Page 12 of My Alien Bughead (Supernova Casanovas #4)
Chapter 12
Lucía
I ignore the soft growl coming from behind me as Astra and I follow the Serramorph leader toward the waterfall and cave hiding behind it. D’Aakh can go fly a kite. He’s been hostile toward me from the moment we met and now he wants to play protector? Ridiculous.
Shaking off all thoughts of him, I try to focus on the current mission. Exploring a creepy insect lair in the inner bowels of a spaceship. Sounds like something out of a horror movie.
Our surroundings don’t look anything like a horror movie, though. We’re walking on soft, rich green grass that’s peppered with colorful flowers. The waterfall rushes and thunders, disturbing the surface of the water underneath. Small waves gently ripple and splash against the otherwise smooth edges of the meticulously crafted basin the Serramorphs have somehow welded together and embedded into the floor.
The many saplings and shrubs scattered around the room in various hand-crafted planters will need weeks or maybe months to grow to full height. Regardless, the place already resembles a planet’s surface so well I find myself hit with a wave of longing I never realized was in me. When was the last time I saw something this lush and green that wasn’t algae growing in the sewage reclamation system?
Larger, more populated space stations have artificial habitats like this. Hydroponic gardens, biospheres, entirely green community spaces. But Alevvo is a tiny mining burrow with little more than basic infrastructure. We don’t even have merchants or traders coming here. Most of the stalls and shops in the marketplace are run by the spouses of onsite FrenCorp personnel as a side gig, like Zhuse’s bakery.
To have a beautiful place like this on the station… People would pay a fortune to visit it and D’Aakh, the stupid bughead, wants to dismantle it? Over my dead body.
“It’s beautiful,” Astra sighs, as captivated by the scenery as I am. “The grass, the trees…it almost makes me forget I’m on a spaceship. Even the lights feel like a real sun, if that makes sense.”
“It does make sense and you’re right,” I agree, squinting up at the ceiling. Noticing the extra wiring circling the lights up there, I add, “I think they changed the frequency of the ion sphere arrays to imitate the star of their home planet. It must be similar to our Sun.”
Astra grins. “Are you telling me we can catch some rays in here?” Jumping out of the way to avoid accidentally stepping on Cricket’s leg, she veers toward the tiny lake. Up close I’m starting to think it’s more of a pool than a lake, no more than thirty feet across in any direction with a clear view to the bottom. However, with the waterfall splashing down from the craggy, albeit artificial, rock formation, it just feels larger and more organic than a purpose built pool in some insect-made garden.
Before I can stop her, Astra sticks her hand into the water and moans. “Oooh, warm. Do you think they’ll let us go for a swim?”
I yank her away from the lake and check her hand. “ Mierda , woman! It could have been a pool of acid, for all we know! You can’t just walk around touching things. The water could be contaminated or irradiated or have any number of chemicals added to it that won’t hurt the Serramorphs but could melt the skin off your hand.”
Astra rolls her eyes. “Relax, Lucía. It’s just water.” When I keep scowling at her, she huffs a sigh. “Fine, I won’t touch anything else. Jeez. You’re as bad as Tareq. I should probably be a little more careful, though, now that…” She trails off. The slightest caress she gives her abdomen has my eyebrows riding high on my forehead. That almost sounds like she is…
Noticing my expression, Astra winks. “Don’t tell anyone. Tareq doesn’t know yet. He’s going to go completely mental when I tell him, so I’ve been keeping it under wraps for now. At least until our doctor confirms I won’t lose it.”
“Wow. Oh. Okay.” It’s not often I’m left speechless but I had no idea we were even genetically compatible with aliens. Then again, Nala did mention her daughter was only half human, so I guess it’s possible. Astra is going to have an adorable half Syndoran baby. Wow. “Congratulations,” I manage, beaming at her until my thoughts run wild and my smile turns into a frown. “You really shouldn’t have come here with us. The Serramorphs might still turn out to be dangerous.”
“Nah.” Astra pets Cricket, who keeps skittering around her in circles, so close it’s a wonder she doesn’t trip over him. “I trust them. We have a history. A short one, but still.”
Shaking my head incredulously, I ask, “Is everyone on this ship crazy? Actually, don’t answer that. Let’s just go and see what the bugs are hiding. Hopefully, it’s not a human-sized barbecue grill.”
The cave entrance is so low I have to duck down to enter. Surprisingly, inside holds a spacious interior filled to the brim with machinery. Lights hang from the uneven ceilings here and there, illuminating the apparent chaos.
“Whoa.” Astra looks around with wide eyes. “You guys have been busy,” she tells Tink. “I’ve never been in a cave before but I expected something less…technical?”
“That’s because it’s not supposed to be a cave,” I say as I inspect our surroundings. “It’s a central hub. That,” I point out one of the few machines that is online, rumbling softly in the corner, “runs the waterfall. It’s both a pump and a complex water filtration system.” The design is completely alien, of course, but its purpose is kind of obvious.
Aside from the main pipe feeding the waterfall, several thinner hoses branch off the machine’s output, running to different locations throughout the improvised biosphere, probably providing water for the grass and the potted plants. It’s a simple system, yet brilliant.
“Uh-huh,” Astra says. “And the rest?”
Cautiously stepping toward the other machines, I keep one eye on Tink’s reaction. When the Serramorph leader doesn’t protest, I crouch down, shining my flashlight at the mess of cables, springs, and pipes surrounding a coffin-sized box of…something.
A minute later, I’m none the wiser. “I have no fucking clue what this is,” I admit.
Tink skitters closer, her pincers clicking across the metallic floor. Bracing myself, I stay motionless, even though in this position she towers over me and her deadly limbs are just inches away from my face. She chirps, extending a clawed arm toward me, then points further down the cave.
“She wants you to follow,” Cai translates, making me roll my eyes.
“You don’t say,” I quip, both Astra and I laughing as we follow Tink around the makeshift machinery. Another bulkhead has been removed here, opening the cave into what must have once been a workshop. A long workbench spans the width of the room, covered in spare parts and tools.
Tink climbs up onto a thigh-high plate that is conveniently welded to the side of the bench, no doubt to match Tink’s height with the height of the workbench. She points to the wall and I finally notice the drawings.
Astra leans in closer to look at the scribbles. “I take it these aren’t cave drawings or ‘Johnny loves Ginny’ graffiti?”
“Nope. They’re technical specs for all of the machines in this cave. Did you draw all of these?” I ask Tink, impressed at her obvious skills. Even though Cai said the Serramorphs are intelligent and their technical level is similar to that of us humans, it’s still difficult to wrap my head around a giant praying mantis creating detailed technical drawings.
“Yes,” Cai translates Tink’s response. “I think, draw, and build. Males collect and help build.”
“That’s…amazing.” I have no words. Some of the drawings are scratched into thin sheets of metal, clearly designed to be carried around, while other, larger ones, are etched into the walls of the workshop.
I finally recognize the machine’s purpose. “It’s environmental controls. Designed to maintain stable humidity and temperature in the biosphere. And this one…” I tilt my head as I try to make sense of the unfamiliar design. “I’m not sure. A heat box? Do you guys use it like a sauna or something?”
Tink clicks her mandibles. “No. It’s for youngling.” She follows our eyes as we look over to Cricket, then clicks again. “Not him. Our heart. See.”
Leading us toward a lowly whirring box, I see that it’s no more than four feet tall. As we approach, the lights on the control panel blink, then go out. With an angry hiss, Tink rushes over. She fiddles with the wiring for a few seconds until the lights come back online.
“Trouble,” she says, her head hung low. “Always trouble. Danger for the heart.”
“Cai, what does she mean by ‘the heart’?” I ask, confused. Are they keeping an actual organ in there or is it just a hitch in the translation?
Astra places her hands on the box, her expression solemn. “I’m no technician, but I think I can guess. May I?”
Tink looks nervous, but chirps her approval. “Look. No touch. No hurt, please.”
“Of course,” Astra says, her smile earnest. She pops the lid open an inch, her eyes widening a fraction as she looks inside. “Yep. Just as I expected.”
Curious, I move next to her and peek into the box as well. Inside, nestled in soft padding and surrounded by dozens of heating spools, is a round object. Through the somewhat transparent membrane covering it, I see something moving.
“An egg,” I say, stating the obvious. As if hearing my voice, the creature inside moves again, pressing its limbs against the membrane so hard it looks like it’s about to break. “Okay, we’re definitely in horror movie territory here.” A shiver crawls up my spine as I step away from the box. The incubator.
An alien egg about to hatch on a spaceship. Everyone on Earth has seen that movie. Everyone knows what’s about to happen.
Then the incubator display beeps out another angry sound and the machine dies again. Shrieking in what I assume is frustration and maybe a little despair, Tink attacks the mess of wiring again, trying to bring it back online, but nothing she does seems to work.
“Fuck,” I mutter under my breath even as I launch into action. Creepy alien egg or not, this is not a horror movie. This is a mother fighting for the life of her child, and I’ll be damned if I won’t do everything in my power to help.