The Gardener of Man

by A. W. Cross

  Tor’s hair mingled with mine on his shoulder, silvered by his breath in the cold air.

  “What are you doing?” someone asked with my voice. Me.

  His grip tightened. “I’m taking you home. What were you doing out here?”

  “You’re hurting my head. And I’m perfectly capable of walking. Put me down. Why are you carrying me, anyway?”

  “Pax said you called out for him, that you might be in trouble. I came looking for you and found you passed out by an old log. I assume from the crosses and burnt earth that was where—”

  “Yes. And I’m fine. I told Pax I was fine. Now please, put me down.”

  Fane must’ve knocked me out. Motherf—

  Tor kept walking, his long strides eating up the ground. “Faster this way,” he muttered.

  “You just want to make sure I can’t run away. Or slap you.”

  “Slap me for what? I— Oh, Christ. How did you—?”

  “How do you think?”

  “I—”

  “It’s fine,” I said stiffly.

  “It was a mistake.”

  “It went pretty far for a mistake.”

  “Did you— No, you know what? I don’t want to know.”

  My anger suddenly fell apart. “No, I’m sorry. I know what you were feeling. I get all the way in here, remember?” I gently tapped his temple.

  “I remember. Still, it wasn’t exactly the way I wanted you to find out.”

  “So are you a couple, then? Did you go back?”

  “No. I— I mean, she’s great. She’s beautiful, she’s strong, she’s—”

  “Terrifying?”

  He stifled a laugh. “She’s not that bad. I do like her. I just…wish it hadn’t happened that way. I tried. I thought— I can’t live like this, with you.”

  “I’m not the problem,” I reminded him.

  “Ailith, we’re both the problem. What we are is the problem. You made your choices, I made mine. I can’t be with you if I don’t know that what I feel for you is genuine. And I also can’t be with someone who’d choose their power over my freedom.” He shifted my weight in his hands. “I thought that if I tried to move on, something would change. That I would feel different.”

  “And do you?”

  “No. Except now I have to find a way not to be an asshole to Kalbir.”

  “So we’re not together?”

  “We are not together.”

  “I cut the tether. Well, Oliver did.”

  “What tether? What do you mean? I know you can still control me.”

  “The one that keeps you from leaving. I can still control you, but I have to be near you. You can leave now, if you want. You have your freedom back.”

  He didn’t reply, but his arms tightened around me.

  I rested my head on his shoulder, and for a long time, we didn’t speak. He smelled of wood smoke and old blood, and I closed my eyes, pretending we were back in the woods, long before we’d ever come to the compound.

  “So, are you going to tell me what you were doing?”

  Fane. The necklace. “I will see you again soon.”

  “Shit! Where is it? Put me down. I have to find it!”

  Tor dropped me onto my feet. “Where’s what? What are you talking about?”

  “The necklace. I have to find the necklace.”

  “The one around your neck?”

  I snatched at my throat. There, so delicate I could barely feel it, was the chain.

  “What the hell is that?”

  “Remember when I thought someone was following us?” I told him everything. My father. Fane. My suspicions about Mil and Lexa. It felt so long since we’d properly spoken that I just kept talking, wringing out every idea I’d had about anything in the last week. We stood outside the copse of trees leading to the compound.

  “And they want to have their group meet with ours? A bunch of Cosmists? And they’re not trying to kill us? And who is this Fane guy? Can you trust him?”

  “I think so.” To my surprise, a warmth twined up my neck and bloomed in my face, fortunately invisible to Tor in the shadow of the trees.

  “Well, I think it sounds fucking insane.”

  “It must be a Wednesday, then.” I put my hand on his arm “Seriously, Tor, what about our lives isn’t?”

  He conceded with a shrug. “True. Okay. Are you ready to go in? Or should we just run away from here, right now. Go back to our cabin and forget the rest of the world exists and the end of the world never happened?”

  “Can we do that?”

  “No,” he said, cupping my chin and running his thumb over my cheekbone. “But every day I wish we could.”

  The thicket ended at the entryway of what must’ve been an old mine shaft. Rubble and debris had been placed in meticulous chaos, perfectly staged to draw an observer’s eye to a wide passageway at the back. The mining tunnel carried on, for how far I had no idea, but the overall effect neatly disguised the barely-visible alcove leading to our front door. We slipped though and, after a short, tunneled corridor, stood in front of the entrance to the compound. A red light slid up and down Tor’s face like eerie war paint, and I flinched, as I always did, expecting it to hurt. The locks slid back, and we stepped through, closer to our cabin than we’d been in a long time.

  ***

  “You did what?”

  “I spoke to my father. Yesterday. And he spoke to Asche.” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Cindra, still dressed for the outdoors, put her hand over her chest, shielding her heart.

  “And Cindra just happened to go to Goldnesse today? We told you to wait. You can’t trust them not to reveal you. Lexa and I—”

  “Have decided our fates enough. We won’t spend our lives hiding, cowering behind these walls. I believe I can trust my father. And if it turns out I can’t, well, I can’t trust you either.”

  Mil and Lexa exchanged glances, reminding me.

  “Oh, and if anything happens to either my father or Asche, if they suddenly die or disappear, I will kill both of you. No,” I said as Lexa glanced involuntarily at Tor, “I won’t be using Tor to do it. I’ll do it myself, using the nanites you created. They’ll crawl slowly through your veins, working their way toward your heart. You’ll lose control of your muscles. You’ll become deaf, blind, and mute. Your organs will fail, one by one. Your deaths will be excruciating.” Fear, mixed with something else, flashed across their faces. “Just ask Pax and Cindra. They’ve seen it happen. And if you’re thinking of finishing me off, Oliver will take my place.”

  A stunned silence followed. Every head in the room turned toward where Oliver slouched in his chair, one leg thrown carelessly over the armrest.

  Please, Oliver, back me up.

  He winked and spun his chair in a lazy circle. “What fun would life be without some stakes?”

  “I can’t be a part of this.” Cindra’s voice broke. She stood up slowly, tucking her chair neatly under the table. Her back rigid, she left, climbing the stairs toward the dormitory.

  Oliver looked as though he’d swallowed poison. Shit. I needed him to go along with me, but I knew who he would choose if it came down to me or Cindra.

  “Pax. Listen. What I said about Mil and Lexa, I was bluffing.”

  “I know. It wasn’t very good.”

  “Well, Cindra was convinced. I need you to go after her, tell her it’s not true. Tell her it’s just a bargaining chip, that’s its protecting Asche. Protecting us.”

  “Okay.” He leaned over and rubbed a smudge off the table surface with his sleeve.

  “Can you please do it now?”

  “I’ll go talk to Cindra,” Pax announced, nodding at Oliver as he pushed himself away from the table.

  Oliver relaxed back into his chair. Looking at me, he curled his lip.

  “So now that that’s been discussed, I have something for you.” I fumbled with the clasp of the necklace.

  Mil and Lexa stared at me as though I were an angel of death, come to take them to
Hell.

  “How could you threaten us like that?” she whispered.

  “What? You were perfectly happy to put a kill switch in us. Does your life somehow mean more because you consider yourself more human?”

  She blanched.

  “Look, I have no intention of actually pulling the trigger unless absolutely necessary, Lexa. It wasn’t a decision I made lightly. If you keep up your end of the bargain, I won’t harm you. You have my word.”

  “We have no choice,” Mil said.

  “No, you don’t. So, you’ll adapt. Now, on to the other thing I want to talk to you about. I met someone today, someone named Fane. And he gave me this. He said you would know what it meant.” I held the necklace out to him.

  Mil’s face grew pale, deepening the shadows under his eyes. The tremor in his hand made it impossible for him to grasp the slender chain, so I slid it over his hand to hang around his wrist. He lifted it, watching it twirl in the light of the little moons.

  “It’s not possible,” he whispered.

  “Mil, what is it? Sit down.” Lexa fussed over him, guiding him into the closest chair. He sat down, hard, the tiny robot bouncing in protest at the end of its leash.

  “Lien,” he said.

  That one word had more power over Lexa than even my threats. She sank into the chair next to Mil, her hand at her throat.

  “Who’s Lien?” asked Kalbir. I’d forgotten she and Tor were still in the room. When we’d first come in the door, she looked like she’d been sucker-punched. Now, she seemed to have regained her equilibrium.

  Yes, Kalbir, I’m perfectly capable of ruining whatever relationship I have with Tor on my own, thank you very much.

  Mil took his time answering her. “Lexa and I used to work with Lien and her partner Ethan, back when we were just beginning to understand how to build the brains that would one day be used to create artilects. We had some…differences of opinion. They were ruthless, determined to create artilects, no matter the cost. We advocated a more conservative, ethical approach.”

  “You? Ethical?” Oliver interjected.

  Mil ignored him. “It caused a rupture in our partnership. That was when Lexa and I began to develop what you are today.”

  “You mean you were once Cosmists?” Kalbir’s voice was incredulous.

  “Well, we didn’t really think of ourselves like that. Like I said, our approach, both in method and outcome, was far more moderate. I haven’t spoken to Lien in many years, long before the war. Did she tell you how I was to contact her?”

  “On the radio. She said you would know.”

  He nodded slowly.

  “Fane said they’ve been living in Goldnesse for years. They saw us with Lexa the other week and figured it was time to meet.”

  “What do you think they want?” Tor asked.

  Mil sighed, twisting the metal man in his fingers. “I honestly have no idea. I mean, I can think of many reasons, and none of them good. But what her motives are, I couldn’t begin to guess. We’ll ask them to come here for the meeting.”

  “Here? You can’t be serious.”

  “Tor, they already know where we live. At least here there’ll be no surprises. Besides, it’s either ours or theirs. It’s not like we can just grab a table at Tim Horton’s, is it?”

  “God, I miss Tim’s,” said Oliver dreamily. “I would murder you all for a double-double right now.”

  “I don’t like it,” Tor said.

  “Me either, but I don’t think we have much choice.” Mil’s voice was heavy. “If we don’t respond, that will give them an answer we don’t want to give.”

  “So we’re throwing a party?” Kalbir asked.

  “Yes,” Mil replied, “it looks like we are.”

  Mom and Dad think I don’t know, but I’ve heard them talking about it. A village, all dead. They’re saying animals did it, but if that were true, why are people growing more suspicious of each other?

  —Love, Grace

  I tugged down the hem of my tea dress, wishing the skirt wasn’t so short. By pre-war standards, it was conservative, swirling just above my knees, but after wearing nothing but pants for weeks, I felt partially undressed. Kalbir had insisted we all get dressed up, and she’d been flitting about the compound, arranging food and decorations, and scrubbing the mosaic floor until it gleamed.

  “You realize they may be coming here to destroy us,” I’d told her. If she suspected me of having anything to do with her romantic interruption the other night, she didn’t show it. She seemed as cheerful as ever, treating me the way she always had.

  “Don’t be so melodramatic, Ailith,” she’d replied. “It’s not always about you, or about someone destroying someone else. And even if they are, at least it won’t be boring.”

  A light knock sounded on my door.

  “Come in,” I called as Cindra slipped inside, shutting the door behind her. “Hi.”

  “Oh, Ailith, you look stunning!” she exclaimed.

  “I feel ridiculous,” I admitted. “I mean, it’s nice to wear something pretty for a change but…I don’t know. What’s wrong with me?”

  She laughed. “Nothing. I get it. It does feel a bit odd to put makeup on after an apocalypse, but it’s also kind of fun. What do you think?” she asked, shimmying across the floor.

  “I think you look amazing.” And she did. She’s chosen a body-hugging, knee-high dress the deep purple of a ripe plum.

  “Do you think Oliver will like it?”

  “He’d be crazy if he didn’t. Do you want him to like it?” Whatever Pax had said to Cindra the other night after I’d threatened Mil and Lexa must’ve been good. Like Kalbir, any stiffness I’d expected between us hadn’t happened. I’d wanted to talk to her, but her door had been closed and the lights off.

  Instead, she’d come down to my greenhouse in the middle of the night, clutching two steaming mugs.

  “Here,” she’d said, handing me one. “It’s supposed to be hot chocolate, but the expiration date was before the war.”

  I’d taken a tentative sip. It was disgusting, like pure sugar with a hint of mildew. “It’s delicious, thank you.”

  “You don’t have to lie,” she said. “I’m not mad at you.”

  “No?” I asked. “I wouldn’t blame you if you were. Look, I know I seem like I’m—”

  “Becoming a raging monster?” she asked. “I’m joking,” she added hastily as my mouth dropped open.

  I almost managed a smile. “I know, but—”

  “I appreciate what you’re doing for Asche, for us. It’s not the method I would’ve chosen, but that doesn’t mean you’re wrong. To be honest,” she’d leaned closer, whispering conspiratorially, “I was more upset about how Asche reacted to me being alive than the thought that you might kill Mil and Lexa. Isn’t that awful? But I’m starting to think you and Oliver might be right about them. Besides, I know you could never be that cruel.”

  I hope you’re right.

  She’d winced as she sipped from her mug. “Is that wrong? I mean, Asche is married, but even if he wasn’t…too much has happened, has changed. I’ve changed. And at least Oliver understands what I am. It’ll avoid a lot of awkwardness. Besides, he’s hot. And smart, and nice, when he wants to be.”

  “Please stop,” I’d groaned, “or I may have to start liking him.”

  Now, in my room, her eyes sparkled. “Tell me about this Fane.” She tactfully avoided mentioning Tor. “Is he gorgeous?”

  “Cindra! He’s— Okay, yes, he is, but—”

  “I knew it,” she crowed. “I knew there was something about him that threw you for a loop.”

  “Cindra, it’s not what you think. He’s—”

  “Knock, knock,” a voice said from the open doorway. Kalbir stood there in a glittering black dress with a plunging neckline, every curve on glorious display. She grinned as we looked her up and down.

  “I know, right?” She pivoted slowly, finishing with a flourish. “No Cosmist can say I’m an abomin
ation. And you two look…nice. Cindra, Lexa wants to talk to you. Something about some extracts you were looking for?”

  “Oh, right,” Cindra said. She put her hand on my arm. “Can we talk later?”

  “Of course,” I said, squeezing her hand. “I’ll see you downstairs.”

  Before Kalbir could follow her, I asked, “Can we talk?”

  She rolled her eyes, but stayed, shutting the door, and leaning against it. “Sure. Talk.”

  “I’m sorry about the other night, with Tor,” I began. “We’re not together. I know it must’ve…” I stopped, unsure how to continue.

  “Don’t patronize me. I know you’re not together. And I also have my suspicions about the other night.” She flexed her fingers at the memory. “But you know what? It’s fine. Yes, I like Tor. But I also like myself. If he’s not interested, fine. I’m not going to waste my life pining over him. And if he is…well, then you might want to invest in some earplugs. If he really is my counterpart, like Oliver said, he’s going to have a lot of stamina.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said. And I meant it.

  “Whatever. Now that that’s settled, maybe the rest of you can stop treating me like the enemy and more like the ally I’m supposed to be.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said again. “It’s just that Tor and I—”

  “I understand,” she said and opened the door. “By the way, that shade of green really suits you. Your dress, I mean. Now hurry up, our guests will be arriving any minute.”

  My face burned for a long time after she left. She was right. We were allies, and I’d been nothing but standoffish with her since the beginning. Is it just about Tor, though? Or something more? Neither of those options sat well with me.

  Pax saved me from wallowing in self-pity and shame by poking his head through my door on his way downstairs.

  “Pax? Can I ask you something?”

  “Of course. Did you know that everyone is arriving?”

  “I know, I’ll be down in a minute. Did I…did I change the future by talking to my father? By bringing that necklace to Mil? Have I taken us off the path somehow?”

  “No. You’re still who you are, and that’s what you were always going to do. We can still avoid that future.” His face turned serious. “Do you know what an hors d’oeuvres is?”