Harvesting, just harvesting. She took a deep breath and then another to slow her heart and calm her nerves. What could go wrong with harvesting? Anna pushed the door open panel and got knocked right over onto her ass. She thrashed in panic for a moment until she realized she lay pinned under a humongous gesar bush which had grown up against the door. When the door opened, it fell on top of her.
Anna wiggled out from under the bush spitting out leaves which left a bitter, sharp acidic taste in her mouth, making her drool run and her gums sting. Dang, she’d gotten her ass whooped by a bush. She leaned over spitting out the drool she didn’t dare to swallow. She sure hoped the gesar fruit tasted better than the leaves. Think positive, think positive. Well, at least the darn thing grew a lot of fruit on it and I only need to carry it to the nearest processor.
Anna turned her head and looked at the processor, a couple of arm’s lengths away; her face broke into a wide smile. Wow! Talk about easy work! She started picking. She took the backpack off and used it as a carry basket. It took nine trips to clear the fruit from that one bush. Nobody had harvested this garden in ages. Then, she needed to cut the bush back quite a bit to allow the door to close.
Finally, when the door opened and shut freely, Anna realized she stood on the edge of a miniature jungle, limited only by and because of the walls holding it in. The plants weaved around, over, and under each other, growing up to nearly touch the ten foot ceiling. It looked as if someone took a ten acre garden and crammed all the life in it down to squeeze into this one and a third acre room.
Bushes thrust up towards the overhead lights in rounded humps of vibrant color; gesar with its oval, light-green leaves high-lighted with red-pulsing veins and yellow baseball-sized fruit; triangular, metallic gold-green leaves with mottled pink and peach veins decorated the savti bushes; thin, verdant, spikes of catronu bushes with prickly leaves covered with pale-yellow fine, sticky, hairs; and the belao’s dark-green, maple-shaped leaves with their prominent, bright purple veins and skinny, pink elongated-pepper-sized fruit.
Clumps of interweaving pretlo stalks with their multitude of tiny, triangular, leaves that were such a dark green that they almost looked black clustered around the bushes. Sprouting up around and through the bushes themselves, thin stalks of oesla that looked like corn except for the ears which squished down squat and fat almost as round as they were long and shaded a dull orange with tufts of bright, yellow tassels draping down the sides of the ears.
The scents oozed into her nostrils, lush and profuse, nearly overpowering, mingled all together with none of them recognizable. It smelled like a fruit stall, a bakery, and a greenhouse all at once. The air poured moist and heavy into her lungs with every inhalation. It felt neither cold nor muggy, but like the warm steam rising from a shower at the perfect temperature. And somehow a light breeze blew through the garden, causing the leaves to gently rustle.
Anna nodded to herself. Makes sense, you’d need good air circulation to insure pollination and to push the plant-made oxygen into the living and working quarters of the ship.
The plants grew so thickly that when Anna crouched down to peer at the ground, it looked like the shade under a mighty tree. Dusk lived at ground level. Yet, somehow there thrived an undergrowth layer of plants nurtured by the light shafts stabbing through the ever-rustling top leaves. Every centimeter of ground lay buried under a living carpet. The ground-hugging denua bushes looked almost brown in the low-lighting, but their vines that spread out in all directions threw off a luminescent, green glow that made the bright-red, zucchini-sized fruit easy to spot. Weaved in and amongst them pale-yellow catronu vines bore both broad round leaves and red-broccoli-shaped vegetables wherever vines from two plants intersected. The thick heavy kapedo vines grew crinkly two-foot wide leaves and oval-shaped, dark-brown, oily melons. The plants crowded in below just as tightly as they did above. A huge amount of produce grew in this garden, waiting to be harvested into a lot of nutritional food.
Anna smiled widely and went to work. She made paths by picking the oesla and pretlo and then chopping the stalks up. After a dozen trips to the processor of mostly stalks, she switched to harvesting the ground vines. She cut the denua and the catronu up ruthlessly, but carefully placed the kapedo vines out of the pathway. Once the ground lay bare and easy to walk on, she picked clean all of the belao and gesar bushes within arm’s reach.
Back and forth, she carried the produce in. From stalks to vines to bushes, back and forth she switched, unthinking and monotonous but satisfying work. Anna froze in surprise the first time she spotted a mouse-sized, lizard-shaped mewu. She marveled at how the diminutive creature blended into the background leaves and stretched its body up to nibble on a belao, immediately explaining why most of the low-hanging fruit wore rings of tiny holes. Even though they looked almost too cute to consider harming, Anna realized she needed to figure out how to trap them. Because after she picked all of the fruit, they’d resort to chewing on the plants, permanently damaging the garden. Maybe a mouse trap?
She kept at it for far longer than she realized. When she noticed the digital on the processor read five ninety-four, she realized over nine human hours had passed. Each Golsidan hour held a hundred and twenty minutes. She had kept her hunger at bay by nibbling on gesar and oesla. The gesar fruit possessed a sweet and crunchy flavor with a citrus tang. The oesla tasted like corn. But, it held an aftertaste reminiscent of plums. Now, she realized she felt both tired and thirsty. She washed up as well as possible. Dirt covered her, wetly clinging, giving her clothes a positively nasty look.
She headed back towards bed and hopefully Desvren. She wondered how she’d learn to cope with a day that lasted for thirty-four human hours. Desvren happened to be still sleeping when she got back. Or, she should say he had already gone back to sleep. She’d met up with Liso and Tava in the hall. They told her that Desvren and they had made rounds to the ship’s entire crew giving everyone vitamins.
Anna tried the lysordi drink. It really quenched the thirst. It seemed strange drinking a pale blue liquid that tasted sort of like a mild tea. But, she liked it enough to drink it despite its weird color. She tried washing off some more of the dirt and decided the next question for Desvren needed to be. Where is the shower? The bathroom only held a sink and toilet.
Anna grabbed a change of clothes and threw her dirties into the corner. Question number two on her personal list; “Where is the washing machine?” It seemed strange putting clean clothes on when she felt dirty. But, she guessed it had to be better than climbing into bed in dirty clothes. She clambered into bed. As soon as she wrapped up in her blankets and hugged her oversized pillow in Golsidan form, she fell asleep.
Anna started to wake up when her pillow sat up. Des rubbed her neck and shoulders, and she settled back down. The next thing she knew, she felt a jolt of shock so big that she jumped up in bed. The blankets flew through the air. Anna landed half on, half off of Desvren. She tried to miss landing on him and managed to lose her balance. Off the bed, she tumbled. She came to a stop flat on her back with a wadded up blanket under her ass. “What happ…en…ed?” She managed to stutter as she clambered to her feet. “Desvren, did I hurt you?”
“No. I’m sorry that I startled you.” He cocked his head quizzically. “Are you okay?”
“Umm… Ah...” Anna yawned. “Yeah, I’m fine.” She scooped up her blanket. “Where did my other blanket go?”
“Our company caught it.” Desvren pointed and smirked.
Anna turned to find the captain, the Phsatorae, standing at the bottom of the bed wearing her blanket, toga style. “I’m sorry about that Phsatorae.” Desvren’s trance lessons had taught her that the Phsatorae held dual positions as both the captain of the ship and also the head of clan Satorae.
The Phsatorae smiled. “My apologies, I am the one who startled Desvren and through him you. I’m pleased that only soft cloth lay in your hands instead of a stick. A good thing, huh, Desvren?”
“Yes, a very g
ood thing. She’s most dangerous with a stick.” Desvren chuckled.
Anna yawned so big that her jaw cracked. She climbed back onto the bed and tucked her blanket around her bare feet. Surprise surged through her when the Phsatorae walked over, laid her other blanket over her, and sat on the edge of the bed.
“I was talking to Desvren about the Agri-farm numbers I got in for this warm. It seems that you harvested a lot of food.” The Phsatorae stared at Anna.
“The garden I went to had remained un-harvested for a long time. It possesses an overpopulation of mewu. When I first opened the door, a gesar bush fell on me.” Anna felt Desvren twitch beside her. “I didn’t get around to digging savti. I need to get some gloves and a small spade, first.”
“I wondered if you’d help my people in garden Northwest 4 for a couple of hours.” The Phsatorae asked.
“Do they harvest in the cool, Phsatorae?”
“Please, unless we’re in formal settings call me Jao. Yes, they harvest in the cool usually between nine and eleven.”
Anna looked at the digital, six thirty-three. “Yes, I can go there this cool.”
“You can do more today. You don’t feel too tired?” Desvren touched her mind to mind.
“I only need a couple more hours sleep, Des. I wanted to ask you though. Where’s the shower, the washing machine, and what about an alarm clock?”
“What time do you want to get up?” Desvren pushed a button on the digital clock built into the top of the bed headboard.
“I want to get up at eight sixty, please.”
“It works by voice activation. Hold the button and say when you want it to go off. Release the button and it confirms the time.” Desvren lifted his hand and the clock in Anna’s voice said “Eight sixty” and then beeped. “The personal cabins hold the showers and washing machines. This, work cabin, usually gets used by the transport operators. If you want to, we can move into my cabin.”
“I’d rather you remain here. I may end up assigning you to a different cabin.” Jao said.
Anna felt Desvren stiffen beside her. When she reached for him mentally, she felt a roiling, bubbling, confusion mixed with a little fear. A fear because the Phsatorae possessed the power to separate them.
Anna locked eyes with the Phsatorae. “I plan to consider any of your decisions as personal recommendations and give them the deepest thought.” Her shoulders went back, her spine straightened. “But, I refuse to be separated from Desvren. If necessary for political reasons, I will make no public contact with my tai’twain. But, when I’m not working, you’ll find me in Desvren’s personal cabin. Wherever that cabin lies, if Desvren lives in it, so do I.” Desvren still sat tense and unmoving beside her.
The Phsatorae reached out and laid his hand over Anna’s. His mind touched hers. Through her, he felt Desvren’s confusion and fear. Anna felt Jao’s shock when he encountered her seething anger. She’d spent thirty-five years alone, waiting. Part of her knowing someone existed out there for her. Now, she sat beside that person, Desvren her tai’twain. She felt a connection with him deeper than she’d ever dreamed possible and she absolutely refused to give it up. She planned to fight tooth and nail to stay with him.
Part of Anna understood that Desvren and she experienced a different bond than what Golsidans normally had. That portion of her agreed that maybe not everyone would accept them. The Phsatorae needed to take that into consideration but, the rest of her snarled. He belongs with me and I belong with him. We are together. In her mind, a wolf stood between Desvren and the Phsatorae. Its front legs placed in a fighting stance. Its ruff bristled on edge. Its tail stood out straight and defiant behind it. Its lips curled back and growled a deep, vibrating warning.
The Phsatorae removed his hand. “You send strong mind images. I didn’t mean to distress either of you. Of course, you need to stay together. I just don’t know if I want you quartered with the medics or somewhere else. Desvren works as medic first, then agri-farm, and last spacemanship. You, so far, have shown a remarkable agri-farm ability. Thirty-nine agri-farmers worked in the Northwest garden this warm. They labored from two to four. In the same hours, you out harvested them by seventeen percent. I mean them as in add all of their harvests together and you still out produced them. Plus, that doesn’t count what you harvested before and after those hours.” Jao once again stared at Anna.
Anna licked her lips. “Is the Northwest garden under producing or over harvested? Wait, are they working on the second level beyond the ksenio tanks?” Jao nodded. “If I hadn’t already agreed to it, I wouldn’t go because of fear, plain and simple, complicated and debilitating fear. Takosund flourish un-hunted in huge size and population within your central garden. Your people feel weak. They know they stand no chance in a fight against takosund. Yet, they find the strength of will to harvest on the second levels where takosund can reach them. That takes great courage, captain.”
“You think they feel fear on the second levels?”
Anna swallowed hard and looked down. “They must feel fear out there, great fear. I almost decided not to harvest today. I stood with a knife in my shaking hand, because of one thought of takosund. I only entered the garden room after I made sure the electrical field operated fully. Maybe once I learn and practice more, I might hunt takosund. But, I need to learn everything possible about them first. I plan to possess other weapons first too, projectile weapons, a crossbow or compound bow.
I, who am healthy and fully nourished, refuse to go after takosund until I’m armed to the teeth. Yet, your people hungry and weak go every day into their territory. If they feel no fear, they should. I only hope that the overabundance of mewu means a plentitude of tasmewu. If the takosunds have abundant small game, hopefully, they feel no temptation towards weak big prey.”
“I considered none of this before. If the harvest rotation existed under your power, what would you do?” Jao inquired. “Jao asks, the captain listens to the reply, and the Phsatorae needs to carefully consider the response.”
Anna nodded, got up, and walked over to the control panel. She called up information and studied it. “Your people rotate through harvesting the garden rooms and upper levels in Northwest 1 to 4, North, and Northeast 1 to 4. I’d use them to harvest just the garden rooms with operational electrical fields and ask for volunteers for weapons practice. With at least a dozen marksmen in attendance, I’d make sweep harvests of the top levels of Northwest 1 through 4, North, and Northeast 1 through 4 to keep from losing them again to overgrowth.” She closed her eyes and thought it through out loud. “If you harvest all the garden rooms on the ship, you increase your acreage by more than fifty percent. The acreage lies secure behind the ksenio tanks and their electrified walkways. So, your people need not feel fear of takosund. Its overgrown acreage with a rich and heavy harvest, working without fear gnawing on them will give your people confidence in their ability to defend themselves. I’d even have practice drills for a retreat. Pair the people up when you harvest a top level. That way they each team up with someone to help if anything goes wrong.”
Anna opened her eyes and shrugged. “The increase you get in the harvest should take care of the undernourishment, allowing your people to grow strong again. With enough trained marksmen harvesting the other top levels also becomes possible. When you harvest a new top level, flood it with noise, flash the lights the whole cool and night before to scare off any takosund. First, cut the outside edge clear of any encroaching limbs, allowing the takosund to only come at you from ground level. That gives your marksmen clear shots because they stand above it on second level.” She looked up at Jao and smiled.
Anna went over to the processor and ordered up two full plates, a plate of gesar and oesla, and some lysordi drinks. She passed a full plate and drink to Desvren and sat the gesar and oesla on the counter. “Jao, please accept a gift of hospitality? It feels nice to have the company of friends.”
Jao took the plate and drink. “Thank you my friend, Anna Phwolfe.”
Desvren looked at Anna strangely and demanded. “What code did you just use on the processor?”
“Huh… oh, Wolfe code. Jao showed me that on the first day while you slept. It allowed me to process the meat.”
Jao shook his head. “The Phsatorae showed you, making it a command decree. Not an easy decision, but hopefully a worthwhile one.”
“You lost me. Desvren, please explain it to me?”
“I’m not sure that I understand.” Desvren said. “What is Wolfe status most honored Phsatorae?” Desvren asked.
“Wolfe now operates as a proposed sub-clan of Satorae. Initiated three days ago and endorsed by the Phsatorae to the clan Elders at six today,”
Desvren startled again and Anna nearly choked on an oesla. Much coughing, back pounding, and sputtering later, she looked accusingly at Desvren. “You need to stop doing that or else I am getting another stick.”
Jao howled with laughter.
Desvren looked at Anna sheepishly. “I’m sorry. Please, no stick?” Then he grinned slowly. “I changed my mind, stick.” He outright smirked and pulled her into his arms. “Yes please, stick.”
Anna’s temper evaporated as humor took its place. She laughed until her ribs hurt and tears ran down her face. Every time she thought about stopping, Desvren wiggled his eyebrows and set her off again.
“Enough....” She finally gasped. She stared at the wall instead of Des, until her ribs stopped shaking. “Okay. I forgive you for now. But, I plan to make you pay for my aching ribs.”
“Please, make me pay.” Des drawled.
Anna clutched her sides. “Des please, oh...” He reached out and laid a hand on her side. The pain faded away. “What startled you?”
“You have a month tai’twain to prove to the Elders that you possess enough worthiness, honor, and loyalty to be the head of a clan. All that you can use to accomplish this is; yourself, fifty percent of what your labor accomplishes, makes, or harvests; and what the Phsatorae endorses you the right of use to.”
Phwolfe Song (Golsidan Revival Series Book 1) Page 5