The Green Pill

AUTHOR’S NOTE:

Dear Reader,

Surely you have many narratives and readings requiring your attention, so I will be brief. Attached for your consideration is my new story The Green Pill at under 900 words. The picture at the top is of a crow wearing an earbud. Why?!

I wanted to explore a Solarpunk scenario, since I haven’t encountered it much yet in literature. It got me thinking, «What about an alternate reality from the red pill/blue pill choice in The Matrix?» So the tale opens a portal into an Earth clearly altered by climate change, yet life is on the rebound through a strange new agreement between nature and humanity.

**

THE GREEN PILL

When they thought of it, Orpheus walked over to the package on their desk, and began opening it. Unsure if they’d ordered it delivered themself, or it had come from someone else, they removed a sealed metallic box. Scanning the grounds nearby, uncertainty abound. Unlatching the box, Orpheus found a single gel capsule the color of ripened avocado skin.

Without any label or directions enclosed, Orpheus scoured the lone pill, holding it up into the era’s slowly draining permacover of sulphur dioxide cirrocumulus. The typical afternoon gloom only enhanced this capsule’s orblike quality. Mutely it spoke to Orpheus’ grip, until placing the pill on their tongue, Orpheus resolutely swallowed.

Latching the box closed, Orpheus caught a taste of spruce. Looking outside across the woody decay and bric a brac of a long suffering lawn, a scurrying thread of scales and fur pulled them within reach of a window sill. Watching with a forgotten softness, Mouse humbly clustered in a rare patch of clover, combing through it with paws and teeth like a floss. A few buds digesting, she slouched toward food comatose.

Orpheus imagined her a lullaby, dancing the melody through their fingers along the glass. Feeling the pane’s coolness, an act of sublimation, transmuted the day’s soggy sunlight into a cascade of reflections arriving from the Forest’s outer realm. Orpheus summoned scents of taiga and mangrove.

Then out of the tattered treeline, a familiar, resounding cry came from above the yard.

Orpheus filled a water bottle, slid on a VO2 mask, activated it, put on gloves, raised their focal contrast, opened the door to the backyard, and stepped outside.

A subsidiary pocket of six Crows perched in a multi-branch crescent formation, while Mouse slouched into the crevice of a boulder. No Vulture.

The Crows announced themselves with a popular morning cröpera. The fine three-eighths ‘caw’ to ‘purr’ structure pulled Diana out of the Garden.

“Oh,” she contorted, like a tennis player completely misjudging a ball. “We thought you were coming later today,” she evened things out.

The Crows replied that the Rain had sent them earlier than expected. To which, Mouse squeaked in their general direction, then headed into a reddening thicket of berries after new scents.

“Well go ahead,” said Diana, watching Mouse go.

The pocket went inside.

With eyes mossy against her general glow, Diana turned toward Orpheus. Orpheus sought oxygenation, their inhaler granted it. Into the Garden they went.

“Our transpiration rates are up quite a bit this week. Soaking up lots for char and potash, while feeding plenty of rain and pollen. Phosphates and dioxins trending down. Looking forward to quite the flower yields throughout the northern corridor this summer. We’ll be swimming in bugs by solstice and squash through first snow. The hoppers and crawlers, well, the flyers too, really, so many. They’ll have a field day, yes, so many. It’ll be a good string of seasons if the sunshine picks up at all,” Diana said.

Mouse chomped bullishly at a confused strawberry. The permapeppers and root vegetables agreed from their rows. Ant colonies shuddered. The leafy greens caught un petit peu applause sur le vent. A buffalo stopped chewing.

Their outlook turned bucolic, so long as things went well with the Crows.

Looking inside, all the lights were on.

“Soon the trails will be open all the way to the coast,” Orpheus realized.

“Yes, I’ve been out a bit already today,” encouraged Diana, “If you’re going far, you can keep compression settings low. It’s pretty clear out.”

Orpheus turned toward the trailhead picturing a baleen. They began selecting a course.

“So so many out there today. Some flyers, yes, lotta herd. Lotta herd. Really. Surprising amount of canopy, strong cover too. Seeing new succulents now. They may actually be sent up from Coyote. Plenty of seed though, nice grass work. Hemp, graphene, Solana steady. Bolettes, chanterelles, chaga, reishi checked-in, a decent count on predators too. Starting to see the many invitations and exchanges play out to increase carrying capacity. Water cycle is seventy-four percent less toxic, soil forty-six percent more complex microbially and twenty-four percent more mycologically. Enough old fashioned sunshine and we’ll be flush come winter.”

“No tomato, no honey, no highways, no rice, no chocolate or plums,” Orpheus confirmed.

“Well.”

Diana reached into a bin and began handing out dried figs.

Thoroughly stuffed, Mouse presented hers with a kind of alley oop to one of the Crows, as the troop trotted back outside onto their pinetop perch.

They seemed satisfied. Breaking into song, the full accord of their voices became immediately apparent. From the hedges of Orpheus’ lawn to the slaggard heathrow’s pulpy depths, a rousing qawwali tribute to ‘Sanu ek pal chain na aave’ rang clear and true into the leavening sky. The Sun p{[(iqued)eeked]eaked} at the troop scaling through its rounds. The yard flinched momentarily between night and day, allowing Diana to access enough intermittent feed to gather a solid bump in charge.

Song concluded, the Crows indicated they would follow up soon to check on humidity levels and infiltrations. They flapped away.

The Humans braced for a Vulture flyby that didn’t come.

Mouse sniffled in their wake. The world’s daylight persisted, a rebellious spark in a cave. Diana brought herself back into the Garden with thoughts of wild tomato.

Orpheus made a breath and headed for the trails.