Tevun-Krus #75 - International 4: SolarPunk

One Populace - An English Short Story by @sleepingdraco

His broad shoulders and radiant smile captured her attention even from her distant seat in the monstrous auditorium. The deep thrum of his amplified voice made it difficult for her to concentrate on his speech, despite having looked forward to its scientific content for weeks.

The Intragalactic Conference on Saving Endangered Life Forms only convened once every five years on the planet Climatae. As a postdoctoral student in her final year, it was an honor that earth's consortiums of universities had elected her to go and funded her travel. Her Ph.D. thesis had won her numerous accolades, but attending this conference was her highest achievement yet, assuring her a name in the intergalactic science community, and a job. After four years of earning an undergraduate degree, five years earning a Ph.D. (considered record time), and three years as a post-doctorate it was time to get a real job.

She hadn't even allowed herself time to date which is why she mentally slapped herself when she found herself a second time focused more on Dr. Smyth's chocolate baritone slithering down her spine, than on his lecture on atmospheric cleansing. She would present her work in one of the smaller break-out sessions tomorrow, a smaller room with no more than one or two hundred people, but a crowd of fifty thousand scientists currently hung on every word of Dr. Smyth's lecture, the conference's opening symposium.

Dr. Drake closed her eyes and breathed deeply. Though indoors, she felt as if she was surrounded by the last preserved old-growth forest of the Pacific Northwest United States, a home she'd left long ago. Little wonder, the bioarchitecture exemplified living structures, grown over hundreds of years to meet the needs of the populace of Climatae.

Julia couldn't believe how well she had slept on her first night on Climatae, essentially outside on a treehouse-like structure open to a spectacular night sky. Although the temperature cooled several degrees at night, the living moss blankets and mattresses lining the bed adjusted to its occupant's biorhythm. Even if she hadn't slept well, the oxygen content here exceeded most conference centers so much so that very few attendees required coffee to stay awake.

The grand walls of the auditorium grew in a warm mixture of oranges and greens. Leaves the size of blankets, nestled together tightly on end, rustled from the ceiling filtering soft light from Climatae's earth-like sun. Julia leaned back in her seat's smooth surface which adapted to the occupants dimensions providing excellent lumbar support and looked up at the banner that hung above the crowd.

One Solar System, One Populace

The pull of his voice drew her upright again and she found herself drawn to the sparkle in his blue eyes. She shook her head. His speech was over now and Dr. Smyth stepped away from the podium to make room for Dr. Xanaltan, a short purplish eight-legged inhabitant (aliens and humans were no longer acceptable words to describe beings, even humankind had morphed among the liberal educated of the solar system to inhabitantkind). Dr. Xanaltan hailed from the planet Vardan, and maintained a reputation as THE renowned expert on sustainable intragalactic farming. Julia perked up and took notes.

Three hours later, wearing a black cocktail dress, she drank green tea in the corner of the ballroom. The dinner exceeded her expectations of what a vegan planet could create. She didn't know any of the plants that were served but she had never enjoyed a healthy meal more. While she preferred a cocktail at the end of the day, she didn't recognize anything offered at the bar other than the tea. A healthier choice, she thought and took another sip. The liquid slid smoothly down her throat, she looked again at her beverage, certainly not green tea, but delicious nonetheless. She finished her first and had another, and then a third.

"Are you enjoying your visit to Climatae," said a masculine voice behind her. She jumped and simultaneously registered an alarming tingle radiated down her arms and back. It can't be. Julia turned and found Dr. Smyth standing close enough to smell. And oh did he smell good. Some recess of Julia's mind registered cedar, grass, a simple soap, and a touch of scotch. She stared at him. His shoulders looked even broader this close. Julia's eyes quickly cataloged a dark soft beard, glacier-blue eyes, short-cropped hair, and oddly what appeared to be a titanium left arm.