Seeds of War

by Fisher, Rachel

  “Wonderful,” Louis nodded at Darryl. “That will be good for the additional bit we’ve decided to add to your current Seeding mission. The proximity to Dead Zones along the way will help.”

  Fi frowned, confused. “Additional bit?”

  It was then that she noticed the canvas bag that Louis carried in his right hand. He set it on the table in front of them and opened it, reaching in and pulling out Ziploc bags of seeds.

  “These,” he said, handing a bag to her, “are not the seeds of food crops. These are the heirloom seeds of wild grasses and grains.”

  Ah, yes, the wild grasses. She’d visited the heirloom wild grass pods in Eden many times, but she’d always thought of them as being for experimental purposes like testing the crossing patterns of the wild and GM strains. She hadn’t even considered Seeding the wild grasses.

  She turned the bag over in her hands. “So we’re going to Seed the Dead Zones with these?”

  “Yes,” Darryl confirmed. “It’s as important for the overall ecosystem that we bring back natural grasses as it is that we recover the food crops.”

  “So, what exactly to you envision us doing with these?” Fi asked, knowing that these seeds would not be planted in neat little plots.

  “Well, Fi,” Louis smiled. “You sow them the old fashioned way. Just find good, moist soil and spread at will. Anytime you find Dead Zones with water sources, or areas of moisture, you can distribute these. As summer deepens, you’ll be able to seed after rain storms.”

  “Yes, we get enough of those,” Fi agreed. Sitting back, she shook her head in amazement. “Do you think we could actually recover the Dead Zones with these?”

  “That’s the point in the end, Fi,” Larry said, and she nodded.

  For a moment she closed her eyes and allowed herself to picture the Dead Zones recovering. At first it would be patches, just like the death spiral. But this time it would be a spiral of life as patches became sections, and sections became meadows.

  Opening her eyes, she met Louis’s gaze. “So, how many species are in these bags? I assume these are a mix, rather than a monoculture.”

  “Currently those bags contain over thirty species of wild grasses and meadow plants. Some of those plants that died in the Dead Zones weren’t grasses, after all. Some were wild versions of common food plants like wild carrots, potatoes, and other roots.”

  “Wow, thirty species?” Fi marveled. “How long do you think it would take for the Dead Zones to transform if we’re successful?”

  “Honestly, Fi, we don’t know,” Louis said. “We still can’t be totally certain that all of the wild strains with the genetic marker are gone.”

  Wait, what? Was he serious? She frowned. “I thought that all the pollen had died, and the genetic marker stopped the GM strains from reproducing. Shouldn’t the danger be past?”

  Louis exhaled and exchanged a pained look with Darryl.

  “Well, maybe, but maybe not,” Darryl admitted quietly. “The wild strains were not actually bred to be suicide plants like the crops. And the crosses with wild strains don’t seem to express themselves the same exact way.”

  Fi was shocked. “So the genetic marker could still be out there, is what you’re saying?” The thought was incredibly depressing.

  Louis and Darryl nodded, their heads bobbing in unison.

  “Unfortunately,” Louis said, “our experiments with wild grass crosses here in Eden have shown that wild strains with the marker don’t all die before reproducing. We have to assume that the same may occur in the natural environment. That’s why it’s so important for us to start the wild reseeding and see what happens. Of course, that’s also why it’s so important that Eden and Diaspora guard the original heirlooms. For now, we are the genetic vault.”

  Sitting back in her seat, Fi exhaled loudly in frustration. This was bad news. If the wild grasses kept the genetic marker around and then kept re-crossing with food crops, there could still be problems and die offs in the food supply.

  “But how could this happen?” she asked. “I thought the whole idea was that once the Sickfoods died, we could restore Truefoods. I mean, what about the Sickness? If the genetically modified crops hang around, does that mean that the Sickness will come back?”

  Despite her effort to hide her emotion, she heard the tension in her voice. If they couldn’t be sure that the Truefoods would survive, would the Sickness prevail? Her mind railed at the thought. All this time she thought she’d been focused on bringing food to the survivors, but what she was really focused on was bringing them Truefoods. Nothing mattered to her as much as wiping out the Sickness.

  Louis jumped in before Darryl could answer, his tone comforting. “Fi, you’re too much of a biologist not to understand. It’s like killer bees, or invasive kudzu, or anything else that we mess with, and then release into Nature. Once we make a change, it seems like we can never undo it completely.”

  Fi drummed her nails on the table, annoyed that she agreed with his obvious and correct logic. Nature wasn’t simple. It wasn’t just a “put something in, take something out kind” of system. Dammit.

  “And remember, Fi,” Louis added gently. “The Sickness is a part of Nature too.”

  Fi bristled, resisting the truth. She didn’t want to hear it, or accept it. But Louis was right. She knew that cancer was reported in the most ancient of medical records…it just didn’t used to be so prevalent. Unfortunately, it didn’t matter if she didn’t want to accept the truth. That’s what makes the truth what it is. It exists whether you like it or not.

  She dropped her head. “I know, Louis. I do. I get it. There’s always been disease, but I just…I just thought that we could go back to the days of Hippocrates and actually let food be our medicine.”

  “And we are, Fi,” Louis agreed. “We can’t undo what humans have done since Hippocrates. But we can try.”

  Darryl reached into the canvas bag and pulled out empty Ziploc bags and Sharpies. “Here, Fi. Maybe this will make you feel better.”

  “What’s this?”

  “Sampling bags,” Darryl said. “Not only do we want you to spread the heirloom grasses, we want you to take samples of any seeds, shoots, or plants you see growing in the Dead Zones. And, we also want you to gather samples of any remaining food crops you come across, like orchards.”

  Fi frowned, confused, and then remembered that they’d had the stations send samples of their crops from the first Seeding. “So you’re doing genetic typing on these samples?”

  “Yes,” Darryl nodded. “We’re going to try to find the GM strain wherever we can and eradicate it. We may be able to determine regions where it’s more prevalent, and reduce farming in those regions until Sickfoods have all been destroyed. It’s not going to be an overnight process, but we still believe we can eradicate the GM strain if we put our minds to it. We’ll continue having the stations send us samples, but you’ll be travelling in new regions, so we’ll need samples from there as well.”

  Fi mulled this information over in silence, and the rest of the group gave her time. She was in charge of the seeding aspect of the trips, so this was her conversation, but she couldn’t argue with facts. If the GM strain was still out there, it was still out there. Darryl was right. Fixing this wasn’t going to be an overnight process. She would just have to make her peace with that and do what she could to help.

  “Of course we’ll do the wild seeding as well, and hope for the best,” she finally agreed. “If it goes well, maybe Dead Zones will be a thing of the past sooner than we think.”

  Regardless of her concerns, Fi knew that it was important to focus on the positives. Prior to this meeting, she hadn’t even thought that they could tackle the Dead Zones, just the food crops. The fact that Darryl and Louis believed that the Dead Zones were recoverable was good news, not bad. These days it could be hard to tell the difference, but to be honest, if she really thought about it, she was more encouraged than anything else. So the GM strain might still be out there, sh
e thought. So what? It was just one more thing to tackle.

  She smiled at the serious faces surrounding her. “C’mon, guys. We’ve heard far worse in our lives. Aren’t you all excited to visit the Windy City?”

  Asher swallowed a laugh, surprised by her turn of mind. “Of course, Fi. It’s going to be a great summer Seed.”

  As they adjourned, Sara grabbed her by the elbow. “I’m so excited, Fi, it’s been killing me to be stuck here.”

  “I know how you feel,” Fi replied. “It’s hard to leave people behind, but nothing feels as good as being Topside.” Despite the devastation and the danger, Fi was comforted by the open skies and fresh breezes of the surface. She couldn’t wait to travel at a run again, feeling the world pass by like a dream. “It’s going to be even more dangerous this year, though.”

  “I know,” Sara’s voice registered the reality, but her face remained pink with excitement.

  “Oh, I almost forgot, Sara,” Fi joked. “You actually like danger.”

  In the Wild

  ---------- Fi ----------

  Fi jogged along feeling content. It was a gorgeous day in May, her favorite month. The air was thick with the scent of flowers and competing explosions of color screamed for attention. The azure sky, the verdant leaves, the clusters of pink blooms floating in the breeze like wisps of cotton candy. It was impossible to be depressed in May.

  They had been running for the better part of the morning, seeking signs of Topsiders. With this Seed they were entering all new territory, and had to be on their guard. Who knew how many Topsider families they would be able to find, or how many would be friendly? So far, they hadn’t encountered another group, but Fi knew it was only a matter of time. Approaching the Great Lakes from the north, the foursome was still deep within the borders of Canada, in areas that were rural even before the Famine. Moving through the forest at a good pace, they stopped when they hit the border of the first major Dead Zone.

  “Wait,” Fi squinted. “If there’s a water source here, we have to find it so that we can do the wild Seeding.” A distant smudge hinted of cover, some bushes maybe, or a few desperate trees. She pointed. “There must be water. Let’s go.”

  As they made their way into the parched wasteland, Fi felt naked under the spotlight of the sun. Usually they never left the cover of the woods. She found her eyes darting across the horizon, searching the wavering air for possible attackers. Her heart picked up and she started to felt jumpy. Stop it! She chided herself. You’ll be fine. Besides, the mission to reseed this death trap is too important. She put her head down and marched.

  In an hour, they drew near the small oasis of vegetation. The trudge had been oppressively hot, and they were grateful to find the shallow, glittering stream. Fi sipped from her canteen, her eyes following the wisp of quicksilver as it wound and pooled its way across the blistering dustbowl. This was perfect, she thought. Just like Louis had said. She dropped her pack and rummaged through it, pulling out the first bag of wild seeds. She handed it around for each Seeder to grab a handful. The breeze whistled, spinning half-hearted dust devils that stung as they passed.

  Fi rolled her fingers through the seeds. They were, cool, granular, and burgeoning with hope. If she closed her eyes, she could picture the healthy meadow that once flourished in this spot. She could imagine the seeds dropping from her fingertips and landing on moistened soil. She could feel the seeds awaken, burst open, and then dig, and stretch, and find purchase. They would grow, she thought as she took a deep breath. They would grow. Winds would ruffle the stalks, bending and twisting them into soft waves. And one day, goldfinches would swoop over the grasses once again, picking off insects and cheeping “potato chip, potato chip.”

  She opened her eyes. “Shall we say something to mark this moment?”

  “Yes,” Asher agreed. “Let’s do that.” The four looked at each other, seeking inspiration. After a moment they all laughed, realizing that no one had the right words.

  Suddenly Fi brightened. “Oh, I have it!”

  Raising her arm to shoulder height she began to back away from them, along the muddy bank of the stream. She opened her fingers to shake the seeds loose. They tumbled from her hand, blowing and rolling in the breeze as they landed.

  “Here’s to the great Johnny Appleseed!” she cried, a rare giggle escaping her lips.

  “Well done,” Sean chuckled. “So be it.” He waded across the shallow stream to the other side, gesturing to Sara to follow him. As he released his seeds, he uttered the same silly invocation. “Here’s to the great Johnny Appleseed. May our efforts be as fruitful as his.”

  “God, Sean,” Asher groaned. “That was absolutely awful.”

  Sean grinned unabashedly as Fi chimed in. “I agree. That was an almost unforgivable pun.”

  “This coming from the woman who came up with the Johnny Appleseed comment in the first place,” Sean fired back, and Fi bit her tongue. He had her there.

  They continued in their work and Fi’s heart swelled as more seeds scattered from her fingers. Though she said nothing aloud this time, she secretly recited a prayer. Please, she thought fervently. Please God, if you’re there…if you’re listening…please let this work.

  They took their time, checking to ensure that the seeds landed on good, moist soil so that they would not be wasted. Fi also took the opportunity to sample a few of the scraggly bushes that had managed to grow in the Dead Zone. None seemed to be grasses, but she reminded herself that her task was simply to gather information, not to judge its usefulness in advance.

  The others went ahead toward the birch forest lining the edge of the Dead Zone while Fi stopped to tuck her samples into her pack. As she zipped it closed, a strange low rumbling suddenly filled the air. It almost reminded her of a motor, but deeper. What was that? She cocked an ear. She saw the others stop and she scooted to catch up to them. The rumble sounded again. It was so low that Fi almost felt it more than she heard it, like it rolled past her, thudding in waves against her chest. It tugged at her memories, triggering something, but she couldn’t put her finger on what it was.

  “What is that?” Sara frowned. “You guys hear that, right?”

  “Sort of,” Sean said. “It’s more like I feel it.”

  Suddenly a loud, pealing cry broke the silence and Fi’s vague memories snapped into clarity. “Elephants!” she cried. “Run for the woods!”

  The rumble continued behind them as they bolted for the trees, the sound growing closer as another trumpet blared. As Fi ran, she felt a burning desire to look over her shoulder, but she knew that they had to find cover fast. The four dove behind trees once they reached the forest. Fi’s heart raced with exhilaration, desperate to see the elephants, but she couldn’t let her inner naturalist get carried away. Elephants were no joke. She peered deeper into the trees, searching for signs of movement.

  “We have to be on guard,” she whispered. “They could be in the forest too.”

  “Fi, are they really elephants?” Sara asked, excited.

  Another trumpet sounded from just a hundred yards away and they covered their ears. All eyes were locked on the Dead Zone. Despite Fi’s surety that the noises they’d heard had come from elephants, she still felt a surge of adrenaline when she saw the train of giant shadows trundling along in a cloud of dust. Holy cow.

  Big ears, Fi noted. Must be African elephants…probably females. There were too many together to be males and…she gasped. A calf trotted from behind the striding legs of its grown relatives. She heard Sara and Sean snort beside her. The calf was ridiculously adorable. Still very young, it ran with its trunk curled against its head, emitting funny little bleating sounds. At times it skipped along like a happy puppy. Fi stifled a giggle. Despite the adorableness on display, this was serious. In fact, it was even more so with a calf present.

  “Guys, elephants are very, very dangerous,” she said. “We have to freeze and wait until they leave.”

  She put her finger to her lips. All eyes tu
rned back to the giant, miraculous creatures now wallowing in the shallow waters of the stream. As it turned out, freezing in place was easy. Fi was mesmerized as she watched the monolithic family. It felt like she’d stepped right into an old nature special, with the animals of the Veldt clustered by the watering holes. The calf drank and then sprayed his back while one of the adult females stroked him with her trunk. Occasionally, she scooped up mud and smacked it onto his little back, his shoulders wiggling as it dripped from his hide. He gave a tiny, peeping trumpet, and then scuttled beneath her.

  Fi’s heart softened as she realized that this was the calf’s mother. He butted his head gently into his mother’s enormous, grey bulk as he nursed. The mother swayed slightly, her tail and trunk swishing as the low, pleasant rumbles rolled from her chest. Fi knew they had to stay on guard. If they made one false move, an incensed mother or aunt could trample them in seconds. But as she watched them play and touch each other, their trunks twisting into a playful slap or a soft caress…she couldn’t help but be thankful.

  When she’d touched an elephant once as a girl, it had been in a zoo. It hadn’t known a life of wandering the plains, nibbling greens, and raising calves that frolicked in streams. She knew that they were intelligent, but somehow she hadn’t realized just how loving a mind lay behind that scratchy, dusty trunk. The elephants had their fill and moved on, the rumbles trailing in their wake as they headed in the opposite direction.

  Once they had melted into a distant blur of movement on the horizon, Fi took a deep breath.

  “Phew,” she said, and collapsed onto the ground, her back against the tree.

  They all sank back in relief. “I can’t believe it, Fi,” Asher breathed. “It’s just like you said.”

  Sean looked at her quizzically.