Planted

• Science fiction
• Short story
• Fiction

								
“Where are we going Keith?” April asked from the passenger seat as we cruised northbound on I-5. 
“To the train station, of course,” I told her, too excited to contain the secret any longer. I had spent several months trying to figure out what to do to celebrate our third anniversary. Last week an advertisement for a Four Day all-inclusive, Spectacular Train Tour Vacation through the Canadian Rockies, popped up on my NewSpace feed. To me it felt like fate… or at least good targeted marketing. A few simple clicks and I’d be the best husband ever, and I wouldn’t have to stress any longer about anniversary plans. The decision on whether or not to book the trip was solidified once I noticed the complimentary open bar. 
“I wanted to wait until we got there to tell you, but what the hell. We’ll be at the train station in two exits anyway,” I told her. 
“I didn’t know they still had those,” she said with a concerned mix of emotions on her face. It had been three years since the end of the war, so taking trips for leisure hadn’t been a common occurrence. This past year there had been an influx of commercials on TV that attempted to persuade people that — travel is the key to heal all wounds. 
“Unlimited booze, scenic views, it’s got everything,” I told her with a wink and a proud smirk. “Picture this: you and me, cruising through the most beautiful mountain scenery, dining in a luxurious train car, toasting champagne while we take in the beautiful Canadian countryside.”
“Where are we going to sleep?” she questioned. “Is there a bed? Am I not going to be able to shower? Because I’m not prepared for that Keith,” she said more frustrated than excited. 
“Don’t worry, it's going to be nice.”
She looked at me with concern still on her face. Her chestnut eyes narrowed slightly, in a questioning way. She looked as if she was searching for the right words to say through a maze of tunnels in her mind. 
“Is it safe?” 
I was taken aback by the question, but I realized what was happening. She was doing it again… making up scenarios in her head to stress over – all for none of them to actually happen the way she feared. Her psychiatrist said it’s part of her PTSD. “There’s nothing for you to worry about,” I said, in an attempt to calm her nerves. I knew April has had a harder time with the whole mental recovery thing than I have, but we couldn’t live the rest of our lives in fear of the strangers around us. 
Apart from the doomsday fanatics, no one was prepared for the war. When the power went out across the country, a lot of communities came together. But that was short lived once people realized how much food they didn’t have to spare. At best, they became hermits and stuck to themselves. At worst, people became murderous. It was April’s and my unit that was given the mission to find and eradicate these lawless groups. April was never really able to come to terms with the things the government ordered us to do, and to be honest neither have I. I still found myself waking up, heart pounding out of my chest from the nightmares.  
“Yes, it's safe…” I told her, I had no doubts about that. The world we were in today is far from what it once was. I could see April out of the corner of my eye, fidgeting with the collar of her shirt. She pinched the front of her t-shirt between her finger and thumb, as she rubbed the inside stitching across her lips, back and forth. 
“We’re going to have a great time my love,” I told her, as I pulled into a vacant parking spot close to the entrance of the station. I could see a line of androids dressed in uniforms near the train station door, ready to assist people with their bags. 
She stared vacantly through the car’s windshield and refused to meet my gaze, trapped by her racing thoughts. 
“April…”    
“I know… I’m sorry.”
 She took a long breath in and looked at me. She leaned over the center console, and I leaned towards her. She closed her eyes, and it looked as if a tear could fall from them. I leaned toward her and pressed my forehead against hers. She took in a deep breath and quickly released it, sending a tremor from my head to my chest.
“You’re alright… It’s going to be alright. We are going to have so much fun, please believe me…” I told her.
We sat for a moment there, in the car, as we breathed each other in. I wished I could fix all the brokenness that the war left us with. Our body, our minds, our sense of security. I wished I could help April see that everything was fine. We could still have a good life, experience the world together, without the fear that everything is going to come crashing down on us. 
“I know you hate being around people. I know you're scared. But it's okay. We have each other, and we're going to have a great time,” I reassured her. It felt like the only thing I could do was to promise her everything was going to be okay and hope to myself it would be. Ground her in reality the doc said… I was trying.
“I know…” she said again with an exhale. 
	She lifted her chestnut eyes to meet mine. 
	“Are you ready?” I asked her with a smirk. “Because I can’t wait much longer to hit up that mini bar. I’ll leave you here if you keep this up.”
	She scrunched her nose at me, pursed her lips as she punched me in the shoulder. “Alright, alright! Let’s get to it then,” she said as she rolled her eyes. 


The train’s interior was nicer than I expected, very European. The ornate details overwhelmed my senses. Navy blue seats were coupled together and lined the aisle we walked down. Cedar panels banded floor to ceiling and enveloped the train car in a warm amber glow. As we made our way further down the aisle, I noticed the intricately carved leaves that adorned the borders of each window. 
There weren’t many pictures of the “newly renovated” train on the Amtrak website, just images of the scenes we would expect to see. So really, I was just crossing my fingers that it would be decent at least. We arrived at the compartment designated on the tickets. The gilded door plaque hung proudly on the door, Room 137. I slid the solid wooden door to our room open and looked at April. 
“After you, my lady,” I said with my best butler bow.
“You are the biggest dork. Would you cut it out?” She rolled her eyes at me, trying not to smile. 
“I’m just your humble servant, I don’t know what you mean, my lady.” 
“What is wrong with you…you play too much.” 
“If my lady would turn her attention towards the —” I paused as I finally noticed the grandeur of the room we were assigned. “Oh, holy crap this room is nice.”
Wainscoting paneling wrapped around the bottom half of the room. Light green, white and blue, grasscloth textured wallpaper adorned the walls decorated by antique gold leaf picture frames. 
“Didn’t take you for the classy type,” she teased.
“Hold on, let me double check we’re in the right room,” I stepped out jokingly, looking for the room number. 
“Would you stop it,” she said as she pawed at the air in jest, trying to push me away. 

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