Starfish

Thirty-Five

The text he was looking for, Principles And Practices of Conservation by a promising naturalist from Ardus's own southern continent, had been placed on a shelf at Nina's eye level, rendering it nearly invisible to his own. Ardus retrieved it and went looking for something to wrap it in that would keep it dry in the gale. He made a round to Meem's laboratory and checked the progress of her worms and the ongoing venom extraction. 

"Nia thinks she's almost got the titration right," Meem told him, her nostrils visibly flaring at the muted scent of his musk. There wasn't much he could do about that, so Ardus turned his head away whenever she gave him a cautiously knowing look. The lights overhead flickered, the wind hammering relentlessly against the outside walls. The bluebacks were nervous, squeaking and huddling together on the floor of their cage. A tank of black runner lizards rustled beneath an insulation cover, their claws skittering in the sand as they darted anxiously. Only the worms and other water-dwelling creatures were calm, secure in their safety surrounded by the nearly-unbreakable glass of their tanks and round-the-clock monitoring by Meem and her laboratory assistants. 

Ardus swished a finger across the surface of the water, stirring the worms' attention and coaxing one up to test the tip of his finger with the projections around its slimy maw. Deftly he scooped the worm into his hand – careful to keep the sharp stinger pointed well away from him – and palpated its body, feeling for muscle tone. "This one is feeling a bit fat, I suggest increasing their protein intake for a few weeks."

Meem agreed and made note of his instruction on her tablet. "Right, first thing in the morning. I'll have Doctor Nina assist with the formula while she's helping me with venom extraction – we'll have to account for it during the next few cycles, any diet change might affect production."

Ardus nodded along, turning the worm over in his hands and inspecting its belly. "How soon will you have the results?"

"A week, maybe two. Right now there are chemical simulations running on the university's servers – I asked Runo to set them up this morning but they'll take a few days to complete, and when they're done I'll have to go over them with Nia. I'm actually just about to wrap up here for the day, since there's not much else I can do except wait for the data." Meem paused, her head tilting prettily to one side as she listened to the rain outside. "It sounds like it's finally letting up out there, doesn't it?"

Ardus nodded, "Yes it does-" His head snapped up – the sound outside had softened to a steady hiss, nothing like the thunderous hammering from earlier. Ardus's heart thudded painfully – Fed shuttles can't get off the ground if it keeps raining like it is – and he thought of the tiny woman back at his apartment, alone. "It does! I am sorry Meem, I need to go – finish what you are doing, upload your next report to the university drive. If Nia asks I will be at home." Ardus returned the worm to its tank with a splash, stripping off his smock and draping it over a stool. He ducked through the laboratory door and started off at a hurried walk back towards his office. He snatched Principles and Practices off of his desk and tucked it under his tunic, leaving in such a rush he left his office lights on and the door partially open. 

The rain gushed down, dribbling under his collar front and back and soaking the gathered hem of his trousers. Saturated sand clung to his feet, the downpour turning low-lying dunes into a slurry of grit and salty water. He didn't need his nictitating membranes and the rain sluiced down from his barbels and ran freely over his eyes in sheets, turning the world into a wavering grey-blue haze. Ardus reached his building at a trot, puffing less from the effort and more from the anxiety, and searched the building again for humans. Letting himself into his apartment he called for Nina. He met with silence. "Nina?" he called again, his heart in his throat as the apartment answered him with silence.