The Children of Hamlin - Carmen Carter [36]
Farmer Leonard edged closer to the opening and sniffed at the air. It was fresh and carried the scent of honeysuckle. He inhaled deeply, savoring the familiar smell. “Early spring, just in time for planting.”
Some of the more timid of the colonists watched him carefully, but he showed no ill effects. Others drifted to his side.
“I never saw so much green in all our years on Gryzdc,” sighed Charla. “It looks just like Yonada.”
Tomas snorted loudly and stepped back. “It’s cheap theatrics. An illusion.” He tugged peevishly at his beard.
“After all these months in space, I’ll settle for an illusion,” said Mry. “It can’t be any worse than reality.”
She was the first to step from the hard metal deck to ground that gave way beneath her feet, but Leonard followed immediately after her. The lure of open air and warm sunlight was too strong for the others to resist for long. By ones and twos they passed through the gate.
Tomas was left standing alone. “For shame,” he called after them. “I said it before and I’ll say it again: I’d as soon enter the maw of a dragon as step foot in a holodeck simulation.” He raised his voice as they moved farther away. “You applauded my ethics then, but evidently your own principles can’t stand up to temptation.”
“Come, Tomas,” responded Myra. The old woman still lagged near the entrance. “You can disapprove as easily from inside as elsewhere.”
Tomas did not move. He hooked his thumbs over his belt to steady the trembling of his hands. “I can see quite well from here.” His eyes narrowed as he watched his sister and Leonard laughing and tumbling in the meadow grass.
“Mry’s an attractive woman,” commented Myra with a dry chuckle. “And old enough to bear children.”
“Perhaps so,” he said. “But I’ll have some say as to the sire.” He gritted his teeth and stepped forward.
As soon as he walked through the portal, the metal doors meshed together with a soft hiss, then vanished. The illusion was complete. Tomas was standing in a field of rippling grass. A clear blue sky vaulted far above his head, and the warmth of the yellow sun prompted him to loosen the top buttons of his flannel shirt
Young Stvn dropped down to his knees. He dug out a handful of soil, crumbling the black loam between his fingers. Old Steven plucked a stalk of grass and chewed on the root. “Not suitable for corn, but an acre of wheat would do pretty well.”
“It’s the animals that are being put here, not the seed,” said Tomas, glaring at the two men.
“Still, it’s a waste of good land not to plant something,” said Young Stvn, exchanging approving nods with his uncle. “Decades of hard work will be needed to turn New Oregon into so pleasant a world as this.”
Tomas glared next at Dnnys and Wesley as they raced out of the barn and across the meadow to greet the adults. “Another short circuit and our sheep will be grazing on a metal deck,” he scolded Dnnys when the boys were within reach of his voice.
“I think they did a wonderful job,” said Mry. Fluttering wings brushed against her cheek, then danced away. “Look at the orange butterfly! I’ve never seen a live one before. Who thought of such a lovely detail?”
“Uh, it was my idea,” admitted Wesley.
“So you’re an artist as well as an engineer.” She plucked a stray wisp of straw from his hair.
“What’s wrong with you?” Dnnys dug an elbow into his friend’s side. “You’re turning all red.”
“The sun’s too bright,” Wesley said. Mry smiled at him and he blushed again. “I’d better recheck the construction code.”
“I wish living on a farm were as much fun as writing the program for one,” sighed Dnnys. “Then I wouldn’t mind-“
His cousin lifted a hand to his mouth and touched his lips with her finger. “Hush, Dnnys. They’ll hear you.” She glanced nervously at the other Farmers.
Myra stumped up to them, frowning dangerously. “Don’t lag about. I want to see the pens.”