Chapter Text
Rocky had been deeply offended by the fact he had to go to work that morning. Grace had listened to him complain through his breakfast, all five legs tapping out his irritation. Adrian sat beside him patiently as she had heard these many times before.
“Rocky can stay with Grace and Adrian,” Rocky had insisted.
“You have work,” Adrian said.
“Stupid work.”
“Necessary work.”
“Stupid necessary work.”
I had nearly choked on my breakfast laughing. Rocky had gone eventually, but he had done it like he was a martyr being sent back into space instead of a respected engineer being asked to attend a meeting.
Now, several hours later, I sat on my beach with my back against Adrian’s side and the warm sand pressed under my palms. I had just gotten done nearly giving Adrian a heart attack because I dared take a swim in the temperature controlled ocean.
“Humans cannot breathe underwater,” she said, as if I did not already know that. She always did.
“Humans can swim,” I countered.
She did not try to stop me again. The warm water was like heaven on my sore joints. The break from 2gs felt amazing. I swam slow, lazy laps and made sure to stay within Adrian’s hearing range. Large bodies of water muffled sound waves enough that the Eridian’s echolocation was dampened. Other materials did the same thing. The outer shell of my biodome, for example. Eridian homes used similar materials for privacy.
When I tired myself out, I got out of the water and dried off. I purposefully shook my hair dry near Adrian so that water splashed onto her suit.
Adrian made a light scolding chord. “Grace is like an Earth puppy.”
I chuckled. “Bark,” I said before cuddling into her side.
It was still strange sometimes, being this comfortable with her. When Rocky and I first got to Erid, neither of us had been what anyone would call functional. Rocky hated when I said that. He preferred “temporarily diminished.”
He really had been diminished, though. Eridians grew throughout their lives by absorbing minerals from the world around them, which was one of those facts that made perfect sense once someone explained it to me. Rocky, however, had spent decades away from Erid with no proper mineral exposure, which meant no real growth and too many molts. He had lost several inches in space.
According to his mother, Rocky had always been small for his age. “Smallest hatchling I’d ever seen,” she had said. Rocky grumbled about it, but I was invested. Apparently he also had trouble absorbing minerals from the world to begin with. Nothing that they considered an illness or anything, but something that deeply concerned his parents for the first fifty years of his life. He informed me that all of this was “not relevant” in a tone that let me know that it is very relevant.
Erid’s gravity had not helped him either. Rocky had lived for years in a ship that simulated somewhere between half and three quarters of normal Eridian gravity. So, his own gravity knocked him flat. Literally, a few times.
Adrian had been the one who helped him through most of it. She was bigger than him and steadier. She was a couple of inches taller than me even before she lifted herself to her full height. Rocky complained every time she helped him move, but he leaned on her anyway. It took him about four Earth months before he could move around without tiring himself out after basic tasks.
I had been worse. I had been starving and weak. Two times Earth’s gravity pressed on me constantly. The Eridians solved the food problem first, because that was the problem most likely to kill me first. Then, they started on my biodome.
The first version was habitable, but not pretty. Like a tent in a storm. I however, had air I could breathe, temperature I could survive, and pressure I could survive. So I loved it.
There had been one problem nobody knew how to solve at first. I was touch starved.
I had gone from years with Rocky as my only living companion, to almost dying, to arriving on an alien planet where everything was trying to kill me. Rocky tried. Of course he did. He still had his pressurized ball and he would press it against my side and let me curl around him. It was not enough. I think Adrian knew that before I did.
At first, I thought she did not like me. Adrian was never cruel by any means. She brought me things and checked on systems. She stood near Rocky when they visited and listened to me talk myself hoarse about lights and furniture and whether or not I could get anything resembling a shower. She kept her distance the whole time. I told myself she did not know what to do with me. I found out later that was exactly right. She was afraid of hurting me.
One day, a couple months after we arrived, Rocky and Adrian were with me in the unfinished biodome while I explained what I needed for it to feel more like home. I was sitting on the floor because there were no other options. Adrian was farther away, listening quietly like she always did.
I don’t remember what I was saying when Rocky interrupted me. “Rocky has been working on something for Grace,” he said.
That got my attention. “Should I be worried?”
“No. Grace should be impressed.”
“That sounds dangerous.”
“Grace is rude. Adrian come with Rocky.”
Adrian followed him out. I sat there alone for a few minutes, trying not to feel abandoned and failing spectacularly. I was tired. I was always tired back then. I was lonely even when I was surrounded by people trying very hard to keep me alive.
Then they came back wearing suits. It was tight around the carapace and limbs, layered with xenonite that flexed when they moved. They could actually touch me.
Actually hold me. Rocky barely made it three steps into the room before I broke. I tried to stand. My legs did not cooperate. I think I made some terrible noise that was supposed to be his name, and then Rocky was there. He carefully wrapped two of his limbs around me the best he could.
It should be impossible to miss something you never really had, but I missed that. I collapsed against him. Rocky made a distressed sound and tightened his hold as much as he safely could. “Grace okay?”
“No,” I said, and then started crying so hard I could barely breathe. That was when Adrian moved closer. She moved slowly like I was some wild, frightened animal. Which, to be fair, I kind of was.
One of her arms came around my back. Then another. She held me against Rocky. She was so steady and warm through the suit. It was not human in any way, but it was better, somehow, because it was them. That was the first time Adrian held me.
It was also the first time I understood that she had not been ignoring me because she did not care. She had been standing back because she cared too much to risk getting it wrong.
After that, things changed. Adrian stopped hovering in the background. She sat closer. She learned the safe ways to touch me. She corrected Rocky when he fussed too much and corrected me when I pretended I was fine.
Four years later, I was leaning against her side with my eyes closed on a fake beach under artificial sunlight, and I could barely remember how it had felt to think she did not want me.
“Grace is getting tired,” Adrian said.
I opened one eye. “Only a little bit.”
“Then sleep.”
“I want to wait for Rocky.”
“Rocky will return.”
“I know that.” I shifted against her side and dug my fingers into the warm sand, like that would somehow prove I was not seconds away from face planting into it. “I’m just resting my eyes. It’s a human thing.”
“Human is lying,” Adrian said.
I made a noise in the negative. Adrian made a quiet chord that was probably amusement. Then one of her arms slid around me. I knew what she was doing immediately.
“No,” I said.
She lifted me anyway. It was so easy for her. One second I was sitting on the beach like an independent adult human being. The next, I was tucked against her carapace like an infant and my whole body betrayed me by relaxing.
“This isn’t fair,” I muttered against her suit.
“Very fair.”
“You only do this because you know it works.”
“Why wouldn’t I do something that works?” Adrian asked. Unfortunately the logic was sound.
I tried to glare at her, but it was hard when my cheek was pressed against her suit and one of her arms was holding me with exactly the right amount of pressure.
“Go to sleep,” Adrian said. “I will observe.”
“I want Rocky,” I said petulantly.
“Rocky will be pleased that you slept.”
“Rocky will be pleased that you bullied me,” I corrected.
“Very true.”
I huffed. She adjusted her hold, and my eyes immediately tried to close.
“Dictator,” I mumbled.
“Kind dictator.”
I shook my head. I wanted to argue with that. I really did. Unfortunately Adrian had me trapped in the most dangerous position known to man: comfortable.
The next breath came slowly. Then slower. Somewhere between one blink and the next, I fell asleep.
…
Later that day after I rested (because I refused to call it a nap), I taught pebbles for a couple of hours. By the time the last pebble left, I was running on fumes. Teaching Eridian children was amazing, but it was also exhausting.
It was not like the pebbles were bad students. They were great students. They listened intently to every lesson I did. They answered every question. When I allowed them to ask questions at the end of class, they were all prepared. Every five questions created twenty follow ups. Today, the follow up questions somehow turned into an argument about whether humans were technically symmetrical if our internal organs were not evenly distributed. I had lost that argument. I was still bitter about it.
I gathered my notes from the low table, tucked my tablet under one arm, and made the mistake of standing up too quickly. I nearly stumbled when my knees did not keep up with what I needed them to do.
“Okay,” I muttered. “Not doing that again.”
One of the older pebbles I called Amethyst because she was a deep purple, paused near the exit and turned her carapace toward me. “Grace tired?”
“Nope,” I lied automatically.
She made a skeptical chord. Great. I loved being judged by a child that thought I would grow if given proper minerals.
“I am mildly diminished,” I corrected.
Her chord turned amused. She had been spending too much time around Rocky. “Teacher Grace should rest.”
“I am going to rest. I’m going to rest so hard resting will fear me.”
That got a laugh out of her. She left with the others, little bodies clicking and tapping their way down the corridor. They were all still buzzing with whatever energy they got from asking their alien teacher questions for thirty minutes.
“Teaching,” I said to the empty room with a smile. “A noble profession.”
The classroom was inside the education wing attached to my biodome. It was not technically part of my private living space, but close enough that I could get there without needing an entire transport committee. It had thinner shielding so that the pebbles could sit outside of my atmosphere and still hear me clearly while keeping all of us safe.
The Eridians had designed it after I complained that I missed teaching. By complaining I mean I mentioned it off handedly once and Rocky immediately convened three engineers, two educators, and one very confused structural acoustics expert.
I loved him, but he was still ridiculous. I tucked my tablet tighter against my side and started the walk back toward my private space. I tried to tell myself that the corridor was not too long. That I had survived space and could make it across one stupid corridor to 2gs.
My left foot dragged, nearly tripping me. “Traitor,” I told it.
The corridor opened to the artificial sunlight that spilled across the walkway in a warm golden strip. Rocky and Adrian stood near the entrance.
Rocky was beside a folded blanket, his five legs tucked in a way that would have looked dignified if I didn’t know him. Adrian stood next to him, angled toward me before I even came fully into view. They had obviously been waiting. That thought brought warmth to my chest that immediately replaced my dignity.
“Adrian,” I said, already reaching toward her.
Rocky made a pleased chord. “Grace finished teaching?”
“Grace finished standing,” I said.
One of Adrian’s arms instantly slid around my back, another beneath my legs, and then the floor was no longer my problem. I made a sound that I was very grateful no human had been around to hear.
“Grace worked hard,” Adrian said, already cradling me to her carapace.
“Grace is old.”
“Grace is forty,” Rocky said. “Not old.”
“In Earth gravity, maybe. In Erid gravity, I am an old man.”
Adrian adjusted her hold until my cheek rested against the warm pressure of her suit. “Old man should rest.”
“Old man wants food first.”
“Good,” Rocky said. “Rocky brought food.”
Of course he had. He was already nosing open the insulated container with one limb. The smell hit me a second later. Warm grain substitute the Eridian scientists had just learned to make and protein paste that did not taste like drywall anymore.
I perked up despite myself.
Rocky hummed smugly. “Grace likes.”
“I haven’t even tasted it yet.”
Adrian carried me down my beach. Rocky followed with the food and blanket, making satisfied sounds. The artificial sun was lower now, the dome dimming toward evening. The ocean rolled in lazy, temperature controlled waves that made my joints ache with longing.
Adrian stopped near the edge of the sand.
“Does Grace want down?” Rocky asked.
“No,” I said.
Both of them paused. I was not this clingy all the time. Most of the time, as a matter of fact, I was not. But I had been going for five Earth days, working with scientists and teaching and accepting curious visitors. I pushed it too much this week. Now, I was in pain and tired and just wanted to be held together for a little bit.
I looped one arm around the edge of Adrian’s suit like I had any chance of physically preventing her from doing anything. “No ground.”
Rocky angled his carapace. “The ground did nothing wrong.”
“The ground knows that it did,” I grumbled.
Adrian made a low amused chord. “You refuse blanket?”
“Yes,” I said simply.
Adrian lowered herself onto the blanket Rocky had spread across the sand, but she did not put me down. She just settled me more securely against her side as if this had been the plan all along. It probably had been. Adrian was dangerous like that. She was quiet and patient and always ready to win.
Rocky arranged the food within reach and then tucked himself down on my other side, close enough that his suit brushed my hip. He then snatched the tablet from under my arm.
“No, wait, wait, wait,” I said, taking the tablet back from Rocky.
Rocky made a disapproving chord. “Tired day for Grace,” he said. “Should not be working.”
“I’m not,” I said. “I want music.”
Rocky considered this for a moment. “Acceptable.”
“Thank you for approving my recreational activities,” I said.
“Grace is welcome."
“That was sarcasm.”
“Rocky knows.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. He made a very smug chord and tucked his limbs closer to his body. I then pulled up one of the playlists I had made while we were still on the Hail Mary after Rocky became very curious of human music. The first notes drifted through the beach speakers, low and warm. Rocky settled closer and Adrian’s arm tightened around me.
Rocky nudged the food container closer when I closed my eyes. “Grace needs to eat before sleep.”
“I’m eating,” I said.
“Grace is holding food. Not the same.”
I opened my eyes and looked down. He was right. I had the spoon in my hand and had not made any attempt to actually eat. I took a bite. The warm grain stuff was actually pretty good. Not Earth pasta good, but good enough that I made a happy little noise before I could stop myself.
“Grace likes,” he said again.
“I do,” I admitted. “Tell the food team they’re doing really good.”
“Rocky already told them.”
“Of course you did,” I sighed, taking another bite.
“Rocky also told them the previous version tasted like dust.”
I paused with another spoonful halfway to my mouth. “You did not.”
“Did.”
“Rocky.”
“Was accurate.”
“I don’t want to upset them,” I said. “They’re trying really hard.”
“They asked.”
Adrian made a soft amused chord. “They improved.”
“They probably improved out of fear.”
“Effective motivation,” Rocky said.
I wanted to argue with him, but I was too busy eating the good grain. The music played on. Adrian’s arm adjusted around me slightly. I smiled and leaned harder into her without meaning to.
“Pain?” she asked.
“Normal amount.”
Rocky’s carapace angled toward me immediately. “Normal amount is not a number.”
I grumbled. “7.”
Rocky made a displeased chord while Adrian hummed, displeased as well.
“I overdid it this week,” I said before either of them could start. “I know. I know.”
“Grace want medicine?” Rocky asked.
“No.” I shook my head, taking another bite of food.
“Grace should take medicine,” Adrian told me. “It will help you sleep.”
“Don’t wanna bother the medical team,” I muttered.
“Grace pain is seven,” he said.
“I know.”
“Seven means we bother.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Rocky knows what Grace meant.” His voice was quieter now. “Grace meant he does not want to be a problem.”
I looked down at my food. “I didn’t say that.”
“Grace did not need to.”
I squirmed slightly, as if I could get out of this conversation if I got out of Adrian’s arm. She tightened around me, just enough to remind me that I was not going anywhere.
“The medical team exists for this purpose,” she said.
“That sounds very impersonal.”
“It is factual.”
“Still impersonal.”
“Grace is avoiding.”
“No, I’m not.”
Rocky and Adrian made the same disbelieving chord.
“Okay, I’m avoiding it a little bit.”
“Grace made a rule,” Rocky reminded me.
“I hate it when past me makes rules.”
“Pain over five means medicine.”
I sighed, I had agreed to that years ago to avoid arguments just like this. “I just don’t want them to have to come all the way here because I overdid it,” I said. “That’s all.”
“Grace overdid it because Grace was working with scientists and teaching pebbles,” Rocky said.
“And accepting visitors,” Adrian added.
“And accepting visitors,” Rocky agreed. “And answering many questions.”
“That is kind of my whole thing,” I said.
“Grace’s whole thing also includes sleeping,” Adrian said.
“And eating,” Rocky added.
“And taking medicine when your pain is seven.”
I looked between my two Eridians. “You two rehearse this?”
“No,” Rocky denied.
“Yes,” Adrian said at the same time.
I blinked.
Rocky made a betrayed sound. “Adrian.”
“He asked.”
“You could lie.”
“Grace is already lying enough for all of us.”
I snorted before I could stop myself, and then immediately regretted it because my ribs joined the list of body parts screaming at me. I groaned, squirming to find a more comfortable position. I failed. “Fine,” I groaned, “I’ll take the meds.”
Adrian shifted, lowering her carapace until the side of it brushed lightly against my hair. It was not quite a nuzzle, but close enough to make something in my chest unclench.
“Grace is not a bother,” she said gently.
I hated how much I still needed to hear that.
“I know,” I muttered.
“Grace sometimes knows facts but does not believe facts,” he said.
“I know.”
“Good.”
I took another bite of food mostly because I needed something to do with my mouth that would not embarrass myself further.
Rocky stood.
I narrowed my eyes. “What are you doing?”
“Contacting medical team.”
“Rocky.”
He was still walking away. “Grace agreed.”
“I agreed to take medicine. I did not agree to summon a medical parade.”
“Not parade,” Rocky said. “One doctor.”
“That’s still too many doctors.”
“One is smallest possible amount of doctors.”
Unfortunately, he was right. Still, I opened my mouth to argue. Before I could, Adrian said, “Eat.”
“I’m being managed,” I muttered.
“Yes,” she said.
I sighed and took another bite.
The doctor arrived twelve minutes later after I finished my food. Dr. Bor was one of the medical team members I liked best, which meant I only mildly dreaded her arrival. She was older than Adrian, and larger than her. She had the kind of calm presence that made arguing feel immature. Rocky came back beside her, making a very satisfied chord.
“I’m mad at you,” I told him with a pout.
“Grace can be mad and take medicine.”
I hated that he was right.
Dr. Bor turned her attention to me. “Pain is seven.”
“Yeah,” I muttered. “Seven.”
“Location?”
“Everywhere with joints. Especially knees and back,” I explained.
Dr. Bor made a thoughtful chord. “Grace has exceeded weekly activity recommendation,” she said.
“I prefer the phrase ‘enthusiastically participated in community life.’”
“Grace exceeded weekly activity recommendation,” she repeated.
“Doctor is correct,” Rocky said.
“You’re all ganging up on me.”
“Yes,” Adrian agreed.
At least she was honest.
Dr. Bor moved closer and I forced myself not to tense. “Medication will reduce pain and muscle tension,” she said. “It may make Grace sleepy.”
“Everything make Grace sleepy,” I said.
Dr. Bor extended a small sealed packet toward Adrian rather than me. Smart idea. Adrian took it and opened it with careful precision. Inside was a measured dose of the medicine the team had developed after several months of making sure they did not accidentally poison the only human on the planet.
Adrian held it out. “Grace.”
I stared at it. Rocky made a warning chord.
“I’m taking it,” I said, “I’m enjoying my last moments of sobriety.”
“Grace enjoy faster.”
I rolled my eyes, but took the medicine from her and swallowed it with water. It tasted like bitter metal and fake citrus. All planets I had ever been on agreed that medicine should be nasty.
“There,” I said, throwing the empty paper-like cup at Rocky. He skittered back with a startled chord before it hit him. “Happy?”
“Yes,” Rocky said immediately, jutting out his carapace.
“Yes,” Adrian said.
Dr. Bor hummed. “Good. You should rest for the remainder of your day cycle and reduce activity tomorrow.”
“I have lessons tomorrow,” I argued. “And I’m meeting with, like, three different scientists.”
“No meetings for scientists,” Adrian said.
I turned slowly to look at her. “Excuse me?”
“We will reschedule.”
“You can’t just decide that.”
“Already did,” she said. “Now stop arguing or I will take pebbles away too.”
“That’s cruel and unusual punishment.”
“No, it would be rest.”
“Fine,” I said, because I was too tired. Not because I agreed. Because I didn’t.
Dr. Bor backed away, then said, “Medicine should begin working soon. Contact the medical team if pain remains above five.”
“Thanks,” I said.
“Rest, Grace,” she said.
I simply nodded, waiting until she was out of my eyeline before cuddling closer to Adrian. There. I was resting.
Then Adrian lowered her carapace until the side of it brushed carefully against my hair. It was a proper Eridian nuzzle. Eridians pressed their carapaces together as a sign of affection. Not exactly a kiss, but close enough that my brain had filed it under the same category.
I smiled and kissed the side of her suit.
Rocky lifted his carapace. “Where is Rocky kiss?”
I looked at him. I looked at Adrian. I looked back down at Rocky. I considered my options. Unfortunately, my executive reasoning was leaving me as the medicine took over, leaving me feeling warm and slightly floaty. I turned my face away from him. “No kiss for Rocky.”
“Betrayal,” he said. “Betrayal from my own friend.”
I laughed into Adrian’s suit.
“No, no, no,” Rocky said. “This cannot stand.”
“It’s standing pretty well from here.”
“Adrian,” Rocky said. “Release Grace.”
I tightened my arm around the edge of Adrian’s suit. “Adrian, don’t you dare.”
Adrian made a thoughtful chord.
“Adrian,” I warned.
She set me down on the blanket.
I stared up at her. “Wow.”
“Grace caused own problem,” she said.
“I am surrounded by traitors.”
Rocky advanced. I scrambled backward across the blanket, not even attempting to get onto my feet. I could not. Rocky followed, all five legs tapping with terrible purpose.
“Rocky,” I said, holding up one hand. “Let’s be reasonable.”
“Too late for reason.”
“You’re supposed to be the calm one,” I said, holding onto one of Adrian’s limbs.
“Rocky is calm.”
“You are literally hunting me.”
“Calmly.”
I let go of Adrian and made it maybe two feet before he caught me. To be fair, he cheated by having more legs than me. Also by being Rocky. Also by making me laugh so hard my ribs complained.
“No,” I wheezed. “No, no, wait, medication makes this unfair.”
“Grace denied kiss. Consequences happen.”
“You are abusing my compromised state.”
“Grace should have considered this before betrayal.”
The wrestling match lasted five minutes if I was generous and ignored the part where both of us had to stop twice because I was laughing too hard to breathe and Rocky kept making triumphant chords before he had actually won.
Eventually, one of his limbs slipped carefully around my middle and he bumped his carapace against my shoulder.
“Rocky wins.”
“Rocky cheats.”
“Rocky earns kiss.”
I rolled my eyes and kissed the side of his suit. “There. Horrible creature.”
Rocky hummed with smug satisfaction. “Friend loves Rocky.”
“Friend is exhausted.”
“Friend still loves Rocky.”
“Yeah, I love you.”
Rocky made a happy trill, doing jazz hands and turning in the circle as if he won the lottery.
Adrian picked me back up as if cleaning up a mess she had absolutely helped create.
“You two are ridiculous,” she said.
I yawned so hard my jaw popped. “You love us anyway.”
Adrian’s arm settled around me. “Unfortunately true.”
Rocky tucked the blanket and food container away, still smug enough that I could practically hear it through the floor. The artificial sunlight had dimmed further while we were being ridiculous, the dome slipping toward the evening cycle. The ocean had gone dark gold at the edges.
“Almost end of day cycle,” Rocky said. “Grace wants home or stay on beach, question?”
“Home,” I mumbled against Adrian’s suit. “Wanna shower. Then bed.”
“Yes, yes, yes,” Rocky said immediately. “Good plan. Adrian and Rocky will observe.”
I smiled sleepily.
Adrian shifted me higher against her side as she stood. “Actually, I need to eat. Then I will join Grace.”
My eyes opened again. Only a little. “Sleep with Adrian. Rocky observe.”
Rocky’s voice softened. “Yes. Good plan.”
Adrian brushed her carapace lightly against my hair again. “I will join
after eating.”
I gave her another kiss. “Promise?”
“Promise.”
I relaxed at that, because promises meant something here.
Adrian carried me back toward the house while Rocky walked beside us, still making smug little victory chords every few steps.
“You’re unbearable,” I told him.
“Rocky is loved.”
“Those are not mutually exclusive.”
He did jazz hands again. I did not have the energy to object.
Near the maintenance access, one of the evening workers stood beside an open panel. Jade, I called her, because her carapace was a deep green that reminded me of the polished stone in a necklace my aunt used to wear. I didn’t know her real name. Eridian names were still hard sometimes, especially when I was tired, and most of the maintenance crew seemed amused by my color system anyway.
I lifted one hand from Adrian’s suit and gave her a sleepy wave.
Jade turned her carapace toward me. For a second, she just listened. Then she turned back to the panel. My hand dropped.
Huh. Weird. Jade was normally pretty nice. Maybe she had been distracted.
Adrian adjusted her hold, and the thought slipped away as quickly as it had come. By the time we reached the house, I had forgotten about it.
…
The human refused to be set down.
Adrian allowed it. Of course she did. She lifted the creature higher against her side, and Rocky fussed with the soft covering, and the human made one of its tired mouth sounds before pressing its face into Adrian’s suit.
Spoiled, Jade thought.
The human had a private ocean. A private sun. Food prepared to impossible standards. Soft things. Touch whenever it reached for it. Two famous Eridians orbiting its every breath.
And still the rest of Erid was expected to be grateful for glimpses.
Grace, everyone called it. As if the name changed what it was. As if giving the creature a place in Rocky’s home made it any less extraordinary and valuable.
It taught pebbles for a few hours and everyone praised its generosity. It answered approved questions from approved scientists on approved days, with Rocky hovering nearby and Adrian ready to end the session the moment the human grew tired. Then it retreated behind sound-dead walls and disappeared into its private world again.
The walls Jade maintained.Four years, she had worked inside this dome. Four years checking pressure seals, temperature lines, sound barriers, filtration systems, water controls, light cycles, food storage, emergency vents, all for one fragile alien that could not survive the world that had saved it.
She knew the dome better than most. Better than some of the engineers who had designed it. She knew where the maintenance corridors narrowed. She knew which alarms triggered immediate response and which ones merely logged for morning review. She knew the night-cycle schedule, the weak points in the patrol routes, the stretches of silence where no one listened because no one believed there was anything to hear. Everyone thought the human was safest here.
Jade listened as Rocky made another pleased chord. The human laughed, soft and exhausted, while Adrian carried it toward the house.
The buyers would like that. They wanted intelligence, yes. Proof that the creature could communicate, answer questions, learn routines. Jade had supplied enough recordings from the education wing to satisfy that curiosity.
But this was better. It was affectionate when bonded and responsive to touch. It was easily tired after exertion, calmer when fed, medicated, and held. It was socialized enough to be displayed, rare enough to be priceless.
Several buyers had already signaled serious interest. Wealthy private collectors. A biological antiquities broker. One of the old mineral families with a sealed estate and a reputation for owning things no one else could acquire. They did not want a lecture from the human. They just wanted the human.
Jade turned back to the open maintenance panel and checked the false pressure fluctuation she had entered into the system earlier. A small error. Annoying, but not dangerous. The kind of issue night-cycle staff would expect in a habitat this complicated. The kind Rocky might hear and investigate himself if he was awake.
He would be awake. He almost always was when Adrian and the human slept. That was the one complication. Jade’s limbs tightened beneath her carapace. She did not dislike him. That would have been easier. Rocky was brilliant, beloved, and unbearably sentimental about the creature he had brought home. He had convinced most of Erid that the human was not a discovery to be shared, but a person to be protected.
It was a beautiful story.
It was also wasteful.
Rocky was smaller than he should have been. Everyone knew that, even if they were polite enough not to say it where he could hear. Space had diminished him. Erid’s gravity still tired him faster than he admitted. If he was the watcher tonight, he could be restrained.
Adrian would be asleep, unable to wake.
The human would wake if frightened, but frightened creatures hid before they fought. Jade had seen that too. A sudden sound, too many unfamiliar bodies, a medical procedure it disliked, and the human always searched for cover.
That would be handled. Jade would not work alone. She was not foolish. She had two from the transport side, one from private security, one older Eridian large enough to hold Rocky down if necessary. She had another to manage the container and atmosphere unit. They had paid for precision, and precision was what she had given them.
No damage was her only condition. No damage meant a higher price.
Behind her, the human made another sleepy sound. Jade turned her carapace toward it one last time. The creature lifted one soft hand from Adrian’s suit and waved. For a moment, Jade did nothing.
It knew her, in its shallow way. Jade. A color name. A child’s name for someone who had kept its air clean for four years. Then she turned back to the panel. The human’s hand dropped. Good, Jade thought, and sealed the access log.
Let Rocky and Adrian have their last evening of pretending. By morning, Erid would have more than glimpses.