Welcome to the Journal of Now and Forever. This Journal is a collection of my Star Control and Star Control 2 fiction. Note: Some of this material is, by necessity, extrapolation from the slim information provided by canon sources. New fiction is posted first at My Livejournal before it appears here. This story is in response to 15 Minute Ficlets' Challenge #49. |
Springtime on Eta Vulpeculae 2 lasted a very long time. Its year was just over two Earth years, and the axial tilt meant that the seasons slid slowly into one another; in temperate zones, winter could be rather mild, no worse than subtropical Earth. It was a wonderful planet for growing Earth crops. The soil was close enough, the humidity, gravity and oxygen levels within tolerance, and the longer-than-terrestrial days and long seasons meant two or even three crops could be grown within the span of Spring, Summer and Autumn on EV2. And once the techs had GM'd the crops, there was no stopping them. Wild wheat, maize, and barley grew everywhere; within another year it was estimated the stuff would cover all surface area that it could. Earth crops were invaders, exotics, and EV2 animals hadn't yet figured out what to do with them. Certainly, Dina thought, that would change over time; something opportunistic would feed on Earth wheat and decide it liked it. In the meantime, Earth foodstock crowded out native flora, and it was no trouble at all to grow and harvest cereals. Vegetables had a little more trouble, but not much, and those too were growing nearly wild. Much of the traditional Earth fruit didn't like EV2, however; the median temperature was too warm to give apples and other "northern" plants the cold winter they needed to properly produce. Citrus needed plenty of water, but near the coasts there were some thriving groves. It was just as well the Earth animals they'd managed to grow from ova could survive on cereals, since the Androsynth had them in abundance now. Dina reflected that the environmentalists on Earth would probably scream about what the Androsynth were doing to an alien world – namely, acting without much regard for the native stuff – but it was easy to criticize when you hadn't had to ration food the first year to make sure there would be something next year. She was seated on a low rise above the border between the croplands and the undeveloped territory. She could even see native wildlife, here and there; some of it was scared of Androsynth – mostly because hunters had made life interesting during that first year – but much of the rest wasn't yet used to thinking of Androsynth as something to be feared. And there was what she thought of as birdsong, the native sounds of the flying animals, whistling to scare away competitors and lure mates. A xenobiologist would consider this paradise, she thought. Bees buzzed nearby, fellow refugees from Earth. The first bees were brought live across hyperspace, and turned loose on the planet as soon as it was feasible; there were 'tame' hives and wild bee trees everywhere, and without competition from locals, the Earth bees seemed happy and productive, pollinating the growing fields of edible grasses and vegetables. The sun was warm, not yet too hot to be comfortable, and a slight breeze rippled the growing wheat. Dina had never thought it could look beautiful, but it was: it was theirs, all theirs; they had done it themselves, and they were truly in a land of plenty. "Busy bees," she murmured as they flew about. Busy bees, dedicated to their work. Did they enjoy it? Dina thought they might. There was no pang in her heart, but Dina did feel a little sigh inside her; she should really find someone to share this with. Given that her usual contacts were her co-workers, she wasn't sure who; but perhaps she should see if there was anyone else who shared her feelings, even those about bees and wheatfields. She shook her head. Androsynth don't form relationships. That had been well-known from the beginning. But maybe... She heard Grif yell from the copse as he ran out, Aron and Skip right behind him, all three lugging big plastic bags of honeycomb over their shoulders, and she laughed to see them chased by angry bees, even as she knew she shouldn't, because they were (after all) running toward her and that meant she'd better get the shuttle running toot-sweet. |
Comments? Email me: laridian at aol dot com |