Part 1
A drop of water hit the surface of the aluminum gutter every 84 seconds. The periodic sound did not disturb anyone present - the scientists gathered in the greenhouse, led by Riley, had long since lost their sensitivity to ordinary human stimuli.
The steady light of ultraviolet lamps tried in vain to awaken at least a semblance of life in thin sprouts. Neither the real sun nor the local electric one was able to turn seeds into strong plants that could bear fruit under new conditions. Neither experiments with radioactive salts, nor special fertilizers, nor genome modifications helped - nothing. The lifeless Wastes killed the seedlings over and over again, but the Children of Dawn's resolve could not be shaken.
“This attempt also failed, colleagues,” one of the scientists said, gesturing to the puny sprouts.
- Continue to work. Sooner or later we will succeed. Riley’s voiceless voice, calm through the distortion of the microphone, instilled confidence.
No one needed more emotional support here, and Riley was waiting for a job in engineering.
The senior researcher's finger was already on the elevator call button when the transmitter woke up in the suit:
- Aristeus has crossed the inner contour and is approaching the station. He asked for a tete-a-tete meeting immediately upon arrival, the messenger reported.
- Is he alone?
- Yes. Send him to you?
- Yes.
- I understand you, I am passing it on.
The tradition of calling private sections cabins was present even in large complexes. This word suited the best - small rooms that combined sleeping places, workrooms and warehouses, were not much different from each other and more closely resembled cabins.
Crossing the threshold of the darkened room, Aristeus greeted Riley with a nod and sank noisily into a chair. In the folds of his frayed overalls, the dust of the unwashed earth darkened.
“Haven't seen each other for a long time, Riley,” Aristeus greeted hoarsely. His booming voice instantly filled the cabin and seemed to breathe life into it.
- For a long time, Aristeus. Your request for an immediate meeting is troubling. What happened?
Riley had no doubt that something had happened. Aristeus would not have left his post without a serious reason - the scientist's instinct, which over and over again carried him into the Wasteland, was almost impossible to drown out.
“Bad luck,” Aristeus said quietly, removing his travel bag from his shoulder and carefully taking out a thick waterproof folder. He held it out to Riley, leaned back more comfortably in his chair and sighed heavily.
- What is it?
- Everything that I have managed to collect over the past two months. Indicators of soil changes, composition of precipitation - everything.
Riley's gloved fingers traced the sturdy seam.
Something was wrong.
- The next meeting should be in two months. Why did you decide to come now?
Aristeus did not answer immediately. For a while, he simply sat with his hands clasped in the lock, and the mirrored glass of his helmet reflected Riley's nearly identical jumpsuit.
- Because ... - Aristeus sighed and straightened his back, straightened his shoulders. - There will be no next meeting.