Eve of Man (The Harvest Book 2) (36 page)

“We will go as soon as the humans are secure on Paru,”
she replied. “Don’t you want to make sure your people are safe?” Our people,
she added in thought.

“Yes of course. I only wanted to see it. To maybe...”
He didn’t finish, but she knew he too thought of their son.

Eve smiled, he had much to learn of his abilities.
“You can see it anytime you wish, but with that comes risk of alerting Agra. I
think it best if we don’t go until we have finished here.”

Austin nodded. Of course she was right. He’d only
wanted to get an idea of what they were up against. How many Svan were there?
What other species would they have to deal with? What was the lay out of the terrain?
He’d never went into a mission without doing basic recon first and didn’t
expect to handle this one any different. However, more than any of those
things, he wanted to be closer to his son, on the off chance he might be able
to hear him, to speak to him.

“Where would you like to start?” Eve asked, sensing
his restlessness, his need to have every detail mapped out and under control.

“You said pockets of people were scattered to all
corners?” She nodded. “We should start in China and work our way around the
globe. It’s the fastest route.” Eve nodded again.

“So let’s go.” He took her hand, pulling her close.
The snow stirred about at their feet, funneling upwards and bursting outward.
Before the flakes settled back to the ground, the pair had touched down on Chinese
soil.

Six Months Later

Zack sat on the front porch of the place he, Colin and
his newborn daughter Madison now called home. A simple one-story white adobe
structure, with a slanted roof and a covered porch. Nothing fancy to look at,
that was for sure. The houses that lined both sides of the street and the next
were all the same, as were the seven hundred and eighty houses that made up the
town. Etched into his door was a symbol representing the number one. Ed and
family, who lived to Zack’s right, had a symbol representing the number two.
Kyle, Ada and McKenna were number three, and so on. All of the bunker group lived
in this neighborhood on the same side of the street.

Across from the Londergan’s, resided Mr. and Mrs.
Takaki, a thirtyish aged couple from Japan. Two Korean brothers lived with them,
ages twelve and fourteen. No relation to the couple, but Mrs. Takaki never had
children and the boys were orphaned. The Takaki’s weren’t the only mixed family
living on Paru. Many adults who’d lost children or wanted children, were eager
to adopt those who’d lost parents. No one cared about race. Zack had been
surprised at the number of children who survived. He’d expected the count to be
much lower, but it wasn’t low and continued to rise. Apparently after arriving
on Paru, everyone wanted to make up for lost time. He knew of fifteen women who
were pregnant and suspected more would be before the end of the year when the
population control rule went into effect.   

The neighborhoods were divided by streets made of sand
colored stones of all shapes and sizes. Not rough cobble stones, but an even
surface, like unpolished granite. Trees resembling palms lined the street on
both sides. In the center of town was a community center that also served as
the town hall. A few blocks further, was the medical facility surrounded by a
beautiful park. All things needed and none customary. On the outskirts were the
farms where their food was cultivated. The farms were overseen by the Svan. A
sight to behold in itself and one that always made Zack think of Dorothy in
The
Wizard of Oz
. No sir, they were most definitely not in Kansas any longer.

Zack stood up and stretched. He glanced towards the
end of the street, as he did every day, making sure the portal was still floating
in mid-air. The last group of survivors had arrived two weeks prior. One of
them had handed Zack a note from Austin. On it he’d scribbled
May sixteenth.
That was it, May sixteenth. This date held no special meaning that he knew,
other than it had already past, but that’s what the note had said. Maybe Paru
was ahead of Earth by a month, being that June sixteenth was less than two
weeks away. In any case, Zack planned to be planted on his porch on June
sixteenth. Just in case something happened or his friend decided to drop in for
an overdue visit, a long overdue visit.

In the meantime, he had three deliveries to make
today. Anita Chavez, Gertrude Heinrich, and Jaclyn Froste. All three were
having girls. Zack went inside to grab his uniform and to check on Madison. Jenny
would be over soon to watch her while he went off to do doctor things. Right on
queue he heard the knock on the door and went to let Jenny in.

“How’s my baby girl today?” Jenny asked when Zack
opened the door.

“Sweet as a Georgia peach.”

“You doing a twelve hour shift?”

“Probably. There are several deliveries due and they
all requested me.” He was one of only four doctors on Paru, along with
twenty-seven qualified staff who performed various medical type duties and
another thirty or so floaters who came and went as needed or as they pleased.

“Imagine that,” Jenny said with a knowing smile. “And
the nurses?”

Zack shook his head and put up his hands. “I’m a dad
now. Gotta be responsible. No time to play.”

“Well don’t become too grown-up.” She kissed him on
the cheek and sent him on his way.

The facility was about a mile away or fifteen minutes
on foot. On foot happened to be the only mode of travel allowed, by Adita rule.
Zack didn’t mind the walk, it gave him time to think, to enjoy the peace and
quiet. As he walked he couldn’t help marveling over his surroundings. Not
because they were grandiose, quite the opposite. The house designs were simple
and pleasing to the eye, but all the same. Aside from the number, each house
looked exactly like the next. Same door, same porch, even the same number of
walking stones leading to the same number of steps. On the inside, the floor
plans were exactly the same, two to three bedrooms, two bathrooms, a common
area and a kitchen. He could walk in any house and know, unerringly, where each
was located.

He certainly had to give props to the Elders. When he’d
opened the pod door expecting to be sitting in the middle of nowhere, possibly about
to be plowed down by prehistoric looking beasts, he couldn’t have been more
surprised. Yes sir. They’d seen to everything. Their concerns over not having
all the necessary comforts vanquished upon entering their new homes. Indoor
plumbing, lights, refrigerators; the homes were fully equipped. He’d been
shocked to hell and back when he found out the town ran a system similar to
what he’d designed for the bunker. The Elders had taken to modifying the design
with a few minor improvements.
But of course
, Zack remembered thinking
when they told him.
Yes sir
, he repeated to himself one more time. The
Elders had taken care of everything. Not one detail had been overlooked. A
nervous quiver threatened, but he straightened his spine and shrugged it away. 
Life was as good or good enough and he didn’t want to rock the boat by thinking
things over too much.

Sattya and two Svan, had been the welcoming committee.
Zack and the others didn’t know it then, but that little reception would be the
one and only time an Elder would step foot in their town. And although the Svan
went through great measures to not frighten anyone, they were daunting
creatures none the less. Over the weeks he’d become accustomed to seeing them
patrolling on the edge of the town and on occasion walking the streets at
night. It was a bit of a mind fuck trying to grapple with the fact the very
species responsible for wiping out almost the entire human race, now lived
amongst them as their protectors. Eve had tried to explain by saying they had only
been following orders. Did that make it ok? He didn’t think so. Did that excuse
work for the Nazi war criminals? Not in his book. Should it work for the Svan? No,
not really, but at least for now they were more interested in protecting humans,
than ripping them apart. Zack tried not to think about the morality of it all. Besides,
what was he going to do? Wage war against a superior being? He thought not.

The medical facility was up ahead. He could see it
now, towering over the tree tops. Many discussions centered around this
building and for various reasons, some more than others and one more than all.
At fifteen stories, it was the tallest structure in town, the equipment was the
most advanced anyone had ever seen. The facility was top notch, which made learning
his job easy. These were topics covered repeatedly, exhaustively, but were not
the
top
topic. Not the utmost topic, the one rousing people’s curiosity,
the one raising their anxiety levels. This subject matter had to do with what
took place on the top three floors of the medical building. On these floors was
where they came to give blood, they as in the humans. All day long, every day
of the week, except the last Sunday of the month.

Each day of the week groups of people, ages five and
up, came to the medical facility to donate. This part of their deal weighed
heavy on his mind. He’d expected to give samples every couple of months, not
every damn day. And after one week Zack was floored by the discovery that every
human on Paru was O negative. So the question of what the Elders were doing
with the donations kept him awake, kept feeding that nervous feeling that something
wasn’t quite right in Paruville.

At the end of each week, on Sunday afternoon, the same
two Svan would collect the samples. Zack being Zack had managed to befriend the
collectors, Shaud and Jy, who he convinced to teach him to speak Svan. Zack
always worked the weekend shifts, being he was the only non-religious doctor on
staff. That the others chose to continue worshipping their gods baffled him,
but who was he to question, to judge. Blind faith was something he’d been born
without and would probably never understand, despite the numerous philosophical
conversations he and Ed had on the subject of religion and in more particular,
of the Almighty.

 Zack stopped to chat with Jeremy, who worked part
time at the facility. Since everything in Paruville was free, no one had to
work, but the peculiar thing being, everyone wanted to work. Everyone wanted to
be busy, to feel important, to feel needed, anmd to once again have a purpose
in life. Part of the desire to work stemmed from the need to have a return to
normality. For those who weren’t part of the original bunker group, the test
subjects as Zack referred to their group, coping with this new reality turned
out to be more difficult than expected. He made a mental note to discuss this
with Austin when he arrived, thinking perhaps Eve could work her magic on those
who needed it the most.

Zack greeted Riri, the young nurse who usually assisted
him in the deliveries. Once upon a time she’d been a pop music singer. She was a
native of Brazil, in her mid-twenties, gorgeous, full of spunk and had a crush
on Zack. The old Zack, the pre-Madison Zack, would have already had her in and
out of his bed, but those days were well behind him. He was happy to have her
on staff and that was as far as his feelings went. The patients liked her,
which was a plus. When she worked the night shift, they were treated to her
singing as she walked performed her rounds. He guessed she missed the life. At
least on Paru she didn’t have to worry about paparazzi stalkers. But maybe she
missed them as well. Zack came to a closed door and switched into doctor mode
before knocking and entering the room. “Good morning Mrs. Chavez. Mr. Chavez.
How are we feeling today?” he asked, using impeccable Spanish.

***

In the glass room on top of the jungle, Sattya sat
alone at the table, his gaze directed out towards the ocean, his mind in a
distant place. Matri entered and sat across from Sattya. She knew where he’d
gone and why. The why being the reason for the rigidity in her posture. She
waited in silence for his return. After a few minutes Sattya blinked and turned
to Matri, his expression solemn.

“Eve has made her choice,” he said.

Matri dipped her head down and then up in a slow nod.
“And the captain?”

“He will follow Eve wherever she leads him.”

“I think you underestimate him dear.”

“While his human side is in control, I do not think
there’s risk he will surprise us.”

“And of our word given to the humans?”

“Our word is to honor the Adita creed, no other
promise or covenant can come before this. We must do the right thing for us Matri.
The Elders demand it. Our people demand it. Our future is dependent on it.”

 “Are we doing the right thing?” she challenged. “What
if we’re wrong?”

“We aren’t wrong. We must protect our way of life--”

“By all and any means necessary,” she finished for
him. “Yes, I am quite familiar with the Adita laws. I helped write them. But
laws can be changed. Are we not more advanced? Are we so backward that we can’t
change antediluvian rules?”

“You know it’s not that simple.” He walked over to
her, placing a hand on her shoulder. “What can I say that will ease your mind? Tell
me and I will say it.”

Matri laid her hand over his. “Say you will find
another way.” She turned in her chair and looked up at him. “Can you say that
to me? If you can and you speak with truth, my mind will be at ease.”

Sattya looked down into her face, but said nothing for
he could not say it in truth. Matri brushed his hand away, stood up, and walked
over to the window. If by her beckoning, storm clouds thick and ominous formed on
the horizon. Bolts of lightning crisscrossed the sky, electrifying the
atmosphere.

“There’s a storm coming Sattya. And this time I don’t
think the Elders will be able to control the outcome.” Sattya reached for her
hand, but she pulled away. “We should allow the council more time to debate the
merits of such a tremendous endeavor as war.”

“Wars can’t be fought in comfort. They are not meant
for the thoughts and meanderings of scholars as such that fill our council. If
one is to wage war, then one must do so, and do so with passion and the
commitment to dominate your enemy. Not the desire to win, no. Anyone can desire
things. Humans desire things. Victory is not achieved by desires or wishes or
whims. Sitting about in comfort, discussing the merits of war has no place in
fighting a war. Wars are fought on the battle field.  You cannot have one foot
in and one out. You must commit both feet. You must drink the blood of your
enemy to claim victory.”

“War is not a brutish battle alone, fought by savages,
as you make it sound,” Matri argued.

“Ah, but you are wrong!” he exclaimed. “War is
precisely brutal and those savages fighting are brutes in mind and body. But superb
intelligence also guides the savage warrior, and the wisdoms they follow are
not in the nature of those belonging to the meek and mild mannered. To those
intellects who debate war while maintaining their own personal comfort. Warriors
are brutally intelligent, not comfortably wise. Do you understand the difference?”