Eleanor had never felt anything quite like the rose petal that Sam’s grandma handed her. She rubbed it between a thumb and two fingers, marveling in the soft texture and the sweet heady scent.

And to think, old Earth had been full of plants like this—things of beauty with little or no value as food sources. She wondered if Shindashir would be like that, too, or if the world they were approaching would be more barren.

“So, what do you think?” Kali asked. “Can you help us?”

“Help you?”

“Help us save the garden,” Sam said. “I didn’t want to ask, but it means so much to Grandma, and it really does provide emergency back up for food supplies on Hope.”

Eleanor looked over at Sam’s gran...

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