by Kody Boye
I turn to look out my window only to find a sight I could never possibly imagine.
The farmlands—if they can even be called that, for they appear to be continents upon which vegetables grow—extend into the distance for as far as the eye can see. Wheat bows along the roadside in silent greeting, while alongside the roads tuberous vegetables and even fruits snake their greenery alongside the pavement. There is food for as far as the eye can see, but what is even more surprising are the gargantuan machines that water and pick them, all seemingly of their own volition.
“Are those—” I say.
“The machines I work on?” Daniel asks. “Yes. They are.”
I take note of tall, glistening figures as they maneuver in the fields and frown. “What are… those?” I ask.
“They’re called Silver Bots,” Daniel says. “Look closer. One’s coming up to the road now.”
The creature—if it can be called that, for it appears to be a mismatch of metal—resembles a human in shape, but bears no eyes, nose, or mouth upon its domed head. Its three fingers on one hand expertly take hold of a strawberry bush while another plucks them with two fingers on the other, depositing them into a basket whose depths are filled with fruit.
“They’re—” I start.
“Machines,” Daniel replies. “Artificial intelligence.”
“I’ve never seen such a thing before,” I say, awestruck by the sight before me.
“They operate on a computer network that exists in the city,” Daniel explains, “and work day and night along with our other farming equipment to ensure that the fields are always tended. They pick fruit, cut wheat, harvest vegetables, and keep animals out of the fields.”
“Wow,” I say. “It’s… just—”
“A lot to take in. Yeah. I know.” Daniel turns his head to look out the front window. “We’re coming up on my parents’ house now.”
I’m not sure what to say as we drive toward it. Built alongside an orchard, and dwelling off a dirt road, the home rises two stories high, and is painted in a royal shade of red that reminds me of the dress Ceyonne wore on the red carpet that first night in the Glittering City. A sprawling porch lines the front of the house, a roofed balcony the second floor. I find myself staring, only to realize that this is the home I’ll soon be living in alongside Daniel.
“Are they expecting us?” I ask as we draw closer.
“Yes,” Daniel says. “At least, I think so.”
Within moments we are pulling off the main road and onto the dirt drive.
As the car comes to a stop, the reality of the situation begins to set in.
This place is to be my home.
Four
The driver disengages the engine and remains silent as the two SADs exit the vehicle. Nervous beyond compare, but knowing that things will likely be less formal now that we have arrived, I wait for our doors to be opened by our guards before stepping out into the warm, humid air.
“This is—” I start to say.
“Home,” Daniel finishes.
The front door opens, and before whomever can step out, a large black dog comes bounding forward, clearing the steps leading up to the porch with a single leap.
“Hey boy!” Daniel says as the dog barrels into his legs. “I’ve missed you!”
“It’s about time you showed up,” a woman says.
I lift my eyes to find a woman with a sorcerer’s streak running through her dark hair looking out the doorway at us. She holds, in one hand, a single silver plate, which she works to polish with a rag in her right hand.
“Hey Ma,” Daniel says. “I’m sorry we didn’t get here sooner. There were—”
“Complications. Yes. I know.” The woman centers her gaze on me as she begins to come down the stairs. “You must be Kelendra.”
“Yes ma’am,” I say. “I am.”
The woman acknowledges me with a bright smile and says, “Welcome home.”
Daniel adjusts my bag of belongings in his hand and makes his way forward, careful not to step on the overly rambunctious dog at his feet. He kisses his mother’s cheek, then wraps an arm around her shoulders before turning to look at me and saying, “Isn’t she beautiful?”
“Even prettier than the pictures,” she replies.
I blush. “Thank you,” I say, grimacing as the SADs come up alongside me and shadow me with their presence.
“Beauty,” one says. “Grace.”
Daniel tilts his head down to look at them.
“You have been explicitly instructed to remain on the property until further notice. Do not attempt to go into the city without an armed guard present; and if you feel at any point that you are being threatened, please remain indoors and contact the Southern Allegiance of Dames immediately.”
“Yes ma’am,” Daniel says. “We understand.”
I nod to make sure my understanding is clear.
“With that, we will take our leave. Enjoy your stay within the Farmlands.”
As the Dames enter, then drive off in the vehicle, Daniel’s mother lets out a monumental sigh and says, “So much caution for two people.”
“Someone did try and blow us up, Ma.”
“Still…” The woman shakes her head. “Come now. Your father was just finishing up lunch. I imagine the two of you are hungry.”
“Somewhat,” I admit, and follow the pair as they make their way up the stairs. The dog bounds ahead of them, then barks, as if to encourage their haste.
When we step into Daniel’s home, I am immediately struck by how quaint and old-fashioned it appears. With wooden planks on the floors and walls, it resembles nothing like the high-technology architecture one would find in the city. The only thing that points to a modern existence is the viewing screen on the wall across the threshold, which streams incoming information upon its surface.
“Frank!” Daniel’s mother calls.
“What is it, Mariah?” a man calls back.
“Your son and his wife are here!”
“Bring ‘em in! I’m almost done with the food!”
Daniel enters first, shortly followed by his mother. I go last—not because I feel as nervous, but because I feel lost here, in this home that is not my own, in a place that dwarfs any dwelling I have ever set foot within.
It’s like, I think, I’m seeing the whole world through a different lens.
And though I wish desperately to understand everything going on around me—to understand the machines, the people, and the world as I know it—I know that I am still new, and as a result, must adjust.
As we step into the kitchen, and as the man who is Daniel’s father turns to reveal a face that is nearly the spitting-image of my newlywed husband’s, I stop to admire everything around me.
“Kelendra?” the man named Frank asks.
“Yes, sir?” I ask, removing my sunglasses for the first time since entering the house.
“Welcome home.”
His voice, rich and velvety, is comforting, and instantly calms all my worries.
“Thank you,” I say.
“Sit. You both look hungry.”
I allow Daniel to pull the stool that rests beneath the kitchen island out for me and climb atop it just in time for Frank Cross to set several plates heaping with fried meats, eggs, and vegetables before us.
“Eat your fill,” Mariah Cross says. “This is your day.”
I carefully serve myself with the tongs that have been placed upon the table and wait for the Crosses to seat and serve themselves before taking my first bite.
“It’s delicious,” I say.
“You flatter me, dear,” Frank replies, dabbing his mouth with a handkerchief. “How are you feeling, now that you’re home?”
“I feel…” I pause, trying to conjure the words. “Relieved, I guess you could say. The Spire was suffocating.”
“I mean, it was for our own good,” Daniel offers. “But yeah. I agree.”
“You weren’t hurt that day?” Mariah asks.
> I shake my head. “No. Thankfully, there were SADs between us, so… they protected us.
“The world is a sad state of affairs, especially with the Fanatical breaching the city.”
“Do you have problems with them often?” I ask.
“No,” Frank says, his voice rough and his word clipped. “Thankfully, the men who keep watch over the fields are good at watching the walls.”
“We’re close to the walls?” I frown.
Frank nods. “Yes. But as I’ve said: we’ve men watching the walls day and night to ensure that no one attempts to climb over them, though I must say, we’re more concerned about people stealing our crop than we are anyone trying to hurt us.”
“Do people try to hop the fence often?”
“No,” Mariah says. “Thankfully, they’re deterred by our guns.”
Guns? I think.
“Don’t worry yourself over that though,” Mariah offers. “You have absolutely nothing to worry about, dear.”
Maybe not, but the fact that we are so close to the outskirts of the walled perimeter, let alone in proximity of people who have foolishly attempted to scale the walls, is a bit unsettling.
I try not to allow this to bother me as I continue to eat, but find myself thinking about it all the same.
Hungry people—
Starving mouths—
Desperate personalities—
Wall climbers—
Guns—
I look to the nearby window only to see the glistening Silver Bots maneuvering through the wheat nearby and blink as I stare at them.
“This must all be so new for you,” Mariah says, setting a hand over my own. “Don’t worry though. You’ll adjust in time.”
“I know,” I say. “I just… sometimes wonder if I’m the position to be who I am.”
“You were blessed,” Frank Cross says. “Take pride in where the Great God guided you.”
“I do, sir. And thank you.”
We finish breakfast; and though my first inclination is to offer to help clean up, Daniel’s mother brushes me aside by saying, “Nonsense. We’ll take care of this.”
“You’re sure?” I ask. It’s not like I haven’t washed dishes before. Maybe not knives, but dishes.
Mariah nods. “Go, honey. Daniel will show you where you’ll be sleeping.”
“Follow me,” Daniel says.
We climb the stairway to the second floor and take a left down a hall that holds a single door, at which Daniel enters, then turns and waits for me to step inside. I hesitate, but only because I’m unsure whether or not I’m supposed to walk straight in.
“This is our room,” he offers.
“Oh,” I say, then crane my head about before entering.
The interior is lush with cream-colored furniture. White trim adorns the walls, making the room appear large and quaint, while a massive window looks out at not only the eastern fields, but other homes beyond.
“This is beautiful,” I say, looking forever into the distance.
“I knew you’d like it,” Daniel says, stepping forward and pressing a hand against my back. He draws closer, though hesitantly at that, before sliding an arm around my waist and drawing against me. “Is this okay?”
“What?”
“My arm. Like this?”
“It’s fine,” I reply, choosing to ignore the potentially-awkward conversation of presumed intimacy by watching the Bots in the field below.
“I know we’re still getting used to each other, but if at any point I make you uncomfortable, all you have to do is tell me. Okay?”
“Okay. Thank you.”
Daniel draws away and steps toward the large desk that stands before the window. “This is where I did all my preliminary studies,” he says, sliding a hand along the desk. “Where I slaved away to make sure I earned marks good enough to apply for the College of Dynamic Engineering.”
“Those machines,” I say, “the Silver ones.”
“Are beyond my comprehension. I work on the big ones—the ones that look like they’re animals spraying water into the air.”
“Why not the smaller ones?”
“I’m still studying.”
“Oh.” I reach back to test the rigidity of the mattress before settling down upon the bed.
“Is something wrong?”
“No. I’m just… tired. And feeling a bit overwhelmed.”
“Why?” Daniel frowns. “Do you not like it here?”
“Your parents are nice. It just… makes me miss home a little, you know?”
“I wish I could understand how you were feeling. I’m sorry I can’t.”
“Don’t be, Daniel. This…” I look around the room. “This is where I’m supposed to be. I know it.”
“Is there anything I could do to make you more comfortable?”
“I honestly think I just need some time to adjust.”
“All right.” Daniel settles down on the bed beside me. “So… about your Purpose.”
I blink, turning my head to face him.
“Do you have any ideas on what you might do to build morale?”
“I think,” I say, “that if we sent creature comforts, that might help.”
“The men in the wilds don’t get much in the way of comfort, do they?”
“Not from what my father said, no.”
“Did he ever talk about the war?”
“Not really—at least, not to me, anyway. He tried to keep that sort of thing quiet. He didn’t want to worry me, you know?”
“I know.” Daniel sighs, then leans forward to consider the wooden floor before saying, “I have to be in the fields tomorrow, so… you’ll be here alone with Mom.”
“And your father?” I ask. “What does he do?”
“He’s technically my boss.”
“Oh.”
Daniel smiles. “Yeah. Dad’s good with numbers, so he keeps track of the crop when it’s picked, when it goes out, when seeds for the new year comes in.”
“Are winters hard here?”
“Cold,” Daniel says, “but not hard. Why?”
I sigh. “They were hard in the Sandstone Hills.”
“We have central heating, so you won’t have to worry about being cold this year.”
I guess, I think, but say nothing. I’m mostly thinking of my mother and father, bound to their existences devoid of technology. It makes me wish I could do something—anything—for them.
Before I can respond, Daniel stands. “I have to go let Dad know that I’m ready to be in the fields tomorrow,” he says. “You can stay here, if you’d like.”
“I don’t know what good it’d do to go with you”
“Relax then. Take your shoes off. I’ll be back in a little bit.”
“Thank you, Daniel,” I say.
Though he leaves me with a sense of belonging I have rarely, if ever felt before, I can’t help but feel utterly alone.
My Purpose hasn’t even been decided upon yet and already I’m feeling lost.
Oh well, I think. Not much you can do about it now.
No. I can’t do anything about it now.
All I have to do is wait.
Night falls swiftly, and with it a rain the likes of which I have never seen arrives. Battering the windows, and shaking the frames, it causes the glass separating us to frost over, preventing anything from being seen outside.
“I’ve never seen it rain like this before,” I say.
“No?” Daniel asks.
I shake my head. “It… rained in the Sandstone Hills, but never like this.”
“It’s because we’re closer to the coast,” Daniel offers. He steps up beside me and presses a hand against the small of my back. “Do you need anything? A drink? Maybe some tea?”
“No,” I reply. “I’m just… cold, is all.”
“We could go to bed.”
I close my eyes and allow a sigh to pass from my lips. Daniel, in response, pulls his hand away, then turns and makes his way back arou
nd the desk.
“I’m sorry,” I say.
“For what?” Daniel replies.
“For being… distant… I guess you could say.”
“You don’t have to apologize, Kel. This is new for both of us.”
“I know. It’s just… well…” I pause, and wait for the right words to hit me before speaking them. “I’m just not used to the idea of someone commanding my body.”
“You mean…” Daniel pauses too. A short moment later, he finishes by saying, “The ‘having children’ thing.”
I nod.
“It’s not like it’s something we can avoid,” Daniel says. “It has to happen eventually.”
“I know it does.”
“And I’m not just saying that because I think you need to be with me either. They… uh… test you.”
“Test me?”
“The women. To make sure they’ve, uh… been trying.”
“They do what?” I ask, spinning to face Daniel. The look on his face confirms that he is confident in his words. “You’ve got to be kidding.”
“I wish I could say I was, but I’m not.”
“How do you know this?”
“I was friends with Jonathan Givings, before the… well… accident.”
“Wait. Jonathan Givings? You mean Wednesday Givings’ husband?”
“Yeah. Wednesday. You know, the Free Living advocate?”
“I know who you’re talking about.”
“Apparently they were hesitant at first when they first got married too. They tried to dodge it for as long as they could, but eventually they were told that if they didn’t conceive naturally, they would impregnate her in a lab.”
“They do that?”
“Yeah,” Daniel says, then sighs, running a hand across his hairline, which is damp with perspiration despite the fact that it is extremely cold in the room. “It’s just a part of the never-ending Process we’re meant to go through.”
“So… there’s no way around this.”
“Nope. There isn’t.”
I close my eyes and take a deep breath.
I should’ve known that I’d have no time to enjoy this point in my life, if I was even enjoying it at all. To be conscripted into the Process, then engaged and wed off in a manner of weeks, seems fantastical, in a way—comparable to a princess being rescued by the brave and humble warrior. However, darkness is always present within these fairy tales, just waiting to lash out and blanket the world with the unfortunate truth. It’s hard to swallow, yet at the same time, not impossible to comprehend.