Botanicaust

prancing youngsters through the glass next door.
    The concept of clear walls and ceilings must be mind boggling , Tula reminded herself. Outside, single story houses reflected harsh sunlight onto the streets from mirrored walls. She didn ’ t remember much of her own early Integration, but new converts were always flighty. Jo Boy would require a gentle hand until he grew used to his surroundings.
    Taking Jo Boy ’ s hand, she managed to pull him forward and together they settled on a cushion at the outer edge of the group. Most of these children had been converted years ago. Many didn ’ t remember the Outside. And of course many were native Haldanians. One of Tula ’ s previous converts smiled at her and scootched a fraction closer before Tula shook her head and nodded toward Jo Boy. The girl stuck out her lip but stopped her approach. On future visits, Tula would socialize, but today Jo Boy needed all her attention.
    Albert, the day-teacher, caught Tula ’ s eye and winked before returning his attention to the kids. “ Class, eyes, up here, ” he said, drawing attention away from the newcomers. He held a sealed glass cloche with a single-stemmed plant inside. “ What do we do if we see a plant? ”
    Several hands shot into the air, and one little boy wearing a yellow friendship bracelet spoke out of turn. “ Is it poison ? ”
    “ To you, yes. What happens if you touch it? ”
    “ Touch it, Clay. ” A little girl pushed the boy with the bracelet and he turned to slap her back.
    “ Enough, children. ”
    Jo Boy was older than the rest of the class, but Tula found integrating older converts into younger classes worked well, both socially and academically. His chloroplasts had greened up quite nicely, and now he needed to learn the language.
    “ My dad works the Burn. He says he likes the smell. It makes him high, ” another boy chirped.
    The silver beads in Albert ’ s short dark hair rattled as he turned to lance the little boy with a glare. “ Plants won ’ t make you high. If you were out on the Burn, the smoke would probably kill you. At the very least, it would make you wish you were dead. Plants make our bodies think they are under attack, so our chloroplasts create poisons to fight back. ”
    “ What about the yuvee trees? Aren ’ t they plants? ” This was from a girl who wore gold earrings like an adult, obviously native Haldanian. Someone with family who loved her.
    “ That ’ s a very good question, Amaryllis. Yuvee trees are indeed plants. But they are one of the few plants we allow inside the city because they warn us of an upcoming ultraviolet flare when the leaves become pale. But even yuvee trees are only allowed to grow in designated areas. And never inside the Garden or the play yard. ”
    “ I can see a yuvee tree from the cafeteria when my mom takes me to lunch. ”
    Jo Boy watched the interactions with wide eyes, his focus sometimes swinging to the class next door. Tula wondered how much he understood. He would be watched closely over the next few months. He needed to learn that sunlight outside of the protective glass of the Garden would harm him. Once he finished puberty, his system could endure the chemicals UV radiation caused his body to produce. Even workers on the Burn, who were acclimated to long periods of direct sunlight and exposure to foreign plants, sometimes came back with an overdose and needed therapy.
    The children had digressed into personal stories, no longer focused on the teacher. “ The sun will kill you if you look right at it when the yuvee tree turns white. ”
    “ No, it won ’ t. Only if you ’ re outside. ”
    “ It ’ ll burn your eyes out. ”
    “ Okay, kids, settle down. We ’ re talking about plants now, not ultraviolet waves. As long as you ’ re in the Garden, the sun can ’ t hurt you. But sometimes when we go outside at night, you might find a seedling in the yard. If we see a plant, do we touch it? ” the teacher asked.
    “ Nooooo, ” the children chimed together.
    Jo Boy jumped at the chorus and looked at Tula. She smiled in reassurance. He ’ d probably never seen this many children together before.
    “ What do you do? ” Albert crossed his arms over his chest, his silver wristbands catching the light.
    “ Call a grown up, ” again the children chimed as one.
    Jo Boy remained still, scanning the group in front of him.
    “ Call a grown up to dispose of it properly. That ’ s right. Touching a plant will make our