He rubbed the apple on his tunic as he walked, admiring the shine before biting into it.
"Yellow Delicious," Justin announced, "my favorite."
"We grow half a dozen varieties here. There's another deck for subtropical fruit and one for tropical. Some wonderful blends come out of them."
"Blends?"
"You'll see."
"Ah, Brother, our shipment has it arrived?"
Justin saw an elderly monk rolling towards them on a power chair through a narrow pathway in the orchard.
"Yes, Brother Abbot, all safe and sound."
"Good, very good."
Bartholomew introduced them. Tanya was awed when the abbot, discovering her lineage, announced that he had been introduced to her great-grandfather when he had visited the old Soviet Union as a boy.
" A school group from Maine, oh, back let's see now back in 1986 it was. We went over there and met him at a conference. I'll never forget him. Funny, hope you don't take offense but he looked just like a comedy actor from long ago though the name of the three in that group escapes me."
The abbot laughed. "When you reach my age such things do tend to drift. We were all honored to meet your great-grandfather, just as I'm honored to meet you carrying on the family tradition."
Justin was surprised when Tanya bowed and asked for the monk's blessing. Justin shook his hand and the monk rolled on.
"Well over a hundred and still going strong," Bartholomew announced. "Space is good for folks like him." Justin looked back at a group working in the orchard and noticed that a number of the monks seemed quite old.
"A lot of men, when they reach their later years, they look for lives of contemplation," Bartholomew said, as if reading Justin's thoughts.
The monk smiled and looked over at Tanya, who was walking several paces ahead, and then back at the young cadet. "Once you hit eighty some of the distractions of youth are at last behind you."
Justin felt himself blushing, wondering if Bartholomew knew about the inner turmoil she was creating.
"So that's why our orbital monasteries are flourishing. More than a thousand monks on this one alone. We have several thousand others living here, too, lay brothers and sisters we call them. They are mostly part of our geriatric care center, which is our service to humanity since we are, after all, a serving brotherhood. Some of our residents were born as far back as 1950 and are still spry and fit. Low gravity is indeed a blessing.
"We lead a simple life prayer, tending our gardens, helping our patients. Our food is plain but there are a few indulgences we do allow."
He stopped and pointed towards a door that was nearly concealed under a rose-covered trellis. As he opened the door a rich heady aroma wafted out.
"Our distillery," Bartholomew announced. "Finest apple brandy in Earth orbit comes out of here. That's what you're carrying, spare parts; we were on our last backup for a few things and getting worried. Old Thorsson came through for us though, with this little emergency shipment."
A knot of monks gathered around the group as they came through the door. Eager hands grabbed the canisters carried by Justin and Tanya and the men scurried off, weaving through a line of vats and into a back room.
"Apple brandy, peach brandy, a few new concoctions we've cooked up from our tropical blends." Bartholomew led them over to a wooden table and motioned for them to be seated. A monk came up to them, bearing three small glasses and half a dozen flasks.
Bartholomew took one of the metal containers. He uncorked it, sniffed the contents, smiled and poured'out three minute samplings.
"Ah, sir, we're on duty and, well, sir," Tanya announced, "I don't think we should."
"Old Thorsson said it was all right as long as I didn't get any of you soused before dinner. Thorny and I go back a ways. I was his commander once."
The two looked at him, incredulous.
"Certainly was. Back aboard the Celestial Beagle on the run to Jupiter. Not all of us monks are as boring as you might think. Brother Abbot there was an out-and-out United States Marine, fought in three wars. Flew in the First and Second Gulf Wars. Old tradition in the church, warriors taking to the cloister late in life. We're seeing a lot more of that, with so many folks living to be ninety, a hundred or more and still fit and active. Taking vows and coming out here to space has a certain appeal. Like I said, it's an old tradition, not just with us but with the Buddhists as well. I went to visit one of their Zen colonies last year; beautiful place their zero-gravity gardens are a wonder.
"You see, long ago monasteries both East and West were places of retreat, but that's hard to find in the modem world. Out here in space though, well, we have the whole universe to find the solitude and peace we desire as we search for the eternal. As you young cadets finally embark for the stars, the monasteries will not be far behind."
Bartholomew nodded towards the glasses.
"So, anyhow, a cadet's expected to hold his own when the occasion arises."
Having tasted brandy before, Justin accepted the glass. He swirled the contents around, sniffing them, then allowed a tiny sample to dance on his tongue.
"Delightful," he exclaimed, "better than grandpa's own stuff that we make on the farm.".
Tanya looked at the two hesitantly. Then, not to be outmatched, she downed hers as well, coughing hard after trying to take it all in one gulp.
Bartholomew laughed.
"Just like a Russian," he chortled. "One shot down the hatch."
An hour later the three stepped back out into the hallway.
"Now, you two children know your way back, don't you?"
"Sure, Brother," Justin replied.
"Take care, my friends. It was an honor to entertain you. And be sure to personally deliver that package."
Justin patted the box under his arm and nodded.
"The pleasure was all ours," Justin announced.
Justin waved cheerfully and motioned for Tanya to follow. She shook her head ruefully as she fell in by his side.
"I think you're slightly potzed," she said disdainfully.
"Nonsense. Blood alcohol of point zero two you saw him check us."
"Well, you're certainly no Russian, Justin. Point zero two wouldn't have one of us weaving like you are."
"Hey, us Hoosiers invented applejack. Why, Johnny Appleseed himself planted our orchard."
"Johnny who?"
"Oh, never mind. Wish I knew what was in this box." Justin held the box up and shook it, then tucked it back under his arm while letting his other arm drift around Tanya's waist.
"That's for Commander Thorsson, so don't go playing around with it. And Mr. Bell watch that other hand of yours as well."
She reached around and removed Justin's hand from her waist, and with a snort of displeasure motioned for him to speed up his pace.
Justin sighed, not sure if the drinks had indeed gone to his head or if he was simply using them as an excuse to try and put his arm around Tanya. Dutifully he fell in behind her, troubled again by her presence. The situation was made worse by the fact that the monks had opened up the shutters overhead, letting the sunlight stream in on the orchard. It created a strange effect the rotation of the ship caused the sun to rise and set every two minutes so that shadows raced across the ground. Sprinklers set both in the ground and overhead had been turned on and a gentle mist floated in the air, catching the shifting light so that the air seemed to sparkle. The moisture enhanced the ability of the air to carry scent, and every breath was rich with the fragrance of apples and an elusive trace of something that Justin knew was Tanya's perfume.
Without waiting for him she stepped into the corridor leading back to the zero-gravity core, but as she passed the doorway into the cathedral she paused and then stepped in. Justin followed her and was surprised to see her kneeling in the corridor, head bowed in prayer. Ashamed of what he had been thinking, he looked away in confusion. He saw a monk looking over at him, smiling gently, and realized the monk had seen him watching Tanya. The monk shrugged his shoulders, as if in sympathy and understanding. Justin smiled in return at the simple gesture which so eloquently summed up his own confusion.