Earth Legend (17 page)

My throat closed and I let her ramble on
because, as zealous as Darleen Smithers was at that moment, there'd
be no interrupting and no changing her mind. And as she finally let
go of me, I resigned myself to working in the greenhouses, at least
temporarily. I listened to her until, running out of words at last,
she drifted off to find her husband and play the gracious hostess
by his side.

When the band tuned up, they were
surprisingly good. I wondered how that could be because I'd not
heard anyone practicing until I realized that all apartments were
sound-proof, a wise precaution on a ship no one could ever leave.
Cullen, still scowling, steered me onto the dance floor and we
proceeded to waltz, polka and do a few other dances I didn't
recognize. Not that I truly recognized the waltzs or polkas either
because Cullen's dancing had clearly been learned during a required
officer training class instead of being an inborn ability. I felt
sorry for his teacher and was grateful when the music ended. As we
passed the band, it was all the guitarist could do to keep a
straight face.

Later, in the apartment, I realized that the
band had whetted my appetite for music but what I wanted to hear
was pan pipes. "Cullen…"

"Yes?"

"Would you play your pipes?"

"I don't play them. I told you that. I just
liked the look of them so when I won them in a game of craps, I
kept them." His look forbade arguing so I drifted towards my
bedroom. Then he threw me a bone because we both knew he was lying
about not playing the pipes. "You looked nice tonight. That green
thing is pretty."

"The kitchen curtains?"

"They look better on you than on a
window."

A compliment from Cullen Vail? I was
momentarily stopped in my tracks. Then I continued on because the
night was done and it was time to go to bed. "I'm going to work in
the greenhouses."

"Darleen Smithers? That was what she wanted
to talk about? The greenhouses?"

"Yep."

"Why should she care where you work?"

I thought fast. "She knows I'm a botanist." I
stepped through the doorway before he could say more.

But before I closed the door, he said,
"You'll have no bodyguard at the greenhouses or anywhere else after
this."

"You spoke with the captain?"

"I did. He agrees with you. The crisis is
past. I'll make sure you have your own bike for
transportation."

"And you'll have your own home again."

"Thank goodness." His tone of voice was
unreadable so I couldn't gauge his relief at being free of me at
last.

The next morning, he had breakfast ready as
usual. Jelly donuts for me, a huge meal for him. His future
children would start their day right while mine would barely
survive.

I started my morning circuit of the room,
nibbling as I walked. He said, "The captain called."

"Oh?" I licked jelly from a donut before it
dripped on the floor.

Ramrod straight at the table he shoveled eggs
into his mouth. "He's been busy. He must want you settled because
you start work today. This morning." Juice went down quickly.

I had a job. A real job and had better get to
it. "I'll take you to work today because you have no transportation
yet but that bike I promised will be waiting when you get off work
and keyed to your comunit." Almost like home. A surge of
homesickness swept through me but was quickly gone.

I stuffed the last of the donut in my mouth
and swallowed. Time to get busy.

The greenhouse personnel were expecting me
when Cullen and I walked through the door but the only person who
acknowledged me was the head grower and his expression would have
killed me if possible. I managed to smile while avoiding eye
contact and looked around for some sign of acceptance among the
handful of people standing and walking around while pretending not
to notice what was happening.

One young guy about my age or a bit younger
smiled until he realized he was the only one doing so. Then his
lips turned down and he went back to his work, pruning bean vines,
while keeping up with what was happening though quick, furtive
glances.

"Now that you're here, what do you intend to
do?" The head grower, I vaguely remembered his name as Constance
Reiwer, spread his legs wide and put his hands on his hips. What
had the captain told him? Did he think I was in charge? Surely not,
but my being there set him off like fireworks. "Elle Omstead." The
way he said my name made my heart sink. There are lots of people
who hate our family because we are successful. Because success has
been good to us. And they resent us for doing easily what they
struggle to do. Constance Reiwer had undoubtedly heard about us and
hated me because of my last name. And always would.

My voice squeaked. I hate confrontation and
I'd never had to deal with this situation before, I'd always worked
for relatives. "I was told to report to you." I stretched to my
full five two and pretended I didn't know that he hated me. "What
do you want me to do?"

He puffed his cheeks and looked me up and
down as thoughts chased one another across his face. I was the
captain's pet and, since the captain would undoubtedly be briefed
every so often on my progress, he'd better give me something to do
that sounded useful. But it also had to keep me out of his way and
useless.

His eyes gleamed as the solution came to him.
"I hear you've been picking apples." In one sentence, he put me in
my place as a farmer instead of a scientist and came up with a job
for me that no one could argue was inappropriate. "Check out the
fruit trees. See if they are ready to be transplanted."

Where apple trees grew, other trees would be
nearby. I needed berries from the Chaste tree for Darlene and it
only made sense that the Destiny greenhouses would contain at least
one of every kind of tree with food or medicinal potential.
Including chasteberries. But I didn't remember trees during my
previous visits. "I don’t know exactly where the trees are."

"In the farthest building. We won't see much
of you." Which was what he wanted. Did he know it was what I wanted
too?

He turned to the young man who had briefly
smiled at me. He must be the bottom of the pecking order, the least
important person in the room. "Saul, show Ms. Olmstead to the
nursery."

Saul put away his pruning shears and came
close and indicated with his chin that I follow. I understood his
silence. If he wanted to move up in the pecking order, he'd better
not show me any friendship.

Once we were away from the other botanists,
though, Saul changed. Relaxed. Became curious. "The head grower
said your last name is Olmstead?" I nodded. "There are a lot of
Olmsteads in the agricultural business." I nodded again. "Are you
related?"

"I am."

"Oh." That one word said he understood why
Constance Reiwer didn't like me. I came from an influential family
in the greenhouse business. He'd probably worked his way up.

We continued in silence for a moment. Then,
"Why'd you stow away? Why not just apply as a crew member? They'd
have been happy to have an Olmstead on board."

We were already deep in the greenhouses with
the light from the artificial sun pouring through the glass
ceilings. At night, when that faux sun went dark, grow lights would
switch on so the plants could grow continuously. I touched the
gauzy, green filament of a climbing bean plant and felt its
satisfaction. The plants on the Destiny were making the transition
nicely from earth to space. The colonists would thrive and be
healthy. I would only be needed if something went wrong. That would
happen eventually, it did on earth and it would in space. But the
first, most difficult part, was done.

I caught up with Saul. "I tried. I wasn't
chosen. My genetic makeup didn't qualify."

He sniffed. "As far as I'm concerned, all
that genetic purity stuff is a bunch of crap."

"The selection committee didn't see it that
way."

"I suspect the selection committee was
composed of genetic purists. They are bigots, you know, and there
are genetic bigots on the Destiny. A lot of them." He shivered
delicately as I recalled the crowds that almost made us miss the
Destiny's launch. The anger, the hatred. I shivered. "They spend
most of their leisure time telling each other how superior they are
to the rest of mankind. They have actually created a political
action committee to get genetic screening for every fetus written
into our constitution so no one with impure genes will be born.
Ever."

"You're kidding."

"And they want to be the ones who decide what
genes are acceptable."

"That's scary."

He nodded vigorously. "They meet in the
restaurant in my apartment building so I hear them talk."

"I wonder if the captain knows."

"They aren't doing anything illegal. It's
just politics, or so they say." He pushed a door open and a forest
of tiny trees spread out before us. The nursery. "But if I were
you, I wouldn't tell anyone about your genetic makeup."

I like trees, always have had a thing for
them. The quiet majesty of these youngsters growing towards a life
of providing food made me glad to be an Olmstead. Made me glad for
my unusual genes. "Mum's the word."

We were in the bowels of the greenhouse
complex, passing through one building with no growing plants in it
but boxes and barrels of what looked like chemicals. "What's all
that stuff?"

Saul pointed. "When everything started dying,
no one knew what to do but we knew the life of every person on
board was endangered if we couldn't come up with a way of keeping
the plants alive. So we tried everything, including every chemical
ever known to boost plant production.

"Some of those chemicals are lethal."
Nitrogen. Anhydrous ammonia. And more.

"It was a crisis. It was our job to feed the
people on the Destiny. We'd have done anything, used anything."

I considered the boxes and barrels. "What
will they do with all this stuff now?"

"Connie put in a requisition for it to be
picked up. It just hasn't happened yet." He grinned as he pushed
open another door and we entered a desert dry room filled with
cacti. "Some things never change. On earth or on the Destiny,
nothing gets done in a hurry." We laughed and made our way
carefully around a few prickly pear cacti to still another
greenhouse filled with small trees. We'd arrived at my work
station.

He showed me around a bit, pointing out
things that didn't need pointing out, stretching out his time in
this special place. Then, smiling again so I'd know that at least
one person in the greenhouses was my friend, he left and I went to
find the Chasteberry tree that would…or would not… help Darlene
Smithers become pregnant. It stood in a corner and, when I
explained my project, it was more than happy to help.

Chapter Twelve

I am outed.

A bike was waiting as promised at the end of
that first day and when I got back to my apartment Cullen's things
were gone. I should have been ecstatic. I wasn't. I missed him,
missed his scowling presence, his dark eyes, that hair that never
was out of place even first thing in the morning, missed the bulk
of him in the room next to mine all night long. I missed the way
his eyes smiled at small children playing while his mouth held a
serious line, the way he touched the apple trees in the orchard,
lightly, seeing them for the first time in his life as living,
breathing individuals. The way he shielded me from imaginary
assailants and would have given his life to save mine. That last
was huge. I'd never thought of myself as needing protection but,
remembering Saul's comment about my impure genes, the memory of
Cullen and his protective bulk grew larger and larger as time
passed.

Three months to be exact. Three months of
happiness when I was alone with the trees and misery when other
botanists were present. Except when Saul Darling worked with me
because then time passed pleasantly, but that wasn't often. He
never asked to be assigned to me because he knew he'd be ostracized
by his coworkers if he did. Since I wasn't alone often, I decided
to ask the captain if I could go back to my orchard.

Except it wasn't the captain who sent me to
work in the greenhouses, it was his wife. So I decided to talk to
her. See if she would forgive me for not helping her become
pregnant. Throw myself on her mercy, try to get her to understand
that I couldn't work magic, and ask to be returned to my beloved
orchard.

So, instead of heading home one day after
work, I strolled into the enclave of large houses belonging to
important people. The place where Cullen lived. I passed his place
and walked determinedly towards the largest house in the area, the
captain's home. Darlene Smithers was just coming out, dressed in
sneakers and jogging shorts, with a scarf covering her luxuriant
hair.

She saw me, waved, and came running. "Elle!
So good to see you."

How to start the conversation? Try a nice,
safe topic. "You look nice." She did, too, though she resembled a
teenager rather than the captain's wife. But I'd already figured
that status wasn't important to Darlene Smithers.

A wide smile split her face. "Yes I do look
great and it's all your fault."

"My fault?"

She whirled around a couple of time. "Don't
you know? Can't you see?"

"See what?"

She laughed. "I know I don't show yet but I
thought you'd know."

"You're…?"

"Yep." She grabbed me and hugged me hard.
"I'm pregnant. Almost three months."

"Oh my gosh!" It had worked. My family's
recipe actually worked. I shouldn't have been surprised but I
was.

"You are a miracle worker. I'm so glad you
stowed aboard the Destiny because I'm pregnant and that never
happened before even though we tried practically forever." She let
go of me and pulled me along with her. She moved along the sidewalk
like an acrobat, half dancing, half jogging. She was that excited.
"And I've made sure my friends know about you. You are much too
precious a resource to keep to myself."