18 - REMY

Spring 9, Sector Annum 106, 02h03

Gregorian Calendar: March 28

 

 

I half expect Eli or Soren to be pacing out in front of the cave, waiting for our return, but the area is eerily quiet. Just in case, someone is awake inside, though, I pull up short before we go in. I put my hand on Vale’s arm and he stops, turns toward me. We didn’t say a word as we jogged back in the dark, watching our footing, and trying to get as far away from the Farm as quickly as possible before the early birds get up and start the work day. It’s nearly four in the morning, and now, it seems like there’s too much to say. What we’ve done … it’s just beginning to sink in. Sabotaging the formulas in the Dieticians lab was one thing, but this … this is a whole order of magnitude more dangerous.

“Any regrets? Second thoughts?” I whisper.

“We’ll get read the riot act as soon as the others find out, but no. No regrets.”

“This is just the beginning. We’ve started the revolution. I don’t want anyone else to die, Vale, but it has to stop. It….”

“I know,” he says. “And you didn’t start it, Remy. They did. My parents. Aulion. Everyone on the Board, in the Assembly, at the OAC. Everyone who knew and looked the other way … Now we have to finish it.”

“Thanks,” I say, my voice, barely a whisper. “For … for going along with my crazy idea. If it’d been Soren, he would have—”

“You should know,” he says, interrupting, his voice low, sonorous. “I would do—” He stops, clears his throat, and then continues, “I’m glad I was there.”

I turn away, unsure what to say in response, but grateful for that little moment—whatever it was. I can’t stop myself, though, from wondering how he was going to finish that sentence: I would do … what?

Just inside the cave, we find Eli still sitting up, head lolling forward, eyes closed. Some guard.

“Eli!” I whisper. He jerks awake.

“Remy,” he says, rubbing his eyes. “How’d it go? What’d you find? Soren finally fell asleep. Bear was up half the night, too.”

Vale sits and drops his pack, as I settle in next to Eli. I put my pack full of rolled-up solar fibers in front of him and gesture for him to look inside.

“We brought presents.”

He opens the pack and peers in. “What are these?”

“You don’t recognize them?” I ask, teasing.

“Wait….” he pulls one of the rolled up panels out. “What the…?”

“Solar harvesters,” I say. “The fiber panels.”

Eli’s mouth drops open. He unrolls the panel and presses his fingers to it, awed.

“Where the hell did you get this?” He rummages through the bag. “And how many are in here?”

“Vale’s got a pack full, too.”

“What did you two … I’ve got a bad feeling.” Eli knits his brow and studies both of us. “Something tells me I should never allow you two to go off alone again.” He points his finger at me. “Spill it. What the hell did you do?”

“It’s a protein lab,” I say. “Giant vats full of meat being grown in petri, industrial scale. Just like they used to do in the Old world, until all the bacterial outbreaks shut the labs down.”

“Gods,” Eli says, staring at me, then Vale, then back at me. “You’re not joking, are you?”

“Serious as the grave.”

“So … the harvesters are from the lab?”

“We destroyed their power supply. Took all the solar harvesters off the roof. They’ll have a hell of a time repairing that job, and hopefully it’ll take them a while to figure out that the films from the solar panels are gone.”

“It’ll take at least a week to get that many new harvester panels to Round Barn and installed,” Vale adds. “In the meantime, the meat will go bad and what will the Dieticians feed the workers and Farm staff? They won’t have anything—or not enough—and we can smuggle our supplies in.”

“But … there’s still livestock on the farm. They can slaughter them, surely, use them as substitutes in the MealPaks.”

Vale shrugs. “It strikes me that the reason they’re growing the meat instead of slaughtering it, is because they can manipulate it chemically as it’s grown in the lab more effectively than by inoculating live animals. So even if they can use the livestock as a temporary substitute, the meat won’t have the same chemical profiles, and since Remy and Bear substituted sugar water for the individualized MealPak additives, if they inject the meat as the Paks are being prepared, it still won’t matter. Sugary steak. Yum. Could be good, but it certainly won’t be as powerful chemically no matter what they’re feeding or shooting up the livestock with.”

“Plus,” I add, “They’d have to slaughter quite a few of the animals on hand to supply the MealPaks they need to produce for all the workers and the staff in the next week. That would be a major operation in and of itself.”

“So the Resistance airship is supposed to show up late tomorrow,” Eli says, “and just when the supply of MealPaks dries up, we’ll be ready to step in and hand out real food, good food. I’m sure Soren and the Director will think what you did at the protein lab is premature—okay, more like full-blown idiotic—but I get it. You were there, you saw the opportunity, you couldn’t pass it up. I’d have done the same thing. Now the show’s on. No turning back.”

 

 

“Huh,” I say with a laugh, more to myself than to anyone else. Miah, Soren, and Vale, their eyes scanning the horizon, turn to look at me.

“What?” Soren says.

“Nothing….” I shrug.

I squint into the last vestiges of the blazing sunset as they turn their heads skyward again. The four of us have hiked from the cave to a clearing near where the commandeered Normandy ship is parked waiting for the Resistance airship bearing reinforcements and food.

“It’s just funny,” I say.

They all look at me again. “What’s funny?” Miah says, his voice is tight. Ezekiel Sayyid, Miah’s dad, is leading the incoming team, and Vale told me on the hike over that Miah hadn’t had a great relationship with his dad since his parents split. He’d been at the Academy when he got the news, and his dad basically disappeared. He hasn’t seen him since.

“Look at us,” I continue. “We’re all standing here watching the sky even though we know perfectly well we won’t see the airship with the cloaking on. We’ll only know it’s here when it signals us or when we feel the air displacement. And yet, we’re all craning our necks expectantly, peering into the blue as if we can make the ship suddenly appear if we just stare hard enough. It’s giving me a headache, frankly.”

“A rare display of logic from the woman who makes a habit of breaking into laboratories and wreaking havoc in her wake.” Soren shakes his head and looks back up into the blue. Seems like with each day in the field, our relationship slowly devolves back to what it was before, back before the ill-fated raid, before we were captured, before our escape, before the incident on the boat. Before Vale showed up. After all we’ve been through together … I don’t quite know how to feel about it, but I do know it makes me sad.

When Eli decided Miah and I should greet the new team and lead them back to camp—Miah because of his dad and me because I could brief them about what we’ve accomplished so far—Miah immediately asked Soren and Vale to come along. He’s obviously a bit bugged out about seeing his dad after all these years, and I guess he wants his two bests friends with him for moral support. Soren and Vale glanced at each other with something like grudging acceptance and, of course, agreed at once. If sometimes I feel like I’m yet another chasm separating the two of them, Miah is definitely the bridge connecting them.

We resume the wait and after awhile, a chilling wind whips my hair into a swirl of curls. I tuck a few tendrils behind my ears and look up. As the airship descends below the tree line and settles in to land, the pilot deactivates the cloaking, and the vessel comes into view—a rusty, clanky old thing, typical of Resistance equipment, so old the tripods give off a high-pitched squeal as they emerge from the hull. It’s bigger than the “requisitioned” Normandy ship, closer to a transport class, but still nothing like the size of some of the Sector’s airships.

“What a piece of junk,” Miah says. I glance over at him. He’s drumming his fingers against his arm. Nerves.

“Not like he had a choice,” Soren reminds him.

“Do you know when his dad joined the Resistance?” I lean toward Vale, my voice low enough that only he can hear. “I’ve never met him.”

“I’m not sure. But I do know they hadn’t seen each other in years.”

“Pretty impressive. Ezekiel commanding a team already. The Director must like him.”

“Could have at least fixed up those tripods,” Miah huffs, gesturing at the ship. “Never seen landing pads so off-balance.”

Maybe they’re sinking into soft ground. Either way, the whole thing tilts ominously. The loading bay creaks opens, revealing the shadowed interior from which a woman in dark green emerges. She looks to be a few years older than me, probably around Eli’s age, and she’s got a Bolt slung over her shoulder. Good, I think. I’m glad they’re prepared for battle. She strides toward us, a bit of an easy swagger to her walk and a broad smile on face. She’s got close-cropped blond hair and deep-set, intense eyes.

“Hey,” she says, her voice deeper than I expected. “You must be Jeremiah.”

“How’d you know?” Miah says, his eyes narrowing.

“Because you’re the spitting image of your father, that’s how,” she says. “He talks about you all the time, you know. In fact, I’m kinda tired of hearing about how great you are,” she says, a teasing twinkle in her eyes. “I’m Reika, by the way.” She offers a hand to each of us, but stops at Vale and peers closely at him.

Vale shifts his weight, uncomfortable with her close examination. “Nice to meet you. I’m—”

“Valerian Orleán, of course,” She’s almost as tall as he is. “Never thought I’d have the privilege of meeting an Orleán up close and personal. Well, it’s truly an honor.” The sarcasm in her voice escapes no one, especially not Soren, whose smug smile makes me want to take him by the shirt collar and shout, You were the goddamn chancellor’s son, too! Soren is apparently incapable of seeing how similar he and Vale really are, how easily their positions could have been switched, if it weren’t for the scandal, the virus, that knocked Cara out of office. And Vale’s parents’ giving them a little political push out the door.

A few more people disembark, unloading their packs and stretching. And then, finally, that must be Ezekiel Sayyid—he’s got hair almost as black as Vale’s except peppered with flecks of grey, and Miah’s gentle eyes and handsome swarthy face. He’s a little slimmer, but every bit as tall, and he strides over to us with an air of command tempered by kindness. Miah stiffens, and Vale and Soren both inch closer to their friend. Both protective. Another thing they have in common.

“Jeremiah,” Ezekiel says, reaching out to clasp his son’s hand and clapping his other hand on Miah’s shoulder. His jaw clenches and his eyes shine with emotion. He starts to speak and then stops. For a moment, he just stands there looking at his son. “You have no idea how much it means to me to see you here.” His voice is tight and his accent is thick with the long vowels and slightly off-beat emphasis most Farm workers and people from the factory towns have. Firestone’s accent is similar, though much more relaxed. Maybe it’s the age difference, but Ezekiel speaks more formally than Firestone does.

Miah hesitates, then takes his father’s hand. “Been a while.”

But Ezekiel isn’t put off by his son’s reticence. He pulls Miah into a hug, holds him close for a long while and whispers into his son’s ear until Miah’s expression softens, and he returns the embrace. Soren turns away, and the hint of a melancholy smile crosses Vale’s lips. Both have essentially lost their fathers, and I wonder whether either one overheard the exchange. When Ezekiel pulls away, there’s a sort of understanding—not forgiveness or acceptance, necessarily—but full acknowledgement in Miah’s eyes.

“You three need no introductions, but I guess I do. Zeke Sayyid,” he says, extending his hand to Vale, Soren, and me in turn. “True friends,” he nods as if satisfied we’ve passed inspection. “That’s what matters.” He claps his hands and the tender moment is gone.

“What say we get to work?” He turns to Reika, who has been watching the exchange between father and son. “Let’s unload this ugly beast.”

Working in pairs, we carry the supplies to the cave. I join up with a short, wiry man named Dale, while Soren and Miah are paired up, and Vale and Reika are just behind them. As we’re about to head up the last big hill with the last of the crates, I catch sight of Eli running towards us. As he sprints, my heart rate spikes. What the hell? He stops just short of us, panting, hands on his knees.

“We’ve got company,” he says between breaths. “Kenzie’s on lookout. She spotted an OAC airship … a dragon emblazoned on the side … not even five minutes ago.”

Then the strangest thing happens. Soren and Vale meet each other’s eyes, and for perhaps the first time ever, they have the same thought at the same time.

“Evander Sun-Zi,” they say, in unison. “The Dragon.”

“What the hell’s Evander doing here?” I ask. “Does he show up every time there’s a power outage?”

“They must have already discovered that the problem with the power at the protein lab was no regular outage,” Eli says, digging his hand into his side like he’s got a cramp, still breathing heavily.

“Evander’s control over the Farms is absolute. Anything suspicious and—boom!—he’s there within hours,” Soren says.

“If they’ve figured out the solar harvesters are gone, they’re gonna treat it as an act of terrorism. They’d never believe the Farm workers could have anything to do with sabotage that sophisticated. So it’s gotta be the Outsiders or the Resistance. Either way, they’ve sent in the big guns,” Eli says.

Vale’s brow is knotted. “Evander picks administrators he trusts, but if something goes wrong and he thinks it isn’t being handled to his satisfaction, he fixes it. Immediately. My father always said Evander had a one hundred percent success rate. I’ve never had much interaction with him … it’s almost as if my parents kept him at arms length, you know? He was never invited to dinner like everyone else. Hell, even Aulion came to dinner once or twice. But never Evander.”

“Big guns,” Soren cuts in as if just realizing what Eli had said. His frown deep and his glare directed at the sky, the muscles along his jaw line clenching and unclenching. “Aulion and Evander. Fear and violence is how they fix everything.”

“Well, we can’t let him stop us,” I say, summoning all the grit and determination I can. Soren and Vale, again, surprisingly, share a glance that reads she should be afraid of him. I ignore their newfound camaraderie. “So we need to stop standing out here in the open and get everything in the cave.”

Zeke turns to Reika. “You and Dale head back to the ship, re-engage maximum cloaking, and double-check that all safety and self-destruct precautions are in place. Then get back here as soon as you can. Sounds like we’ll be needing to rethink our timeline.”

 

 

“So what do we do now that Evander is here?” Kenzie asks, once we’re all sitting around the fire circle in the furthest recess of the cave.

“We continue getting untainted food in and distributed to as many workers as possible,” I say, my mind running in a million different directions at once. “Security will have been increased, but we’ve established a few well-hidden drop points so we don’t have to get into the Farm itself. If—no, when—they figure out about the sugar water—”

“—Evander will know it was us, not the Outsiders,” Soren interrupts.

“And he’ll be none too happy about it,” Zeke says.

“The question he’ll want answered is how long the workers have been eating untainted food,” Eli adds.

“Evander does not have a light touch,” Zeke says. “Once he suspects sabotage, he won’t play around. Workers going through withdrawal are likely to be cranky, some may be sick, and none of them are going to like his tactics.”

“If the workers protest—” Vale says.

“—it could escalate quickly.” Soren finishes his sentence. He glances over at Bear twisting his cap in his hands, his young face creased in worry.

“Let’s step back,” Jahnu speaks up. “Evander could simply bring in emergency-prepared MealPaks from Okaria and get everyone back on regimen as soon as possible. Or maybe he’ll just dump something in the drinking water, something that will get everyone back in “the zone” before things get out of hand. The last thing they’ll risk is people asking questions, thinking for themselves. His first priority will be to tamp down the incident and then clamp down on security. After he gets the Farm under control, he’ll turn his attention to us. We might have more time than we think.”

“Evander won’t bother looking for us,” Zeke says. “He’ll pacify Round Barn and send Aulion to take care of us.”

“Wait a minute!” I spring to my feet, and everyone falls silent. “I’ve got an idea.”

I run over to my pack, rummage through my gear, and pull out the tiny video camera I’d snagged at the last minute back at Normandy. I thought it might come in handy, but hadn’t yet figured out a way to use it. Now, I have.

Back at the fire circle, I hold it up for everyone to see.

“Is that mine?” Eli asks, an accusatory frown on his face.

“Yeah. You spent so much time tinkering with it, but you never used it. So I borrowed it. Now I know how we can show all of Okaria what’s really happening on the Farms.”

“Go on,” Zeke prods. I notice that, although Miah isn’t saying much, he’s watching his father’s every move.

“We can’t let Evander intimidate us into inaction. If he cracks down on the workers, why not record it? Then we hack into the Sector broadcast feed and play it for everyone to see.” Everyone exchanges glances, but I don’t wait for a response. “Think about it. Footage like that could change everything. It would show people the truth, inspire citizens to action. At the very least it will spark controversy, which is a damn sight better than silence and ignorance.”

“Wait,” Jahnu says. “We don’t want to go in guns blazing and intentionally bring Evander’s wrath down on the workers just to get provocative video footage.”

“Evander’s wrath doesn’t depend on us. If he’s here, his wrath is here,” Bear says, a tremor of terror in his voice.

“This young man is right, Remy,” Zeke says. “You have no idea what Evander’s capable of. I’ve heard tell of floggings, public humiliations—and much worse. There’ve been rumors, but most of them are so outlandish they’re hard to believe. Still, perhaps we should lay low for the next few days. See how things unfold on the Farm. Talk to the Director.”

Zeke’s gravitas and calm demeanor mark him as a leader and clearly those on his team respect him. But like everyone else’s cautious, let’s-take-it-slow attitude, his words of restraint make me a little crazy. Especially if we’re truly on the cusp of something big.

“‘Lay low, work quietly, move slowly!” I can’t keep the frustration out of my voice. “That’s all anyone in the Resistance ever says. But we’re never going to get anywhere if we don’t actually do anything. Every citizen of the Okarian Sector is already at the mercy of men like Evander and Aulion. None of us are safe and we haven’t been for a long time. They’re already hunting us. We all believe Evander is going to take action, punish the workers somehow, so why not record it? I’m not saying we provoke him any further, just that we be there to record whatever he does and then use his own actions to reveal the truth.”

“So we just go in and wait to see what happens?” Kenzie says.

“We go in prepared for the worst, but yeah.”

“And what if the worst happens? What if we’re discovered? More troops are brought in? Do we start shooting? To protect ourselves? To protect the workers?” Soren demands.

“Remy,” Jahnu says, his voice low and soft. “If Evander is as brutal as the rumors say, then we will be outgunned and outnumbered. It could be Thermopylae all over again. Only this time unnarmed workers would be caught in the middle. Is that what we want?”

“Of course that’s not what I want. But do you really believe he’s going to open fire on the workers? He may go after us, but he’s not going to slaughter innocent people en masse.”

“I don’t know,” Vale murmurs. “I don’t think anyone knows what he'll do.”

I look at Miah and then Vale, holding his gaze. “You and Miah are with us now. That you are still here gives me hope. Others will join us, too, but only if they know the truth and only if they have the capacity to understand it. We have an opportunity to make real change here. We can’t let caution hold us back. We have both an audience and an opportunity. To abandon both now would be idiocy. In my opinion,” I add, sitting down, but refusing to look away from the faces of my friends, comrades, my chosen family. The silence is deafening, but I hold my ground.

Finally, Vale speaks.“I’m with Remy. She and Bear have been working to tell the Farm workers the truth. Before them, Brinn and Gabriel did the same. While it may seem like things are moving too fast here at Round Barn, in reality, the Resistance has been at it for years. And you’ve made inroads. Look at Zeke, here. And Firestone. And Bear and his friend Sam.” Vale pauses and takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly while we all wait. “Bottom line is we all believe Evander will do something, and know it won’t be pretty. So let’s get the footage and show everyone in the Sector the truth. We may never get another chance like this one.”

“Okay.” Soren draws in a deep breath, grimacing, as if it causes him physical pain to agree with Vale. “Nothing is safe anymore. We have to take our opportunities as they come, and be prepared for the inevitable fallout.”

Kenzie and Jahnu nod. Eli stares at me, not speaking, but when I look over at him, he smiles, and I know he’s with me. Bear looks uncertain, but resolute, and Zeke rubs his hands together, thoughtful. His team members watch him, waiting.

“The Resistance is based on an ideal of non-violence. To invite violence in such a way, and to then capitalize on the carnage, literally or metaphorically, is … quite a different strategy than what I’m used to. I am reluctant, I hope you understand, not because I disagree with your intentions. Rather, I want to keep as many innocent people free from violence as possible.” He is silent again, then he turns to Miah. “What do you think, son?”

Miah’s eyes go wide. Clearly he wasn’t expecting to be addressed in such a way. “Uh. Well, the way I see it, if you stay silent, no one knows you’re there. No one knows you care.”

I glance at Vale and Soren and wonder if they think Miah’s words are about more—much more—than his opinion about the operation at hand.

“It seems we’re going to be discovered sooner or later, anyway,” he continues. “Maybe we’re being rash. But if we continue to go slow, we’ll have nothing to say for ourselves when they do track us down, and no one will know we even tried to change things. If we make a move, we at least have a fighting chance to let people know we’re here. We’ll at least be able to say we did something.”

Zeke considers his son, and I’m convinced Miah’s words hit home. After a long silence, he looks around the circle, and then his gaze settles on me.

“All right, then. This is the path you choose?”

“It is,” I say.

“So be it. We will help you if this is truly what you think is right. My only requirement is that we let the Director know our plans. Just in case.”