As the class trickled through the airlock, Thomas examined the slab. There were chiselled letters on it, but so weathered away he could barely make them out. They read: “[i]Stat rosa pristina nomine, nomen nudum tenemus[/i]”.

“Sir?” Thomas asked the teacher. “What does the sentence on the stone mean?”

The teacher glanced at the slab before smiling at Thomas. “Why don’t you ask the guide? He’s waiting for us on the other side.” He ruffled Thomas’s hair and gently pushed him ahead.

Everything was different beyond the airlock. The light was brighter. Thomas blinked several times to adjust, but even then it was difficult not to squint. The air was strange as well. It carried wafts of a familiar pungent smell, but mixed with subtle fragrances unknown to him.

The teacher walked to the guide. They shook hands and exchanged a few inaudible words. The guide then turned to the class. 

“Welcome to the botanical garden,” she said. “Does anyone know what a botanical garden is?”

Thomas stifled the urge to raise his hand. When no one answered, the teacher said: “Thomas?”

Thomas winced. He hated to be the teacher’s pet. “A place where people grow plants”, he answered. “And… flowers!” he trumpeted.

Paul elbowed him in the ribs. “Stop taking rubbish”, he growled. Thomas glared back at his friend. “I–“

“Yes, flowers!” the guide interrupted. “I’m surprised you know the name. Have you ever seen one?” 

Thomas nodded.

“He’s Professor Johns’s son,” the teacher explained.

“Oh! I see,” the guide said. “Follow me.”

They set out along a well kept dirt path meandering through a hilly meadow. The light pouring from the ceiling was still harsh and aggressive. Thomas asked the teacher why. “Plants needs stronger light to grow,” he explained. “They need sunlight. So we have to recreate it.”

At that very moment, they crested a mound, and a row of bushes came into view down below. The children let out a choral “wow!” and rushed ahead, only to stop short when they realised the bushes were thorny. The guide approached, gingerly took hold of one of the branches. It bore at its end a mysterious red ball-like growth. Bending it towards the ground, “Who would like to smell this flower?” she asked.

“Me!” “Me!” “Me!” a dozen of voices answered together.

“Oh, so sweet!” Nancy exclaimed, as she was the first to stick her nose into the flower. She was followed by all the other pupils in turn.

Except Thomas.

“Thomas?” the teacher asked. “You don’t want to smell the—“ He faltered, turning to the guide for help.

“Tulip,” she concluded.

“That’s not a tulip!” Thomas protested. “I’ve already seen one in my dad’s lab. He said it was a rose.”

The guide smiled. “Look my boy, I have much respect for your dad’s work, but it’s a tulip, not a rose.”

“No!” Thomas shook his head and glared at the guide. “You’re wrong, that’s a [i]rose[/i].”

“And from what evidence does your father derive his taxonomy?” the guide snapped.

Thomas whimpered, ever so slightly. Everyone turned to him. He put his hands over his face and started to snuffle.

“I’m sorry,” the guide relented, walking to the boy and kneeling before him. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. But almost everything we knew has been lost during the war, and every seed mangled by radioactivity. Our knowledge is just… assumptions,” she explained in a soft voice.

Thomas did not answer.

“Anyway,” the guide carried on. She walked to a nearby wicker basket, and pulled out another “tulip-rose” out of it. “What day is it today?” she asked.

“Valentine’s day!” Lucy almost screamed.

“And you know what we do for Valentine’s day?”

“We give a present to the person we love the most,” Lucy carried on.

“Right! So here is a flower for each of you. You can give it to your special someone. It will make for a very special gift!”

The teacher lined up all the children, butThomas wouldn’t budge. He stood at the edge of path, hunching over and sobbing.

The guide winked at the teacher, then walked to Thomas. She kissed him on his hair. “Thomas?” she called softly. 

And as the boy slowly raised his head, she extended her arm and offered him her flower.