Morbus held his transit card against the ser. The double beep sounded, and the gate opened.

  Behind him, he heard the metro depart from the ptform, deep iunnels of the undergrouwork.

  It was quiet te on Wednesday m. There weren't many people at the station, and the rush of the m uters had already passed.

  He g a clo the wall: 11:10.

  The metro took just under half an hour to reach the other side of the city. He had spent the entire ride staring out of the window instead of eating the muesli bars, trying to process not just this m but also the st 48 hours. The iion with Mora, the frontation with his father, the mood swings, and the cold bloom.

  It actually feels as if the day is almost over.

  Iro, he'd beehinking the reason why he was doing this for his father. It definitely wasn't out of passion or pity. But what else? Was it a sile against the CCB? Or just an excuse to see a different part of the city for once? But no matter how many reasohought of, no one resonated with him.

  Right now, it was as if aernal force was trolling his as.

  He walked up the stairs and emerged above ground. The east part of Aquinox was pletely different from the Sce district. This had been a residential area before the disaster. Large neighborhoods with apartment blocks and few businesses or offices. Many of the houses were vat and unused due to the massive popution decrease. Until President Previs came to power. He devoted the entire east part of the city to agriculture. But this wasn't the only source where the citizens got their food. Beh the city tre were underground food boratories where food was grown artificially. 'To make sure we have enough in years of low harvests,' the president had said.

  Morbus wandered down the wide street—where cars had once sped by—and observed how the houses around him had been altered. Many had added extra cs to their walls. Farmers worked hard o roofs, which had been transformed into beds of fertile soil. Wooden bridges and rope strus ected all the roofs to each other. Former homes with rge windows were used as greenhouses. But other apartment blocks had been ftteo the ground. crete foundations had turned inte fields of crops—all carefully tended and maintained.

  A man with a rge rake on a roof waved when he saw Morbus walking by. Morbus waved back.

  The people here are very ected to each other. If I meet someohey'll probably want to chat.

  He turhe er of the street and came to another main road.

  Here, it was even more rundown thahe metro exit. No house was still standing. Their roofs had been removed, leaving only the half-ruined walls of the ground floors. In the middle of the walls, young oak and birch trees grew.

  Morbus was about to check Maps to see how far it was, when he saw a rge parking lot on the right, with a big building behind it that had the text Laboratory friculture on it.

  Bingo.

  He stepped off the street and crossed the rge parking lot. Even in this open space, all the cars had been removed and recycled—Previs saw no longer any purpose for them. The asphalt had been removed with biting acid, revealing the grouh, which had suffered for decades uhe suppression of nature-exploiting humans. This nd had healed quickly and was now used for soil restoration and ter for permaculture—eive agriculture.

  He arrived at a gss manual revolving door aered.

  Inside, he stood on a white-tiled floor and looked straight ahead at the reception. Two hallways exteo either side of him, leading further into the building. At the back, there were staircases on both sides, elegantly curling upward.

  What had once been a uy had now been verted into a biological research ter for pnts and natural substahis was also where the regeive agricultural school was located, where young people learned how to i with nature, just like he had learned how to handle formus at his own school.

  He walked up to the ter. A lean man with an elongated fad hippie hair smiled at him.

  "Good m," said Morbus. "I'm looking for Misabelle. A friend or hers sent me."

  "Sure," said Hippie. "One moment." He grabbed his phone and put it to his ear. "Hey Misa," he said. "Someone downstairs wants to talk to you." He listened briefly to the voi the other end, then hahe phoo Morbus. "Here."

  Morbus held the phoo his ear. "Hi," came a soft, light-colored voi the other end. "May I ask who you are?"

  "My name is Morbus," he said. "I have a father who is very sick. His home nurse, Lia, told me I could e to you to see if maybe you could—"

  "Ah, Lia," Misabelle interrupted. She whispered into the phone. "Let me guess: cold bloom."

  Bullseye.

  "That's right. Lia gave me..." He was careful not to mention the disease's name aloud. "...a sample of his blood. My question is whether you'd be willing to analyze it and see if anything be done."

  Misabelle sounded super excited. "Oh, I 't wait!" she said. Her voice returo normal. "One moment, Morbus, I'll be down in a bit. We'll talk more then." She hung up immediately.

  Morbus hahe phone back to Hippie. "She'll be down soon," he said.

  "Great." Hippie oward a passage behind the ter, leading to another room. "You wait in the cafeteria," he said. "You'll see her there."

  Morbus followed the dire and arrived at the cafeteria: a small pub-like room full of old wooden furniture, with no one else present. On the left side, there was a long bar with racks of gsses, bottles, and drinks behind it, and at the very back a white door with round holes, clearly leading to the kit.

  The entire back wall held a life-sized window that looked out onto the most beautiful garden he had ever seen. Crops and flowers were carefully arranged in circur and spiral-shaped beds, surrounded by woodchip paths. The sun shone brightly, to the be of the busy is flitting from flower to flower.

  He walked closer to the window to get a better look.

  These people really know what they're doing.

  "Morbus?"

  He was so absorbed by the se that he hadn't noticed someoering the empty cafeteria. He turned around and saw who the voice beloo. A brown-haired girl he knew very well.

  "What are you doing here?" asked Mora, both surprised and happy.

  Morbus tried to ighe nervous flutter in his stomad stay as calm as possible.

  "What are you doing here?" he replied, needing a moment to think about what to say to her.

  "I'm here for lunch," she said, making a smooth gesture toward the menu above the cafeteria. "It's self-service here."

  I 't think straight with her voi my head.

  Mora looked at him again. "My mother works here," she expined. "Every Wednesday, I e to help the farmers a bit. Volunteer work, you could say. One of my biggest hobbies." She crossed her arms. "And now you. I've never seen you here before."

  Morbus cleared his throat.

  "I have an appoi with someone here," he said quickly. "It's an emergency."

  Mave him a puzzled look. Morbus had to think for a moment about how much he should tell her.

  If I mention the cold bloom, I'm done. She'll call Ma and my father will end up in the CCB.

  "My father is seriously ill," he expined. "Our home care knows someone here who might know a cure."

  "What's wrong with him?" she asked.

  Shit.

  "She doesn't kly either," he lied. "She just didn't want to send him to the hospital but to this pce for alternative treatment."

  Mora stayed silent for a moment.

  I think she believes me.

  "Was that why you were so dowerday?"

  Morbus hesitated and nodded. "It e quite a bit. Father was lying in bed asleep and didn't want to wake up." He remained silent about the rest.

  "Why didn't you just say that?"

  Morbus felt warm as he thought about how he could talk his way out of this.

  "L-look... It's plicated, okay? I... I..."

  A third persoered the room behind Mora—a tall woman with a huge blonde ponytai wearing a white b coat and blue denim jeans. Her presence made the room feel a little lighter. As if he had been rescued from this situation.

  "Hey," her cheerful voice rang out, not particurly aimed at anyone.

  The same voice as on the phohat must be Misabelle.

  Mora turned around. "Hey, Mom, are you ing for lunch too?" she asked.

  Mom?

  "No, I'm here for someohe woman said. She looked at him. "Are you Morbus?"

  Before Morbus could answer, Mora spoke up. "No way," she said, almost ughing. "You're here for him?"

  Misabelle looked surprised at the girl who arently her daughter.

  She really doesn't look anything like her.

  "Morbus is in my css," Mora quickly expined. "We get along really well."

  Morbus couldn't suppress a blush.

  Misabelle let out a small ugh. "Ah, what a small world. Wele, Morbus. Mora's friends are my friends too." They shook hands.

  Morbus took the small vial with his father's cold bloom in it from his pocket. "So," he began. "This is his sample," he said without naming the bacterium. "Would you please take a look at it?"

  "Oh, of course, I already said I would." Far too enthusiastically, she grabbed the vial from his hands. "Finally. Cold bloom."

  Morbus felt even colder than the disease itself when she said the name.

  Mora's mouth dropped open. "I-is... Has your father..." she stammered.

  Morbus looked down at the floor. It was now impossible to deny.

  "Our home care worker didn't want to send him to the CCB," he expined. "She doesn't trust those people there."

  "Hell right they are," Misabelle added. "Shady things happen there."

  Now it was Morbus's turn for his mouth to drop open. "So you know what they do there?"

  "Kind of." Misabelle held the vial up to her fad studied it closely. "They have the monopoly on cold bloom samples. No other research ter or boratory outside the CCB has the data to iigate what the disease actually is. But that will finally ge starting today."

  Mora remained silent. She seemed to agree with her mother. Morbus trusted that she wouldn't report his father.

  "I'm going to start right away," said Misabelle, her eyes sparkling like pearls. "We don't know how much time we have left, and I need answers. Wait here, Morbus, I'll take it to the b. See you soon." Without waiting for his response, she hurried out of the cafeteria. Morbus heard her march up the stairs in the hall.

  Such discipline.

  Now he was alone again with Mora.

  "Do you want to grab something to eat together?" she asked. "We're both here now, and you have to wait anyway." She took the ration cards out of her pocket and pyfully waved them in front of his face. "It's on me."

  I 't say no to that. Eveer than those muesli bars.

  With his mouth watering, he looked at the menu.

  * * *

  When Morbus had finished his burrito, he leaned back against the fortable wall bench. An hour had passed, the break was over, and except for them, there was no one else left in the cafeteria. Meanwhile, the i life in the garden had only increased.

  Genius, this window here. With such a view, you don't want to leave.

  "How was it?" Mora asked, curious.

  She had sat o him on the bend had finished her lunch as well.

  "Tastes great," Morbus said. "But what I don't uand: why is everything self-service here?" He thought about how they had just been i to make their own lunch.

  "They work with trust here," Mora expined. "They believe that people holy put the ration cards in the box and leave the kit after use. Also, there's a staff she."

  "But who stocks the fridge then?"

  "Once a week, they bring new supplies to all the cafeterias in this building. Depending on what the harvest is, they decide what they make and freeze it. Based on that, they also adjust the menu every week."

  Morbus rubbed his . Iihod.

  "And no one's stealing?" he asked.

  Mora shrugged. "Why would they? There's more than enough."

  How ironic. Such a thing was unthinkable in the past.

  "And if it wasn't a good method, they'd have stopped doing it long ago," Mora tinued. "They say that distrust is what leads people to steal, so they try to 'ge the story' people are living in, as they call it."

  Maybe there's some truth to that.

  Mora stood up and stacked their ptes. "We don't even have to do the dishes. We have maes for that." She picked up the ptes and disappeared through the kit doors.

  During lunch, Morbus had told her everything that had happehat m. Of course, he had left out his father's abuse, as well as his memory loss. Mora had listeo him attentively.

  "You see it more and more," she had said afterward. "Those cold bloom cases. I'm really worried."

  Like her mother, she posed to the Cd didn't trust what they did with the patients there. "If they don't even give a prognosis for the disease," she'd reasoned. "How they call themselves reliable?"

  Morbus thought it was a good point. "Also the fact that they don't answer any media questions," he had said. "Denial behavior at its core."

  Mora came out of the kit with two gsses and something that looked like a bottle of lemonade.

  "Do you want some?" she asked.

  "What's this?"

  Mora smiled mysteriously. "Fermented juice from an a mushroom. Works healing all over your body."

  Morbus squinted. "How do I know it's not alcohol?"

  "No alcohol. Just strong and sour. But an iron stomach is required," she said, ughing pyfully.

  Mora set the gsses oable and poured the red-yellow liquid for herself. She held the bottle above the ss and looked at him expetly.

  Morbus shrugged. "Fine, go ahead."

  She filled his gss and sat back dowo him.

  Just like apple juice.

  "My mom has it at home too," she whispered. "But hers isn't as good as this one." She took a big sip.

  Morbus grabbed the gss and was about to taste it when Misabelle came rushing into the cafeteria. As soon as she saw them, a somewhat tired smile appeared on her face.

  Speak of the devil.

  "Oh, guys," she said jubintly. "I've made the discovery of the tury."

  When no one responded, she began her report.

  "Cold bloom is a pletely unknown type of bacteria. They have an unusual cell membrane, and their mitodria operate by—"

  Mora sighed. "Mom, please. I don't have school today. Spare me the details."

  "Oh, sorry," said Misabelle awkwardly.

  "Could you maybe say something that our ears actually tolerate?" Mora asked.

  Misabelle triumphantly raised the tube with the cold bloom in it, as if it were a wine gss she was toasting with. "I certainly do that. Turns out it's actually curable."

  Morbus couldn't believe his ears.

  "When I looked at the bacteria uhe microscope, I saw after a little fiddling that they 't withstaain antibodies. They don't st long when they e into tact with the sap of the eluminashroom."

  The what?

  "The eluminashroom," Misabelle repeated as if it were a magic spell, "It is a rare fungus that only grows in the Marsh to the north of Aquinox, he wooded border of Asroes. It's just that I've just used my st stock, so I'll o get more to make an antidote."

  A dead silence fell over the cafeteria.

  It really is mushroom day today.

  "So with the sap from that mushroom, you cure my father?" Morbus asked. "And the people from the CCB hadn't tried that yet?"

  "Haha," Misabelle scoffed. "Those idiots hardly know anything about old-fashioned medie." She licked her lips. "The sap of this fungus is a very effective cure for various other ailments too. That's why I tried it as one of the first things. With effect."

  Mora took another sip of her gss. "Besides, if they had already found an antidote, they wouldn't be hiding in their holes like scared rabbits," she reasoned. "They only think in industrial remedies, and not natural ones like this."

  "So cold bloom is curable?" Morbus said more to himself than to her. "Something that stists have been scratg their heads over for a long time be fought with one simple mushroom?"

  "Exactly," Misabelle said half-singing. "Suits the ter for plete Bastards."

  Morbus had no appetite for the mysterious drink that Mora had served him. Another mushroom had outpeted it.

  " you imagine? I already see the media headlines," Misabelle said with sparks in her eyes. "Lab friculture develops antidote for polystyrene bacteria. Unnecessary taboo melts away, CCB exposed: how a bunch of idiots 't do anything." She burst into a fit of ughter. It was loud and tagious. Mora and Morbus ughed along.

  "Ah, well," Misabelle said when she was done ughing. "That antidote is ing. The soohe better. That's why I'm going to the Marsh tonight to find that mushroom." She looked at Morbus. "Morbus, would you like to e with me?"

  Me?

  "Only if you and want to," she said, c herself. "I mean, I owe this incredible discovery to you. Besides, I like the pany..."

  Morbus felt shy. "But.. that's outside the city..."

  "Don't worry, I've got a permit," Misabelle assured him. "I've been there often to collegredients for different herbal remedies. I know the area like the bay hand."

  "Uhm, I e too?" Mora asked as she stood up from the couch.

  Misabelle's cheerful energy vanished instantly. "No way. I don't want you outside of Aquinox."

  "And Morbus is fine?"

  "It's his father who needs it," she snapped. "Besides, he—"

  "Now, that's reasonable," she protested. "As if it's so normal that Dad—"

  "MORA," Misabelle said sharply. "Please, honey. Not now."

  Mora plopped back down like a pudding. "Okay, okay," she sighed angrily.

  Misabelle crouched o her. "Hey, don't worry. Two people really hahis task. We'll be back safe and sound."

  "Sure," she said sulkily. "Just like Dad would've been if only he hadn't goside the Walls."

  Misabelle sighed. "Look. I know you're still upset about it. I am too and I miss him every day. I try to think about it how he could still be with us... and..."

  Her voice died away. Dead silence remainend.

  "Mora."

  The sound had e out of Morbus's mouth before he'd noticed it. The girl spun her head around and stared at him.

  Morbus discovered that he felt very calm, unlike his previous versations with her. His heart remaieady, and he felt warm words rising in his throat.

  "Hey," he said, while log his gaze with her. "We yoink that mushroom and e back. Your mom and I. It's nothing."

  "Nothing at all," Misabelle repeated him.

  Mora nodded shyly.

  "Besides, we'll see each ain on Saturday," Morbus said.

  That seemed to cheer Mora up a little. "True..."

  Misabelle looked surprised. "Saturday? Are you two—"

  Mora turned bright red. "Morbus is going to help me with math," she said quickly. "He knows everything."

  "Well, everything..." Morbus mumbled.

  "Oh, nice," Misabelle said cheerfully. "I'm sure you'll get along great."

  Is she saying that sarcastically?

  "But practically, Morbus." Misabelle stood in front of him. "Tonight, I want to leave, if that's okay with you. Preferably as early as possible, so we're back before dark. Meet at the northeast gate at seven?"

  "Fine," Morbus said. "I think I'll be doing by then."

  "Great," Misabelle cheered. "Oh, I'm so excited. Finally, ao the c-" She caught herself just as a few people ehe cafeteria to get a drink.

  That was close.

  "Oops," Misabelle said softly. "Well, I think we've talked enough now, and they'll miss me upstairs in the b." She walked to the exit of the cafeteria and turned around o time. "I'll see you tonight, Morbus. Until then."

  "Yeah, until then," Morbus called after her sheepishly.

  Holy shit. I'm actually going outside the Walls...

  He found the idea both exg and scary at the same time. Maybe even more exg than the girl sittio him.

  "Don't want your drink anymore?" she asked, while pointing at his gss.

  "I'm not thirsty anymore," he said. He stood up. "I think I'll head home now. I want to look up some stuff about that cold bloom." He mumbled the st word so the people who had just e in wouldn't hear.

  "Ah, okay. I'll take care of yss."

  Morbus stood up. "Thanks."

  But just as he was about to leave, she called him.

  "M-Morbus?"

  He turo her. "Mhm?"

  "Before you l-leave, could you promise me ohing?"

  "Sure."

  Mora looked down, then looked back at him. Her gaze peed deep into his heart.

  "Please e back."

  For a moment, Morbus was more ented by her perfect browhan by her words. Maybe it was this what caused him to not fully grasp her question's depth.

  Morbus nodded. "Promised."