The Dream Factory

The Gardener

'Hello Commander.' The Hlioti gathered up his kneeling mat from the grass, stood and turned to greet his visitor.  

'You were expecting me?' 

'I can see your ships. I was expecting someone.' He pulled his robes around him to ward off the late afternoon chill before reaching down to pick up his trug. 

'You are the Hlioti?' The Admiral impatiently tapped his silver tipped cane on his boot. 

The Hlioti stopped arranging his garden tools and studied the Admiral for a moment. 'I am.' 

'I am Admiral Rama the commander of the Xian fleet.' The Admiral motioned toward the sky as if producing evidence in court. 

A thousand twinkling ships filled the pale sky above them. The patterns of dimpled lights increased in complexity as more ships appeared, their hulls glowing fierce white from their cooling hyper drives as they dropped out of hyperspace and assumed formation above them.  

'I see.' The Hlioti looked back across his garden before shuffling off toward the flower beds picking off dead flower heads as he went. Occasionally he stopped to inspect one of his creations and offer it a few words of encouragement. 

'The ships to the east are ours; those to the west are the spawn of the Valtver. It is here the Republic will stop their insidious advance through the universe. It's most inconvenient that your planet is here. We had believed this system contained no planets.' 

'I'm sorry we have become an inconvenience to you Admiral. Would you walk with me? I have a few things to do.' 

'I didn't mean that Hlioti. It's our mistake, a misread star chart or a wrongly mapped location. I will hold someone accountable when I return to the fleet.' 

'I'm sure you will,' the corners of Hlioti eyes creased with momentary humour. 'I would suppose a misplaced planet is probably most inconvenient to a star fleet.' 

'Hlioti I'm not sure you understand. Your planet has now become of strategic importance to both forces. I don't know how to say this Hlioti but in all likelihood both fleets would prefer the planet to be destroyed rather than becoming of strategic value to the other. I'm here to request you evacuate. I can see you have no ships so we will facilitate that. The planets population is small and I have enough support ships. The Admiral looked doubtfully at the Hlioti's sandal clad feet. You are the right person to talk to? You seem to have no government or central cites?' 

'You are talking to the right person Admiral. I am the Hlioti.'  

'What is this place?' 

'We call it Numa. It probably means garden to you. The Garden Planet of Numa, if you will. We spend our lives cultivating what we see around us to release its inner beauty. What you see here represents the thousands of years work of the peoples who have lived here. Here on Numa I am The Hlioti. The Gardener.' 

The Admiral nodded his head slowly and as casually as he could checked his timepiece. 

The Hlioti gently brushed the earth off the worn cloth around his knees. 'Of course the title does not extend to giving me a uniform as splendid as yours. This Republic, tell me about it.' 

The Admiral drew in his breath. 'The Republic provides a cloak of protection to all its children and extends its wisdom to all it encounters. For the benefit of all, for the benefit of one.' 

'And what about those that don't want to join your Republic Admiral?' 

'They all do when they see the good it will bring them. It's for the common good.' 

'And if they don't they are soon persuaded when they see the spiked ships of your armada hanging over their planets.' 

'It's for the common good.'  

'Yes of course, as you say. The common good.' echoed the Hlioti picking up his clippers. 'And the Valtver, tell me about them?' 

'They are a pernicious race Hlioti. Their tentacles have crept out amoungst the stars, curling and enveloping all before them, dimming the glow of all the races they encounter. This is where we must meet and stop them.' 

'I see.' The Hlioti lifted a pair of shears from his trug. 'Do you garden Admiral?' 

'I have a garden at home, yes. I cultivate Nazareth flowers.' 

'Not a plant I'm familiar with but I'm sure the results are rewarding otherwise you would not bother. Look at this,' he paused and plucked a flower from one of the beds. 'Its flowers are splendidly large but its sharp thorns prick through the thickest of gloves which makes it difficult to work with. Oh dear, see what I mean.'  

He sucked a little blood from his finger before pointing to a mass of green tendrils entwined in the hedge. 'And this Admiral, it has astounding beautiful flowers. But they are so small as to be barely noticeable and it rambles uncontrollably like a weed. It strangles everything it encounters. I have to keep it constantly in check. It's what you would call ...... you used the word earlier.' 

'Pernicious?' 

'Yes that was it. Pernicious,' the Hlioti slowly pronounced the word as if worried he would forget it again.  

They rounded the corner passing the high hedges. The ground fell away before them. Flower beds overflowing with fragrant blooms crowded the valley with blazing hues of vibrant electric colour. 

The Admiral faltered, momentarily overwhelmed. 'It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.' 

'It is, isn't it? Would it surprise you to know that the flowers you see before you are hybrids of the other two. Combining the vibrant colours of the flowers of the rambling variety but not its rambling tendencies with the large sized flowers of the other but without its thorns. Quite amazing the results wouldn't you say.' He clipped a flower from its stalk. 'Here have one.' 

They had entered a small secluded area of evergreen lawn bounded by a rockery. A lone figure sat on tree trunk overlooking a cascading fountain. The Admiral instinctively placed his hand on his blaster. 

'Have you ever met a Valtverian Admiral?' 

'No actually. There has been very little contact between the Republic and them.' 

'You will not need your weapon. He is here, like you, with an offer of evacuation. Go and talk to him.' 

'We have nothing in common,' said the Admiral stiffly. 

The Hlioti rested his hand on the Admirals arm. 'His name's Nietz. He's a keen gardener. I see that surprises you. Show him the flower; he'll be interested in its cultivation.' 

The Hlioti watched as the uniformed figure walked stiffly across the lawn. The Valtverian Commander rose and bowed. For a moment they stood in silence before the Admiral, remembering the flower held it up. The Valtverian motioned to the Hlioti and made a comment the Hlioti did not catch. But whatever it was it amused the Admiral. Deep in conversation Rama and Nietz walked off into the gardens toward the glistening lake waters beyond. 

The Hlioti gathered his tools up and began gently working his way back up the slope pulling a weed here, checking a bloom there as he went. At the top he pulled open the door of his ivy covered potting shed, retrieved his gardening diary from between the cacophony of broken pots and seed packets and sat on his three legged stool in the fading rays of the sun carefully working his way through its dog-eared pages.  

He saw that later the following season the Altulumi and Exu fleets would be clashing in the Umulta system. He recalled that both races originated on planets far from their suns. He made some notes in the margin and started to make some sketches. A winter's scene would be most effective. Snow berry bushes, splashes of firewood's, golden shackle plants would show the valley off to its frost sprinkled best. Yes that would do very well.  

He would move Numa to Umulta just before the fleets met. 

Slipping away his diary he looked at the grass and shook his head. The shadows were lengthening, there was no time now. He'd have to cut it tomorrow.  

A gardener's work was never done.