Botanicaust (33 page)

“
Why not burn the fields? We keep the plants down that way.
”

Laughing, the doctor said,
“
Ah, mankind never changes. Where do you think the name
Botanicaust
comes from? Burning was no better than herbicides. Without vegetation to hold the soil in place, the land became a dustbowl.
Until the amarantox moved back in.
Needless to say, my husband was fired.
”
Dr. Rice set the diagnostic chair on autosurgeon to cleanse Levi
’
s exposed wounds then looked up. A quiver raced through Tula as she met the doctor
’
s blood red stare.
“
Your turn.
”

H
aldanian Protectorate

Under the fiber-optic light above his desk, Vitus held out a wrist to admire the lapis bracelet and matching ring
—
a gift from the new psychiatric intern who wanted to make a good impression. He was flattered. He
’
d never been able to wear lapis because the blue made his skin appear more jaundiced.

Today the back of his hand remained
a bright
malachite green, even after ten days without treatment. And it wasn
’
t his imagination this time. The spectrometer had confirmed chlorophyll stabilization in his sample cells this morning. The longevity research was finally taking root.

Vitus was on the cutting edge of conversion technology
—
a perfect test subject because of the natural senescence of his chloroplasts. Symbiotic fungi in his body should replicate telomerase ad infinitum, freeing him of the need for treatments forever.

And his team wondered why he never let them give him the standard telomerase treatments. He snorted. Primitive. Only a handful of people knew about the project
—
the highest officials in the Protectorate, and natural born, every one. Oh, how he looked forward to rubbing this in the faces of all the people who had pitied his ripening.

Once the research was perfected, Vitus would live forever. Then he would eradicate the cannibal weeds swarming the surface of the earth.

He tapped his access code into his vidcom. While he waited for a response, he straightened the silver chain around his neck. He
’
d have to hint around that he needed lapis beads to match his new bracelet.

The vidcom image popped to life on the glossy surface of his desk
—
a pale face with arterial red eyes.
“
Dr. Dedecus.
”
Kaneka
’
s voice greeted him with the usual superior impassiveness. For once, Vitus
’
smile was genuine. He didn
’
t like Kaneka
—
those eyes disturbed him
—
but today he felt magnanimous.

“
Kaneka. Seems the latest combination of enzymes is holding steady. I
’
m forwarding the spectrometer and diagnostic data now.
”
Vitus settled back into his chair to give the Fosselite a broader view of his magnificent skin and rubbed his chin just to show the camera a flash of his new bracelet.

He chuckled to himself. Not only would he have chloroplasts, but immortality. Even the Fosselites were a step behind him, physically unable to accept the introduction of foreign plastids into their current longevity treatments.

The red-eyed doctor
’
s scrutiny showed no appreciation.
“
Mmmm. The scan shows excessive production of naive T cells. I need you to come here for a bone marrow sample.
”

Vitus twitched. He hated going to that cave the Fosselites called home. Not to mention the pain of a biopsy.
“
I
’
ll have my people send you a sample.
”

“
I suppose that would work.
”
Kaneka paused.
“
But I had hoped to reunite you with one of your reversions.
”

“
Why?
”
Vitus snorted.
“
Those weeds are dead to me.
”

Part of the deal with the Fosselites was to send them test subjects. The higher-ups chose to be
“
unaware
”
of this part of the arrangement. Vitus didn
’
t care. He was in the perfect position to facilitate the project. Rather than waste conversion resources already invested, he signed the euthanization papers and then sent reversions north. It wasn
’
t like anyone would miss them. What the Fosselites did with them was their business.
Unless they succeed with one of those weeds and don
’
t give the cure to me.

He sat forward, glaring into the screen.
“
You
’
d better not break our deal, Kaneka. If you
’
ve discovered something new
…
”

An unnerving smile twisted the corners of Kaneka
’
s lips.
“
She
’
s asked for asylum. We
’
d like to know what she is worth to you before we decide her fate.
”

For a few heartbeats, Vitus processed Kaneka
’
s words. He hadn
’
t sent any reversions in months.

Who -?
His eyes widened as he realized whom Kaneka must be talking about. Shaking, he leapt from his chair, sending it skittering back to hit the wall behind him. He leaned closer to the pale image, nostrils flaring.
“
That weed actually reached you?
”

“
She and her companion are a bit worse for wear.
”

When the Council voted to give her a trial if she came back, Vitus had stormed from the meeting. She
’
d obviously reverted. His disgust with the Board made him want to vomit. But they never located her, and Vitus found joy in visualizing her tortuous death in the desert.
But she lives
. If the Fosselites gave her amnesty, she
’
d have access to the longevity treatments.
“
She
’
s a reversion. I demand her euthanization immediately.
”

“
She says she is one of your Conversion Psychiatrist.
”

Vitus
’
s lips contorted, baring his teeth.
“
Don
’
t you dare offer her
asylum!
Do you hear me? She lost all rights when she reverted.
”

“
Dr. Dedecus, we don
’
t want any trouble over this.
Now or later.
Perhaps we should talk to your superiors
—
”

“
I want her to suffer!
”
Flecks of spittle dotted the screen on the desk.
“
I
’
m
the one in control of reversions. If she gets longevity treatments, I promise you
’
ll never see another test subject again!
”

“
I see.
”
Dr. Kaneka steepled his fingers below his chin.
“
Well, we do need more test subjects. The ones you send keep dying.
”

The Fosselite Mountain

Tula opened an eye and checked on Levi from where she lay next to him on the bed. Her own room was next door, but she wanted him to wake to something familiar. His eyes moved rapidly beneath his lids, the dream grasping him firmly in its hold. His lips twitched, grimaced, relaxed.
A good dream or a bad dream?
She stroked the back of her hand along his jaw. Her super sensitized skin prickled at the contact of his soft stubble, but she didn
’
t stop. What would it be like to kiss those lips now that she was free of her UV chemicals?

She
’
d forgotten how bad telomerase therapy hurt. How many children had she talked through it? Told to be strong?
Too many to count.
The analgesics Dr. Rice gave her didn
’
t do a thing. And the treatment wasn
’
t even a full conversion. Mo underwent this every few months, and she never remembered him complaining. How did he bear it?

She
’
d managed to keep quiet as the chemicals entered her bloodstream, burning their way across her skin and into her organs and tissues. And she
’
d found the strength to walk herself to their appointed rooms as an escort pushed Levi
’
s gurney. But now, with no one but an unconscious Levi to hear her, she murmured a little song she used to sing to the children to comfort them. It wasn
’
t working.

As if sensing her thoughts, Levi opened his lids, his eyes immediately finding hers. She jerked her hand away from his cheek, but he caught it, his big, warm palm grasping hers with
an urgency
she found disconcerting.
“
Tula. I thought I
’
d lost you.
”

She shook her head, words escaping her.

He pulled her hand against his chest and rolled to face her, his other arm drawing her close. She gasped, ripples of sensation
—
not quite pain, and not quite pleasure
—
coursing from his sudden touch.
“
Tula?
”
He eased his grasp.

“
I
’
m okay,
”
she assured him as much as herself. She tried to recall how long new converts complained about telomerase aftereffects.
A few hours?
She
’
d worked hard to distract the children as they recovered, offering candy and games, movies and whatever entertainment seemed to ease them. Many of the younger ones wanted to be cuddled. Mo never complained at all, just sat outside and let new UV soak into his skin. Maybe she needed to go outside.

Levi carefully traced a palm up her back to cup the back of her neck, sending intense shivers to the tips of her fingers and toes.
“
Did she hurt you?
”

Tula blinked.
“
Who?
”

“
That doctor woman.
”

Dr. Rice.
“
No. The medicine. It makes me
…
”
She didn
’
t want to say
hurt
. Levi
’
s hands did not hurt. She liked the way he touched her. But she couldn
’
t think of a word to use.