Page 2 of Alien on the Moon (Thryal Mates #3)

Rylan

“Here are the samples you asked for, boss.”

Rylan looked up from the incubation chamber, his hands covered in gloves deep inside the cube. He blinked a few times to adjust his sight, his eyes having been narrowed to his work for what felt like hours.

“Thank you. Place them in the transfer pod, please.” Triim carefully navigated the tubes into the smaller adjacent chamber, sealing it and pressing the vacuum button. A slight hiss emanated from the mechanism as it pulled out the air and replaced it with a gaseous mixture aligned with Kheros’s atmosphere.

Rylan reached out to grab the samples, a slight cramp in his hand making him wince. He glanced up at the clock on the wall. Shit. It really has been hours , he thought. With a sigh, he pulled his hands out and stretched.

“I’ll get back to these later,” he said, mostly to himself.

Triim smiled tightly from where he was clearing his station.

Rylan left the lab, rubbing one side of his neck where a crick had formed. He wished he could attribute it purely to staying in one position for too long, but he knew the build-up of stress over the past few weeks was likely the main culprit.

The common room was still packed when he entered. The smell of rehydrated food packs filled the small area, making his mouth water despite the slightly sterile smell of it. Though he dreaded Stiya’s update from Arccoo, he was looking forward to the fresh produce she’d be bringing from Thryal.

If only they could be self-sufficient, but that was the crux of the matter.

“Hey, boss! Are you joining us, or are you too good for us lowly scientists?” Jaku called from across the room. Kyn punched his arm, though she was hiding a smile.

Rylan rolled his eyes. “Get over it, Jaku,” he said with a smirk. The jokester would never let him forget his place at the top of the hierarchy in the base. Ironic, since Jaku outranked him back home. Rylan quickly punched in his order and carried his tray over to the table.

“How are the baby brals coming along?” Kyn asked, and the table grew quiet.

Rylan sighed. “They’re touch and go. One minute it seems like they’re taking, and then there’s discoloration or they just outright wilt.”

“Might be all that negative energy you’re carrying around, boss,” Jaku joked, sufficiently breaking the tension.

Rylan kicked him under the table, a small smile forming on his lips. Jaku yelped.

“Yes, yes, I know, future of the planet and all. We’ll get there, we just need more time,” Jaku said, uncharacteristically serious.

Around the table, “yes” and “we got this” echoed from his coworkers. Rylan nodded to show his appreciation for the support.

His mind raced as he finished his meal. The chatter of the common room faded into the background. The food, usually flavorful, tasted ashy in his mouth. He barely said goodbye to his colleagues, his mind already back in the incubation cube.

“If we changed the atmosphere, made it more like Thryal… but first we need plants to grow and oxygenate. Damn!” His mutters were mostly ignored by the scientists and auxiliary staff in the corridors, with everyone stationed here used to it by now. Even if what came out of his mouth was rubbish, for some reason, it helped straighten things out in his head.

Usually.

Hours later, Kyn found him carefully measuring out compounds in the lab. She apologized for the interruption, a grimace on her face.

Rylan groaned. “What is it now? Please don’t tell me the soil samples have already run out,” Rylan said, rubbing his face.

Kyn sighed. “They have, but that’s not why I’m here. We’ve received a comm from the mainland.” She shuffled on her feet, and Rylan held back his impatience on a thin tether.

“From Stiya? Has she spoken with the prince?”

“Not from Stiya. The prince himself. He’s… well, here, read it yourself.” She handed her holo-blet to him. Rylan’s breath caught in his throat. The fear of the project being shut down gripped him. Slowly, he took the device from Kyn and read the missive from the crown prince.

“He’s sending his sister-in-law? What?”

Kyn shrugged. “It doesn’t say much. Just that she’s a ‘brilliant mind’ and he believes she could bring a fresh perspective.” She paused, an eyebrow raised. “Isn’t she from Earth? Not to be rude, but… what could she possibly contribute that we haven’t?”

Rylan tipped his head back in frustration. Though he felt bad for thinking it, he couldn’t help but agree with Kyn. He didn’t need a royal tag-a-long to babysit on top of his current situation.

Loyalty to the Crown made his back straighten, and he pinned Kyn with a look.

“I get what you’re saying, and this might just be a way for him to monitor his ‘investment,’ but she is still royal. We should treat her with the necessary respect.”

Kyn nodded, looking chastised. Rylan patted her on the shoulder, reassuring her.

“It will be challenging, on top of everything, but let’s keep our heads, yeah?”

Kyn smiled slightly, taking her holo-blet and leaving him to his thoughts.

Rylan turned back to his samples. He struggled to concentrate, not helped by the protests from his stomach. He hadn’t eaten since lunch. Even then, he barely finished the small meal.

When he reached the common room, it was almost empty. The cooks were already starting to clear up. Rylan nodded his thanks as the head chef pulled out a plate of meat and vegetables, the last of their supply.

He placed his holographic computer on the table, reading through his comms as he ate. The one from Prince Arccoo caught his eye and he reread it. Along with the message about his sister-in-law returning with Stiya, he’d attached a report from the royal scientists.

Conditions continue to decline within Thryal’s atmosphere. At the current rate of population growth and waste production, the point of no return lies within the next thirty years. The implementation of the air purification and waste management projects proves to be ineffective at significantly slowing the rate of decline. Due to the cost and ineffectiveness of the developments, further expansion is not recommended at this time.

The recommendations included relocation of at least ten percent of the population within the next decade, as well as replacing half of the food production with alternative measures. Rylan swore. The pressure behind his eyes grew almost unbearable.

The other reason for Kyn’s visit permeated through his doom and gloom, and he stood resolutely. Nothing like the outdoors to clear a mind, and he might as well collect the samples they needed in the process. He sent a quick request for assistance to Triim.

As he suited up, he felt a pang of homesickness for Thryal. He always went for a hike when he felt overwhelmed, but due to the landscape and low oxygen levels, it wasn’t feasible on Kheros.

Feasible, maybe, but not pleasant, he corrected himself.

He caught up with Triim as he entered the transport pod. The older Thryal man was built like a tank, his suit straining over his muscled biceps. Rylan always wondered where he found the time to work out.

He shook his head at himself; not everyone had an unhealthy obsession with work. Rylan found it hard to switch off and struggled to maintain a healthy routine.

It was why, despite his success and wealth, he was still glaringly single. He couldn’t imagine making time for someone outside of his passion.

“How are the twins?” he asked Triim as he buckled in.

Triim grinned as he punched in the coordinates for the newly planted crop fields.

“Terrors. My wife was so happy she only had to be pregnant once, but she’s regretting it now.”

Rylan laughed. “What are they now, three? I can’t imagine controlling two toddlers,” he said, wincing.

“It’s a task, for sure. Makes me happy I’m stationed here three out of four weeks a month,” he said, though Rylan saw a glint of sadness in his eyes. They fell into silence for the rest of the ride, both occupied in their thoughts.

The Kheros sky darkened as they stepped out of the pod, the distance from the sun causing a chill in the air. Rylan pulled a thermometer from his toolbelt and swore as he saw the reading.

“Not good for the new hatchlings,” he murmured to Triim, showing him the reading.

Triim stooped down, dipping his gloved fingers in the soil. He looked up at Rylan with a grave expression.

Triim was their best field tech. From his expression, Rylan could tell this batch would likely be another failure. He swore softly. They were quickly running out of options.

“Let’s get the samples in any case. Perhaps collecting this time of day will show us something else.”

Triim nodded, though Rylan knew it was wishful thinking. The soil would give the same results.

As Triim boxed up the samples, Rylan took out his oxygen meter and measured the air. He frowned. When he checked his notes, he was bewildered.

“According to this reading, the oxygen levels have increased,” he said to Triim. “The new plants have barely sprung up!” He crouched to inspect a seedling. The color was off, and the shape of the leaves looked more oblong than round.

“What could be causing this?” he said rhetorically, running a hand over his bald head. His hand snagged on his oxygen mask. If the increase in oxygen levels continued, they soon wouldn’t need them anymore.

Rylan tossed and turned in his bed. The oxygen levels in the air—usually too high in carbon dioxide to breathe—worried him. It should be a milestone. It should be an achievement.

“It’s useless if we don’t know why. We can’t replicate it,” he muttered, his voice thick with exhaustion. He couldn’t remember the last time he had a good night’s sleep.

As always when he couldn’t sleep, he dressed and returned to the lab. The automatic lights flicked on, illuminating the long room as he walked to his desk. The lab ran the entire length of the compound with interconnecting chambers for the different departments.

His desk was right at the end. He usually savored walking through the collection of machines and cooling rooms, the racks boasting plants they were trying to grow outside. Tonight, it added to his frustration.

Stopping at one of the incubation chambers, he stared at the neat rows of bral sprouts. The info panel lit up.

“Atmosphere matches Kheros. Soil matches Kheros. Temperature and humidity controlled. It just doesn’t make sense…”

He reached his desk and dropped down on the chair, turning to the window to peer at the night sky. If he squinted, he could almost make himself believe he was back on Thryal, in his old lab, where the whole of his home planet wasn’t relying on him to make this work.

Still homesick, he pulled up some pictures of the Pnitaan Forest, near where he grew up. The vibrant colors soothed him. A picture of a pnittee popped up, and he huffed a laugh.

The tiny animals were adorable. Rodent-like with long fur and big eyes, they were some of the fiercest predators in the forest. Being bit by one was signing a death warrant. They were also incredibly strategic, their brains taking up half the size of their cute but deadly bodies.

Another picture popped up, depicting an impossibly tall tree. Rylan zoomed in, finding a baby breu clinging to its father. They were incredible, their bodies covered in sleek fur with tufts of vibrant feathers springing from their foreheads. On the other end of the scale from the pnittees, these mammals were so dense and slow that conservationists had to work full time to keep them alive.

“This is what I’m working to save,” he said softly. “Murderous little critters and majestic tree dwellers.”

He sighed, closing the tab and sitting in the darkness. He’d been at the Kheros compound for almost two years. In the beginning, every day was exciting. His small team had lived in a makeshift homestead while they built the compound that he was now in. Camaraderie was high, and the progress they made every day was tangible.

Back then, anything seemed possible. They’d successfully recreated Kheros’s atmosphere in their labs on Thryal, and the plants were thriving. Of course, they’d expected setbacks, but the level of failure that now stared him in the face was stifling.

His train of thought led him to the “precious cargo” that Stiya was bringing back. His excitement for fresh produce and new seedlings had faded to the dread of welcoming Prince Arccoo’s sister-in-law.

Curious, he pulled up the news articles that had circulated when Prince Arccoo married his human bride. The picture was grainy, but he could make out Princess Carmen’s sisters. Was it the tall one with the crazy look in her eyes?

No. He smiled to himself. The graininess of the picture couldn’t hide the inquisitive blue-eyed stare of Carmen’s youngest sister. Elena, the article said.

What would she be like, he wondered? He studied her. Petite, posture slightly hunched as if she hated the attention. Her hair fell in waves over her shoulders. Rylan stared at the color, so unlike any he’d seen before. The reddish-brown hue was imbued with lighter strands that reflected the tiny globe lights of the palace ballroom.

Rylan scrolled through the rest of the wedding photos, trying to find the elusive Elena in the background of each. In one, she was standing in the corner of the ballroom looking uncomfortable. In another, he recognized the lead royal engineer. The man looked practically exasperated, a few shots showing what looked like Elena asking a million questions.

The lights in the lab flicked off when the sensors had not detected movement in several minutes, and Rylan jumped. He guiltily closed the tab he’d been looking at.

“It’s just recon,” he assured himself. “Always good to know what to expect.”

His voice echoed in the empty lab, and he laughed at himself. What a loon.

Later, back in his room, he finally fell into a fitful sleep. When he woke, he would adamantly deny that his dreams were consumed by curious blue eyes and waves of chestnut hair.