The Secret of Spring (8 page)

"Yes, Herb, you've made that completely clear. It's just that we've known each other for so many seasons, and if you don't know how you feel about me by this time, I don't see how another season will change that."

Herb could see that strong will beginning to surface again. "It's not the situation which must change, but me," he said. "And who can say? You may be the one to call it off. You may grow tired of waiting."

"I will wait, Herb. I believe the fault was mine that you felt you must transplant. I was raised to hoe a straight row. There are many wild flowers out there to tempt a man, and if you have wandered, I must accept my share of the blame." She sighed.

"No," Herb said uncertainly. "That was not the only reason."

"Then you admit it was a reason," Lily exclaimed, pouncing upon his lack of conviction.

"It was," he reluctantly admitted. Herb hated to think he was so shallow as to discard seasons of a good relationship simply on the basis of sexual frustration. "I always admired your strong principles. It proved to me that you were a nice girl."

An odd look came over Lily's face. Herb wondered what he could have said wrong now. After all, he had just paid her a compliment.

"You mean,"
she
pondered briefly, "if I didn't bed with you, then you knew I wasn't bedding others?"

She certainly had a way of getting to the root of the matter, Herb thought. "Yes, I guess go. That is what I meant." He was beginning to feel decidedly uncomfortable with the turn the conversation had taken.

"And, what if I had bedded another?" she asked softly.

Herb looked surprised. That notion had never crossed his mind. He had always assumed she was unsoiled. The arrogance of the male ego had dismissed any possibility that she might simply have preferred someone other than him.

"I see. Well, that makes no difference to our friendship now, Lily," he managed to say. He noticed that odd look was still on Lily's face.

"Oh," she said. "You forgive me?" Was the tone slightly sarcastic?

"No. I mean, yes. I mean, there is nothing to forgive." What was she trying to do?

That answer seemed to satisfy her at last. "Yes, Herb, that is so, for I have not bedded with any other."

That stripped away the last of his patience. "Then why the blight did you even bring it up?" he asked in exasperation.

"Because I know as a man you must have bedded others, if not before, then in your absence. It also makes no difference to me. But, I didn't know if that was an issue still between us. Now I see it is not. We can make a fresh start together."

She smiled possessively and squeezed his hand in hers. Herb began to see light dawn. It was her way of saying that she would overlook his past, but now expected fidelity since she was pledging hers. Smart girl.

"We can begin fresh," he agreed, acceding to their unspoken pact. Lily smiled up at him with a pleased expression. She had neatly won her case. He took both her hands in his and gave them a kiss. Lily was a good woman, and if she was willing to take him back and wait upon his decision, the least he could do was give their relationship every chance to flourish.

Herb did not stay long after their talk. Though her family was prosperous, she was a dedicated working girl who had to be at the Nursery early the next morning. Herb felt a bit drained from the emotional confrontation, and decided to make an early night of it himself.

He was soon home in his small apartment, stretched across his water bed, thumbing through the swimsuit issue of
Play Plant
magazinia
. The
photosynthegraphs
of scantily clad passionflowers leaped out at him from the scented pages. He almost regretted his promise to Lily. While not prone to hop from one flower bed to the next, he did regard himself as a normal young
Veganoid
. His
magazinias
were a far cry from the raunchy trash he had seen in the
polli
parlour
, but they still had lovely blossoms, and were not helping matters.

He flipped to the classified section instead, and browsed through the personals; the seed of answering one was growing in his mind. Why not? Responding to an ad would fill up a dull evening, and it wasn't as if he would actually meet the girl. Just writing a letter could hardly be considered disloyal to Lily, especially if she didn't know about it. It might be amusing to see what kind of reply he got.

Some of the ads were blatant, while others were obscure. He wanted to know something about whom he was contacting, but was put off by the aggressive ones. An ad near the end of the page at last caught his eye.

"Attractive, human Moon Maiden with botanical background seeks correspondence with interesting male. Species no obstacle. Object?"

A botany student? Herb thought girls in these
magazinias
were more interested in body than mind games. He was certain she had never studied his species of plant. Paradise was off the beaten path for vacationers, not without good reason. "Moon Maiden." He liked the sound of that. It was romantic, rather than sexy. "Object?" probably meant friendship, but the door was open for exploration. Herb decided he would answer this "Moon Maiden." Anything to relieve the monotony.

On New Moon,
Iolanthe
slid another letter beneath
Spring's
door and walked quickly away. If any of the Companions saw her do such a thing, it could mean expulsion or at the very least, solitary penance.

The Companions were quite strict about some of their precepts and outside communication was one of them. It would not matter that Lady Spring was only in their temporary care; she was still expected to abide by their tenets. It was, after all, for
her own
good. Hadn't her father made it a matter of extreme importance that none were to discover his daughter's presence? He did not explain why, but that was of small matter. The Companions were not curious. They wished only to lead a quiet life away from distracting outside influences. What he had requested was no more than they required.

Under ordinary circumstances,
Iolanthe
would never have agreed to such complicity. It was only that the sad-eyed young woman had been through so much and now had no one at all since her only parent had passed away. If this covert communication afforded her a measure of peace, then who was she to deny that request? Peace and comfort were the goals of the Companions, were they not? And it was plain the letters she had smuggled in to Lady Spring did provide her with a strange comfort.

She also admitted to herself that the harmless intrigue spiced up an otherwise too peaceful existence for
Iolanthe
. She went on down the hallway, reminding herself to do extra kitchen duty for the worldly thoughts she had been plagued with of late. And perhaps there would even be the chore of discarding the extra portions.

While
Iolanthe
contemplated pudding,
Spring
was thinking of her dearest enemy. "What is on your mind tonight, Zygote? Are you warm and secure in your mad magician's bed, or can it be you will toss and turn, wondering where the daughter of Gabriel has eluded you?

"Do you dare dream of holding her in your thin arms, penetrating her soft young body even as you penetrate the deepest secrets of her mind? Or could the ways of the flesh hold any allure for one such as you? I think not.

"No, a woman's heart is but an organ. To know a heart, you must possess one, and yours is cold hard lead. Power is your love, wealth your desire. How could a mere woman compete with that?"

"Dream on, Zygote, and sleep well. All
your
fond desiring, anxious waiting, patient planning, will avail you nothing. Yet, we will meet. But at a time of my choosing, and I fear, your dreams will become a nightmare."

The sound of the letter thrust beneath the door jarred
Spring
back to reality. Her face still reflected the hatred for the man who had destroyed her father, as she retrieved the missive. Another of the growing assortment she had received in answer to her ad.

Most were from smut-mouthed aliens looking for thrills with a pretty human female. They minced no words detailing descriptions of their incredible desires. Many were unintelligible to her, of course, as she had no idea what it meant to "
gibrate
with her
dorlinta
as she
comarited
his
nobila
." Or to "swing the ten
patos
to contact her
ba
ba
." But one could imagine a full stomach would be a no-no.

She had assembled three piles of replies to go through. The truly depraved were tossed aside, the mixed bags sorted through, and the handful of best possibilities carefully considered. She went through these again, noting they came mainly from lonely males on distant or rural planets without many females of their own age or status to choose from. They seemed genuinely interested in forming a friendship. She lingered over one in particular.

It was from a tiny planetoid called P#23. Wait-it stood for Paradise. How quaint. It was very secluded. A point in its favor. The young man who was writing called himself a
Veganoid
, a part human, part plant person. As a student of botany she found that concept intriguing rather than repelling. She had a vague recollection of such beings, but as the plant folk were not space travellers and of comparatively noncompetitive technology, they were largely unknown. Certainly she had never met one nor knew of anyone who had. Interesting.

Spring set the letter aside and ripped the rest up, tossing them at the bathroom disintegration unit. Considering their foul content for the most part, it was an appropriate way to dispose of them.

Reading through Herb's letter again, for that was the plant man's
name,
she discovered he had mentioned enclosing a picture. Could she have overlooked it when sorting? Probably he had intended to, and then forgotten before posting it. Now she was more curious than ever. What would a plant man look like? A walking bush?

Taking out a sheet of floral-scented note paper, a nice touch, she wrote thoughtfully for a few minutes, then placed the note in its sealer and tucked in a photograph of herself in swim apparel. While it was common on many planets to swim in the nude, body suits were still used on her home world. She had on such an outfit in the photo, a transparent affair except for big daisy designs at the proper places. It was actually quite concealing, but the illusion was otherwise. She had had quite a discussion with her father over that selection. How she wished he were still with her to argue! Sighing wistfully, she closed the sealer.

The object of her interest, Herb Moss, sat in a shady bower in the Paradise Public Gardens reflecting on his life. He and Lily were getting on well. At least, they never disagreed. Maybe that was because Lily always deferred to him whenever the least hint of discord threatened.

While it was all very well to have one's way all the time, such a relationship lacked stimulation and exchange of ideas. She was giving in for the sake of peace, not because she agreed with him. Now that he thought of it, they didn't discuss much of anything outside of their upcoming union plans and his work at the firm, or other safe subjects.

Lily's family had forgiven him for his temporary transplant, and his father had offered him a good position at the firm of Moss and Ivy, Inc. It was an old company with a spotless reputation and would assure them a good financial future. It was uneventful work, but secure, with his father for his boss.

Herb was just the sort of steady young man most parents hope their daughter will meet, and Lily's parents were thrilled that he had at last decided to plant a union with their daughter. Financial considerations aside, they had always felt he was right for her. Likewise, Herb's family approved of Lily and felt she was the proper type of girl for Herb. One who would stand him in good stead as a company
wife.
She came from strong roots, her family had run a thriving cottonwood plantation for several generations, and they were frequently mentioned in the local society column at this or that charity function. His father thanked the Founder that Herb had not taken up with any of those spa blossoms he'd spoken so fondly of.

The families were happy, Lily was happy-well,
that
was two out of three. Everything was coming up roses and he still could not feel right about it. He had it all, and yet something was missing.

True to his unspoken word, Herb had not strayed from the narrow path. It took some getting used to, but he had faithfully confined his interest in the opposite sex to lofty thoughts of Lily, and the not so lofty thoughts to the pages of some men's
zinias
he had picked up on a whim from the corner newsstand.

Lily might not exactly approve of
National Galactic Girl, Interstellar
Stud, or
Spicy Aliens
as reading material, but he was certain she wouldn't like the alternative. Yet, compared to his long distance friendship with the Moon Maiden, she might not care at all.

One bright spot in his life had become his secret correspondence following the answer he'd sent on impulse to a personals ad one night. He saw no reason to discontinue it yet. He and Lily had not set the final date for their union ceremony. She agreed with him it was wise to wait until they could afford a down payment on a home. Now that she was certain of him, there seemed no end to her patience.