The garden center opened at 7:00, but the lights came on at 6:30. Vincent arrived at 6:15.
The sky was still gray, caught between moon and sun. Storefronts slept. Sprinklers whispered. Birds argued over fence posts like old men.
Rows of roses and marigolds shimmered under timed misting systems. From the loading zone, an employee emerged and unchained the front gate with tired hands.
Her name was Lena Harrow. Botany lead. Private horticulturist to a now-dead councilman. She cultivated proprietary hybrids to mask narcotics. Everything filed cleanly beneath floral licenses.
The system responded: Target viable. Reward: 210 BP. Complexity: Low. Influence: Political.
Vincent waited in shadow behind a rack of vertical herbs near the mulch bins. He watched her kneel by the spigot and open the valve. Mist touched her skin. Her uniform was bright. Her face, unpainted. Her eyes moved like someone familiar with opening shifts and silence.
There were no cameras. The others wouldn't arrive for forty minutes.
Vincent moved past the compost dome. He ignored the shovel and turned toward the greenhouse kit near the register. Rows of glass vials, insecticides, copper solutions.
One tool stood out.
A five-inch injector designed for treating root rot. Copper-plated. Retractable needle. It rested beside a vial of copper sulfate. Not formulated for humans.
He pocketed the vial. The injector slid into his coat sleeve.
Lena turned and saw him.
"You're early," she said, smiling faintly. "Need something?"
He stepped between the hanging plants.
"Looking for camellias," he replied.
She raised an eyebrow. "Camellias? Not many ask for those before sunrise."
She turned, motioning toward the back row.
He moved.
One hand drew her close at the hip. The other pressed the injector into her neck, between the clavicle and carotid. No blood. Just a mechanical hiss. The chemical vanished into her bloodstream.
Her mouth parted in confusion. No fear. Only surprise.
She collapsed gently into the wet soil beside the basil.
Vincent crouched. Brushed a basil leaf from her cheek. From the nearby cart, he selected a small green tag and placed it beside her body.
The plastic label read: Blight Control.
The system pulsed once. Influence climbed.
Lesson VI: Even gardens bloom from buried things.