Page 60 of Alien Wants A Wife

Thinking about yesterday sends a wave of mixed emotions through me. Our time together hiding in the hollow tree had been exhilarating. What came after with Chloe, less so.

I glance behind me to where Roan is, the tunnel being too narrow for us to walk side by side. He tips his head in a questioning gesture, and I smile but don’t say anything. The stonewalls so close make even the smallest sounds echo, and I don’t want to thank him for playing Catch and Kiss with me within earshot of Lydia and Killan.

Not to mention the cameras. Because of course there are cameras in the tunnel. Mr. Smith didn’t task us with a farm tourand not prepare for filming. Maybe he’s hoping to record today some of the things Roan and I did privately together yesterday.

“Our Nufaral farm is the largest of its type in the known universe,” Killan says, heedless of the echo. He glances back at us three following him, and there isn’t the usual shadow of grumpiness over his face. He looks almost animated, as if he’s genuinely excited to be showing off his farm. “The cave ahead houses the first of the lakes our family adapted for Nufaral harvesting. It is also the smallest lake and now used solely as the nursery from which the other, larger lakes are seeded.”

Before I can ask what anursery lakeis, we reach the end of the tunnel. It opens onto another cave. The walls, floor and ceiling are all black rock, something I’d hardly been aware of in the forest cavern, but which is the star of the show in this cave. There are a few lights set into the roof, but none of them are large enough to illuminate the entire cave, meaning shadows dance over the walls.

Enormous stalactites appear to pierce through the ceiling, reaching down ten… fifteen feet, like teeth in a giant’s mouth. They’re black, like the rock, and their pointed ends are decorated with delicate waterdrops that hang suspended over a large lake.

The four of us are standing on a metal grate that curves around the inner cave wall, a bare few inches above the lake’s surface. The entire cave floor is lake, and the water’s so dark it’s impossible to judge how deep it goes.

As we stand there, staring, one of the stalactites finally releases its waterdrop, and I swear I hear it hitting the lake, breaking the surface tension and sending ripples cascading outwards. Thanks to the overhead lights and their resulting shadows, the ripples of the lake are reflected on the walls and ceiling, until it feels as if the cave itself is alive and moving.

“Holy shit,” Lydia breathes, and I’ve got to agree with her.

“This is your smallest lake?” I ask.

“Yes.” There’s no disguising the smugness in Killan’s tone. “I will show you.” And he leads us down another tunnel, into another lake cave, this one twice as large—or even larger still.

“The lakes run in an approximate line,” he explains, “from here, down south to Sorin’s cottage. It would take more than a day of walking to reach the ninth lake, which is why we have the cart track, which runs parallel to the lakes, connecting the two houses.”

“Sorin looks after the lakes closest to his place, and you two care for these lakes?” I ask, glance between Killan and Roan.

Roan nods, opens his mouth to answer, but Killan speaks first. “Roan does most of the day-to-day work at the end. I help with seeding and harvesting, but the majority of my time I spend running the business-side of our operation.”

“And the charity?

“What charity?” Lydia frowns, shadows flickering over her face, turning her pink hair eerily green.

“We donate Nufaral to medical centers on Ril I for those who cannot afford it themselves,” Roan says, finally getting a word in around Killan.

“Because…?” Lydia prompts.

“Because it contains an important vitamin responsible for increasing our intestinal absorption of other important elements.” The expression that flashes across Killan’s face is something like anguish, but it’s gone too fast for me to get a proper look.

He doesn’t mention his sister. Nor does Roan, so I don’t say anything either. It isn’t my place to talk about their grief.

“We seed the eight harvesting lakes at the same time so the algae matures in sync,” Killan continues, in a not-so-subtle attempt at a conversation change. “We are approximately fifty days out from our next harvest. The drying process?—”

“Sorry,” I interrupt. “There’s Nufaral algae in the water now?” I crouch, squinting into the water, but I can’t see anything but shadows and reflections.

“There is,” Killan answers, but it’s Roan who beats him to the pole that’s resting against the cave wall beside the tunnel we’d entered through. And it’s Roan who sweeps the pole through the dark water. It reminds me of a telescopic pole you’d use to clean leaves out of a swimming pool, but instead of a net at the far end, it’s got a hook.

Roan uses said hook to scoop up a stringy clump of algae, which he presents to me. It’s slimy to the touch, dark emerald in color and looks a bit like hundreds of fine embroidery threads all tangled together.

“The process reminds me of my sourdough starter,” Lydia says, sniffing the algae in my hand but not touching it. “When I want to make bread, I add some of my starter to my dough, and the yeast multiplies, feeding on the flour and water. You’re doing the same with your algae—adding some of your starter from the seed lake to the other lakes so it multiplies. What does it eat? It’s green, so does that mean it’s photosynthesizing?” She glances up at the stalactites covering the ceiling, clearly indicating the complete and utter lack of sunlight. She’s right: these caves have a different feel to them than the forest cavern, which is open to the sky.

“Primarily, they feed on the nutrient which the water leeches out of the rock.” Killan reaches out a hand, catching a falling waterdrop as it plummets from the tip of a stalactite toward the lake’s surface. It’s black, the same dark color as the rock. “And we supplement those nutrients with sunlight bulbs,” he adds, pointing to the closest light.

“Supplemented with sunlight. So sunlight isn’t its primary energy source,” Lydia asks.

Killan answers, but I don’t hear what he says. Instead, I take a step closer to Roan, muttering, “Are you seeing what I’m seeing? They’re finally agreeing on something.”

Roan shakes his head. “I never thought this day would come.”

“Perhaps pigs can fly!”

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