The Sowing (33 page)

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Authors: K. Makansi

BOOK: The Sowing
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She stops moving. Still as a statue, eyes as wide as the sea.
Does she really care about him that much? 
If she does, I’ll feel a lot less guilty about not going along with her romantic whims. “I can tell you where he is, but in return, you have to provide a diversion for me tonight.”

“Eli?” She shakes herself back into action, and I can see her mask slide back into place after that brief moment of astonishment. “And what, precisely, would I do with that information?”

I shrug. I know she’s already gone for it. I don’t have to persuade her.

“What do I care? Use it to track him down, if you’re still in love with him.” Her mouth purses ever so slightly. “Or sell it to an interested buyer. You’re a clever girl. I’m sure you can put valuable information like that to good use. If you cover for me—and don’t even pretend that lying would be difficult for you—”

“What are you doing tonight,” she interrupts, “that’s so desperate you’re willing to sell me highly classified information?”

“I can’t tell you that, Linnea. I just need you to cover for me.” Her eyes narrow. But when she responds, I know I’ve sold her.

“How do I know you’ll follow through on your end of the bargain?” I pause. Good question. I haven’t thought this through yet. Then again, I haven’t thought any of it through. I’m playing this game moment by moment.

“You don’t,” I say. “You’ll just have to trust me. But I’ll give you something else. I don’t want you to give some throwaway diversion—I want you to tell everyone we spent tonight together. That we slept together. That way you get both the big conquest and Eli’s whereabouts, and if I don’t follow through, at least you’ll have the first part.”

I feel her eyes flicker over my face. I’m sure she’s wondering what on earth has driven me to this point. Of course, what she doesn’t know is that neither of the things I’m offering mean anything to me anymore.

“Okay,” she acquiesces, casually tossing her blonde hair over her shoulder. “I’ll do it. But I want you to prepare the message right now. Instruct your C-Link to send me a message at 0600 hours in the morning with all the available information on Eli’s whereabouts.” When I hesitate, she snaps. “Now, Vale!” I can see why she and my mother get along so well.

“Demeter,” I say cautiously, looking around to make sure no one is eavesdropping. “Prepare a message to auto-send to Linnea Heilmann at 0600 hours in the morning. Include in the message all the information about the whereabouts of Elijah Tawfiq—” of course, she doesn’t know that we don’t know
exactly
where Elijah is, but I guess she’ll find out in the morning, “—including last sightings, verified location, and association with the Resistance.” I pause and look Linnea in the eyes, still speaking to Demeter. “Make the courriel untraceable. And make its release conditional upon Linnea’s release of a public statement tonight between eleven and midnight saying that she’s going home with me.”

“Done,” Demeter responds. “You’ve gone insane, haven’t you?” I bite back a laugh. Strange how I will miss an AI program more than almost anyone else I know.

Linnea smiles at me with a trace of real happiness. She’s won her prize. For a moment I almost allow myself to forget the game we’re playing. She is beautiful, especially when she smiles. I find myself wishing that circumstances were different, that I really could spend the night with her, that we could genuinely enjoy each other’s company. But I remind myself that if circumstances were different, I might not be about to run away from everything I’ve ever known. My mother might not be a murderer; Remy might still be here; Tai might still be alive. So many things could be different. So I smile back at Linnea and take the earliest opportunity to duck off the dance floor and find Jeremiah and Moriana, desperate to get away from this tragicomic masquerade.

When I find them, Jeremiah grabs my shoulder and glares at me. “What the hell are you doing?”

“You are so not going to go out with
her
… are you?” Moriana asks.

“I don’t know; maybe I’ve decided I need a diversion.” I look at Jeremiah. “After all, I think this is going to be a long night and declaring my undying love for Linnea might just be the thing I need to get everyone off my back.” Jeremiah stares at me, his brows furrowed, mouth terse, his face creased in suspicion.

“Okay, I get it,” he says finally.

Moriana punches him in the arm. “You can’t seriously think it’s okay for him to be hanging out with her?”

“No, I don’t think that, but I do think it’s time everyone stops telling Vale what to do.”

“Well, she’s bad news, and don’t expect
me
to stop telling you that anytime soon.”

I reach out and give her a hug. “You don’t need to worry about me spending time with Linnea.”

A pang of regret rolls through me. Moriana is my oldest friend. I hate deceiving her, and I hate leaving her behind. Miah and I debated whether or not we should tell Moriana, but ultimately we decided against it. First of all, she’d want to come with us, but Moriana Anderson in the Wilds? She’d hate it after day two. And second, she idolizes my mother. If Moriana continues working in Mom’s lab, there’s a chance she could learn something that would be valuable to us later. But only if she’s not under any suspicion. Only if my mother is convinced that Moriana knows nothing about our disappearance. And that means we can’t tell her. It almost broke Miah’s heart to know that he’d be breaking hers. But it’s the only answer, the only way to keep her safe.

“Now stop worrying about my love life. You two need to go have fun. Get out on the dance floor or find a dark corner. The evening will be over before you know it.”

Moriana looks at me and then at Jeremiah whose face is set in a grim smile. “I’m not an idiot. What is going on with you two?”

He pulls her close and kisses the top of her head. “Nothing’s going on except that I’m with the most beautiful, most intelligent, most amazing, most—”

“Okay, okay,” Moriana laughs. “You’ve already told me that about a dozen times tonight.” She pulls Miah toward the dance floor, and I watch them go and wonder what tomorrow will bring for all of us.

Left to wander the floor until my father gives the celebration address, I schmooze with politicians, ask researchers and professors for details on their work, and even do a few more photo ops with Linnea just to boost my alibi and keep her happy. I determinedly avoid being in my mother’s presence, even in her line of sight. She makes no effort to find me, whether out of shame or fear of another confrontation. A few times I catch my father trying to corner me, but each time I manage to drag Linnea into the spotlight again, in front of the cameras, or to find some bigwig to talk to, making it impossible for him to confront me. But for the most part, he’s too preoccupied to find me. There’s too much else going on tonight.

In some small, superficial way, Linnea and I actually manage to enjoy each other’s company, telling little jokes about General Aulion and Evander Sun-Zi, admiring the decorations, and commenting sarcastically on the absurd fashion pieces the partygoers have chosen for the evening. At one point she catches my eye and gives me a small, narrow smile, and I wonder if maybe I’ve misjudged her. Maybe we have more in common than I thought.

 

 ****

 

About two hours later, I lean tiredly against one of the columns bordering the dance floor. The pianist picks out a slow song, and all I can think of is how his timing and rhythm is off—he’s tripping over the harmony on the left hand, and while it doesn’t sound awful, both Soren and I could play this song asleep.

I see Jeremiah and Moriana dancing together, her head against his shoulder. She barely comes up to his chin, and she looks tiny in his arms, like a fawn in a grizzly’s embrace. His eyes are closed, and I can see his hand playing in her hair, coiling slender tendrils around his fingers. It hits me—for the first time, it truly hits me—that we’re leaving. Maybe forever. And if not, whatever we come back to, it won’t be the same.
We
won’t be the same. I feel weak, hollowed out as if everything I’ve ever thought about myself has crumbled and wafted away like dust. I steady myself against the column behind me, leaning my head back and staring up at the ceiling. Flashes of memories dart through my mind like silver fish, strange and unfamiliar as though viewed through a distorted lens. Everything looks different now that I am leaving it all behind. But I can’t stay. That much is clear. Not after what I’ve done. Not after what I’ve learned.

Suddenly the song is over, and a new song, excited, anticipatory, begins. It’s the announcement that my father is about to begin his speech. The crowd turns towards the podium, set up at the very front of the great hall, and a spotlight trains on him as he ascends the dais, smiling and waving. He stands for a few seconds, grinning for the cameras before he begins. I wonder what it’s costing him to keep his composure now.

“Friends, fellow citizens of Okaria,” he starts at last, “We’ve gathered here tonight to celebrate another important milestone in the history of our Sector. Tonight is the one hundred and sixth Winter Solstice Celebration since the formal incorporation of the Okarian Sector, and tonight marks the beginning of a new year!” There are cheers and applause, loud, raucous noise, and as I look up at my father’s strong, handsome face, I wonder who it really was who raised me to believe in the right thing, to treat people decently and fairly, and to believe in myself. What is in store for him and my mother? Will he feel just as betrayed as I do? Or is he guilty of crimes as terrible as hers?

“We are gathered here tonight for a ritual and a celebration. The solstice marks the beginning of a new growing season, and this year, that has a special significance: Thanks to the dedication of the Farm workers and the OAC scientists, this annum marks seven full years since the Sector has seen a death from starvation!” Huge roars of approval meet with ringing cheers at my father’s triumphant announcement—after all, that’s something that is definitely worthy of celebration.

“After the Religious Wars destroyed the old world, and the Famine Years consumed vast swaths of human civilization, we who have fought with our parents and our grandparents—and now our children—recognize how powerful a victory that is. And fought we have.” Philip’s expression turns grave and his eyes cloudy, as if remembering the battles himself. I fight the urge to roll my eyes. His acting skills clearly haven’t been compromised, despite his anger and confusion from earlier. “We have fought to unify the Sector—to bring the northeastern quadrant together under a combined, cohesive system of government, so that we may work together to protect ourselves from threats from the outside and from starvation on the inside. We have fought every year to plant and grow enough food to feed every single citizen of this nation. We have fought to increase crop production and nutrient production through the dedicated work of our scientists.” A smattering of applause.

I feel a light touch on my shoulder and turn to see Jeremiah.

“Now’s the time. She’s in the bathroom.”

“—as we celebrate the solstice, we must remember the violent, tormented history that shadows our society and do everything in our power to prevent a—”

I close my eyes and shut out my father’s words.

“Vale. Let’s go,” Jeremiah says. His jaw is set, his eyes steady and determined. “If we wait, we’re going to miss our opportunity.”

“You first,” I mutter. “Take off your jacket and go out the service door.” We’d both studied the Kingsland blueprints before packing today, just in case we had to dodge security staff or escape through a side route. “I’ll tell Demeter to bring up the Sarus, and I’ll meet you up there. But first, I’m going to put on a show with Linnea, and I don’t want her to see the two of us together.”

He nods and mutters a gruff
okay
and then disappears through the crowd.

“—never forget the deaths, the disease, the terror and the bloodshed behind us, and fight against those who would return us to those days—”

I catch Philip’s subtle jab at the Resistance.
What would you think if you knew what I’m doing tonight, Father? Would you try me for treason? Starve and imprison me the way you did—the way we did—Remy and Soren?

I catch Linnea and sweep her up for one final romantic kiss before I smile at her and whisper that she had damn well better uphold her end of the bargain. She pretends to look shocked at what I’m saying and then titters nervously. I hope everyone thinks I’ve invited her back to my flat tonight. How many layers of lies will I paint on my face? What would Remy think if she heard I’m sleeping with Linnea? She probably wouldn’t care. I depart just as the crowd begins clapping at whatever charming statement the chancellor has just made. I slip out the service door, and as best as I can tell, everyone is too focused on watching and listening to my father’s speech to pay any attention to me. I hear the door swing shut behind me and my father’s words, the murmur of the crowded hall, and my former life fades behind me like a dissipating dream.

24 - VALE

Winter 2, Sector Annum 106, 00h05
Gregorian Calendar: December 22

 

We find the back staircase up to the airship bay and wind our way up to where Demeter has programmed the Sarus to land. While we wait, Jeremiah taps his feet nervously and glances anxiously around us, his eyes darting this way and that. For my part, I lean up against a metal pillar and wait calmly. Anxiety has left me. Everything I needed to do has been done, and now all that’s left to do is leave.

“Did you talk to your parents, Vale?” Miah asks, making conversation as his eyes flit around.

“I did.”

“What happened?”

“I don’t really know.” I close my eyes and pause before responding more completely. I don’t want to talk about it, but I know Jeremiah deserves a response. I take a deep breath and then finish. “My dad didn’t seem to know what I was talking about. But my mother—Corine—as good as admitted everything.”

He stops looking around frenetically and stares at me. “But that means Philip could be innocent,” he says. “Isn’t that a good thing?”

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