The Harvest (28 page)

She hasn't shouted at me, or anyone, like this in years. At least to my knowledge. I'd thought she'd gotten past them, but this reminds me of those old moments, when I could see the raw and honest Corine, the one who finally took off her mask and revealed the monster below.

Aulion, standing slightly in front of me so I can see his face in profile, smiles.
He recognizes a kindred spirit
, I think bitterly.

I start talking. If Soo-Sun did her job, and Corine's tea is more than just leaves, all I have to do is buy time.

“It's a peaceful march,” I say. “Mostly Farm and factory workers. Some from the city, Resistance members, and even a few Outsiders. All they want to do is be heard. All they want is to be healthy, to be given the right to choose their futures, to be—”

“Don't philosophize, Vale,” Moriana interjects, rolling her eyes. “We've heard it all before.”

Philip, for his part, looks no more certain now than he did last night. If anything, he looks deeply unsettled. His cheeks are pale and his eyes bloodshot and ringed with dark circles. He's not paying much attention to the drama unfolding between me and Corine. His eyes flit to us occasionally, but for the most part he is watching the action on the vidscreens with all the attention of a worried parent at the bedside of a sick child.

“What do the marchers hope to accomplish?” Corine asks.

“Nothing,” I respond, “except to voice their pleas for freedom, for the right to choose their own paths.”

Corine turns to the people watching us, the board members and political advisors, people in the highest positions of power in the Sector. They wear boots of the softest leather, sip from engraved teacups, and dip silver spoons into tiny pots of clear, golden honey, even here in this top-secret room in the bowels of Assembly Hall. I remember the drawing Remy did for the vigil: fruit and vegetable plants sprouting out of human skulls planted in the earth. It occurs to me that to these people, giving the Farm workers freedom is the same as destroying their way of life. If I learned anything from my obsession with history at the Academy, it was that great wealth and political oppression always go hand in hand.

“As you know, the genetic modifications we have been preparing for weeks are ready for implementation. Every individual with an entry in the Personhood database has a tailored profile of epigenetic changes ready to be delivered through the cure to the parasitic pathogen.” Moriana meets my eyes as Corine speaks, addressing the whole room. “Those assembled here are our most trusted advisors and councilors. In light of today's march, should we begin implementation?”

“I'm on it, Vale,” Demeter says into my ear. “I'm going to see if there's anything I can do, any way I can stop it.”

But I know already that the odds are slim to none she can stop the whole machine of the OAC as it shifts smoothly into high gear, prepared to forever alter the lives of the millions of citizens of the Okarian Sector.

Several people glance around at each other before raising their hands, or—in one or two cases—shaking their heads in a confused
no
. One of the women I recognize is the President of the College of the People, Olivia Renteria, one of my father's advisors. Philip swivels slowly, looking at Corine as if he's just now hearing her, just now becoming aware of what's happening in the room around us.

“I count a majority,” Corine says. She nods at Moriana. “Miss Nair, I am dispatching you to OAC headquarters to organize dissemination of the modifications. I want every single citizen of the Sector inoculated against the parasite and injected with their personalized nanobots by this time next week.”

Moriana nods curtly, turns on her heel, and marches out. As she walks away, she pauses at my shoulder.

“You forced our hand, Vale,” she says quietly. “If you hadn't brought five thousand Farm workers down on our heads, Corine might actually have listened to you.” She pauses. “But now it's too late.”

She sweeps by me and is gone.

25 - REMY

Summer 5,
Sector Annum
106, 7h34

Gregorian Calendar: June 25

“We're almost there.”

I pull Bear through the thick crowds of people toward the Sunflower. The marchers are mostly contained on Rue Jubilation, with Watchers and SDF troops keeping the crowds from dispersing. It appears they are under orders to contain the march, but so far there's been no directive for a full-fledged attack. Airships have sprayed tear gas and a few Watchmen have used Bolts set to disperse or stun to keep everyone in the street, but I haven't yet seen any escalation beyond that. Evander's dragons idle above, but so far they've been an empty threat.

Rue Jubilation starts at the Bridge of Remembrance and ends in a large pedestrian roundabout that circles the Sunflower. The wide steps leading up to the great doors of Assembly Hall unfold directly into the “stem” of the monument, a long brick pathway lined on both sides with neat rows of maple trees. You can't see the intricacies of the Sunflower design unless you see it from above. That's why the designers built hills on either side of the monument, with stairs leading to the top where benches and tables are situated. Looking down, you see that it is made of interconnecting pathways lined with trellises, all laid out in the shape of a sunflower's petals. In the middle, a row of bushes encircles a large plaza with a tall fountain. Here, the brickwork is laid out in the Fibonacci pattern seen in the actual flower's center.
A sunflower is a perfect example of clockwise and counter-clockwise spiral patterns found in nature
, I recall from one of my lectures,
and the Sector Sunflower was designed to honor both
Fibonacci's genius as well as the endless beauty and order found in nature's designs
. The designer recreated this marvel of nature with eighty-nine spirals of brick going one way and one hundred forty-four the other way. At the very center, from where the spirals begin, the fountain acts as the source of the irrigation system, continually flowing through an underground network of filters and
refr
eshing itself from rain barrels and water catchment systems. Around the fountain, a series of benches give visitors a chance to enjoy the cool, fragrant shade.

When I see Rose, Reika, and Zeke reach the steps of Assembly Hall, I know it's now or never. Bear and I duck behind several Farm workers and slip into the Sunflower. It's almost a relief, escaping the crowds for a bit of space. The chanting, shouting, and pounding of footsteps still fills the air, but the marchers are hidden from view by the tall walls making up the sunflower petals.

The Sunflower was built just twenty years ago, the young architect astounded that her plans won the premiere design award that year. Once inside, it's a maze of polished wood structures, a mixture of sustainably harvested elm, pine, bamboo, and cedar. Visitors explore the trellised walkways, all of which are adorned with a variety of flowering vines and hanging plants. When it is in full bloom, they are awash in bursts of yellow, but the keepers maintain it so that some flowers are blooming year round. Tulips, daylilies, mustard blossoms, daffodils, and chrysanthemum are just some of the plants I remember. The best time to walk through is right now, in early summer.

I touch my finger to some of the delicate petals, inhaling the scent of the friendship roses planted along this particular trellis. When I was little, the Sunflower monument was my favorite place to walk around besides my granddad's garden. And now we're going to destroy it.

“All good?” Bear asks. We run through the petals to the center, noting with satisfaction that the necessary preparations had been made the night before. Snake, risking arrest by lurking on government property after curfew, wired up a series of small explosives throughout the monument to form an invisible outline of the sunflower shape. In the very center, Snake planted the detonator. Once ignited, the trellises will burn and those in the airships above and on the top floors of Assembly Hall will see the symbol of the Okarian Sector go up in flames.

“Everything's in place,” I say. “You ready?” I ask more for my sake than his. Bear never lived in Okaria, and though he likes gardens as much as the next guy, he has very little sentimental value attached to the Sunflower. I think of all the walks I took with my family here as a kid, holding hands, letting the scents wash over us. Tai refused to move on until Mom told her everything she knew about each plant. Sometimes that took so long, my dad and I would slip away and giggle to ourselves about how silly Tai and Mom were.

I flip my Bolt to the highest setting and point it at the detonator.

“Remy, watch out!” Bear points at an incoming drone, flying high above us, pivoting in our direction. It flashes green, recognizing my face and establishing me as a criminal. I swivel my Bolt up and around, and with no time to flip the switch to disperse, I hope my aim is true. I fire and the drone spirals through the air and drifts sideways.

I redirect my weapon at the detonator and pull the trigger. The Bolt blast connects and a flash of blue floods my vision. I look up. The base of the trellised framework of the Sunflower around the fountain area is alight. Low flames catch on the dry wood of the trellises and climb, lapping almost lovingly at the wood.

“Whoa,” Bear gasps.

The flames climb, growing with intensity, and I realize we've placed ourselves at the center of the growing inferno.

“Let's get out of here,” Bear says, heading west through the maze of petals and toward the stairwell across Rue Jubilation. We can climb the hill and get a good look at what Corine and Philip are seeing from the drone view.

We emerge from the monument to shouts of “Seize them!” An officer takes off running after us, and Bear and I take the stairs two at a time. He's soon ahead of me and I trip, slicing my pant leg open and bashing my shin on the edge of the steps. Already down, I roll over the side of the stair wall and drop into the lightly forested area on the side of the hill. My feet slip on the grass and I grab the tree trunks and low branches, using them for leverage to pull myself up.

I notice a drone heading toward Bear. From the partial cover of the leaves, I set my Bolt to disperse and aim. The drone sizzles and sparks and runs into a branch, then tilts backward and falls. The marchers start up a new chant as the flames grow below us. I shoulder my Bolt and follow Bear up the hill.

“The flames of freedom burn for us!” I notice a swell of sound as the front doors to Assembly Hall open. A figure strides out, two black ops in tow, with all the arrogance of a man without fear. From this distance, I can't make out who it is.

Bear climbs higher and points.

“Who is it?” I ask.

“The Dragon.”

Evander's come out to play.

Evander carries a long tube and has some sort of pack strapped to his back. It's definitely not a Bolt, but the black ops hold high-capacitor, fast-reloading Bolts, a new model I recognize by the size of the weapons. I try to make out what Evander's holding, and it comes to me in a moment of dreadful recognition: a flamethrower used in forest management operations where controlled burns
are necessary.

He walks down the steps, purposeful and slow, but steady. The black ops at his side fire a constant stream of shots into the crowd, carving a swath out of those gathered nearest the stairs.

“Bear, we have to stop them. Evander's got a flamethrower.”

Bear's jaw twitches and his face grows white. He nods wordlessly and turns to head back down the hill toward Assembly Hall. With drones and soldiers still pursuing us, we abandon our plan to watch the Sunflower burn and return to the thick of the crowd.

“Move!” Bear yells, and the Farm workers on the hillside open a pathway for us. Evander walks down the brick pathway making up the Sunflower stem as the crowd shrinks back like oil from water. Though the SDF had the people blockaded from approaching the lawns of Assembly Hall, many were able to push through and run up to the building itself. With the Sunflower on fire, both marchers and soldiers press to the edges of the roundabout, giving the heat of the flames a wide berth.

Evander, I presume, has had enough of his former subjects singing and crying out against him. I hear the hiss of the flamethrower. The crackle of Bolt fire is constant and Bear and I break into a sprint. Screams and more shouting fill my ears. Several Watchmen turn in obvious surprise toward the source of the chaos. The crowd shifts as people run as fast as they can, tripping over each other in their haste to reach safety.

“You want fire? I'll give you fire!” he shouts. His eyes are bright as glass as the flames light up the people around him. “Who organized this? Show yourselves!” He spins around like a madman. We're at the edge of the crowd, which opens like a gaping wound around him. A few burn victims scream as others carry them away. Even Watchers bend to help the marchers move victims to safety.

As people to continue to fall, the chaos grows, and screams fill the air. What was just moments ago a peaceful demonstration has turned into a slaughter. Although Evander's flames are scary, it's the Bolt fire that is truly deadly. We have to stop the black ops.

Someone comes tearing through the crowd in exactly the opposite direction as everyone else. Wearing a Firex hood and a red handkerchief tied around his wrist, I recognize the figure as Eli. Granted some protection by the fireproof clothing, he charges into the opening and leaps onto one of the black ops from behind, jabbing a knife into his throat. The man thrashes in Eli's arms, but the wound is too deep. The other soldier swivels toward them but has no clear shot, his partner's body protecting Eli.

Bear steps into the opening and, with all of his strength, charges at Evander's back with the flagpole he's been using to lead the march held in front of him like a jousting pole. The blunt end hits Evander square in the small of his back, knocking him over. Seeing the danger Eli's put himself in, I sprint through the throng, searching for a clear shot. With black ops, I can't take the risk of stunning him. I flip my Bolt to kill.

The remaining soldier, focused on Eli, never sees me as I find my angle, take aim, and fire. Sparks fly on the pavement as my shot goes wide, and Evander's back on his feet in an instant. Bear and Eli turn, disappearing back into the crowd as Evander regains his grip on the flamethrower. He squares his legs, and flames shoot toward us, searing the air with white heat. The heat is tangible but too distant to be harmful.

“Take him down!” I shout. Evander's head snaps around toward the sound of my voice, but I keep moving, darting through the people at the edge of the circle around him even as he advances and the line of marchers retreat, trying to keep a safe distance. I keep my eyes out for Bear and Eli, but both of them are nowhere to be seen. As Evander looks for the source of the voice, a few protesters begin tracking him, keeping a healthy distance but throwing everything they have at him. The Watchers and SDF look on, some in shock, some clearly horrified, others egged on by his behavior. Out of the crowd, a few brave souls finally charge at him from behind. Just as they're about to reach him, I hear Bear's voice.

“Hey, Evander,” Bear shouts. He's standing at the bottom of the steps of Assembly Hall. “You looking for someone?”

Evander pivots and points the flamethrower at Bear. If he's not careful, Evander will light him up like a firework. I try to stay hidden between and behind bodies in the crowd. If I can catch him unawares, I can blast him from behind. But in the melee, I'm buffeted by too many bodies.

My heart pounds as Evander approaches Bear with determined steps. Bear runs up a few stairs, and Evander follows, like a great stalking monster.

As soon as Bear reaches the top, he turns. He's got everyone's attention. Everyone's watching him. I know he started the morning with a handheld Bolt, but does he still have it? He looks down on Evander, the bravado in his voice ringing out. “Evander Sun-Zi, the people of the Farms are willing to spare your life if you resign from your position and confess your crimes.”

Evander advances slowly, ignoring the thousands of citizens behind him.

“You killed innocent Farm workers at Round Barn,” Bear says. I can see his finger's twitching. Is he armed? He's calmer than I could have imagined. “And I intend to make you pay.”

“Are
you
going to arrest me,
Antoine Baier
?” Evander's identified him.

“You wouldn't dare kill me in front of all these people. Surrender,” Bear demands, “and you will be judged for your crimes by your fellow citizens.”

Oh, Bear.
His idealism crushes me.

Evander drops his flamethrower and it clatters to the ground. Still, no one is bold enough to run and take it from him.

“I surrender,” he says. Around me, a cheer goes up, hundreds of people shouting in triumph. Am I the only one who hears the mocking in his voice?

“The people will show you mercy,” Bear says loudly, addressing the whole crowd, “even though you showed them none. You will be bound by your words and held to justice in a court of law.”

Evander falls to his knees and holds his arms out wide. I tense, every fiber in my body screaming that something is horribly wrong.