Page 65 of Roping Her Alien Ranchers

“What’s your home like?” I needed to understand what they were longing to get back to, to find out how far away from their reality they felt. Maybe I could make them feel more at home here. “Could I go there?”

They exchanged glances, and for a moment, I sensed a quiet tension among them. Cyro ceased mimicking the katydids’ rhythmic chirps, pausing mid-note. He met my gaze, those metallic blue-lavender eyes shimmering under Kalith’s lights.

“Our home is not so different, yet very different from Earth,” he finally said, turning serious in a way that made my heart clench. “It is a place of vast underwater cities, formed out of organic materials that breathe and adapt like living beings. The sky is dark most of the star cycle, with three moons that provide nourishment to our flora. And the creatures of our world swim in endless, migratory patterns. They have to, as most need different minerals from different oceanic regions throughout their life cycles in order to thrive.”

“If it’s nighttime most of the year,” I said, not exactly sure what a star cycle meant, “then how do the plants photosynthesize?”

“Photo…” Cyro let the word trail off, obviously thinking. “Create nutrition from light?”

I nodded.

“Our moons provide the same necessary catalyst for that. They are Mimasa, Nereida, and Nixa. They are life.”

He began describing the way the moons changed color during their cycles, how the tides shifted as the moons waxed and waned.

I leaned forward, captivated by Cyro’s description. My mind painted vivid scenes of iridescent cities shimmering beneath waves, bustling with the life of creatures I could scarcely comprehend. The image was so enchanting, so otherworldly, that I momentarily forgot about my own troubles—the impending foreclosure, the painful memories of Derek, the creeping doubt that threatened to overwhelm me. Here I was, on my ranch, and somehow part of a cosmic tapestry that spanned more than just Earth.

“That sounds beautiful,” I murmured, glancing at the stars, suddenly filled with longing. “I guess all I have here are... well, fields of sunflowers and hope in a bucket full of holes.”

“We are here,” Kalith said.

“For now,” I murmured sullenly.

The world went absolutely quiet, even the insects ceased singing. I didn’t think I was breathing, my mind trying to fight against a crash. I didn’t want them to leave. How could I already feel that way?

Tension mounted.

And it was Vantor that pulled us up for air. Though, maybe they didn’t need it. They were all three used to living underwater.

“Your constellations look so different here… warped somehow,” Vantor murmured, his body arched back, too far to be natural, one human arm split into tentacles from the elbow down, clinging to fence rails so he wouldn’t fall off the barrier. “On our world, we view them through azure waters. The light refracts, creating patterns that shift and dance with the tides.”

Part of me wanted to point out that viewing stars through water would make them appear warped, not viewing them through unfettered air, but I was sure to Vantor, seeing the night sky like this was strange.

I sipped my coffee, trying to imagine stars seen through an ocean ceiling. “That sounds beautiful.”

“It is,” he confirmed, his voice carrying a slight underwater quality. I’d noticed that all their voices changed when they let their human disguises slip. Now, that bubbling undercurrent in his words held an emotional note. “As a juvenile, I would swim to the surface barriers at night and press my appendages against them, imagining I could reach through and touch the stars. Back then, only adults could breach the barrier. Young ones do not have developed enough lung systems. The moment I was of age, I felt air kiss my body. I breathed freedom. I saw the stars and wanted nothing more than to reach them. It is why I entered the Galaxy Exploration Force Academy.”

His words reminded me of a childhood memory I’d long forgotten.

“I used to climb onto my roof with a flashlight,” I offered. “I thought if I flashed it enough times, aliens would see it and come visit.” I laughed softly. “Guess it worked eventually.”

Kalith chuckled out of the blue, the sound bubbling from him like water over stones in a brook. “My story isn’t nearly as poetic as Vantor’s. I was recruited to G.E.F Academy after repeatedly dismantling colony systems to understand their functions. It was incarceration at one of the coral mines or join.”

“You got in trouble for taking things apart?” I asked, grinning at how perfectly that aligned with what I’d seen of him. I was pretty sure he’d snuck back to the tractor already. I’d probably find it in pieces tomorrow.

“Seventeen incidents,” he confirmed, looking sheepish but proud. “Including the primary atmospheric regulation system of the third surface quadrant. I improved its efficiency by forty-three percent, but that was considered insufficient justification for the sixteen hours of emergency breathing apparatus deployment.”

“Surface quadrant?” I quirked an eyebrow, then took another long draw of coffee gone too cool for my liking.

“As our species expanded, it became necessary to build above water, bio-domes.” Cyro explained. “Compromising the water breathing systems was dangerously foolish.”

Kalith rolled his golden-flecked human eyes.

“Are the bio-domes filled with water?” I guessed.

“Precisely. Though, it is becoming harder to maintain them as our oceans fail.” Cyro sobered, at that, and I wondered if he was thinking about their failed mission.

It would be so selfish of me to want them to stay. An entire planet was waiting on samples of Earth water to try to repair things.