The Tag Bearer

Chapter 20 - A Plan is Hatched

After wandering aimlessly through the halls, unsure of exactly where I was going and in desperate need of some productive quietness, I found myself in the city's private sector library just outside the main glasshouse dome. I guess the scenery provided a calming and relaxing environment to the professors that used the library. However, it was Sunday today and the library was bare of human interaction, a perfect situation for anyone wanting some peace and quiet.

A rectangular window aligned one side of the library showing way to the forest growing out in front of me. Ferns crawled out across the expanse and covered the roots of the trees. A squirrel scampered up a trunk every now and then, and the birds chirped in excitement as the daily artificial rains were spouted out from the jets and sprinklers. 

I turned from the sight to face the library's layout. A large array of leather-bound books filled themselves high up on the shelves. Dull greens, deep reds and monotonous blues stared at me from the ceiling. I was enclosed in an exclusive library of knowledge that only Sergeant Hills most notable scholars had access too.

The library's caretaker sat some metres away from me at a small oak desk, his nose buried beneath a stack of ornamented books and scrolls. His long wispy beard brushed the dust off the surface of the desk occasionally, and his yellowed robe was close to tatters as he tried not to burn his sleeve on a little candlestick to his right. His glasses often slid off the bridge of his nose and he grunted in annoyance as he aggressively pushed them back up his face and into place.

The library itself was eerily quiet. Not even a breeze sweep through the neatly aligned rows of books as I searched for the label the caretaker had shorthanded onto a piece of paper.

SMI 581.467," I mumbled aloud. I peered at the small numbers, pacing up and down the aisles until I spotted it. "SMI. SMI. Ah! 581.467!"

I pulled out the heavy book and half dropped it onto the ground. It was a beautiful deep maroon colour and had little golden embellishments along the border. A golden orchid sat in the middle, with a description of the book underneath.

"Botany – Seeds, flower and plant identification," I read aloud. I pulled a face, glad for once I had something relaxing to do. Scanning through the pages would take my mind off the events of this morning's proceedings and I was happy that a distraction had come my way.

In my stale cell environment, there was nothing to do but mourn over my predicament and anywhere else just felt invasive. At least here there was some serenity.

A slight breeze swept through the shelves and made me shiver. I pulled up my coat tighter over my shoulders and brushed a stray strand of hair behind my ears. Blowing on the cover of the book, I opened it to the first page.

Inside was a world lost years before the war when coal was still the main extraction of household energy. When the coal plants failed, electricity ceased to exist to the modern man, plunging the world back into a state of stone-age darkness. I sighed, remembering the memory in vain. 

With each turn of the page, six detailed biotomies filled the open page. Coloured sketches of flowers and its associated leaves were artfully painted across the book's interior. Diagrams of the leaf shapes and pouts of hues caught my attention, but it was always the beauty of the flowers that stunned me most.

An array of pink, blue, yellow and red swept me away to a time when botanical gardens and picnics were an afternoon summer delight. It was funny, I always thought how many people took the environment for granted. My father was a plant enthusiast himself and had raised me on growing my own food. On our outings, he liked to tease me into playing a game with him. We would always do something I liked, and it usually involved me pointing at a flower and him cupping it in his hands and telling a five-year-old me what you could with it. Sometimes he would rub it between his hands and make soap, other times he would eat it. Those ones always tasted sweet and I liked them a lot, but my absolute favourite was the one he made a snake whistle from.

I flicked through the book, excited that maybe the plant was in this intricate piece of work, when something caught my eye; making me pause and gaze over the page. 

A tall limb splayed itself up the page. It was painted with tiny, yet perfectly coloured deep blue flowers. It was as though someone had grabbed a bunch of daisies, glued them together and dyed them blue. The colour was magnificent and jumped across the page in a bright blur.

I smiled and gingerly swept the painted stem with my index finger.

"L-lu-larkspur?" I said to the book more than myself. "I've never heard of you before. Where do you come from?"

I scanned its information. Fremder Rittersporn, otherwise known as the Violet Larkspur, was first found in Turkey. A sample was brought over in the mid 1800's with explorers and was culminated in a greenhouse. Today it can be found in a seed freezing plantation in Eastern Virginia. I read further down the page, until a plan formed itself and planted itself deep into my mind.

"You're poisonous huh? Young plants and seeds especially. Can cause muscle spasms and eventually leads to paralysis and death. I think you've just given me the key to killing you...Sergeant," I said to myself, a smirk composing on my lips.

Realizing I had spoken aloud, I quickly glanced around the shelves. My smirk transformed into a smile as I confirmed that no one had heard me. I now had a plan.

Swiftly I got up and raced through the maze of books straight past the caretaker. I scooted past him and stopped just past his desk, skidding to a halt. Perhaps he knew if the facility was still there?

I swivelled around and slid up to his desk; clearing my throat.

"Excuse me," I said.

No response.

"Excuse me sir!" I said, this time louder.

He looked up from his scrolls and loose bits of paper. His eyes were an icy dull grey and they bore an uncomfortable feeling as they stared into mine.

"Yes?" he said.

I smiled, trying to be polite. "Is the Virginian seed freezing station still standing?"

He seemed to ponder the question for a minute before speaking. "The researchers looted that place last month. All the seeds from there are now under the main domes arbitrary, under strict surveillance 24/7."

I beamed at him. "Thank you, sir!"

This was going to be a job for Matthew and Bryce. Now all I had to do was convince them to join me.

"No running!" he yelled after me.

"Sorry," I murmured a grin returning across my face as I sped-walked out of the library and towards the guard's dorms.