December, 2714
"Dr. Morningstar!" called Therese, Violet's assistant, as she rushed out of the elevator that had transported her over a mile below the Project Green experimental site and into Dr. Morningstar's laboratory. "I just came from Project Green and the plants are coming along fabulously. The soil has not rejected any of the seeds, and sprouts of corn are bursting forth. It's simply wonderful!"
Violet grinned at her third year graduate assistant and said with a note of caution, "It's wonderful now, but remember the last project; the plants died two weeks after germination."
"Yes, but that was before your latest adjustment to the soil crystals. And, as my mother always reminds me, 'Pessimism kills the soul, optimism grows the spirit. Choose your path'."
"Well, since you put it like that, I guess I choose optimism. I only wish I could visit the surface lab to see for myself."
"Actually, I'm glad you're not allowed. We can't risk anything happening to you. There's still too much radiation in the atmosphere for humans, and the required hazmat suits and breathers are uncomfortable. They take away any enjoyment of being on the surface."
Violet reached for a synthesized carrot, offered one to her assistant, and said, "Hopefully, we'll soon be eating real carrots."
Almost month later Violet's optimism suddenly plummeted. The corn's fantastic growth had ended and, as in every other experiment, began to shrivel. The only bright spot was that this latest batch had survived longer than any other over the past two years of experimentation.
A few days later Violet was summoned to Dr. Kilgore's bedside where machines kept him alive. His body, useless and emaciated, was in stark contrast to his alert and vibrant mind. With the aid of brain stimulators, he spoke to Violet via a large data screen.
Good morning, Violet.
"Good morning, sir."
It appears our latest results are not as expected.
"No sir. I'm sorry."
You have nothing to be sorry about. You have brought us closer to reversing the damage from the 2172 radiation burst than anyone. The scientists of that era expected damage, but nothing like what happened. Never could they have imagined that by the next century the survivors would be forced to live underground. It's a paradox, Violet; the sun gives life, but it also takes life.
Violet gazed into Dr. Kilgore's eyes and felt close to tears. Soon, the machines keeping him alive would no longer be able to sustain him. A man Violet had once considered brash and harsh had proven to be anything but that. And she remembered the exact day her opinion of him had changed—the day he'd clasped her hand when he'd announced her research viable.
Violet, I see tears in your eyes. You should not weep for me. Soon I will join my family who passed long ago, and believe me; I am ready to move on. I informed the Trustees yesterday to begin preparing my successor to assume my duties.
A tear trickled down Violet's cheek. "I'll…I'll miss you, sir."
A smiled twinkled in Dr. Kilgore's eyes.
After all these years, don't you think you should call me George?
"Yes sir, er…George." She smiled tremulously and reached to touch his cheek.