The Black Flowers

The man sitting in the embarkation lounge was stocky and muscular. He was a military man, even if he now acted like an expectant father. He was waiting, and he hated it.

An Asian man came up to him. He kept his face impassive as he approached the larger man. He looked at him and asked, “You are nervous?”

The nervous man glanced up. He nodded to the Asian man.

“Why?”

The other man frowned. “I hate the cold,” he muttered. “I hate ice.”

“You do not have any choice. You need the work. Our colony will need at least one law-enforcement officer. I think this job will better you. Give it a chance.”

“Find someone else.”

“Your qualifications leave no doubts in my mind.”

“Maybe you didn’t read close enough. Maybe you missed the data on my service discharge.”

“I read it.” Akabe paused to smile. “Perhaps I read too closely. At any rate, who else wanted to hire you?”

“Forget it.”

“Colony ship Two-Four-One now boarding,” a voice announced. The two men stood and walked to the boarding tube.

***

“So, how do you like your new home?” Akabe asked the Marshal the day after their arrival.

“I’m cold. I’ve felt this way ever since we left.”

“The gauges all register normal temperatures.”

“I can feel the chill, the wind, the ice.”

“You need to get your mind off work and the weather.” And the one error in your military career, Akabe almost added. He tapped a keypad on his desk. A drawer slid open. He reached into the drawer, and removed a small packet.

“Here are some seeds, Marshal.” He gave the other man the packet. “Please try to make them grow.”

“No thanks. I don’t know anything about plants.” He started to toss the seeds back to Akabe.

“You will learn. Please.”

The Marshal hesitated. Akabe only repeated “please” when he would give an order he didn’t want to give. The Marshal turned the packet over in his hands, considering them.

“Oh, all right, Akabe.”

“Thank you. Oh, good luck.”

***

“And did they come to blows?”

“A few.”

Akabe noted the Marshal's comments, fingers lightly touching the keypads. The first altercation between colonists was bound to happen. It was now important to assure that there was no repeat. “You did mete out punishment?”

“I revoked entertainment privileges, and increased work-hours, immediately.”

“Very good. It seems that your experience in the service is paying off handsomely here.”

“Thanks,” the Marshal responded, somewhat awkwardly. "Is that all?”

“Yes. Uh, no, just a moment.” Akabe leaned forward. “Tell me, how are those flowers doing?”

The lawman's eyes rolled. “Did you know those damn plants are black? You gave me black flowers! Who the Hell would wanna look at black flowers, anyway?”

“They were not designed for looks,” Akabe said, as if he was talking to a student. “Dark colors attract more heat than light colors. That is very important in a cold climate.”

“I know...oh.”

Akabe smiled again. “Not everyone has a perfect memory. Carry on.” He turned back to his work.

***

Beta Cygni attracted minimal attention at first. It was far from the commonly traveled “space-ways,” had one marginally habitable planet, and four other unremarkable worlds. Then science perfected a black flower that could take root in frozen ground and thrive in extreme cold. Botanists felt that granting permission to grow black flowers conveyed their penultimate trust.

Akabe did his best to make his Marshal understand this. He'd hoped the Marshal would take the initiative. He had hoped in vain. Apparently, the Marshal long ago lost his initiative.

***

The Marshal stood in front of Akabe's desk. Akabe didn't stop working when he asked, “How are you and the flowers doing, Marshal?”

“I'm fine. The flowers are blooming nicely.”

Akabe finally stopped, waved at the seat in front of his desk, and then asked, “Would you like to try to grow a few outside the domes?”

“Outside!”

“That isn't such an unreasonable request, surely.”

“I will not go outside.”

“Wouldn't you like to get some of the planet's fresh air?”

“No! I don't need to go outside. I won't go outside. Anyway, there's nothing out there. No one goes out there!” He snorted. “‘Fresh air.’ Ha.”

“The power plant is out there. The landing and loading dock is out there. There are now research stations outside. You will have to go out sometime. What if there is an emergency?”

The former soldier hesitated, thinking over the options. He didn't think for very long, and his answer was simple. “I refuse.”

Akabe looked slightly annoyed. He pulled out a disk, booted it up, and handed the lawman a hard copy. The Marshal read the report. “This isn't funny, Akabe.”

“It is not supposed to be. The Colonization Bureau is quite adamant on this. They have already requested data.”

“You mean to tell me that the brains behind this little expedition think a few black flowers out there on the ice are gonna improve the climate?”

“That is correct. It does make sense.”

“Do they want the dummy who accepted them to be the one to freeze his ass off trying to get them to take root in that ice and snow?”

Akabe shook his head. “I don't wish to make this an order. You must do this. We can spare no one else. If things are quiet, you will have the time. Consider it a challenge, if that will motivate you. But do begin, and as soon as it’s practical.”

The Marshal fumed, but said nothing more. He turned away and left.

***

As he came up on the exit hatch, the Marshal was shaking. He forced himself to calm down. The man keyed in a sequence of numbers on a keypad. The inner door opened. He took in a breath, passed through the doorway, and waited for the outer door to open.

“Agh!” A gust of wind blow through the open door. The Marshal couldn’t feel it under his outfit, but it almost knocked him over. He resolved to be careful.

“No, don't think about that. Just go.”

He glanced around. Off toward the horizon in front of him was mountain chain, gray against the white landscape. Behind him, a white plain. To the left and right were small ice mountains. A light snow was coming down. He heard the faint crunching of his boots on the frozen snow and ice.

He stopped at fifty meters distance, then made a mental note of the location. First he took out the pick, then he put his back into it. It was hard work. His arms and back became sore all too quickly. He stopped to rest. I’m not cut out for this, he thought. I’ll have to quit.

He remembered Akabe. Akabe would not allow him to quit. “Now, or else.”

He had to get back to the digging.

Minutes later the Marshal was screaming.

“No! I don’t want to be here!” He threw the tool down. “I never wanted to be here! I hate this place! I hate ice, I hate snow, I hate cold, I hate all of it!” He slumped down to the frozen ground and began to weep.

“Why did she have to slip?”

He recalled the day like it just happened. His last post had been as a Training Officer. He was drilling the recruits in winter survival. There was a woman, Thomson, not terribly strong or committed. A sure-shot wash-out. He never left here alone. She was out on a recon test. She was from a tropical planet. “In unfamiliar weather,” Thomson had said. But she was under orders. Under his orders.

“You should have said no.”

The unfeeling, uncaring ice, didn't let her get a firm grip. The ice didn't care how smart she was. The ice took her.

On his orders.

It was the only mistake he'd ever made. In over three decades of loyal service, that was the only blemish. He had been exonerated. No one blamed him, except himself. Every lousy job since, every chance missed, every problem that had cropped up, it all came from two big mistakes: Thomson, and his reaction. That moment hit like a hammer.

He abruptly lurched back to the present. He gazed around, trying to find the shovel. Two seconds later he saw it. The tool was in two pieces. “Oh, damn,” he muttered. “Another twenty creds out of my account.” He swore silently. This will never work. I can’t hack it.

His eyes fell to the tools at his hip. Nothing there would penetrate the frozen ground. Out of the corner of one eye he saw his blaster.

Wait a minute! These Rugers have a ‘heat’ setting. Yeah, high heat! He drew the weapon and fumbled with the settings. He remembered how, aimed, and fired.

It worked.

The seeds went down in short order. Soon he had twenty-four seeds in the still-stiff ground. He shouted for joy! He made idle plans for more planting. The wind came up again, and this time he felt it. It didn't knock him down, or slow him, or give a chance to stop and think about the past.

The Marshal whistled as he walked back to the main dome.

***

Akabe rarely was surprised anymore. He had lived a long life, had been all over the galaxy, and had met many people. When the Marshal ran into his office, still in his cold suit, grinning broadly, the old man's eyes widened only imperceptibly, and quipped, “I take it you have been outside.”

“I did it!” the Marshal cried. “I got some of those black flowers to grow!”

“Very good, Marshal.” Akabe smiled warmly. “You have my deepest congratulations. And I see you are more accustomed to the cold.”

“Well, not all that much. But I think I can take it.”

“Excellent. Carry on.” As soon as the Marshal left, Akabe signed a contented sigh. “You are now a better man,” he said.

*****

First published in Outward, Winter 1993.

This short story is part of my collection Better Tomorrows. Check this page at my blog for store links: http://robertlcollins.blogspot.com/p/my-sff-books.html