16. Davrik
CHAPTER 16
DAVRIK
T hrough my window, I watch the sun dip lower in the sky. Alice should have returned by now. She's never this late, and a knot forms in my stomach despite my attempts to ignore it.
"She's fine," I mutter to myself. "She doesn't need me checking up on her."
But my feet carry me to the door anyway. The evening air hits my face as I step outside, bringing with it the sweet scent of the local flora. I've learned their names from Alice over these past weeks, though I pretend not to remember them.
My boots crunch against the purple grass as I follow her usual research path. Something catches my eye - a metallic glint that doesn't belong. I crouch down to investigate.
A wrapper. Not from my supplies, and certainly not Alice's. She lectures me daily about proper waste disposal and environmental impact. This is recent too - the material hasn't started breaking down in the acidic soil.
I pocket the wrapper and continue forward. Ten meters later, I spot another one. Then boot prints that don't match either of our treads.
More evidence appears as I walk - a discarded battery cell, cigarette butts, even an empty ammo casing. These aren't the traces of researchers or official personnel. This has the hallmark of people who don't want to be found.
My chest tightens. Where the hell is Alice? She's out here somewhere, probably completely unaware she's not alone anymore. And knowing her, she's too focused on her plants to notice any danger.
I pick up my pace, following her tracking beacon's signal. The growing darkness makes the forest look alien and threatening, nothing like the peaceful sanctuary she showed me.
"Alice," I whisper to myself. "What have you gotten yourself into?"
The pull in my chest grows stronger with each step. Something's wrong. My instincts scream at me to move faster, but I force myself to stay alert, scanning the darkening forest for any movement.
"Hello?" A weak voice carries through the trees. "Is anyone there?"
My heart skips. "Alice?"
"Davrik? Oh thank the stars." Her voice comes from below. "I'm down here!"
I follow her voice to the edge of a deep pit, maybe four meters down. Alice sits at the bottom, leg stretched out awkwardly. Dirt and leaves cover her usually pristine research uniform.
"Are you hurt?" I drop to my knees at the edge.
"Just my pride. And maybe my ankle." She winces. "But look what I found!" She holds up a specimen container with something tiny inside. "This could be exactly what I've been searching for!"
"Only you would get excited about plants while stuck in a hole." I scan the area for anything I can use. A thick vine wraps around a nearby tree. "Can you stand?"
"Yeah, just carefully." She pushes herself up, favoring her right leg.
I yank the vine free and test its strength. It holds. "I'm going to lower this down. Wrap it around your waist."
"Are you sure it'll hold?"
"These things are stronger than steel cable. You've told me that about fifty times."
She laughs weakly. "I didn't think you were listening."
"I always listen." The words slip out before I can stop them. I clear my throat. "Ready?"
She secures herself, and I brace against the tree, pulling steadily. The muscles in my back strain, but I don't stop until she's safely on solid ground.
She stumbles as she finds her footing, and I catch her against myself. For a moment, we stay like that, her breath warm against my neck.
"Thank you," she whispers.
I step back quickly, my hands dropping from her waist like I've been burned. Alice doesn't seem to notice, already fumbling with her specimen container.
"Look at these cellular structures!" She holds it up to catch the fading light. "The way it processes nutrients is completely unique. I've never seen anything like it in all my research here."
Her eyes light up as she rambles about chemical compositions and biological markers. I try to focus on her words, but keep getting distracted by the smudge of dirt on her cheek and the way her hands shake slightly from excitement or cold.
"This could be it, Davrik. The breakthrough I've been looking for." She clutches the container to her chest. "Maybe they'll finally see I deserve to be here."
My chest aches. I want to tell her she has nothing to prove, that she's already more capable than most people I've met. Instead, I ask, "Can you make it back?"
"Of course!" She takes a determined step and immediately stumbles.
"Right." I move closer. "And I'm the president of the Alliance."
"I just need a minute." She tries again, grimacing. "The station's not that far."
"Alice."
"Really, I can-" She yelps as I scoop her up. "What are you doing?"
"Getting us back before dark." I adjust her weight in my arms. She's lighter than I expected. "Unless you'd rather hop there on one foot?"
She huffs but doesn't protest further, just holds her precious specimen closer. "My hero," she mutters sarcastically.
"Don't get used to it." But I'm grateful for the growing darkness that hides my smile as I carry her home.
Safely back at the station, I set Alice down gently on the couch, propping her injured ankle on a cushion. "Stay put. I'll make dinner."
"I can help-" She starts to get up.
"Stay." I point at her firmly before heading to the kitchen.
A familiar blue light flickers to life from the kitchen counter. I forgot I'd left Navi there after breakfast, and I'm sure she's not happy about it.
"Welcome back, Captain. Your heart rate is elevated. Did something exciting happen?"
"Alice fell in a pit," I say, pulling ingredients from the storage unit. "She's fine."
"The human researcher? Is she here? I'd love to finally meet her. My databanks on human behavior could use updating."
"Navi, no-"
"Did someone say meet?" Alice hobbles into the kitchen, using the wall for support. "Is that your ship's AI?"
I sigh. "Alice, this is Navi. Navi, this is-"
"Dr. Alice Watson, xenobotanist. Your research on adaptive plant evolution is fascinating." Navi's hologram brightens. "Though your safety protocols could use some work."
Alice laughs, easing herself onto a stool. "You've read my papers?"
"I have access to multiple scientific databases. Your theory on chemical communication between native species is particularly intriguing."
"Really? Most people find it boring." She leans forward, eyes bright. "Or worse, reductive."
"The peer review was obviously biased against your humanity, as per usual in the scientific community. But, as I lack any species whatsoever, I also lack such biases. Your work was perfectly coherent and passed my professional scrutiny."
"What do you think about the potential applications for-"
"Don't encourage her," I interrupt, chopping vegetables with more force than necessary. "She'll talk your ear off about science all night."
"Technically, I don't have ears," Navi points out. "And unlike some people, I appreciate intellectual discourse."
Alice grins. "I like her."
"She grows on you," I admit. "Like a fungus."
"I prefer to think of myself as a highly evolved artificial intelligence, but whatever helps you sleep at night, Captain."
The kitchen fills with the sound of Alice's laughter and the sizzle of cooking food. She and Navi dive into a discussion about something scientific I can't follow. The familiar rhythm of cooking, the warmth of the kitchen, the way Alice's eyes light up as she gestures enthusiastically – it feels like home in a way that scares me.
I could get used to this. Her presence on my ship, exploring the galaxy together, showing her all the wonders I've seen. But the weight of my cargo and what I do sits heavy in my chest. This isn't my life to keep.
Still, her eyes sparkle with gratitude as I serve her plate of food. And for a moment, everything feels right again.
But only for a moment.