Section 31_ Rogue - Andy Mangels [136]
Picard followed Keru, who knew his way quite well, no doubt from past visits. They eventually found themselves walking along a broad, pebbled walkway. As they moved forward, surrounding them from the sides and above was a trellis, entwined with brilliant blue and red vines and creepers. Multiple forms of flowering plants, their forms elongated by the light Martian gravity, peeked through in strategic places, purple and white and green splashes amongst the bright primary colors of the vines. The scent of growing things reminded Picard of his family’s vineyards in Labarre, France, which his late brother Robert had tended for so many years.
Passing the trellis, Keru and Picard continued on the walkway as it wended through a lush green lawn, similar to those the captain was used to seeing on Earth. Ahead of them was a multilevel house with transparent-walled hothouses and attached arboretums. Picard saw more examples of lush plant life through the walls.
A stocky man with reddish, gray-streaked hair emerged from the greenhouse to their left, carrying a three-pronged digging device in one hand, and a well-worn leather bag in the other. He puttered for a little bit, adjusting something in the bag, then noticed the two men standing there.
“Ranul!” he said, dropping his bag to the ground. He trotted over and heartily shook the Trill’s hand, then gathered him in for a hug. Breaking away, he turned to look at Picard.
“Rhyst, this is Captain Jean-Luc Picard,” Keru said, gesturing toward his superior officer. “Captain Picard, this is Rhyst Hawk.”
Picard noticed that the elder man’s smile dimmed considerably, but the handshake was firm and polite. Rhyst had a strong grip, and Picard imagined him to be only a few years his senior. “Welcome to Mars, Captain Picard,” he said.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir. I only wish I could visit under different circumstances.”
“Yes, well, uh, come on up to the house,” Rhyst said, looking distracted. “It can get a wee bit hot out here around the nurseries. I think we’ve got some cool juice of some sort to offer you.”
Picard and Keru followed Rhyst inside. The interior of the house was decorated eclectically, with knickknacks sharing wall space with shelves full of old books. While Rhyst went off to get the drinks, Picard perused one of the shelves. He was pleased to find volumes dating back to the 20th and 21st centuries-he saw works by Hesterman, Tormé, and Zabel. A leather-bound copy of The Martian Chronicles by Ray Bradbury-the colony’s namesake-was displayed proudly beside a dog-eared biography of Lieutenant John Mark Kelly, the leader of an early illfated Mars mission. It was rare to find books this old now; the few paper products to survive the Third World War had long since deteriorated, and today’s books were almost exclusively produced on padds.
“Here you are. Some fresh tangerine-moova juice,” said Rhyst, appearing in the entryway and holding out two glasses of cool, pink liquid. A woman appeared in the doorway behind Rhyst, and-upon seeing Keru-let out a slight yelp and rushed to hug him.
Picard sipped the drink the older man had offered him, as Keru smoothed the hair of the woman who was now clutching him. Eventually, they broke away from each other, and Keru introduced Picard to Camille Hawk. She gestured toward the bookshelf.
“One of my weaknesses,” she said, her eyes moist. “Old books.”
“I was marveling at the collection,” Picard said. “I have a few ancient books of my own, but I doubt I could even fill one of your shelves.”
“Well, I’d always been told that you were quite the archaeologist,” she responded, smiling slightly. “Each to their own form of preserving the past, eh?”
“Yes,” he agreed, returning her smile.
Camille moved over to one bookshelf and opened a leather-bound volume she found there. She held it out to Picard. He saw that it was a 1911 copy of Peter and Wendy by James M. Barrie, and