Born of Sand (Tales of a Dying Star Book 5) (21 page)

BOOK: Born of Sand (Tales of a Dying Star Book 5)
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Thinking of Akonai reminded him of trust. He'd thrown the Freemen into Victory Base and gave them fear and mistrust. What had that gotten them? Mira had been helpless when he found her on the sand, yet she had grown useful and loyal. In spite of the paranoia instilled by Akonai and Spider.

I still need to tell Mira of her daughters
, he thought, the guilt returning like a fresh wound. So many casualties of the planet's occupation. So many toiling in mines and factories, working their fingers bloody, labouring until their usefulness ran out. Was that all a person was, their potential for usefulness? Was that what all of the Praetari were, the sum of the collective usefulness to the Exodus? Could the Melisao truly be so callous?

And was Farrow any better, judging the factory workers on their value just then?

"Well?" Hob demanded. "What are we going to do?"

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 14

 

 

"This is a stupid fucking decision," Kari hissed, "and you're a stupid fucking leader for making it."

Farrow stood with his arms crossed in the Victory Base workshop, staring up at the circular door that led to the desert above. Even with their newly-repaired transport, which could carry several tonnes of men and material at a time, it had taken well into the evening to bring the workers and supplies back from the freighter wreckage. Kari had complained the entire time, insisting they leave the women and flee with the crates of goods before any peacekeepers stumbled upon them. But none did, and they had made it back safely with the workers and material.

That didn't stop Kari from complaining, though.

"You've lost all focus for this war," she said. "Electroids, weapons, ships. All valuable. Necessary for attacking the peacekeepers. But these women..."

The one hundred and forty-four workers--they had counted them--milled around the workshop nervously. Dok rummaged through the crates of electroid parts to the right, ignoring the chaos. Farrow had expected him to react angrily at so many newcomers invading his personal area, but so far the quirky man seemed more concerned with the new parts they'd brought back.
If only my own worries could be cast aside so easily.

One of the sand cruisers appeared in the dark ceiling door, carrying the last of the load and the single strongarm who had been guarding the women. They would put him in a cell while figuring out what to do. With a mechanical groan the doors closed as it descended.

"We'll starve," Kari said. "And then they'll all be dead anyways, only this time it will be your fault. At least if we had left them, the peacekeepers would have thrown them back into the factory rotation. Here they are useless."

"We have enough food for two months, by Hob's estimate," Farrow said. "And I intend to put these women to work. They will not be useless, Kari, no matter how many times you say so."

"Then you'll use them," Kari said with acid in her voice, "the way they've been used all their lives?"

Mira, Maggy, and Binny entered the room with a cart full of supplies. Maggy called the newcomers over, and the three of them began handing out blankets and fresh clothes. The Freemen didn't have enough clothing for all of them, but a cache of black peacekeeper uniforms had been in one of the crates. They would not fit all of them, and it would make them look ridiculous, but it was better than nothing.

On the journey back to Victory Base many of the workers had trembled with fear, certain they were being sent to their deaths no matter how many times they were told otherwise. Some had wept openly when descending into the base, even. Now many of them smiled while accepting their blankets. Farrow suspected Binny's presence had a calming effect on them.

"I will
rely
on them," Farrow finally said, "not use them. They will join the Freemen and help us here in the base, as equals. That is the difference between us and the Melisao." He'd spent the journey back to base considering it, turning it over in his head. Akonai's taunting words--
you use men as much as I do
--no longer stung the way they had. Farrow held compassion, and that made all the difference.

"Where will we keep them all?" Kari tried.

He'd already worked that out, too. "We'll open the east halls. It will strain our electricity usage, and our margin for error will be thin, but Dok fixed the third turbine. We will make do."

"And you can trust them all? How do you know they won't run to the Melisao the first chance they get?"

"I don't trust them fully. I'd be stupid to. I've arranged extra guard duty at the exits for a while. Just to be safe. But I won't suspect every person on Praetar. I'm done being paranoid. Look at Mira: I very nearly killed her because I was certain she was a spy. I will not make that mistake again." He sighed. "And I'm done being frightened of the fear of Melisao
shades
infiltrating us. More fear-mongering from Akonai, designed to keep us scared and reliant on him. If a
shade
had infiltrated us we'd all be dead in our sleep already."

Kari thought about that for a long moment before speaking. "Who is going to train the women? Not me, I assure you. I wasted enough time showing Mira how to shoot a gun, I refuse--"

He rounded on her. "Why are you so fixated on this?" It was as if the decision to bring the workers back was a personal affront to the assassin. "We lost six Freemen bringing down the freighter. That brings our strength down to twenty-eight. We
need
manpower, however we can shitting get it. Yes, they're weak now. Yes, they'll need training. Yes, it will take time. But with that many Freemen, along with the electroids Dok can build and the aircraft we can fly, we're finally within reach of striking the Melisao down with force."
And without Akonai's help.

"Two of those we lost taking the freighter were pilots," she pointed out. "Hob is now the only one who can fly a ship, and poorly at that."

"I'm working on it."

"I'm sick of having to hear that," she said in a low voice.

"
I'm
sick of having to say it."

"I'd like to be more involved with your decisions. You've been keeping a lot of things close to your chest, instead of going to the men and deciding as a group."

"My decision is made, and that's all you need to know." Before she could argue more he left her.

Dok had made a mess opening crates of electroid parts and scattering them around the floor. "Quite a haul, huh?" Farrow asked, partly wanting to get some positive feedback from
somebody
.

"Quite the haul indeed!" Dok said with flawless diction. It was strange hearing him speak normally. "You acquired enough batteries not only to arm the electroids, but to fix the final Riverhawk as well."

Farrow tucked his thumbs behind his belt. "So we'll have forty completed electroids?"

Dok said, "You didn't let me finish! These crates contain all the parts required for the newest model of electroid.
All
the parts, pristine and new. I will need to meticulously inventory each crate to know for certain, but I believe we can assemble more than a hundred."

Farrow was too pleased by the answer to make a quip about what 'meticulously inventory' meant to Dok.
A hundred
. And the final Riverhawk fixed. He looked around the room.
After so much bad luck over a lifetime, I've certainly saved up for this good fortune.

He visited the radio room, but there had still been no signal from Akonai. The way in which they had parted had given Farrow a clear picture of what they needed to do. Or rather, what they didn't need to do. They didn't need to wait for the
Children of Saria
to attack. Not anymore.

And that was just fine.

They opened up the east wings for the factory workers, and the turbines held strong despite the extra drain. Their quarters were cramped with five women to a cell, but nobody complained. They arranged new meal shifts since their full number--now over one hundred and sixty--couldn't all fit in the kitchens at the same time. Maggy
did
complain about that, and all the new work she had to do, until he sent the four new children to help her. She ordered them around, gesturing sternly with her spoon, but Farrow saw her smile when they weren't looking.

Twenty other workers were given various simple tasks--cleaning, or shadowing some of the veterans on scouting duty deep in the tunnels--but the majority were sent to the workshop. Without needing to be ordered, Mira took charge of the workers, evaluating their experience and arranging them accordingly. Within a day she had a makeshift assembly line snaking across the floor of the workshop. That freed up Dok to focus on the code for the electroids, reprogramming them to fight. "It's not difficult; these are made to work drills, so they already have a lot of the code to point at something and activate their tool. Just need to change the tool from a drill to a laser, of which we now have plenty." He scratched his white hair. "Four days. Maybe five. Stars above, the women will have all the electroids assembled by then."

Farrow watched Mira move from worker to worker. They sat on the floor, sliding each assembled piece to the next woman in line. Occasionally Mira stopped and gave instructions, gently pointing and demonstrating whatever it was that needed doing. Other workers moved among the assembly line, adding new electroid parts to the piles next to each woman's station so they always had a supply.

"I've set them up in six-hour shifts," Mira said. "Half as long as the factories in the city. They're thrilled by the change! To them it feels like a massive improvement on conditions. It is a massive improvement."

Farrow nodded. "I'll arrange daily weapons training for those who want it. It will not be mandatory. Those who wish to remain peaceful will not be forced to fight. But those who do..."

"All of them," Mira blurted out.

"What?"

Mira looked at the assembly line, now working smoothly. "All of them will fight. I can see it in their eyes. Some of them may not know it yet, but they will."

And she was right. Sixty workers visited the armoury for weapons training the first day. Eighty the next. By the third day all but the injured went straight to the armoury after their workshop shift to train with rifles--which they had plenty of, finally. Farrow had to dedicate nine of his veterans to working in the armoury around the clock to train them all.
A good problem to have
, he thought. Even Kari stopped complaining, though he could tell she was still bothered by the entire thing.

A hundred electroids. A hundred and forty fighters. Seven aircraft, and a handful of vehicles.
There's just one final piece to collect
.

That piece returned a week later, just as he was beginning to worry.

Farrow met Geral in one of the scouting tunnels, where he'd come down a secret escape hatch from the sand. His face was flushed and grimy, but he wore a big, toothy smile. "It's open."

Farrow's stomach fluttered. "Truly?"

Geral nodded. "Of course. I told you the Governor wouldn't seal it off. Too paranoid."

"And inside?"

Geral pulled a wrinkled sheet of paper from his pocket and shoved it at Farrow.

He read quickly, eyes darting across the page. By the time he reached the end his smile mirrored Geral's.

Farrow gathered his twenty-some remaining veterans in the kitchen that evening. He spoke with confidence and excitement.

"For the longest time we've worked with the
Children of Saria
. They helped us become established in Victory Base, they united our purpose, they gave us direction. We have allowed them to guide our efforts, give us instructions. We allowed them control.

"No longer. It is now obvious little assistance will come from them, if anything at all. They have focused most of their attention on Melis, and the battle against the Empire there. They may succeed, and I wish them the best in that regard, but it will not aid our own battle here on Praetar."

"But they were to give us a signal," someone said. "A coordinated time to strike. Without them..."

"We don't need them, brother!" Farrow answered. "You have seen our strength swell in the past two weeks. More weapons, more electroids, more men and women. The Melisao strength on Praetar is barely more than a thousand, spread out and scattered. We can hit them in force at the Governor's Palace, toppling their leaders here and leaving the rest in disarray. They have too much ground to protect and cannot withstand us if we strike any single place. We can liberate our planet from the peacekeepers ourselves, without the help of a foreign group. Do you want your freedom given to you? Or do you want to take it for yourself?"

BOOK: Born of Sand (Tales of a Dying Star Book 5)
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