Page 8 of Uprooted
Bri and I spend the next few weeks going through training modules. The cumulative effect of seeing all the rules at once is starting to irritate Bri. She huffs as she swipes through the course on the financial responsibility of the “enrollee” to cover any equipment they damage. I'm not worried. I have a perfect record with lab supplies. I've never even broken a beaker.
She lets out a loud gasp when she realizes we won't be able to leave the muradome the entire time we are there. I'm not as bothered by the rules. I like rules. They let me know exactly what is expected. I chalk up the strict protocols to diplomatic overreach. A lot is riding on this alliance.
Bri pauses our module on planetary safety after it covers fire hazards.
“Seriously? No fire? At all?!” she pouts.
“There’s a high risk of fire because of the extra hydrogen in the atmosphere. The smallest spark could be catastrophic.” Maybe if she knows the reason the rule is there, she won’t be so bummed. “Don’t worry—we’ll improvise some birthday candles for you.” I rib her a little, hoping to cheer her up.
“Well, what am I supposed to do with my flamethrower?” She bites her bottom lip, holding back a smile. It seems the reality of being so far from home and on a different planet is starting to set in.
From what I can tell, Hycea 34, or j'Tilak, is not that different from Earth, minus the way we’ve devastated our natural resources and brought about our own doom. The customs and social norms aren’tthat different. I’m grateful. I’ve been to places with really strange gender roles and rigid economic status conventions, and places where the weather is so extreme that survival requires specialized equipment.
Hycean planets are my favorites to visit. Their environments are most like Earth’s, sometimes even better. On j'Tilak, their environment, proximity to their two primary suns, and size encourage a thriving, biologically diverse, and vibrant ecosystem.
The drastic differences between regions make the species on Hycea 34 extremely diverse. I’ll be stationed at MuraDome IV on the continent pt’Clanik, which is milder and more temperate than some of the others. All the images I’ve seen of pt’Clanik make it look like an ideal pastoral painting from centuries ago. Rolling hills, bright blue sky—none of the scars from an industrial revolution that went too far. Hycea 34 is the Goldilocks of worlds. Not too hot, not too cold. Not too big, not too small. Just right.
After we finish our modules each day, I spend the few remaining hours preparing with Dr. Kahn so we can start our research as soon as we get there. The clock is ticking on Earth’s unstable food supply. For centuries, we’ve been trying to save our pollinators. For the first time we might actually have a solution. If we can figure out how to recreate the pollination process from Hycea 34 and make it work on Earth, we could save millions of lives.
When I’m not working, I torment Bri with everything I know about the flora on Hycea 34. I particularly like torturing her with plant facts during dinner.
“Vegetation has hypermobility there,” I tell her. “Plants and trees can uproot themselves, seek out sunlight, nutrients, hydration, pollinators—whatever they need to ensure survival. Each plant emits a signature electrical pulse that’s received by any compatible plant in the surrounding area.” I look up from my noodles at her deadpan face and continue with a smile. “Over the centuries, crops have evolved to rely more heavily on cross-pollination. Wheat used to be able to self-pollinate, but now we use pollinator bots to get them to germinate.”
“Please don’t make me regret being your friend,” she says. I’ve quickly learned Bri prefers not to discuss work outside of business hours.
“Well, I’m your only friend at this point, so you don’t have much choice.”
“I don’t hold you hostage and talk about genome sequencing.” Bri levels me with an accusatory stare.
“That’s because we both know that genetics is boring.”
“Hilarious.” She glowers at me.
“Thank you!” I place my hand on my chest, dramatically accepting her insincere compliment.
“Do you see me laughing?” she asks.
“I think you’re laughing on the inside.” I give her a squinty smile and she rolls her eyes.
“Okay, I think we’re done here,” she says standing up. I rush to keep up with her as she walks down the narrow hallway towards her room.
“You know what's not boring?” I ask.
“Wait—is this the setup for a joke?” Bri asks, eyeing me skeptically.
“Nope! Did you know that oak trees use mycorrhizal networks of fungi to share resources and information about the environment? On Hycea 34, plant life’s ability to uproot and move is what makes this place so unique.” I continue my monologue, just to annoy her a little bit more.
“What do you think the locals are like on j’Tilak?” She changes the subject the moment I stop for a breath.
“Big, blue, and extremely suspicious of humans,” I say. We just finished our sensitivity training on the complicated political situation between Earth and Hycea 34. The ink on the Apollo Treaty is hardly dry and our research team will be the first to arrive. It's up to us to assimilate and reassure everyone we can peacefully coexist. A lot is hanging on this arrangement.
“Oh, believe me—I know what they look like. The Tilak men are smoking hot. I’m just wondering how welcoming they will be,” Bri says.
Bri’s comment takes me back to the treaty signing. They stayed mostly to themselves. The Earth delegation ended up touring them around and hosting state dinners to build a strong relationship. When I saw them, the Tilak were all standoffish and quiet. The most cynical of the media tried to blame their distance on a general mistrust. One thingthat drives me crazy about humans: they are always so quick to think the worst.
“Bri, ask me how long a day is on Hycea 34,” I say. On a shuttle with not much to do, annoying Bri has quickly become my favorite hobby.
“No, I don’t think I will.”
