Liana's Ship (#ONC 2021)

12. Liana: Mush

Ms Snippy was sheathed and ready to be drawn. 

Not really, I had her in my pocket, closed with the safety catch on. Not as dramatic as that, I knew horticulture isn't  cool. 

I ventured into the observation deck, Thera could complain all she wanted, but she needed a bloody good trim. I could imagine the lovely garden and exotic plants resulting from this clearance. The result would be worth the effort. Ok I'd probably be long gone before it got to that stage but I had something to do in the meantime.

Sometimes when you face something huge, say a dense patch of brambles or whatever the tangle was right in front me then. The only thing you can do is let the feeling of running away go, take a deep breath and get hacking with a blade. That and a really thick pair of gloves, pulling out thorns is never a fun evening’s entertainment. I looked at the tangled mass, not knowing if there were thorns or worse in there. Maybe Thera would take offence and entwine me in it. I remembered what Doctor Downer said. I yelled, hoping Thera would hear. 

"Hey Thera! I know you don't like me but maybe we can come to some kind of agreement? I want to give you a light pruning here please?"

I waited for an answer. I wasn't sure if I'd get giggles from passers by or suffocated by vines. I shuddered, preferring ridicule from anyone over the pervasive silence. The place was deserted, Thera hadn't responded to my plea. What response was I expecting anyway? A parting of vines? A mumbled affirmative? I waited a minute before releasing the safety catch on the secateurs, imagining it was like taking the safety on a gun or setting the phaser to kill. In reality there was barely a click. Thera had her chance, now it was time for action.

Opening up the blades, I picked a vine that blocked my path, lifting it to eye height. Here goes, I thought, bringing the blades together. Eyes tightly closed...

Snip.

Nothing. Not even a leaf waving.

The breath I held, escaped my lungs. 

Relief.

 I waited a few more seconds and started on the next vine.

An hour passed, then two and three. Congested vegetation fell to the floor and tendrils closed over them. I didn't have to do the usual cleaning up afterwards. I made a lot of progress, the wood-like ground showed and a path became visible. It wasn't much, clearing it all would have taken weeks. Maybe when I left there would be enough space cleared for new plants and perhaps a bench. Despite my progress, something bothered me as I went deeper into the mass.

The air smelled like a combination of hothouse and cut grass at first. Most cut plants have that green, live smell when first cut. The vines had dark red leaves here but if I closed my eyes I couldn’t tell the difference. Occasionally, you’ll get a floral or citrus smell as oils are released. As I ventured further, the smell began to adopt a cloying undertone. I thought it might have been a flower at first, one that emitted a slightly rotting smell to attract flies but flowers like that usually smell like dead animals. This was more like, I sniffed.

Where had I smelled that before?

The place I passed by earlier in the day, I realised. The same sickly sweet rotting smell, getting stronger as I cut further into the vines. Looking around, the vegetation lay on the floor unabsorbed and rotting. 

My stomach heaved. The smell! It was making my head hurt, forget a hangover, I felt like I’d had a session on floor cleaner. Before I know it, I’m hunched over throwing up on the floor. When I finished, my stomach was empty, I retched instead. My whole body felt weak, I could only crawl for a few minutes. Then, with a little strength returning, I slowly got up. 

The discarded vines I'd cut off, the ends were crumbly and brittle. Looking closer I could see the all too familiar fuzz of mould.

Poor Thera, I thought, if I had a rampant fungal infection I'd be grumpy too. Hell, I had one myself after a course of antibiotics, let's just say lacy underwear and tight jeans induced a rage I'd never had before and leave it at that.

I picked up a vine to get a better look, It dissolved to a blackish brown mush in my hand. The vines were dripping with this brown liquid, the air was thick with spores releasing as the vines broke down. I should have retreated before I got a serious case of farmer's lung but I couldn't move. I was stuck, my feet now wet from the brown goop. I was knee deep in sludge and couldn’t get free.

It felt like I'd sunk into a black and rotting banana. It had breached my boots, soaked my socks and oozed between my toes. I was now wet all over as the overhead vines dripped their poison onto me. The mould filled my lungs with toxic fumes and I was struggling to fight to stay awake

Then like a well known cliche in science fiction my vision went black as I lost consciousness. I Probably fell face first into the rot for good measure.

*Word count: 11449*