Page 106 of Alien Haven

The idea of his parents having to cope with his ongoing overwhelming distress had sent Ilid into a greater blackness. A few weeks earlier, he’d attempted suicide rather than cause them further pain. The quick-acting hospital staff had kept him from succeeding, and his parents’ determination and love had lured him back into wanting to live. The trip to Haven, where safeguards had thus far thwarted the Darks’ infiltration efforts, was the latest effort to restore Ilid to emotional well-being.

It’s an escape though. I’m not facing my fears.

On board the shuttle taking him to Haven, he’d met Jennifer. She’d somehow made his hurts less in the three days he’d known her. She was a bright spot in an increasingly grim universe. It wasn’t just Diju’s eager matchmaking helping him consider a future with someone special.

Fertile Kalquorian women had become few, thanks to a deadly and often sterilizing virus. Kalquorian men had banded together in clans for several centuries, made up of three breeds: Dramok, Imdiko, and Nobek. Until recently, such a union had been the legal requirement to clan an increasingly rare female lifegiver, the celebrated and venerated Matara.

Earthers had changed everything. The numerous human women had been found to be compatible for carrying children fathered by Kalquorians, thanks to an ancient ancestor common to the two species.

Nowadays, a single Kalquorian man of any breed could clan, or marry, a human woman. Clanning of all the breeds continued to be a favored tradition among several, however. Prior to hisencounter with the Darks, Ilid hadn’t been able to conceive of heading anything but the typical four-person clan, though he was perfectly willing for his future Matara to be Earther.

The Darks had destroyed his hopes. Ilid’s damaged psyche had challenged his view of himself. How could he be a true clan leader…a real Dramok…when nightmares left him screaming? When he’d run from Kalquor to escape the continuing Dark threat hanging over it?

Meeting Jennifer had allowed some of his dream to reassert itself, despite his misgivings. She’d shown him he still wished to have someone to share his life with.

An Earther might not have the expectations of a Nobek and an Imdiko. Perhaps Ilid was Dramok enough for such a relationship. He wondered if a human woman could accept a less than perfect man if she didn’t know the extent of how badly he’d been broken.

* * * *

“I’m concerned the sudden appearance of a young Earther woman on Haven at the exact same time Charity Nath vanished from Alpha Space Station might raise suspicions.”

Charity paused nibbling her toast smothered in homemade blueberry jam to consider Sara’s worried comment. She nodded her agreement. “Never underestimate the fanaticism of Earthtiques. Even before coffee.Especiallybefore coffee.”

It was her and the lady of the manor, the kids having gone to school and the men to work. Charity had been allowed to sleep in after the excitement of arrival. She’d missed the breakfast rush, during which Clan Amgar’s dozen hired workers had also been fed.

Meals cooked by the incredible Utber and a paycheck. It sounded like a pretty great deal for the farmhands, Charity thought.

Sara chuckled, overtly banishing her concerns. “You’re probably not being watched so soon. Still, it wouldn’t hurt for you to be seen doing a few chores on the farm right away. We should establish your presence as a worker now, same as the rest of our ‘projects’ we’ve taken in.”

“Explain in very small words how I can avoid killing your crops. Remember, I don’t know a weed from a carrot.”

“Don’t worry; as far as anyone knows, you’ll be doing most your penance in and around the house rather than the fields.”

“I’m fine doing whatever you think is best.” Charity gobbled her toast and sucked down her coffee. “Point me where I need to be.”

“I’d appreciate you taking the hovercart to the west field and delivering lunches. It would be a good start to make you known as just another face here.”

* * * *

Even if Charity hadn’t been a talented plotter of the stars and therefore fully capable of finding the west field of the farm, the hovercart had a map app which told her exactly where she was headed. A third of the workers were working there, where a variety of beans, squashes, and corn were growing.

She was impressed by the vastness of the west field’s twenty-acre stretch and its seemingly endless mounds. The trio of edibles had been planted together: the corn supplied the tall stalks for the bean vines to climb, and the broad leaves of the squash varieties kept weeds at bay from both plants. Among them trundled a number of AI machines, which tested the soil, adjusted nutrients and water levels, and basically kept the farm producing well. The four workers assigned to the field kept an eye on the machines and were ready to respond to any maintenance issues or malfunctions. They also checked theplants themselves for anything the machines might somehow miss.

Charity could have ridden on the hovercart…Sara had told her most usually did because of the distances between the workers…but she was thrilled to stretch her legs under the balmy sunshine. Living on Alpha Space Station for a few weeks had reminded her to appreciate the joys of being on a planet. Alpha hadn’t been a small, cramped station, but walking its corridors and promenade didn’t feel as roomy as striding on a terrestrial world. Particularly one given mostly to farming.

“I still don’t want to be on Yeehaw Central,” Charity told the waving cornstalk leaves she passed on her way to the hired hands. “Don’t feel too smug I’m currently enjoying myself, Haven.”

Her first stop was near a human male she guessed to be in his sixties. Though his hair was iron gray, he was hale and greeted her with a strong handshake. “Gus Fremont,” he introduced himself. “I heard we’d see you around. Pleased to meet you, especially since you’re bringing lunch.”

Charity chuckled. “I’m glad someone’s happy to see me. Cranky machine?” She nodded to the yellow and black field monitor lying on the ground instead of floating among the plants. It was about the size of a German shepherd. Its myriad of nearly a dozen arms were flung wide on the rich brown soil, as if it had been killed in a shootout in a saloon.

“Yeah, it’s insisting stuff is ready to harvest. Caught it before it started picking, thank the prophets. Probably a bad sensor. Those go faster than anything else on these beasts.”

A little small talk, and Charity moved on. Gus hadn’t asked her what had brought her to Haven and the Amgar farm. Had Sara informed the fieldhands of her supposed indiscretion, or did he simply mind his own business?

“That’s a rare breed,” she snorted as she moved on.

Her next mouth to feed was a human who told her to call him Bud. A fitting nickname for Planet Farm Hell, but he too seemed nice. A rawboned man in his forties, he was pleasant, though not as smilingly so as Gus. “Found some trouble elsewhere? Don’t worry; we don’t mind young’uns who cut up a bit. You landed in the perfect place, miss.”

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