The Eden Project: Humanity's Last Chance (8 page)

Gen sensed she was intruding on a very protected and vulnerable place inside of him. She looked down at her feet and considered aborting her mission. The internal struggle was a ruse, she knew, to make herself feel better. She would not turn back, whatever the cost.

“I remember that day, Tuna. It was potato casserole day, your favorite.” Tuna did not smile at her attempt to lighten the mood. “You were both excited that night, but it wasn’t about my casserole.” She leaned her head to the side to peer into his eyes, but he turned away. “That was the day Doc Hossler stole the boat.”

He took sudden offense. “I had nothing to do with that. He did that all on his own.” He met her gaze briefly, but her probing eyes were too much and he pulled out his scrollpad and clicked it back on. “What’s your point in all this, Gen?”

She played back his words in her head. “He did that all on his own?” Somehow his words began to form a second meaning. “Ah, I think you meant Adam, not Doc Hossler. Adam helped Doc Hossler without you.” She knew she was right even before a flash of betrayal swept across his red cheeks. “Makes sense,” she concluded to herself, reviewing the events in her head. “You were with me, remember, under that tree. Adam was up there messing with the lookout crew.”

Tuna said nothing, but his miserable expression said it all.

“Okay, Tuna, but you were both excited when you came to dinner that night. Adam was beaming and that’s not like Adam. Not back then.”

“Really, Gen, what do you hope to accomplish with this?” Tuna lost his patience and became suddenly defiant. “Adam and I are model citizens of the dome these days. You want to know what we found? The past is useless, Gen. We found out the past is completely useless.”

“I knew it,” Gen beamed in victory. “You found something out.”

“I’m done here.” Tuna clicked a code into a wall panel and many of the screens powered down dimming the light in the room. He slid the scrollpad back into its holster and studied Gen’s eager face. He was no longer intimidated by her. “You should be happy,” he said, almost satisfied. “Adam’s no longer pushy or arrogant to any of us, especially you.”

“What could have possibly happened to turn such a self-righteous jerk into another Zeke?”

Tuna grinned widely at the Zeke comment, but empathy quickly overtook him. “You’re my friend. You need to trust me. Forget about everything but the future. There is nothing left for us here.” He walked to the door and waited for her to follow. He stopped there to meet her eyes. “One day soon we’ll step foot on a new planet and that’s when history can begin. We will build a new past.”

She exited ahead of Tuna. She hungered for the clarity Tuna and Adam had discovered that night in the briefing chamber, the night after Doc Hossler sailed out to sea.

Not only was there a new Adam, but Tuna had evolved. He was more confident. You could no longer bend him easily to your will. He had become a true leader, capable of discovering new worlds out beyond the reaches of the charted universe. He was the commanding officer of ES2.

She needed to discover their secret and she needed the clarity they derived from it. She had to know. She wanted to feel a clean break from this world and a healthy eagerness for the next like they did. Tuna would not supply them, but she would not stop until she had answers.

* * *

GEN DECIDED TO MAKE her way to the gardens of ES2 after all. She needed to walk among the plants in the fragrant air to calm her rising anxiety. The living, rooted reality of the crops made her feel more alive and rooted in her own body. These little, beautiful breathers magically changed water and carbon dioxide into sugar they can use for food
. So humanlike and resilient.

Plants gave her strength. Even the word
photosynthesis tickled her mouth when she spoke it, like the softest of kisses on her lips. Think of it. Using energy from the sun, a plant can transform carbon dioxide and water into glucose and oxygen. Food and air. Can there possibly be a more hopeful idea in the entire universe?

In her darkest imaginings of the decaying world, Gen would think of the natural world’s lust for life and those thoughts would always lead her back to the dream of a sunlit future.

Cassie was not one to have dark imaginings. She embraced her world with an ease that Gen had for so long tried to emulate. Gen walked down a row of leafy plants to find Cassie bent over mending a tomato plant.

Gen stopped at a distance to quietly watch her friend wrap a tiny piece of gauze around the break, binding it back together. “It’s only one plant, Cass.”

Cassie stood up, glanced back to Gen then returned her attention to the repaired plant. She smiled. “In this world, every plant is a miracle.” She wiped her hands on a towel. Gen’s mood lightened. The two girls exchanged a quick hug. “Wasn’t it you who once said that?”

“I’m afraid the girl who said that may no longer exist.”

Cassie bent her face disapprovingly. “Oh, really? We all have moods. Even the moon has a dark side.” Cassie packed up her stuff unconcerned with the fate of Gen’s soul.

“I don’t believe that. You don’t have a dark side.”

Cassie could not help but laugh. “Are you forgetting Tuna? He’s twice my size and shakes in his boots whenever I give him my angry face.” She walked past Gen who followed her through the gardens.

“That’s hardly a dark side. You adore each other. That’s obvious.”

Cassie stopped and grabbed Gen’s shoulder. “Did Tuna say he adored me?” Cassie beamed excitement. Her cheeks flushed.

Gen shook her head. “You two really make me sick, always gushing.”

Cassie enjoyed seeing Gen’s jealous frustration, but when they started to walk again she realized Gen had something on her mind. “Maybe you should tell me while we’re still alone.” Cassie set her bag down next to a bench by the door and took a seat.

“Tell you what?” Gen said avoiding Cassie’s eyes.

“I could guess, but what good would that do?” Cassie patted the bench next to her and Gen finally took a seat. She sat back and exhaled. Cassie touched Gen’s knee to reassure her.

“Have you noticed any change in Tuna?”

This took Cassie by surprise at first, but Gen could see recognition slowly building in her friend’s eyes. Cassie decided not to respond.

Gen sat up and tried to capture Cassie’s now elusive gaze. “You have noticed it, haven’t you?” Gen felt a great sense of relief. “It’s not just me. Tuna has changed, evolved, but why?”

“We’re growing up, that’s all,” Cassie said with no conviction.

“Something happened. He barely speaks with Adam and they both have become such pillars of the project.” Gen spilled over with enthusiasm which began to unnerve Cassie.

“They ask us to be pillars of the project. We’re the original eight after all. It’s in the protocol, Gen.” Cassie grabbed the handles of her bag becoming impatient.

“Tuna has a secret.” Gen said, thinking out loud. Cassie listened to her intently. “Whatever’s happened, he’s much stronger now. We’ll never get it out of him. And Adam? Forget it. He’s like some warrior of virtue now.” Gen hung her head. “He barely notices me.”

Cassie looked down to her bag and fiddled with the handles. “I’m sure it’s with great effort.”

Gen turned to Cassie as if surfacing from a dream. “What do you mean? What great effort?”

Cassie picked up her bag, set it on her lap. “Adam. It’s with great effort that he does not notice you.”

Among all her many grave concerns, Adam’s affections should be on the bottom of Gen’s list, but the opposite was true. Cassie’s words were like a lifeboat appearing the moment before drowning. Adam could not possibly avoid looking or speaking with her unless it was with great effort. He noticed and talked with everyone else, but Gen alone was singled out and avoided. He made no effort for anyone but her.

Cassie watched Gen connecting with thoughts that gave her comfort. Regret overtook Cassie fearing her words had undone what Adam had tried so hard to do. He was obviously trying to break his unhealthy bond with Gen which could only end badly for all.

“As for Tuna and his secrets,” Cassie stated loudly trying to recapture Gen’s attention, “he has always had them. He’s kept a diary since he was eight years old.” Their eyes finally met. Cassie had succeeded in getting Gen’s mind off Adam.

“He keeps a diary?” Gen asked, trying to remain calm, but something about Tuna’s diary excited her.

Cassie stood and finally put her bag over her shoulder. “Yeah, I’ve come across him in his quarters when he was journaling. I knock and he doesn’t hear me.” Cassie smiled to Gen in a way that let Gen know it was time to leave. “I think it’s cute, don’t you?”

Gen nodded unconvincingly while they walked out of the gardens and into the corridor. Cassie smacked her lips together and searched for a way to put her friend’s mind at ease. “Whatever happened, Gen, has made those two boys clear of purpose. And that’s a good thing.”

Cassie’s well-intentioned words gave Gen direction, but not the direction Cassie had hoped. Gen needed to find out the truth now more than ever, because the only thing she knew for sure was that her own purpose was no longer clear.

Gen cloaked her eagerness with a friendly smile. “You’re right as usual, Cass.” She could see her words’ positive effects on Cassie. “And I can tell you don’t mind.”

“Don’t mind what?” Cassie said, regaining her good mood.

“That your man’s getting serious and taking charge.”

“You noticed, huh?” The red returned to Cassie’s cheeks. “And speaking of pillars, perhaps you should appreciate Zeke a little more. He’s always been a pillar of the Project.”

Maybe she should, Gen thought, but not now. There were much more pressing matters on her mind. When she wandered into the gardens of ES2 she had done so thinking her quest had come to a dead end, but leaving the ship only moments later she realized her visit to ES2 had not put an end to her quest but given it new life.

She was lucky to be alive. The staff protocol allowed for the elimination of any personnel knowingly jeopardizing the security of the project. Instead Doctor Quarna decided to restrict her access to the absolute minimum that would allow her to continue her general consultations with the children regarding their physical and emotional well being.

For the past four months Doctor Becker was only able to move from her quarters to her lab. Staff meetings were held without her. The other doctors ate together in the staff commissary while she ate alone. She submitted weekly reports via her scrollpad on any behavioral issues occurring among the children. Any response to a report was also received via scrollpad.

She was isolated to an island within the island and so when the invitation to join the others at ten that morning in conference room A arrived in her INBOX, she was both eager to see her colleagues and leery of what news might be waiting for her there.

In those four long months she concentrated on her work with the children and tried to keep her mind off the fate of Doctor Hossler and his grandson. The three best of those dark days were the days she received unexpected visits from a colleague.

The first to visit was Doctor Wescott who had made the crossing with her on a small navy vessel when they arrived to the island all those years ago. His dry sense of humor had helped her first with motion sickness and later was often the only diversion inside their glass prison while everything and everyone she loved slowly, one-by-one, disappeared from the world she had left behind.

Eventually the regular reports from the outside became fewer and farther between. The governmental structure succumbed to flash outbreaks which often wiped out a secure enclave in a matter of days. How grateful she was that the Eden Project had always managed to isolate an infected staff member early and that seven of them have survived all these years to prepare the kids for their journey of salvation out beyond the stars.

When she asked Doctor Wescott if there had been any word about Doctor Hossler, he smiled sympathetically and pulled on his ear to remind her of what she already knew. Big brother was listening and he could not talk about anything but the weather. They settled on talking about romantic movies of centuries gone by which they had often watched together before she had become isolated.

They fondly remembered twenty-seven years into the past when Lotte was a teenager and Jim Wescott was just finishing medical school. Crowds of people would still meet in theaters and stadiums with no fear of infections or viruses or marauding cannibals.

Their parting that day was as sweetly sorrowful as a farewell scene from any of their favorite romantic films, the black and white ones made many centuries ago.

The next month Claudia came by one morning for a short visit and by then Doctor Becker knew to avoid anything but pleasantries. They had a laugh remembering a five-year-old Tuna trying to build himself a robot friend named Marco. He said he would build Marco to always let him win every game they played. By Claudia’s estimation Tuna would have been capable of building Marco by the time he was nine but by then he had grown out of that sweetest part of childhood. All the children had.

The kids had grown up too fast, they agreed. They parted that day bittersweetly, motherless women longing for simpler times, for bread baking in the oven on a holiday, for a baby sleeping warmly in their arms on a cold winter night.