18 Floors Above the Apocalypse novel Chapter 504

Seeing Stella's eyes light up at the sight of the artifact, Ivans knew he'd nailed the perfect gift. It was like he'd handed her a treasure more exciting than some ancient relic.

Without hesitation, Stella accepted the challenge. "I'll give it a shot, but no promises on the harvest."

Fair's fair, so she asked Ivans what he wanted in return.

Ivans, a man of simple needs, shrugged. "These things aren't much use to us. If you manage to grow some veggies, just share a bit with us, and we'll call it even."

Stella nodded briskly. "Deal. If I can get these to sprout, we'll split the bounty."

As they parted ways, Ivans couldn't hide his reluctance. "Stella, are you sure you won't consider moving over to our side?"

Her laughter was her goodbye as she waved him off.

After they'd gone, Jasper frowned. "Those Russians are tough cookies. Good thing you released ether in the detention center, making their heads fuzzy enough to think they were seeing things."

Stella felt the same. Considering the Russians had wiped out over ten thousand from the Union Base, they weren't to be underestimated.

"We need to stay sharp from now on."

They moved their new stuff back to their igloo.

Once inside, Rosie spoke with a serious tone, "Brother, sister, someone was tailing us after you left."

Stella wasn't surprised. "Who was it?"

Peering through the spyhole, Rosie had seen everything clearly. "Russians."

Jasper's frown deepened. "Seems they still don't trust us."

They'd sent Ivans to distract them while another team covertly observed from behind.

"It's par for the course," Stella remarked. "As long as they don't mean us harm, they can play their games. We just need to be extra vigilant."

After ten years of catastrophe and constant persecution by the Union Base, paranoia was only natural.

Stella carefully picked up the dragon head, a relic of Australian glory, now just a piece of scrap metal in the wake of disaster. It wouldn't even fetch a handful of potatoes in a trade.

She smiled wryly, caressing the dragon head before tucking it away for safekeeping in Arcadia.

"I'll have to take it slow with the Russians. No use asking outright for the artifacts; that would only raise suspicions."

After a couple of days' rest, they were all feeling better.

Stella's eyes fell on the mischievous couple. "You two, come here."

She wasn't about to let them off the hook just because they acted cute and cuddly.

With a vine in hand, her expression fierce, Stella commanded, "Now, and don't make me repeat myself!"

The punishment was swift and harsh.

While the two whimpered for mercy, the siblings sat on the couch, indifferent to the cries.

Without a word, she grabbed her assault rifle, followed by Jasper and Rosie, who did the same.

Standing like sentinels at the front door, their fierce and piercing gaze spoke volumes.

The newcomers, dressed in white robes and colorful headscarves, grew nervous at the sight, probably thinking, "Is this family off their rocker?"

Eventually, they set up camp about two kilometers away.

With neighbors so close, Stella preferred to stay in, passing time by counting the hairs on her legs out of sheer boredom.

To keep busy, she turned her attention to the hydroponic vegetable kit Ivans had given her, hoping to grow greens even in the Arctic chill.

The warmth of the house, kept above freezing thanks to ample fuel, gave her hope.

Skeptical about the seeds Ivans provided, Stella decided to try some cold-resistant kale and lettuce seeds she'd bought from the Kindle Society down south.

Having had success with hydroponics before, she soaked the seeds in warm water before spreading them in the trays, covering them with a cloth and setting up a heat lamp nearby.

Rosie, helping out, asked, "Sister, can you really grow veggies in the Arctic?"

She had tried with soil, but to no avail.

Stella flashed a warm, reassuring smile. "Absolutely, we've had teams before who've managed to cultivate crops successfully."

Gardening was a piece of cake; the real challenge lay in the capricious temperament of the climate. The swings in temperature were vast, and it would take a steady hand and a patient heart to fine-tune the technical parameters. But she was brimming with the quiet confidence of a seasoned gardener ready to commune with nature, no matter how unpredictable it might be.