Reaping (24 page)

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Authors: K. Makansi

BOOK: Reaping
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Now, in the deepening twilight, Bear leads the way down a steep hill to a slit in the perimeter fence of Round Barn. I’m nervous. It’s extremely risky for us to go into the Farm, although Bear was quick to reassure us that the Enforcers don’t do much in the way of perimeter guard work. And we are all wearing heat-cloaking gear, which should hide our signals from any patrolling drones. It would be much riskier, if not impossible, for the Farm workers to leave the property, unless we were able to smuggle in new clothes for them to wear that aren’t equipped with the tracking devices woven into the fibers of their current uniforms. So we’re meeting them at the same creekside spot that Remy and Bear apparently met his old friends the first time, a secluded little niche on a hill a kilometer or so away from the worker residences.

And, apparently, we’re bringing a lot of food.

“The whole idea is to get them off their MealPak diets as quickly as possible,” Remy explained, as she handed me and Eli each two loaded sacks of food. “The more untainted food we can give them, the better. We don’t really know how long it will take for the sugar water replacements to take effect.”

“Where did you guys get all this?” Eli asked.

“Normandy,” Remy said, nonchalantly. “This was supposed to be our food for the next week. But since you guys showed up, there’s plenty to go ’round, right?”

Eli and I glanced at each other, neither of us bothering to correct her: we did not, in fact, bring plenty of food to go around. We had expected to pick her and Bear up today and take them back to Normandy, and get on with the LOTUS mission. But, with our prized roasted boar now socked away in the cave, I figure we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.

We come to the gap in the fence and Bear slips through first. We pass the stuffed sacks through to him. One by one, we slip through. I’m on high alert—this is the first time I’ve been back on actual Sector-controlled territory since I fled almost three months ago. I’m thankful that the moon is almost new, that it will be harder for soldiers or drones to detect our motion in the dark. So I still my nerves with a squaring of my shoulders and follow Bear as he leads us silently through the fields.

After about twenty minutes of walking, Bear pulls up short.

“We’re here,” he breathes. He drops his pack and squints around. “They must be running late.”

“It’s okay. We’ll wait.” Remy sets down her sack and drops to the ground. I follow suit. The early spring grass is cool, and the dandelions and daisies have sprouted. Eli stands, looking almost as anxious as I feel.

“You ready?” I ask Remy. She’s sitting cross-legged, looking meditative, with her eyes closed and her breathing deep and even. Her small hands clasped in her lap, the only thing that betrays anxiety is a slight catch in her breath when I ask.

“Yes,” she responds without opening her eyes. Eli finally sits next to her, and she reaches out to take his hand, sensing it was him without looking. “Are you?” she asks me in return, now opening her eyes. “They’ll want to know why you’re here with us.” Her voice is expectant. She’s not asking me if I’m ready to tell my story, but if I’m ready to support hers.

“I’m ready.” The confidence in my response belies my hesitation. 
Am I?

I hear a shuffling behind me, and Eli and I step back into the shadows so as not to alarm anyone. They won’t be expecting you, Remy had said. We’ll want to introduce you when the time is right.

A line of men and women approach, and as they draw nearer I count them and smile. There must be at least twenty. Remy scrambles to her feet, smiling warmly and shaking the hand of the big man who leads the group.

“Luis,” she says. “Thank you for coming, and bringing everyone.”

Remy and Bear have obviously already won over the woman at Luis’s side. Her smile is bright even in the evening darkness. Remy turns and hugs her.

“Rose,” she says. “Good to see you, thank you for being here.”

“Of course,” Rose says in return. “We brought as many as we could, safely, and as many as would come.”

“How’s everyone?” Bear asks, his question directed to the group at large. A few voices murmur back at him in greeting.

“What are you doin’ back here, Bear?” someone asks. It’s a low, masculine voice, and in the darkness I can’t make out the speaker.

“Luis and Rose asked the same thing when we talked two nights ago. I came back because I’ve got somethin’ to tell you all, somethin’ important. It’s about Sam and Andre, and everyone else who’s ever gone missing, and what we’re all doin’ here on the Farms. But first, we brought some food to share.”

“Food?” someone says, skeptically. “You off your MealPaks? You know you gotta eat what the Dieticians give us or you’ll get sick.”

“That’s one of the things I want to talk about,” Bear says, his tone provocative. “I am off my MealPaks. I’ve been living in the Wilds for nigh on four months. No Dieticians out there to feed me breakfast, lunch, and dinner. And I’m as healthy as I ever was. Healthier, even.”

“Their food is good,” Rose says, piping up helpfully from Remy’s side. “Luis and I tried it the other night. Our Paks are good, I’ll grant you that, but what they’ve got tastes different, somehow. And the bread is, well …” she turns to Remy. “I really just came for the bread,” she laughs.

A joke. 
Remy and Bear have made an impression on one farm worker, at least. There’s laughter in the group at this comment.

“Fills you up,” Bear says. “And tonight we brought more than just bread. Dried fruit and smoked meat, the likes of which I’d never tasted before I left the Farm. And these honey-oat bars that taste so sweet you’d swear you were robbing a beehive.”

“Here,” Remy says, taking a loaf and breaking it into chunks. She passes a few pieces on to Rose, who hands them out to the other workers. “Why don’t you pass the bread around, sit down, get comfortable and then taste it for yourself.”

The men and women settle in and a few moments of silence pass, as the bread and oat bars are passed around from hand to hand. 
It’s a good thing we brought a lot of food,
 I think, even as I realize that what we have here won’t go far among twenty people. If we’re going to keep this up, we’ll need to fly in supplies.

“This 
is
 good,” someone says, sounding a little surprised.

“I told you, Cal,” Rose says kindly. “I said you’d like it.”

“Now, while you eat, my friend Remy’s got something to tell you,” Bear says. “It has to do with what she found out when she was living in Okaria.”

“Remy?” someone asks, leaning forward to peer through the darkness, looking Remy up and down like Bear just conjured her out of the evening mist.

“Haven’t heard that name in a long time,” someone else says. “Since that … you remember that attack way back … when was that … five, six years or so?”

“It was a little over three years ago,” Bear says. “And this is 
that
 Remy, Remy Alexander.”

Remy stands a little taller and rolls up on the balls of her feet. “You all know who I am,” she says. “You know me as the daughter of the Poet Laureate. You know me as Tai Alexander’s sister. And as the girl whose family disappeared after the massacre at the Sector Research Institute.” She pauses, takes a deep breath. “But tonight I’d like you to get to know the real Remy Alexander. The Remy whose sister was murdered not by Outsiders, but by the Sector. The Remy whose mother—a doctor who helped people on Farms like Round Barn—was murdered just a few weeks ago by Sector forces.” Little gasps go up around the crowd as Remy continues. “I want you to get to know the Remy who fights for the Resistance.”

“You mean the—”

“With 
Jeremiah Sayyid
, who kidnapped—”

“Worse than Outsiders, they are, that’s what I heard—”

“Terrorists!”

Rose looks around nervously, and Luis stares at the ground, as though unwilling or unable to take a side. But Remy looks unmoved, obviously prepared for this reaction.

“That’s what you’ve been told, and in truth, if I was in your position, I’d believe all that, too. But the problem is that none of what you’re being told is true....” She holds her hand up as some in the group start to grumble. “And there are two other people here who I hope can help 
me
 convince 
you
 to listen and consider what I have to say.” She motions for me to stay in the shadows, and continues.

“First, I want you to meet Elijah Tawfiq.” Eli steps into the circle and nods at Luis and the others. “You probably remember that Eli was there the day my sister was murdered. He was nearly killed, too, and he told his story to the investigators. But they didn’t listen. They claimed he was disturbed and wasn’t telling the truth about who really killed all those students, who really killed Professor Hawthorne, and who tried to kill him. Instead of listening to him, they took away his job and tried to keep him drugged to keep silent. Then his parents disappeared. And that’s when he left Okaria with my family. That’s when Eli joined the Resistance. Eli.”

Remy steps aside and motions for Eli to speak up.

“What I have to say can be summarized in one word,” he begins. “Please. 
Please
 try to open yourselves up to the possibility that Remy is telling the truth. 
Please
 try to listen when she says the Outsiders didn’t kill her sister. 
Please
 try to believe me when I say the investigation was a sham. 
Please
 try to consider that the Sector is lying to you, controlling you, that the OAC under the leadership of Corine Orleán does not have your best interests at heart.”

More voices interrupt and Rose hushes them with a louder than expected Shhh.

“And if you won’t consider what Remy says or what I say,” Eli continues, “there’s one more person who’d like to speak to you. Someone else here tonight who has a stake in this story.” Silence settles around the group, and Eli turns to Remy. “You do the honors.”

Remy steps forward again and says to the group. “I’d like you all to meet Valerian Orleán.” She turns and motions me forward. “Vale?”

I feel a flush run up my neck and into my cheeks. None of the Farm workers are looking at me, not yet—it’s too dark for anyone to have put my face to my name. But I can feel Eli, Remy, and Bear, all watching me expectantly, and Eli’s words from earlier come back to my ears. 
Okaria loves him. He’s our ace in the hole.

I step forward and clear my throat, but words don’t come. 
What do I say? Why am I nervous? I’ve spoken before thousands of people before, in front of some of the most important people in the Sector. Why can’t I find my voice?

I meet Remy’s eyes, the whites of them glimmering in what little starlight we’ve got. She tilts her head in an almost imperceptible nod. 
All I can do is tell the truth.

“My name is Valerian Orleán.” I pause to let this sink in, but no one speaks. No one moves. “If you’ve heard of the Resistance, you’ve surely heard that I’ve been kidnapped by this band of renegades, terrorists. You probably saw the broadcast my parents put out through the Okarian News Network, the one in which they claimed I’d been betrayed by my best friend, Jeremiah Sayyid. But I’m here to tell you that none of that is true. I stand before you tonight side by side with Remy Alexander, Elijah Tawfiq, and your old comrade Bear, as a member of the Resistance.”

I stand a little straighter, draw in a deep breath. The last time I gave a speech was at my SRI graduation and it was broadcast throughout the Sector. I was nervous, but I was playing a part, eager to do my political duty and get on to the party where Jeremiah and Moriana and our other friends were waiting. I’m still playing a part, and Jeremiah is still waiting for me, but this time, there is no party. No chauffeured airship stocked with champagne. This time, lives are at stake and I have to take care to get it right.

“I wasn’t betrayed by Jeremiah. In fact, Jeremiah is with us, too, waiting just a few kilometers away for our return. The truth is Jeremiah is 
still
 my best friend. No matter what my father or Linnea Heilmann tells you, Jeremiah did not betray me. My 
parents
 betrayed me. The Okarian Sector betrayed me. The leaders of our country betrayed me, and they’re betraying you, too.” I wait for that to sink in. The air is so still, the workers so silent, it’s almost as if I’ve bored them to death. Finally someone speaks up.

“Don’t make no sense. Why would your parents tell the whole Sector you’d been kidnapped if it isn’t so?”

“Because they’re angry I found out about the crimes they’ve committed and the people they’ve hurt. Because they’re afraid I will tell the truth to honest people like you. Anger and fear. That is what is driving them.”

“Crimes?” Someone says. “I don’t believe it! What crimes could they have possibly done? Why they saved our lives what with that last outbreak on the Farms. Corine Orleán is a miracle worker. She can’t be no criminal.”

“As hard as it is for you to believe, it was even harder for me to believe. In fact, at first I couldn’t accept it. It’s impossible, I told myself. My parents can’t be killers. And yet … and yet….”

“Sam was killed because he asked too many questions about Remy’s sister,” Bear says, stepping in to save me. I thought I’d steeled myself to the facts, that by now I could say it all out loud, but I’m thankful for the interruption.

“He was surely dead to us, dead to who he’d been before, the moment he came out of that silo,” Luis says, nodding as if to reassure himself that speaking up is the right choice.

“And Remy’s sister and everyone else in that classroom were killed by Corine. Remember I was there,” Eli says. “The man who killed those students was no Outsider. He put a Bolt to my head,” Eli places two fingers at his temple as if to pull the trigger, “He looked me in the eye and said ‘Don’t get on Corine Orleán’s bad side,’ and then he turned the Bolt around and shot himself. Tai was murdered, directly or indirectly, by Corine Orleán.”

A shiver slithers up my spine as murmurs pass through the group of workers. I’ve seen those words, but only on a computer screen, when I read Elijah’s testimony about the massacre when I broke into my mother’s office and hacked into her computer. Hearing them spoken out loud gives them new meaning. 
I can disassociate myself from my parents, but they will always be a part of me.

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