Page 39 of Alien on the Moon

He puzzled at it for hours before dragging himself away to grab dinner. He would be of no help to anyone if he ran himself into the ground.

The cafeteria was strangely quiet and sedate. Usually, it was full of friendly chatter, but it seemed as though everyone sensed that the end of the project was coming soon, and they had failed to make it work.

“Sir,” Kyn said, sitting down across from him. “Is it true? Are they ending the program?”

“Only if we fail to fix our problems. The prince has kindly granted us more time, but…” He took a bite of his kallar sandwich and sighed. “Try not to spread this around, okay? Morale is low enough as it is.”

She shook her head, a determined look crossing her features. “You said we had one more shot at this, so you need to make that clear to everyone because we all still believe in this project. We want it to succeed, and knowing we still have a chance will give us enough hope to continue.”

“Would you want it even if it’s false hope?” He sighed. “I understand what you’re saying, but I’m also trying to be realistic. Isn’t it insanity to try doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results?”

She smirked. “Not insanity. It’s science. Isn’t the whole point that we repeat experiments to make sure that we have the right answer?”

He opened his mouth to retort but then closed it. She had a point. Didn’t she? The whole job of a scientist was to hypothesize, collect data, and then synthesize it and repeat until they were sure the results were correct.

“Just try telling that to the royal council,” he muttered.

She inclined her head, conceding the point. “I still think it would be best if you were straightforward with everyone. Just tell them that the fate of the project is not yet decided, so we still have time to solve it.”

“I’ll think about it. Like I said, I don’t want to give false hope.”

“False hope is better than no hope at all.” She collected her tray. “If anyone asks me, I’ll tell them what you said, but we both know it’s better if you get ahead of this.”

With a sigh, he finished his meal and headed back to his office to write the base-wide memo. Sitting at his desk, he typed, deleted, and then retyped his message, struggling to put this situation into words. Finally, he came up with this:

Everyone,

Rumors have been going around about the project being canceled. This is not yet true. While Prince Arccoo has delivered an ultimatum on behalf of the royal council, he has also graciously given us one last chance to provide results. Do not give up or give in to despair. We still have time, and we can still pull this off. I believe in every one of you.

Rylan

He sent it out and then decided to take his own advice by focusing once more on the soil test results. After reaching dead end after frustrating dead end, though, he decided to go tobed. Before hitting the showers, though, he peered into the lab through the window.

Elena sat there furiously typing into her comms. She had to be just as exhausted as he was, so he typed her a quick message:Remember Eureka.It was their code word to get the other person to take a break.

A look of anger flickered across her face as she read it. That was new. Usually, she would smile affectionately if he sent her a silly message or picture. Instead, she shut down her comms and fled the room.

So much for that peace offering.

If he was being honest, he wasn’t sure what she expected him to do. He sensed an underlying reason for her being upset, but he couldn’t even begin to make sense of it. Why was she being so stubborn?

For a time, he thought he understood humans, but now, it seemed as though he’d never understood her at all. What did he do wrong?

At least she still respected him enough to take his advice. She left the lab, presumably to shower and go to bed. Instead of dwelling on her capriciousness, he decided to do the same.

He lay in bed, tossing and turning, his mind full of theories and frustrations. Why were humans so confusing? Why were thingsfalling apart, both in the project and his love life? And why were the squigs dying?

After about three hours, he gave up on sleep and dragged himself out of bed. If he wasn’t going to rest, he might as well take some more samples of the plants and the squigs.

He didn’t bother with an envirosuit, instead just walking right out with his boots on and testers in hand. The planting field reeked of whatever infection the squigs had, and the gelatinous goo covered everything in sight. Regretting forgoing the envirosuit, he squatted and felt the yellow-green leaves of the bral and vreben.

Strange.

Usually, blighted leaves would be brown and crunchy at the end, but even though these were yellow like they had an infection, the leaves themselves were supple. They had been focusing on the soil and squigs and avoiding taking samples of the plants themselves out of fear of damaging them when they were already so delicate, but maybe that was the wrong course of action.

He took a sample of both plant species from every row before checking the soil’s nitrogen levels. Somehow, it was even healthier than the last readings. So why did the plants droop and turn yellow? By all rights, they and the squigs should be thriving.

“What is wrong with you?” he muttered, rubbing a leaf between his thumb and forefinger. He half expected it to crumble to dust, but it stayed soft and strong.

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