Surrounded by all the noise, Andre couldn't make a rational decision.
Andre needed some time to think. He walked out onto the balcony outside the Tower of Stars. He stood there by himself, gazing up at the stars and down at the empty square below. He suddenly felt a weight lift from his shoulders.
For some reason, he thought of a joke.
Legend has it that after Victor Chu, the final emperor of the Sacrum Chu Imperium, ascended to the throne, the captain of the Imperium Guards responsible for the emperor's safety, Charles—was that his name? Anyway, the name doesn't matter—had heard unsettling rumors about plots to assassinate the Emperor. These rumors kept him up at night, turning his meals to ash in his mouth; he looked like he'd been run through the wringer. When word reached him that the emperor, Victor Chu, had indeed been assassinated, Charles heaved a sigh of relief and declared, "God save the Emperor. It's finally over!"
Did that ever actually happen? The answer had long since been swallowed up by the sands of time, but Andre could relate to Captain Charles's predicament. When the worst finally happens, there's an odd tranquility that settles in.
Before Andre knew it, there he was, back at that familiar eco-pod. It was as if the stars had conspired, pulling him toward this very spot.
He lifted his hand to knock but then found something was out of place. The door was not shut tight, and a peek through the gap revealed it was intentionally left open.
Andre was taken aback. He was well aware that the eco-pod was designed to be airtight, ensuring its internal environment remained pristine with slightly elevated atmospheric pressure. Besides, the old gardener was always so attentive to detail. He was the sort who'd notice an off-color speck on a plant's leaf, even if it were hidden in the dimmest nook. Overlooking a detail as crucial as shutting the door? That just didn't add up.
With his heart in his throat, Andre gently swung the door wide open and ventured in.
The air didn't welcome Andre with its usual warm, moist embrace, nor did the familiar scents of vibrant life and fresh soil greet him. Instead, a subtle whiff of decay lingered in the air. As Andre stepped inside, the overhead sensor light hummed back to life, casting its glow. At first glance, the evergreen climbers enveloping the glass corridor looked just as he remembered; but on closer inspection, something was amiss. Those once expansive, luxuriant leaves had wilted. They had taken on a darker shade of green, as if they bore the weight of some hidden sorrows.
Pushing on, Andre was met with an ever-stronger scent of rot. The once majestic palm tree that graced the middle of the main hall now looked bedraggled, its crown sagging in defeat.
What happened here?
Andre furrowed his brow. It had been only a week since he last set foot here; how did things go south so quickly?
The plants housed in the surrounding eco-pods didn't look good either. Many sagged despondently, their leaves hanging limp, while a few had collapsed completely, their foliage crinkled and yellowed, clearly devoid of life.
He couldn't help but be reminded of that little glass orb; just like that tiny world, this once-bustling green paradise was also crumbling.
What happened here?
Since the day he discovered this eco-pod, Andre had secretly deemed it his haven. Amidst its flourishing greenery, he tapped into emotions he never knew existed, feelings that lulled him into serenity.
Andre looked around. By now, the City of Antontas had moved out of the shadow zone, allowing a golden effulgence to filter through the dome of the eco-pod. It laid a resplendent, golden sheen over this mini world. Never had this place gleamed so brightly, yet never had it seemed so withered. Gently touching the plants that once brimmed with life, a tide of melancholy washed over Andre.
Out of the blue, footsteps echoed in Andre's ears. Turning sharply, he spotted the old gardener hobbling out from the passage behind him, carrying a metal bucket and wielding a fine brush. As their eyes met, a smile danced across the gardener's weathered face. "So, you've come."
"What's going on here?" Andre's voice was tinged with concern, "Why has this place fallen to pieces like this?"
The old man placed the bucket on the floor. "They've pulled the plug—on both the project and the energy system. It won't be long before we're walking in a winter wonderland here."
"Pulled the plug? Who pulled the plug?"
The old man sighed deeply and shook his head. "The whole point of this experiment was to pave the way for the ecological area in Crux Plaza. The word on the street is the proposal kept hitting a brick wall, but..." a bitter smile briefly crossed his face, "it's clear as day why. Crux Plaza is the crown jewel of downtown Antontas; it's prime real estate. Who wouldn't want their main base closer to the Tower of Stars? Minister Morian from the Ecological Construction Department kept issuing that proposal, but it never saw the light of day. Now, I reckon it's all for naught."
Andre suddenly felt embarrassed. Undeniably, ever since the tumult of the X Star System incident, Morian's proposal had been shoved to the back of the line. Yet, reading between the lines, Andre felt there was more to this story. If it were purely about energy, there would be no reason to shut down this tiny eco-pod. Having familiarized himself with the eco-pod over these last few days, Andre was aware that its energy consumption was just a drop in the bucket. The decision to shut down the pod had more to do with politics than practical concerns.
"I've heard the Ecological Construction Department's proposal," Andre said, slowly. "Morian was shooting for the stars, hoping to turn the entire Crux Plaza into a haven mirroring Earth's untouched wilderness, topped off with a grand dome."
"True, we were chasing the dream of letting people relive the ecosystem of Earth." the old man concurred with a nod. "The Ecological Construction Department's weather control tech could whip up a variety of climates, though it had its Achilles' heel—it only worked within enclosed dome spaces. By the way, as you witnessed during your last visit, we had a mini version of that weather controller right here, and it worked like a charm. Alas, that wonderful creation will never go into production..."
"There's still hope," Andre interjected. "If Antonios takes a shine to the idea of terraforming Garden Planet, we might just have the magic touch with this tech."
"Terraforming Garden Planet?" The old man forced a bitter smile, "That's just a pipe dream."
"Why is that?" Andre was confused, "I totally get that terraforming the Garden Planet is no cakewalk. I once stumbled upon an early Imperial report about the Garden Planet. It detailed the various phases necessary to develop the planet. They estimated that it would take anywhere from four thousand to ten thousand years to transform the planet into a place where humans could walk without wearing respirators. Even the most optimistic estimate, four thousand years, is still longer than the entire history of human space travel to date. I bet that's why the Empire decided not to bite off more than they could chew with the Garden Planet project; but technically, nothing is stopping us."
"I never said that it was a technical issue," the old man commented, shaking his head, "Still, if we're talking just tech, I wouldn't hold my breath for a good outcome." He gestured towards the fading life in the eco-pods. "Now, what catches your eye?"
Looking where the old man pointed, Andre saw the tiny insects that usually hid out of sight. They were up in the air, weaving between the light and shadow, like ghosts of a bygone era, mourning a dying world.
"Do you think this is all there is to see? These plants and tiny bugs?"
Andre looked puzzled but gave a slight nod.
"You're only scratching the surface, kid. This world is deeper and more intricate than you can fathom," the old man said. He reached down with his gaunt hand, scooping a handful of earthy brown soil from beneath a deceased plant. Offering it for Andre's inspection, he posed, "Now, what's this in my hand?"
This question caught Andre off guard. After a brief pause, he responded carefully, "Is this... soil?"
"To be precise, this is synthetic soil," the old man started, gazing down with eyes filled with compassion. "The Ecological Construction Department went the extra mile to perfect this concoction. I won't bore you with all the details, but it's essentially made using a very special asteroid dust. Cultivating the bacteria was the hardest nut to crack in this biosphere. Each gram of soil teemed with billions of bacteria. Without these microbes, no plant could grow in that soil. It goes to show that life's symbiosis runs deeper than one might think."
He paused for a moment before continuing, "In fact, the Garden Planet is no different. It boasts its own ecosystem; its soil is teeming with native microbes that are stubbornly resilient. Rather than saying we outsiders aim to transform Garden Planet, it's more apt to say we're trying to blend ourselves into its existing system, a feat we might never truly accomplish. These are technical challenges, mind you. I'm bullish on the idea that the torchbearers of the future will pioneer more cutting-edge planetary transformation techniques. However, the true stumbling block in our path isn't the tech; it's—"
The old man pointed to his chest and then looked deep into Andre's eyes.
"You're referring to our heart?" Andre questioned.
"Exactly." The old man affirmed with a nod.
"What makes you say that?"
"There was a philosopher from ancient Earth named Gibran. He once remarked, 'We've already walked too far, so far that we've forgotten why we embarked in the first place.' His words, timeless as they are, are still applicable today. For over three thousand years, mankind has traversed among the constellations, turning our initial motivations for space-travel into mere footnotes of history." He paused, gently returning the soil to its bed as if the plants were still alive. "Yet, what many fail to grasp is that over these three thousand years, humans living among the stars have inevitably drifted apart from one another; they've become alien to their roots. We're haunted by the gravity well, by life on the solid ground. We've been uprooted from Earth's cradle; we're oblivious to our birthplace. This is the real reason that Minister Morian's proposal was turned down. Pride and arrogance have cast us adrift. We've made strides in the realm of technology, but our souls haven't advanced an inch from where our forefathers stood three thousand years ago. It's this void that's drawn us into incessant wars, wars that shattered the Sacrum Chu Imperium, tarnished our golden era, and wiped out our achievements. We often lose sight of the fact that our achievements are built upon the monumental Lagrange Network, something, unfortunately, that we barely even understand." Shaking his head, the old man said, "The Lagrange Network, as magnificent as it is, was a double-edged sword. While it ushered us to the celestial realms, it also steered us toward our own shadowy, twisted ends. Our unchecked desires led to its downfall. No wonder Minister Morian's proposal didn't even make a ripple. As for terraforming the Garden Planet, that's chasing the wind."
"Sir, are you just an ordinary gardener?" asked Andre.
The old man spread his hands, and for the first time, Andre noticed they were covered in calluses, the unmistakable signs of years of hard work. "Each and every one of us can become a gardener and sow seeds of hope for our children and the future of humanity."
Suddenly, Andre's communicator buzzed to life. A glance revealed the caller: Yue Wenfeng, Chairman of the Terran Sphere Government. It appeared the communication center had successfully established a direct line.
With a fleeting glance at the old man and a moment's hesitation, Andre answered the call.
