Page 12 of Alien Haven

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.”

“Remember to 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 keptthe 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 the plants 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. HadSara 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.”

“Thanks. I like Clan Amgar.” She managed not to drawlpartnerafter speaking.

“Excellent bunch. None better.” He turned to yet another monitor apparently on the fritz.

Next came a Dramok in his late teens. He looked her over while wearing a shy grin but spoke politely as he worked on the third farm monitor having a bad day. “I want to have the biggest farm on Haven when I claim my plot. I’m learning all aspects of the work from the ground up.”

“Good luck.” He reminded Charity of the slightly younger Adam. Teenage humanoid boys were apparently a lot alike, no matter the species. Certainly their side glances at women and eagerness to impress them were the same.

She found her final lunch recipient doing what was quickly becoming apparent was the main job of fieldhands: working on faulty farm monitors. “Do any of these contraptions work right?”

The Nobek she addressed appeared to be Ilid’s age, early to mid-twenties. The lack of more than a couple scars on his chest, exposed by the loose, long-sleeved shirt he wore, bore out her guess. His expression was remarkably reserved, allowing only a portion of the natural Nobek aura of contained danger to betray his breed…barely so.

He regarded her for a couple of beats before answering as he accepted the proffered covered lunch tray. “Field monitors workpretty much nonstop, day and night. Even if they aren’t breaking down, we have to do constant maintenance.”

He didn’t tell her his name. His curt nod had served as the traditional bow of respect she’d grown used to receiving from Kalquorian men. He set the food tray aside and focused his attention on the monitor he was pulling apart. Charity observed he seemed to be cleaning the dirt-encrusted components.

“I’m…Jennifer Seng.”

“Are you sure?” He’d noted her hesitation but refused to glance up. Or maybe he was being extra diligent in his work. His intense stare on the machine had no room for distractions.

She felt a nudge of irritability at his lack of interest and her near-mistake of giving the name “Ashley Holloway,” which had been what she’d gone by at the university on Jedver. At least she hadn’t nearly outed herself as Charity Nath.

“Do you have a name? Or can I make one up for you? How about…Tex? Seeing as how we’re on Planet Farm Hell, it would fit.”

“Ah. You aren’t here by choice.” His lip twitched a notch, as if wanting to smile smugly.

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