Demon's Dream (High Demon Series #6) (4 page)

"Name?" The grove supervisor was tired and out of sorts, I think, by the time I arrived in front of his makeshift desk.

"Reah Silver," I said.

"Have you worked the groves before?"

"Yes. In every aspect."

"Good. You'll start picking immediately. Sign here." The comp-vid was shoved across the small table; I used the stylus to sign my name and went to stand with the others who waited for the next bus to come along. I had both bags with me—I hadn't left anything behind on Refizan. If the doctor couldn't control his staff any better than he had, then I had no use for him. Nefrigar had difficulty coaxing me back the first time. I wouldn't go back there again.

The hovertruck pulled to a stop in front of us and we all loaded onto it. "We'll take you by the temporary housing first, so you can unload your belongings. Then you'll get your hoversteps and go to the fields." At least they had hoversteps. Hoversteps were round ladders you could operate with hand or foot controls to raise, lower or navigate around the tree to reach all the fruit. They were a great time saver, if you could afford them. Another crew would likely supply empty crates to replace the ones the pickers filled.

"Select a cube inside, leave your things and come back immediately," the driver dropped us off in front of rows of temporary housing. Long, single-story buildings lined up before us, each with a communal shower, restroom and laundry facilities. My coworkers ran toward the first two buildings. Not wishing to fight with the crowd, I walked toward the third and last of the buildings. Three others came with me.

Dumping my bags in a cubicle at the farthest end of the building, I made my way toward the hovertruck again. Only open seating was available on the back of the truck, with hard benches lined up on both sides to carry the workers. Our feet swung freely over the sides as the hovertruck glided through the groves, taking us toward the designated harvest spot. The trees we passed had already been picked.

"Here's where you start," the driver announced. "And this is supervisor Keedan, who will hand out your assignments."

Supervisor Keedan looked to be nearing two hundred, with nearly white hair, washed-out blue eyes and wrinkles that spelled character. I imagined that his eyes might crinkle nicely if he smiled. He wasn't smiling now.

"You're our replacement crew," he announced as we gathered around him. "The last crew was fired, every one of them, because they were stealing from the groves. If you think to do that, bear in mind we will prosecute. The last crew is sitting in jail at the moment, awaiting trial for high theft. Gishi fruit is expensive; I'm sure all of you know that. We don't tolerate theft or mistreatment of your fellow workers or harmful practical jokes. You will be assigned a hoverstep, and it will be your responsibility to maintain it and charge it every night. If it breaks down or malfunctions, it is your duty to take it to the repair shop located near your temporary barracks. Food will be supplied for your day meal, but you will prepare the evening meal yourselves. Ingredients for those meals will be provided—within reason. Each barracks has a kitchen and you are obligated to work out a rotating cooking schedule. Fights will not be tolerated and the sharing of duties is expected. Bear in mind that we will terminate your employment immediately if you disrupt the peace of the groves. Follow me."

We followed Keedan until we reached a place where hoversteps waited between seemingly endless rows of gishi fruit trees. Crates were also lined up at regular intervals between trees. "Choose your hoverstep," Keedan instructed. "You will be expected to finish your row by sunset. That is five clicks from now. I will be waiting at the end and checking the fruit that comes from your individual rows. If you can't pick fast enough, you will be released tonight. Go."

We went. Most went scrabbling after the hoversteps closest to us and began clipping fruit from the trees right away. I and the three who'd bunked in the same building went for the outer edge. I took the last row. Hand clips and other supplies were stuffed in pockets around the hoverstep, including a sealed container with plenty of cool water. At least they were prepared. I pulled my crate up, lifted the hand clip and began picking.

Culls were dropped to the ground and the fruit without blemishes went into individual trays inside each crate. The trays were formed to fit gishi fruit and protected the harvested fruit when the next tray was set atop it. I worked as I always did, swiftly and steadily.

With more than twenty turns of experience handpicking gishi fruit on Kifirin, I knew what I was doing. When the trackers learned that I needed more crates than had been left, they stepped up their pace, leaving me as many as necessary to keep up with my picking. I paid no attention to those harvesting around me, humming softly as I settled into the work.

The three who'd gone to the outer edge just as I had, finished shortly after I did. I knew they had experience, whereas some of the others didn't. Gishi fruit harvests generally paid much better than any other type of fruit crop, and good, experienced pickers were often easy to spot. The fruit was much more rare and expensive than nannas, oranges or peaches in any case, and required a certain type of handling as well. You didn't squeeze gishi fruit when you clipped the stem. It would bruise if handled too roughly and cut the price of the fruit by more than half.

My three bunkmates and I were sent to a nearby tent after we finished, where cold water, fruit juice and sliced melon waited. I ate what I could, knowing that soon the pregnancy would progress to the point where I'd become ill if I didn't keep something in my stomach. I'd go looking soon for health bars or something similar that I could carry on my hoverstep.

"Garthe," the first of my bunkmates held out a hand. His hair was nearly blond from the sun, looked to be in his fifties and in his prime, had pitted scars on both cheeks, brown eyes and a nice smile.

"Reah," I took his hand and squeezed his fingers as was appropriate. "You've done this before."

"I have," he agreed, turning to watch as two more joined us beneath the tent. They went right for the food and drinks, just as we had. "I thought to go north to Adrixx and do repair work, but I discovered I didn't like the city all that much."

"I think the trees sometimes sigh with relief when we remove the weight of the fruit," I said.

"I get that, too," Garthe smiled. "Plus, I get to think my own thoughts while I pick fruit. I don't have a customer standing over me, telling me how to fix what he couldn't fix in the first place."

"I know someone who loves to do repairs, but he hates it if someone tries to interfere with his work," I said, smiling and thinking of Nenzi. "He knows exactly what he's doing, so it's a good thing he works with his brothers. They sort of run interference for him."

"Then it's too bad I didn't have brothers," Garthe laughed.

"Yendah," my female bunkmate moved over next to Garthe and held out her hand. She was much older than Garthe, I could see that, but truly not that old. Perhaps a hundred or so. Still in her prime, she had long brown hair held atop her head with a clip she hid beneath a floppy-brimmed hat. Her brown eyes coolly assessed Garthe. She would learn soon enough he had no interest in women. His eyes had followed our other bunkmate, a man, who had yet to introduce himself.

"Who's going home tonight?" A young man flopped onto the ground near Yendah's feet, a cup of fruit juice in his hand. Sunset was very close and several still hadn't come in. He grinned up at Yendah, who gave a tight smile in return. She didn't like the young ones, I saw that right away. I agreed with her. They tended to be interested in sex and little else.

"I'd say anyone not here in the next ten ticks," my third bunkmate came to join our group. He held a comp-vid in his hand, likely checking the sunset time. Garthe watched him covertly as the newcomer settled beside the young man on the ground at our feet. "Name's Calde," he introduced himself. "Who's cooking tonight? I'm starved." He had black hair, gray eyes, looked to be around forty and was handsome in a rough sort of way. He was staring at the younger male, who offered his hand and said his name was Landor. At least Garthe stood a chance, now. I didn't think Landor was interested at all in Calde.

"I'll cook, if they have something decent to fix," I offered.

"Good. That's settled," Calde grinned.

"Time," Keedan shouted. "Everyone gather round. If you haven't finished your row, someone will take you back to the entrance, you'll collect a chip for today's wages and leave. The rest of you, step forward." All of us rose and made a circle around Keedan.

"Now, I'll identify you first by your hoverstep number," he said. Those had been left at the end of our rows as instructed. "Where is hoverstep three?" Landor held up a hand. "You left good fruit hanging on at least eight trees. Do better tomorrow or you'll be out. Where's number eleven?" A woman held up her hand. "You dumped good fruit on the ground with the culls. You're out as of now. Go to the entrance and collect your pay." The woman turned and left. Keedan went through several others, voicing his concerns about their harvesting skills, bruising of fruit or running their hoverstep into the trunk of a tree. That could damage the tree and leave it open to insect infestation or other diseases. "Do that again," Keedan admonished, "and you'll be fined and asked to leave." The young male hung his head and nodded.

"Now," he said, "who is hoverstep number sixteen?" That one was mine. I raised my hand. "What's your name?" Keedan asked.

"Reah," I said.

"Reah, I couldn't find anything wrong with your work and you finished first, even though you started last. You've done this before."

"Yes," I nodded. "Several years." I wasn't about to tell him how many.

"Good work," Keedan smiled the smile I'd waited all day to see. His eyes did indeed crinkle nicely at the corners. I smiled back at him. "You're dismissed, load your hoversteps on the truck over there and don't forget to charge them tonight. Sleep well; the trucks will be by to pick you up at first light. Be late and you'll be taken to the gate," he grinned.

Hitting the lifter on my hoverstep, I slid it into place on the truck and then climbed onto the seat next to it. We rode back to the barracks that way, many of us leaning our elbows tiredly on our hoversteps as we made the trip.

After getting the hoverstep into my cubicle and hooked up to the power supply, I walked toward the kitchen, where my three bunkmates waited. I'd offered to cook and they were all sitting around the kitchen, waiting. Opening the fridge, I assessed what we'd been left to prepare. We had fowl, so I pulled it out, washed it and went looking for flour, spices and seasonings.

"This may be the best thing I've ever eaten in the fields," Calde said later. I'd served the fowl with a sauce using the meager ingredients I had, plus sautéed vegetables, sliced cheese and fresh fruit for dessert.

"I don't think I've gotten food this good anywhere," Yendah acknowledged.

"I'll cook every night," I offered, "if someone else will do cleanup. Four isn't hard to prepare meals for."

"We'll get sandwiches or something for a noon meal while we're picking," Garthe bit into the cheese. "This goes well with the grapes."

"Yes, it does. I find it surprising that they brought us something that was such good quality."

"People usually melt this cheese over bread or something," Calde pointed out.

"I like it better this way," I said.

"Me, too," he agreed.

Knowing that I had to rise early, I went to bed soon after dinner. At least my cube had a door that I could lock. My days settled into a routine, after that. The harvest was demanding and there were no days off during picking season. Other crews worked the groves, but we seldom saw them. A truck came through each mid-day, handing out a packed meal of some sort. Usually it was sandwiches--those could be finished quickly, allowing us to get back to picking. Keedan showed up at our barracks on the tenth day while I was serving dinner.

"Are you hungry?" I asked, setting food in front of Garthe, who gave me a lovely smile before lifting his fork.

"Of course," Keedan grinned. I'd gotten a comp-vid to order food and supplies, and I'd asked for fish as one of our choices. I was serving it now. Keedan got the extra bit of fish I'd cooked.

"Does she always cook this well?" Keedan asked, stunned after his first bite.

"Every night," Yendah smiled. "We clean up, Reah cooks. Works great for us. I've never eaten this well."

"What about barracks one and two?" Keedan asked, cutting into the fish again.

"I'm not up to cooking for that many," I said. "I'm pregnant and I need as much rest as I can get." If I'd dropped a bomb on the floor, it might have caused less of a stir. Keedan was staring and Yendah was fussing suddenly. Garthe and Calde were staring at one another.

"I've done everything there is to do with gishi fruit while pregnant before," I said. "I'm just not cooking for nearly thirty people after a long day in the groves. Four I can handle. Maybe five or six, but that's it. I won't cook for more than that."

"How far along?" Keedan went back to his food.

"Close to three months. I'll have to see about getting energy bars or something to carry with me soon, so I won't get sick. Besides, the harvest should be done in another six eight-days. I'll find something else after that if you're uncomfortable with an expectant mother working in your groves." I gave Keedan a hard look. I'd picked gishi fruit while eight months pregnant with my middle twins. It certainly hadn't bothered Gardevik Rath that I'd done it. Or Kifirin or any one of my mates.