Chapter Four

Esteban’s eyes widened. This he had experience with. Though he wasn’t a botanist, he’d spent plenty of time in the hydroponics bay, helping to ensure the best conservation of water and optimum plant growing mix. It had been worked on for generations, of course, before him, but life in the Sanctuary was about continuous improvement. He’d enjoyed being around the plants, smelling the moisture, taking in their green beauty. And he’d been glad of the presence of other plants throughout the underground tunnels.

He took the small pot in his hands when Gaylen offered it, and looked it over. He brought it to his face, getting a good look at the leaves. It was barely past the first shoots but the first little leaves had an unmistakable pattern.

“It’s a tomato, isn’t it?” he said with a triumphant smile.

Gaylen’s eyebrows shot up, and after a moment, he nodded. “Or something very much like it. We’ve gathered them from the foothills, and they haven’t killed us yet.” He chuckled at his own joke and then took the pot back, gently placing it in its cabinet. “I thought you were an engineer. You should have told me you knew so much about plants.”

Esteban shrugged. “I don’t really. I mean, I spent a lot of time working around them.”

“Still, we wouldn’t have wasted so much time trying to find you something else to do if I’d known,” Gaylen reiterated with a smile. Then he opened a drawer in an ancient filing cabinet, its rollers protesting against the action, and pulled out various cloth bags. Each had been labeled, the names of plants delicately embroidered into the cloth.

He handed them to Esteban, who read, “Lettuce, beans, squash...” He left the rest, feeling the heft of the bags in his hands instead. “Are these seeds?”

Gaylen took one and carefully untied the string that held it together. Then he opened it in his hands to reveal large, brown beans that had been preserved. “We’ve been saving the seeds of everything we find. There’s a library a few blocks away. Some of the books survived the war. They’re very delicate but we managed to read some of them. I matched the plants we’ve found to pictures and descriptions in the books. Of course, there was the chance some of them were poisonous so we haven’t eaten those.”

Esteban’s mouth fell open. “Everything in the Sanctuary was carefully preserved from before. I couldn’t imagine trying to do something like this. The work, the time...” He looked up at Gaylen, who was still smiling. “What?”

“You are now,” his friend answered. “I think I’ve managed a good mix of soil, at least for the tomatoes. You want to help me plant a few more things, see if they’ll grow?”

Esteban nodded enthusiastically and the two of them got to work. By the time they were finished, they'd filled half the pots. They’d planted a few of everything, conserving the rest of the seeds in case the first ones didn’t sprout, and they’d planted the rest of the tomatoes. All of the newly planted pots went in to various cabinets like the one the tomato seedling was in. It seemed odd to Esteban, and as they walked back into the lean-to, he brought it up.

“You’ve put together a pretty controlled environment in the greenhouse, so why do you keep the planted pots hidden away?” he asked.

The two of them sat down at Gaylen’s tiny table, Esteban in the chair and Gaylen at the edge of the bed. The blue-eyed man looked up at the question, and Esteban saw him frown, for perhaps the first time.

Before he could answer, Esteban said, “You’re afraid someone will steal them.”

Gaylen nodded somberly. “Yes, but not in the way you think. You see, the Sanctuary doesn’t just dump refugees up here, they also conduct patrols.”

Esteban’s breath caught in his throat. “Why in the world would they care what was going on up here? We’ve always been told that this is...”

“Yes, I know, ‘nothing survives on the outside’, ‘there’s nothing except mutated monsters in The City’. We know, we’ve heard. The truth is, quite a few of these people used to live there, just like you did. The Sanctuary is afraid that some of them might figure out a way to contact someone below, might find a way to get the truth out. It might be a long shot that anyone would want to come and live our way of life but I think the people who run the Sanctuary might be afraid of them having the choice.”

“Control,” Esteban said grimly. He shook his head, though, not quite wanting to believe the implications. “You mean, they’d take your plants?”

“Or simply destroy them. Things like that have happened before. They don’t come often. I don’t think they care about us that much, but that’s why the only way into the greenhouse is through my secret door.” Gaylen smiled again, proud of his own cleverness. Esteban’s look was still somber though, causing Gaylen’s own expression to falter. He took a breath and said, “Tell me what it was like there, in the Sanctuary.”

His friend looked up from where he’d been staring at his clasped hands on the table. “I thought you already knew about it.”

“Bits and pieces. I want to know what your life was like.”

Esteban shook his head. “Routine. Routine is what life is in the Sanctuary. It’s a closed system that’s lasted for generations because everyone did what was needed, what they were assigned to do.”

“Cogs in a wheel then,” Gaylen commented.

“Yes, exactly. It required everyone to do what they needed to do for everything to run smoothly.”

Gaylen nodded. “It’s efficient. Things aren’t so different here, are they?”

“No, I suppose not...But it is different. You have choices and individuality. Things happen randomly, like the weather, and who you spend your time with, and what you end up eating for dinner.” When Gaylen chuckled, he smiled, and then looked back down at his hands. “I was born thirty-five years ago, and though I knew who my parents were, spent time with them here and there, I was mostly raised by the Sanctuary, in schools set up to teach children from the time they were born.”

“I’ve heard them called group homes.”

“Yes. Children are matched for aptitude, genetics, and the like, and placed in environments that are meant to grow their particular potentials. They could tell early on that I was curious and had an aptitude for math and building things. That aptitude shaped everything about the way I was raised. Very little is left to chance or choice.” At the pained look on his friend’s face, he chuckled and waved it away. “It’s just how life was. It’s not like I suffered for it or disliked who I became and what I was doing. It’s just how life was.”

“Yet you got involved in protests and were exiled.”

“Yeah, there is that.” The two of them laughed and then Esteban added, “Not everyone was as lucky as I was. Most of the basic systems are automated, but there were plenty of people forced to do hard, unforgiving labor for very little benefit. They were the ones whose...genetics didn’t go so well.”

“You mean they weren’t as apt as the others?”

“Exactly. There’s a certain prejudice in the Sanctuary against them. They’re sort of thought of as just mouths to feed.”

Gaylen winced. “Do they wear the same silly jumpsuits?” he asked, trying to lighten the mood. It worked, and soon they were both laughing until their sides hurt.

When the laughter finally died down, Esteban couldn’t help but think of the differences he’d seen in The City, especially when it came to family and friendship. There were many children running around or already helping out where they could, and he’d been surprised to see a few pregnant women. His eyes flicked up at Gaylen, and then back down again.

“I’m surprised you don’t have a partner,” he said quietly.

“What do you mean?”

“Shouldn’t you be doing your part to...repopulate the outside world or whatever?” he answered with a sweeping gesture.

Gaylen snorted and shook his head. “Actually, we’d rather all of your people give up the Sanctuary and join us out here. Then there’d be plenty of us to get a real community going.” He paused at his friend’s surprised face, and then added, “Besides, reproduction isn’t something we force on people up here, and the truth is, I’m not really attracted to women. I don’t have a partner of any kind, and...if I’m honest, I kind of like spending my time with you.” He hesitantly reached over and placed his hand on top of Esteban’s clasped ones and gave him a kind smile.

For a moment, Esteban only stared at Gaylen’s hand, the slender fingers long enough to go over both of his. He resisted the urge to pull back, relationships being a tightly regulated thing where he was from, but he didn’t. He looked up, smiling back, and gave the man a little nod.

The two of them spent the next day trading notes on what they knew about plants, discussing which should be planted when, how much water to give them and the like. It left Esteban wishing he’d paid more attention to these things when he’d been working in the hydroponics bays. Gaylen had his own observations to go by, what he’d seen in the wild over the last few years since they’d first come across the crops of plants. They were all slightly different than the versions being grown in the Sanctuary, time and being left to their own devices having changed them. For the first time, Esteban could see the benefit of venturing beyond the protection of The City.

The intimate moment between them wasn’t repeated but he could definitely tell there was a growing feeling within him, and was content to know that Gaylen liked him too. The idea was comforting but made him nervous at the same time, and he was grateful that there was work to keep them busy.

On the next day, though, Esteban woke to someone scratching on his tent flap. He stretched with a groan, and then got up and unzipped the flap. He’d expected to see Gaylen, and was ready to make some kind of remark about how early it was, but it wasn’t him. Instead, it was the leader of the hunting and gathering parties.

“Time to go out again,” the man said. He was middle aged, his face weathered and his hair grizzled. A long scar ran from his cheek to his jaw, and though it gave him a fierce look, he was actually a kind, pleasant man. “I heard you were working with Gaylen. Are you still up for food runs?”

“Sure,” Esteban answered, though he thought about suggesting a trip to the foothills to work on both projects. He knew the season was wrong for plants to be producing though. It was too early yet. The morning was cool so he quickly slipped on his sweater, and gathered up the pack he’d been given. It had supplies he’d need, like a canteen and some rat jerky, but also plenty of room for what he might gather in the field.

As he stepped out of the tent and followed the others, he glanced over at Gaylen’s lean-to and felt a tug at his heart. He knew it was silly, the idea that he couldn’t even spend a day away from the man, but he couldn’t help the way he felt. He finally took a breath and looked away. Before the group could get out of the square, though, the door on the lean-to opened and Gaylen rushed out.

“Hey! Do you need a hand?” he yelled out.

Esteban turned with a grin and waved him over. He walked backwards as his friend jogged to catch up, and then gasped in surprise as Gaylen threw an arm over his shoulder.

“Hey Mel,” Gaylen said with a nod toward the older man.

The grizzly man nodded back. “I thought you were too busy to do this kind of thing anymore,” he sassed.

“Nah, we got it under control,” Gaylen answered with a wink.

“Well, it’s good you’re here. The plan is to head further out to the east, skirt around the edge of the city there.”

A slight frown tinted Gaylen’s normally jovial features. He shook his head. “Not to the north?”

“We’ve been there a dozen times. I didn’t think it was time to collect your plants yet. We’re going to try something new. Mother Rani wants to know if there might be similar resources out to the east.”

Gaylen nodded but didn’t say anything. Esteban wasn’t sure what the conversation was about but he was distracted by his friend’s touch anyway. He could feel the warmth of the man’s skin through his sweater, and the closeness of their bodies made blood rush to his face. The nature of their work and the tininess of Gaylen’s home meant that they’d been in close proximity plenty of times before, but this felt different. It was a conscious choice and it made his breath quicken.

“What’s to the east?” he finally asked, once he’d managed to clear his head a little.

“The buildings are lower in the east,” Gaylen answered. “We think it was mostly homes, maybe a park because there are still a few trees.”

“Trees?” Esteban repeated in excitement.

“Yeah. They’re mostly gnarled and ugly from lack of water and whatever was used to bomb the city but they’re there.”

Before Esteban could continue the conversation, Mel butted in. “It also means less cover from Sanctuary patrols or anything else that might be lurking out there.”

Esteban didn’t ask what he meant. He got the impression that it was a dangerous place, and that this wouldn’t be as simple as the supply runs he’d been on before.

“The truth is, we’ve only been out there once or twice,” Gaylen added. “We don’t really know what we might find.”

Navigating The City was something Esteban still hadn't mastered. Back in the Sanctuary, corridors and sections were clearly marked. Though the walls were a gray concrete, there was color coding and other features that allowed for people to know where they were. Not to mention, interactive maps, and transports for when you needed to get from one part to another. Here, there was only bombed out buildings and debris covered streets. He imagined there had once been street signs and that the buildings would have had distinguishing features. All of that disappeared long ago. The group he was with seemed to know exactly where they were going, though.

“How does he know where we’re going?” Esteban whispered and nodded toward Mel. “I’ve hardly ever seen any of them use a map.”

“Years of doing it,” Gaylen answered. “Maybe, someday, you’ll know this city as well as he does.”

To Esteban’s surprise, Mel held up a fist and the small group stopped to look at a map. The older man pulled it out of a pocket on his vest and straightened it out on the hood of an ancient, bombed out car. Esteban leaned over the shoulder of a tall, dark skinned woman, with close cropped hair to get a look at the map. His eyes widened in surprise. He’d never really had a look at it before, and was amazed at the detail. It not only showed streets but landmarks like cars that still had gasoline, and which shops had which supplies. It wasn’t only food they needed, but clothing, tools, oil and medicines as well. Gaylen had insisted to him that most of the medicines had lost their potency years ago, that his plants were the way to go for healing, but they were still gathered, just in case. Habit was a hard thing to break, even for people who’d never seen the Old World.

“Where are we going?” Esteban asked.

Mel pointed to the far edge of the map. “You see this part here, that isn’t filled in much? That’s us. It’s a long trek, probably a couple of days’ worth.”

Esteban gulped, having not realized just how big The City was. If something were to happen out there, they would be a very long way from home. He shook his head, stifling his mixed emotions. He was nervous but the butterflies in his stomach weren’t only about fear, they were also at the realization that he’d started to think of the square as home.