Ascending - James Alan Gardner [132]
Apology accepted.
Mini-Chilis
As we came in under the trees, we were forced to slow down—not because I was panting for air and feeling most fluttery in the stomach, but because the undergrowth was prohibitively profuse. The only way forward lay along a narrow path that had apparently been slashed by the robots; this was not a long-established trail, but a route that had recently been forced through the snarl by dint of brute strength. If there was indeed an exit door somewhere ahead, it must not be used very often.
We had only gone a short distance forward when Festina stopped and craned her head back to look up into one of the trees. Here in the forest shadows, everything was harder to see than in the open…but I could make out yellowish objects hanging amongst the tree’s dark leaves. Festina jumped high and grabbed one, pulling it off its stem with a soft pop. When she held it out for the rest of us to examine, I saw it was a waxy fruit the color of dandelions, two fingers wide at the stem and narrowing down to a point.
“Looks like a half-sized yellow chili pepper,” Aarhus said.
Festina nodded. “Back home, we called them mini-chilis. The trees grew wild all over Agua.”
“This is a tree from your home planet?”
She shook her head. “It wasn’t native to Agua, it was a transplant. Don’t know where it came from originally, but it was brought by Las Fuentes…those aliens who abandoned their colonies five thousand years ago.” She looked down at the fruit. “Everywhere Las Fuentes went, they planted minichilis. Must have been one of their favorite foods.”
My mouth watered. “Are mini-chilis tasty?”
“Don’t know,” Festina told me. “Humans who try to eat them always keel over and die before describing the flavor. Totally poisonous to terrestrial life. Our farm lost dozens of cattle because of the damned things—whenever a cow escaped from pasture, she headed straight for the nearest mini-chili tree and gobbled whatever fruit she found on the ground. I guess animals liked the smell; either that, or our herds were suicidal.”
Festina looked at the chili a moment longer, then folded her fingers over it in a tight squeeze. “Nasty stuff,” she murmured. I thought she intended to hurl it away, but instead she tucked it carefully into a jacket pocket.
Explorers are like that—even in moments of tension, they feel compelled to take plant samples.
Overmany Coincidences
“So,” Aarhus said in pensive tones, “this tree was a favorite of Las Fuentes…and it’s here on a Shaddill ship.”
“Makes you think, doesn’t it?” Festina took a few more steps down the trail, her gaze moving carefully over the jungle. “A lot of these other plants look familiar too—things from the Agua rainforest. That vine…we called it monkey rope. And this thorn bush is madre sangrienta. Both came to Agua courtesy of Las Fuentes.” She stared at the madre bush a moment longer, then turned back to us. “It would take a laboratory to prove these were the same species as the ones on my world; but at first glance, they seem identical.”
“Which means what?” Uclod asked.
Festina shrugged. “Las Fuentes abandoned their holdings five thousand years ago. A few centuries later, the Shaddill made their first appearance when they removed Oar’s ancestors from Earth. Could be that in those missing years, Las Fuentes became the Shaddill.”
“But,” said I, “Las Fuentes became horrible purple jelly.”
“That’s what the horrible purple jelly claimed,” Festina told me. “It wouldn’t be the first time an alien told a lie.”
She started down the trail again. We followed glumly…and I for one made sure I did not step on the poison fruit.
How To Talk To Doors
It turns out that jackets catch on thorns and nettles. Jackets catch on such things all the time. Back on Melaquin, I had never bothered to give wide berth to these hazards, for my skin is impervious to prickly