After the memorial George Axiom helps perk up Nevada by donating a generous sum to The Greening for renovation and state of the art student labs. Nevada is deeply grateful.
Jan, Stazzi and Vesper are in holding cells in Vegas-by-the-Sea awaiting the trials of the century. When they first saw Axiom’s guards marching with us the day we returned they were dumbfounded—at a loss for words. That is until they realized the guards were coming to escort them off to jail. Then, all manner of filthy curses broke loose from Vesper’s mouth. Jan added in a few choice ones too.
“Lousy druggie,” Vesper screeched at me, “I should have finished you off with the rest of your poison powder.”
“You’re the one who belongs in jail,” Jan snarled at me as the guards cuffed him. “You and your brother invaded our school and ruined everything. Criminals!”
No one bothered with an answer. Not even the guards who dragged them off. How do you reason with four scoops of crazy? All I know is that we breathed a major sigh of relief when that Axiom glider took off for points west.
The guards told us that the prison overlooks the great blue Pacific. Picture the view! Funny, I imagine that Vesper and Jan’s jails are cushy. Everything’s glitzy in Vegas-by-the-Sea, so why not the jails? I bet they get tasty fried fish dinners and fancy jail outfits with shell buttons. Perhaps Jan will have some kind of great human turnaround, but I won’t hold my breath.
I’ve gotten in touch with Caprice, the turbaned healer lady out there. Caprice wants to buy cartons of my elixirs for her clients. She wants to brainstorm with me to develop more outrageous cures and potions. Elixirs that make your wrinkles, depressions and love troubles disappear forever, and salves that enhance hearing and sight. Potions that could even make you fly. Sky’s the limit, and that suits me fine.
I’m going to save every tarnished coin and crinkled Dominion bill, until I collect enough to set up my wave blue house with sky blue curtains on the coast. It’ll be a sanctuary for friends and family, who I’m going to rescue from the cult, the second I figure out a foolproof plan.
First, I have to graduate. One more year—education before enterprise.
Today we’re reseeding the decimated field. We have brimming satchels of seeds that George helped buy. We reluctantly donned our burnsuits and masks because it’s a long, laborious job. We should really head out to different quadrants; it’d be so much faster that way. But we want to be together, after so much. Plus Armonk’s heading to Black Hills tomorrow. George will fly him there and help drill his people their wells. That part is exciting. If I dwell on Armonk leaving, though I’ll start bawling. We’ll never return to the cockeyed house for talks, never again cook together as we share our innermost secrets.
But I have Blane—man of fire and soul. It makes sense, after all, that I ended up with the one who was a brute, yet blossomed into a sensitive, smart man. After all, I started as a drug-addled tease, whose method of connection was manipulation and seduction. You start with the tools you have at hand, but you don’t have to end up using those same tools. We both transformed, not only our personalities, but through and through, as hybrids.
It’s funny, the world and what you can become in it if you try.
As if Blane can hear my thoughts—of course he can—he leans over and plants a soft kiss on my forehead. I stand on tiptoes and kiss his too.
We work in a line, reaching in the bags and tossing out the pretty red seeds like confetti.
“Don’t make yourself too scarce,” I tell Armonk. “You’ll have to visit me in Vegas-by-the-Sea next year. I want to introduce you to my best friends, Petal and Blossom.” He’s dark and tanned, but his blush peeks through.
“Your best friends?” Bea teases as she tosses a handful. “What about me?”
“Well, you’re already spoken for, best friend.”
“True,” she says, and with this, Radius raises her mask and gives her a kiss.
Thorn tugs on Armonk’s hand. He takes his dinosaur toy from his latchbag and hands it to Armonk.
“Really? You sure you want to give me this?” Thorn nods. Above his mask, Armonk ruffles Thorn’s hair. “Okay, fair is fair. Got something for you too, little man.” Armonk touches his shell necklace and lifts the twine over his head, lowers it over Thorn’s head and adjusts it. “It’s a tradition. This little man is now officially a big man.”
Thorn laughs, loudly and freely. I’ve never seen his face so joyful.
We work for another hour, and as we do, the surviving plants thrum in thanks. We’re filling in the charred patches and I can see the first baby fronds of Fireseed arc up from the ashes. My lord, this incredible plant grows fast.
The Reds flicker by our sides, and join the thrum. Beauty, beauty, beauty!
There’s only an hour of sun left. The sky drifts to that magic place where violet and orange blend in candy swirls over the horizon line.