Chapter Two Part Two

Anandra caught the way Gus was looking at him. “What?”

“I hate to admit it, but I might need your help.”

Gus struggled moving Caius the handful of feet necessary to reach the container. There was no way she would be able to relocate him into the heart of her sanctuary without assistance.

Anandra looked startled but happy. “Of course.”

Sadly, his response did nothing to help Gus’s mood. The idea of allowing anyone—even a child—into her lair was abhorrent.

Gus wanted nothing more than to toss these two out and forget everything that had happened.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t an option. Caius was too injured and the boy already knew this place’s location. The damage had been done. Gus gave him half a day before he was recaptured. Those ears of his and the perfect symmetry of his features ensured he’d stick out like a sore thumb on Titan.

When that happened, he’d lead his captors right back to her doorstep.

“Grab his arms,” Gus ordered, moving around to Caius’s feet.

Anandra held up the nawana orchid. “What should I do with this?”

“Place it on the table over there. I’ll get it settled later,” Gus ordered, a little surprised the boy hadn’t already ditched the orchid. It was a show of thoughtfulness on his part. Or maybe he was just too worried over Gus’s reaction if something happened to it.

Anandra looked around, finding an empty spot on a nearby table and setting the pot on it.

Of the nineteen containers Gus had re-purposed for her own use, this one was the simplest, containing only a rug and a few tables. It was cozy. Homey even. With flower pots decorating every surface and priceless works of art on the walls.

What could Gus say; she liked pretty things.

Gus waited until he’d grabbed Caius’s arms before bending down to do the same with the commander’s feet. Even with the boy’s help, it wasn’t easy to move him.

“What do they feed him to make him so big?” Gus complained from between gritted teeth.

She grunted and heaved, dragging the Tuann one foot. Then two.

By the time they reached the opposite wall and the door waiting there, Caius had procured a whole new set of bruises.

Gus dropped his feet to unlock the door. There was a beep and then the sound of the door unsealing. She shouldered it open before reaching back to grab Caius’s ankles to resume dragging. Anandra was smart enough not to comment as they carted Caius through her main living area. Past a spiral staircase that led up to the container above and her bedroom.

Surprisingly, shipping containers made for a comfortable home as long as you were willing to take the time and energy to adapt them for your use. Gus had spent hours removing walls and ceilings where necessary to create a home perfect for her needs. Holding everything together was a adhesive of her own design. One stronger than any sealant sold for emergency ship repairs. Gus wagered that Titan could break apart—and as long as her sanctuary remained intact—it could float off into the void, no harm done.

The plants inside would keep her in oxygen. Food would be her only concern.

Then again, there was her vegetable garden.

As long as she was careful, she could survive for quite a while on whatever she had on hand.

The smell of green, growing things and wet dirt grew steadily stronger as they neared one of Gus’s four green houses. This one was dominated by those plants native to Tuann worlds. There were other species too. All with varying degrees of toxicity.

If they’d gone left in her living room, they would have found the greenhouse where she kept her night collection. Those plants that flourished in darkness.

Kind of like Gus.

Anandra couldn’t hide his wonder as he beheld the forest before him. Something that wasn’t just out of place for the environment but also should have been impossible. Tuann trees were known to be horrendously difficult to cultivate. You couldn’t even find them on the black market.

Unlike those trees found on Tuann ships which were transplanted after a certain age and given a piece of their planet’s Mea’Ave, its soul, for safe keeping, these had been nurtured by Gus from seedlings she’d obtained directly from their home planets.

At first, she’d just wanted to see what would happen. To do what others thought impossible.

Ironically, it was probably those same trees that had drawn Caius to her doorstep. The Tuann were kind of like energy vampires, able to sustain themselves for a short time on the plants native to their planets.

To her relief, Anandra didn’t voice any of the questions she could see brewing. Someone must have taught him the danger of knowing things you shouldn’t.

Together, they dragged Caius further into the forest. To the base of the first Tuann tree Gus ever cultivated.

She wasn’t happy about the marks they left in their wake or the way Caius’s hand caught on a wilia, yanking it out of the ground.

Breathe, just breathe, Pityrodia Augustensis. Focus on why you’re doing this, Gus chanted to herself, barely resisting the urge to kill and/or maim the unconscious Tuann.

Keeping Caius alive was a necessary evil to prevent the calamity that was known as her sister, Kira. The structural integrity of Titan depended on this man making it home.

Alive.

It was rare that she full named herself. It was a hint as to how upset about the situation she was.

Pityrodia Augustensis. Otherwise known as Mt. Augustus Foxglove.

Gus for short.

A humble plant from the old Earth continent of Australia. Considered more of a bushy shrub, its flowers were a deep purple and covered in woolly hairs. It was long since thought to have gone extinct due to human destruction of its habitat, but when it was still living it had clung to life on rocky hillsides with a tenacity that Gus admired.

She’d chosen it as her namesake for its hardiness and the unique beauty that was all its own.

Sometimes Gus wished she’d chosen something simpler. Maybe a little more common.

Oleander or Belladonna maybe.

No, she was a Pityrodia Augustensis through and through.

There was a slight gasp from her side as the energy from the Tuann plants reached out to embrace them.

Anandra’s eyelids fluttered shut as something that was a lot like yearning filled his features.

“Come on,” Gus ordered, uncomfortable with what she saw on his face.

He was much too young for such an expression. It made Gus wonder what his story was.

Not that she would ever ask. That would indicate interest. Of which she had none. She was just a little curious, is all.

They dragged Caius to the massive choko tree in the far corner. As soon as they reached it, Gus dropped his legs, eager to put distance between herself and Roake’s military commander.

“Wait—I thought you were going to help him,” Anandra protested.

“And I have.”

What more did this boy want from her? She’d protected him and Caius from those humans. She’d given them access to her inner sanctum and the trees he needed to repair himself.

Anything more would be excessive. He might as well ask for her life.

A chirrup came from one of the nearby bushes. A second later, an animal the size of Gus’s fist with lilac colored fur stuck its head out of the leaves.

Seeing Gus, it fluttered its wings, bobbing up and down as it prepared to launch itself airborne.

“Is that a chatterling?” Anandra asked in a hushed whisper.

His features were filled with an admiration that bordered on reverence as he watched the creature landed on Gus’s shoulder. The chatterling hooked its long tail around her neck, rubbing its cheek against hers in greeting.

Gus offered it her finger. “Hello, there.”

The chatterling showed up one day out of the blue. She found it eating the pollen from the azira aliri she’d included in the ecosystem.

It was something of a mystery as to how the chatterling managed to find its way inside considering the containers were supposed to be airtight. Gus left it alone because of how happy the forest had been since its arrival.

“I’ve never seen one in person before,” Anandra admitted.

Gus checked his expression out of the corner of her eye.

Chatterlings were quite common on Tuann held planets. For him to never have encountered one meant one of two things.

Either he was from a small minor House that existed outside the Tuann empire’s borders. There were several within spitting distance of Titan. Or he belonged to a pair of wanderers. Those who’d been exiled from their House for some imagined slight or another.

Gus was betting on the second of those two options.

It did beg the question of why someone of Caius’s status—a favored son of a major House—would be running around with an outcast’s child.

“Keep an eye on him,” Gus instructed, giving the chatterling one last pat before unwrapping its tail from around her neck. She lifted the small creature onto a low hanging branch of the choko tree.

It chirruped before disappearing into the tree’s canopy with a rustle of leaves.

She’d never been sure exactly how much the creature understood, but its behavior made her think it was intelligent.

“Where are you going?” Anandra protested as Gus walked away.

“I have work. You two have delayed it long enough.”

Gus paused. It irked her, but a warning might be in order.

Normally, she would let nature run its course. If someone was stupid enough to go touching things they shouldn’t, they deserved whatever happened next.

But this was a child she was dealing with. Impulsive and reckless without the wisdom that age and trauma brought.

Caius would also wake up eventually. It behooved Gus to keep Anandra in the same condition in which she’d found him.

“Keep your hands to yourself,” Gus advised.

While there were a few trees and plants that were harmless, the vast majority were deadly. Among those, most required the ingestion of their leaves, flowers, or bark to present a problem but not all.

“A-alright, I will,” Anandra stammered.

He looked slightly confused but nonetheless open minded and attentive. It made Gus wonder if she should add anything or if that was enough. He’d seen what the orchid did to those humans, and she’d warned him. That was more than most people got.

Just then, Anandra’s stomach rumbled. Painfully loud in the otherwise silent greenhouse. He avoided meeting Gus’s eyes as his cheeks flushed with shame. It was clear that he was embarrassed but Gus couldn’t figure out why.

“How long has it been since you ate?”

“I don’t know,” Anandra admitted, sounding miserable.

She contemplated the top of his head, coming to a decision a second later. “I’ll bring you something as soon as I can.”

She’d heard children liked to put things in their mouthes. If providing food would keep him from nibbling on something he shouldn’t, it was a small price to pay.

Besides, Gus knew what hunger was. That gnawing pain in the gut that became all you could think about. The only thing worse was when that feeling faded, leaving you numb as you wasted away.

No child would starve while in her care. She was a hermit. Not a monster. No matter what her dreams told her sometimes.