it. "You got any experience with quantum flux capacitors?"
I blink. "I... don't even know what that is."
A ghost of a smile flickers across his face. "Then no, probably not."
We lapse into silence again, but it feels less awkward now. As I watch him finish his bowl—impressively quickly, given the quality—I feel a warmth in my chest that has nothing to do with the Meltor IV heat.