#2 Shades of Gray: From Moscow, With Love

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#2 Shades of Gray: From Moscow, With Love Page 66

by Kristie Lynn Higgins


  Chapter Fifty-five

  Death's Head Hawkmoth

  11:49 P.M...

  Hellenistic Sector, Cultural Vicinage...

  A taxi dropped Kat at the entrance of the Genesis Arboretum, and a security officer let her into the main building. The guard escorted her to the area where they first met Adam Greenhouse and then to the Sapling Room.

  The security officer pointed to a door on the opposite side of the room and told her, "Go through there. Mr. Greenhouse is waiting within." He dropped his hand. "Come back to the guardhouse when you're done, and someone will let you out." He returned to duty.

  She walked through the room with thousands of pots, arrived at the door, paused, and looked at a name plate; the next room was called the Sphere Room. Kat opened the door to a set of steps, started up them through a hall, and walked up a story to a rounded door and wall.

  Katharine's view...

  I turn the knob, open the odd shaped door, and a brilliant light explodes around me; it's so... What's the word I'm looking for? I shield my eyes; it's so brilliant. A few moments pass before my sight adjusts to the brightness. Wow! The room's humungous and shaped like a ball and it's amazing! It's like I've landed on another planet.

  The sun appears on the horizon of an eastern sky, and it's a blue cloudless sky. A diversity of birds break out in song, greeting the morning, and a salty breeze blows across a field of lemon grass, rippling the green blades as waves roar in the distance.

  I close the door and walk further in. It's night outside, but morning in here, and the clouds... There is no...

  End Katharine's view...

  "Amazing, isn't it!" Adam yelled from a large banyan tree that took up most of the Sphere Room's center. "My own island of the sun!" He waved for her and urged, "Come! Come!" He took a few steps toward her across the lawn grass surrounding the tree. "There's much for you to see!"

  She followed a stone path through the tall lemon grass and crossed a bridge over a pond surrounding the banyan. Koi swam in the water. The wooden planks creaked under her weight as she approached him and by then, he had bent over and returned to his work. She saw Adam straighten, wipe his hands on his overalls, and wave for her to come closer, and Kat squinted as she gazed at the ever brightening morning sky. "How's there..."

  "How is there sunlight?" he interrupted as he placed both hands on his cane. "It is fake. The sky, the sun, and the ocean are all created by seamless projection screens. I even have a wind machine that creates the salty air." Adam lifted his pale blue eyes, scanning his pretend world. "Everything else in here is real though. I prefer living animals to bio-mechas."

  "Oh." She gazed up at the giant elderly man. "Wow. I didn't stand this close to you before. I didn't realize how tall you were. It's almost like you're two people. One standing on the other's shoulders." He eyed her oddly, so Kat put a hand to her mouth. "That was very rude of me, wasn't it? I'm sorry. Sometimes what I should be thinking just pops out of my mouth."

  Katharine's view...

  I can't believe I said it out loud. Why don't I also tell him he looks older than creation?

  Adam's view...

  I eye her a little longer, smile, and say, "Don't worry. It isn't like you meant anything by it."

  Or did she? If only I could remember her name, then this feeling I have had since I met her might make sense.

  End Adam's view...

  She peered around again and asked him, "Why is it morning?"

  "If I had my way, it would be twenty-four hours of sun, but the animals behave much better with at least a little night cycle. Five hours to be precise." He coughed, pulled a red handkerchief out of his pocket, and wiped his mouth. "That's why it's morning here instead of night because the day cycle is different." He threw the handkerchief in a trash.

  Katharine's view...

  "Oh," I say as I regard the kind old face of the man, and he reminds me of someone, and I want to wrap my arms around him and give him a big hug. I get the impression of a grandfather figure, but that's it; they have no face and no name.

  I frown, a little frustrated and shift my thoughts elsewhere. I'm anxious to hear what he's going to tell me about organic-mecha, so I turn my gaze down to my feet, considering if I'm one of them. I don't feel like something created like the Un-Men.

  End Katharine's view...

  Adam noticed her gloomy demeanor as he told her, "Come over here, and I will show you something. It's a hobby of mine." Several different flowers grew there, and their sweet fragrances filled the air as he motioned to a plant with dark green oval foliage with pointed tips and reddish orange trumpet shaped flowers. "This is a Ocean Honeysuckle." Adam pointed to a light green plant with tiny red and white flowers. "This is a Brick Berry." He bent over and touched the leaves of another plant with blue-green foliage and purple flowers. "And this one's a Verandah." Adam stepped to the side so she could see. "And look very closely here." He pointed to a little green dot the size of a pea. "This is a moth's egg. The female lays a single one, and when the larvae hatches, it feeds on the plant." He stood up. "Come." He moved over to a wooden box cage and opened it and inside, hundreds of winged bugs crawled over each other. "These are ready for shipment. You see, I raise the Death's Head Hawkmoth." Adam removed a bug careful not to let any others out and closed the lid. The insect emitted loud squeaks as he firmly held it, but gently, trying to keep the adult moth from flying away. "They make this sound every time I handle them. It's kind of like having a pet mouse."

  She looked to the bug with a skull pattern on its back.

  He opened the cage and returned the moth. "Their Latin name is Acherontia atropos, and according to Arcamedes..."

  "Arcamedes?" Kat interrupted.

  "You don't know that name." Adam searched her face. "Interested in history?" She nodded, so he continued, "Arcamedes was a Philosopher and Entomologist among other things who lived about five hundred years ago; he was a genius ahead of his time."

  "Oh. Didn't know."

  "He was a very remarkable man. He's one of the reasons I entered the fields of science that I did." Adam walked over to a work bench covered with pots and garden tools. It was a bench like the one in the Sapling Room. He opened a drawer and removed a new handkerchief and placed it in his pocket. "Now where was I?"

  "According to Arcamedes..." she said.

  "Let me see if I can remember what he said. Ah yes. The moth's Latin name Acherontia atropos." He cleared his throat. "Arcamedes said Atropos was one of three sisters of the Fates and a daughter of Nyx."

  Katharine's view...

  Daughter of Nyx... The file I found mentioned the Children of Nyx in relation to organic-mecha, so the moth might have something to do with organic-mecha.

  End Katharine's view...

  Adam continued, "Atropos was depicted with a shrouded face and a pair of scissors to cut the threat of life like the design on the moth, and it has a thoracic pattern of a mask with scissors below it. It is a foreboding, but unwarranted image." He nodded, pleased with himself. "My memory hasn't failed me completely."

  She glanced at the flowers and turned to him and asked him, "What do the adults eat?"

  "The adult moth raids bee hives for honey." He grinned like a doting parent. "They have quite a sweet tooth." He made his way to the bridge and walked to its center. "Time to feed the fishes."

  She put her hand to one of the banyan roots that ran down from a branch and looked up at the enormousness of the tree. Kat hoped there was more to their meeting than just talking about bugs. She joined him and asked, "Do you sell them to zoos?"

  "Yes." He reached into his pocket, removing food. "Some of them go to zoos, others to researchers, and some of them I keep to study myself." Adam tossed the pellets into the water, and the white, gold, and dark colored fishes swam to the surface and gulped down the food. He turned to Kat as if she was one of his grandchildren. "Would you like to feed them?
"

  Hoping he would ask, she nodded and took the pellets as he dropped them into her outstretched palm. Kat scattered a few at a time into the water and watched the Koi feast. "Mr. Greenhouse."

  "Yes?"

  "In your note, you said you would talk with me about organic-mecha." She dropped the last of the pellets.

  "That I did."

  She wiped her hands on her pants. "I would really like to hear about them."

  "Let's go inside, and I'll make some coffee."

  Kat followed him through a maze of roots that ran from the ground to branches high above, and then she followed him to the center. An opening stood there and wooden spiral stairs was within and at the top, the stairs emptied into a large open room. The smell of cedar filled the air. In the center of the room was a large table with a single file folder on its top, and at the opposite end of the treehouse stood a balcony with a wooden railing that looked over Adam's domain. Kat walked out to the balcony, scanning the small world. "The tree your house is built in is amazing." A salty breeze blew through her hair. "What kind is it?"

  "The tree itself isn't real, but it is modeled after an Indian Banyan." Adam strolled out to the balcony. "It is also known as the Strangler Fig."

  "The Strangler Fig?" She peered up at the long branches stretched overhead. "Why is that?"

  "Banyans are a subgenus of tropical figs, and they have an unusual growth habit." He grabbed hold of a section of railing, noticed it was loose, moved to another section, and gripped it. "They usually start life as a seedling on another tree where a fig-eating bird has deposited the seed. The roots descend over the trunk of the host, seeking out the soil below and once they have rooted into the dirt, the fig roots rapidly thicken and lignify." He looked to the mock ocean in the distance, hearing the waves crash against the shore. "Where the Banyan roots cross each other they fuse, creating a lattice around the host's trunk. The banyan competes with the host for light, water, and nutrients, and with its roots, it prevents the host truck from growing. Eventually, the host dies and rots away, leaving the fig self supporting as an ordinary tree, but with a tubular lattice of lignified roots instead of a single trunk."

  "So the tree uses another to survive then kills it."

  He nodded, "Everything in nature kills in one form or another to survive down to the cows that eat grass."

  "I don't know about that."

  "You are still young," Adam said. "A sapling. No... You aren't a sapling. What is it... What's the name that I'm searching for that belongs to you?" She shrugged, and he said, "No matter, it will come to me later." He started in as he questioned her, "Would you like some African coffee?"

  "Umm... Maybe I shouldn't. For some reason, I keep thinking I shouldn't have coffee, so water or juice will do."

  "Water it is. If you don't mind, I will still have some coffee."

  "Not at all. Go right ahead."

  Adam went into an open country kitchen, removed filters and coffee grounds, and prepped the machine.

  Kat moved to the large wooden table and sat in a chair, eyeing the file folder and after a few minutes, she asked, "About the organic-mecha?"

  He grabbed two metal mugs from the cupboard. "What's your interest in them?" He placed them on the counter.

  Kat thought about his question and answered, "Can they pass as human?"

  "Yes, they can." He placed three teaspoons of the white granules in his mug. "Would you like a slice of lemon in your water?"

  "Yes, please." She fidgeted for a few moments as quiet settled in the treehouse. The coffee machine perked, and the strong African scent filled the area as she watched Adam grab a lemon from a hanging metal mesh basket and slice it. He placed one of the slices in her mug and ran water from the tap into it. "Mr. Greenhouse, is there any way to tell if someone's organic-mecha?"

  "Please, please... call me Adam and as for your question, I'm not sure what you mean."

  The two cup machine finished dripping as she questioned, "Are there any signs like a barcode on the back of their neck or maybe they can't shed tears?"

  "No." He shook his head. "No markings, and their eyes have adequate tear ducts." Adam poured the steaming dark brew into his mug. "It's very hard to tell if they are an organic-mecha, but there is one way." He walked over with his cane and handed her the mug of water.

  She took it and breathed in the scent of fresh lemon. "Thank you."

  "You're welcome." He went back to the counter for his and returned to the table.

  There was a way, and her heart rapidly beat as she anxiously waited to find out. Kat took a sip of the cool tangy liquid, trying to calm her uneasiness and asked, "So how can you tell if someone's an organic-mecha?"

  This could be his chance to see if Kat had Ginn's Cipher, so Adam sat in a chair beside her, set down his mug, and held out his left palm for her left. "Give me your hand," he told her. She started to give it to him, but then placed her right in his. It wouldn't be as easy as he thought to get a look at her other hand. Adam wiped his rough thumb over the lines of her palm and over the minute pattern grooves of her fingers. "Organic-mechas have no fingerprints. They have no lines or markings whatsoever on their hands. I designed them that way."

  Kat breathed a sigh of relief. "So I'm not one."

  "Not one?" Adam chuckled. "You thought you might be organic-mecha? My dear, I could have told you you were not. My memory isn't what it used to be, but I would recognize one of my precious children." He asked, "Why would you think you were one of my crea..." He paused and questioned, "Why in all the sciences would you think you were organic-mecha?"

  Kat shrunk from his question. "I..."

  Few people knew what she was; it was safer that way, but he might know of her project and have information. He might even know who she was before she became the Pandora Project. She nodded slightly, deciding she should tell him, so Kat removed the music box from her pocket, held it in her left hand, and started, "I thought I might be because..."

  A female voice interrupted, "When are you going to get an elevator for this place? You're old. Don't you get tired of walking up and down these stairs, Mr. Greenhouse?"

  Kat and Adam turned, seeing Stephanie as she strolled into the main living area. Stephanie appeared to be a little agitated and specks of sweat covered her forehead. She took a moment to catch her breath as if she had run up a hundred flights of stairs.

  "Like I said, you're old. Maybe you should... Hey!" Stephanie looked right at Kat and pointed. "There you are!" She put her hands on her hips and scolded, "I've been looking all over Noir for you! Puck! Where have you been?" Stephanie glanced around the treehouse. "Surely you haven't been here the whole time. Mr. Greenhouse, have you been hiding her from me?" She shook her head. "I guess that doesn't matter now." She cracked her knuckles. "It's time I completed my assignment."

 

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