Chapter 22

Chapter 22
Garden
Daylight and more



Fanatics have their dreams, wherewith they weave 
A paradise for a sect; the savage too 
From forth the loftiest fashion of his sleep 
Guesses at Heaven; pity these have not 
Trac'd upon vellum or wild Indian leaf 
The shadows of melodious utterance. 
But bare of laurel they live, dream, and die; 
~Keats



Evatt looked at Evelyn she sat up, her hair tousled and a bit nested in chaos.
She was still not fully awake; her eyes were still moving slowly up and down in a desperate bid for freedom from the grains of sleep.
She was dressed in what she had worn the day before; they both had fallen asleep whilst they talked late the night before.
She threw the overcoat off of herself with a violence that startled him from his aimless gazing.
"Evelyn, what is the matter?" He asked hurriedly, his voice thick and full of the night still.
"Nothing. That is what is wrong: nothing!" She cried back, the violence of her actions full in her voice. She no longer looked anything like she was tired or still caught on the flotsam of sleep's heavy tide.
"We are no closer to solving these crimes than the day before!"
"We don't know that's true." He protested mildy. "I think that we made some progress last night. "
"You did, did you?" Her voice this time not only contained suggested violence, it seemed to have dropped to a different level of danger.
Noticing this, but ignoring it for now, the Doctor  continued, "I think we are on the right track. I think that by finding the motive behind everything, we will solve much of this mystery."
"Your assurance is overwhelming Evatt. I feel much better."
He gazed quizzically at her, a question slanted in the quirk of his eyes.
"Well, I do. I was sarcastic, but I still meant it."
She got up and walked over to him, and they stood before the small window overlooking the street.
It was not completely light yet, but the darkness was receding before the onslaught of the dawn.
"Evatt, it's the next day...."
He just shook his head wonderingly.
"Something is going to happen or has happened already." She shivered.
"Cold?" He asked, concern in his voice.
"No," She answered puzzlement in her voice. "Evatt, I think it is a little warmer today."
"Is it? I hadn't noticed anything."
"I wonder if that means something." She shrugged and changed the subject.
"Evatt, what did you mean that Garden might know something about what has happened?"
"I think.....that perhaps there is more to this all than meets the eye, and that hidden within these messages of warning, there might be something that pertains to Garden Herself."
"What do you mean?" Her voice was dangerous again.

Simon woke slowly himself that morning.
He had left Robinson last night and gone walking around Garden by himself.  He had much to think about.
**I wonder what I am to do next. All of my original plans seem thwarted.*** He laughed, and in the outer darkness, he almost heard an echoing laugh.
"Who's there?" He called, but there was only silence for answer.
Suddenly, there was  a flaring of light to his side. He turned slowly, expecting to see the Inspector light his cigarette, and smiling sardonically.
Instead, it a small, flickering light far in the distance. He wondered at that; the fire must be much bigger at its source.
He hurried forward, towards the source of the light.
It did not grow very much in the first couple minutes, it just flickered hazily as if to beckon him on.
It did start to grow though finally, and how it grew.
By the time he got close enough to realize what it was, he running full tilt.
There was a fire in the arboretum, the glass panels transporting whatever flames there were inside, into feiry chaotic fingers, all reaching and clutching to get out of the center dome.
The door was open, and he hesitated only a moment.
He plunged in, the smoke practically nonexistant. He ran one circle, then another. The inroads were getting smaller as he got closer and closer to the center. Though it seemed to take him a century to make a complete pass, he was sure it could not be that long.
When he reached the center, he skidded to a halt.
The tree was burning.
Flames licked hungrily at the base and strove to get higher. There was a roaring noise to accompany the visuals of orange and brown. There was searing and popping as the fruit boiled and baked in the heat.
He just stood there just watching, unable to move or take his eyes off the scene.
There burst a scent so strong in front of him, he nearly fell to his knees in almost agony of the deliciousness of it.
The green of the tree slowly started to turn brown from the extreme heat on the outer edges, and the center of the flames started to emit a crackling sound of heating and burning.
Though he felt as if he had run here and stayed watching for many hours, he noticed the tree wasn't actually growing in flames, instead they just gathered and bunched, in their throes of ecstacy to burn the timber.
He also noticed that though the flames were burning the tree and the green leaves, there was no smoke to accompany the inferno.

Then, a voice spoke from the flames.

I am hidden behind these flames, manling. Best you not see me now. Best for me and best for you I mean.
I see the end you know, it is all here, written in pages that I flip, and ages that I live.
Flames that eat and devour are here, what are you going to do to help?
I see you strain and fight, but the end is the same and near.
Watch, see your salvation....and your doom.
Watch....
Watch....

Water burst suddenly from the panels of glass around the tree. A sudden downpour and deluge of liquid that cascaded around the tree.
The overwhelming tide struggled with the flames for hardly but a moment before engulfing them and drowning them.
Simon breathed a sigh of relief, for the danger for the tree was past.
The water continued though, the level in the dome now equal to the base of the tree. It continued to grow even and in a mere moment, it was more than covering the feet of Simon.
After a moment, he saw that it had risen to his knees.
The deluge had even gotten stronger, the water breaking through more panes and panels and outpouring into the Dome, filling it like a teacup.
See, I do help you.
The same voice had spoken again, the volume filling the dome and reverberating around in the decreasing volume.
The water level was over Simon's head, but still he didn't struggle or flail. He just lay in the moving water, letting it pull and push him any which way. He was human jetsam, but he didn't care; he couldn't move.
The level was nearly to the top of the dome by now, and he thought of the Dome bursting and flooding Garden.
It pained him beyond anything and he screamed in pain. That sound almost seeming as if he couldn't hear it over the sound of rushing water.
The measure of it all, what had happened and would happen again struck him. Tomorrow another crime...and another victory.
The water burst through the Dome, there was the sound of an explosion and suddenly the water level began to drop.
He fell with it, no more tumbling but instead a smooth fall as if through air. He landed with a small bump on solid ground.
Simon blinked and looked about him.
He realized the truth of it now, a vision had come upon him while he walked through the Garden's shadows. It was a sobering realization, the helplessness of it all, the futility of the slippery slope, only to find none of it had been real.
 He had gone back to his small flat then and had sat in the darkness thinking and smoking. Small bits of ash scattered themselves around him, tendrils of smoke curled around his head. He felt as if this was fitting and kept on smoking.
He did smoke very fast, it was a slow, thoughtful process for him.
He would draw one out, with his other hand grabbing a couple matches. Then he would slowly put the cigarette up to his lips and slide it out of his fingers. He would then bring up his hand slowly and snap his middle finger and thumb together while holding the pair of matches. They would strike and spark, and after this, he would stare for a brief moment at the small flame.
He would put it up to his lip held cigarette then and draw it while it lit.
The tip would change colour, from black to gray and then orange as it burned.
The smouldering tip would illuminate his face for a moment now and then, most of the time it was in deep relief.
When he was done and had smoke for a while, thinking and musing, he laid himself down on his bed fully clothed. He laid his head on his small pillow to rest, and perchance to dream.

That is how he slowly awoke  the next day, laying on his bed fully clothed and very tired. He sat up and wondered how early it was.
There was not much of a window facing the East, it rather faced a little more to the North,  but he thought he could just catch of glimpse of shadows created by the rising sun.
Rising quickly, his feeble mind protesting at every step, showered, dressed warmly and went out.
He might have guessed wrong as to how to dress, he thought to himself drily.
The temperature was much warmer than yesterday, though he could not see any of the promised sun. Instead, there were roiling clouds across the heavens and a low, dense fog already rolling in.
He muttered a silent oath and took off his jacket as he walked.
He headed toward the Arboretium, his pace measured and sure.
The vision last night had unnerved him slightly; with the next day of creation today, he had wondered if the vision was prophetic in any way.
He had already cursed himself for a fool for paying attention to his slight ravings, but he couldn't shake the feeling that some part of the dream had been mirrored in reality.
So much so in fact, as he got closer to the Dome, his breathing grew a little laboured and he found himself walking faster, his fists clenching and unclenching in tune to his stride.
When the Dome was fully in view, he breathed a sigh of relief. It was complete, intact and appeared wholly peaceful in its hermitage.
The area around it was not however.
A woman was outside, about to walk inside.
Briefly wondering who it was, Simon shouted his hello across the small glade.
The woman stiffened, and almost looked poised for flight in her surprise as she looked for the source of the noise.
Making himself as known was possible, Simon hurried across the empty space.
"Hello." He said approaching her.
"Hello. You must be, at a guess, Simon Temple?"
Her voice was pitched low and intimately, and he copied her tone as he answered.
"I am, how did you know?"
She was a young woman, and now that Simon stood nearer to her; he saw she was very beautiful. She was dressed in a slacks and a soft woolen shirt the colour of cream.
"I was told what you looked like. What are you doing here this time of morning?" Her gaze was direct, but not confrontational in its cool measuring.
Simon found himself liking this chance meeting more and more.
"You might laugh at me." He warned, a small smile creasing his face.
"I might, though you might run that risk with anythig you say or do." She quirked her own small smile at him in return.
"That.....is true." He almost stammered and then laughed.
"I had a dream last night. About this Dome, about the Tree inside. It was....burning." Now that he was here, in the morn, away from the gloom of the night, he felt himself a little ridiculous for his fears.
"Did you really? That is very...interesting." Her tone was a little more interested than he expected, so he continued.
"It felt....as if I should come here this morning and...." He stopped, at a loss to explain how waking had felt to him.
He had woken with but one thing on his mind: the visuals of the night before, the Tree with flames all around it, but not burning, The flood of the Tree, but that not as a saving grace.
He thought of the flood then, the whelming flood that did not save. He thought of the Tree, burning, being put to death, but not saved by the soporific water.
"I needed to see the Tree this morning." He finished simply.
"Have you had other dreams? Any waking visions?" She asked, this time her tone of voice obviously interested and excited.
"Well, the dream last night was not while I was asleep....It was while I was walking through the City."
"That's even better!" She cried. "I myself have had something like this happen a couple times."
She paused to think, her hands unconsciously rubbing together in excitement.
"I think the Tree is emits hallucinagenic pollen!"
A silence from both of them greeted her words. Simon just stared in wonder at this woman he had never met.
"Miss...Who are you? What's your name?" He broke the awkward silence, inquiring gently.
"Marie, my name is Marie."
"Marie, that is a strange thing you said...About the Tree and visions I mean." He almost stammered again, and he cursed inwardly.
"Strange how? We are currently standing outside of a Arboretium which houses a Tree whose fruit can extend your life a hundred years. The Arboretium is inside a City that has almost no social problems, a lack of poor or homeless and no crime until six days ago. What part of what I just said is the most strange?" She smiled when she finished.
Then she said unexpectedly, "Come, I need to get samples." She motioned him to follow her inside.
They walked together, side by side, down the twisting strand of a path.
"Are these samples something to do with your theory?" He asked as they walked.
"Yes...and no. I am here researching the Tree,  but that is something I merely was thinking as a byproduct. I am actually studying the Tree from a merely biological viewpoint."
He didn't say anything and after another moment of silence, she continued. "I want more of these Trees in the world, and for that, I need to discover why this one is sterile."
"It's sterile? I had wondered why there was only one here."
"Not just here. This is the only one in existance that I know of, and it's a very closely guarded secret."
"How long have you been studying it?"  He asked, changing the subject.
"Only for about a week. I started with some samples of the dirt and analys of the root structure. I then branched out to the fruit and pollen. I am going to get leaf and fruit samples now."
"I thought you already studied the fruit?"  He asked smiling.
"I did. The problem is, my studies take longer than the fruit stays fresh....I also tend to eat most of it before I have the chance to test it." She smiled.
He laughed and they walked on.

There was no laughing, no happiness in this place. Neither smiled, neither could think of any emotion save one akin to deep sadness and fear.
There was no courage, or it seemed much life in this place. There were no small moments of chaos and life as a breeze would tumble lazily around, interacting with all.
The center of the Dome was the same as ever. There was the tree, there were the leaves, on the tree and the ones that had fallen, brown in their death.
The Tree was different than it had been, each of them saw and compared with their idyllic memories of this place.
The tree, no one solid color of life, now lay in spreading spectrum of the colors of decay and rot. The leaves, not a healthy brown of aging gracefully and deciduation, rather the black of forced death and inside rot.
Marie made a slight noise, almost the sound of a catch in her throat. Her hands were again clutching and unclutching nothing at her side.
Simon, tearing his gaze away, looked at her and felt even more sadness threaten. He put on hand up to her shoulder and gently held it there, offering what comfort he could silently and with a touch.
After a while, after he felt like an appropriate time had passed, he asked carefully, "Why?"
She just shook her head and didn't answer.
"Do you think this is this the sixth day's work of uncreation?" He asked, again after a while.
"No." The surety of her tone was a surprise to him, as well as the answer.
"This has nothing to do directly with the sixth day in particular I'm sure."
She turned to look at him, and when he still looked confused, she went on.
 "...And God made the expanse and separated the waters that were under the expanse from waters that were above the expanse. And it was so. And God called the expanse Heaven. And there was evening and there was morning, the second day."

Then, suddenly, it was all clear to him. He had dreamed of it last night, hadn't he?
He bolted from the grove without saying anything, his passing only as more of an absence of life now from the grove.
Marie called after him, but he was already gone.

He ran as he not run for quite a long time. His strides had settled into a nice rhythm and he felt like he could run for quite a while.
He wished it were colder, frozen actually.
His memory, the one he had thought of before bolting from Marie, came back to him then.
***It was no longer freezing outside, all the snow would melt, all the ice and there could be the potentical for flooding: all the waters could joined today in a vast uncreation of the dividing of the waters. ***
That's why he had bolted. He was making his way to the IT Tower as fast as he could.
He didn't even know what he was going to do when he got there.
He suddenly saw himself, as if from a great distance away and high in the sky.  He watched as he ran, seeming to cover little ground from so high a vantage. He could almost see his dream overlap to his reality now. He couldn't seem to cover enough ground fast enough, it was if he was standing still. The Tree, the City still burned and there was to be a devestating flood. It would calm the hurt, but in such a way as to not heal. He almost could see, from his vantage point, the IT Tower, crumbling and blackenend as flames sprang up all around.
He sped up even more.  He was about halfway there. He cursed, aloud this time and fluently in his eloquence.
A minute later he had arrived.  He came panting to a halt, right in front of the door. Without bothering to knock, he entered and started to yell for Turners at the same time.
"TURNERS!" He cried a number of times, before he heard any kind of response.
"What!...What is it?" Turners cried from high above, his face peering down from the scaffolding.
That's when it happened.
Simon could only point towards the sound. "That! Turn off the water mains! Now man!"
It started as a series of pops and then a much bigger sound: the sound of an explosion nearby. Then they heard another and another, and more following in their wake. It sounded like the City was being shelled.


The Doctor and Eve stood in the doorway and wondered, together and separately, what they were doing here.
They had discussed much the past morning.
***An interruption had come as the explosions had rocked Garden and his lab. After detonations had subsided and they had checked the damage done, the two of them had gone back to his lab, walking through the water that now bogged the City's streets.
"I think that if we search through Garden's past, we might find something." The Doctor said, his voice and bearing tired.
"Who would do that for us?" Eve replied, just as tiredly. "Who would know enough to seek out the right information? I think it might be interesting and fruitful, but more than somewhat out of reach right now."
The Doctor stopped in his tracks and Eve walked on, stopping after a second when she noticed he had stopped.
"What is it?" She asked.
"Seth would do it."
She shook her head. "What? The previously lone policeman of Garden?" She laughed a little and made a disparaging sound of her displeasure.
"He has been here almost since the beginning. He might remember anything of that. He also has an extensive private collection of books in his library."
Her eyes grew a little wider as she listened.
"He also  is, as you said, the policeman of Garden."
"True, but what good will come of this? We only have one day left, and we would rely on Seth, the only policeman of a crimeless City?"
Evatt nodded. ********
That had had that discussion on the way to the Yard. Now they stood in the doorway and wondered what they were doing.
They looked at each other one more time; the Doctor's face flinty and slightly twisted with emotion, while Eve's was hard and emotionless.
Then they walked in and closed the door behind them.
Seth was at his desk, reading from a dossier. When he heard the door close, he looked up.
"Eve...Doctor." He nodded at them, then said as if remembering something, "Oh, I wanted to talk to you." He nodded at the Doctor.
"And....we wanted to talk to you." Eve said, her voice flat. "About Garden and about the tree."
He just stared at them, the import of their tones not lost him.