Intentionality Read Free Page A

the other Seeders, but Lily decided that we both needed some together time, so we collected our lunch order and went down to my favourite level.
    The botanical gardens are a vision of enchantment plucked from a fairy story. The Monos have been able to cultivate seedlings from the surface. How they have done this with only their present knowledge, I don’t know. Some have old rescued texts from before the Evo-shift. Maybe these help, or I suppose there is a possibility that they have continued to pass on knowledge of plant life through the conventional method of communicating with one another. There is also the chance that they are using a little known skill; trial and error!
    Of course as with everything they do, they are expected to share with us because we are seen as their saviours. It’s quite ironic really, as I don’t imagine for one minute we would ever be able to survive down here without them. We are but tadpoles to their frogs at the moment. I know my destiny is to be a communicator but I haven’t the first idea how to do this yet. Until my Evo-gene has actually matured it’s like a gloriously extravagant gift, which remains in its wrapper.
    The botanical gardens are kept at a warm, comfortable, welcoming temperature. The one that creeps onto your skin minutes after getting into bed; just after the quilt has moulded itself to your form. The fragrances are sweet like your favourite dessert but also musky in places where the soil is kept continually damp. The greenery that surrounds us down here is of course nothing we have ever experienced for real. We are used only to the feel of cold plastic and smooth metal, the smell of clean surfaces, and the feel of the same ambient temperature night and day on our skin. We are synthetically regimented into twelve hours of being awake and twelve of rest or sleep, so that when we ascend we are already suited to the living timetable on the surface. This of course is maintained by the dimming of lights, rather than the physical movement of the earth around the sun! The rest of our senses are nurtured only for necessity, to enhance our Evo-gene. Spontaneity would, I feel, shock us into an early grave. I shudder to think how my body would cope if the temperature control were to malfunction for more than the hour it takes to carry out the routine reboot and upgrade once a month.
    So here in this haven, we are accosted by the aromas, sights and textures that I can only guess all humans were exposed to before the Evo-shift. I am jealous beyond belief and can’t wait to savour and cherish the experiences of the surface. We have lived in no other way at the moment, so it’s not like I am mourning what I once had. It’s just I feel it in my heart, almost like a distant memory that this natural green environment is where I should be. This is home.
    My favourite smell is the vanilla orchid. It has a comforting aroma because it is used in so many of my favourite indulgences in the canteen. However I also adore the way that it winds itself around the form of another plant, using it for stability but in turn sharing its beauty. Each plant benefits somehow from the other, never taking too much. It gives me confidence in our system. That the model we are given, regarding our lives on the surface is actually attainable, because it is a model that is naturally occurring.
    Eden placed us down here under the Polar Ocean.
    â€œAway from contamination and out of harm’s way,” she declared.
    â€œFree to develop without deviants and unauthorised influences.”
    This was her answer to the first mutiny, as a result of the Acers being separated from the Monos. Inevitably families were divided. Some had survived through natural immunity and others had fought and won the war of the plague. They were not asked what they would like to do. They were conscripted for the cause. Some women were even pregnant and yet still ripped from the arms of their loved ones. This