by K. Makansi
“Why not?” he asks. The question isn’t angry or demanding.
“For the same reason you wouldn’t, I presume,” Linnea says, pulling the ponytail holder off her hair and letting it swing loose. “Besides, I think Corine still has her followed in case you contact her. And she wouldn’t have survived a day out here.”
“And you’re doing so well yourself,” I say.
“I’m here, aren’t I? My goal is to find Eli and I’m on my way to see him, so yes, I think I’m doing just fine. A shower would be nice, but—”
“I keep thinking of Jahnu. What would Moriana think if she knew he was hurt?” Remy interrupts.
“Who’s Jahnu?” Linnea asks, as if Remy’s question was the stupidest thing she’d ever heard. Her momentary brush with kindness was short lived.
“Don’t you remember? Moriana’s cousin. He was at our house a lot when you were there with Tai.”
“Nerdy skinny kid?” She glares at Remy as though she’s offended her personally by expecting her to remember a little boy of no consequence. But then she sits up a little straighter and her expression turns into something resembling a concerned frown, probably realizing there’s information here, information that could one day be traded for something more. Her voice softens into a tone of comfort. “Why? What happened to him?”
“None of your damn business,” Remy snaps.
It’s early afternoon when shadow descends over the forest, too dark and too sudden to be a cloud. My first thought is, where is Remy? My second is I hope death comes quickly, thinking the shadow to be a Sector airship that had caught up with us and was ready to burn the forest around us. The horses shy and skitter, trying to bolt for cover, but when a booming voice from above calls out, I can’t help but smile.
“Y’all gonna take all day getting to the rendezvous or what?”
“Firestone!” Remy shouts behind me, abandoning any pretense we might have had at attempting to travel quietly. The airship moves away from us and in the distance I can see it descend below the tree line and out of sight. Even Chan-Yu is anxious and he urges the horses forward in an easy canter until we reach the edge of the clearing where the airship is waiting at the water’s edge of a wide and peaceful lake. There’s a sliver of a beach, a gentle slope that leads down to the water marked with fallen branches, pebbles, and gritty sand.
Standing by the water’s edge is Kenzie, her bright red curls flying in all directions around her face. She looks at us with a fragmented smile, as if her mind is in a thousand places and only a tiny part is here. When Remy jumps off her horse and runs to her, her composure splinters. As she wraps her arms around Remy and buries her face in her shoulder, my stomach clenches and fear settles in my gut like a vise, but then Kenzie starts laughing through her tears. I can hear Remy talking excitedly, and a happy buoyancy floods through me. Jahnu must be okay.
Soren follows Remy’s lead, breaking away from Osprey’s touch for the first time in almost a week, and when he reaches Kenzie’s side he picks her up and swings her around like a child.
“What’s going on?” Linnea asks, as insensitively as humanly possible. As she slides off her horse, she shakes her hair out, arranging herself beside her horse as if she were modeling for a Sector broadcast on the healthy virtues of outdoor life. She straightens her shirt, pinches her cheeks, bites her lip, and waits, looking very perturbed by the celebration happening without her permission.
The cargo hold opens and Eli and Firestone descend down the gangway. We all turn and watch as he squints into the sunlight, his mouth drops open, and he comes to a stop in the sand just a few meters from Linnea in all her golden glory.
“What the hell are you doing here?” he demands.
Her face falls for just a moment, before she puts on a smiling broadcast-quality mask.
“I was hoping for a somewhat more welcoming greeting, Elijah.”
“I don’t care what you were hoping for. How the fuck did you get here? And why?” He turns to us accusingly, as if we conjured her up to spite him.
“Isn’t it obvious?” Her perfect smile is fighting a valiant battle to stay on her lips, and I catch myself feeling something I never thought would apply to Linnea Heilmann: pity. “I came looking for you.”
“You what?” he asks, dumbfounded. I now truly understand the meaning of that word. Linnea, too, looks speechless, shocked mute by the strange idea that someone could not desire her presence. Firestone speaks up to break the tension.
“We got the whole ride home for catchin’ up, ladies and gentlemen. We picked up a lot of drone activity on our way here and will have to go the long way home to avoid them, even with cloaking. So load ’em up, cowboys, it’s time to head back to the corral.”
My horse, Mistral, and I are the closest to the airship, so I start guiding her by the reins up the loading ramp. She, however, seems to have a different idea, and is none too eager to walk into a giant metal compartment. Her eyes are wild and her ears flat as she stomps and backs up, refusing to walk more than halfway up the ramp.
“Whoa, girl,” I say and try to act like Chan-Yu or Miah handling their horses, but I’m obviously not pulling it off.
“Here,” Remy says, taking the reins from me as she leads her own horse. She puts her hand on Mistral’s neck, stroking her calmly and muttering something I can’t hear. “She’ll calm down if she has a friend to walk up with.” A set of reins in each hand, Remy walks the two horses up the ramp together, and suddenly Mistral doesn’t seem quite as reluctant.
“How’d you learn to do that?”
“You mean living with these animals all this time wasn’t enough to figure them out?” She runs her hand over her horse’s mane. “They’re herd animals. You just have to take control and show them there’s a leader to follow.”
“I thought I was doing that.”
“Maybe you’re still a little nervous around her.”
I pat Mistral’s nose and she nickers at me. “Maybe she was just playing hard to get.”
“Right,” Remy laughs.
“Well, she’s not the only girl I’m still nervous around. Maybe I’ll win them both over yet.” I pull out few pieces of broken carrots that I’ve been carrying in my pocket and flatten my hand to let Mistral’s velvety lips pluck them from my palm.
“Broken carrots and pocket lint always win over even the most hard-hearted maiden,” Remy says. After a pause, she continues, “In case you didn’t hear, Jahnu’s gonna make it. He’s not walking yet, but he’s going to be okay.”
“That’s the best news we’ve had in a long time.”
“It’s a huge weight off my shoulders,” she admits. She smiles up at me and my insides thrum. “Before we left that morning, I visited him in the infirmary. He told me to go out into the world and make some magic.” She sighs, shakes her head. “But still, I felt guilty. He was injured because of my great idea to go to Round Barn in the first place. But now … now maybe I can take his advice. It’s time to allow myself a little happiness.” And then she turns to get the horses into position, tying them up at the rail, and I let out my breath in a long, slow exhale.
26 - REMY
Spring 27, Sector Annum 106, 10h15
Gregorian Calendar: April 15
I cling to my father’s side as we walk through the halls of an old, abandoned factory complex outside of the city that used to be called Rochester. Before Firestone and Eli improved our drone-jamming technology, we never would have dared set up a base so close to Okaria. Now, technically, we are within Sector borders, not far from the port where Soren and I escaped last winter. If we’re going to disrupt the food distribution chain, we need to be between the Farms and the Dietician’s headquarters in Okaria.
“Just in time!” the Director calls to us as we open the door to the operations center. “We’re about to start.”
It’s a large room full of faces, some I recognize and some I don’t. The Director and Eli are standing in the center of the room, flanked by Chan-Yu, Soo-Sun,
and Osprey. Chan-Yu looks as calm and composed as ever; Osprey, by contrast, keeps bouncing up onto the balls of her feet as if unable to contain her excitement. She’ll be representing the Outsiders today because neither Chan-Yu nor Soo-Sun relish putting on a ‘dog and pony show’. Soren, who is usually by her side, is with Bear, Rose, and Luis, meeting with some of the other refugees from Round Barn.
Since we were picked up by Eli and Firestone, things have been happening so fast, we’ve hardly had time to think straight. Vale, especially, hasn’t had a moment’s peace since he told us all about his C-Link, Demeter. Today, Vale, Eli, and Osprey are going to outline their plan for disrupting the Sector’s food supply chain. My father and I take our seats next to Kenzie and Jahnu—Jahnu’s now off the oxygen and able to get around pretty well with a cane. I look around for Vale, to no avail. It’s not like him to be late to a meeting.
“Are we ready to go?” Eli asks, impatient.
“Where the hell is Vale?” the Director snaps, as if suddenly noticing his absence.
“He’ll be here,” Eli assures her. He’s confident, edgy with excitement, and grinning that wide, lopsided grin that my sister loved so much—and, apparently—so does Linnea. We’ve been back almost two weeks and Eli has accomplished what none of us thought possible. He’s avoided all contact with Linnea and, to my astonishment, I almost feel sorry for her.
“Take your seats, everyone,” the Director commands and soon the room is quiet. Apparently we are going to begin the meeting without Vale. “This is the moment we’ve been waiting for,” she begins. “The board is set and the game is about to begin. For the first time, we have a workable strategy. I ask that you all take notes and keep your questions until the end. There’ll be plenty of time to go through every aspect of the plan when the presentations are complete. I’m depending on all of you to do your damndest to poke holes in the plan, identify the weaknesses so we can address them. If you have a concern, you need to voice it. Got it?”
There’s a buzz in the room and everyone’s nodding, flipping open their v-scrolls.
“Okay, here’s what’s going down,” Eli begins. “By now you all know about the LOTUS database, the digital seed bank Professor Kanaan Adrian encoded for Dr. Rhinehouse and Dr. Hawthorne. The genetic codes for all the Old world seed varietals Kanaan could find were sequenced and preserved in this database through artificial DNA storage. We also know all too well that we’ll never be able to break the OAC’s stranglehold on the Sector and its citizens until we disrupt their chain of distribution. With the help of Dr. Rhinehouse and his assistant, former Dietician Dara Oban, the 3D printer we ‘borrowed’ from Seed Bank Hydrogen last week has already begun spitting out enormous quantities of unmodified seeds from the LOTUS database.”
Eli shoots a sly wink at Kenzie, red hair vibrant, face set and determined as she sits with her long freckled fingers clasped in Jahnu’s hand. She and Eli led the raid to acquire the printer and she and Jahnu both have been working on the team to get it up and running.
“Our task, now,” he continues, “is threefold. First, we infiltrate the Farms and begin substituting our unmodified seeds for the OAC’s seeds where possible. Second, we begin growing our own food from these seeds to distribute in small quantities outside the MealPak system. Third, we hijack the Sector’s own distribution system to bring this food to Sector citizens in the short term. Our goal is to begin to get the people of Okaria off of the modified food regimes without experiencing the kind of severe withdrawal symptoms we all went through when we came here. Once we’ve done all three things,” Eli says with a twinkle in his eye, “we can begin thinking about escalating our offensive against the Sector.”
“Which brings us to Vale,” the Director says.
Where is he?
She turns to Zoe, the girl who worked in the comm center at Normandy, and who is now apparently the Director’s right-hand woman, and says with a huff, “Go find him.” No sooner does Zoe stand up than Vale sweeps into the room, his mouth set, his eyes dark as a thundercloud.
“What’s wrong?” the Director says.
“It can wait.” His voice is clipped, controlled. He glances around the room until his gaze settles on mine and then, with a look I can’t decipher but makes me nervous, he takes his place at the front of the room. “Am I up?”
“It’s all yours,” Eli says, stepping back, giving Vale a wide berth.
Vale takes a deep breath and faces the group. “Not many of you know this yet, but over the course of the last five to ten years, the Sector has been assembling what could be the most powerful informational tool in history.” He reaches up to his ear and, fumbling slightly, pulls off what looks like a flap of skin. There are some muffled whispers of ugh and what the hell? from the audience, and I, too, would be shocked if I hadn’t seen him do it before. He holds it up, but it’s so small, so transparent, it’s hard to see. “This tiny little patch of fiber connects me to the largest information storehouse amassed since the Internet, otherwise known as the World Wide Web, of the Old World. We call it a Comm-Link, or a C-Link, and through it, I can access every single public or government file currently on the Sector network.”
Skeptical, hesitant looks transform into wide-eyed gasps. Vale hesitates, looking almost fondly at the patch of fibers in his hand. But then he comes back, and looks up and around at his audience, and his politician’s instinct for public speaking comes back to him. A confident, almost radiant calmness descends on him as he speaks, the kind that just makes you want to believe everything he says. It’s a dangerous ability, one that kept me from trusting him for too long. Or, maybe, should I still be more careful?
“Many of you didn’t trust me when I first arrived. Maybe nobody did. Maybe you still don’t. I’m an Orleán and that makes me potentially treacherous and dangerous. Half the reason there are dozens of squads of Black Ops prowling the Wilds looking for us is because of me. And you still might think I’m not trustworthy, just because I’ll always be Corine’s son. But whether you trust me or not, this tool, this C-Link, is the best and probably only chance you have at bringing down the OAC entirely.
“The fibers I hold in my hand mold exclusively to my skin and respond only to my command. There are only eleven of these in existence and they belong to the highest officials in the Sector and the Consortium. Two to my parents. Five to the OAC’s Board of Directors. One to Evander Sun-Zi, and two to Generals Conrad and Lara. One to me. It was a graduation present,” he says with a heavy sigh, then collects himself again.
“With my C-Link, we can access every passcode in the database, break into every top-secret research lab, hijack the drone and navigation systems, view the blueprints for every Seed Bank and the layouts of every military craft in operation. This tiny little piece of fiber is our connection to every bit of information we could ever want or need in our battle.”
“You say ‘we’ like you’re one of us,” a voice calls from the crowd. I can’t identify the voice, and the man has stopped speaking before I can locate him.
“He is,” I growl in the direction of the voice, defending him, though whether for his sake or to prove to myself that I really do trust him, I’m not sure.
“I am,” he proclaims loudly, much to my surprise. I spin around to watch him. His expression, far from the tortured, angry look he sported when he entered the room, is confident, determined. “I wouldn’t have left everything behind in Okaria if I didn’t know in my heart of hearts that what they’re doing is wrong.” He pauses. “I don’t want a civil war. I don’t want more bloodshed. That’s why I’m doing everything in my power to see that Eli’s plan works.”
This is Vale at his finest, when he’s speaking his mind plainly and simply. These are the moments I remember most from when we were friends—and more than friends. The times when he was telling me why he loved studying history, or about his physics research, or when he was losing himself in his music. Those raw bits of honesty that shine through sometimes. You want to follow him anywhere.
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“But there is one drawback.”
“Figures,” someone says.
“I knew it was too good to be true,” another whispers.
“The problem is that this tool is only accessible when I’m within range of the Sector’s networks. Which means I either have to be at an administrative station in one of the Farms or Factory towns, or I have to be in the capital. So I’m going back.”
The room explodes.
“Going back?”
“Why the hell are we letting him leave alive?”
“He’ll turn us in as soon as he’s back home with mommy and daddy.”
We knew some would react like this, and Vale stands there and takes it, his jaw clenching and unclenching until the clamor dies down. The Director speaks up, her voice sharp as a blade.
“Are you finished?” The room falls silent. “I want everyone here to understand this: Vale has earned my trust. He’s earned Dr. Rhinehouse’s trust. And he’s earned Gabriel’s trust. I hope that is good enough for the rest of you. If not, take it up with me after the meeting.”
Vale’s shoulders rise and fall as he continues. “A team of engineers is setting up the secure link I’ll use to transmit data back to you. Whatever I learn, you’ll learn. Whatever documents I gain access to, Dem—my C-Link will transmit to you. This is the only way we can meet them on a level playing field. They can out-man us and out-gun us, so we have to outsmart them. And we have Remy’s video from Round Barn. We’re going to hack into the Sector’s broadcast system and play it for everyone to see.” He steps back and looks over at Chan-Yu, Soo-Sun, and Osprey. “Now it’s time to hear from our allies in this effort. The Outsiders. Osprey?”
As she steps up, Vale backs away and catches my eyes again, letting his gaze linger for just a second before flicking back toward Osprey. His face is composed, but it’s like he’s wearing a mask, a mask he’s trying hard to keep in place. Something’s wrong.