The clue was shorter than any of the others. Every living thing needs tending. Below it, a simple sketch of a flowering tree pointed toward the eastern side of the city. Hannah smiled.
“I think even I can solve this one.”
David smiled. “I certainly hope so.”
The Colludian Botanical Gardens occupied nearly twenty acres overlooking the sea. Inside there was stone paths that weaved around carefully cultivated gardens, and ponds. There were small footbridges and gentle music that drifted through the gardens.
David stopped beside a bed of flowering vines. “They’re beautiful.”
Hannah glanced over. “You know what they are?”
“No.”
“You still stopped.”
He smiled. “I don’t need to know the name to appreciate the work.”
She looked at the vines again. “I like that.”
They continued along the winding path. Neither hurried. Neither checked the map. For once, they didn’t need to be anywhere.
A gardener knelt beside a small tree as he staked the truck to a support. Hannah watched for several moments.
“You could replicate that with anti-grav supports.”
The gardener looked up with an amused smile. “I could.”
“But?”
“It would grow faster.” He gently tightened the knot. “…Not stronger.”
David nodded thoughtfully. “I understand.”
The gardener smiled. “I thought you might.”
The path curved toward a glass conservatory where hundreds of flowering plants climbed toward the sunlight.
David looked upward. “The engineering is remarkable.”
Hannah laughed. “There it is.”
“What?”
“You’ve spent half the afternoon looking at roofs.”
“They’re excellent roofs.”
“They’re glass.”
“They’re load-bearing glass.”
She smiled. “You just complimented a roof.”
He looked almost embarrassed. “I may have.”
“I think I like that about you.”
He looked over. “What?”
“You appreciate things because they work.”
He considered it. “I suppose I do.”
She nodded. “So do I.”
They wandered deeper into the conservatory. Towering trees stretched nearly three stories overhead while narrow streams wound between carefully arranged gardens representing ecosystems from across the quadrant.
Eventually David spoke. “I don’t think we’ve ever had a conversation that wasn’t about cargo.”
Hannah laughed. She laughed harder than she expected. “We’ve been wasting time.”
He smiled. “It would appear so.”
“So…” Hannah folded her hands behind her back. “What do we talk about now?”
David looked around thoughtfully. “I honestly have no idea.”
She laughed again. “That’s strangely comforting.”
“It is?”
“It means we actually have things left to discover.”
They stopped beside a quiet pond filled with floating lilies. Dragonflies skimmed across the water. After a long silence, David asked, “Why engineering?”
She didn’t answer immediately. “My father.”
He nodded. “He repaired agricultural equipment on our colony.”
She smiled at the memory. “So…”
“We fixed everything.”
She looked across the pond. “I think I was twelve when I rebuilt my first atmospheric moisture pump.”
David smiled. “How did it work?”
“It exploded.”
He laughed. “I appreciate your honesty.”
“The second one worked.”
“I suspected it might.”
She looked toward him. “You?”
He rested both hands on the stone railing. “I grew up watching people rebuild.”
“Rebuild?”
“My home colony was hit by a series of severe tectonic shifts.”
She listened quietly.
“For years…everything was temporary. Housing. Power. Water.” He shrugged. “I discovered I enjoyed being one of the people who made temporary things permanent.”
Hannah looked at him for several seconds. “I don’t think you became an engineer because you like machines.”
He shook his head. “No.”
“I think you became one because you like helping people.”
He smiled. “I think you did too.”
She realized he was right.
They kept walking. The conversation drifted from favorite books to childhood pets, then to places they hoped to visit. The places they still hoped to visit one day. Hannah admitted she’d always wanted to see Andoria.
David confessed he wanted to visit Trill not for the history, but to study its irrigation systems.
She stared at him. “…You’d vacation to look at aqueducts?”
“They’re extraordinary aqueducts.”
She laughed so hard a passing couple smiled at them. “You are exactly who I thought you were.”
“I’ll choose to interpret that as a compliment.”
“It absolutely is.”
Eventually they reached a quiet overlook where the gardens gave way to a breathtaking view of Colludia Harbor. The festival shimmered below. Lanterns swayed in the distance. Music drifted faintly on the breeze.
In the distance, there was a small cafe; an elderly proprietor stepped outside carrying two glasses of iced tea. “I thought you might be thirsty.”
David looked surprised. “We didn’t order.”
“No.” The man smiled. “You’ve been here almost an hour.”
Hannah blinked. “An hour?”
“It happens.” He placed the glasses on the small table beside them. “The gardens are good at helping people forget the time.”
David reached for his wallet.
The proprietor waved him away. “You’re today’s last guests.” He smiled toward the conservatory. “I believe you’ve already paid.”
After he disappeared inside, Hannah looked toward David. “We never actually solved the clue.”
He picked up his tea. “I think we did.”
She looked around the gardens. “Everything here has been tended.”
She smiled. “I think you’re right.”
They watched the evening lights settle over the harbor. They stood together for a little while watching the sunset, neither in a hurry to leave.
