Apple on Eden

Adam settled into his seat as the silent speed of Europa’s newest anti-grav monorail, Eden, sliced its way through the countryside. He looked forward to the frictionless ride after a long day of druidic gardening for the Outer Rim’s current Raja. With an all but lost science that some might call magic, Adam had refined his knowledge of ancient wisdom, manipulating the good and evil, the Yin and Yang of organic equilibrium, into an art form.

      Trying to grow un-replicated flora was not easy or appreciated. But, like most anything in the universe, there is a price to be paid. Nature demands harmony and a balance must be maintained. As he told his body to relax, easing the tension that came from his chosen profession, he was reminded of something his teacher had told him once, “A perfect balance often hovers on a razor’s edge.” And today, he felt every aching bit of it.

      He glanced about the car; a dowdy couple snogging in the back and three salesmen, not one older than 21, seated along the far wall like huddled penguins in black wool suits, starched white shirts, and oddly identical haircuts mumbling shop. Adam pulled his cloak around himself and settled in for a welcomed, relaxing ride home. If it was quiet, he might even get some sleep. From the look of things, tonight would be perfectly divine.

      The cabin door slid open with a hiss; the light from the next car framed a young girl in a subtle glow. No more than 16, she stood frozen for a moment holding a small green satchel in her dainty hands. Her innocence had already begun to blossom into womanhood. Adam’s paternal gaze measured her blouse a bit too tight and her skirt far too revealing to be out this late alone; a fact that had not gone unnoticed by the three salesmen whose hormones had begun to take over their good sense.

      All eyes followed as she sauntered in with cat-like confidence. Yet, she lowered her gaze with demure vulnerability as she approached the three men. This had an obvious, perhaps even intentional, effect on their overactive libidos, which were trying too hard to strike a proper masculine pose.

      “Oi,” one of them barked. “Why not park that fine ass over here?”

      “Yeah,” another smiled. “We make gooood comp’ny.”

      “Thanks, guys,” she said. “But I’m just-“

      “-No,” the third one said as he stood to block her way. “You’ll be sittin’ wit’ us.” He looked her up and down.

      Adam had all he could stomach, “That’s enough, gentlemen! Take a seat before your cliché overcomes your better judgment.”

      One of the men pulled the young woman down onto the bench next to him and began to sniff at her long black hair. While his hand explored the hemline of her skirt, the flesh of her forearm began to turn white from the pressure of his grip. The two remaining men turned to face Adam.

      “Ya mind yer business, ol’ man,” the closest man said.

      “If ya know what’s good fer ya,” the other finished.

      “You need to mind your manners,” Adam said standing to face them. Both men were standing broadside and the one seated had his foot much too far out to be able to react to anything quickly.

      Adam quickly scanned for the tell-tale bulge of a hidden weapon and, noticing at least one, he took a step forward to angle his stance. He took a deep breath, forced his body to relax, and then coiled kinetic energy to prepare for a quick release. The middle man slid his hand into his suitcoat. 

      “Ol man, ya best sit back down before we—,“

      Adam didn’t wait for him to finish and quickly struck the man in the floating rib with the heel of his hand. He heard it crack.

      “Now, let the girl go,” Adam said softly. “And tend to your friend.”

      The men hesitated before finally complying. The closest man was now gasping for breath and the other two helped him back to their bench seat still unsure of what had happened.

     

      “Excuse me, boys,” the young woman said as she poked the salesman in the chest with her finger and rose to her feet. A wince quickly erased any confidence remaining in his face. She slid past the others and sat down in the seat next to Adam.

      “You okay?” he asked.

      “Just fine now, thanks,” she whispered a playful giggle as she leaned in against him. “But, I had it under control.”

      “Yes...I’m sure you did,” Adam couldn’t help but notice how fragrant and sweet she smelled, how deep and blue her eyes looked, and how he had to force himself to look out the window for anything that might divert his mind from the thoughts that crept in against his will. Stop, she’s young enough to be your daughter, he rebuked himself.

      While he had tried to keep a watchful eye on the three salesmen and his mind on something other than her, Adam couldn’t remember much else from the trip, not a word, only the sound of her voice...and her smell. But then, the ride to Argos Station came to an unbelievably swift, but uneventful end.

      “Thanks for...,” the young woman rubbed his arm gently.

      “N-Na-No worries,” Adam jumped up into the aisle.

      “Here,” she smiled as she reached into her satchel and offered a shiny red apple, “...a thank you.” Adam couldn’t remember the last time he had seen a real, un-replicated piece of fruit. He could already smell the juicy white flesh. Before he knew it, the fruit was in Adam’s hand.

     

      “Bye,” she said with a wink as she headed for the door.

      “I didn’t get your name,” Adam replied and then took a bite. The young woman glanced back, her eyes were now a dark amber.

      “My name is Lucy...Lucy Fuhrman,” she smiled and was gone before Adam could notice the salesman’s bloody shirt...or the slit in the apple where the razorblade had been.