15. Alice
CHAPTER 15
ALICE
T he morning sun streams through the station's windows as I check my research notes again. Nothing groundbreaking. Just more of the same observations I've been making for months. I tap my stylus against the desk, trying to focus on work instead of the way Davrik barely looked at me during breakfast.
"Hey." I stand in the doorway of the common room where he's reading something on his tablet. "Want to come see the new growth patterns I found in sector seven?"
"Maybe later." He doesn't even look up. "I need to check some things."
My chest tightens. "Right. Of course."
I retreat to my lab, the sterile white walls suddenly feeling more like a prison than a workspace. The calendar on my desk mocks me - only a little over a month until the transport arrives. A few weeks until everything changes, or more likely, nothing changes at all.
"Computer, pull up my preliminary findings." The holographic display flickers to life, showing months of careful documentation. "Cross-reference with known botanical databases."
"No significant matches found," the computer chirps.
I slam my hand on the desk. "There has to be something! Show me the cellular analysis from last week's samples."
The display shifts, but the results are the same as always. Nothing revolutionary. Nothing that will keep me from being shipped off to another remote post where I can't embarrass the company.
And I don't even have a handsome alien boyfriend to confide all this in. I don't know what's gotten into Davrik all of a sudden, but it seems he'd rather be interested in anything that isn't me.
And things were going so well, too. I'd thought after that night, with the waterfalls, and the couch…
No. I'm silly na?ve little human Alice once again.
I grab my sample kit and shove it into my pack with more force than necessary. The equipment rattles in protest, but I don't care. My boots thump against the metal flooring as I stride toward the airlock.
"Computer, log field research expedition alpha-seven-nine." My voice comes out steadier than I feel. "Estimated return, six hours."
"Logged. Weather conditions are optimal. Temperature twenty-three degrees Celsius."
I pull on my protective gear, double-checking the seals more from muscle memory than actual attention. Through the common room window, I catch a glimpse of Davrik still absorbed in whatever's so fascinating on his tablet. Fine. Let him brood.
The airlock hisses open, and warm jungle air rushes in. The familiar scent of decay and growth fills my nose - this is what I'm here for. This is what matters. Not some temporary fling with a mysterious alien who clearly has better things to do.
"Research is the priority," I mutter, stepping onto the path. "Always has been."
The jungle welcomes me with its symphony of clicks and rustles. A six-legged creature scurries across my path, probably one of the local omnivores I cataloged last month. The dense canopy above filters the sunlight into dappled patterns on the ground.
I check my wrist display for the coordinates of my latest research site. The specimens there showed promise - unusual cellular structures that could revolutionize our understanding of xenobotany. If I can just focus on that instead of...
"Stop it," I tell myself firmly. "You're not some lovesick teenager. You're a scientist."
The path winds deeper into the jungle, and with each step, the station - and Davrik - falls further behind. Good. This is what I need. Just me, my research, and the fascinating ecosystem of Meltor IV. Everything else can wait.
I pull out my scanner and get to work.
The humidity clings to my skin as I trudge through the undergrowth. My scanner beeps steadily, but I barely register the readings. Every blue flower reminds me of his skin. Every rustle in the trees makes me think he's followed me out here.
"Focus, Alice." I adjust my pack. "The cellular degradation rates of the?—"
A dull ache throbs behind my sternum. It's been getting worse the further I walk from the station. Like someone's hooked a fishing line through my chest and keeps tugging.
"That's ridiculous." I rub the spot. "Probably just anxiety. Or indigestion from those weird fruits I tried yesterday."
But it doesn't feel like either of those things. It feels like... longing? But deeper, more primal. Like my body knows something my brain hasn't figured out yet.
"He's just some guy." My voice sounds hollow even to my own ears. "Some admittedly gorgeous, mysterious guy who happened to crash land here and?—"
The pain sharpens. I stop walking, press my hand harder against my chest.
"This is stupid. I'm acting like some teenager with her first crush instead of a trained scientist who?—"
A flash of movement gets my attention. Something small and fuzzy scurries across my path.
"Oh!" I jerk back, trying not to crush the creature. My boot catches on something thick and ropey. A vine? My arms windmill as I stumble backward. and to the side
A few more off balance steps and the ground disappears beneath my feet. My stomach lurches as I fall, the world spinning in a kaleidoscope of green and brown. Impact knocks the breath from my lungs.
I blink up at the circle of sky far above me. The pit walls rise at least fifteen feet, slick with moss and morning dew. My ankle throbs where I landed on it.
"Well." I sit up slowly, wincing. "This is just perfect."
"Stupid, stupid, stupid." Each word punctuates another attempt to find purchase on the slick walls. My fingers slide uselessly through the moss. "Ten months without a major incident, and now this?"
The throbbing in my ankle intensifies with each failed attempt. I slump back against the earthen wall, letting my head thud against it.
"Some scientist you are. Got distracted thinking about a boy and fell in a hole. Real professional."
My pack lies a few feet away, contents scattered from the fall. I drag myself over, gritting my teeth against the pain shooting up my leg. The first aid kit tumbles out along with my sample containers.
"At least nothing broke." The scanner's cracked screen blinks weakly at me. "Well, almost nothing."
The pain makes my hands shake as I dig through the kit. No proper compression bandages, just some strips of cloth meant for securing plant samples. They'll have to do.
"This is going to hurt." I bite my lip and start wrapping my ankle. Each movement sends fresh waves of agony up my leg.
The makeshift bandage looks pathetic, but it's better than nothing. I test putting weight on it and immediately regret it. The ground swims before my eyes.
"Okay, new plan." I settle back against the wall, trying to think through the pain. "I could... no, that won't work. Maybe if I... no, definitely not."
The walls mock me with their height and slickness. Even if my ankle wasn't sprained, climbing out seems impossible. My emergency beacon's in my other pack, back at the station.
"Real smart, Alice. Real smart." I close my eyes. "What's next? Going to start a conversation with the moss?"
The pain throbs in time with my heartbeat. Each pulse reminds me how spectacularly I've messed up. One moment of distraction, and now I'm stuck at the bottom of a pit with a sprained ankle and no way out.
But then, something catches my eye. Something bright red, and small, hiding in the darkest corner of this pit.
I crawl over towards it, the warm soil sticking to my knees.
"Hello there," I say, reaching out to touch the small, pointy petals. "I don't think we've ever met."
The plant is small, so small, but once I know what to look for I notice several of them all around me. Tiny, blood red petals burst from pockets in the dirt wall. The stem is riddled with needle like thorns that are so tiny, it only bristles against my fingertips. The scent it leaves behind reminds of the ocean.
My breath catches in my lungs. I've never seen anything like this before.