Chapter 1
CHAPTER ONE
The tomato plant had finally flowered. Liora crouched beside the raised bed, her worn notebook balanced on her knee as she sketched the delicate yellow blossoms. Three flowers on the main stem and two more budding on the secondary branch she’d pinched back six weeks ago.
Her hypothesis had been correct—controlled stress produced more vigorous flowering.
She added the date and a quick notation about the soil moisture levels, then reached for her watering can.
Pip chittered from his perch on a nearby shelf, his silver-gray fur catching the morning light that streamed through the glass panels overhead.
“I’m excited too,” she said without looking up. “You can have the first ripe one. I promise.”
The little glider chittered again, then launched himself from the shelf to glide across to her shoulder. His feathered tail brushed against her neck as he settled, his large luminous eyes fixed on the tomato plant as if he could will the fruit into existence through sheer determination.
She laughed and continued her inspection.
The peppers needed support stakes because they’d grown faster than she’d anticipated.
The lettuce was ready for another harvest. The beans were climbing their trellis in enthusiastic spirals, already higher than her head.
She made notes on everything—growth rates, leaf coloration, and any signs of pest damage or nutrient deficiency.
Twenty-three varieties currently under cultivation, all of them varieties of Earth plants that had been genetically modified to survive on this colonization planet.
Fourteen successful experiments in progress, despite her limited resources.
Not for the first time, she cast a wistful glance at the wide variety of plant life in the jungle visible through the open ventilation panels, all of it inaccessible to her.
At least ARIS, the Autonomous Residential Intelligence System that controlled the rest of the tower’s systems, allowed her to dictate the conditions in the greenhouse in order to run her experiments. The experiments that gave her life purpose.
She paused at the herb section, crushing a leaf of basil between her fingers and breathing in the sharp, sweet scent.
The smell always reminded her of Susan, who had taught her to cook when she was barely tall enough to reach the countertops.
Susan, who had taken care of her and tended the greenhouse before her and told her stories about the world beyond the tower.
Susan, who had simply not woken up one morning six years ago.
ARIS had told her what to do, calmly repeating its instructions until the fog of grief lifted enough for her to understand.
She’d managed to move Susan’s body to a hover cart, covering her with her favorite quilt, and then ARIS had simply…
whisked her away. Liora had never seen her again, but she still talked to her sometimes, on quiet evenings when the loneliness pressed too close.
Pip nuzzled against her jaw, sensing the shift in her mood.
“I’m fine,” she told him, scratching the spot behind his ears that always made his eyes flutter closed in pleasure. “Just thinking.”
She finished her rounds and recorded the final observations.
After cutting a small bouquet of flowers and harvesting the ripest produce, she made her way down the spiral staircase that connected the greenhouse to the rest of the tower.
The tower was seven levels in total with the greenhouse at the top, then her personal quarters, the library and living spaces, the kitchen and dining area, her workshop, the storage rooms, and finally the ground level that ARIS kept sealed against the outside world.
The kitchen was her favorite room after the greenhouse with its warm wood surfaces and the balcony that looked out into the jungle.
The morning light sparkled on the copper pots hanging from the ceiling as she threw open the doors to the balcony and breathed in the familiar combination of salt air and verdant jungle.
Pip leapt from her shoulder, soaring across the room in a graceful arc before landing on his perch by the open doors.
He loved the view from here, watching the birds that occasionally ventured close to the tower, and she smiled as she placed the flowers she’d cut into a glass vase before turning to the matter of breakfast.
Deciding that her successful experiment was worth celebrating, she selected two of the eggs from her last supply delivery.
There were only a limited number of fresh ingredients in the twice yearly deliveries and she hoarded them for as long as possible.
Today’s breakfast would be an omelet with peppers and onions along with toasted bread from her latest batch and a simple salad of mixed greens and herbs.
As she worked, she hummed a tune Susan had taught her, something from Earth that she’d never been able to place in any of her music archives. The melody filled the kitchen, weaving around the clatter of utensils and the sizzle of eggs hitting the hot pan.
She was plating her meal when ARIS’s voice broke through her thoughts.
“Good morning, Liora.”
“Good morning, Ari,” she said, carrying her plate to the table by the balcony doors.
The AI had been a constant presence her entire life. Susan had explained that ARIS was a sophisticated system designed to manage the tower’s functions, but the disembodied voice had always been more like a companion, especially since Susan’s death.
“You were in the greenhouse forty-seven minutes longer than your average morning routine,” ARIS continued. “I will need to adjust your afternoon schedule accordingly.”
“The tomato plant flowered.” She picked up her fork and took a satisfied bite as Pip glided over to join her. “I wanted to document everything properly.”
“Your dedication to empirical observation continues to be admirable. Although I must remind you once again that I am quite capable of recording the information.”
“It’s not the same.” She swallowed another bite. “I need to write it down. It’s how I learn.”
ARIS didn’t respond, but she could almost feel its disapproval. She’d never understood why the AI encouraged her research but disapproved of her methods. Perhaps it was simply its inherent nature to prefer automated systems over manual ones.
“The solar panels are operating at ninety-eight percent efficiency today,” ARIS continued after a moment. “I will need to perform maintenance on the secondary generator this afternoon. There may be temporary power fluctuations.”
“Fine,” she agreed. “I can work in the garden then.”
She ate in the usual silence, watching the play of light and shadow across the jungle canopy.
Sometimes she imagined what it would be like to walk among those trees, to touch the strange purple-tinged leaves and see the colorful birds up close.
Susan had promised to take her when she was older, but then she was gone, and ARIS had explained that it wasn’t safe.
The outside world is dangerous, Liora. The tower is your sanctuary.
She’d accepted that for years, finding contentment in her experiments and the vast library of knowledge at her fingertips.
But lately, a restlessness had taken root in her chest, growing stronger with each passing day.
She would find herself staring at the jungle, wondering what lay beyond the visible trees, or standing at the tower’s base, pressing her hand against the sealed doors with an inexplicable longing.
“Weather report,” she said as she finished her breakfast and gave Pip his portion.
“Current conditions: partly cloudy, temperature twenty-eight degrees Celsius, humidity ninety-two percent. Wind from the southwest at twelve kilometers per hour. No precipitation expected for the next forty-eight hours.”
She pulled her notebook from the pocket of her dress and recorded the data.
She’d been tracking weather patterns for as long as she could remember, looking for trends, trying to understand the rhythms of the world outside.
Susan had called it her “scientific obsession,” but she’d always said it with a smile.
“Barometric pressure?”
“One thousand and twelve millibars, stable since dawn.”
She noted that as well, then flipped back through her records. The pressure had been dropping for the past week, which usually meant a storm was building somewhere out over the ocean. But the prediction said no rain for two days. Interesting.
“You appear distracted this morning,” ARIS observed.
“Just thinking,” she said, putting her notebook away. “Can you display the satellite imagery from this morning?”
“Displaying now.”
A section of the wall shimmered and transformed into a screen, showing a bird’s-eye view of the region. The tower was a small gray dot at the edge of the jungle, where the green gave way to the rocky coastline and the deeper green of the ocean beyond.
She’d asked ARIS once why they’d never received any visitors. ARIS had explained, in its calm and patient way, that the tower’s location was not recorded on any maps and that the surrounding jungle was too dense and dangerous for travelers.
She had accepted the explanation because she’d had no reason to doubt it.
But sometimes, in the quiet hours between waking and sleeping, she wondered what it would be like to meet another person.
To hear a voice that wasn’t Ari’s measured tones or Pip’s chattering or her own words echoing off the stone walls.
“Magnify the coastline.”
The image zoomed in, showing the rocky beach below the tower where waves crashed against dark stone.
The resolution was high enough that she could see the tide pools she’d studied through the observation scope, the places where seabirds nested in the cliffs, and the cave system that Susan had told her was full of wonders she’d never see for herself.
Why can’t I go outside?