“Wicked sweet,” Chris exclaimed excitedly. “You modeled all of Terrene?”
“Well most of the model is nowhere near as detailed or as accurate as the flower,” admitted Ashton. “But the soil samples and other data that Mom, I mean Dr. Ingram and the other researchers have brought back help us fill in the details that the satellite interferometry and remote airborne units didn’t quite capture. We know that our climate and ecology models are close, but not quite correct.”
Ashton made some more motions, filling the valley with a system of aqueducts. “The models are accurate enough, however to start experimenting with different irrigation models, housing models, and residence models. We can start bringing the researchers in next week to run some simulations.”
“Wait, how is building an irrigation system in the computer better than the ones we actually built in Terrene this summer?” Mai-lin asked. Jane caught her glancing at the callouses on her hands which she had earned from doing just that.
“Well, first of all, it’s a lot easier for us to do it here,” Ashton replied as he quickly drew in new aqueducts and pipes through the valley. “But more importantly, we can also adjust the number of fields, the types of crops, and the weather models. And then we speed things up.” Suddenly the sun set on Terrene. Then it rose, set, rose, set. Things sped up until all they saw were shifting colors along the valley. “You see, we can simulate the effects of specific design decisions over years, decades, even centuries. Is it better to build houses out of packed earth or out of baked mud? We can run the simulation over a hundred years and compare the two.”
“We only have one shot with Terrene,” Bryce interjected. “We need to make sure that we do it right.”
Ashton nodded. “Now let me flip you to a starboard view.”
“Starboard?” Jane asked.
“Oh sorry, I meant north.” Ashton said as they flew around to the other side. “See, from this view, Terrene kind of looks like the hull of a ship.” Indeed it did. The oval shape of the valley was slightly pointed on the left, like the bow of a ship. The valley itself was a little longer from east to west, and the right side was a little more square, like the stern of a ship. Jane could imagine the valley cutting through waves as it carried them into a new era of humanity.
“The techies here started calling it the Ark,” Ashton continued. “You know, global warming is kind of like the biblical flood. Bryce is like a modern day Noah, building a giant ark to save all the animals.” Chris laughed and nodded, causing Ashton to beam brightly. “Actually, I thought of the name.” Ashton said. “It seemed kind of fitting with the saving of humanity and all. Anyhow, it caught on. So now we call the northern station, Starboard Station. The new one on the southern mountain will be Port Station. And we’ve kind of dubbed Central HQ the Poop Deck.” He laughed nervously.
“Yes, that’s all wonderful,” Bryce said dismissively. “But wasn’t there a special simulation you wanted to run for us?” Bryce flashed his signature smile, catching Jane’s attention. That smile usually meant he was trying to sell something.
Ashton looked uncertain. He glanced over in the direction of Chris and Jane.
“Go ahead,” prodded Bryce.
“Um, yeah, so I’ve programmed a special simulation...” Ashton said, his voice cracking slightly. “It’s a unique crop arrangement scenario.” His fingers fluttered quickly beneath the black globes. The sun moved to the right and then quickly disappeared. Then they zoomed in so that it appeared that they were looking at the valley from Port Station. “Chris,” he said. “I’d like to show you a special sunrise.”
A shaft of light appeared over the mountains on the left as the sun climbed out from its nighttime slumber. Jane could feel the warmth of the morning rays of light settling on her face. The light struck the valley, drawing a vertical line down the meadows that separated night and day. The line sped to the right as the sun rose into the sky, spawning the blooming of brilliant colors as it breathed life into the valley.
“Oh my God,” Chris exclaimed. Jane tore her eyes away from the beautiful view in time to see Chris tackle Ashton and then plant a kiss on his delighted face. “Yes,” she cried. “Yes.” Jane looked back at the image of Terrene. Across the valley, the following words were spelled out in colorful blooms: “Darling Chris, will you marry me?”
************
In a very different place, dawn also arrived. Flora’s eyes snapped open. “I know where the Port is.”
Chapter 14: The Promise
Flora tried hard not to breathe. This was not the plan. A bead of sweat trickled down her forehead. She fought the desire to brush it away. Any movement might draw his attention. Her muscles ached from holding their position. At this rate, he would soon be able to hear the throbbing of her muscles and the pounding of her heart. How had she gotten herself into this?
************
Three weeks ago, she had woken up with a new purpose. Hope was alive again. She knew where the Port was and could finally finish the task that her father had started. If only she had known where the Port was before Sagerius passed away.
Flora went to Mendel first. He suggested that she bring the information to Devindry. She was the only ally they had who might be powerful enough to do something with the information. Approaching Romulus was out of the question. After Sagerius’ death, Romulus had cemented his hold as the leader of the Institute and proceeded to ban all mention of the ancients. The fledgling underground movement wilted, and scholars flocked to join the ranks of his personal guard who now enforced a nightly curfew. Rumor had it that Romulus would march into Terrene by mid-Spring, and that was only a few months away.
Mendel asked everyone in their cohort to try to contact Devindry to no avail. She steadfastly refused to speak with Flora. Any hints that Bunsen dropped her way were resolutely ignored. It became clear to Mendel that Master Devindry had decided to back Romulus. “We’re fortunate that she hasn’t turned you in as a conspirator,” said Mendel. “She’s likely doing you a favor, probably out of some sense of reciprocity for your previous work.”
“She’s probably just trying to save her own neck,” Aster said. “If Romulus knew she was the organizer of the Underground, he’d have her stripped of her title before she could say ‘Now children’.”
Flora had invited the boys over to the girls’ room for games. They were playing cards as usual, but their conversation was anything but casual.
“But who else is there to turn to?” asked Kava.
“That’s why I asked you guys to come here,” Flora said. “There is no one else to turn to. I’ve decided to bring the Portkey to the Port myself.” She could hear Jane’s voice in her head as she spoke. “I want to save the world, and this is a good place to start. Jane, my father and Sagerius are all depending on me.”
“But Terrene is the world,” Garland said. “And here at the Institute, we can be leaders. Going out on some crazy journey sounds…”
“It sounds dangerous,” finished Stalk.
“I have to do this,” Flora insisted. “I always thought I was just curious about the outside world, but now I know it was more than that. This is my purpose.”
“And we are going to provide her aid,” Mendel said.
“That’s right,” agreed Aster. “We’re going to help her.”
“You guys are crazy,” Stalk said. He glanced nervously at the door and then spoke in a hushed tone. “What does knowing where the Port is buy you? Romulus has the Portkey. He wears it around his neck every day. He’s not just going to give it to you and send you on your way.”
“You’re right,” Flora said. “We’re going to steal it.”
“Count me in,” Bunsen said, speaking for the first time that night. “I’m behind you one hundred percent.” Flora smiled at him thankfully. Bunsen continued to surprise her. Behind his pudgy exterior lay a real rebel.
Stalk groaned. “No Bunsen, this is crazy,” Stalk said. “We don’t know what we?
??re doing. We’ll get caught, and then...”
“We’re in too,” Kava and Aster said together.
Crick, who had been sulking quietly in the corner, got up. “I can’t be here for this discussion,” he said and walked out of the room.
“He’s right,” Stalk said. “Garland, Crick and I are in Romulus’ personal guard now. No one’s under more daily scrutiny than the guard. It’s just too risky for us. We gotta bail.” He quickly followed Crick out of the room.
“Crap,” Aster said.
“Such wimps,” muttered Kava.
“Hey guys,” Garland said. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll go talk with them and make sure they don’t rat us out.” He smiled apologetically at Flora. “But he was right about being under a lot of scrutiny. I won’t be able to help you directly without attracting too much attention.” Flora’s heart dropped a bit as Garland walked out the door, but she couldn’t let it distract her. She had something more important to deal with now, and she needed to focus.
“Well, that makes five of us then,” Aster said. “Let’s get to work.”
************
A week later, they had formulated a plan and were ready to put it into action. Romulus wore the Portkey around his neck every day. He took it off presumably only at night when he went to sleep. They needed to sneak Flora into Romulus’ bedchambers after he had fallen asleep and back out again without being seen.
The first part of the plan worked perfectly. Being in Governance, Kava had arranged for Bunsen to work in the cafeteria that day. Bunsen had been sneaking doses of Valerian extract from the agriculture labs all week. The acid made from crushed Valerian petals acted as a sedative and muscle relaxant. Bunsen slipped some into Romulus’ soup at dinner, ensuring that he would fall into a deep and peaceful sleep that night.
As usual, Romulus retired to his bedchambers at 10:30. Mendel walked past him in the hallway nonchalantly, noticing that the Grandmaster looked a bit weary. Mendel smiled. Everything was going well so far. Now they just had to get Flora out of their residential block during curfew. Mendel was ready for that.
The guard on duty tonight was named Manchu Goldwin. Garland had introduced Mendel to Manchu a few days ago over dinner. Manchu had been a guard for over ten years and was loud, boisterous, well-liked, and had a propensity for games of skill. He was particularly fond of a game called Baduk, which was played with black and white stones on a 19 by 19 grid. When Mendel challenged him to a game, Manchu scoffed at the apprentice.
“I haven’t lost a game in three years,” he said. “What makes you think you can defeat me?”
“I seek only the joys of the challenge,” Mendel had replied. “And the reward of improvement.”
“Well then,” chuckled Manchu. “I’ll let you take black then.” In Baduk, the black player started first. “And you may start with two stones,” Manchu added graciously, giving himself a handicap.
By this time, a small crowd had gathered, mostly other guards. Almost everyone at the Institute had played Baduk before, and it was well known that Manchu was the best. No one could resist seeing an apprentice get a good beating.
Before becoming friends with Flora, Mendel’s best friend was himself. He spent several hours each day playing Baduk. But since he was so much better than anyone else, he had to play both sides of the board in order to make it challenging. Mendel was truly thrilled to be playing against Manchu. Just minutes after the start of the game, Manchu’s mocking smile was replaced by a look of intense concentration. The room filled with silence as the two battled it out.
After a tense half hour, both players passed, signaling the end of the game. They tallied up the scores, and Mendel came out ahead by a single stone. But far from being upset, Manchu was ecstatic. “My friend,” he said, putting his arm around Mendel’s shoulders. “Finally I have met someone capable of making this game challenging again. I had begun to think that I should only play against myself!”
Mendel smiled. “Likewise,” he said. “Before today, I’ve only played against myself.”
Manchu gave Mendel a shake. “So,” he said. “When do we play again?”
Conveniently for Flora, Mendel had suggested that they play tonight, after curfew in Mendel’s room. “No problem,” Manchu had said. “Nothing ever happens after curfew anyways. If something did, I could hear it from your room.”
That’s how at 11:30 at night, an hour after Romulus had gone to bed and thirty minutes after the start of the Institute-wide curfew, the guard who was supposed to be guarding Flora’s residence block knocked on Mendel’s door. Flora was waiting in her room with her ear pressed up against her door where she heard Mendel welcome Manchu into his room across the hallway. When she heard the door close, she started counting to thirty.
She glanced down at her robes. She had spent the last hour agonizing over whether to wear her sleeping clothes or her scholar robes. Aster had insisted that she wear her sleeping clothes so that if she was caught, it would look like she had just gotten up to fetch some water. Flora shivered at the thought of being questioned by guards while wearing just her thin, sheer sleeping gown. Aside from being completely embarrassed, she’d be freezing as well. She opted for her scholar robes. If she got caught, well, she didn’t want to think that could happen. “Thirty,” she whispered to herself as she carefully opened her door and peered out into the hallway.
The corridors were dimly lit as the light strands pulsed gently in their hibernation state. Flora tiptoed out into the deserted hallway, her skin tingling nervously. She quickly made her way to the north side of the Institute, keeping to the walls in case there were any other guards out in the hallways. Luckily, she didn’t run into any and soon found herself in front of Romulus’ bedchamber. She gently put her ear against the door. If Romulus suddenly yanked the door open, she would topple onto his floor, withering under his smoldering gaze. But the door remained closed, and Flora couldn’t hear any movement inside.
Flora examined the door. Romulus’ bedchamber was one of the few rooms in the Institute to have a miniature key lock. Aster explained to her that the lock was similar to the one they had encountered in the Garden of Tools except much simpler. This type of lock only had three tumblers rather than six. The Tools laboratory had some similar locks in storage, and Aster had studied these closely. As Romulus’ key must push each tumbler either up or down, there were only eight possible combinations. Aster had painstakingly created eight keys for Flora. One of them should open the lock.
Flora pulled the first key out of her robe and slid it into the door. The grinding of the teeth as they ticked past the tumblers sounded like an avalanche to Flora’s hypersensitive ears. She tried to turn the key. It didn’t budge. Flora carefully pulled the key back out, wincing from the sound. She imagined tiny elves in the lock banging loudly on metal cans. “Shush,” she told them. She tried the next one. Again, nothing. What if none of these keys worked? She would have to return empty handed. A part of her thought that maybe failure wasn’t that bad of an outcome. It was better than being caught. But then, on the fifth key, the lock turned.
The door swung open silently. Flora ducked her head in first. Her eyes went immediately to the large lump in the bed. Romulus was sleeping on his side, turned away from the door. Good. Flora slipped into the room and closed the door quickly behind her. It was pitch dark in Romulus’ bedchamber, but Flora didn’t dare risk using a light. Instead, she stayed absolutely still, waiting for her eyes to adjust. Seeing nothing, Flora felt around with her other senses. A potpourri of odors drifted to her nose, an odd mixture of fragrant flowers used to cover up the underlying body odor that permeated the room. As the room faded into view, Flora’s eyes flicked to the light tube in the ceiling that brought starlight in from the Glasshouse yet didn’t ventilate the room. Flora crinkled her nose. The room could certainly use some fresh air.
Without moving from her spot, she glanced around desperately for the Portkey. She wanted to grab it and get out fast. The room was
rather spartan, and the one table against the wall was completely empty. Robes of all sizes and colors were hung separately on the walls. Romulus certainly liked his outfits. There was a shelf with some books and an assortment of objects that Flora didn’t recognize against one wall, but no Portkey. She really hoped that Romulus didn’t sleep with it around his neck. She walked closer to the bed to check.
Two feet away from the bed, Flora saw it. The Portkey seemed to emit a faint violet glow, almost as if it had its own source of light. It was lying on a pillow next to Romulus’ head, his fingers just inches from the chain. Flora reached forward carefully to snatch the necklace from the pillow. But just at that moment, Romulus flipped over, turning his face towards Flora. She pulled her hand back in panic, her instincts telling her to run. But Romulus’ eyes remained shut. Bunsen had said that he couldn’t promise how strongly Romulus would react to the sedative, but he hoped he would stay locked in a deep sleep. Flora certainly hoped so as well.
Just as Flora started to reach once more, Romulus’ eyes snapped open. “No!” he cried. “Don’t leave me.”
************
Flora stayed frozen for what seemed an eternity. Romulus hadn’t moved. His eyes remained open, but they weren’t looking at Flora. They seemed to be fixed on something that existed only in his mind. Tears glistened in his eyes. Was he dreaming? If so, did that mean that he wouldn’t see her if she moved? She couldn’t risk it.
She stood there trapped in silence. Looking upon Romulus’ tense body, she felt that he was trapped too. Though his body lay dormant, a wrinkling of the brow and a slight twitch of an eyebrow betrayed the intense emotion that coursed through Romulus’ body. Flora watched as his lips formed a single word. “Why?” he whispered. And then his eyes fluttered once and then closed.