The Gardener

DATE: Year 308-B, Sol 490

LOCATION: Sky City 7 (Venus)

STATUS: Hydroponics Bay

Bit wiped his hands on his oversized jumpsuit. He was kneeling in the center of the hydroponics deck.

When the refugees had arrived, this room had been a graveyard of dead plastic and dried algae. Now, it was a jungle.

-Pressure holding at ninety percent, Bit muttered to himself.

He tapped the gauge on the irrigation line. It was an old MTC fuel pump he had scrubbed clean and repurposed. It chugged rhythmically, pushing nutrient-rich water through the PVC pipes.

Bit reached out and touched the vine in front of him. Hanging from the green stem was a single, perfect sphere. It was starting to turn red.

A real tomato. Not paste. Not powder. A fruit.

Bit smiled. He adjusted the bracelet on his left wrist, a loose string of heavy wooden beads that kept sliding down his forearm. He shook his wrist to settle them.

Three times for a miracle.

The blast door open.

A massive figure stepped in. It was The Welder. She wore a heavy leather apron and a mask pushed up on her forehead.

-You’re gonna drown those roots, kid, The Welder rumbled.

-They’re thirsty, Bit said, not looking up. The humidity cycler is acting up again. I need a spare compressor coil.

The Welder grunted. She walked over and inspected the tomato.

-Red, she said.

-It’ll be ready to eat in a week, Bit said proudly. I’m saving the first one for Jimi.

The Welder went quiet. She took a rag from her pocket and wiped grease from her hands.

-Bit, she started gently.

-Did you check the scope? Bit interrupted, standing up.

-I checked the scope.

-And?

-Nothing, kid.

Bit frowned. He adjusted the prayer beads again.

-You checked the long-range bands? The deep radar?

-We check them, the Welder said. There’s no transponder signal. The Sparrow isn't out there.

-He’s flying dark, Bit said quickly. He does that to save power. Or maybe he’s in the drift. You can't see ships in the drift.

The Welder sighed. She put a heavy hand on Bit’s shoulder.

-It’s been fifteen days, Bit. It’s a long run to Jupiter. And an old ship.

-He made it, Bit said. He was stating a fact. He’s a good pilot. The best.

-You wouldn’t know, The Welder said. Space is big. And old ships break.

-Not the Sparrow, Bit said. I fixed the Sparrow.

He pulled away from The Welder’s hand and went back to the pump. He grabbed a wrench and tightened a flange that didn't need tightening.

-He’s coming back, Bit said to the tomato plant. He promised. And he’s bringing Market back. And then we’re going to make sauce.

The Welder watched the boy for a moment. She saw the oversized beads dangling from the thin wrist.

-Alright, kid, The Welder said softly. I’ll check the scopes again at shift change.

-Check the thermal bands too, Bit called out.

-Yeah. I’ll check the thermals.

The Welder turned to leave. At the door, she looked back at the green oasis in the middle of the rusting city.

-Save me some seeds, gardener.

-Get me that compressor coil, Bit retorted.

The door hissed shut.

Bit was alone again. He put down the wrench. He touched the prayer beads. One. Two. Three.

He looked up at the UV lights, imagining they were stars.

-Hurry up Jimi.