by Jade Alters
I shiver, as there’s a little bit too much truth in that joke.
Shaking my head, I move out of the dormitory area and head in the direction of the labs. I think. To be honest, for such a small place, navigating it is kind of confusing. I try to remember where everything that Dr. Pyrrhos showed me is, but I still passed through the kitchen twice before I remember where the labs and the greenhouse are.
I stop into the empty lab first and feel a thrill rush through me. The space is small, but it appears well-equipped with the essentials and is neat and clean. I’m going to make so many breakthroughs in this place, I can just feel it! I run my hand along the long metal worktable in the middle of the room and try to imagine what it’ll feel like if I’m actually successful with my work.
It’ll be groundbreaking.
Literally life-changing.
The phantom twinge I feel in my thigh is a constant reminder of what I’m working for. For myself, and countless others like me.
I take a breath and step away from the table, nearly overwhelmed with the emotion and gravity of it all. Whatever happens is going to happen in this laboratory. If I succeed or if I fail, I’m going to do so right in this room.
It’s terrifying and exhilarating all at once.
Shaking out my arms, I realize that being in here is not helping me relax in the least, so I retreat back out into the common space. Right across from me is Dr. Pyrrhos’ lab. The door is closed, which doesn’t surprise me in the least, but I can hear noises from the other side. Loud, clanging noises, punctuated by the occasional shouted curse. What in the world is he doing in there?
Curious, I step up to the door and for a wild moment, consider opening it just to catch him unprepared. That wouldn’t be very nice of me, though, so I resist. Instead, I notice an intercom box hanging next to the door.
Pushing the talk button, I say, “Dr. Pyrrhos? Hello?”
I wait for him to respond. Enough time passes that I think he’s just going to blatantly ignore me, but then to my delight, the intercom buzzes and his voice carries through to me.
“I’m rather busy at the moment, Dr. Reyes. Is there something you need?”
“What are you working on?” I ask, deciding just to be bold about my curiosity to see what he does.
He doesn’t respond right away, and I wonder what type of face he’s making. Curious? Pissed off? Exhausted? Perhaps even a little thrilled?
The intercom buzzes again. “It’s nothing to concern yourself with.”
“Well, is it dangerous?” I have this strange desire to push him and see if I can crack that icy exterior he’s erected, no doubt over the years.
“What do you mean, dangerous?”
I shrug, but he can’t see me. “I mean, if something goes wrong in there, could my life be in danger?”
“You’re in the middle of Antarctica. Your life is always in danger here.”
“You know what I mean.”
He releases a long sigh. “Dr. Reyes, I can’t say for certain what the risks are of my work. What scientist can truly do that?”
Oh, he’s definitely working on something dangerous in there. Energy distribution my butt.
“For the sake of my wellbeing, shouldn’t I have a right to know the risks?” I say.
There’s a long amount of silence, and then, “Just a second.”
I blink, surprised. What just happened?
I hear the click of the door being unlocked from the inside and the next thing I know, it’s opening. Not much, but enough that Dr. Pyrrhos can stick his head out and level me with an annoyed, arched-brow look.
More startling than his sudden appearance, though, is the blast of heat that spills out of the room behind him. I take a step back, caught off guard by the intensity.
Woah. Whatever he’s doing in there might be a lot more serious than I suspected.
“Do you know how to take a hint?” he growls. “Go away.”
I tilt my head and gaze at him, amused despite his obvious irritation. He’s trying awfully hard to be the big bad wolf Charlie painted him as. I have a feeling, though, that it’s mostly an act. Maybe a defense mechanism of some kind, to keep people from getting close to him.
“If you’re working on something with the potential to, I don’t know, explode, I think I should know about it,” I tell him, crossing my arms and holding his gaze stubbornly.
His nostrils flare and his jaw tightens. “Look, I think we’ll both get along just fine if you mind your business, and I mind mine. Got it?”
I frown. “I just think…”
“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t disturb me again,” he snaps. “Goodbye.”
With that, he shuts the door in my face.
I blink, admittedly taken a little aback. This might take a little more work than I was anticipating.
Turning on my heel, I give him what he wants and walk away from the door. But not in defeat. Oh, no. I’m nowhere near close to giving up. In fact, I’m much more determined to convince him to be friendly to me. He thinks he can be stubborn and focus-driven? He hasn’t seen anything yet.
Aleixo
I’ve lost track of time again. Not an unusual occurrence for me, but I can tell it’s gotten quite late while I’ve been toiling away in my lab. Not only am I exhausted, but I’m starving as well. I can’t remember the last thing I ate that day, but I know it was rather early in the day. Usually, I don’t go so long without food. Sleep is one thing that I’ll readily skip out on if I am on a roll with something, but food…when my stomach demands attention, I’m usually eager to comply.
I’m ashamed to say that I was hiding today, though. Hiding from Samantha, who is already proving a greater distraction than I like. When she came to my lab and asked to know what I was doing, I panicked and was an intentional asshole to her to get her to leave me alone. It shouldn’t bother me so much, as I’m an intentional asshole to most people, but I haven’t been able to shake this feeling of guilt deep in my stomach since I slammed the lab door in her face.
It’s not like she’s really done anything wrong. She’s just being friendly, I think, and I can tell she has a curious nature, just like I do. Usually, I find such traits in others annoying, but in her…for whatever reason, she doesn’t irritate me like other people do. She unnerves me and breaks my focus, but I can’t seem to stay annoyed with her, which I find troubling.
I sigh as I clean up my lab and step out the door, ready to call it a night. Food, then sleep, and there’s no reason for me to worry because it’s so late and she had to be exhausted from her trip. No doubt, Samantha is passed out in her room and there’s no risk of me running into her at least until morning. If I play my cards right and get back into the lab before she wakes, I might be able to go the whole day without seeing her.
As I make my way to the kitchen, I try to force thoughts of Samantha from my mind. There are other, more important things for me to think about. Like the Phoenix Cluster, and everything I’ve learned while studying it. I’ve been able to determine just how phoenixes absorb and redistribute energy, which is vastly different from humans. Whereas humans temporarily store energy and then shed it, usually through their cells, phoenixes recycle and redistribute it throughout their lifetimes. With each shedding, a human loses vitality, which leads to aging. Since phoenixes don’t shed their energy nearly as often as humans, our aging process is significantly slower, and our ability to restore that energy is what allows us to regenerate and maintain our bodies even after injury, and sometimes death.
Because our bodies hold onto so much energy instead of shedding it, our internal temperatures are significantly higher as well. We are capable of self-combustion and rebirth, so to speak, because that energy maintains the integrity of our physical beings. Humans burn and die because their bodies aren’t built to hold onto so much heat and energy. Phoenixes burn and thrive because we are built like steel traps for that energy.
Now that I have a better understanding of how our bodies work, I can more
easily control and manipulate the natural instincts and bonds that phoenixes are so often enslaved to.
I’m so caught up in my thoughts about my research that, as I enter the kitchen, I don’t immediately realize that it’s occupied. I come to a jolting stop, however, when my eyes land on Samantha. She’s sitting at the small table, staring at her laptop resting in front of her. A bowl of cereal is next to the machine. I watch, transfixed as she focuses in on whatever she’s reading. Her nose scrunches up in concentration, and damn it, it’s adorable.
Damn it, she’s supposed to be asleep. If she looks up and spots me, no doubt she’ll tell me to shove it and get lost after the way I treated her earlier. I decide to try and sneak away, ignoring my stomach’s rumbling.
Unfortunately, I don’t even make it two steps before her head snaps up and bright green eyes lock with mine. She looks surprised to see me at first, and then, to my shock, a friendly smile curls her lips.
“Hey, Dr. Pyrrhos, working late too?”
I blink and scratch my chin awkwardly, caught off guard by her pleasant demeanor. Does nothing upset this woman?
“Um…yes, I was,” I finally tell her. “I was just finishing up and thought I’d grab something to eat before bed…”
“Oh, don’t mind me,” she says, waving her hand toward the fridge. “I fell asleep for a while then woke up. I’m struggling to fall back to sleep…jet lag, I suppose. Thought I’d go over some articles and peer reviews I’ve been meaning to look at for my research.”
Her eyes lock back in on her computer screen while she’s talking to me, and I see that I’m not really the most interesting thing in the room to her at that moment. That’s fine. Ideal, actually. I don’t really feel like talking anyway.
Without a word, I cross over to the small fridge and open it. I root around for some leftovers from the night before and move to pop them into the microwave. I steal a glance at her as I heat up my food, but she’s clearly lost in whatever she’s reading. That crinkle in her nose is back. She also presses a finger to her lips and gently bites down on it as she reads. I feel a jolt of something at the sight. Something that I do not need to have to deal with right now.
Gritting my teeth, I look away from her and stare at the countdown clock on the microwave until it dings. I pull out my meal and go to sit across from her at the table. She doesn’t look back up at me and I eat in silence for several long moments. Usually, I have no problem with silence. It’s soothing, and far preferable to ceaseless chatter and pointless conversation.
As I sit there, though, and watch her work, I start to get antsy. I’m too curious about her and what’s going through her impressive mind to maintain the silence for long.
“What are you working on, exactly?” I ask her at length.
She glances up at me. Slowly, she smirks.
“I thought I was meant to mind my own business, and you were going to mind yours?”
Throwing my own words back in my face. It stings, but it’s fair.
“Point taken,” I concede.
She goes back to her reading, and I push the preheated chicken and rice around on my plate as I struggle to come up with something else to say. Damn, I really am out of practice when it comes to making conversation.
At length, she shows me mercy and lifts her head back up to ask, “What brought you to Antarctica in the first placed? Don’t try to convince me it’s your plants.”
I grin, amused despite myself. Usually when someone asks about my reasons for being here, I get defensive and do everything I can to shut the conversation down. For some reason though, in this moment, with her, I actually want to tell her. I can’t tell her everything, obviously, but I can give her a few crumbs at least. Just to have something to talk about.
“Have you heard of the Phoenix Cluster?” I ask her.
She arches a brow. “Sure. It’s a galaxy cluster that was discovered by the Amendsen-Scott South Pole station telescope. It’s creating stars at breakneck speed, unlike anything that’s been observed before.”
I blink at her, impressed. “Yes, exactly.”
“You’re studying it?” She closes her laptop and gives me her full attention. I feel an odd sense of pride at that, like I’ve just passed some secret test of some kind.
“I am,” I nod. “I am studying how the cluster uses and redirects energy, and applying that research to life here on earth.”
Her eyes widen with realization. “Oh! That’s what you meant by energy redistribution. That makes so much more sense now.”
I grin. Her eyes are big and bright, and I love that she understands what I’m talking about and can keep up with me. I hadn’t realized until that moment just how much I actually miss conversation with another person, so long as it’s intellectually stimulating and interesting.
We continue to talk for quite some time about the cluster and my research, or at least the parts of my work I’m willing to share with her. I’m blown away by her aptitude for the subject, and am fascinated by how eager she is to gain knowledge. She asks me questions that are insightful and poignant, and I find I’m all too happy to answer them.
The ease with which we converse makes me a little nervous, however. Samantha is almost too easy to talk to. I could see myself getting attached to her, which is something I absolutely don’t want to do. It’s not because of her, by any means, but I swore not to let myself get entangled with another being long ago. The last time it happened, my will was not completely my own, and I ended up trapped in a nightmare.
I realize the danger that Samantha poses for me. I enjoy her company far too much, and there’s a danger in that. There’s a danger in letting her get close to me.
I need to put distance between us, and fast.
“Well,” I say, glancing down at my almost empty plate, “I’m pretty much done here and it’s late. I should really be getting to bed.”
She blinks, looking rightly started by my abrupt closure to our conversation.
“Oh,” she says. “O…okay. Maybe we can chat about this another time? It’s really fascinating.”
“Yeah, sure,” I say in a noncommittal tone as I shove to my feet and move to place my dishes in the sink. “That’d be fine. You know, when we’re not busy with our work.”
“Right.” Her tone and expression convey her disappointment. She sees that I’m brushing her off, and I kind of hate myself for doing this to her. She doesn’t really deserve it, but I won’t be doing either of us any favors if I let this continue. One or both of us is just going to be left hurt and disappointed, of that I have no doubt.
“All right, well, goodnight,” I lamely say before turning and making a beeline for the door.
“Goodnight,” she calls after me, but I don’t stop to look back, fearful that I won’t be able to leave her there if I see her crestfallen expression.
I grit my teeth and harden myself against the feelings she’s provoked in me. Samantha Reynold is far more dangerous than I initially took her for. She pulled me with that sweet smile and bubbly attitude…but I can’t let myself be blinded to the reality that lies between us.
She is a human.
I am a phoenix.
One day, she will leave this place, grow old, and die.
And I’ll just keep living, which will be a lot easier to do if I’m not haunted by the memory of her bright green gaze and musical laugh.
Aleixo
I quickly realize that trying to keep my distance from Samantha in as small of a facility as the one we occupy is way harder than I would’ve thought. I start spending the majority of my days in my lab, and she doesn’t bother me there again after that first time she came buzzing at my door. Luckily, that first week she quickly becomes occupied setting up her own lab across the hall from mine. It’s easy to avoid running into her…it’s not so easy to ignore her presence.
The more comfortable she becomes in the facility, the more the place becomes hers. She starts leaving out books in different places. Some blankets she’s brou
ght with her get strewn about. Sweatshirts she’s shed and left lying in random rooms that still bear her scent torment me.
Her scent. Her scent is everywhere. It’s a heady mix of her floral shampoo and what I can only describe as her essence. It taunts me almost everywhere I go. Her scent seems to linger in every crack and crevice, every piece of furniture, and every porous surface that can soak it up. The only place I can truly escape any traces of her is my lab, but even in there, I can’t escape my thoughts of her.
As days turn into weeks with us barely interacting, I begin to grow restless. I find myself walking by her lab door just to see if I can hear her working inside. Sometimes, I catch her moving through the facility and, if she doesn’t notice me, I just watch her. I can’t help myself. The way she moves is so graceful and assured. She’s athletic, that much I can tell just from observing her, but I don’t know if she played sports growing up, if she likes to run, or if she was even a dancer. It’s the not knowing that really starts to drive me crazy.
The woman is a mystery, and all my mind wants to do is uncover everything I can about her.
One day, about two weeks after her arrival, I’m working in my lab when I hear something outside my door. I’m crossing the room and pressing my ear against it because I fully realize I’ve moved. I grimace to myself – pathetic – but I don’t move away from the door.
I hear her walking, her soft footsteps padding across the floor. She’s humming. I’ve noticed that she does that now and again when she’s distracted. What’s distracting her, I wonder? Is she reading something as she’s walking? That’s a talent of hers I’ve witnessed on more than one occasion. Is she puzzling out a problem with her research in her head? When she gets stuck on something, she’ll often pace through the facility as she works through it.
I want to know what she’s doing so badly. It would be easy to find out. All I have to do is open the door, and she’d be right there. I could have my question answered and move on with my day…except I know that’s not actually likely. If I interact with her…if I talk to her…I don’t know that I’d be able to stop.