The Gardener of Man

by A. W. Cross

  —Love, Grace

  We stood on a rocky outcropping at the side of the road, next to a weathered wooden shack. The red lettering on the side had faded and flaked off into illegibility, but I remembered it well. Candied salmon, $10/lb. Fresh cherries. Lemonade. Ice cream, three scoops for $6.00 only!

  Tears filmed over my eyes, blurring the crispness of the white-peaked waves cresting and breaking on the surface of the lake below. Lake Niska. In the summers, the beach had always been crammed with tourists and locals alike, a sweaty, greasy, seething rainbow of umbrellas and beach chairs. Now deserted, it stretched out sterile and forlorn.

  Cindra squeezed my hand. “I know, right? Their raspberry lemonade was amazing. They had nothing on Asche’s candied salmon, though.”

  “That’s a hell of a long way down, isn’t it?” Oliver said, craning his neck to peer over the cliff.

  “Best not get too close to the edge then, eh?” Tor muttered savagely.

  Oliver bared his teeth then turned toward the sprawl of houses in the distance. “So that’s it then? Goldnesse? Pretty impressive view.”

  “Yes,” Lexa said. “Are you ready?”

  No.

  It took us nearly half an hour to reach the town, our slow descent giving me time to take it all in. Tor had been right when he’d said that large parts of it were damaged during the war; many of the shops and beach-side apartments that ringed the shore of the southern lake had been destroyed, leaving twisted piles of blackened concrete and steel.

  “Why they would bomb a city like this?” Tor asked. “I mean, there wasn’t much here but beaches and vineyards, was there?”

  “And a cyborg or two,” Pax replied. “Or so they may have thought at the time.” He started suddenly and looked at me. “Sorry.”

  The others filed past me, silent in their avoidance. Even Oliver had nothing to say. Tor rested his hand briefly on my shoulder before he too went on, leaving Cindra and me, our hands locked together. I knew I was hurting her, but I couldn’t let go.

  “I doubt that’s true,” she whispered. “How would they even know? And even if they did, they would’ve known you wouldn’t be there. It was probably just a mistake. I’ve heard that happens sometimes: a bomb slips out prematurely. Not particularly reassuring in most cases, but—”

  “Thanks.” I forced myself to loosen my grip, my fingers stiff.

  The residents of Goldnesse had clearly worked relentlessly in the aftermath of the war, and not just for survival. The rubble that must’ve littered the streets was cleared away, neatly shoved into towering piles lining both sides of the road. As we walked through the tunnel of debris, the hair on the back of my neck stood up. Someone was watching us. The corridor hadn’t been created just for order’s sake, it seemed. Without being able to see over the top, I had no idea where in the town we were, though I suspected we were headed down Main Street. The only turn we’d taken was the gentle curve where the road had previously hugged the lake, and the worn yellow and white traffic paint was faintly visible.

  Tor must be going crazy .

  Every cell in his hunter’s body would’ve been screaming about the foolishness of this, the vulnerability of our situation. And after what Pax had said… Tor’s gait was tense, the hair curling over the collar of his coat brushing back and forth as he searched from side to side, scanning for movement. His hand hovered over the knife belted to his waist, and the hilt of another peeked from the top of his boot. He’d wanted to bring his crossbow, but Lexa had refused, saying it might be seen as aggressive. He’d taken advantage of her distraction while she’d been packing and secreted it into his oversized backpack instead.

  We exited the half-tunnel just as I thought he would explode.

  My guess had been correct. We stepped out at the end of Main Street, just before the start of the former downtown quarter. Most of the original shops seemed occupied, smoke curling from chimneys, and goods stacked on the pavement outside. Strong smells permeated the bubble of silence surrounding us—tantalizing earthy aromas of cooking meat, burning wood, and the people who bustled by us. Their cheeks were rosy in the crisp air as they nodded at each other in passing or huddled in groups on the corners, breaking into peals of laughter and slapping each other on the back.

  The sights and smells after weeks in the wilderness steeped me in the knowledge that while I’d slept peacefully underground, these people had clawed their way through the last five years, watching nearly everyone they knew die, the lives and futures they’d built burn to the ground. Every single person here had done something to live, and yet I saw none of it on their faces. If I let my mind wander just a little, it could’ve been the Saturday Farmers Market, and I’d just stepped out of our booth for a break. In fact, from where we were standing, I could see a few hundred feet down the street to where our booth had nestled between the others on the pavement beside the Winter Park.

  The last time I’d stood here felt like scant months ago, and of course, to my newly-awoken mind, it was. Time had not passed for us the way it had for these people, and watching them now, carving out normal lives, was like a knife to my gut. How had they coped? Adapted to a way of life requiring skills so different from what they knew?

  How would I have done?

  I’d been protected by thousands of pounds of impenetrable bunker and a stranger. A stranger like me, like us, who many saw as the cause of the war. These people had been meant to survive; we had not. And yet here we all were, human and cyborg alike. If what Pax had seen was right, only we could ensure these people survived. Watching them now, the heart-breaking normalcy of their lives, I was determined we would, no matter what it cost us.

  “Lexa!” A woman rounded one of the groups near us, her hand raised in greeting. She appeared to be in her mid-thirties and was striking, with long, loosely-knotted umber hair framing a delicate face dominated by wide, cornflower-blue eyes. Her skin had the robust look of someone who spent a lot of time outdoors, and her mouth curved in a genuine smile of pleasure.

  “Lily.” Lexa gripped both the woman’s hands in her own. “How are you?”

  “We’re good. A bit low on medical supplies, but otherwise great. Is there something wrong with your radio? When you didn’t come the other week, I was worried Mil had taken a turn for the worse, and we tried to contact you but got no answer. Is he okay?” she asked, her forehead creased in concern.

  “He’s fine.” The tension in Lexa’s shoulders belied her casual tone. “Just a bit grumpy, as usual. He was too tired to make the trip today.”

  Lily nodded in sympathy. “I keep telling him the two of you should move here, but he insists your work is too important.”

  “He’s right,” Lexa replied. “One of these days this climate is going to change, and we want to be ready when it does. Who knows what kind of effect it will have? We want to make sure we’re a step ahead. Besides, we wouldn’t be able to synthesize all these medications here. The equipment is too delicate to move.” She patted the side of her heavy canvas bag.

  “I understand,” Lily said. “I just hate the thought of the two of you alone out there, especially with Mil’s condition—” She suddenly noticed the group of strangers behind Lexa. “But maybe you’re not alone anymore?” She gave us a pointed look.

  “No, we’re not.” Lexa smiled. “That’s why we didn’t come as usual. Lily, these are researchers from another station like ours. They’d thought they were the only ones who’d survived, but when their supplies got low, they decided to risk searching further afield. As luck would have it, I happened across them just as they were about to turn back.” The lies rolled easily off her tongue.

  “Scientists!” Lily exclaimed, her whole face brightening to match her smile. “We always need more of you. What fields did you work in?”

  Lexa explained our different areas of “expertise,” pointing to each of us in turn. “We’ve got Ailith, an agriculturalist. Tor, a wildlife biologist. Pax a biomedical scientist. Kalbir, our human resources manager.
Callum, a researcher. Oliver, a software engineer, and,” she said, arching her eyebrows in anticipation of Lily’s reaction, “Cindra, a botanist who studies traditional medicine.” She pushed Cindra forward with a palm to her lower back.

  Cindra let go of my hand and stepped forward, smiling shyly. I hadn’t thought Lily’s smile could get any brighter, but it did.

  With her around, who needs the sun?

  “Oh my goodness, it’s so nice to meet you,” she said, snatching up Cindra’s hands and giving them an excited squeeze. “I have so much to ask you, to show you. Just the other week, I found this plant—maybe you’ve seen it? It has five-pointed—”

  “Lily?” a male voice asked. We turned as one to find a man and teenage girl standing behind us. The man scrutinized us, his eyes wary, while the girl, who had his pale-blue eyes and dimpled chin, gazed at us with the same open delight as Lily.

  “Ryan, Grace! Look, it’s Lexa, and she’s brought friends.”

  “I know,” he replied, circling us to stand next to her. “I followed them in.”

  “They’re all scientists, like Lexa and Mil,” she said, still holding Cindra’s hands. “Just think, even more skills to add to our little community.”

  “Scientists?” He nodded slowly. “I see. Where did you say you were from?”

  “They’re from near Falton, just over the range from Rosespring,” Lexa said smoothly.

  “I don’t remember any research stations around there,” Ryan replied.

  “Yeah, well, we didn’t exactly advertise.” Oliver stepped in. “Lots of expensive equipment, and with all the unrest over those artilects and cyborgs and such before the war, people seemed to think all scientists were the same. And hey, we’re brainboxes, not boxers, if you get me. Best to keep it on the hush-hush.”

  Gently, gently, Oliver.

  Ryan eyed Tor dubiously.

  We’re too healthy, too strong.

  “Oh, don’t worry about him.” Oliver waved his hand nonchalantly. “He looks burly, but it’s mostly fat. I just wouldn’t show your food stores, if I were you.

  Tor glared at Oliver but held his tongue. His knife had disappeared, and he tried to look relaxed; I doubted anyone but me noticed he was coiled like a spring.

  “Cindra here is a botanist, Ryan. And not just any botanist, but one who studies local plants.” She beamed up into his face. “Can you believe our luck?”

  Ryan finally melted under the brilliance of her smile. His face relaxed, and he nodded at Cindra. “It’s good to meet you. All of you,” he added. “Cindra, I hope you like to talk and listen because Lily here has been waiting years to meet someone like you.”

  Someone like you. Like us. I doubt it.

  A shadow passed over Cindra’s face, gone in an instant. Adapt.

  “Oh, and Ailith, we have another agriculturalist here. You two should get together. I’m sure he’d be fascinated by your research. He’s been trying to get common crops to adapt to the colder weather. In fact, there he is now, over there. The older gentleman.”

  She pointed across the street to a man engrossed in conversation with an oddly familiar younger man with bronze skin and shorn black hair. He was tall, his head bald, and his face heavily lined. He looked much older than he should have, and I wondered how much of it was because of me.

  It turned out my father was still alive, after all.

  We drove out of Tow and into the dark. Behind us, the city was alight; we felt the heat of it even after we’d crossed the boundary line. Dad took us past the lake, to the cabin deep in the woods they’d bought on a whim during their honeymoon. We’d been to it only a month ago, the week after I got out of school, and since Mom had over-shopped as she always did, we could lock ourselves inside and pretend the world wasn’t falling apart.

  —Love, Grace

  Cindra saved me from responding by dropping gracelessly to her knees in a near-faint. As Lexa and Lily bent over her, Oliver rushed to her side. She pushed him away and reached out for me; he stepped back, his expression pained.

  My father is alive.

  “Cindra!” Lily pressed the back of her hand to Cindra’s forehead as I knelt next to her and grabbed her hand.

  “Asche,” she hissed at me under her breath.

  “What? Where?” He’s alive?

  She shook her head mutely and flicked her gaze toward the pair hovering over her.

  “She’s okay,” I said, “don’t worry. She didn’t eat much this morning, and it was a long walk. Here, come sit with me. I’ve got some protein bars in my bag.” I threw her arm over my shoulder and stood, dragging her with me.

  Lily hovered her hand uncertainly over Cindra’s shoulder. “Are you sure?”

  “Absolutely. Just give us ten minutes, and she’ll be fine. Tell us where you’re going, and she’ll meet you there.”

  “Okay,” Lily said, still unsure. “I’m going to the infirmary. I can give her an examination when she gets there.”

  Cindra glanced at Lexa, panic widening her eyes.

  He’s alive, and he’s here.

  Tor spotted the tremble in my hands. I gripped Cindra more tightly.

  “I’m sure she’ll be just fine,” Lexa replied. “Come and see us when you’re ready, Cindra. Just follow Main Street here to the end. There’s a large building that used to be a casino. You’ll find us on the right side of the bottom floor.”

  Cindra nodded then sat down with her head between her knees.

  Lexa grabbed Lily’s arm firmly and steered her toward the road. “So, you were saying you found a new plant? Have you been able to identify it yet?” Their voices faded as they wove down the street, Lily glancing back over her shoulder just before they disappeared.

  “Well, if I’m not needed, I’m off,” Oliver said. The cheerfulness in his voice was strained, and he avoided looking at either of us.

  “Just where are you going?” Tor asked. “Don’t cause any shit, Oliver, not on our first day here.”

  “Me?” Oliver asked innocently. “I have no idea what you mean, Goliath. We’re here in what passes for civilization these days, and I plan to take advantage of it. I wonder if there’s a brothel?” He sauntered away. “Sure you don’t want to join me?” he called to Tor over his shoulder. “It’s not like your current relationship is working out that well. For you, anyway.”

  The muscles in Tor’s jaw leaped once then stilled. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “God, what an asshole. Why is it men like him always survive? Like a goddamn cockroach.” He knelt beside Cindra and me, dipping his head to look her in the eyes. “You okay?”

  The gentleness of his voice hurt my heart.

  “Yes, I’m fine. I just…I’d like to speak with Ailith for a few minutes. Privately,” she added, glancing at Kalbir.

  A faint blush colored Kalbir’s cheeks. “Fine,” she said. “C’mon, Big Man, Callum, let’s go find some fun.”

  Callum’s head tilted strangely to the side. “I’d like to eat things and touch things.”

  “Uh, okay. I’m sure we can do that,” Kalbir said. “Tor?”

  “Actually,” Tor said, looking at me closely, “I think I’ll go and talk to some of the local hunters. Make myself useful.” He pointed further down the street, where a group of men and women seemed to be haggling over a stack of carcasses.

  Kalbir looked from him to me, her smile tight. “Right, well, whatever, suit yourself.” She turned on her heel and left us, her chin up and shoulders stiff.

  Tor waited until she’d walked down the next block. “You’re sure you don’t need me?” he asked, reluctant to leave us. “What’s really going on?”

  Well, my dad’s alive, and Cindra thinks she just saw her old boyfriend. Other than that, not much.

  “Cindra?” I asked. “Do you want Tor and Pax to leave as well?”

  “No,” she said. “They can stay. I just…I don’t know them yet.”

  “Oh good,” Pax said, relief clear in his voice. “I wasn’t going to leave anyway.”


  Cindra smiled up at him and tugged gently on the leg of his pants. “Thanks, Pax.”

  I sat on the pavement next to Cindra, the cold concrete biting through the seat of my pants and chilling my skin. “Do you want to go first?” I asked her.

  “No,” she said. “I need to be sure. You go.”

  “Okay.” I took a deep breath. “My father is still alive. And he’s standing right over there, next to—” It hit me where I’d seen the younger man before.

  He gave me the crooked grin that was as familiar to me as my own heart.

  “Asche. He cut his hair,” I added lamely.

  What were the odds?

  Astronomical.

  The suspicion slowly poisoning my body over the last few days spread deeper.

  No. It’s a coincidence. The odds are slim, but possible.

  The odds of any of us surviving had been small, but someone had to. Why not them?

  Paranoia is just as dangerous as an actual enemy. Remember that.

  “What? You mean to tell me your dad is standing right over there? And who the hell is Asche?” Tor looked as though he’d fallen down the rabbit hole. Well, hare hole, in his case.

  Cindra looked up, her eyes rimmed with red. “Asche was my…boyfriend, fiancé…whatever. Or at least, he would’ve been if I hadn’t left him.” She twisted her braid between her fingers. “I only pretended to myself he might be alive. I didn’t actually believe it was possible.”

  “Shit. Pax, did you know this was going to happen?” Tor asked.

  Pax hooked his thumbs through the empty belt loops on his pants and rocked back on his heels. “Yes. No. I did see them, but I had no idea who they were or what it meant.”

  “I asked you before we came if you’d seen anything,” I said, unable to keep the irritation from creeping into my voice. “A little notice would’ve been appreciated.”

  Pax smiled benignly, unruffled by my tone. “You weren’t specific. What would your reaction have been if I’d said, ‘I see an older man and a younger man, and they’re talking?’”