Javier caressed the dwarf birch’s slender trunk, tracing the bands that puckered as though ready to be peeled. The branches reached upward, conserving precious horizontal space in the Mary Primeworth Garden Dome. Javier tried to place the tree between himself and the Dome’s transparent wall, but he could still see, past the red sand and jagged hills, the expanding base of the Inorganics.
In weeks, those brutal metallic towers and production facilities would arrive here, at the Garden Dome and Mars Colony. Just as they had on the Moon and in the Asteroid Belt, the Inorganics would demolish every structure and repurpose the material to construct their own base.
A flurry of motion caught his eye. Inez, beside him, typed on her tablet again. Most days, she would chatter non-stop about what she’d learned at her science apprenticeship, but she hadn’t looked up from that tablet in two days.
“Inez.” Javier tapped the birch. “This is the last time we can ever come here.”
He glanced at the angular antennas rotating atop the Inorganic base. The original Inorganics had been meant to help humans, but now they swarmed over human bases and mined minerals and rare earths to fuel their own progress into the Solar System. They would smash the dome’s glass in seconds and, worse, trample the trees and other plants that were the last reminders of their lives on Earth.
“Let’s pay attention while we can,” said Javier.
“Wait.” Inez continued typing. “I think you’ll like this.”
Whatever game she was playing, whatever scientific article she was reading, it wasn’t more important than these final moments in the garden. Javier placed a hand on her shoulder. Inez was almost a teenager, capable of understanding that in the new colony many kilometers from here, they would have no showers, they would share quarters with two other families, and they would eat tasteless meals with almost sufficient nutrients. They would live in the new colony, but it would never be a home.
“Here.” He nudged her forward. They followed the thin walkway as it meandered past bushes and flowers to the acacia. Branches and leaves spread across the reinforced glass of the dome, blocking all but patches of the red sky.
Javier guided Inez under the acacia, which flowed outward like an inverted bowl. She didn’t look up.
“This is where I proposed to your mother.” He turned so he stood with the trunk on his left, as he had that day. “She was right there, just a step in front of me, holding my hands. Every time I opened my mouth to ask the question, she tried to get me to dance. She was wearing the only dress she had, so I think she suspected my plan and was trying to tease me, but she never admitted it.”
Javier patted the tree one last time. He considered carving his and Wendy’s initials in the tree the way he’d wanted to that day. Back then, he hadn’t wanted to desecrate the tree for other viewers. Now, it wouldn’t matter. “She said, ‘Yes.’”
“Uh huh.” Inez peered up at the branches, then returned to her tablet.
Javier resisted the urge to slap the tablet from her hands. His mouth tightened as he trudged to the ring of oaks. “Remember these?” He patted an oak. “Where you danced with your mother? And you spun until you were dizzy?”
Even toward the end, when Wendy could dance no longer, she would still sing.
“I remember.” Inez glanced at one of the oaks, tapped at her tablet, and frowned.
“You looked so beautiful, twirling around and smiling. You have your mother’s smile.”
“Dad, please wait.” Inez kept walking without looking up, back in the world of that tablet.
She didn’t get it. In a few weeks, this garden, the only green space on Mars, would be gone. You couldn’t stop the Inorganics any more than you could stop a dust storm. The colony wouldn’t have the resources to build another garden. The colony had only had these resources because some eccentric Earth billionaire had wanted something named after her on Mars. Yes, the colony had a seed bank, but there would be no room for its progeny until long after Javier was dead.
He placed a hand on the rough bark. He’d believed, once, that these trees would outlive him.
Inez had already strolled to the cherry trees. Their blossoms…Javier caught up to her.
“Here.” Javier stood beside the empty branches. These trees had kept their promise every Martian year, blooming in their beautiful pinks and whites for weeks. Wendy had always loved these cherry blossoms for their reminder of the ephemerality, and beauty, of life. Now, these bare trees would never have the chance to blossom again. “This is where your mother…”
Accidents were never caused by a single problem. If Wendy hadn’t spent all that time outside studying the Inorganics, and if the shielding on her suit’s visor hadn’t been damaged, and if treatment options in the colony weren’t rudimentary…
Wendy had looked so sick that day they had come to the garden, but they had made reservations, and she had insisted. When they had reached the cherry trees, not yet in bloom, Wendy had sat with her back against one of the trunks. “This is a good place,” she had said. And then said no more.
Wendy was the kind of person who could gaze out at the desolate rock and sand and see the gardens that would one day be there.
Javier felt pressure against his back. A small hand.
“I’m sorry, Dad,” said Inez.
Before he could give her a hug, she turned back to her tablet. That damned tablet. When this trip was over, she would only remember staring at the screen.
“Dad.” Inez, in some kind of miracle, looked at him. “Which plant is your favorite?”
Javier froze. This trip was for Inez, not him.
“Well…” Pines held memories, gave off that tempered sweet smell, and had bark that peeled in layers. Berry bushes evoked a simple life on Earth that had long passed. Cactus stood out among the softer, less defensive plants in the garden. But none of them were his favorites.
He raised his hand and pointed a shaky finger at the bay laurel bush with its cluster of long, thin, pointy leaves. Organic resources couldn’t be wasted on Mars, so everything, and everyone, was recycled.
Inez nodded. “I thought so.”
She strode to the bush. Kneeling beside it, she reached into a pocket and pulled out a bag and a pair of shears.
Javier started. “What are…”
Inez ran a hand along one of the branches and stopped near a knob. She clipped the branch at that point and put it in the bag, then placed the bag in Javier’s hand.
“Now,” said Inez, “we can grow it at our new home. Now she can come with us.”
“You…”
Inez took Javier’s fingers and folded them over the branch. He could see his features in her, the small forehead and the pointed chin, but right now, she looked exactly like her mother.
“Living in the new habitat is going to be hard.” Inez stood. “I know I can’t do the apprenticeship anymore, and we’re going to have to spend all our time building more living space and maintaining the generators and everything. But we shouldn’t give up on all the nice things we had. We shouldn’t give up our memories.”
Javier stared at the branch in his hand. Thin, with two tiny leaves, but it had everything it needed to start a new life. “You’re right.”
Inez turned with an unflinching gaze toward the Inorganic base. She held the shears and her tablet. “Someday, I’ll make sure we don’t have to retreat anymore.”
“You can’t…”
The Inorganics were unstoppable. They didn’t need food, water, or even air. They didn’t get tired. They persevered until they succeeded. All attempts to fight them had resulted in the humans being obliterated. In every situation where humans had stood in the way of the Inorganics’ progress, the Inorganics had shoved their way through as though there had been no obstacle.
But maybe, one day, that could change.
“You’re like your mother.” Javier patted Inez’s back. “You can do it.”
They stared for a moment at the towers on the red sands. Trusses rose into the sky. Ungainly equipment, purposes unknown, hung from those distant walls. From here, Javier could see only the largest Inorganic units, huge construction machines hauling beams and slabs of metal.
“Can you help me?” Inez passed him the tablet. It listed the plants among the garden, ranked by size, along with soil types and watering requirements.
“I would love to.” Javier took her hand and, together, they strode to the next bush to collect clippings for their new home.
