Sure

The spacesuit feels cumbersome as the harsh winds batter against it. All around me is a landscape of bluish sand and rock, the wind dull and relentless. The resort, encased in a large clear dome, creates an oasis of calm with its wind-blocking devices extending a hundred meters around it. Inside, it's easy to forget the planet's severe conditions.

But why am I out here? Zane insisted on seeing the extent of the land I own, claiming to be an 'investor.' I watch as he talks to the professionals I called in: a planetary geologist, Gemma Stafford. She's collecting samples of the sand and rocks. He said he didn't want to bring his own people in since this is my project, but here he is, immersed in the process.

Gemma Stafford is a young geologist, not from a prominent family, but her portfolio impressed me. Watching her work, I feel confident in my choice. Along with her, I've brought in a team of experts: an architect, an engineer, and representatives from the construction company that built the resort. They mentioned I came just in time; they were on the verge of shutting down. Apparently, the first owner, the father of the current owner, was the one who originally built this place.

I stand, watching Zane interact with the team of professionals. He speaks with such authority and knowledge that I can't help but be impressed. How does a businessman like him know so much about planetary geology and construction?

The weight of my spacesuit anchors me as I make my way toward them, necessary for stability in this harsh weather. When I reach Zane, he takes my hand without breaking his stride, continuing his conversation with the experts. I can't see his face through the visor of his silver suit, but his questions are precise and insightful.

Standing there, I feel like nothing more than attractive eye candy. I resolve to ask him what he knows and to explain it all to me once we're back inside the resort. For now, I let him lead, curious and slightly awed by his unexpected expertise.

*

As I lean against Zane, I can't help but admire his focused expression as he studies the 3D display of his hologlyph. His piercing green eyes reflect the numbers and words, and I find myself captivated by the intensity of his gaze. He's recording data onto a metal screen display, a relic from a bygone era. I recall asking him about it once, and he shared the fascinating story of how archeologists discovered this technology on a dead planet called Earth - the rumored birthplace of humanity.

Zane's version of this ancient tech is a testament to his resourcefulness, as he convinced a tech company to recreate it using the strongest metal available. Despite its crude design, it still holds a certain charm, and I can appreciate the appeal of putting pen to paper - or in this case, stylus to metal. In a world where digital communication reigns supreme, there's something endearing about Zane's fondness for this nostalgic method.

As I become lost in thought, Zane's voice snaps me back to reality. "Hey, Siren, I'm done." His gaze meets mine, and I feel my heart skip a beat. I quickly remind myself that we're just friends, and that any romantic notions are futile - after all, he's likely from a wealthy family, and- I quickly shut down that thought.

I force a smile and tease, "How the tables turn."

"Unfortunately, unlike a little someone here, I still have to work." He punctuates his point with a gentle boop on my nose, and I can't help but laugh at his lighthearted jab.

Zane's expression turns serious as he stands, pulling me up with him. "Let's go," he says, his tone leaving no room for argument. I feign reluctance, "I don't wanna," but he just snickers and drags me to my office.

As we enter, Zane makes himself at home, sinking into my chair like it's his own. I shoot him a mock glare, but he's unfazed. With a sigh, I surrender and sit on his lap, rationalizing that friends can share a comfortable proximity, right? I mean, movies have taught me that much.

Zane activates my hologlyph, and begins explaining the intricacies of building on this unforgiving planet. He breaks it down in simple terms, and I listen intently, fascinated by the process. Apparently, Gemma, the expert, needs to analyze the rock stability and surroundings in the lab before construction can begin. Her findings are then used by the builders to craft materials tailored to the planet's harsh conditions, and the architect incorporates her results into a design that can withstand the unforgiving environment.

As Zane speaks, I find myself grateful for his guidance, wondering how I would have navigated this complex process without him. His presence is a reassuring anchor, and I feel a sense of relief wash over me.

A soft knock on the door breaks the silence, and I invite the visitor to enter. Gemma walks in, looking a bit nervous, and greets me with a soft "Hey." I motion for her to take a seat in front of me, and she complies, fidgeting slightly.

"What brings you here?" I ask, curiosity getting the better of me. Gemma takes a deep breath before launching into an explanation.

"Well, to conduct the tests, I need access to a lab. The Interstellar Geologist Lab (IGL) is the best option, but it's quite expensive. I can explore cheaper alternatives, though."

I glance at Zane, expecting him to chime in, but he's chosen to remain silent, leaving me to navigate this conversation solo. I turn my attention back to Gemma, who's waiting anxiously for my response.

"What's the IGL?" I ask, intrigued by the mention of this prestigious lab. Gemma's eyes light up, and she launches into an enthusiastic explanation.

"It's the largest and most advanced geologist lab in the interstellar! It's a marvel of engineering, floating in space and harnessing the energy of nearby asteroids to power its state-of-the-art facilities..."

Gemma's excitement is infectious, and I find myself smiling at her passion. She catches herself, though, and composes herself, remembering she's in a professional setting.

"I'll review the list of labs and their prices, and get back to you," I assure her, and she nods, relief washing over her face. "Actually, I've already sent it to you," she says, flicking her wrist to activate her intercom. A few quick motions later, the data appears on my mail.

As Gemma scurries out of the office, I can't help but remark, "She's so cute!" Zane snorts in response, "Right, when you're the same size."

I bristle at the teasing, defending myself, "I'm not that short and tiny!"

Zane placates me with a soothing tone, "I'm sure it's just a matter of perspective, Siren." I huff, "I'm serious, you're just tall!" Zane chuckles, "Uh huh, sure."