by Celia Kyle
“Dawn? What’s wrong?” Vende was by her side in seconds, his big hands cradling her, and his arms supporting her while she trembled. She held her hands to her head, violently shaking herself.
“They’re screaming!” she cried. “They are screaming in pain!”
Carla emerged from the forest, hurrying over to Dawn. Grace stood back, her arms pressed to her sides as if she didn’t want to approach.
“Dawn,” Carla said gently. “Take a deep breath. There you go. Now, help us! Tell us what to do.”
Dawn took in another breath but pulled a face as if it tasted bad. She coughed and looked up, seeing the thick haze that hung in the air.
“Where are the atmospheric controls?” she asked, covering her mouth. “Why are you pumping this place full of carbon dioxide?”
Carla frowned. “Plants need it to photosynthesize. I read somewhere you can encourage growth by giving the plants more to feed on.”
“Maybe when they are mature,” Dawn snapped. “But haven’t you noticed that your crawlers and larger trees are creating the perfect canopy?”
“Ah…” Carla looked at Grace for help. Grace just shrugged.
Dawn sighed. “This is a self-sustaining system. These established trees and hanging vines have been regulating atmospheric conditions for—well, a few years at least.”
“It was calibrated by our finest and most experienced gardener,” Vende said with pride.
“Where is he now?” Dawn asked sharply and Vende hung his head.
“He was killed in one of the early attacks on the ship. When War Master Jarek and so many others were injured.”
Dawn sighed. The air was foul. It tasted bad and felt thick in her lungs. Her eyes were stinging, and dizziness assaulted her.
“The only reason the established trees are still alive is because of their age. They won’t last much longer.” Dawn paused and closed her eyes. She sniffed the air, tilting her head. “All I can smell is sulfur. I should be able to smell damp earth. Nothing else. You have a chemical conflict in the air.”
“We were trying to make it rain,” Grace muttered. “It’s supposed to rain in here.”
“Not enough oxygen,” Dawn said firmly. “Why can’t I hear anything? You should have bugs, beetles, birds. They’re needed for healthy soil and natural cross-pollination.”
“We didn’t want insects affecting the yield, so we did a full chemical cleansing,” Carla said.
Dawn turned on her, disbelief making her jaw slack. “You did what?”
“We killed them—”
“A perfect eco system from another planet was in perfect working order and you murdered its support system?” Dawn cried. “You better pray these plants are compatible with earth microbes. Otherwise you just signed a death warrant for every Preor on this planet.” She rolled up her sleeves and retreated into the forest.
“Get those seedlings in a separate greenhouse,” She called over her shoulder. “I’ll be along shortly. Get a compost heap started. I’m going to find the atmospheric controls and check over the rest of this place.”
As she strode into the forest the others watched her go. Dawn muttered to herself—or perhaps the plants themselves—and had forgotten almost everything except the distress of these living creatures and how she could fix it.
“They are so lucky they have me,” she whispered with a self-depreciating smile.
The garden was in a terrible state, but it wasn’t beyond saving, not yet. She’d have to work fast, but she had every confidence she could restore the garden to full bloom and keep all the Preor safe.
Chapter Eighteen
Vende watched Dawn disappear into the forest. He had been in here before because every soldier had to turn soil and carry water at some time in his life. He could tell the garden was far less pleasant than it had been in the past, but he couldn’t understand why.
This left him in awe of his mate. What was this ability she had to understand how the plants felt? He had never thought of plants having feelings before.
The way she had walked quickly away from him left him feeling dismissed. Even though he still wanted to be by her side, he had been worrying about his duties on the ship and what would happen if he didn’t at least check in.
He took one last look into the forest and saw his mate standing at the foot of a tall tree. The trunk was massive in circumference and the top of the tree vanished into the light of the solar reflectors that transferred UV rays straight into the garden from panels outside the ship.
It was a Flame Tree, and back on Preor they would grow tall enough for a dragon to land in the highest branches. They lived to be hundreds of years old and were called Flame Trees because the hot sun scorched their outer leaves making them appear to be on fire, especially at sunset.
Watching Dawn at the foot of the tree triggered nostalgia in him. He had not thought it possible to miss Preor, but right now, he missed his home planet. He knew he would never fly his mate through the endless skies of his home, which meant this was probably the only part of his heritage she could really see and touch.
He turned and left the room, fighting with himself. He wanted to stay with her, but he knew his dragon begging him to claim her was making him so uneasy. She would be safe here and he needed to use his self-discipline without remorse. He couldn’t lapse in his duties as so many other mated Preor had done or he would never forgive himself.
He asked Penelope to transport him to the top of the ship. It was mostly bare, with only a small iron fence around the viewing platform. Wind screamed around the edges, the atmosphere all too thin as the ship hovered high above the tower. He stepped out of the small viewing deck and walked along the edge, looking at all the bare fastenings where his beloved training platform had been detached.
“Penelope, we need a new platform.”
“Yes, you keep telling me. I’m doing my best. I’ve been getting Lily to organize things, but we haven’t got it all on board.”
“I want it to extend out, just like it did before. We need to be able to take off and land at multiple points.” He gestured around the edges. “Just follow the model of the old one.”
“I’ve got a plan, Vende. I keep telling you that. Can’t you just trust me?”
He made a small sound that might have been a laugh. “Trust you? Maybe I could if we had started our relationship with mutual respect.”
Penelope laughed. “Whose fault is that?”
“Yours, obviously.” Vende smiled.
“Holy crap, Vende,” Penelope cried. “Are you, like, actually having a humorous exchange right now?”
“I think I might be,” he said thoughtfully as he paced back toward the main deck, thinking. “Take me down to the main training room. Thank you, Penelope.”
The light of the teleport sank into him as he was moved across the ship in the blink of an eye. The training room was empty now that it was late afternoon and he was happy to see the equipment put away and cleaned. The mats had been rolled up and all the weapons returned to their proper places.
“Whatcha thinking, Vende?” Penelope asked.
“I am not sure.” He stroked his chin. “We train as we always have—with discipline and focus. But I wonder if some of the games humans play might be useful for coordination and stamina.”
“Do go on, Vende.”
“I have seen them on the tee-vee that the women sometimes watch. When they are not watching the bubbles, they sometimes watch… Football?”
“The bubbles?”
“Soap something,” Vende muttered. “Forget that. Tell me about this football if you know of it.”
“Yeah, well. I don’t know everything about it, but it involves chasing a ball and kicking it.”
“I think I got that part.” Vende grinned.
“How about basketball? Then you could use your wings.”
Vende took another look around the big space. “I have not decided yet. Such levity could damage the discipline of the soldiers but send me som
e reports on how the games are played and find some equipment.”
“Aye, aye, captain.”
Vende frowned but didn’t retort. He turned and left the room, hurrying through his rounds. He could not believe he had met his mate only this morning. The day felt like it had gone on for years. Even so, Vende found all stations to be manned, tasks completed and Preor all exactly where they should be.
A few small repairs hadn’t been handled correctly so Vende went out by himself with a few tools, realigning pipes and circuits as they passed through walls. He was turning screws back into place when he realized he was whistling.
“What’s the matter, Vende? Don’t recognize yourself?”
“I—” Vende went to make a retort mixed in with his confusion at her term. Of course, he recognized himself… And just like that the Knowing clicked into place and gave him the meaning. He smiled.
“You know what, Penelope? It has been a pretty good day.”
“Well, you found your mate. Of course, it’s a great day.”
“No.” He shook his head. “On that factor alone, the day is the first of the rest of my life. No, what I mean is… Everything has just flown smoothly. There have been no disruptions.” He shrugged as he headed for the command deck to check the transmitters.
“Maybe there’s no big, grouchy blue dragon getting in everyone’s way.”
Vende laughed. “You think I’m big?”
“Oh, Lord,” Penelope cried. “Don’t do this. I can’t take it. Just go back to being a poor dumb sap. I liked it much more.”
“Ha! I shall never be a ‘poor dumb sap’ ever again, and I will not take offense to that because I know it has nothing to do with the sticky stuff that comes out of a tree.”
Penelope laughed. He realized he had always accepted Penelope as a “person” even when he was fighting with her. Every day that went by she seemed even more real. Vende stopped and looked around, and then he did something he had never done before.
“Penelope, do you detect anything that needs my attention?”
Penelope stayed quiet for a few minutes.
“You trust me?” she asked.
“I trust you,” he replied.
“All systems are stable, Vende. I will put a few small repairs in the task log for tomorrow.”
“Thank you, Penelope. Do you think I can leave my duties now?”
“What the fuck is going on here?” Penelope whispered furiously.
Vende shrugged. “It just occurred to me that you are, quite literally, my ship. I fought against you all this time because I thought you took it from me, but all you did was give her a personality. I never fought with the ship before. Why should I start now?”
“Vende, you’re fucking scaring me.”
“Are you well, Penelope?”
“Yes, Vende,” she said warily. “I’m well.”
“Then you can take care of yourself for a while.” He set off jauntily toward the kitchens, hoping to find Dawn there. “Why do you need an engineering master when you have a ship that takes care of itself?”
Penelope laughed. The tinny, mechanical laughter sounded warm and very human to Vende’s ears.
“I don’t think you’ve yelled at a single person today, Vende.”
“I believe you are correct, Penelope.” He had never bothered much with music in his life, but as he walked down the hall, a tune came to his lips and he started whistling again in an effortless expression of contentment he couldn’t contain.
Chapter Nineteen
Dawn barely noticed the aching in her back and shoulders nor the sweat that poured down her sides. Her eyes were focused on the twisted roots of the plant she worked on, and she couldn’t be distracted by anything else.
She didn’t know what this plant was since it was native to Preor, but she knew it produced a compound vital for a rejuvenating serum. The poor thing was pitifully pot bound and in severe distress. If she didn’t separate the roots carefully, it would die.
The room was far too hot and humid now, but that was necessary. She had gone so far as to turn the environmental controls off, except for very low levels of solar radiation. The panels fascinated her. They absorbed UV rays from any source so the Preor could travel through space without depleting the supply. The humans could use some like this down on Earth. So far most solar panels didn’t store energy even half as well as the Preor’s.
Dawn wanted the big established trees and the ground cover in the rainforest to fix the air themselves—without further intervention. The best thing she could do for the eco system was let it return to its natural state. She understood the garden was already failing when Grace and Carla took it over, and they had to do something. She just couldn’t believe that “something” was so inept.
That’s the problem with little tweaks though. One too many and you’ve come so far you can’t find the starting point.
She eased a few feather-light roots from the packed sides of the dirt and carefully laid the plant on its side, rolling it gently to separate the solid bands of soil.
She easily tuned out the movement all around her and focused solely on her task. After she’d given her orders, Carla and Grace had called for help and now Preor were everywhere. They moved plants in wheelbarrows, realigned shelves and dug holes. Grace and Carla helped and gave directions but were careful not to touch any of the plants.
As the commotion died down a little, Dawn finally took a moment to look around and saw that the room had been transformed. All the stacked shelves had been moved into a new hot room that stood in the corner near the beginning of the rainforest. Closer to the door were worktables like the one Dawn used, set up solely for modifications and experiments. Further back in the forest she spied a few Preor digging holes. She would have to get out there soon and find a place for this little bush. She was confident it would survive now.
She raised her head and took a deep breath. Even though these conditions were good for the plants, it was very uncomfortable to human beings. She guessed it was for Preor, as well. There was too much oxygen and if she didn’t breathe shallowly she felt dizzy and high. The humidity was so bad it was as if she wore a wet sheet.
To encourage the plants to thrive, the environment had to have changes and spikes. Now that the artificial carbon dioxide was gone, the big trees worked overtime pumping out oxygen and converting more sunlight than gas.
The thick atmosphere this created made one thing—rain. She knew it would rain in the space eventually and the moisture created from this closed system would nourish all the plants within. After a day or two of flushing themselves out with UV and clean water, they would grow at full speed. Add some compost or fertilizer and they would increase their yield.
This is what I’ve worked for my whole life—to manage a complex system like this!
She couldn’t wait to talk to her family about this setup. Her dad could definitely use some pointers!
Just as she cleaned off the roots and looked up to find a wheelbarrow so she could move the plant, she noticed Grace watching her.
Dawn smiled bashfully. “I’m so sorry I yelled when I came in. I’m just very sensitive about plants and I react badly sometimes.”
Grace smiled and came over to the table. “I understand. To be honest, my ego got in the way a bit and I was upset. But I can feel the difference in the room already. You really have a gift, Dawn.”
Dawn stroked the leaves of the plant lightly with her fingertips. She spoke softly, looking into the greenery like she was seeing another world. “They sing, Grace. Whenever I talked about it before, my parents thought it was to do with my brain injury. Except, I’m all better now, and I can still hear them.”
“I’d love to know what’s going on in that brain of yours right now.” Grace smiled. “You sound like a medical miracle.”
Dawn shrugged. “I’ve gotten used to hearing that. It sounded like an insult back when I was in constant pain.”
“I’m sure it did,” Grace replied and looked a
way. She had seen doctors dismiss patients with chronic concerns many times. Far too many caregivers had an attitude of “if you aren’t dying, live with it.”
“The room was in turmoil, Grace.” Dawn prepared to move the plant, holding it gently by the roots. “How could you not feel it?”
Dawn settled the plant carefully into a cart and walked into the forest. Grace followed, trying to pay attention to how Dawn handled the small bush.
“I can feel it now,” Grace said. “Now that the conditions have made the plants happier, I can feel the difference. The feeling of loss and suffocation I felt before… I just attributed it to my failure at growing the plants.”
Dawn shook her head. “You’re a medical professional, Grace. How could you have screwed this up so badly?”
Grace looked at the floor, avoiding Dawn’s eyes. “Medical training has nothing to do with botany. I can process the plants, isolate compounds, and mix them to create new chemicals. My understanding of biology and chemistry allows that much. There isn’t much work on plants throughout biology studies, either. Nothing I had ever done prepared me for actually growing something.”
“You never had a garden? A house plant?”
“No garden ever. I killed a miniature fern once.”
Dawn laughed. “Oh dear.”
They found a spot between two big trees and settled the plant into the hole. Dawn went straight on to her hands and knees, running the soil through her fingers. She looked up at Grace, who was awkwardly holding a shovel. Dawn shook her head.
“You have to get your hands dirty, Grace.” She heaped the dirt against the plant’s main trunk, as if soothing a child. “You have to feel it. Then you can understand it.”
Hesitantly, Grace knelt down. She started scooping small handfuls of dirt and piling them gently around the roots.
“See?” Dawn smiled. “She’s happy. You can’t feel it?”
Grace shook her head, grinning. “She?”