Gus relaxed as soon as the greenhouse locked behind her. The solitude to which she’d become accustomed embracing her like an old friend.

Finally. Some peace and quiet.

She’d missed this.

For a second, Gus was tempted to seek out the comfort of her bed. She could take a nap. Ignore her problems for the next little while. But no, there were too many things requiring her attention. The boy needed to be fed. Not to mention, there was still her orchid to get settled. Then there were messages to be checked. Oh, yeah, and the issue of the bodies. They’d need disposing of eventually.

The only thing working in her favor was that Caius would be out for hours. Perhaps days.

Gus let out a weary sigh, already tired. Except for the orchid everything else sounded exhausting.

First things first.

Gus headed toward her kitchen and grabbed one of the prepackaged meals she took the time to make whenever she was home.

The ingredients came mostly from what she grew herself. Human food, with a few exceptions, was nasty. Some of it was also poisonous to her kind. When the decision had come to make Titan her home, she created an expansive vegetable and fruit orchard in the two back containers.

Protein was still a bit of an issue, but there were enough human alternatives for Gus to survive.

She grabbed one of the more protein dense meals and stuck it in the warmer. Next, she took out one of her sauce pots and filled it with water before setting it on an electric burner. While she waited for the water to boil, she bustled over to her spice rack, selecting a couple whole green cardamom pods, a cinnamon stick, a whole clove, star anise and ginger.

She added all of them to a mortar and pestle, breaking them up slightly and releasing their oils before adding them to the pot of water.

Before long, the scent of the spices filled the air.

There were easier and quicker ways to make masala chai, but after the day she’d had, Gus was craving the sense of ritual and comfort that this method gave her.

Also the depth of flavor obtained from choosing and grinding her own blend of spices was unparalleled.

When the spices finished infusing, she added black tea leaves and let them steep for a few minutes before pouring in her milk substitute. Since there were no cows on Titan, it was the closest she could hope to get. Gus let everything steep for a few more minutes as she grabbed two mugs off the shelf.

The first she poured for herself. The second she set aside to bring to Anandra later.

Carrying her mug of chai with her, Gus retrieved the nakawa orchid. Ignoring the trawler full of dead bodies, she headed into her workshop to gather everything she needed to transplant the orchid into its new home.

The backbone of her sanctuary, her workshop took up an entire container all on its own. This was where kept the tools of her trade. Everything from gloves, to buckets full of various types of dirt, rocks and fertilizer.
A large worktable took up the center of the room. There was a cutout at one end for Gus to sweep cuttings and dirt into once she was done. A sink sat in one corner. Next to it was a cabinet that held her vault of seeds and a few other odds and ends. The fridge where she kept some of the more temperature sensitive supplies was on the same wall.

On the opposite side of the space were shelves and a giant peg board where her hori hori knives were displayed as proudly as others might the weapons of a bygone era.

Stopping in front of the fridge, Gus opened it and pulled out a pack of pre-processed animal bones. The name on the side identified them as arapo bones. A species similar to the deer of old Earth that were native to one of the Consortium’s planets.

Epsilon, if Gus remembered right.

Truthfully, she couldn’t always be bothered to know which animal belonged where.

Plants, on the other hand. She could tell you their genus and scientific name, what region of which planet they were found on, and their preferred growing conditions.

Setting the bag of bones and the orchid in a cart, Gus gathered the rest of what she needed. A pair of gardening gloves to protect her hands from the dangerous oils the Nakawa secreted. Those oils didn’t pose a danger to her, but if she were to touch anyone else with them still on her hands, they would die the same way the humans had earlier. Next, she added a pair of sheers in case she had to do any pruning of dead roots. Lastly, she put some moss and bark in the cart just in case she needed them.

Her task finished, Gus stepped back to sweep one last glance over the assembled items. That looked like everything.

She grabbed the cart’s handles, tugging it behind her as she left the work room behind. The container she’d set aside for plants that thrived in cooler temperatures wasn’t far. Right next to the one where she’d left Caius and the kid.

The door beeped as it unlocked.

Gus stepped inside, pulling the cart in after her. She was already shivering, the air chilly as she and her cart headed toward a trio of trees smack dab in the middle of the container.

Like many orchids, the Nakawa was an organism that preferred to take root upon other plants or structures. Their roots drew nutrients from the air and water that accumulated around it. Planting them in normal dirt was the quickest way to kill them off.

The Nakawa was special in that it usually chose skeletons for its perch rather than the more common tree branch.

Throwing the bones on the ground and setting the Nakawa on them wouldn’t work, however. The Nakawa did best in old, abandoned monasteries where bloody battles had once been fought. Or dank caves that contained a convenient skylight to allow in the exact amount of sun they needed.

Since she had neither of those things, Gus would have to approximate those conditions as best she could.

She chose a tree whose trunk had split to create a convenient nook around which to arrange the bones. She tied a couple to the tree to make sure they didn’t fall out before scattering smaller ones around it. Once finished, she grabbed the Nakawa’s pot, carefully working the plant loose without damaging any of its roots.

At last it came free, still clutching the shard of bone that Gus had planted with it.

“Time to get acquainted with your new home,” Gus told it.

Letting the Nakawa keep the bone it was clinging to like a child’s favored toy, Gus placed it on the largest of the apora bones. A nice, juicy femur.

Patiently, she waited as the Nakawa considered her offering.

It debated, its roots flexing and furling.

Gus held carefully still, not daring to move as the tip of one root unwound itself from the original bone.

She found herself unconsciously holding her breath as the root explored the femur.

Yes, she mentally hissed as it wrapped tightly around its new home, more and more of its roots slackening their hold on the old in favor of the new femur.

“Good job, lovely. I’m so proud of you,” Gus praised, feeling like a mother whose child had just crawled for the first time.

She sniffed back tears, running a gentle finger along its stalk in happiness.

Unseen by normal sight, a trace of her soul’s breath slid from her to it. Her ki would help smooth the transition for the Nakawa and give it an extra oomph as it grew.

To the forty three, her affinity was considered trash. An interesting trick but nothing more.

It couldn’t kill. Or maim. Or brainwash.

She couldn’t travel star systems with a single step. Nor create barriers that no weapon could breach.

She’d never create a wave of destruction with a burst of energy or infiltrate and take over computer systems better than any virus.

All she could do was grow things.

Gus stroked the Nakawa one last time. “Grow well, little friend.”

Before leaving, Gus spent a little time visiting the rest of the plants in this container, touching each one, sharing her energy when she sensed it was needed.

Though they couldn’t speak, Gus heard the greetings they called. The little stories they were eager to tell. Everything from their happiness over how dewdrops beaded on the tip of their leaves to the passage of worms burrowing through dirt. The beauty of the night sky that Gus had spent a fortune recreating.

Little by little, Gus felt the tension of the past few weeks drift away.

This was where she belonged. Among the trees and plants, listening to their whispers as they shared everything that had happened in her absence.

Admittedly, most of it was of no interest to anyone but them, but Gus listened with fascination. Enthralled with their easy, uncomplicated lives.

The flowers sang a melody that almost drowned out the chattering trees.

Underneath it all, the moss and lichen growing on the bark of those same trees hummed a lovely refrain.

Their peace became hers. The anxiety and fear that had risen after everything that happened, falling away. Standing in the shadows cast by the trees’ canopies, it was easy to forget the burdens and troubles that lay outside.
Gus closed her eyes, tilting her face to the ceiling as if a sun waited up there. Her mind emptied. Her breathing slowed. Then stopped.

Air became unnecessary. Everything she needed was absorbed through her skin.

Oxygen. Nutrients.

If she allowed it, she could remain like this for weeks. Flowers and leaves would gradually sprout from her hair and body. The light brown of her complexion would take on a greenish orange tinge.

Gus had never been brave enough to see what lay at the end of that metamorphosis. Whether she would join her trees, bushes and flowers as one of them or if she’d become something else entirely.

The first time she’d entered this state, a month had slipped by before she noticed.

When she finally returned to life, it was to find her employer had reported her missing and her inbox filled by increasingly terse messages from Ryan. The last of which had threatened a personal visit should she not report in immediately.

She’d learned to be careful after that. Ryan’s wrath wasn’t something to be taken lightly.

As punishment, he’d sent her on several back-to-back missions that had kept her busy for months. It was nearly a year before she saw her sanctuary again.

There was also the fear lurking at the back of her mind that if she ever slipped too deep into this state that she might not come back.

Gus didn’t know if her ability to commune on an unheard of level with the organisms around her was a product of her lineage or if it was something the tsavitee had added during her time at the camps. There was also no one she could ask since she didn’t remember where she came from. Careful observation of the Tuann hadn’t clarified matters either.

If there were others like her, she hadn’t been able to find them.

A discordant note disturbed the harmony. The trees and flowers picked it up, unease sliding through their previous happiness.

Gus hunted for the source of that concern, questing down well traveled neural networks. Humans, and likely Tuann as well, didn’t understand how interconnected biomes were. In her experience, forests possessed both the singular consciousness of individual organisms and the shared one of the many. They shared information and experiences on a much more sophisticated level than most realized.

Titan wasn’t an actual forest, but its many garden and green areas functioned much like one, passing information the same way.

After a moment, the trees brought her news of strangers.

Like Gus but different.

Disturbed, Gus pulled herself out of their song. Her extremities tingled unpleasantly, like a limb that had fallen asleep, as sensation returned.

Gus barely noticed as a troubled frown took over her face.

The forest may not have known what those strangers were, but she did.

There were Tuann on Titan. More than just the two she had stashed in her greenhouse container. Many more.

The post Chapter Three Part One appeared first on T.A. White.