Holy shit!!!
“Let me get this straight. You have greenhouses made ofQUARTZ?” I’m both hissing and whispering right now.
“We do not process glass. Better to use what naturally grows out of the earth.”
I’m still trying to wrap my head around the whole thing. When we step in, the humid, warm air hits us. It feels like spring here—which is typical in microclimate homes. The sprouts rise naturally from the ground next to what looks like a gravestone.
There are rows and rows of trees of varying species. One looks like a miniature pine tree, but instead of pines, it has pouches of little fruits. At closer inspection, it is anything but. The Terra “fetuses” are enclosed in what looks like a milky, closed pouch hanging from a branch like a fruit.
They are tucked so peacefully that it seems sacrilegious to breathe even a word.
I can’t read the etchings, but it’s Datu who does it for me.
“Jeku of Sikat, beloved provider, father of six sprouts.”
My mouth hangs open in horror. “W-what? Provider?”
“Do not look so terrified. It is the way of the Terra. The only way to pass on is to give life.”
I want to sit down and process for a moment, but Datu yanks me into his arms, hugging me out of my cognitive dissonance. What had I been expecting? That Terra just…get pregnant and pop out babies like mammals?
We are basically standing in a graveyard that is a nursery, too. The “greenhouse” is basically a uterus. How…morbid and yet it makes sense.
“Don’t you guys have another kind of incubator? To keep the babies safe for a period of time?”
“It is extinct. Trapped in amber for centuries.”
I have no idea what he just said. “Are you going to explain?”
“Do not think much of it. They pass on willingly.”He dismisses this.
“Is this why you guys have no males? Because they’re just dying?”
“I admit, the mortality rate of our sprouts have been very high. Most females survive while the males hatch but cannot last long…”There’s deep sadness in his tone, and it’s as if the babies hear him. They wiggle around in their little sacs, little hands reaching blindly.
Oh my god. It’s because of the drought. The male babies are too weak to withstand it, so they just…
“I’m so sorry, Datu.” I hug him tighter. This makes me all the more determined to help them. “Have you tried raising them in a controlled climate like this?”
He shakes his head. “A sheltered, cocooned life is a fate worse than death.”
His words slice something open in me, and I have to clench my body before I spill my guts out. All my life, I’ve been holding back. Stifling myself that I’m suffocating.
“Yes. Yes, it is.” I say it out of passion. Experience. Before letting him go, I squeeze him tight. “Don’t worry, we’ll figure it out. Pinky promise.” I hold up my pinky, hoping he understands.
Datu curls his around mine and bites my knuckles.“I will hold on to that.”Our fingers tangle together as we stroll through the nursery.
What bothers me, though, I have not seen Terra children, so I ask him.
“Esoterra compensates. There are very few males and we are birthing males who die when they are barely a year old.”
I look at all the sprouts, a heaviness settling in my heart. “These are all males?”
He nods, so I straighten my back. “They will live. I will make sure of it.” I feel it, a certainty racing through my veins. It’s as if I’d just realized my purpose. My calling. This is it. This is what those dreams were for.
“How long until they…open?”
“Hatch,”he corrects me.“They do not hatch at once.”Datu’s eyes shift toward the entrance of the nursery. Somebody is inside with us.
