He didn't need them, of course, but I made him get some from the store in town so people would think we harvested crops the same way everyone else did. By hand instead of by conversing with the trees and bushes and convincing them to gently lay their fruit in my cart. When I suggested he rub the gloves on a few trunks to get them dirty, he did so with a dazed expression. I tried to make him feel better. "You're not the only one who feels odd about this situation."
"Odd?" He stared at his gloved hands. "Is that what you call talking to trees? Odd? Even odder is that they listen and do what you want."
"I told you it's a gift."
He leaned one hip against the cart and took an apple and turned it every which way as if doing so would help him figure me out. "I wish I knew how it works."
I sank to the ground, crossing my legs as I went downward until I sat easily between a lovely apple tree and the cart it had proudly deposited apples in. And I tried to explain something no one in my family had ever explained before. "Think of the orchard as an orchestra. The trees want to make the best music possible and they are wonderful individually but they need someone to coordinate their efforts. To show them how to produce the best music … the best apples … possible. I know a lot about growing things so I have a lot of ideas and they listen to me."
"You're a botanist."
"I have a degree in botany and that helps, but mostly it's intuition."
"Like any good music depends on the ability of the musician as much as on their training."
"Exactly. So now you understand."
"Except for the fact that most people can't talk to trees. Or understand their language."
"There is that."
"You were born with that ability."
"It's the gene thing. My abnormal genetic makeup."
"The reason none of you were accepted as colonists."
Instead of answering, I leaned back and stared at the faux sky that was my new normal. Cullen slid down beside me and we sat in companionable silence for a while. Companionable? Cullen? I marveled that I was comfortable with him but I enjoyed his silence because I hate people who babble on just for the sake of talking.
I wanted to take his hand but didn't. Saw his hand move towards mine, then move back without touching. And thought about us because suddenly, unexpectedly, it felt like there was an 'us.'
Not Cullen. Not now, not ever. But some part of me kept asking 'if not Cullen, then who?' There was no one besides me on the Destiny with my abilities so marrying within my own kind wasn't an option. And the idea of a popsicle fathering my children made me shudder. So why not Cullen?
I shook my head, shaking the image out of my mind, checked the time, started the engine on the cart and we took our harvest to town where Cullen's presence was followed by stares and whispers much the way the passage of a shark is followed by a wave as it swims through the ocean.
We had lunch at the café with Wilkes Zander and his whole, extended family in what looked like a friendly gathering and was, in reality, a business meeting between the head of Security and the Mayor of New Rochelle, something everyone knew by then and respected. In this new world the colonists were creating, new norms were being created every day. Meetings were both social and business and it worked.
People gave the two men privacy even as Cullen pulled me close because I was his job and he wasn't about to let me get too far from his protective bulk. That bulk felt pretty good even though I'd just figured out that I should be avoiding him like the plague if I didn't want to find my emotions all tangled up and just being close seemed to do that. As for Cullen, nothing about our relationship was personal. He could do two things at once, hold me in a way that made us look like lovers and discuss business with Wilkes Zander.
I settled down and set about shoving Cullen from my mind as the two men talked. I'd long ago vowed to fall in love carefully because people in my family have power. Lots of power that could do terrible things if used unwisely. So I'd never let myself get serious about anyone.
But Cullen Vail was the epitome of responsibility. His children would be intelligent, responsible and stubborn. He was precisely the kind of father my children should have if the colonists were to thrive on whatever planet the Destiny reached. I glanced at him sidewise and pictured him as a patriarch. It was easy.
Then he and Wilkes Zander finished their conversation and the table erupted into conversation because the business part of the meeting was done and the visiting could commence.
The women asked Cullen what we should wear for the first ever upcoming visit from the Captain. Another meeting that would be both a social visit and an official function. It would be the first ever so no one knew what constituted proper attire. This meeting would set the protocol for all such future meetings so what to wear was important, at least to the women at the table. Cullen said stiffly that he had no idea what women wore.
Alicia's mother finally offered to ask a friend in Center City who knew Darlene Smithers what she planned to wear. We could all take our cues from the captain's wife. Remembering the quiet, artistic woman with an African violet in her hands, I wondered if we'd all end up in long, silky, artist-type dresses and whether the store in town carried such things.
Chapter Eleven
The Captain's wife asks a favor.
We did indeed wear sheer, long dresses, the kind the nearby store didn't stock because this was a farm town. But Alicia's mom got them for us in a rush trip to Center City. She had our sizes and we trusted her. She returned with a rainbow of colors. Mine was green. "Because you're a redhead and a farmer,"
"I love green," I replied, pretending to like it while thinking back to a childhood of being thrust into green outfits because I'm a redhead. I'd worn enough green to last a lifetime but I sighed and tried it on. Purple would have been lovely, or pink, but green it was.
The official part of the visit went smoothly with the Captain inspecting everything there was to inspect, which wasn't much, and smiling as if he knew what it was used for, which he probably did. Then he and Darleen retired to an empty apartment that had been turned over to them so they could dress for the evening's festivities, a dance in the town square.
Cullen and I changed in my apartment. Our apartment because we were joined at the hip. Soon after I was ready Cullen emerged from his bedroom in the stiff, black dress uniform that matched both his demeanor and his dark hair and eyes.
I had something to say, a request to make. I started innocuously. "The plants are healthy, the crisis is past. Everything is normal again."
He flicked an imaginary speck of dust from a sleeve, an unnecessary gesture because no dust would dare sully Cullen Vail's perfect image. "So?"
"So the Destiny is safe and so am I. It's about time you moved back to your house in Center City."
"I'll go when the captain orders me to and not one moment before."
"You could ask him tonight."
He muttered something unintelligible and I swished imperiously around his granite self, trailing green gauze, and headed for the door. He followed and slammed the door hard behind us. But I had made my point and in the process came to wonder why I'd ever considered him as father material. The man was impossible.
We reached the town square a little early, my diaphanous dress billowing against his black uniform. "I feel like I'm wearing curtains that should be decorating a window and blowing in the breeze."
"Except on the Destiny there is no wind."
"There should be. A mistake in planning. Plants need wind. It's how they communicate."
"There were no mistakes made when the Destiny was designed." His voice was stiff. "The best minds on earth designed her."
"Huh!"
We couldn't argue further because at that moment the captain and his wife appeared. The pink and white cloud that was Darlene Smithers in an even more diaphanous dress than mine saw me, veered from her husband's arm and made a beeline for us. For me. Her eyes bored into mine, then drifted towards Cullen.
&
nbsp; Cullen read Darlene's expression. "She wants to talk to you. Alone." He looked around uncomfortably. "But I stay wherever you are."
I followed his gaze around the town square. "See any thugs who want to snatch me?" I swung my arm wide. "No one is out to get me because I don't need protection." He scowled as I pointed to Captain Smithers watching his wife walk towards us. "The captain isn't busy. You could ask him to rescind his order of protection." I rose to my tiptoes and gave him my most truculent stare. "You can still see us and have your gun drawn in case someone tries to abduct me."
He patted his holster and grunted as Darlene reached us. Stared at him pointedly as she raised one eyebrow and waited for him to leave, knowing that as the captain's wife her slightest wish would be obeyed. Cullen scowled again, gave me a black look that said I'd better not try to ditch him, and then he sauntered a few yards away.
Darlene sniffed. "Your boyfriend is the strong, silent type."
"He's not my boyfriend."
"That's not how it looks to me." She bit her lip to keep from laughing. "Strong and silent isn't a bad kind of man. I'm married to one of the worst, but I suspect Cullen and my husband are identical in that respect." I agreed politely and waited to find out what she wanted. Something was on her mind. Her next words proved me right. "Is there somewhere we can talk? Somewhere private?"
We found a couple of lawn chairs that had been set out for people to watch the dancing. We pulled them a discreet distance from the growing throng. Cullen moved fractionally to keep us in sight and the captain followed. They spoke. I wished I knew what they were saying. Perhaps I would get my wish and Cullen would be reassigned.
Darlene Smithers next words sent all other thoughts from my mind. "I know what you did. I know you saved the Destiny. Not many people know, I'm one of the few who do. You deserve accolades and I thank you for my life and the lives of all of us." I waited. There was more, I knew it and after a long pause, it came. "After that meeting in our house when you brought back my African violet, I looked you up. You and your ancestors. The goddess Ceres. She was your ancestor, goddess of the harvest."
I nodded cautiously as she continued. "There's a lot of information in the Destiny library so I know that wasn't all Ceres could do." My breath slowed as I figured out where this conversation was going. "Ceres did more than make sure the harvest is bountiful." She unconsciously patted her flat stomach and I knew my suspicions were right. "Ceres was also the goddess of fertility."
Darleen looked down at her hands on her stomach. Stared at them. "We are childless." Realizing that I was watching, she withdrew her hands quickly. "We've tried and tried, but nothing has happened." Her eyes raised and met mine. They were filled with unhappiness and need. "I want a child who can become a part of the new world we are heading for." I now knew the reason for the longing in her eyes when we first met.
I gulped. "Those are just stories. They aren't true. Ceres couldn't wave a magic wand and make sure anyone became pregnant and neither can I."
"Yes you can. I know you can. It's in the record, Ceres is the goddess of fertility and you are descended from her so you have her powers. You can do it." She reached over and put a hand on my lap. "Please. I'm begging you." Tears welled.
Ceres got that reputation because she knew plants. She knew which ones could help infertile women. But the unhappy woman before me would never believe it was that simple. Nothing would convince her that I couldn't help.
I made a decision. I would go for it. I would do what Ceres had done. I would use my knowledge of herbs to help this woman. I knew how because I'd heard the stories growing up. Knew which herbs increased a woman's chance of conceiving, had heard the recipe discussed. Knew how to mix them to maximum potency. "I might be able to get some herbs that will help but there's no guarantee."
Her smile turned the night into day. "I knew you'd do it! I knew I could count on your help!" She rose, filled with eagerness and the sudden energy of someone whose life has turned around. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"
"Don't thank me yet. I need some specific herbs and I don't know where to find them on the Destiny."
"The greenhouses?" She leaned close, begging me to guarantee her a child. "They grow everything there."
"Maybe, but I don't work there. I can't just walk in and demand what I need. Unless you want me to explain what they are for." Which I was sure she didn't. She'd arranged a private meeting with me, she didn't want what she considered her lack to become public.
"I'll talk to Brian." Was the captain putty in his wife's hands? I decided he probably was, at least when they were alone. "He'll get you a job there." She waved her hands through the air as if painting a picture by Cezanne. "Brian will get you into the greenhouses." She wrapped her arms around me. "It's where you should be anyway."
My throat closed and I let her ramble on because, as zealous as Darleen Smithers was at that moment, there'd be no interrupting and no changing her mind. And as she finally let go of me, I resigned myself to working in the greenhouses, at least temporarily. I listened to her until, running out of words at last, she drifted off to find her husband and play the gracious hostess by his side.
When the band tuned up, they were surprisingly good. I wondered how that could be because I'd not heard anyone practicing until I realized that all apartments were sound-proof, a wise precaution on a ship no one could ever leave. Cullen, still scowling, steered me onto the dance floor and we proceeded to waltz, polka and do a few other dances I didn't recognize. Not that I truly recognized the waltzs or polkas either because Cullen's dancing had clearly been learned during a required officer training class instead of being an inborn ability. I felt sorry for his teacher and was grateful when the music ended. As we passed the band, it was all the guitarist could do to keep a straight face.
Later, in the apartment, I realized that the band had whetted my appetite for music but what I wanted to hear was pan pipes. "Cullen…"
"Yes?"
"Would you play your pipes?"
"I don't play them. I told you that. I just liked the look of them so when I won them in a game of craps, I kept them." His look forbade arguing so I drifted towards my bedroom. Then he threw me a bone because we both knew he was lying about not playing the pipes. "You looked nice tonight. That green thing is pretty."
"The kitchen curtains?"
"They look better on you than on a window."
A compliment from Cullen Vail? I was momentarily stopped in my tracks. Then I continued on because the night was done and it was time to go to bed. "I'm going to work in the greenhouses."
"Darleen Smithers? That was what she wanted to talk about? The greenhouses?"
"Yep."
"Why should she care where you work?"
I thought fast. "She knows I'm a botanist." I stepped through the doorway before he could say more.
But before I closed the door, he said, "You'll have no bodyguard at the greenhouses or anywhere else after this."
"You spoke with the captain?"
"I did. He agrees with you. The crisis is past. I'll make sure you have your own bike for transportation."
"And you'll have your own home again."
"Thank goodness." His tone of voice was unreadable so I couldn't gauge his relief at being free of me at last.
The next morning, he had breakfast ready as usual. Jelly donuts for me, a huge meal for him. His future children would start their day right while mine would barely survive.
I started my morning circuit of the room, nibbling as I walked. He said, "The captain called."
"Oh?" I licked jelly from a donut before it dripped on the floor.
Ramrod straight at the table he shoveled eggs into his mouth. "He's been busy. He must want you settled because you start work today. This morning." Juice went down quickly.
I had a job. A real job and had better get to it. "I'll take you to work today because you have no transportation yet but that bike I promised will be waiting when you get off work and keyed to your
comunit." Almost like home. A surge of homesickness swept through me but was quickly gone.
I stuffed the last of the donut in my mouth and swallowed. Time to get busy.
The greenhouse personnel were expecting me when Cullen and I walked through the door but the only person who acknowledged me was the head grower and his expression would have killed me if possible. I managed to smile while avoiding eye contact and looked around for some sign of acceptance among the handful of people standing and walking around while pretending not to notice what was happening.
One young guy about my age or a bit younger smiled until he realized he was the only one doing so. Then his lips turned down and he went back to his work, pruning bean vines, while keeping up with what was happening though quick, furtive glances.
"Now that you're here, what do you intend to do?" The head grower, I vaguely remembered his name as Constance Reiwer, spread his legs wide and put his hands on his hips. What had the captain told him? Did he think I was in charge? Surely not, but my being there set him off like fireworks. "Elle Omstead." The way he said my name made my heart sink. There are lots of people who hate our family because we are successful. Because success has been good to us. And they resent us for doing easily what they struggle to do. Constance Reiwer had undoubtedly heard about us and hated me because of my last name. And always would.
My voice squeaked. I hate confrontation and I'd never had to deal with this situation before, I'd always worked for relatives. "I was told to report to you." I stretched to my full five two and pretended I didn't know that he hated me. "What do you want me to do?"
He puffed his cheeks and looked me up and down as thoughts chased one another across his face. I was the captain's pet and, since the captain would undoubtedly be briefed every so often on my progress, he'd better give me something to do that sounded useful. But it also had to keep me out of his way and useless.
His eyes gleamed as the solution came to him. "I hear you've been picking apples." In one sentence, he put me in my place as a farmer instead of a scientist and came up with a job for me that no one could argue was inappropriate. "Check out the fruit trees. See if they are ready to be transplanted."
Earth Legend Page 12