Page 8 of Alien on the Moon (Thryal Mates #3)

Rylan

Rylan smiled as he stared at the import form’s label of “Approved.” The squigs and other pollinating and soil-enriching insects were ready to be sent up from Thryal for introduction into the soil. Throughout the past few weeks, they had been composting the base’s food and waste, and now they had enough to make a tasty meal for their new arrivals.

Elena looked up from her workstation as he approached, her blue eyes bright. “Did you get it?”

“The squigs should get here by tomorrow. We can introduce them into the soil as soon as we’re sure they’re stable.”

“Yes!” She jumped to her feet and threw her arms around his shoulders. “You’ll see. This will all work out.”

Behind them, Jaku whistled, and Elena let go, embarrassed. Jaku was one of the researchers specializing in air composition and loved getting under people’s skin.

It took Rylan some time to realize it wasn’t personal. Aside from his work, which he took seriously, Jaku treated everything like a joke. He was nobility and seemed aware that an element of nepotism was at play in how he got the job, so he tried his best to put in good work, even if he was playing the role of the class clown during his off hours.

Rylan rolled his eyes. “Don’t you have work to do?”

He stretched back in his chair, resting his arms behind his head and smirking. “Don’t stop on my account. You guys are cute.”

“And you have a talent for ruining the moment,” Rylan retorted, resting his hand on Elena’s shoulder. She wasn’t ashamed of him. He knew that. But sometimes, with the way she grew tense and embarrassed when others pointed out that they were together, it was easy to forget.

After all, she was nobility, and he was a commoner. He’d made good money as a scientist, but all the money in the world couldn’t make up for that shortcoming, even if Elena said that kings and noble blood weren’t taken very seriously on Earth.

Some of the tension left her shoulders as she sighed. “Whatever, Jaku. Is the atmosphere ready to sustain small life forms?”

He scooted aside for Rylan and Elena to see the computer. “Everything is looking good so far. Those squigs are about to discover a literal whole new world of decadence.”

“Excellent.” Elena raised her hand in something the Earthlings called a high-five. After teaching it to some of the researchers, the practice had taken off in popularity, with members of the base at all levels striking the hands of one another to show approval.

Jaku returned the high-five with an enthusiasm that left Elena shaking her hand. Though she was initially nervous when engaging with scientists outside of Rylan, she had truly begun to flourish in the past few weeks, blossoming like a satcha flower as she gained confidence in herself and her wisdom. Rylan had loved to watch her grow.

Pushing up her glasses, she offered Rylan a soft smile. “We have a lot to do before our little buddies arrive. So, back to work?”

The next day, the first shipment of squigs arrived in conjunction with the rest of the base’s supplies. The zegs would come later, once they had plants to pollinate. This would be the smaller test case before they began the moon-wide project.

Rylan hefted the crate of squigs, pretending not to notice the way that Elena admired the muscles rippling in his arms and back. He enjoyed working out as a means of clearing his mind, but lately, he’d been reaping some unexpected fruits of his labors. Namely, Elena ogling him at every opportunity.

“Shall we?” he asked, nodding in the direction of the compost pile.

When they reached it, Elena coughed, wrinkling her nose. “Even with the oxygen mask, it still stinks.”

“Would you like to do the honors?” he set down the crate and stretched out the kinks in his muscles.

“Gladly.” She punched the code to open the box, and he tilted hundreds of squigs out and onto the field of rotting food and body waste. The squigs lay there for a moment, acclimating to the new environment before burrowing into the dirt. “Enjoy your meal,” she said to them. “And make us plenty of fertile soil.”

“You’re talking to them?”

She winked. “Everyone needs encouragement. Even on Earth, talking kindly to plants will help them grow better than yelling at them, though that could be more related to the noise and vibration than the actual words. The sentiment is there, though.”

Feeling a little ridiculous, Rylan cupped his hand around his mouth. “Eat this rotting food and shit out plenty of great dirt!” He turned to her. “How was that?”

She snickered, causing a strange lightness in his chest. He loved the sound of her laughter. More than that, though, he loved the sound when it was him making her laugh.

“Ten out of ten. No notes.” She hooked her arm around his. “Let’s head back to base. If we don’t go now, I don’t think I’ll ever get that smell out of my nose.”

He nodded, trying not to inhale too deeply. “Agreed.”

Elena was right. The squigs made quick work of the compost, transforming it into soil whose composition more closely resembled Thryal.

After about a month, they had planted the bral along with vreben, a bean-like crop that was known for adding nitrogen to the soil and was commonly grown alongside bral. Now, all they could do was wait and focus on revamping the system in other ways.

Taking a holistic view of terraforming made the initial process slower, but they were seeing results. The oxygen composition of the air had gone up, allowing them to breathe outside without their masks for short periods of time, and the increasing atmosphere allowed the temperature to stabilize, helping the plants to grow.

He and Elena had been working through all hours, sometimes even jumping out of bed in the middle of the night when they were hit with a sudden idea. When it came to self-care, it seemed that two workaholics were a recipe for disaster.

One morning, he woke to find Elena shivering in bed beside him. This was new. He knew humans shivered when they were cold, but he’d made sure that his bedroom was the ideal temperature for her.

So, why was she shivering? And if she was so cold, why was her body warmer to the touch than usual?

“Elena?” he whispered, shaking her.

She groaned, rolling over and forcing her eyes open. They looked glazed with misery. Then they widened in panic. “Trash can,” she said. “Now.”

He grabbed the wastebasket and handed it to her, only for her to regurgitate the previous night’s meal. Panic rose in him. Humans weren’t supposed to just vomit. “What’s wrong?”

She spat out the rest of it and wiped her mouth. “Flu, I think.”

“What flew?” Was she delirious? “Nothing’s flying in here.”

She shook her head and then screwed up her face as though it caused her physical pain. “No, f-l-u, flu. It’s a human disease, generally not serious, but seriously gross.”

At this, Rylan relaxed. Thryal illnesses rarely manifested like this, but it was apparently common for humans. “What does it entail?”

“Headaches, nausea, vomiting, diarrhea, fever, chills, and a sore throat. Speaking of…” She staggered out of the bed with his trash can still in her hands and tottered to the bathroom.

“I’ll get the base’s doctor,” he said from the other side of the door. “We’ll find a cure for this flu.”

“There isn’t really much you can do,” she replied after the sounds of retching died down. “Mostly just drinking a lot of fluids and resting. Sometimes, people need to be rehydrated intravenously, but that’s about it.”

She let out a groan. “Shit, the new composition samples. I was going to test them today.”

“It can wait until you’ve recovered. How long does it usually last?”

“Few days. A week at most. The worst is usually done after the first twenty-four hours.” She let out another awful retch.

“Will you be okay if I go to get the doctor?”

“Should be.”

After some research into Earth’s illnesses, Dr. Trox was able to confirm what Elena first thought. It was just a common Earth flu—miserable, but easily survivable for a healthy adult human like Elena.

“You don’t have to stay here. We both have a lot to do, and we don’t need two people behind on their work,” she said once Rylan had gotten her bundled back into bed. “Trust me. The flu is not something you want to be around.”

Sitting up, she tried to swing her legs out of bed. “Actually, I should just head back to my room. I don’t want to make your room all gross.”

He gently but firmly pushed her to lie back down. “My work can wait just as much as yours can. Let me take care of you until you’re feeling better.”

“Okay,” she grumbled. “But don’t complain if I get you sick. I tried to warn you.” She handed him the key to her room. “Can you grab me a hair tie and my toothbrush? I’m pretty sure I also stocked up on ginger ale from Earth, so a couple of cans of that would be nice, too. It’s in my homesick snack stash.”

He saluted. “Be right back.”

Finding the hair tie and the toothbrush didn’t pose any issues, but the cans of what she called ginger ale proved to be more of a challenge. A can, he knew, was made of metal, but there were several different cans with different labels and colors. And he had no idea how to read human writing.

Shit.

Just to be safe, he grabbed a can of each color, six in total. Then he carried them and the rest of the supplies she had asked for back to his room.

When he opened the door while laden with sick day supplies, she laughed at the number of cans in his arms. “I probably should have specified what ginger ale was, huh?”

“Yeah, that would have helped.” He set everything on his desk and handed her the hair tie. “Which one is it?”

“The dark green can,” she said, pointing to the one on the far end. “Thank you for looking after me.”

He handed her the drink. Pulling the tab open, she took a sip and set it on the bedside table. Then she took the hair tie and pulled her hair back.

“Let me,” he said, taking it. He ran his fingers through her soft, chestnut hair before braiding it and tying it off.

“How do you know how to do that?” she asked, lying back down, and getting comfortable once more.

“I used to braid my mother’s hair sometimes, mostly when she wasn’t feeling well and couldn’t braid it herself.” Even after all these years, the thought of those afternoons spent in her bedroom looking after her between homework assignments sent a pang of grief-tinted nostalgia through his chest.

“Was she ill?” Elena asked, studying her hands.

“A rare muscular degenerative illness. We did the best we could, but…” He trailed off, his meaning obvious. He hadn’t thought about his mother in years and couldn’t remember the last time he’d even spoken of her.

It was a painful subject, and he wasn’t good at navigating that. But with Elena, he felt as though he could open up to her.

“I lost my parents at a young age, too,” she said softly.

He picked up his head. He knew about her sisters, of course. Everyone did. But she’d never mentioned her parents before. He didn’t want to bring it up, instead assuming that it was a sore subject and that she would talk about it when she was ready.

“Illness?”

“Accident,” she replied. “One minute, I’m a kid with both parents. The next, I’m an orphan.”

“I’m sorry.”

She sniffled, putting on a brave smile. “It’s okay. Long in the past.”

“Who took care of you?”

“My sister, Carmen, practically raised me. She was still basically a kid herself, and she did everything she could to take care of us. We lived with our grandparents at first, but they weren’t always around. Sometimes, when I picture my parents, I don’t picture my mom and dad. I picture her.”

Reaching over, she grabbed the can of soda and took another sip. “I know people have their doubts about a human with their crown prince, but she’ll be an amazing queen someday.”

She sighed, her eyes glazing over, though he couldn’t tell if it was from sadness or fever. “I miss her. She always took care of me when I was sick.”

“I could call her if you want.” He was already reaching for his comms when she shook her head.

“No, I don’t want to bother her. She and Sofia are probably busy, and I know they’d drop everything and come as soon as you call.” Wiping her eyes, she shook her head. “Sorry. Fevers make me weepy and emotional. Like getting drunk and hungover at the same time.”

“Can I do anything to help you feel better?”

She yawned. “No, you’re doing a great job taking care of me. Just stay until I fall asleep and make sure a trash can is nearby in case I need to throw up again.”

“I’ll do you one better,” he said, getting in bed with her.

“No, I’m gonna get you sick, too,” she mumbled, but she was already clinging to him like a child.

“It’s a risk I’m willing to take. What’s your favorite streamshow?”

She yawned again and snuggled in closer. “I haven’t had much time for Thryal shows. Do you have any you recommend?”

Rylan absently pressed a kiss to the top of her head as he thought. What did he watch when he was sick and staying home from school? Not much. He mostly slept.

But his mother loved her stream shows. It was a way for her to escape the pain for just a little bit. And he would watch with her during those long afternoons.

The streamshow she liked best was about a group of terraformers on a bizarre planet full of mysteries and adventures. It had inspired him to become a terraformer, and watching it always filled him with a warm nostalgia.

He called up the streamshow on his comms. “This was my mother’s favorite. We used to spend afternoons watching it together and daydreaming about terraforming strange planets. What do you think?”

She rested her head against his chest. “It sounds perfect.”

Pressing play, he kissed the crown of her head again as they both settled in to watch the streamshow. Elena managed to stay awake for the first three episodes before falling asleep in the middle of the fourth.

Soothed by the steady rhythm of her breath and the warmth of her body, Rylan felt his eyelids droop. Shutting off the comm pad, he joined her in slumber.