Hothouse

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Hothouse Page 9

by Stephanie Mylchreest


  “Ben,” says my mother. “How is Ada?”

  Ben walks closer to us and stands above us. “She spoke to us for a little while. She’s disoriented and emotional and in a lot of pain. Our medics gave her more pain relief, and she has fallen back asleep.”

  “I’m glad you got to speak to her,” replies my mother. She reaches up and squeezes his hand.

  I watch them silently. Ben looks at me with a curious expression on his face, and then tells us, “Mary’s called a meeting. Can you come back inside the camp, please?” Standing in the towering, ancient forest, he reminds me so much of Ada it takes my breath away.

  We stand and I follow mother to the gate, keeping my head down when I pass Ben. The meeting is outside by the vegetable garden. Commander Rothman is standing in front of a big group. There must be more than five hundred people here now. The group comprises mostly the people from the station but numerous forest people have converged on the camp too.

  “Friends,” says Commander Rothman. I notice she has traded her black station clothes for the loose clothes in shades of green and brown favored by the forest people. Her red hair shines brilliantly in the sun. Every eye is on her waiting for her next words.

  She looks over everyone and smiles. “We will be leaving tomorrow to secure the fuel stocks for the benefit of us all. To the people of the forest, and our friends from Martha’s Vineyard, please know that we are you, and you are us. We do not consider ourselves separate from you.”

  There are appreciative comments from the crowd. Mother gives me a meaningful look, which I ignore. The crowd is thick but I eventually see Delphine, Abigail and the others. I hurry over to them.

  Patrick is there and he gives me a wry grin. “Looks like we are on the road again,” he whispers.

  “Maybe,” I reply.

  Patrick frowns but I pretend not to notice and tune back in to Mary’s words.

  “... children and anyone else who doesn’t feel they can contribute meaningfully should stay here at the camp. The rest of us must now prepare to depart on foot first thing tomorrow. Thank you everyone. The end is near. A new age will begin soon for us all.” Mary looks flushed and her voice is exhilarated.

  There is a light smattering of clapping and people begin to speak in hushed whispers between themselves before dispersing.

  Millie is watching me. I force a smile. “What do you make of this?” I ask her.

  “It’s a good plan. Washington and the gangs have had all the power for too long. It’s about time that we take some back.”

  “But more of us could die,” I say.

  “We could die at any time, at least we are fighting for something worthwhile,” she retorts.

  “Did you tell Sally’s husband and children that she died for something worthwhile?” The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them.

  Millie looks at me angrily. “Did you tell yourself the same when you thought you killed Ada?” she hurls back. A sudden quiet settles over our group. Millie’s words kick me hard.

  “That’s not fair, Millie,” says Abigail.

  “Of course it’s fair, Chris allowed Apollo to try to kill Ada in cold blood.”

  “He thought he was doing the right thing by trying to stop the station,” replies Abigail. Her eyes are steely and locked on Millie. Millie glares back at her. The tension in our small group is ratcheting higher and higher.

  “I don’t need you to fight my battles please Abigail. And yes, Millie, I’m still not entirely convinced about any of this. These people claim peace yet are preparing to seize the petroleum stocks by force.”

  “Don’t start with this again,” says Millie angrily.

  Patrick puts a hand on her arm to calm her and he looks at me pleadingly. “Chris—”

  “I don’t want to talk anymore,” I fume, cutting him off.

  I storm away in the direction of my hut. I’m going to pack a bag and then I need to find Birch. If she is prepared to leave with me, we can go tonight. We can head up into the mountains or anywhere else she wants to go. I just want to be away from all of them.

  I push open the woven reed door and am startled to see Ben sitting on one of the floor mats. I freeze in the doorway and stare at him. My senses are on high alert. I can’t think why he is here in my hut.

  After a few beats, I ask him, “What are you doing here?”

  His face searches mine. “We need to talk.”

  “What about?” I sigh loudly. Even though I deserve this, I can’t bear any more talk about Ada right now.

  “I want to talk about the plan to hike to the petroleum stocks.”

  His words take me by surprise. I stand in the doorway a moment longer staring at him.

  “Please, come inside and shut the door before anyone sees us,” he says.

  I step into the dim hut and the door swings lightly shut behind me. Ben pats the mat next to him. I sit down and wait for him to speak.

  “What do you make of all of this?” he asks me. His mouse-brown hair flops in his eyes. He brushes his hair away and looks at me wearily. His eyes are ringed by dark circles.

  “It’s a foolish plan,” I reply. “But I don’t want to be drawn into any debate. I won’t cause you or your people any more trouble.”

  “I’m glad to hear you say that. I feel the same.”

  I’m shocked and stare at him opened mouthed for a moment. “What do you mean?” I ask.

  “Ada didn’t come down to Earth and suffer the way she has for my younger children to become orphans while Mary and I get caught in the crossfire of this ridiculous war over fuel.”

  I look down when he mentions Ada’s name. When he finishes speaking, the hut plunges into silence. I’m suddenly keenly aware of the loud beating of my heart. This feels like a dangerous conversation.

  “We’ve got by pretty well without access to fuel,” I say evenly. “I can’t really see the appeal. I’ve experienced both and I don’t think Yanx or the Washingtonians are any happier than you or me for having electricity and tech.”

  Ben looks at me for a long time. I turn away, he’s making me uncomfortable but I don’t have any right to make him stop. Finally, he asks me the question I’ve feared, “Why did you shoot Ada with the quarrel? Why did you let Apollo stab Ada with that knife?”

  I inhale sharply. “I can’t answer that, Ben. It was a huge mistake. I’m sorry.”

  “That’s not good enough,” he replies slowly, an edge to his voice. I lean away from him, desperate to put some space between us. Is he going to kill me? Is this a trap?

  “I thought about it,” he says, reading my mind. “I thought about killing you, or hurting you. An eye for an eye, so to speak. A son for a daughter. But your mother and I have become close. I don’t know if I could do it to Ellie.”

  “What do you want from me?” I ask him.

  “I want you to help me end this.”

  “Whatever you want,” I find myself saying.

  This is to be my atonement.

  Chapter Ten

  Sally, who had two small children and a husband who loved her, died trying to help Ada get to Washington. Her death has been weighing heavily on my mind. I wish we had been able to recover her body and at the very least, give her a proper burial.

  The night is drawing to a close and the first fingers of dawn are creeping slowly over the horizon. Someone came to our hut and called out loudly a short while ago. But we were already awake. We barely slept last night. As the silver circle of the moon shone dimly through the curtained windows, I could hear Rich tossing and turning in the bed next to mine.

  Today is the day. In a few moments it will be time to leave for the location of the fuel stockpiles. I’m nervous but ready.

  Rich has his head down and is busy putting his few small belongings into a pack.

  “What do you think they did with Sally’s body?” I ask him.

  He pauses with his knife in one hand. “Why are you thinking about that?” he asks me.

  “I don’t kno
w. I guess we never had any closure. She just... died. The finality of it all is hard to get my head around. Like, what is the point of all this? Why are we involved in a war we have no vested interest in?”

  “I think about Sally too,” he says slowly.

  “How many more of us have to die? Is this worth our lives?”

  “I can see why you think that,” says Rich carefully. “But can’t you also see how this is bigger than all of us?”

  “Bigger than Sally’s life? Than Marissa’s?” I ask him.

  Rich looks at me for a long time. His face is the mirror image of mine and—as I often sense when discussing serious topics with him—there is the surreal sensation of staring at my own reflection.

  But when Rich speaks, it seems for once we fundamentally disagree.

  “Yes,” he finally says. “I think this mission—our support of the station—is bigger than all of us. Have you learned anything about Project Renaissance since we arrived at the camp?”

  “I know the original people on the station took a lot of information up there to safeguard when things turned crazy down here on Earth.”

  “Did you know humans have been around for more than two-hundred thousand years?”

  “No,” I say.

  “Then I bet you didn’t know that the Earth is four and a half billion years old.”

  “Of course not,” I say. My voice is terse. I’m beginning to feel annoyed.

  “Did you know we caused the Earth’s climate to change by releasing gasses into the atmosphere and that we caused most of this catastrophe in the space of a single generation, when we already knew the risks?” Rich’s voice is incredulous. Outside I can hear others leaving their huts, ready to start the mission.

  “Get to the point,” I say.

  “We destroyed all of human progress knowingly. We could have stopped, we could have saved the Earth from plummeting into a burning abyss, and we could have saved its biodiversity. But we didn’t. Humans caused the apocalypse that almost wiped us all out.”

  “Yes, I’ve heard this story a few times now,” I say to him.

  “But what you haven’t realized, brother, is now we have a chance to make some reparations.” He fishes in his pack and pulls out a small square bundle.

  “I bought this with us to the mainland and I’ve been carrying it ever since.” He hands me the package and then puts one hand on my shoulder. He looks at me intensely.

  “What is it?” I ask, pulling off the paper.

  It’s the book I stole from the New York State Library: The Catcher in the Rye.

  “It was in Elder Spool’s store. Do you remember?”

  “Yes, I remember.” I flip the pages of the damn book which keeps popping up everywhere.

  “The Collection has everything, Chris. There are millions of books, on every subject conceivable and even books to read for pure enjoyment. They keep most in digital format but they bought some paper books down from the station, too.”

  “We never had books growing up.”

  “That’s right. And look how ignorant the elders managed to keep us. But it’s not just the books. They have art. Beautiful art. Paintings like you’ve never seen, painted by artists hundreds or thousands of years ago.”

  I sit down on the low bed and hold the book in my hand. Rick keeps talking.

  “The people from the station have an explanation for almost anything you could think of. We used to know so much. They could even tell you why the sky is blue. They could tell you about our solar system, which is what they call the planets orbiting the sun. This is knowledge that is worth fighting for.” Rich’s impassioned voice trails off and he looks at me expectantly.

  “Washington has this too.”

  “Yes, but they aren’t sharing it with anyone, are they?”

  “That’s true.”

  By unspoken agreement we stop the discussion and finish packing our bags in silence. I take the gun given to me by Yanx and slip it into a holster. Then I pick up the water bladder made from leather that was gifted to me by the forest people. I hold it for a moment. It’s so carefully made. It’s perfect.

  “I made a mistake letting Apollo hurt Ada,” I say in a low voice.

  “I know,” says Rich.

  “I’m going to make it right.”

  “I know.”

  He hugs me and I notice the tears in his eyes. I want to say more but the words catch in my throat and I can hear others bustling outside ready to leave.

  I grab the book and we step out into the cool, dawn morning. The air is yet to be warmed by the sun and tiny beads of dew rest on every surface. “Give me a minute,” I say to Rich. “I’ll see you at the meeting place. I need to say goodbye to someone.”

  I stride quickly to Ada’s hut and call from outside, “Ada, it’s me Chris. Can I come in?”

  There’s no sound from inside. I push the door open a crack and peer into the darkness. “Ada,” I whisper. “Are you awake?” There’s no reply so I step quietly into the room.

  The machine by her bed continues to whirr and flash and Ada lies on the bed. As my eyes adjust, I can see the almost imperceptible rise and fall of the white sheet as she breathes steadily. I turn over the book in my hand and place it on top of the machine.

  “Goodbye, Ada,” I say softly.

  I’m turning to leave when her voice croaks out. “Can you get me some water?”

  I spin around to face her and see her eyes shining in the meager light. “Sure,” I whisper. There’s a carafe of water and a wooden mug on a small table against the wall. I pour the water carefully and carry it over to her. I help her sit up and she drinks thirstily.

  “Are you leaving with everyone today?” she asks me.

  “Yes. The group is leaving now. I don’t have a lot of time but I wanted to see you to say goodbye. Also, I don’t know if I will be back. Please know how sorry I am about everything.”

  Ada smiles at me. “I’m sorry I sent you down that dead end in Washington.”

  We both laugh softly. “Take care, Ada.”

  “Take care, Chris.”

  When I step outside and the door closes, I wonder briefly if I will ever see Ada again. Ada—the girl who fell from the sky and changed the course of my entire life.

  But the bubbling sounds of the gathering group pull me from my reverie. With one last glance over my shoulder at Ada’s hut, I hurry to catch up with Rich.

  There is a group of approximately seventy of us congregating by the vegetable gardens and waiting for the signal that it’s time to leave. There is a mix of people from the station and the forest, as well as our small group of insurgents from Martha’s Vineyard.

  Everyone is keen to go, the anticipation palpable. I scan the group quickly and find my friends. Everyone is there except for Abigail and Delphine. Birch kisses me sweetly when she sees me, and Rich raises an eyebrow behind her back.

  “Where are Abigail and Delphine?” I ask them.

  “We haven’t seen them yet,” replies Rich.

  We wait a few moments but there’s no sign of them. “I’ll go and check on them. Don’t leave without me.

  Once more I’m running back through the camp, but this time towards Abigail and Delphine’s hut. “Guys, are you in there?” I yell. “Everyone is leaving soon. We need to go.”

  The door swings open and Abigail looks at me from the other side. She looks nervous. “Chris,” She says, “I’m glad you’re here. Delphine is upset. I can’t get her to leave the hut.”

  “Can I come in?” I ask.

  “Sure.” She stands to one side so I can pass through the doorway.

  I find Delphine sprawled out on one of the low beds. Her face is red from crying.

  “What’s going on?” I ask her. “Are you okay?” I kneel on the ground next to her.

  She takes out the tablet and types.

  I don’t want to do this again. We are constantly pushing for something else. I’m tired.

  “You can stay here and rest,” I offer. �
�You don’t need to come. You and Abigail can both stay here.”

  It’s not my body that’s tired, it’s my soul.

  As I read her words, I begin to tear up and I wipe my eyes hastily with my sleeve. Abigail reads over my shoulder and when we look at one another, I know Delphine has captured our feelings perfectly. “All of it, it’s taken a terrible toll. So much has happened since Delphine and I left Martha’s Vineyard the first time,” I say to both of them.

  Delphine is sitting up now and Abigail and I sit down on either side of her, each taking one of her hands.

  “I’ve been thinking we need to go back to Martha’s Vineyard.” I say quietly. “We have unfinished business there. After we finish this mission, I have a few more things I need to do and then we will go home. We can right this. We can finish what we started, which was to save the people on the Island from a destructive sea level rise.”

  “We can do that now,” adds Abigail. “We have more than enough evidence from the people on the station.”

  Delphine looks at me intently. My heart leaps and I suspect she will always have this effect on me. She taps out a note.

  I need that. I need to go back.

  “I promise we will go back,” I tell her. “I promise all of us will go back.”

  I stand up and smile at them both, offering them one hand each. They grasp my hands and I pull them to their feet. For a moment we stand there, the three of us, linked together.

  I envelope Delphine in a hug.

  Abigail and I look at one another, a lifetime of shared memories passing between us. “Chris—” she starts to say.

  “Let’s not talk right now,” I say. “I know there’s so much we need to talk about. But not now.” I hug her, her wild black hair tickling my neck and face as it always has. Some things in life are so hard and complicated, and other things are easy. Loving these two women will always be easy.

  “We better hurry or they will leave without us, and we’ll miss out on all the fun,” I say. Abigail and Delphine both laugh and the tension breaks.

  “Race you there,” says Abigail over her shoulder as she pushes open the woven reed door.

  We run hard through the camp and join the others. Commander Rothman is standing in front of everyone issuing some last-minute instructions. Rich grins at me and puts his arm around Abigail’s shoulders. “Glad you could make it,” he whispers.

 

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