Botanicaust (3 page)

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Authors: Tam Linsey

BOOK: Botanicaust
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Plucking a few wide leaves from the nearby amarantox, he arranged them over the blanket before crawling beneath. The action brought back childhood memories of hiding from his father, taking an afternoon to dream and draw instead of hand-weeding the invading amarantox from the fields. Later, he and Sarah used to slip away from prying eyes and make love beneath a blanket of camouflage, much to her father

s disapproval. The Order forbade sex out of wedlock, but many broke that ordinance. Like most of the afflicted, Sarah had been forbidden to marry. But she

d wanted a child so badly. And he

d wanted to make her happy

Levi grimaced away the sadness. To avoid wallowing in memories, he opened his notebook and flipped to the last page. He would record his journey by sketching.
A journal to pass on to his son.
But so far all he

d encountered were waves of noxious amarantox.
Nothing different or exciting to draw.
Not that he wanted exciting; he

d settle for a boring trip all the way to the Fosselites and a boring trip back. If only he didn

t have the blisters.

He allowed his eyes to drift closed.

Rustling foliage startled him awake. How long had it been? Holding his breath, he didn

t twitch in the still, muggy air. If cannibals found him, he

d be roasting by dark.

The noise continued, and his heart raced. What were they doing? It sounded like they were harvesting the amarantox seeds. Cannibals might be desperate, but they weren

t stupid. Not even pigs or goats could eat the toxic weed in any quantity.

Whatever was moving through the weeds came closer. He shrank into as small a space as he could. This might be the end. God would punish him for thinking to circumvent His will, just like the Brethren said.

The sound moved past into a thicket of tamarisk by the water. Branches snapped and twigs rattled.

Unable to resist his curiosity, he pulled the blanket tight about his head and raised his eyes above the level of the foliage. A golden tan and white goat-like creature tugged at the gray-green fronds of tamarisk.

In a flash of motion, almost too quick to see, the creature flicked long ears, launched straight into the air on stiff legs, and bounded into the weeds, followed by a second animal Levi hadn

t seen.

His mouth widened in a silent exclamation. It hadn

t been a goat. He was familiar enough with the blocky form of the village milkers. No, this had been more graceful.
Delicate, even.
And he

d seen that coat once before, many years ago when the old salt trader came through with a rare hide.

A deer?

He pulled out his pencil and sketched madly before the image faded from his mind.

The Garden

Haldanian Protectorate

Sunlight flooded through the transparent nuvoplast walls and ceiling of the Garden, allowing children to photosynthesize without exposure to deadly ultraviolet rays. Air conditioning units kept a comfortable breeze flowing through the building. Tula urged Jo Boy toward a group of nearly naked nine-year olds sitting on the floor. Twenty bald, green heads turned his way, and he backed into Tula, his breathing rapid. His attention darted nervously between the sitting group and another class of prancing youngsters through the glass next door.

The concept of clear walls and ceilings must be mind boggling
, Tula reminded herself. Outside, single story houses reflected harsh sunlight onto the streets from mirrored walls. She didn

t remember much of her own early Integration, but new converts were always flighty. Jo Boy would require a gentle hand until he grew used to his surroundings.

Taking Jo Boy

s hand, she managed to pull him forward and together they settled on a cushion at the outer edge of the group. Most of these children had been converted years ago. Many didn

t remember the Outside. And of course many were native Haldanians. One of Tula

s previous converts smiled at her and scootched a fraction closer before Tula shook her head and nodded toward Jo Boy. The girl stuck out her lip but stopped her approach. On future visits, Tula would socialize, but today Jo Boy needed all her attention.

Albert, the day-teacher, caught Tula

s eye and winked before returning his attention to the kids.

Class, eyes, up here,

he said, drawing attention away from the newcomers. He held a sealed glass cloche with a single-stemmed plant inside.

What do we do if we see a plant?

Several hands shot into the air, and one little boy wearing a yellow friendship bracelet spoke out of turn.

Is it
poison
?


To you, yes. What happens if you touch it?


Touch it, Clay.

A little girl pushed the boy with the bracelet and he turned to slap her back.


Enough, children.

Jo Boy was older than the rest of the class, but Tula found integrating older converts into younger classes worked well, both socially and academically. His chloroplasts had greened up quite nicely, and now he needed to learn the language.


My dad works the Burn. He says he likes the smell. It makes him high,

another boy chirped.

The silver beads in Albert

s short dark hair rattled as he turned to lance the little boy with a glare.

Plants won

t make you high. If you were out on the Burn, the smoke would probably kill you. At the very least, it would make you
wish
you were dead. Plants make our bodies think they are under attack, so our chloroplasts create poisons to fight back.


What about the yuvee trees? Aren

t they plants?

This was from a girl who wore gold earrings like an adult, obviously native Haldanian.
Someone with family who loved her.


That

s a very good question, Amaryllis. Yuvee trees are indeed plants. But they are one of the few plants we allow inside the city because they warn us of an upcoming ultraviolet flare when the leaves become pale. But even yuvee trees are only allowed to grow in designated areas. And never inside the Garden or the play yard.


I can see a yuvee tree from the cafeteria when my mom takes me to lunch.

Jo Boy watched the interactions with wide eyes, his focus sometimes swinging to the class next door. Tula wondered how much he understood. He would be watched closely over the next few months. He needed to learn that sunlight outside of the protective glass of the Garden would harm him. Once he finished puberty, his system could endure the chemicals UV radiation caused his body to produce. Even workers on the Burn, who were acclimated to long periods of direct sunlight and exposure to foreign plants, sometimes came back with an overdose and needed therapy.

The children had digressed into personal stories, no longer focused on the teacher.

The sun will kill you if you look right at it when the yuvee tree turns white.


No, it won

t. Only if you

re outside.


It

ll burn your eyes out.


Okay, kids, settle down. We

re talking about plants now, not ultraviolet waves. As long as you

re in the Garden, the sun can

t hurt you. But sometimes when we go outside at night, you might find a seedling in the yard. If we see a plant, do we touch it?

the teacher asked.


Nooooo,

the children chimed together.

Jo Boy jumped at the chorus and looked at Tula. She smiled in reassurance. He

d probably never seen this many children together before.


What do you do?

Albert crossed his arms over his chest, his silver wristbands catching the light.


Call a grown up,

again the children chimed as one.

Jo Boy remained still, scanning the group in front of him.


Call a grown up to dispose of it properly. That

s right. Touching a plant will make our bodies very sick.


What if I accidently touch one?

Albert shook his head in sadness.

Then you have to go to gene therapy.

A collective shudder rolled through the group. Even Jo Boy twitched, and Tula nodded in satisfaction. He understood some of the lesson.


Now, I want you all to go read the history pages I have up on your gamma pads. There will be a test tomorrow morning.

Albert dismissed the children and Tula approached with Jo Boy in tow. The man smiled broadly, his focus on Tula even as he winked at Jo Boy.

Hello, Tula.


Hi, Albert. I

d like you to meet Jo Boy.


Jobie. Welcome to the class.

Albert always created pet names for the new converts that inevitably became their new identity within the Protectorate.

Can you tell me one thing you learned about plants today?

Jo Boy glowered from beneath his naked brow line at Albert. This was going to be a tough sell.


Go on, Jo Boy. Use your words,

Tula encouraged.


Baad.

She wasn

t sure if the single syllable was in regard to plants or to Jo Boy

s opinion of Albert. The smiling teacher seemed to have no doubts.

Wonderful! You might be top of the class if you keep up the good work. Why don

t you go sit by Amaryllis?

He called out to the girl.

Amaryllis, please read the lesson out loud to Jobie, here.

As Tula watched Jo Boy slouch toward the girl, Albert sidled close enough to rub shoulders and cocked his chin her way.

You still seeing that good-for-nothing Burn Operative? What

s his name? Moo?


Mo.

She laughed.

And, yes, I am.

She and Albert had gone out for some time before she met Mo, a quiet, intelligent convert whose talent was wasted as a Burn Operative.


I don

t know how you can stand the soot. And why hasn

t he given you any jewelry? If he expects to keep you, he

d better start putting his money where his mouth is. Mmmm. Has his mouth been here?

He tickled a finger across her bare collarbone and wiggled his brows.

Tula giggled and pulled away.

Not in front of the kids, Albert.

Even though she

d been converted nearly twenty years ago, she still fought the urge to cover her bare breasts. Photosynthesis only worked if the chloroplasts were exposed to light, so everyday Haldanian garb consisted of merely a loincloth or fringe skirt. Some extremists didn

t even bother with that much modesty.

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