The Plant - A Steampunk Story

Epilogue

Jack’s thirst for the interesting and the unusual was never quenched, and since he was so good at making stuff up he decided to put his talents to good use and become a professional liar. A fiction writer, that is. He flirted with journalism for a little bit, but after his own unpalatable experience with revelations and consequences, he decided that this field really wasn’t for him. He did some travel, learned a lot from his journeys, and a few years later, when he had the means, just to put the frustrations of his youth behind him, he bought a piece of land and planted a dome on it, which became his retreat and occasional writing studio. Of course people thought that was odd, but then again, writers get a pass on being eccentric. The jolly librarian moved heaven and earth to start a council for ecological preservation and have the plant declared a protected species. She used up all the good will and favor she had with the city hall to designate the wild domes area a nature preserve, and got the funds to maintain and expand the zone, which had grown significantly larger over time, with the promise that revenue from the stream of tourists would benefit the city as a whole. Diane outgrew her youthful romantic drama, went to college and became an attorney. She rented a little space downtown, quite close to the science lab, actually, and put up her shingle there. She had quite a successful practice, to the pride and joy of her parents, who never ceased bragging about it. Stacey joined the Navy, to the shock of her friends and acquaintances, who had always pictured her as a little live Barbie. She advanced through the ranks with honors and became a rear admiral. The only qualms Tom and Carol had with a career like that was that, for obvious reasons, it took her quite far from home, but they resigned themselves to see her over the holidays and visit whenever they could. Tom liked to joke that their daughter had turned him and his wife into real globetrotters, now in their old age. As far as he was concerned, he worked at the factory/plant habitat/petal foundry until his mid sixties when he retired from it, just as he expected, comfortable enough to enjoy his golden years with Carol and tackle a few projects he had put off over the years, for lack of time. Little Teddy was a bit of a troublemaker all throughout school, it seems that personality reveals itself early and his endless temper tantrums weren’t just the terrible twos. His father decided to guide him towards athletics, thinking that strenuous physical effort might burn off some of that extraneous energy. Teddy wavered between sports and several other fields, started college a couple of times and then, through a weird confluence of circumstances, got to try photography and loved it. He became a traveling photojournalist and contributed to a few reputable periodicals that Carol never failed to display on the coffee table, for all the guests to see. The malt shop owner kept tending store way past her retirement age, out of concern that whoever it was that took over from her wouldn’t have the curiosity and communication skills to keep it the hub of news and social activity in town. She finally found a young apprentice, whom she taught her craft and entrusted with the rich history of the place, and she handed him the keys to the store, her heart finally at peace. Mr. Feldman continued teaching at Jack and Richard’s school for many decades, guiding generation after generation of children through the wonders of science and the challenges of science fairs. He ended up teaching Diane’s children, too. All three of them. Mrs. Jenkins went on spearheading her efforts to keep reality from interfering with the way she thought life should be, and continued being an outspoken advocate for the restoration of good old fashioned values. She had a small but faithful following of devotees. Richard went to college to study mechanical engineering. He put together a few of his old projects, together with a few theoretical studies, presented them to the scientific committee and received a research grant to develop biologically based machines. Grace to his first successful attempts, the grant became permanent, and he funneled all of his efforts into becoming one of the pioneers of this new field. Over a decade, he set up the infrastructure for a department of bio-mechanics inside the school of engineering, department which he ended up running. He never stopped advocating for the ethical treatment of bio-based mechanical composites, and he treasured as the most important accomplishment of his life the fact that he managed to convince the scientific community to qualify them as life. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit francisrosenfeld.substack.com [https://francisrosenfeld.substack.com?utm_medium=podcast&utm_campaign=CTA_1]

Chapter 20 - A Branch with a View

Naturally, the librarian told the boys’ parents and teachers the good news that Richard and Jack had singlehandedly made the second dome happen, very excited about the spirit of adventure the two had displayed and praising the innovative approach they took to create something so extraordinary. To her great surprise, but not Richard and Jack’s, who wished they could have moved to a parallel universe where people didn’t disapprove of the plant and anyone associated with it, the boy’s parents didn’t take lightly to the news that their son, whom they trusted to know what he was allowed to do and what he wasn’t and who was raised to never displease his elders in the slightest, was the main protagonist in the propagation of something they considered the annihilation of their values and way of life. Nothing, not the increased factory output, not the new foundry, not the plethora of new devices that clearly had made her life easier would ever convince Carol that the plant wasn’t evil, and by association, she considered anybody who interacted with it evil too. The fact that her son was one of ‘those people’ was a serious blow to her maternal fulfillment, and something she mourned going forward, making sure her grief weighed down heavier than a tombstone on the hearts of the other family members. Tom was conflicted about the plant, since he kind of liked the fact that he didn’t have to break his back to provide and the future looked just a little safer and brighter than before, but then again, in his entire marriage he did everything in his power not to displease his wife, so he did what was expected of him and had a stern conversation with their son. That conversation was the last he and Richard had, because from that day forward he decided to give his son the silent treatment. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit francisrosenfeld.substack.com [https://francisrosenfeld.substack.com?utm_medium=podcast&utm_campaign=CTA_1]

Chapter 19 - Planting the Desert

“Of all the crazy things you ever came up with, Jack, I, for once, can’t believe you’re making me do this!” Richard said, exhausted and sweating profusely in the unforgiving sunshine, as he tried to force his shovel through the obstinate dirt. They had been at it since the first rays of dawn, about five hours or so ago, and the meager area they had managed to till got lost in the vastness of land yet to be confronted. “Shut up and dig, Snake, we only have a week to make this valley of tears look planted,” Jack mumbled through his teeth, just as exhausted as his friend and in a vile mood. “What do you think people assume when they see us walk into the desert with a heavy bag and shovels?” Richard asked, panting from the effort but not slowing down the pace. “What did you want us to carry our supplies in? Glass jars?” Jack asked. “I’m just saying,” Richard gasped, struggling to dislodge a large rock from the middle of the border he was trying to define, a place from which the cursed thing refused to budge. “You know, if our parents wanted to devise a punishment for our creative truth telling, this would probably be it!” “Don’t mess with karma, dude!” Jack said philosophically, suddenly distracted by the fact that digging got a lot easier than it had been so far, and upon further examination he noticed he was shoveling through soft silt. “This medium is completely worthless!” he cussed under his breath. “Just mix it in with clay, I’m sure it’ll be fine!” Richard suggested, wiping his brow. “And where do I get the clay?” Jack asked, and then, following Richard’s unspoken directions, retorted. “Since when are you the expert in plantings?” “Since you made me study them. Hey!” Richard suddenly remembered. “Why is karma punishing me? It was your idea!” “You unleashed Brenda upon plant land,” Jack justified himself. “You made us break into the lab!” Richard protested. “You sneaked into the factory and didn’t tell anybody about the plant!” Jack said. Richard pondered it for a bit, then shrugged. “Still,” he said. “Harsh!” “So, what are we planting,” Jack asked, “before I collapse of heat exhaustion?” “Succulents,” Richard said. “From over there,” he pointed somewhere in the distance, where one of the springs had created a little oasis of greenery. “Oh, no, that’s great,” Jack kvetched, “as long as we don’t have to make several half mile trips to get them!” “Would you rather have carried them from town?” Richard replied. “Besides, they’re native to this area, if we have one chance in a million to keep something growing here, they’re it,” he frowned. “You know?” Jack said, filling the bag with clay to amend the silty soil. “Maybe this was not the best idea in the world.” “Now you’re telling me!??” Richard burst with annoyance. He looked towards the dome and got instantly aggravated. “That stupid plant made a rain forest in the middle of this desert and we can’t even grow cacti!” “Maybe we should have started by building a dome,” Jack commented sarcastically. “That’s it!” Richard threw in the shovel. “I’m done! I’m not dying in this damned place! I’m going home!” he exclaimed, and then he felt both guilty and ridiculous about the protest and he headed towards the oasis in the distance to grab some plants. “Hey!” Jack yelled from behind him. “What about the water source?” “Details will take care of themselves, Jack! Look at the big picture!” Richard responded without turning around, suddenly irritated again. The next day they stopped the planting to score a little watercourse through the petrified dirt and bring a shy trickle from the dome to the site. One couldn’t tell whether it was luck or science that made it so that the dome was uphill from the planting site and not too far from it, either, and the boys were, frankly, too tired for this sort of philosophical musings. The environmental recovery area didn’t feature tree saplings, to Carol’s unspoken disappointment. Despite the limitations of climate and location, she had always envisioned the boys’ project as a new born evergreen forest. Carol didn’t show her lack of enthusiasm, and as always she encouraged her son to continue, a little confused about his sudden shift in interest from mechanics to botany and trying to convince herself that all of his work was for a good cause. The planted acre had served its purpose, which was mainly to be anything other than the brimstone laden dome. There was no expectation on anyone’s part that it would be a smashing success. The plants didn’t prosper by any stretch of the imagination, but they didn’t die either, holding on for dear life under the heartless sun. Both spiky and succulents hesitated for quite a while, unsure whether to adjust to their new home or not, but nobody was the wiser about that, because their thick and shiny foliage looked frozen in time, hiding the drama underneath their skin. “Have you ever thought about all the things we’ve done lately, all because of this blessed plant, dude?” Jack asked Richard later, while they were trying to comfort their aching bodies with their usual vanilla floats at the malt shop. “I don’t suppose you ever imagined being involved in propagating cacti.” “Of course not. Those things are vicious!” Richard remembered with a frown. His hands were still stinging from the pricks and his face had acquired a healthy tan from being out in the sunshine all day. He pondered for a while, and then said. “Come to think of it, I never took any interest in plants, I always found them kind of boring.” “Except one,” Jack laughed. “Yeah,” Richard said, smiling. “In a way, I felt like I owed the plant one. You know, for Brenda.” “Do you realize how lucky we are?” Jack said. “Most people spend entire lifetimes without ever encountering something so extraordinary. We are like the first ones who saw the light bulb.” “Worth every fib, no doubt!” Richard agreed. “Not everybody seems to agree with that,” Jack offered, after a brief pause. “As far as some of my mom’s colleagues are concerned, this situation is a nightmare, but it will surely pass, because even if life has become frightening and completely out of control, any moment now somebody will find a way to kill that stupid plant and return existence to normal, whatever that means. Quite a spectacular display of denial, especially coming from a profession specifically trained to expose and dismantle it. Even if somebody managed to kill that plant, you can’t unknow its existence, at least I can’t,” he said, looking down, kind of sad. “Why would you want to?” Richard said, obstinately. “I guess it’s in the human nature to fear anything you haven’t encountered before,” Jack said. “Heck, even I am reluctant to interact with your Brenda, even though I know you made it,” he said, lowering his voice. “That thing looks terrifying, dude! You have to do something about that.” “My parents just like to pretend that the plant doesn’t exist,” Richard pointed out. “My sisters wouldn’t care if it grew out of their own heads, as long as it doesn’t interfere with their social agenda, and little Teddy, well, we’re not supposed to talk about the plant in front of little Teddy, because it gives him night terrors. It seems to be some sort of scary monster to him.” “What about you?” Jack asked him directly, making him recoil from the unexpected question. “What do you mean, me?” he asked. “What comes to your mind when you think of the plant?” Jack eyes gleamed with curiosity, and Richard realized this was a question that preoccupied his friend for a long time. He didn’t respond, trying to find the best explanation. “Do you remember when we went to the zoo for the first time and fed a giraffe? It was so unbelievably tall, you don’t realize how large it really is until you’re really close. I was kind of scared of it, but excited, too, and I knew it was a giraffe, because we all saw pictures of them in our kindergarten books. This plant is just like the giraffe, only without any prior warning. I look at it, I touch it and feel that it’s hot, and still have trouble believing it’s real half the time.” “I thought as much,” Jack said softly. “Why?” Richard asked. “Brenda. You wouldn’t have taken Brenda to the factory otherwise, at least not the you that I knew.” Jack replied. “You might have trouble coming to terms with the fact that it’s all real, dude, but I assure you that it is.” “It’s not that I don’t like it, it’s just…snow in July. Every fiber in your body tells you that it shouldn’t be there and you question whether your senses deceive you, but it’s not something that’s out of the realm of possibility. In fact, it even happened. It’s a very rare occurrence, but certainly not impossible.” “It makes you uneasy,” Jack noticed. “It’s the speed, it changes so fast! Last year it was a strange sprout that grew where it shouldn’t have and now it has it’s own microcosm. It improved on my design, Jack!” he complained to his friend. “And it’s only a plant!” “Aren’t you the one who always says that biology is infinitely more complex than any machine man can design? The pan flutes just needed to protect themselves, and they grew shells, it’s not that unusual in the natural world.” “For a living thing it isn’t! The pan flutes weren’t living things when I released them into the dome, and now they are.” Jack shrugged, seemingly unaffected by the status of the pan flutes. “How are you so calm?” Richard asked. “This doesn’t disturb you at all?” “Of course it does, it’s just…I like interesting things. The plant is interesting,” Jack smiled. In all the commotion associated with their strange activities, the boys completely forgot about the librarian and her fondness for the pan flutes. In all fairness, they didn’t give a second thought to her trips to the hot springs and were completely shocked when they almost ran into her as she exited the dome. “Oh, what a surprise, boys?” she said, even more shocked than they were. “What are you doing here? Oh, wait, that’s right, your little environmental project. How is it going?” she said, cocking her head to see the fledgling garden over their shoulders. “Coming along, I see. Can I take a peek?” she asked, rushing down the hill without waiting for an answer. Jack and Richard hurried behind her, relieved that they didn’t have to justify their presence there and running through things to point to and explain in their heads, but the librarian gave the xeric garden a quick tour and stopped to let the two in on a topic that really preoccupied her at the time. “You know what I was thinking?” she said, completely oblivious to the fact that her water shoes, as well as a good part of her clothing, were covered in smelly muck. “How unfortunate that the plant happened to develop into this particular pool, if it weren’t for the smell, the inside of that dome would be paradise on earth. So, I’ve been thinking,” she said, looking around to make sure nobody else could hear her, “what if we help it along, in one of those other pools, one that doesn’t smell. Please don’t tell on me, but I managed to cut a piece of stem and planted it in that pond over there, I’m hoping it takes root,” she smiled proudly. “It’s not going to root without metal!” Richard blurted before Jack had a chance to stop him. “I kind of thought it was you,” the librarian kept smiling. Jack sighed in despair. “What a wonderful job you did with this dome, now that’s a real environmental wonder, right there!” “Actually,” Jack sighed again, “we didn’t do that much, just planted the cutting with some scrap metal, the plant did the rest.” “Yeah, that’s what I heard,” the librarian said. “It looks like the one at the factory did kind of the same thing. By the way, where did you get the cutting?” she asked, cracking up with laughter, watching the two squirm to make something up. “That’s ok, don’t answer that,” she said kindheartedly. “One thing bothers me, though. I understand the wildlife, and the cross breeding, but where did the little metal bugs come from?” she looked at Richard and Jack, who at the time were carefully examining the multicolored thread on their t-shirts. “No matter,” she said. “That dome the plant made, smell or no, it is a dream come true for a life scientist. I must confess that was a passion of mine in my youth, but I never had the opportunity to dedicate myself to it, at least not until now. “ The boys looked at each other. “I bet if we plant this in another pool it will create a completely different environment, these domes are like angels, each one of them is a species in and of itself.” The boys fumbled around, uncomfortable, trying to find a way to extricate themselves from the situation. “You have been inside, right?” the librarian said. “Please tell me you have been inside!” Richard nodded in agreement. “Isn’t it something? Well, I have good news for you. Today I thought I saw a flying metal bug. How they keep their balance in flight with those tubes on their backs is beyond me!” the librarian said. “How?” Richard asked, flabbergasted. “Did they grow wings?” “No,” the librarian tried to remember. “It looks more like they are hovering. By the way, if you’re going inside the dome, don’t try to collect any plants or insects. It seems to be very protective of its components,” she mentioned as she was leaving. “Nice garden, you might want to try some sedums.” Richard and Jack watched her leave, wondering how exactly did she find that out, and what specimens was she trying to collect, and between the fearsome smell, the digging out in the middle of the desert, the strange encounter with the librarian, Carol’s unreasonable hope for a coniferous forest and the constantly changing environment inside the dome, their minds got drained of all thought and feeling like a wrung cloth. “Well, at least we don’t have to worry about her telling our parents,” Richard commented as he saw her disappear behind the bend. “What in the world would make you think that?” Jack brought him back to reality. “In fact, that’s probably the first thing she is going to do. Oh, well, it was bound to happen sooner or later, we had a good run,” he resigned himself to fate. “Don’t you just wish we were her? She doesn’t have to make stuff up to get inside the dome!” Richard coveted bitterly. “Yeah, but she can’t fit through the fence,” Jack smiled, reminding his friend of the advantages of not being a grown-up yet. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit francisrosenfeld.substack.com [https://francisrosenfeld.substack.com?utm_medium=podcast&utm_campaign=CTA_1]

Chapter 18 - Smelly Eden

The pan flutes played second fiddle for the time being, with Jack and Richard involved in the construction of a new Brenda and filling up the forms required to enroll it into the science fair. All the while, Richard’s parents and sisters walked around him on eggshells, making sure he wasn’t disturbed, bringing him his favorite foods and providing any assistance he happened to need. The new Brenda was finished, packed and shipped, in a wave of anticipation and enthusiasm. This was the third Brenda already, if one didn’t count the oldest prototype, and it had become more and more sophisticated, since Richard felt the need to add features with every iteration. The one thing that didn’t change was the device’s distinctive jellyfish configuration, and every time he thought about that, Richard was grateful that the plant swallowed Brenda One, who would have been a dead give-away of their trespassing and meddling in things that didn’t concern them. He sometimes thought about his secret weekend universe, the one where everything was in its place, the one he didn’t have to share with anyone, and he felt guilty about wanting to keep this little mechanical kingdom of his from Jack, who seemed to love it as much as he did. Things used to be so much simpler back then, before the Brendas and the pan flutes, even though he had to admit the aforementioned gadgets were running circles around anything else Richard had built. As far as the pan flutes were concerned, if there is one truth to nature, it is that it abhors pointlessness, so the plant had found an use for the creepy little buggers: they organized themselves into some sort of beehive, inside which they melted the blossoms the plant was blooming especially for them into a little metallic maze where they retreated at night. The design of the metal structure was unbelievably intricate, but in the way nature designs, not man, no two compartments alike, but all bearing a resemblance that didn’t leave any room for doubt that they served the same purpose. It was wild, and intentional at the same time, and Richard couldn’t help but be in awe of the ingenuity of the little creatures. Of course, because they were not based in biology, like Brenda, but pure mechanical devices, the pan flutes didn’t mind the high temperatures the plant generated when it didn’t have to protect living things, but even so, he had to wonder how they managed to generate enough energy to melt steel, and since Richard didn’t see how they could heat up to a few thousand Kelvins without melting themselves, he assumed they must have incorporated the plant’s electrolytic properties and were molding the metal by putting it in flux. They hummed to each other, to point out the good locations to pick falling blossoms, and worked so diligently at tidying up their metal sculpture of a home they seemed to have been designed specifically for this purpose. The mystery was solved a few hours later, when Richard noticed a real beehive hanging from an end vine close to the top of the dome. “It’s amazing!” Jack exclaimed. “This thing assimilates the properties of everything it comes in contact with! I can’t believe it infused the pan flutes with bee behavior!” “We really need to go inside the dome, Jack!” Richard said, amazed at the pan flutes’ transformation. “Did you hear a single word I said?” Jack shook him. “This thing adopts the qualities of everything that goes inside it! At best we’re going to have obsessive pan flutes that like to build little machines, at worst we’re going to build ourselves an anthill and insist on living inside it!” “Or a burrow,” Richard said, following the logic. “It would make more sense, size wise.” He stopped for a second, to contemplate the possibility. “I hope I don’t inherit the behaviors of a water rodent, I’d rather not get inside that swamp, it really stinks!” He managed to convince Jack, though, after constantly arguing his point, and reminding him a million times that the librarian seemed to have made it out ok. “I wonder,” Jack postulated, “if there isn’t a little tree frog in there, chasing pan flutes and wearing rain boots!” “Only one way to find out,” Richard smiled. “But I can smell the swamp from here,” Jack complained with a disgusted look on his face. “I’m sure getting closer is not going to make it better,” he used the last argument in his arsenal. “You know we’re going, right?” Richard ended the debate. “Unfortunately,” Jack sighed. The next weekend they started out bright and early, donning rain clogs on a sunny morning and grunting under the weight of the bags they carried. Richard wanted to make sure they had plenty of means to record and immortalize whatever they found inside the dome, and pads of paper to jot down a few notes if they had to. Between those, the bottles of water, the snacks and a change of clothes the bags were heavier than lead. “At least it’s not scrap metal,” Jack mumbled under his breath. “We’re almost there,” Richard picked up the pace, to reach the dome that was already visible as they passed the bend. Richard didn’t wait for Jack, he dropped his bag and headed straight inside the dome, seemingly unaffected by the dreadful odor. Jack could see him walk around, careful as if stepping on eggshells, his countenance warped by the strange refraction through the uneven glass. “You have to come in, Jack!” Richard said. “This is amazing!” Jack hesitated at the natural entrance of the dome, through which he could already see a little self-contained world that was too beautiful for the wretched smell it exuded. The stench of the swamp blended with the powerful fragrances of several water plants, and amplified by the heat and humidity was almost impossible to bear, but this smelly greenhouse universe was teaming with life. A swarm of blue and brown butterflies fluttered overhead, reigning over a land of water dwelling creatures, and the chirping of the tree frogs, mixed with the songs of the birds and the weird harmonic tones of the pan flutes drowned the noises coming from outside. Jack gathered the courage to step into this other world, one that had its own sounds, and its own surreal images, and, unfortunately, its own smell. Distracted by his strange surroundings, he stepped into the shallow water and was startled by the soft squish his clogs made in the wet swamp grass. “I guess it was a good idea to wear the clogs, right?” Richard said, with a beaming smile. “This place is awesome!” Jack couldn’t help exclaiming. “Granted, the smell can choke a horse, but still awesome!” he looked around, amazed. “Is that a tree?” he frowned to make sure his eyes didn’t deceive him. About half of the way up to the top of the dome, a tree had taken root on a thick branch of the vine. The roots didn’t seem to fit inside the vine altogether, and were sticking out through the bottom, like those of a pot bound house plant. “I guess one of the water rats brought in an acorn,” Richard explained, naturally. “You think it would let us climb to the top?” Jack asked, suddenly very interested, more of the plant than of his friend. “I wonder what else is up there?” “Didn’t you say it wasn’t safe to come in here? Now you want to go even deeper?” Richard protested, but his friend had already started climbing the thick vine, whose metal based shell was cooling down a path through scorching foliage, trying to keep up with him. Jack disappeared from sight, his presence still made manifest by a shuffling of leaves. The birds flew out of his way, dumping a scattering of hot blossoms on top of Richard’s head. “Jack!” the latter yelled, rushing for cover. The pan flutes chimed in harmony, matching the tone of his voice. “Up here!” Jack said, sticking his head out of the foliage. He was almost at the top of the dome, where the smaller, more flexible vines gave in visibly under his weight. “Come on, dude! Don’t chicken out on me now, you don’t know what you’re missing! I found a nest with eggs,” Jack laughed at him. “What kind of eggs?” Richard asked. “I don’t know, they’re purple,” Jack answered. “There are no purple eggs!” Richard corrected him. “Maybe the pan flutes laid them,” Jack offered generously. “Don’t be a jerk, Jack!” Richard retorted. “Come up, see for yourself!” Jack said, once again invisible inside a sea of metal leaves. With every step up the vine, a different view presented itself, the floor, the under story, the canopy, the emergent layer. The foliage color changed from layer to layer, and so did the light levels, the temperatures, the variety of wild life. For all practical purposes, the plant had built its own universe, and its small self-contained world inside the real one was surreal and beautiful. “I would never leave here!” Richard said, almost against his will. “Aha! Now you know how it does it! I would be surprised if this sneaky plant didn’t ooze some sort of pheromone to keep us all smitten! No, seriously, dude! I think we should get out of here if we don’t want to start building a nest on that branch,” Jack pointed to a particular portion of the vine, where a nest with three purple eggs could be seen. “You weren’t joking!” Richard said, surprised. “I assure you I am a much more serious person than you think, my friend,” Jack protested, thoughtful. “Now, let’s get out of here, and try not to slip on that vine on your way down, it just dawned on me that climbing trees in wet clogs isn’t the smartest thing in the world.” “What on earth is that dreadful smell!” Carol acknowledged her son’s presence way before he made his way through the door. “Good grief! Go! Change! Shower!” she urged Richard, who was only too happy to oblige. “What are you rebuilding there, Ricky,” she questioned, using the despised diminutive for good measure. “I understand those are wetlands, but it reeks like a sewer!” “The bacteria in the hot springs,” Richard apologized. “It’s the sulfur.” “How can anything survive in that smell!” Carol remembered the stench and instinctively held her breath. “Surely, you don’t expect to remediate that! How are things going, anyway? You promised to take us see how your project is progressing, but, judging by that smell, you’re still ways off of showing results.” Richard didn’t answer. “How long do you think that project of yours will take?” Carol asked, worried that the horrid miasma was going to grace their home on a regular basis now. “I really don’t know, mom,” Richard mumbled under his voice, and for once in the last year, he was telling the truth. “Well,” Jack spoke philosophically a few hours later, nursing his vanilla float with a lack of interest that worried Richard, “I guess it wasn’t the aliens.” “I will never take you seriously again,” Richard pouted. He was preparing to offer Jack a shoulder to cry on, only to find himself at the receiving end of his friend’s sharp tongue. “One of these days, Jack…” he said again, and as always he left the affirmation open ended. “Oh, come on! Admit it! I had you!” Jack cracked up. “Sometimes I wish it were the aliens,” Richard mumbled, still upset. “Me too,” Jack volunteered eagerly. “Well, we can’t always get what we want, can we?” “You know, my mom asked when she and dad can see the project,” Richard pointed out the obvious flaw in Jack’s plan. “Can you believe some crazy person ventured inside that dome?” the malt shop owner whispered to one of her customers, in a conspiratory tone. “I heard it smells like the dickens!” the lady replied. “Why would anybody want to go in there? And how do you know?” she remembered the obvious question. “One of the hot spring bathers walked by the dome and saw foot prints inside,” the malt shop owner said, and then continued in a whisper. “Some say there are weird lights inside it, you can see them through the glass at night,” she shook her head while polishing the teaspoons. “I’m telling you, whoever got in there, they’re up to no good!” “Who would go in that God forsaken area at night?” the lady said, sipping her coffee. “Precisely,” the malt shop owner replied. Richard wanted to say something, but Jack signaled to him to keep quiet, so they could listen to the unfolding conversation. “They are not like you and I, those people,” she continued, wise and distraught. “Hear my words, there are horrible things going on inside that dome, unnatural things. I heard,” she said in a very low tone of voice, approaching her customer to whisper in her ear, “that if you are close enough, you can sometimes hear strange chanting from inside, and see shadows moving. I’m telling you, it is a shelter for perdition, what else could it be with that smell?” She turned around to put the teaspoons in the silverware drawer, and then continued, knowingly. “How can a place that smells like sulfur can be anything but evil?” “I guess that pretty much covers it,” Jack commented to his friend. “It appears we ventured into…hhm,…uncharted territory, so to speak. I guess it wouldn’t be wise to mention this to anybody, you know, brimstone and all.” Richard nodded, convinced by the pertinent argument, only to remember the little conundrum Jack’s cover story placed them in, with respect to what they were going to tell their parents. “So, what should I tell my mother? Please don’t make me plant an acre of desert, just to give us a cover!” he looked pleadingly in Jack’s eyes. “We, Snake! We are going to plant an acre of desert. Teamwork, my friend,” he smiled encouragingly, patting Richard on the shoulder. “But I don’t know anything about plants! My mom would make me in two seconds! She’s a green thumb!” Richard protested, wretched. “Then you should hit the books immediately, we don’t have a lot of time,” Jack suggested. “Where do you want me to get the plants, and the tools,” Richard couldn’t believe his ears. “Details, my friend!” Jack said. “What about a source of water? You can’t grow anything without water, that’s why stuff didn’t grow there in the first place!” Richard continued complaining. “Xeriscape, Jack. You always get lost in the minutia. Get the big picture and the details will take care of themselves,” Jack said, very convinced. “No, they won’t!” Richard said. “When did the details ever take care of themselves?” “Anyway,” Jack changed the subject. “Go home, get some sleep, we’re going to need to be well rested. Planting the desert is a lot of work!” This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit francisrosenfeld.substack.com [https://francisrosenfeld.substack.com?utm_medium=podcast&utm_campaign=CTA_1]

Chapter 17 - Dome Park

The rumor about new metallic creatures roaming around in the swamp dome brought agitation and endless discussions in the community. The general hypothesis was that the life entity, or whatever you wanted to call the plant-pipe-dome-wildlife combination, had somehow evolved to create its own species, a thought both worrisome and blasphemous for many of the city’s inhabitants. Richard’s family members, who had never been anywhere near the swamp dome, and who gathered all the information about the mechanical critters through hearsay, never connected the terrifying description of the crawling pan flutes to the innocent looking weather vane their son had designed. They had been around for enough of Richard’s contraptions to cease finding them scary looking, especially after the two versions of Brenda. Besides, with the plant taking over the pipe manifold and all the consequences thereof, whatever Richard managed to build in his spare time didn’t get the benefit of their full attention. On top of everything, Diane had had an argument with her boyfriend and the entire household was on call to bring her comfort foods and listen to her wildly swerving stories. Stacey had enrolled in a dancing class and was driving everybody crazy with the constant tapping, which went up the stairwell like through a resonating chamber, to find its way straight into Richard’s room, amplified. Little Teddy was finally exiting his terrible twos, to the relief, albeit unspoken, of the entire family. Carol wouldn’t have anybody say a single bad word about the little boy, who, as she often liked to mention, didn’t know any better. So, there they were, in the middle of the daily family drama, discussing the tiny invaders, who were a lot more worrisome to the city folk than the plant because they had no roots, while the family dog ran around, completely out of control, spilling his bowl of food and overturning furniture in his wake. “Wouldn’t you know it? They never found out how the plant spread to the hot springs area to begin with,” Carol commented as she sliced the pound cake, distributing it evenly between the dessert plates. “I know nothing good could come out of that, that place is completely forsaken. I guess we’re lucky it evolved those ridiculous looking crawling creatures and not something really dangerous.” “You don’t know that! You don’t know they’re not dangerous!” Tom said. “Who knows what else is slithering inside that dome, nobody ever got inside it to do a real survey, it might be crawling with metal alligators, for all we know.” “You think somebody could have done this on purpose?” Carol asked, incredulous. “Done what?” Tom asked. “You know, the plant, and everything else around it. Do you think somebody planted it?” Carol continued her thought. “How else would it have gotten there?” Tom argued. “I don’t know,” Carol suggested, “maybe the wind carried its seeds, or something.” “It’s not very likely that it can propagate by seed,” Tom contradicted her, going over the information they kept churning over in the town halls lately. “Sure it can!” Carol said, very sure of herself. “Anything can propagate by seed, that’s why the plants make seed, it wouldn’t make any sense otherwise.” She paused for a second, and then she realized that she was sick and tired about having that dreadful plant and all the other things associated with it run their dinner conversation every single night. “Enough about the plant!” she said, effectively ending the subject, and then turned towards Richard. “How was school today, honey? Did you and Jack talk to your science teacher about enrolling Brenda in the science fair?” “Not yet, mom. The teacher is still trying to decide which science fair would be most appropriate,” Richard replied, with his mouth full, determined to linger on this precarious subject as little as possible. “I haven’t seen Jack lately, not since he came to ask us if you could help him with that wildlife restoration project. How thoughtful of him to include you, dear! This is exactly the kind of activity your father and I would love to see you more involved in, rather than watch you spend all of your time putting together those gizmos of yours, you know? Get out, experience nature, breathe in fresh air, do something wholesome like bringing the native habitat back to balance,” she said. “Not that we don’t appreciate your scientific curiosity, it’s just…we worry sometimes. No boy your age should spend so much time alone,” she smiled encouragingly at his son, who almost choked on the pound cake. Tom nodded in agreement, which made it clear to Richard that his parents had given a lot of thought to his and Jack’s latest commitment. “So, how is it going? Have you planted a lot of little tree saplings?” Richard made an extreme effort not fall back in shock at Jack’s latest reality embellishment, which, technically speaking, was not even a lie: they were working to preserve wildlife, if only in its hybrid mechanical form, and the project did involve being outdoors in the wetlands, in the company of his friend. ‘So that’s what the scoundrel told my parents! I was wondering how he managed to get us a free pass, no questions asked,’ he thought. He gave credit to Jack’s endless reserves of creativity and then said out loud. “Not a lot of them yet, we’re still trying to evaluate the impact of introducing a new species into the habitat, we worry that it might bring about some unforeseen outcomes.” “That sounds like such an interesting project,” Carol continued the conversation. “When do you think we will be able to see it? I can hardly wait, you know how I love nature!” “Uuhhm, I think it’s going to be a while, mom. We’re in the incipient stage of the project, there is not much to see yet,” Richard tried to change the subject. “Besides, the swamp is not that user friendly, which is why we decided to restore its natural settings to begin with.” “Oh, yes, I understand. In fact, Jack told us that the area you’re trying to restore is somewhere outside of town, near the hot springs,” Carol went on. “Be careful, Richard, with all the things that are going on over there. I’m not sure I’m entirely comfortable with you boys spending a lot of time in the area all by yourselves,” she started to say, and then she encountered Tom’s exasperated look and changed the subject. “I know, I know, I’m being overprotective! You boys go and have fun! Besides, a three mile walk every day will do you a world of good!” she flashed her son an optimistic smile. After dinner, Jack and Richard met at the library, to go over their plans for the following day. The library was surprisingly empty, maybe due to the fact that people were congregating in other venues, more suitable for talking. “So, I hear that we’re doing ecological restoration,” Richard said. “How nice of us to lend a helping hand to mother nature!” “Replanting the wetlands, that’s what I said,” Jack corrected him. “It’s not a lie,” Richard noticed. “No, it’s not. I didn’t specify what we were going to plant,” Jack explained. “One of these days, Jack…” Richard sighed. He stopped. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed the jovial librarian walking straight towards them, all smiles and looking like she was hiding something under her jacket. “Oh, boy!” Jack prepared himself. “Watch out, dude! She’s headed here!” The librarian stopped in front of the table the two were seated at, with a mysterious smile and excited by the big surprise. “You would never guess what I have here!” she pointed to the tiny bump inside her jacket, looking around surreptitiously, to make sure nobody else saw or heard her. Her concern was really unnecessary, since they were the only people inside that wing of the library. The librarian took out the pan flute from inside her jacket and placed it on the table. It wasn’t the original, Richard noticed immediately, because it had the same hand crafted finish as the new pipe distribution branch. Also, the little mechanical creature had grown a transparent shell around its complicated assembly of gears, pistons and rods, no doubt to protect them from dust and moisture. Richard wished he had thought of that when he designed the prototype. The pan flute walked hesitantly on the shiny surface, its many legs quivering with apprehension towards the new environment, and then chimed harmoniously in a major scale, as if to ask what it was doing there. “Isn’t this the cutest thing you’ve ever seen in your life?” the librarian couldn’t contain her excitement. “And to think that thing from the swamp is capable of generating something like this! We really should pay more attention to that dome, it seems to hide endless treasure inside!” “How did you manage to get one out of the dome?” Jack couldn’t help himself. “Oh, I just stepped inside and grabbed it,” the librarian said, as if it was nothing. “The smell is not to be taken lightly, but you get used to it, eventually. It is a swamp, you know…” she excused herself, as if the stench was her fault. “Is it safe in there?” Richard managed to mumble. “Well,” the librarian said, “you have to go prepared, the leaches can be a menace. Nothing a pair of rain boots can’t handle, though.” She stopped and looked lovingly at the pan flute again. “I wonder what this little guy uses for energy!” “I’m sure it’s solar powered,” Richard said, too unimpressed and sure of himself not to arouse suspicion. “And how are you so sure?” the librarian gave him a probing look. Richard pointed to a little black surface inside the shell. “Aah, the cells, of course,” the good lady seemed satisfied with the finding. “Although you have to ask yourself where in the world did the dome find the information on how to produce solar shingles. Surely it couldn’t have come up with it all by itself, somebody must have thrown one inside at some point.” Richard and Jack looked at each other, not knowing how to extricate themselves from this discussion, which had all the perilous unpredictability of an avalanche. The librarian was just getting ready to go back to her tasks, to Jack’s great relief, when Richard rekindled the conversation, managing to aggravate his friend. “So, what are you doing with it?” the boy asked, unperturbed by the fact that he was reopening the Pandora’s box his friend had tried so hard to close. “I’m not sure. It doesn’t seem to do much, it just chimes and moves around, but it’s very entertaining. It makes for a great pet. If I want it to go to sleep, I just cover it with a blanket. You should see it roam around under it for a little bit, before settling down! It drives the cats crazy!” the librarian was excited to share. “Doesn’t the chiming bother you?” Richard continued the questioning, despite the fact that Jack’s very sharp elbows were already poking a hole in his ribs. “No, I got used to it. Actually, I’m trying to teach it to sing. Watch this!” she said, and started whistling a little jingle. The pan flute responded in a somewhat guttural tone, a little flat. “I can’t get enough of it!” the librarian exclaimed, eyes glowing with excitement. “Does it…” Richard was preparing an entire selection of questions, when he was interrupted by Jack, who had completely lost his patience with this blunder wagon waiting to overturn. “Sorry to interrupt,” Jack said, putting sufficient urgency in his request to make it believable. “Richard, did you forget our science club starts in ten minutes? We barely have enough time to make it there, that is if we’re running.” Richard tried to dodge his friend’s diversion, but the latter grabbed his arm and his backpack and pushed him towards the door, walking backwards and excusing himself to the librarian. “I wish we could stay, that little guy is so great, maybe some other time!” he said, dragging Richard out the door despite sustained resistance from the latter. “Have you lost it completely?!” Jack scolded his friend as soon as they were out of earshot. “Were you planning to show her the blueprints and the operation manual next? Do you know how hard I have to work to keep us out of trouble? What do you think she was going to do, present you with a medal? You act like a baby, dude!” “Did you hear she went inside the dome?” Richard replied, completely ignoring his friend’s misgivings. “You mean the putrid stinking swamp? Environmental remediation indeed!” Jack mumbled under his breath. “Don’t knock what you don’t understand, you’re not a frog,” Richard tried to present to him the benefits of swamp living as seen through the eyes of an amphibian species. “Yet!” Jack replied, exasperated. “I often worry that your next project will turn me into one!” “I don’t have the necessary capabilities,” Richard teased. “Well, at least now we know why the dome is protecting the pan flutes. If the librarian found them endearing, the plant probably did too, on an instinctive, primal level.” “You should have brought it a Brenda,” Jack said. “Brenda is not endearing, she looks like the thing that eats you at the end of a horror movie, only smaller!” Richard wanted to protest the offense against his dear jellyfish, but Jack waved his hand with annoyance before giving him a chance to reply. “We’re late again, dude! My persuasive abilities can only stretch so far! Who’s going to believe we’re planting tree saplings at this time of day?” Jack pointed out that it was already too dark for horticultural pursuits. “You’ll think of something,” Richard said, confident in his friend’s coaxing abilities. “So, what now? Do we wait for the pan flutes to multiply and take over the world?” Jack asked, as he was preparing to head towards his home. “I don’t think there are a lot of people crazy enough to enter that death trap of a dome and bring them out, but I’m sure a few of them will. It seems the little monsters make great pets!” Richard cracked up. “And you don’t think they’d come out all by themselves,” Jack doubted his friend’s theory. “Not any more than your toes would decide to split and wander around all by themselves,” Richard replied, very sure of himself. “So, our librarian went inside the belly of the beast, so to speak. Visiting the entrails of a living entity,” Jack couldn’t help retch. “Don’t you think we should tell her, dude?” he asked pitifully, his face all scrunched up at the thought of walking through products of digestion. “Who’s the baby now?” Richard retorted. “Besides, I think the putrid smell was reasonably self-explanatory. Why don’t you mind spending time inside the other dome? People go there for lunch!” “I don’t think I’ll ever eat again,” Jack commented, with a forlorn look in his eyes. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit francisrosenfeld.substack.com [https://francisrosenfeld.substack.com?utm_medium=podcast&utm_campaign=CTA_1]