For the Love of Botany (Revisited)

Rousseau brightened up slightly. “It was a highly concentrated herbicide,” she told him, “Corporal Renae stumbled on its effectiveness while Blake’s squad defended the R & D Area. We got it into the sprinkler system and used it in its diluted form to destroy all the plants in the Base.”

“Okay,” said the General, “We know it works. Do we have any more?”

“I’m afraid not,” Rousseau replied, “But we have the formula. The chemicals we have in storage can be used to make some additional supplies, but not much.”
“If I may interject,” said McGuire, standing up, “We have to get word of this discovery out. Humanity must know about this.”

“And just how are we going to accomplish that?” asked the General, “Smoke signals?”

“No sir,” McGuire persisted, “We have some communication equipment. I could uplink with our satellite and bounce a message around for all to hear. The Russians showed that it could be done.”

“We’re barely getting along with our power at a bare minimum as it is,” said the General, “And you want to use it all for this?” The General was starting to anger.

Grant moved to top this argument. “I agree that our low power levels mean that we can’t attempt this at the moment,” he said looking at the General, “But as we’re going to have to abandon the Base soon anyway, I suggest we attempt the message just before we leave. How about that?” There was grudging approval from all concerned. “Right,” he continued, “That’s settled.”

“Okay, Fair enough,” said the General, “The only question that faces us now is what we do now. The transport ship to Sanctuary is due at the usual pick up point in under a month. We have plenty of families who will now be going with it. What about the rest of us?”

The question was left in the air. Everyone had at least considered leaving the fighting behind and making a new life away from the plants. Could this be the opportunity to do this? There had been so much fighting already, and they were so few now. What good could they possibly do now? Sitting next to Grant, Renae looked over the people before standing up. Although she was not a senior officer, she had been asked to attend this meeting because of her role in yesterday’s battle. She had been asked to give her opinions freely; she was going to do just that.

“I have been a rebel for as long as I can remember,” she told them, “Before I was converted, the rebels I served with were a small band of women. They didn’t have much; a few handguns, a couple of knives. But what we lacked in numbers or equipment, we made up for in courage. For years we fought a guerrilla war deep within Breeder territory. We took our victories where we could get them, but suffered many losses. Many of my comrades were killed or converted, but we fought on.” She stopped for a moment and took a calming breath. Remembering her former life was not pleasant, considering that it was Renae who had ultimately betrayed them.

“But as hard as that life was, I would rather go back to that existence than take the transport ship to Sanctuary. No one can ask me to leave the world to it fate when there is still a chance to fight the plants. If I have to I will fight on by myself, with my bare hands.”

Grant stood up beside her, his face beaming with pride. “Well said Renae!” he told her. “Aye, we’ve had a hard time,” he said to the assembly, “But far mair people have had much worse. Do we forget the Russians? Or a’ the ither Rebels still fighting in the jungles aroond us? No, we cannae turn oor back on them. We hae tae fight on!” a few of the people gather round the table had a bit of trouble understanding Grant’s words, but the sentiment was clear enough; we fight on. One by one, those sitting round the table nodded their agreement. With that decided, they got down to just how this was to be accomplished.

The Base was soon bustling with activity; people were busily going through the Base, finding what they could still use. Rousseau was leading the scientists in producing as much herbicide as possible. McGuire worked with his technicians in re-establishing a connection with the satellite. Grant and the remaining soldiers worked in salvaging weapons and equipment. Everyone was occupied; it probably helped them to take their minds off the horrors of the past couple of days. Especially hard to bear was the cleaning up of the bodies. A mass grave had been dug in the Arboretum; the desert outside was deemed unsuitable for such an important site. The chaplain led the service, but was on the verge of breaking down himself at several points. He resolved to be strong; many would be relying on him during the coming days.

The General was kept constantly updated with how things were going. Within a couple of days, enough carriers to accommodate everyone had been made roadworthy. People were getting ready to leave. Rousseau reported that a couple of gallons of herbicide had been made; that was all that they could produce with the resources available to them. Several flamethrowers had been converted to be able to fire this deadly liquid instead. The General started thinking about how best to use this potent weapon.

The day of the evacuation arrived. People started to assemble in the disembarking area, waiting to be assigned carriers to take them away. Renae watched as a group of Breeders were taken in. They were responding well to their injections but they still had a long way to go before they were free of the plants. Renae recognised several members of her original rebel unit among them. Seeing Bethany, she went over to them.

“Goodbye Bethany,” she told her, “I hope one day you can forgive me for what I put you through.” Her old squad commander just looked at her uncomprehendingly. She still couldn’t recognise her. Once in Sanctuary, the treatments would restore her, but for now, she would remain a Breeder with a clouded mind. Turning to the carrier, so was led with the others inside.

The General was just finishing up with his work before he left the office for the last time. He was flicking through the documents contained in his filing cabinet when he came across a long forgotten folder. Briefly opening it, he suddenly remembered its contents. “Of course!” he exclaimed and went off to see Colonel Grant.

Grant was in the disembarking area, supervising the loading of the carriers, when he saw the General come hurrying towards him. “General?” he asked, “What’s the matter?”

“No problem,” the general assured him, “But I want to show you something. I just hope it survived the battle.” He hurried off, urging Grant to follow him. As they quickly walked, the General explained. “As you know, before the war with the plants, this base was used by the US Air Force for top secret research. Most of the experimental weapons and vehicles were gone long before I was assigned here.”

They had come to a large set of doors. “But this was still here,” he said. He unlocked the doors using a set of keys he had found in the folder. The doors creaked open to reveal an old hanger. As Grant’s eyes became used to the dim light within, he could make out a large shape covered in a tarpaulin. They went over to it and they both pulled it off. A large black helicopter was revealed. It was large enough to carry about ten people easily. It held missiles and an impressive looking chain-gun. Grant inspected it closely; he was impressed. “After all,” the General concluded, smiling, “It was an Air Force Base.”

Grant turned to the General. “Sir,” he asked, “Why have we never used this against the plants?” The General looked slightly embarrassed.

“The truth is,” he explained, “We didn’t have anyone who could fly one of these things. We didn’t have a pilot in the beginning. They all had been lost in the war. As time wore on, well we forgot about it. If I hadn’t found the folder with its specs in it, it probably would have remained forgotten.”

“We have to see if we have a pilot now!” Grant told him. As they returned to the disembarking area, they knew it was unlikely; there hardly were any military personnel left. But it was worth a try. They arrived at the area and quickly got everyone’s attention. Grant told everyone what they had rediscovered and asked if anyone had any experience with flying. No one moved. “Damn it!” Grant exclaimed, disappointed; well maybe they could strip it for its weapons…

“What’s this?” he said, as he saw Carol Weiss come forward. She looked nervous, but she was the only one who had moved. “Carol, you have flying experience?”

“Yes,” she said anxiously, “Before the war I was taking flying lessons. I hoped to be a commercial pilot. I never actually sat my test, though.”

“Good enough!” he said and led her to the hangar. Rousseau and McGuire had also been called there. McGuire especially was very excited by the discovery.

“Yes!” he said happily, “You see, Professor. The real innovation in this aircraft isn’t in the mechanics or the weaponry; it’s in the computers. Geo-synchronous positioning system, multiple target acquisition, stealth capability; the list goes on and on.” Carol took one look at all the dozens of buttons, monitors and switches and turned to go. Grant had to grab her, assuring her that she only had to be able to get it off the ground and fly it. No one was expecting any aerodynamics from her. She still looked doubtful.

“We’ll hook it up to a carrier,” the General said, “We’ll see what it can do once we get it outside.”

“Right,” said McGuire, “But now General, we have other matters to take care of. We have to send our message before we go.”

“The General agreed. “All right, I suppose it’s time. Rousseau, McGuire, you’re with me. The rest of you, get this vehicle outside.” Everyone moved off, their tasks clear to them.

The General sat in a room in the R & D Area. He was sitting in front of a camera, which was hooked on to a computer operated by McGuire. The General stared impatiently at him. “How much longer are you going to be?” he asked.

McGuire’s fingers danced on the keyboard. “Just a few more seconds,” he assured him, “I’m just reinforcing our connection with the satellite. I want the whole message to by transmitted. Stand by; I’m diverting all available power now.”

The entire Base was plunged into darkness. The carrier that was pulling the helicopter had to switch on its headlights to full beam. In the disembarking area, children held on to their parents closer.

A single light shone in the Base, it was directed at the sitting General. He could see McGuire indicating that he was on. “Hello,” he said, “This is the leader of the American branch of the Free Humanity Resistance. We recently made a profoundly important discovery and it is vital that as many people as possible are made aware of it. About a week ago, a massive plant force attacked our facility. The only reason we have any survivors is that we used a newly discovered herbicide to kill our enemy. It is our hope that this could be the key to finally defeating the plants. I now hand you over to our head scientist.”

Rousseau quickly took the General’s place and explained the chemical composition of the herbicide. She then described how to produce the herbicide in great quantities. As she finished, the General took the seat once again. “I hope that you got all that,” he said into the camera, “We will no longer be able to send or receive messages for the foreseeable future, so this is our only chance to communicate with you. This message will be sent around the world, repeating itself as long as the transmitter in the satellite has power. Good luck to you all!” The camera was turned off and Rousseau and the General crowded round McGuire, eager to see if it worked. “Well?” the General asked.

A look of happiness came across McGuire’s face. “Yes sir,” he said smiling, “The message is being repeated by the satellite!”

“Great,” said the General, “Let’s hope that someone hears it.”

Everything was ready now; the carriers were filled, the helicopter had been taken outside. They were at last ready to go. The General had one last problem to take care of. He, Grant and Renae walked into the secure medical ward. They walked up the corridor and looked through the glass. The infirmary still held many of the young offspring; those who were too young to break out during the attack. Renae was all too aware that her own son was still there. They moved on to where the Queen and her Breeders were still imprisoned. That too was a consideration. Finally they walked to the final cells, where the captured male Breeders still were held. The General sighed as he considered the situation. These were all technically prisoners of war. There was no hope of rehabilitation as there was with the other Breeders; these were the enemy and always would be.

“They can’t come with us,” said Grant simply. “Even the youngest offspring could kill us eventually.” Grant thought over the options available. If they stayed where they were, they would either escape or die by starvation or when the Base collapsed. If they were free, they would surely return to the plants, to attack them again. What other choice did they have. Grant looked at the General, who nodded agreement. Grant walked up to the Queen’s cell and took out his pistol. The Queen looked on in sudden shock as Grant raised his weapon. Renae closed her eyes. A shot rang out.

Renae opened her eyes to see that Grant had shot off the lock to the Queen’s cell. The Queen stood there utterly stunned, as Grant opened the door. Surprise gave way to suspicion.

“What is the meaning of this?” she asked.

“Simple,” said the General, “We can no longer stay here. We are leaving this Base. Because of that, you are free to go?”

“Why?” the Queen demanded, still far from convinced.

“Because if we leave you here unattended, you will die, and it will be our fault,” explained Grant.

“Why don’t you simply kill us then,” said the Queen, perplexed.

“Because we are soldiers, not butchers,” the General said, “It’s what separates us from you. Go, and take your kind with you but be warned; if you attack us again, you will receive no mercy. And if your thinking of using this base for your own ends, I would advise against it. We’ve wired up every piece of explosive we couldn’t take with us. They’ve been set to detonate in two hours.” With that, he handed her the keys to the other cell doors. Without looking back, he started to lead his two soldiers out.

Renae stopped for a moment as she came to Jenny’s cell. Facing her former lover she said, “Goodbye Jenny. I hope that I never see you again. I have loved you and I have hated you. Now I just pity you. The others we are taking with us can be freed of the plants’ control, but you never can. Your life can never be your own.” She turned and walked out of the corridor, not bothering to wait for a reply. As she heard the door close behind her, she knew that her offspring would be taken out by the Breeders along with the others. What would happen to him after that was anyone’s guess.

For the Love of Botany: Chapter Eighteen: Desert Night

“I just can’t get it!” cried Carol, “It too complicated!” Carol was struggling terribly with the helicopter’s controls. Behind her, the resident computer expert McGuire did his best to keep her from giving up.

“No, no,” he soothed her, “We almost had it that time. Just ease off with the upward rotors.” Standing outside the helicopter were those who had volunteered to remain behind. They had left the Base together, as part of a huge convey of carriers. They had travelled together for miles, far away from their former home before the two groups of vehicles had separated. As the carriers headed off to the transport ship’s pick up point, those that remained in the desert knew they were truly on their own. Now they watched, worried, as the helicopter lurched about on the ground, still unable to take off. Renae went over to Grant.

“You really think Carol can get this thing airborne?” she asked him.

“She has to,” he told her, “We’re not going to drag it towards its destination. Once she gets it up in the air, all she has to do is keep a steady course. The computers will do the rest.” Even saying the words himself, Grant was not totally convinced.

“Look!” Renae suddenly said. He looked over to see the helicopter finally leaving the ground. It slowly rose into the air and hovered at about 20 feet. Everyone broke into a cheer. The helicopter flew forward and came about in a slightly uneven turn. It lowered itself gently down, but about 5 feet from the ground, it suddenly dropped. The undercarriage hit the soft ground. Luckily nothing looked damaged. As the engine was turned of and the rotor blades slowly stopped turning, the assembled people ran over to the helicopter. Carol and McGuire climbed out, obviously pleased with their efforts. The General led the hearty congratulations.

“Well, done Private!” he said, “You need a bit more practise but you’re definitely getting the hang of it!”

“Thank you sir,” replied Carol, a bit flustered, “I really need more work on my landings.” Everyone laughed.

That evening, Grant thought about the day’s events. They had left the Base forever. It had been his life for many years; it had been his home. Now this rag-tag band was all that was left of the Free Human Resistance in America. Six soldiers and three civilians were all there were left to carry on the fight. He looked over at them; apart from himself and Anderson, who had the first watch, everyone else was in their tents. The General was still the leader; Grant came next, followed by Anderson then Renae. Carol Weiss and Amy Clark were the next in line. McGuire was of course there, as was Dr. Andrews and Nurse Jean. Professor Rousseau had wanted to remain with them, but the General had not allowed it. She had to go with the others, she was told; in Sanctuary, she could teach others to make the herbicide. Grant stood and looked over the New Mexico desert; the scenery was truly beautiful. The sun had set and millions of stars could be seen in the heavens. It was still a world worth fighting for.

His sentry duty ended, Grant went over to his tent. Getting in, he saw Renae asleep on the ground with a blanket around her. He smiled and went over to get down beside her.

“Hmmmm?” Renae said, as she woke from her slumber.

“Shhhh,” Grant soothed, “It’s only me.”

“Is it my shift yet?” she asked sleepily, pulling herself up.

“No, Carol and Clark are on next,” Grant said slyly, “We have a couple of hours.” He leaned over and gently kissed her on the lips.

“Well, we better make the most of them then,” she responded and returned the kiss. Renae swept the blanket aside, showing her lover that she was only wearing a bra and her shorts. She playfully patted the bedroll beside her, “Room enough for two,” she told him. Grant took off his uniform until he was in his shirt and shorts only, then he got down beside her. Stretching out, he moved on top of her, covering her beautiful body with his own. Their mouths locked and they leisurely explored each other, allowing their arousals to build gradually.

As they kissed, Renae ran her arms over Grant’s back, loving the feel of his strong muscles as they tightened and relaxed. She pulled his shirt up until it was nearly off him. Grant broke the kiss so it could be discarded beside them. His head bowed down again, but this time his mouth caressed her slender neck.

“Ohh, Richard; that’s so good when you kiss me there,” Renae purred. Grant moved his head along her throat, gently nibbling with his teeth. Renae started to undulate under him, responding to her pleasures. Satisfied that he had done enough, he started to move downwards. He kissed her shoulders lovingly before slowly moving down to her chest. He sat up momentarily and unfastened her bra. He lifted it off to expose her creamy globes. Smiling, he leaned down and gently licked her furrow between them. Turning his head slightly, he kissed a path up the side of her left breast, leaving a trail until he arrived at her nipple. He swept the tip of his tongue around the aureole before closing his lips around the hard nub.