A Gardener's Touch

Sometime later he woke up lying on his stomach on his bed in his cottage. The room was quiet but he could hear someone breathing close by. He turned his head and saw Gwendolyn sitting in a chair near the head of his bed.

"You're awake! You gave us quite the fright!" she said.

"What happened?" he mumbled.

"The young mistress of the estate took it into her head to strike you across your back with some kind of gardening tool with a jagged blade. You'll have another nasty scar to add to your collection," she said as she examined the stitches holding the new wound closed. The doctor Madam Daniels brought in to sew him up was as good as she was discrete. "You aren't to move for a couple of days to let the wound close properly."

"Why?" he asked.

"To help it heal, silly!" she chided him.

"No, why did... she do it?" he rumbled.

"Oh! Sorry. We have no idea. The poor girl is not quite straight in the head. Her mother never wanted children and wants nothing to do with her so she acts out. But becoming violent against others is new territory. Most of the time she just hurts herself." She looked sad as she considered how troubled the young woman was.

"May I talk... with her?" he asked.

"Uh... I will see your request is passed up to Madam Daniels," Gwendolyn replied uneasily. Changing the subject to a more comfortable topic she pointed to a tray of food. "I brought you some dinner. You slept through lunch I'm afraid."

Grenville pushed himself up to a seated position much to Gwendolyn's protest. He sat on the edge of the bed and took the tray on his lap. There were some sandwiches and some cheese and fruit. She sat in her chair and watched him eat. She also watched the play of the muscles in his chest and how the scars rippled as he moved.

He washed the food down with a bottle of water and sighed contentedly with a full belly.

"Thank you!" he said to the blushing woman. "May I ask... you a question?"

"Yes."

"Do you know... what Margarita did... with me this... morning?" he asked. He'd overheard them gossiping about their love lives once before so he assumed she did.

Gwendolyn's blush became even more pronounced. "Yes, she mentioned it."

"Why did she... do that? Is... she in love... with me?" he asked, his confusion was very easy to see.

Gwendolyn's face looked pained. "Do you love her?"

"No. Afterwards I... remembered I heard... that she has... a boyfriend?" he said looking guilty.

"That's not for you to feel guilty about. Margarita knew better but she just wanted to have some fun with you. It's not my place to judge how she and her boyfriend live their lives but honestly those two need to straighten out their affairs, pardon the pun," she chided.

Grenville gave a mighty yawn and blinked sleepily. Gwendolyn smiled and took the tray from his lap. She set it on her chair and helped Grenville lie back down. When he was back on his stomach she examined the stitches to see if he'd pulled any. She was pleased to see that his cuts were looking like they were already beginning to heal. The longest ones had two stitches to keep the flesh together. Even they looked pink and healthy. She looked back to his face but he was fast asleep.

Gwendolyn watched his sleeping face and realized that she was feeling more protective than attracted to the big man. It was his innocence that triggered it in her. She sighed. She'd keep that breakfast appointment but now it was only to protect him from the predations of the other ladies in the kitchen.

Two days later Grenville was sitting cross legged on the ground under a tree next to the cottage. The noon sun was hot but the gentle breeze made it quite comfortable in the shade. He heard the buzz of an approaching electric cart. He looked up to see it was Kayleen driving AnnaZelle towards his cottage. He stood up and brushed himself off. The cart stopped next to him and Kayleen looked up at him.

"I understand you've asked to speak with my daughter," she said.

Grenville nodded.

"She's all yours." She turned to face the young woman. "Get out."

Annazelle stared at her mother in shock then stumbled out of the other side of the cart. No sooner was she out than her mother started the cart on its way back to the main house.

The young woman looked up at the big man and trembled. "You can't touch me! You're only a worker!" she blurted nervously.

"I wouldn't," was all he said.

"What do you want?" she grated out.

"I wanted to... apologize," he said quietly.

"What?" AnnaZelle said, confused.

"I almost hit... you. My combat... training. I'm sorry," he said with a bowed head.

"Combat training? I thought you were a gardener!" AnnaZelle said quietly.

"Before I was... a gardener I... was a soldier... for 13 years," he explained.

"That's how you got those scars?" she asked.

"Yes. Except for... the new one," he smiled gently.

She scowled at him but stopped when she saw his smile. "You're weird."

"I was wondering... why you hit... me?" he asked.

Her face went red and she looked like she might explode again.

"It's OK if... you can't tell... me," he said making placating gestures with his hands.

She struggled to control her anger and just managed to do it. "You pissed me off when I saw all your scars. I had some ritual scarring done to me and now I see how childish that was."

"None of my... scars were intentional... To ask for... it to be... done, to sit... through the process... must have taken... a lot of... nerve!" Grenville said softly.

AnnaZelle glared at him, looking for ridicule and scorn but his face was open and honest. She realized that his scars and hers really were different and this huge, powerful man was impressed with her. She looked in his eyes and saw only admiration and acceptance there. Something inside her popped and tears came to her eyes. She wasn't even aware they were pouring down her face. When she collapsed to her knees Grenville was on his knees in front of her. When she burst into fierce sobs, he collected her in his arms up against his chest and she pressed her face into his soft shirt.

Grenville recalled the times in his childhood when he comforted the smaller kids who'd broke at the end of the day from the stresses of their training. He found it soothing to give someone a shoulder to cry on, to be protective and gentle. AnnaZelle was hurting and he could offer that at least.

She cried for a long time but when she came out of it AnnaZelle was dazed by the sense of relief she felt. She felt lighter, like a terrible weight had finally been removed from her chest. She found herself curled up on Grenville's lap and her mind was filled with a sense of calm and peace she couldn't recall ever feeling before. He said nothing and just held her gently in his strong arms. She looked down at his chest and saw she'd soaked his shirt with tears. She was mildly embarrassed by that but he showed no discomfort and didn't seem to mind.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"You're welcome," he whispered back.

He helped her to her feet and they moved to sit on the bench of the picnic table under the tree. They sat quietly for a while just listening to the wind rustle through the leaves above as they soaked in the warmth of the day.

"How did you become a soldier?" she asked.

"That's what the... orphanage selected for... me," he replied.

"You must not have been very good at it considering how scarred you are," she blurted. She immediately wished she could take the words back, thinking she may have hurt him. Instead she was surprised to see him grin at her comment.

"Yes, I was... injured a lot... But I'm alive... which was the... best outcome I... could hope for," he shrugged. He looked around. "I'm very lucky."

"I read your file. It said you were mentally retarded. Emotionally stunted. But you don't seem that way to me," AnnaZelle said quietly, examining the scars on his face.

"Sometimes that works... in my favor... and sometimes it... doesn't," he frowned, thinking of the Chuuruthians who'd been banned from the planet because the Security Agent wouldn't listen to him.

"What happened to make you speak that way?" she asked, curiosity making her bold.

"My last mission," he started but a sudden wave of grief for his team mates swelled over him, choking off his breath. He still struggled with his post-traumatic stress to this day. He closed his eyes to center himself and did his breathing exercises. When he regained control he looked at her concerned expression. "Sorry. My friends... all died in... that one. I... was left damaged... here." Grenville touched the side of his head where the chip had been. "Discipline chips were... hacked and overloaded... Killed everyone but... me."

"Fuck! That's awful!" she gasped.

"I prefer being... a gardener," he said quietly.

The distant sound of gravel crunching made him glance towards the driveway leading up to the main estate building. His cottage was discretely placed quite a distance from the mansion. But tucked to the side as it was he did get a view of the comings and goings. He saw a heavy military escort truck leading two black limousines with tiny flags on them up to the front door. Soldiers exited the truck and took stations around the vehicles. A military officer stepped out of the first limousine and walked up to the front door where he was met by the estate butler. They went inside.

AnnaZelle saw where his gaze was drawn and looked herself. "Ah. Another reason the Witch wanted me out of the house."

"You don't like... your Mother very... much," he said turning back to her.

She snorted. "The woman is evil. There isn't a shred of human compassion or decency in her. She doesn't deserve the name 'Mother'."

"Then she doesn't... deserve your time," Grenville stated gently.

AnnaZelle stared at him, her mind ticking over his words.

The officer returned to his car and Grenville saw Madam Daniels descend the steps and walk over to the small electric cart by the side of the mansion. She got in and drove towards the cottage. The line of vehicles followed her.

Grenville stood and walked closer to the lane. He stood in place and waited. AnnaZelle came over to stand by his side. She could tell the big man was nervous.

Kayleen stopped in front of him and glared at him briefly before turning her eyes towards her daughter. It was too late to send her away. The truck pulled up, went past the cart and stopped. Soldiers got out and, again, took up stations. They eyed the big man with caution but made no move towards him.

Once the cars had stopped the officer got out once more and walked to Kayleen.

"Is this the man who worked as a groundskeeper in Capital Gardens?" he asked.

"Yes. I purchased his contract outright but he'd been working there for more than two years," she said stiffly. Grenville's nervousness increased.

The officer approached him. "I'm Major Skelly of the Judge Advocate General's office in Central City. You are..." he looked at his tablet, "...Groundskeeper Grenville McKree?"

One of the doors on the second limousine opened and the officer looked back sharply. Before anyone could move a small figure stepped out of the car and turned to face Grenville who gasped sharply.

A Chuuruthian!

"Diplomat Chenn! Please get back into the vehicle," the Major barked.

"Please! Let me speak with him!" the Chuuruthian pleaded.

"Cha nura la... neela Samidah, Chenn!" Grenville addressed to the diplomat.

The officer's head whipped around to face Grenville.

The Chuuruthian's eyes lit up and it bowed deeply towards the big man who returned the bow as deeply.

"What did you say?" Skelly barked at Grenville.

"A traditional Chuuruthian... greeting of respect... and good will," he replied quietly.

Kayleen was glaring murderously at Grenville and his mouth went dry.

"And how do you know that language?" the Major growled.

"I spent much... time healing in... multiple Chuuruthian field... hospitals," he replied meekly.

"I'll confirm that story shortly. But first, we're here today to ask about your involvement in the events surrounding the discovery of the evidence of prohibited flora in the Chuuruthian Embassy and the Chuuruthian theft of the contaminated flora from Capital Gardens which led to their expulsion from Earth."

"The Chuuruthian's didn't... steal the contaminated... flowers from Capital... Gardens," Grenville said firmly.

"The Security Officer's report indicated that it was clearly the Chuuruthian's," Skelly retorted.

"They don't wear... shoes," Grenville said.

"What?!?" The Major's voice was growing louder with each outburst.

"The tracks in... the soil of... the flower bed... were all clearly... made by wide... boots, worn by... really heavy thieves... Chuuruthian's are light... and don't wear... shoes of any... kind. It is... not their way," Grenville ground out. It was the longest speech he'd made in a long time and his brain hurt from the effort.

The Chuuruthian was still staring at him with bright eyes. The tips of its tall ears were vibrating in excitement causing the tiny earrings to chime musically.

"Why didn't you present this information to the Security Agent at the time?" Skelly growled.

"I tried but... he wouldn't listen," Grenville admitted.

"The flowers! Were they really all destroyed?" the diplomat blurted.

Grenville knew to admit he hadn't destroyed all of the prohibited plants after being ordered to would be risking everything. Probably imprisonment as well.

"Diplomat Chenn! I am asking you for the last time to get back into the car and stop interfering. Any further interactions with my witness and I will terminate the investigation."

"Please no! My people will die without the cure!" the Diplomat wailed.

Grenville looked to Kayleen and saw she was NOT happy about being dragged into this diplomatic mess. She saw no positive spin for herself and she was certainly pissed about him being involved. That was plain from her expression.

AnnaZelle was obviously enthralled by the Chuuruthian diplomat. They were a very beautiful race so he wasn't too surprised. When she turn back to look at him he was surprised to see the depths of her empathy for the alien being. That was good to see.

He looked into the pleading eyes of Chenn and recalled how many times he'd been patched back together by skilled Chuuruthian surgeons. The life he had now was possible because of Chenn's people. He sighed.

"No. I kept... one," he said quietly.

"One?" the Diplomat braced himself against the car, Grenville wasn't sure if it was relief or dismay that had shaken him.

Major Skelly walked right up to Grenville and looked up into his face. "You ignored a direct order from an Earth Security Council Officer? Are you aware of the consequences of your actions?"

Grenville looked at his feet. "The Security Council... Officer was wrong... about the Chuuruthians... He was wrong... about the plants... too. I could... only save one."

"Where is it?" the Officer said grimly.

"It was dying..." the Diplomat made a small groan when it heard this "but I studied... it and determined... the original species... of alien plant... To preserve it's... genes I crossbred... it with a... species of orchid." He looked at the Chuuruthian and bowed his head. "May I show... you?" Grenville looked at the Major who nodded briefly.

Grenville walked back to the door of the long greenhouse and the Chuuruthian followed close behind. They were followed by the Major, Kayleen who was wearing an angry scowl, AnnaZelle, and two of the soldiers.

He led the group to the far end of the big room and pulled back the curtain he'd set up. The sun was pouring in through the glass and reflecting off of the petals of his Chella Orchids. He had twenty five of the plants now and they threw off the sunlight in dazzling bursts of reds and yellows.

Grenville looked back and saw everyone was stunned by what they saw. Even Kayleen had lost her angry look. She stepped forward with the Chuuruthian and the two gazed out over the long bench of dazzling flowers. The Diplomat took a careful sniff and staggered back. Grenville caught him easily in his big hands. The small alien looked dazed and made a chuffing sound to expel the scent from his sensitive nostrils.

"It's pure!" he exclaimed, staring up into the eyes of Grenville.

The big man nodded. "The origin species... comes from an... Allsa Komanae quarantined... world. They would... be the only... ones who had... access to the... plants." He looked at the Major.

"How could you possibly know that?" Skelly asked, his voice skeptical.

"My troop was... part of the... force requested by... the Allsa Komanae... to go to... that planet to... pacify a native... uprising. The result... was genocide," Grenville said in a subdued voice. "I remember the... cultivated fields of... fire flowers, like... these but not... as bright. We... were ordered to... kill everyone. The... Allsa Komanae administered... that world and... ordered a quarantine... once they had... the troops extracted."

Grenville sat heavily on a stool and held his throbbing head in his hands. He found it ironic than the only pain he felt acutely now came from a body part with no pain receptors.

"What's wrong?" AnnaZelle asked him.

"Talking hurts," was all he managed as he winced.

"One of those soldiers could have brought the plants from the planet. It wasn't necessarily the Allsa Komanae," Skelly argued, ignoring Grenville's pain.

The big man looked at the Major through pain filled eyes. He struggled to continue through the throbbing. "All troops went... through intensive decontamination... process. Stripped down... to skin, burned... off top layer... of that. We... carried NOTHING off... Allsa Komanae adminstrators... claimed planet had... dangerous spores which... caused natives to... go mad. But... I fought natives... They weren't mad... They were desperate." Grenville slumped forward, cradling his head in his hands.

AnnaZelle looked at Grenville's suffering and looked at her mother to see if she was going to intervene. She wasn't. For the first time, instead of erupting in fury AnnaZelle considered what might convince her mother it would be in her interests to get involved. There wasn't time to get elaborate. She'd have to wing it. Stepping next to her mother but keeping her eyes on Grenville she began to quickly whisper.

"There is a great opportunity here. Capital City is famous for its gardens. You are famous for creating the gardens. These flowers, grown in a Capital City garden could save the lives of an entire race of people. Think of the positive press THAT would generate! The Major will want the plants destroyed but having them shipped through the gate to another planet works as well. Gift them to the Chuuruthians!"

Kayleen considered her daughter in surprise. For the first time it felt like they were speaking the same language, like she'd finally connected with the young woman. She looked at the Major and the Diplomat and swirled the idea around in her mind. Then she spoke up for the first time. She put on her Mayor voice and spoke directly to the Major. "I believe you have the information you need. My groundskeeper has obviously reached the limits of his disability. Pushing him further would be a considerable risk to his health."

She turned to the Chuuruthian who still looked dazzled by the splendor of the flowers. "Diplomat Chenn, if these flowers can be used to find a cure for your people please accept them as a gift from Capitol City with our sincerest wishes for your success."

She turned back to the Major. "They will need to be packaged in quarantine travel containers to go through the gates but you shouldn't have any trouble, right Major Skelly?"