by James Hunt
Plans and schematics lay across the desk in his study, and he returned his focus to what his mind was better than anyone else’s at: making weapons. The conflict with the Soil Coalition had given him so many questions to answer, and he’d spent the past month trying to find the solutions to them. He was so lost in thought that he didn’t notice his son was in the room until he tapped on his desk.
“Hello, father,” Sydney said.
Jared gave a curt nod then returned to his work. “I see you’re healing up nicely.”
Sydney rotated his shoulder and glanced over at the stitches still underneath. The air between them was filled with nothing but empty silence. The only reprieve from the lack of sound was the sporadic scribble of Jared’s pencil. Finally, once Jared realized Sydney wasn’t leaving, he set his pencil down and looked up at his son. “Well? What is it?”
“I’ll most likely be called as a witness once the president’s tried,” Sydney answered. “I may be asked questions about what I did for the Coalition. And what I did for you.”
Jared raised his eyebrow. His son’s tone had the heightened sense of a threat but with the shaking voice of a man who hoped he wouldn’t have to deliver it. “And what do you plan on telling them?”
“The truth.”
Jared gave a few short bursts that resembled a laugh but were closer to grunts as he leaned back in his chair, folding his hands on the back of his head. “The president giving you a spat of courage, boy? Well, you do what you have to do, but in the spirit of truth, know that I have no qualms about ordering a hit on any person in my organization who betrays me. Including you.”
“Goodbye, father.”
Sydney closed the door behind him, and Jared returned to his work, smiling at the sketches on his table. Odd structures and outlines of machines covered the papers, and at the top, scribbled in sloppy cursive, was “Genetic Defense.”
***
Todd looked up from the microscope and then rolled his chair over to his computer, where he struck the keys furiously, adding to the notes already in the system. “Where are we with the Wyoming deliveries?”
“They’re loaded up and ready to go, Professor.”
A small plaque rested outside the door to his lab that read Stanford Biochemistry. Most of the equipment was still being dusted off, but it only took Todd and a team of about thirty other scientists a few weeks to get it back up and running. The place was almost as good as new.
Todd leaned back in his chair, scratching his head, looking over the samples he had just packaged. Since he was put in charge of the mass production and distribution of the soil treatment, he wasn’t going to get anything wrong. The country’s recovery depended on it. “Hey, guys, we need to make sure we’re checking off the packages once they’re gone.”
“I’m sure everyone is double-checking everything,” Emma said, sneaking up behind him and wrapping her arms around his neck. He smiled, kissed her hand, then turned to hug her.
“I didn’t realize you were stopping by today.”
“We received a package,” Emma said, extending a brown box. Todd took it and flipped it over in his hands. The name on the return address said Alex Grives. “I thought you should be the one to open it.”
Todd peeled the paper slowly until the cover of the book Alex had shipped to him was exposed. He smiled. “Hemingway.” It was the same book Todd had gone to drop off the night Alex stole the soil data. He opened the cover, and inside on the first page was a handwritten note:
Todd and Emma,
There are no words to express how much I am still indebted to you or how much the country is indebted to you, so I’ll simply say thank you. There is no equal to the pain I caused you or to the contributions you have given to the rest of us. You saved the country. If you ever find your way to Kansas, please, stop by. It would be an honor to see you again, and an even greater one to meet the newest addition to your family.
With much respect,
Alex Grives
Emma placed both hands over her stomach, and Todd placed one of his over both of hers. She had a tear in her eye, and he wiped it away from her cheek before it rolled down her face.
“We get to start over,” Emma said.
“Yes,” Todd answered. “We all do.”
***
The first green tufts of corn sprouted up through the ground, and Alex dusted some of the rich, black earth off the tops as he squatted to examine his new crops. Meeko joined him and started poking the bits of green with his finger.
“When can we eat it?” Meeko asked.
“We still have some time to wait before that happens.”
“Well, good thing there’s food in the fridge, then.”
Alex sat there, examining the piece of land now teeming with life. Before the Soil Coalition, this was his parents’ farm. This was where he grew up, and it seemed like a good place for Meeko to grow up too. There was plenty of room to run and for a kid to be outside. But of everything Alex had loved about this place growing up, it now had the most important attribute he could think of. Unlike the gray, morbid Coalition communities, this place was surrounded by life. And that was something both Meeko and Alex needed to keep growing.
“Hey,” Alex said, looking down at Meeko, who was still prodding the green sprouts, “race you to the door?”
Meeko smiled and jumped to his feet. The two lined up, each poised to dash down their row of dirt toward the house. Alex smiled. “You ready?” Meeko nodded. “Go!”