“The spinach emailed,” Kate said as soon as she heard footsteps. She didn’t look up from her microscope. “They want watering.”
“Do they now.” The voice was amused.
She froze, reassessing the footsteps as she played back the memory. Those weren’t sneakers…there was only one meeting today, and never mind what time she thought it was, he was either early or she’d lost track of time again. “You’re not the intern.”
“I am not,” the voice agreed.
Kate rolled her stool backward and stood, extending a hand to the man she’d been avoiding. Other than his holoimage, of course, but what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. “Sir. Welcome to the greenhouse. My apologies for the initial greeting.”
Jonathan Tailles was even taller than he’d looked at the colony planning meetings, or on the vid she found an excuse to pause while it was on his face. He wore the suit —and its accompanying dress shoes—easily, with strong hands with enough calluses to show he’d done his field time to get where he was today.
“Actually, I’d like the tour, if you have a few moments, and to hear more about the chatty spinach. Can we still eat it, or will we have ethical issues?”
“The plants tell us what they need based upon the strength of their signals, but it’s all electrical. They’re not sentient.”
She gave her station a sad glance, wishing she’d been prepared to emulate the cool, confident scientist like she’d practiced in the safety of her office. They headed toward the back, where greenery overflowed. Messily, she privately thought; she preferred her samples pressed between panes of glass and cellular. But she couldn’t tell him that.
“Messy, isn’t it?” he commented. “All this greenery – and we’ll need a way to trim plants back as bits die off. Can’t eat everything, no matter how long the trip is.”
She spared half a second to wonder if he’d had the neurochip upgrade to parse her brainwaves, then decided it didn’t matter. “Well, we made some upgrades there, too. Even the stems and vines of most plants in here are edible.”
“Hmm.” He poked a deep purple tomato. “How’s the taste? Tomato stalks are rather astringent, aren’t they?”
She tilted a shoulder down and winced. “Er…we’re still working on the aversion factor. It’s improved. But the rabbits still won’t eat them.”
“I’m sure we don’t want to make it overly attractive, even with containment.” He spun his hand over the spinach, batting the leaves gently.
Her phone pinged. “Excuse me. That’d be them again.” Kate cleared the alert, checked the desired hydration, and lifted her head to find him staring. “Um…hi.”
She broke the gaze, ducked her head, and reached for a water bottle with a spray attachment without looking, only to find her wrist caught. Her heart beat faster in response to his warm grip.
“They can alert?”
She nodded. “We turn it off before harvest. It’s not a pain signal, just information, but, well, this is unscientific, but it’s weird psychologically. No one likes it. Too much anthropomorphism, probably, after all the communication.”
“But they can alert.” He swooped closer, this time grabbing her around the waist, and swung her wildly around the greenhouse. An orchid chittered angrily from the rush of air as her foot swung too close, and her lab coat slipped off a shoulder.
She might have squeaked, but otherwise stared at him breathlessly. For a moment, his lips seemed close enough she questioned his intentions as well as her sanity.
“Dr. Irait — Kate — you just saved this colony.” Deep brown eyes tugged at her own.
She found her voice from where it had landed underneath her nice, safe microscope. “I don’t understand.”
“The latest sat photos show signs of heavy predator life. Get your intern up to speed, I’ll toss more bodies your way, and then I want you focusing on defensive plants. Venus fly traps, pitcher plants, ivy, bamboo. Hell, kudzu.”
“You want a separate, non-edible lab?”
“Exactly. Anything that will grow fast enough to defend a wide area and let us know when something’s trying to get in. But I don’t want my food fighting back.”
“Of course.” Or trapping the colony inside. Her mind started racing, staring at the broken ceiling tile without conscious thought.
” We won’t have enough people to defend everything.” Jonathan’s words interrupted her train of thought. “Biotech is the only solution we haven’t tried yet.”
“That’s why you’re here.” Something broke liquidly inside to know it was just business, though her starched lab coat professional side beamed with glee. That’d show those hoity-toity engineers!
He nodded. “That, and to see the one colony member I’d somehow yet to meet.” Jonathan gave a crooked smile and held out his hand. “I thought we might get along.”
She slipped her fingers into his, hesitant.
“Now, tell me about these electric butterflies.” He gestured to the tiny blue fluttering creatures, no bigger than one of those old pennies that still turned up on occasion.
“Pretty to study,” Kate answered, and nearly swallowed her tongue as he caressed her palm. “We thought maybe they’d work well as gifts, but probably won’t want them flying about on the ship. They’re terrible pollinators, as it turns out. We’re still working on it.”
“Perhaps a refocus. Maybe to have them swarm, say, a wiring fault, before sparks start flying.”
The rest of the time passed in a blur of banter and science. For once, the fieldwork came alive for Kate. Laughter, the way she’d felt about roots and shoots when she was a naïve undergrad, before science had become shadowed, filled with databases and hiding behind lenses.
After he left, trailing a hand against her cheek and promising to visit her new defensive lab as soon as she’d gotten established, she couldn’t help a shiver. The microscope couldn’t determine whether she’d been manipulated.
But maybe the spinach could.
***
This week, Kat and I shared electric butterflies, while I sent prairie dogs over to Becky. Check them all out over at MOTE!
