Page 3 of An Alien for the Farm

“As it is,” Xarion responds over his shoulder. “There are crops also. Whether you wish to maintain it as a farm is up to you, but your crops would provide you with good income if you decide to grow and sell them.”

“What type of crops?”

“There’s a maize that is eaten by most species living on this part of Hudo III. There are also fruits and grass-feed for animals like the oogas here.”

“Right.” I close my eyes briefly.

That doesn’t sound too bad, does it? I knew this wasn’t going to be a walk in the park, but a part of me was still imagining growing flowers and drinking tea on the porch as I watched the sunset.

“Maybe I could grow flowers and sell them?” I don’t even disguise the hope in my voice. “I used to garden back at my house on Earth. Well, a little more than gardening. My degree is in, was in, horticulture. I used to even teach it. My garden was like a little paradise. But that was before…” I clear my throat. This isn’t a part of my life I really talk about, but Xarion already knows everything. He must have seen my file. The one that has all the information about me, my past, and everything that happened since the abduction, too. He knows I’m divorced. It’s one reason they accepted me into the program. And still, I can’t seem to shut up. “Well, before my ex-husband took everything I had and destroyed everything I thought my life would be. And then…” I sigh. “Then there were the Isclits and the Tasqals. The Restitution helped us and I ended up on a refugee ship when the Tasqals attacked their base. It’s all fuzzy now and I haven’t had a chance to do any gardening since Earth, but I’m sure I still have my green thumb.”

“Hmm,” Xarion hums low in his throat. “Green thumbs are a sign of rot in humans, is it not?”

I chuckle. “It’s just a phrase.”

“Understood.” He faces ahead again but says nothing else. Considering my long spiel, I suddenly feel like a fool for telling him my life story. For the next few hours, I keep my mouth shut, because, clearly, I’ve had no one to talk to in so long that I’m willing to tell all my secrets at the barest sign of friendliness. Back on the refugee ship, it was so hard making friends with anyone that this wasn’t a problem. I was forced into loneliness even though I was surrounded by other creatures.

Turning my gaze forward, I take in another breath of fresh air. The air out here is so clean, so clear. It feels like I’m feeding my brain with each inhalation. When a structure appears in the distance, I perk up, sitting straighter as I peer ahead.

“Is that…”

“Your homestead? Yes, it is.” Xarion hums a tone underneath his breath and the oogas go into a trot.

I stare at his back, wondering why he didn’t do that from the start. We could have probably cut the time in half. But I realize shortly after why we didn’t dash across the plains on running oogas. In about two minutes, the ooga in front of mine lifts its short tail and releases a cloud of yellow gas. I cough, covering my nose a moment too late because I still catch a whiff in the wind. This is just as my ooga vibrates beneath me and I hear it fart too.

Okay, so don’t make the oogas run. Got it.

As Xarion leads the animals past what looks like a broken-down fence and into an overgrown yard, I get my first glimpse of the place I will call home for the rest of my life.

I wasn’t expecting much, and at first glance, the homestead looks run-down and dilapidated. But as I squint through the harsh sunlight, I can make out the solid bones of the place beneath the neglect.

The main house looks like a quaint little cottage built from sturdy stone, the walls still standing firm despite cracked windows and a sagging roof. Outbuildings that were most likely once a barn and stables spread out behind it. The landscape beyond is a wide open prairie, the waving grasses stretching out as far as my eyes can see. And, just like Xarion said, I can spot several oogas and some tall animals that must be tilgrans off in the field. This place has good bones, I think. It just needs some tender loving care to bring it back to life. Just like I do.

My lips stretch in a soft smile. We can do it together, me and this place. Work on myself while I work on it.

A spark of pride flickers inside me at the thought of restoring this place to its former glory with my own two hands, and I sit higher on the ooga, taking in a deep breath. Sure, I’m starting over with just the clothes on my back. But I’ve survived an abduction from Earth, a galactic war, refugee ships, and the long journey here. If I could endure all that, I can certainly rebuild one little homestead.

“Shall we proceed?” For the first time, I catch a note of uncertainty in Xarion’s tone, as if he’s not convinced I’ll stay here. His long ears fold forward as his big red eyes watch me.

I didn’t realize I had a choice in this. Thought he was just leaving me here on my own with no say from me. After all, I’ve already signed the papers—a digital fingerprint that secured my place in the Initiative and said that, yes, I want to do this. I give Xarion a big grin and his shoulders relax, his ears perking up.

“Your communication device is inside. I already had it set up for your arrival. I also made sure clean water and waste removal are both operational. There is fresh food to last you for several sols and credits have been deposited into your account to buy what you may need to start life here. If you require assistance,” his gaze skips around the yard, “there are many Raki who do work for hire. You can use the communication device to put up a job post, if you desire. I have already loaded your native language onto the system.”

I nod, giving him another smile despite the nerves rising within me. Excited nerves. He continues talking as he watches me dismount not-so-gracefully.

“Policy states that I must remain until you give me the go-ahead to leave. This is usually after you have examined the estate for yourself and find it suitable to remain.”

“Oh, okay.” I give him another smile as I take my first steps toward my new home.

“Are there any other estates close to this one?”

Xarion blinks before looking over his shoulder and pointing down the dusty road. “There are several others that way, but I can assure you that they are in the same state of disrepair. The New Horizons Initiative is a repopulation effort. None of the estates are in great form.”

I release a soft laugh as I reach the house and I stretch my hand to touch the stone pillars at the porch. “Don’t worry, Xarion. I’m not having second thoughts.”

I can tell, even without looking over my shoulder, that his shoulders sag again with relief.

As I press my hand against the stone, I release a breath as I step onto the porch and push the door open. It opens without a creak, telling me that Xarion must have fixed it or installed a new one. Taking another deep breath, I step into what will be the next chapter of my life.

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