The Sowing (34 page)

I sigh. Now that we’ve escaped the noise and commotion of the ballroom, I feel like my mind has gone blank. Everything just is and I can’t analyze why or how right now.

“I don’t know. I’m not assuming anything. I was afraid of him, for a minute, in the airship.”
All I know is that we need to get out
.  Jeremiah nods brusquely and doesn’t push me any further.

A few minutes pass in silence before I hear the thrum and the slightly tense air that indicates the Sarus is above us. She lands delicately, and as always, I can’t help but smile when I see her. This morning, I flew to Jeremiah’s apartment, and together we coursed the entire ship looking for tracking devices of any kind. Thank goodness for his engineering skills. He ran a diagnostic program on the ship’s controls to make sure we could disable the navigation feature, by extension making it impossible for the ship to report our location to any Sector monitors or passing drones. Of course, that also means we’ll have to pilot her manually. But we figured a minor traffic infraction would be no big deal in the heap of charges that will be leveled at us if we get caught.

I palm open the door and we climb in. Jeremiah scrolls through and initiates the necessary programs to deactivate the connection to the Sector navigation system.

“Excited?” I ask, mustering up a grin. I feel anything but excited, but I know he’s looking forward to being able to fly. I ceded the controls to him earlier today. I start looking at the map of the city on the nav panel. “We should head west, I think,” I say, offhand. We’d talked about which direction to head but hadn’t made a decision.

“Why west?” Miah asks, glancing over his shoulder at me. I shrug.

“It’s the fastest way out of Sector territory.” I don’t say the rest.
The Resistance is that way. The Outsiders are there
. “We’ll figure it out. Let’s just get out of the city first.” Again, Miah doesn’t push.

“Demeter,” I say quietly, touching my fingertip to my C-Link. I’ve talked to her in front of Miah before, but it still feels weird. Jeremiah is determinedly not paying attention to me, as though he’s giving me privacy.

“Yes, Vale?”

“I’ll have to turn off my C-Link now so no one can track me. I don’t know when I’ll get to talk to you again. But I’m keeping the earpiece with me, in case I ever get to a place where I can bring you back.”

“I know,” she says, soothingly, lightly. “You’ll be fine.”

“It’s not me I’m worried about,” I say.

“Vale,” she says, almost laughing at me. “I’m a part of the cloud. I’m just a series of electrical processes. They can’t do anything to me.”
Aren’t we all just a series of electrical processes?

“Okay. I’ll talk to you when I can.”

“Until then,” she says, “be safe.” I nod, trying not to acknowledge the absurdity of saying goodbye to a nonexistent being. I reach up and touch my ear, deactivating the device.
I’ll get her back someday,
I think. Jeremiah settles into the seat next to me and quickly powers up the ship to get us in the air. The Sarus starts to lift off the bay, accelerating past the Kingsland building, where the ballroom’s enormous windows glimmer one last time before disappearing behind us.

“So,” he asks, his tone falsely bright, “what’s out there in the Wilds?” It’s a good question. Even I’m not sure. I’ve spent precious little time outside our borders, and though I’ve read some reports on the state of the surrounding areas, the government has always seemed surprisingly unconcerned about the rest of the world.

“I don’t really know. The western-most Okarian establishment is Windy Pines, a factory town. If I remember correctly, they specialize in nanotech. In the Wilds, I’m less sure. Most of the areas outside of the Farms and Sector borders have returned to their natural state. And I know Outsiders live out there, but I have no idea where, or how.” Jeremiah gives me a sideways look as we cruise past Assembly Hall. “And, of course, the Resistance.”

“You know, for being so high up in the government, you’re surprisingly useless,” he says, smirking.

“It’s amazing, isn’t it? Why they ever let me into a position of power.…” I touch one of the controls to lower the opacity of the ship’s exterior. The skin of the Sarus becomes translucent and we can see all around us as we fly.

“No wonder Aulion was constantly on your case.”

“The man is truly wise,” I say, trying to conjure up a laugh. But my heart isn’t really in the joke, and I return my attention to the city brushing by us. The city we may never see again.

Tonight is a perfect night to be flying over the capital. All the streets are lit up by hundreds of thousands of individual candles, and from above it looks like a shifting, flickering ocean of light. We fly past pillars of light, buildings that have been allowed to leave on the electricity for the parties and celebrations. The city looks spectacular. It makes me think about what waits for us outside Okaria.

The lake is visible off in the distance, quiet and dark. I realize that out there, over the lake, is where the Resistance is located and where most of the Outsider sightings have been.

As if reading my thoughts, Jeremiah asks, “What’s on the other side of the lake?”

“There’s a factory town across, if you track northwest a little ways along the lakeshore. And two Farms, about fifty kilometers from the shore.”

“We need to decide where we’re going,” he says, somewhat sharply.

“Let’s just get outside the Sector first,” I respond, not meeting his eyes. “Then we can check our maps, eat a bite of food, change clothes, and decide what’s next.” He nods silently, but I don’t think he’s happy about my indecision.

We fly westward in silence for a while. I presume Jeremiah is just as preoccupied with his thoughts as I am with mine. The lights from the city dim and diminish slowly, fading into the black background of night. Above us the stars are brilliant, illuminating the pathway of the sky just as the candles did in the city. The world suddenly seems much more expansive as the white-pink dome of stars becomes the defining feature of the landscape. Whether that’s threatening or promising, I can’t tell.

It’s too dark to see much on the ground, but we can watch the landscape change through the ship’s radar imaging. We watch the rolling, hilly fields below us give way to trees and marsh, and I realize we’re already well outside the Sector’s administration area—the onset of forest means the land isn’t maintained or used by the Sector in any way. There are no real defined borders or lines drawn in the sand to mark the end of the Sector and the beginning of the Wilds. Instead, drones and soldiers will patrol the areas around the cities, towns, and Farms. In between, though, is mostly no-man’s land. There are some hovercraft paths to follow, but in most cases, it’s just wilderness. We’re probably already past Windy Pines, I realize, so we’re definitely beyond the normal reach of the drones. Miah’s been quiet as we fly, piloting the Sarus with all the grace of the bird she was named after.

“We’re definitely beyond the Sector’s reach for now.”

“I thought so,” he says, his eyes on the controls.

“So, you want to set her down? We can get out the maps and take a look at the area.” My stomach is growling. After all, I never did eat at the party. I check the clock on the screens.  It’s already past one in the morning. No wonder I’m hungry. “We’re far enough out that we should figure out where we want to go. Specifically,” I say, though the words come out reluctantly because I have no idea where I want to go.

Jeremiah nods and starts to bring us down to a clear landing space, a little meadow along the side of a river. He sets her down gently and powers off the engines.

“Actually, Vale, we might need to stay here overnight. She doesn’t have a lot of energy right now. There wasn’t a ton of sunlight today and she needs to repower. We could just fly on the reactor for a while, but I think we’re far enough out that we can stay safely for the night.”

I check the energy meters. He’s right—the solar cells are low. They’re only at about fifteen percent capacity right now, which will be enough to keep the heating and cloaking on through the evening. We’ll be warm and invisible to passing drones, if there are any. If we push her further, though, we might end up sleeping in the cold. We prepared for all weather types, but I wasn’t planning on breaking into our camping gear already.

“I think so. We should have at least until mid-morning or early afternoon before they realize we’re gone, anyway. We can rest here for tonight and set out again early in the morning.”

Miah stands up to stretch. I can tell he’s tense. I’m sure leaving Moriana behind without so much as a hint of an explanation is weighing on him, and neither of us is happy about leaving our old lives behind.

“You okay?” I ask.

“Yeah,” he says, eyeing me somewhat warily. “You?”

“Fine.” He cocks a questioning eyebrow at me. I meet his gaze, undeterred. He looks away, satisfied, at least temporarily, that I am sane and functioning. “I’m going to get out of this tux.”

“I’ll change when you’re done,” I say. I step out of the cockpit and head to my pack. I pull out the plasma I stashed and load the map I saved onto the hard drive. I set it on the ship’s UMIT, the universal magnetic information transfer module, and a three-dimensional, topographical map comes up in the center of the tiny lounge area. Jeremiah, meanwhile, has started pulling his clothes off, and when he’s done and looking like regular old Miah again, he starts pulling food out of the ship’s tiny built-in fridge.

“Here,” he says, tossing me a Mealpak labeled VALERIAN ORLEÁN. We made sure to bring as much food from the Dieticians as we could. After all, we don’t want to lose our edge, intellectually or physically. I catch it and peel open the packaging, but something nags. Then I remember Soren’s words from the interrogation room:
You and your friends dine on lavish meals juiced up with customized cocktails designed to amp up your cognitive abilities so you can laugh and philosophize about art and culture and science …
Now I realize why I wasn’t keen on eating at the party. I hesitate, and when I look up, Jeremiah’s watching me, half his Mealpak already gone.

“What?” he asks.

“Nothing,” I respond, and I pick up a bamboo fork and start to dig in. I don’t have a choice. It’s the only food I have. Eat or starve. I pick up the little dumplings that have evidently been prescribed for me. The label says
beef, rice flour, watercress, leek, turnip, apple
, and on the back there’s a comprehensive list of every vitamin, amino acid, hormone, and protein the Dieticians have included. I wonder what this particular concoction is designed to do to me.

Jeremiah sits on the small bench next to the hologram, stabbing at his food, and starts to play with the map.

“It’s pretty accurate around Sector territory, like towns and Farms, because drones are constantly patrolling and taking aerial photos,” I comment, and then stuff two dumplings in my mouth.“Buh ih geds aachy ah you go earth er out.” Jeremiah is piling food in his mouth, looking at me incomprehensibly.

“Wha ’oo say?” he demands.

I swallow. “I said it gets patchy as you go further out. See, we’re probably around here,” —I point to a location and use my hands to zoom in on the area of woodlands I think we’ve found— “which has pretty good mapping because it’s not far from Windy Pines. But if you go further out, the detail isn’t nearly as good.”

Jeremiah starts to play with it a little bit, zooming way out over the continent and then back in on the Sector and the surrounding area.

“Where do you think we’ll find the Resistance?” I glance at him, hesitating. Is he really ready to commit to their cause so quickly?

“Is that where you want to go?” I ask. I put the rest of my dumplings aside. We’ve had this conversation before, but now we have to make a decision.

“It seems like our best option. I don’t know where else we’d go. Take up with the Outsiders?” My hand instinctively goes to the acorn pendant hanging around my neck. Thoughts of Chan-Yu, Remy, and Soren fly through my mind, but I shut them back down. Jeremiah notices the gesture. “Is that what you want to do? Go live in the Wilds with the Outsiders?”

I shrug. “I don’t know. I don’t know what’s right or wrong right now, and the Outsiders seem to be neutral players. Hiding out in neutral territory doesn’t sound like a bad idea.”

Jeremiah scrutinizes me. He’s usually a lot more eager to voice his own opinions, but he’s been remarkably quiet tonight. I wonder what he’s watching me for. Hesitation? Fear? Signs of a nervous breakdown? I clear my throat awkwardly, and he looks away.

“Either way,” I say, breaking the pregnant silence, “we want to go south tomorrow, over the lake. No one really knows where the Outsiders are, because they move around so much. But as far as we can tell, they operate primarily south of the Sector. And the Resistance is southwest of here. We think their main base is south of Lake Ayrie.” I zoom in on the map on a blur of an old, ruined town. “This is the nearest base we’ve been able to locate. We think it’s really small, though—no more than ten people. And we’re not even positive it’s the Resistance. Could be Outsiders or just stragglers, nomads. But if you really want to join up with them, that’s the closest place with identifiable ties to the Resistance.”

“I don’t know about ‘join up with them,’” Jeremiah says. “But I think we should definitely consider going there. There will be people we know there. People who are familiar with us.”

“I know,” I mutter. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

“I get that you think they’ll hate you, but you can’t hide out with the Outsiders forever. Maybe for a few days, a few weeks at most. But no one—not the Resistance, not your parents, not the Outsiders—will let you stay out there forever. You’re too important, too dangerous. You’ll get sucked back into this conflict eventually. And the Resistance needs us.” His eyes light up a little bit, and he’s staring at me dead on. “We could fight back, Vale.”

I know he’s right. I know what I should do. But I don’t know if I can bring myself to do it.

“I don’t think they want me on their side, Miah,” I say, rubbing my fingers against my temples. I look back at the map. “Who I am, who my parents are … I don’t think they want an Orleán with them.” In fact, I’m pretty worried they might just shoot me on sight.