Page 29 of Secretly Abducted
The storm tore through Section C with particular violence, uprooting entire clusters that were decades old. I've been working since I came back from returning Alex, cutting away dead growth, checking holdfasts, trying to salvage what I can. The water is still murky with disturbed sediment, visibility poor, which makes the work slower and more difficult.
My hands are raw from handling the rough stalks, water stinging the small cuts along my palms. Each dive takes me deeper into the tangle of destruction—what was once a carefully cultivated forest now resembles a battlefield. Massive fronds drift like ghosts in the current, their holdfasts torn clean from the sea floor, leaving gouges in the sandy bottom that will take seasons to heal.
I surface for the twentieth time this morning, arms full of damaged fronds that need to be cleared. The physical labor is good. It keeps my mind occupied, stops me from thinking about warm skin pressed against mine, about fingers tracing along fabric, about a voice rough with sleep suggesting things that made my entire nervous system light up in panic.
The debris pile on my harvest platform grows with each trip. Brown, brittle zhik'ra that weeks ago was healthy green. I sort methodically—compostable material in one pile, diseased growth that needs disposal in another. My movements are automatic, practiced, soothing in their familiarity.
A school of silver swimmers darts past, their bioluminescence flickering in distress patterns. The storm has displaced everything, disrupted the careful balance of the ecosystem. I watch them spiral away toward deeper water, seeking stability in the currents that won't come for days.
I dive again, deeper this time, my gills filtering the murky water as I focus on a particularly tangled section. The zhik'ra here is knotted beyond saving—I'll have to cut it all away and replant. My harvesting blade slices through the thick stalks, each cut releasing a cloud of disturbed sediment. Months of work destroyed in one storm. But that's the nature of cultivation. Things grow, things die, you start again.
Alone.
Always alone.
Which is what I wanted. What I chose. What's safe.
When I surface, the sun has climbed higher, its heat already making the water uncomfortable for extended work. I pull myself onto the platform, water streaming from my body, and immediately notice movement on the main walkway. Someone is approaching my section—their gait unsteady on the bobbing platform, definitely not used to aquatic agriculture.
My bioluminescence flares with treacherous hope before I can control it.
"Vel'aan."
It's Kav'eth. Councilor Kav'eth, in his formal robes despite the agricultural setting, looking ridiculously out of place among the storm debris. The platform dips under his weight as he steps carefully around a pile of rotting zhik'ra, his nose wrinkling at the smell.
"Councilor." I bow appropriately, water still dripping from my hair, trying to hide my disappointment. The formal gesture feels strange when I'm half-naked and covered in sea foam. "Is something wrong?"
"I wanted to check on you." He settles onto a dry section of platform with careful dignity, arranging his robes to avoid the wet patches. "After yesterday's... revelations."
His patterns shift to something that might be concern, though with Kav'eth it's always hard to tell if emotion is genuine or political.
"I'm fine," I say, returning to my sorting. The rhythmic motion of separating usable from waste gives my hands something to do. "There's significant storm damage to address."
"So I see." He watches me work, golden eyes taking in the extent of the destruction. A piece of zhik'ra slips from my grip, splashing back into the water, and I have to dive to retrieve it. When I surface, he's still watching. "That was quite an emotional encounter yesterday. With the human."
My hands still on a particularly stubborn piece of kelp-like growth. "Yes."
"He seemed very grateful."
"Yes." I keep my voice neutral, but my bioluminescence betrays me with quick pulses of gold.
"Very... intense."
I look up at him, noting the careful way he's studying my reactions. "Did you need something specific, Councilor?"
"Just checking on your wellbeing. It's not every day someone learns they accidentally saved a life instead of damaging it."
I dive again, letting the cool water wash away the heat climbing up my neck. Down here, surrounded by the gentle sway of damaged zhik'ra, I can pretend the conversation isn't happening. But I can't stay under forever.
When I surface again, Kav'eth is still there, apparently prepared to wait me out. His robes have dampened from the spray, making him look less dignified and more determined.
"You're not going to leave, are you?" I ask, pulling myself back onto the platform.
"Not yet. The Council is concerned about your adjustment to these new circumstances."
I squeeze water from my hair, the droplets spattering the platform between us. "There's nothing to adjust to. The human expressed his gratitude. The matter is concluded."
"Is it?" Kav'eth tilts his head, and his patterns shift to something almost amused. "He seemed quite determined to maintain contact."
