Perfect Conditions

Dec 03, 2024

The Lord God planted a garden toward the east, in Eden; and there He placed the man whom He had formed.

Genesis 2:8

Aview of the earth from space - Javier Miranda

Perfect Conditions

The shuttle’s landing gear slammed into the ground, jolting hard enough to make Eve Nakamura wince. Not exactly textbook—not even close. She threw a glance at the co-pilot’s seat, where Adam Calloway sat, arms crossed, his face twisted like he was stuck watching a bad movie.
“Admit it. You thought I messed up the landing ‘cause I’m a girl,” Eve accused preemptively.
Adam left his seat. “Nah, I wasn’t thinkin’ that, my brilliant, sweet, talented copilot. I was too busy bracin’ for impact.”
“Yes, you were!”
“Why would I?”
“Cause you’re a… Man!”
Adam chuckled. “C’mon, Eve. There’s only two of us on this bucket, and I ain’t dumb enough to start a fight I can’t win.”
Eve sighed, muttering under her breath as she headed for the locker.
“First landing. I’ll do better next time,” she said, yanking out their helmets.
“Ya think there’ll be a next time? That’s real optimistic, my sweet pigeon.”
Eve gazed at him. “You blaming me?”
“Just statin’ facts, sweetheart.”
“There, now you’re angry with me!”
“I’m not!” Adam said back. “Ship’s fine. You’re fine. I’m fine. We’re all freakin’ fine, alright?”
“Got something to say? Say it.”
“Anything I say’s just ammo for ya,” Adam muttered, tugging his helmet on with exaggerated care. “So I’m keepin’ my trap shut.”
He grabbed the scanner and stalked toward the hatch. Eve stepped in front of him.
“Look, this ain’t all on me, Adam.”
“Sure ain’t. But you’re the one who shook hands with Roger Snake. Told ya to steer clear of that guy.”
“He won me over with his good manners.”
“Good manners, my ass. He played nice to set a trap, Eve. He’s a grade-A crook.”
“He said he was going to solve all our problems,” Eve protested.
Adam imitated Snake’s voice, “I am Roger Snake. I solve problems. Honey, this ain’t Pulp Fiction. Ya really think this’ll end well?”
“Mister Snake tossed us a bone, Adam. A chance!”
“A chance? This?” Adam gestured around. “Ya call this a chance? We had a home, jobs, dreams—yeah, maybe they were small, but they were ours. We had it all, Eve. I had you, you had me. Hell, we didn’t have to sign a damn thing.”
Eve threw a hand toward the porthole. “We had everything, but not this!”
They both stared out. The view didn’t give much, just a pink-glowing alien sky and shadowy shapes teasing at whatever was out there waiting.
“Figures. With my luck, there’s probably some Alien out there just waitin’ to melt my face off with acid blood.”
“You’ve been bingein’ too much of that sci-fi garbage,” Eve said.
“And maybe if you’d watched some,” Adam countered, “you wouldn’t have signed us up for space colonization with Snake freakin’ Enterprises. Colonists, space, spaceships. Tell me, my sweet lady, how does that not end with an Alien around the corner?”
“Adam-kun, you’re impossible. But… I love you, baka.”
“Love ya too, little bird. Even if ya signed a contract that could kill us both.”

The sky? Bubblegum pink, like some kid’s fever dream. And that moss? Looked soft, but squished weird under your boots, like stepping on wet carpet. In the distance, trees with licorice-like trunks swayed in a breeze Adam couldn’t sense. He tugged at the sleeve of his suit. “Why do these damn things always itch?” He was about to say more when the scanner beeped.
“Oxygen levels?” Eve asked.
“Wait. I have no idea how to do it.”
“Check the data. Oxygen.”
“Can ya wait, Eve?”
“You're holding it wrong.”
“Will ya let me?”
“Oh, dear. You Americans.”
“Don’t pick on the Americans now.”
“And who should I be pickin’ on? I’m Japanese. And here is only you with me.”
“Look, I got it. Oxygen levels... Perfect.”
“Gravity?” she went on.
“Perfect.”
“Pathogens?”
“None detected,” Adam replied again, but he frowned. “Too perfect.”
“What do you mean?” asked Eve, moving closer to him.
“All the readings say it’s perfect for livin’ here,” he muttered, pulling off his helmet. His sharp blue eyes locked on the pink sky, suspicious. The air carried the faint, salty tang of seaweed, though no water was in sight. Beyond the wall of trees looming around them, maybe there was a sea. An ocean. Or… something else entirely.
“Yeah. Perfect conditions,” he muttered again.
“That’s what Roger Snake promised,” Eve said removing her helmet as well, yes, so that her beautiful oriental Japanese profile and the flawless beauty of her huge dark eyes could be shown to this new world.
“Damn it,” Adam muttered.
“What now?”
“Damn it, Eve. I mean, this just—”
“Why do you always think there’s a catch?”
“Because. There always is,” he shot back.
“Not this time.”
“This feels…” He hesitated, glancing around, his voice dropping. “Too easy.”
“Roger Snake gave us a real opportunity,” she said. “C’mon, just go for it!”
“I’m an ex-con. Ya’re a supermarket clerk. Nobody gives people like us a real opportunity, honey. Not unless there’s a catch.”
“Please Adam… I need this.”
That was how she always got to him—those inky black eyes, pulling him in like they held all the answers he needs to live. Loving her was a sure ticket to ruin. Adam knew that, but he loved her anyway. Eve was his moon at the bottom of a well, and before her, his whole life had been a godforsaken pit of loneliness. A shitty, grotesque, inhumane pit.
With a sigh, he slung the rifle over his shoulder. “Okay,” he said. “Let’s try.”

And indeed there was a change. After a few weeks, the strange local trees had begun to bend into shapes that resembled the pastureland Eve grew up in. The lavender moss had begun to sprout patches of golden flowers that opened and closed according to the cycles of the twin suns. The air was warm at night, just as Adam liked it, and the cicadas sang incessantly, just as they did in Japan, where he had spent the best part of his life. It was there that he and Eve had met and fallen in love.
Eve was sitting in front of their small prefabricated shelter, her hands dirty from planting the seedlings that they had brought back from the Earth. The soil was surprisingly rich, as if it had been in wait for them. Adam stood close by, his rifle slung over his shoulder as he scanned the horizon. The trees were motionless. Perfectly motionless. It rarely rained, except when it had to. It rarely snowed, except when it had to. Rarely was the weather not perfect for them. Absolutely perfect.
“I don’t trust it,” Adam grumbled for the millionth time since this whole mess started.
Eve sat back on her heels and wiped the dirt from her hands. “The planet doesn’t trust us either,” she said softly. “But it’s trying. Don’t you see that?”
Yeah, sure. The planet had been eerily patient with them, as though studying their every move, adjusting itself like a living, breathing organism learning to coexist. But Adam had spotted the strangeness: the way a hill seemed to shift slightly overnight, or how scattered rocks ended up forming patterns that felt almost intentional. Were these changes meant to be gifts? Warnings? Or something far more insidious?
It was like the world itself wasn’t alive but artificial, rearranging itself to please them, to match their unspoken desires. Each shift felt calculated, like a machine fine-tuning its response to their every action. Adam couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t generosity. It was mimicry. Yeah, something mechanical, and hungry, learning from them, adapting to them. Stealing every secret of what it meant to be human.
“Here,” she said, handing him something. “Try this.”
Adam stared at the small, glowing fruit in her palm. Its surface shimmered faintly, as if holding the light of the twin suns.
“Tell me that doesn’t look like a trap,” he said.
Eve sighed. “We’ve been eating what the planet’s been giving us for weeks. What’s different about this one?”
“The difference is… it glows.”
Still, he took it from her hand, the strange warmth of its surface soaking into his fingers like it was alive.
“If you’re scared, you don’t have to eat it,” she said.
“Scared? Not a chance, my little dove.”
He bit into the fruit, the skin snapping under his teeth. Sweet, tangy, unfamiliar flavors washed over his tongue, one after another. It was like kissing a woman. The kind of kiss you get lost in, where the world falls away and all that’s left is her. Adam closed his eyes for a moment.
“Well?” Eve asked.
He smiled, rare and unguarded. “Who knows? Maybe you’ve won me over this time.”
The trees behind them began to move, shifting almost imperceptibly, as if leaning closer. A dozen more of the glowing fruits suddenly sprouted along the branches, as Adam leaned in and kissed Eve.