The Harvest (11 page)

After our tour, we board the tram again. My father waves me toward a seat next to him and waits as the local council members assemble around him.

“I know we have a formal meeting after my speech, but I'd like to hear from you now, before I face the crowd. What's the situation in Windy Pines?” Philip leans forward, his hands clasped. The picture of the engaged politician. Clarisse clears her throat.

“Missing cargo and assorted equipment, citizens not showing up for work, a few disappearing entirely.” My father nods, and I follow suit, doing my best to look attentive rather than desperate for information. I wonder why my father is allowing me to hear this. I can feel the watchfulness emanating from Aulion, telling me he's none too happy, that he doesn't trust me for one second.

“We understand there are similar troubles at the Farms,” Lyle speaks up, looking me dead in the eye. “And after that video footage last night, people are wondering—”

“That footage was staged,” my father interrupts. “Surely even you could tell from the video quality. Set up like a bad monster movie meant to scare little children in their beds at night. None of you were taken in, were you?” He surveys the group's faces. Several council members shift uncomfortably.

“Clarisse, how many Windy Pines workers have left?”

“Twenty-one.”

“Twenty-one?” I can tell my father is surprised, though he tries not to show it.

“And more have walked off the job, or tried to walk off, but were caught.”

“Where are they being detained?” Philip says.

Detained? That's illegal
. I recall the line from the Code of Citizenship: No citizen is bound to the Sector, nor can any citizen be prosecuted or punished for abandoning the Sector.

“They're not.” Clarissa's gaze flits across the faces of the other council members. She meets Lyle's gaze and then turns back to my father. “It's against the Code.”

My father draws in a breath. “You know as well as I do the Code was modified after the SRI massacre and after certain board members began disappearing.”

I keep my face neutral, but inside I'm reeling.
Modified?
How?
Why wasn't there a public announcement? Why wasn't I ever told? No one mentioned it, even during my officer's training.

“In truth, detention was proposed,” Lyle says. “I vetoed the proposition.”

My father turns toward him. “I issued an executive order regarding detention of suspected Outsider or Resistance sympathizers, did I not?” His voice is tight. I can hear his teeth grind.

“Yes,” Clarisse says. “But by the governing laws of Windy Pines, and indeed all Sector towns as
you
well know, we were required to accept Lyle's veto. Such a drastic step, even in the wake of an executive order, must be adopted by unanimous approval of each town council.”

There's a moment of deep and uncomfortable silence. My father stands, and I follow suit. Aulion doesn't budge. “Then you defied a direct order from my desk,” my father says finally. He looks at Lyle who blanches in the face of the chancellor's withering stare. “Your directive as council members is to do everything in your power to work against the Resistance and their Outsider agitators, and yet you have chosen to do exactly the opposite. This is not simply a matter of arresting a shoplifter. This is a matter of state security. By allowing these people to walk away from their jobs, to walk away from Windy Pines, you are allowing them to walk directly into the waiting arms of those seeking to undermine the Sector.” My father takes a step toward Lyle. The guards, sensing what's about to happen, place their hands on their weapons. “By my
Executive Order
”—he almost spits the words—“ you are summarily dismissed from your position as councilman.” He turns to Aulion. “Arrest him.”

The other council members are on their feet, a tumult of voices protesting all at once.

“On what charge?” Lyle says, his eyes wide.

“Aiding and abetting the enemy.”

General Aulion only has to nod once, before two of the guards who joined us at the landing pad sweep over to Lyle's side, pull his hands behind his back, and slap a pair of magnetic cuffs around his wrists.

“What the hell?” He tries to twist away.

“Chancellor—” Clarisse starts.

“This is ridiculous!” another council member interrupts, trying to push in between the guards and Lyle. “This isn't proper procedure. You can't arrest him for vetoing an illegal proposition, you—”

“I am perfectly within my bounds,” my father says, without raising his voice. “The charge stands, and I can assure you that he will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.” He slaps the red button labeled
Emergency Stop
and we all tip slightly off balance as the tram comes to an abrupt stop. “Get him out of my sight.”

At a nod from Aulion, the guards pull Lyle off the tram where he loses his balance and falls to his knees. They yank him to his feet, although he's no longer putting up a fight. The doors slide closed behind them, and the tram starts moving again. I turn back to look at the shell-shocked expressions on the other politicians' faces.

“Now, let's make this clear,” Philip says, sitting down again and leaning back. “Anyone who assists the cause of the Resistance will face the immediate wrath of Sector leadership.”

Everyone nods vigorously and no one says another word. I sink down into the seat beside my father. We must not have been far from our destination, because the tram slows. The doors open, and I follow my father and Aulion up some stairs into the town hall. All three of my guards are right on my heels.

“The citizens are assembled in the town square,” Clarisse says, her voice shaky, as she steps ahead to lead us through the building. “We'll go out front where we've set up a stage on the steps.”

“Excellent,” my father says, all trace of his anger gone.

Clarisse continues. “We asked every able-bodied citizen not working today to attend, so you should have quite a crowd.”

My father turns to me. “Vale, are you ready for your big appearance?”

I nod.
What do you want me to say, Dad?

“Good. I'll open with a few words and turn it over to you. They're going to love you, Vale.”

He's the golden boy.
Eli's words to Soren.
Our ace in the hole
. I'd overheard them talking as Eli made the case for trusting me, for allowing me to be a part of their plans. I have to stop myself from smiling when I remember Soren's response.
More like asshole
. Seems like an age ago, even though it's only been a few months. I grit my teeth and wish the words I have to speak today were my own, instead of the lies my parents have written for me.

I follow my father and Clarisse through a broad set of double doors, out into the blinding sunlight under a cloudless sky. We're on a small stage surrounded by several thousand citizens, all with their eyes trained on us. I wait for my own eyes to adjust, and then squint out at the crowd. Curious, but neutral faces. Careful faces. Not the adoring crowds my father is used to addressing.

“Citizens of Windy Pines!” my father says, waving his arms in a welcoming gesture as if he'd just invited everyone over to the chancellor's house for a picnic. A roar rolls through the crowd in response, mostly shouts of approval and applause, but there are a few stoic faces, set jaws, crossed arms. “Thank you so much for coming out today. I know many of you are giving up precious free time to be here, and my heart is gladdened by your presence.”

I catch a flash of red in motion in the crowd, and I startle, trying to follow its movement without being obvious.

“Today, I come to speak of dark and dangerous times ahead. You know about the threats that lurk at our borders, the terrorists and the Outsiders who oppose our way of life, who would steal our food, our wealth, our
freedom
, right out from under our noses. Since our founding mothers and fathers dedicated themselves to the Okarian Sector, our citizens have worked hard to be
free
from fear,
free
from want,
free
from war. But, as you know, the terrorists have proven themselves capable of taking the very things we hold most dear.” He turns, opens his arm to me, and I step forward right on cue. “They took my own son from me,” he says with a heaviness in his voice.

This time the crowd's reaction is louder and fists pump the air along with shouts of “Destroy the Resistance!” and “Traitors!” from the true believers standing right down front. I take it all in and then catch another flash of red, this time in a different part of the crowd, further back, to the right.
What is that?

“Valerian,” Demeter whispers in my ear. “Listen, I've got Eli …”

“Though we have made significant progress in destroying Resistance bases and shutting down their networks, there is still work to be done before this cancer is eliminated. Members of the Resistance are dangerous, not because they are
not
like us, but precisely because they are, in so many ways,
just
like us. They were once our friends and colleagues, but now they have subverted the very principles upon which our small nation was founded. Principles that have kept us safe and secure in troubled times. Now, we are at a turning point in our efforts to crush them once and for all. My fellow citizens, the Resistance is desperate.”

“Vale? Vale, are you there?” In my ear, I hear the unmistakable voice of Elijah Tawfiq. All the practice in stoicism I've had in captivity can't prevent me from sucking in a breath, from letting my eyes go wide, letting the excitement show on my face. Always at my side, I feel Aulion's gaze burning through me like a laser. I exhale, force myself to relax, and focus on my father.

“He's tuned in, Eli,” Demeter says. “He can't respond, but you can speak all you want. Go ahead.”

“And in their desperation,” my father goes on, “they are taking risks, making mistakes that make them vulnerable to detection. That is why we are here today. To ask you to join the fight.”

“Vale, listen to me,” Eli says. “Demeter's filled me in about your situation. Here's what you need to know. We're not producing as many seeds as we hoped, and distribution has been a bear—ha! Bear, get it?—anyway, we've got some good news. We've stolen another 3D printer and we've figured out how to print actual food. We've got one printer on seeds and one on food. Rhinehouse is working twenty-four-seven and is one grumpy son of a bitch, but what's new? Production isn't ideal, we can't do it in high volume, and it's no substitute for growing from scratch, but we don't have time to cultivate the printed seeds en masse. We're printing as much food as we can and shipping it out as fast as we can. Bear is our point man on the Farms. He's working with Zeke's team to infiltrate existing supply routes between factory towns and Farms. It's slow going, but it's progress. ”

Philip steps forward to the edge of the stage. “To ask you, my friends, to watch for infiltrators within our communities. Infiltrators like Jeremiah Sayyid who kidnapped my son. It is up to each one of us to be vigilant against traitors in our very midst. We must not let a few disillusioned radicals undermine the Okarian Sector.”

“I've got more good news,” Eli says, his words tumbling out in near-breathless excitement. “Our little Bear has been busy. Hell, he's a fucking
grizzly
. He's got teams assembled on all the Farms and between him and Zeke, shit is getting real. People disappearing, walking off the job, civil disobedience … I mean, that boy is a talker. And every time he opens his mouth, somebody falls in love with him. Who knew, right?”

“My friends, I am here today to tell you that we are in the final stretch, that we are close to victory. My son, Valerian Orleán”—my father turns toward me with a proud look on his face—“who heroically escaped captivity to return to us, is preparing to lead an all-out assault on the last remnants of this terrorist network.”

Lead an all-out assault?
The words ring in my head as I see another flash of red. And another. I catch glimpses, out of the corner of my eye, of fabric leaping from palm to palm, as crimson and bright as fresh-spilled blood.

Red in the morning, sailors take warning …

“Vale, now that we know how to communicate through Demeter, we'll keep you—”

“Eli, who are you talking—” a voice shouts in the background. Zoe?

“For fuck's sake, give me a minute!” Eli yells.

“Citizens, it is time to strike the final blow—” Philip says, even as his eyes grow wide and his shoulders tense. He takes a hesitant step backward and glances at me, then at Aulion. Before us, the crowd is swimming in red.

Eli's voice again. “And did you see Remy's video? Was that fucking brilliant or what? And by the way, I'm perfectly fine now. Rhinehouse replicated Corine's vaccine, thanks to Demeter, and I'm feeling fine and dandy, thanks for asking.”