The Sowing (9 page)

“Some big thing you found? Steal it from the seed bank on the last raid, did you? Can’t break the code, huh?” Rhinehouse says gruffly, glaring at Eli, who keeps his cool.

“You’ll find out at the end of the game, my friend. If you accept my bargain. If you don’t, I’m keeping my secrets. I’ll solve the damn thing myself.”

“Sounds like you’re having a hard time with that as it is.” Rhinehouse suddenly diverts his attention to me and Soren. “And I suppose you two are in on this, as well.”

Soren grins. “I haven’t a clue what Eli’s talking about.”

I nod fervently in agreement.

“Fine, then. So you’re all in on it together. Three of you haven’t been able to figure it out; you want my help, so you must think it’s a big deal.” He pauses. “You’re on.”

All our attention becomes focused on the game. Rhinehouse attacks Eli’s position over and over again, but Eli holds his own. He’s down a rook and a pawn, but he’s chipping away at Rhinehouse’s defenses, too. They trade queens, and then Eli moves his remaining knight up two rows. Suddenly Soren leans forward and
ooohs
over whatever Eli just did. Rhinehouse swears under his breath and moves his king.

Eli stares at the board for a few seconds. He pushes a pawn up and then hesitates, pulls it back. Instead he moves his rook halfway across the board. Rhinehouse moves his rook, harrumphing, but it’s too late. His king is hemmed in by an ill-placed pawn and Eli’s well-spun attack. Eli moves his bishop up one space.

“Checkmate.”

Soren and I each let out a deep sigh of relief. Rhinehouse looks at Eli with an expression I’ve never seen in his face before: admiration. In place of his usual furrowed brows, narrowed eye, and downturned mouth, he is contemplating the board with a hint of a smile. The creases in his face seem to melt away as he reaches out and knocks his king over.

“Well played, Elijah.”

Eli’s lopsided grin spreads across his face as he reaches out to shake Rhinehouse’s hand.

After they shake, Rhinehouse reverts back to his old, grumbling self. He grabs his cane off the table and stands up. “Okay, listen up. I’ll keep my word, on the condition that I help your little project on my own time and at my leisure. I want to know exactly what you guys are working on as soon as this meal’s over. Finish your dinner and meet me back here at the pantry at 2030 hours. We’ll talk then.” And with that, he stalks off into his alternate universe.

I stand up and cross my arms, glaring at Eli in mock anger.

“Who gave you permission to do that, huh?”

“It’s my project, little bird,” he says with a smirk, using my dad’s pet name for me. “I can invite whoever I want to join, and we need him.”

“That was a hell of a game,” Soren says. “You could have cut out his defenses earlier, though, if you’d—”

“Hey, slow down, Soren. I know you’re a chess whiz, but let me just revel in my first ever victory against Rhinehouse, okay?”

Both Soren and I stare at him.
“You’ve never beat him before?”
I demand. 

“What are you talking about? You just saw me beat him right here.”

“I mean before that, asshole.” I punch him in the shoulder.

“That was a hell of a risk you took, Eli. I thought you’d won at least a couple of games against him.”

“Nope. But I know his weaknesses. Once I dropped the bait about the DNA data storage, I knew he’d be distracted trying to figure out why I was asking or how I’d gotten my hands on any encrypted DNA, or he’d just go off trying to remember everything he possibly could on the subject. I was betting on him being distracted and not fully thinking through his moves. If it had been anything else, he could have just ignored me. But a science question, a big secret, and a bet—that would be too much for him to resist.”

Soren shakes his head. “Chess is a game of the mind. Way to take advantage of that, Eli.”

“Thanks. Now, I’m starving. How’s that venison?”

8 - VALE

Fall 67, Sector Annum 105, 17h00
Gregorian Calendar: November 26

At 17h00 hours, my day is finally over. I stand up, stretch, and then collapse back into my desk chair. Demeter laughs at me, but at this point, I don’t care. Ten hours of work, and I’m tired enough to just crawl under my desk and sleep there. But I promised my parents I’d join them at home for dinner tonight, and then Moriana and I are going out for drinks afterwards. At least I don’t have to wake up early tomorrow. It’s the one day a week when I can show up anytime, do my workout routine, and go back to my flat to sleep. And the best part about it is that Aulion won’t be there to criticize my every step.

“Okay, Demeter, time to get out of here. Deactivate all internal systems and engage all security—but wait until I’m out the door this time, okay?” Demeter has somehow picked up a rather playful personality. So playful, in fact, that two days ago, when I told her to “engage all security systems,” she locked me inside and turned off all the lights. I tried to figure out what had happened, and I could almost hear her laughing at me. “You should be careful with how you give your commands, Vale,” she said.

She’s got spunk, that’s for sure. Somehow, from my dialogue patterns, she’s picked up the habit of making sarcastic comments on other people’s behavior into my ear, and her snide commentary is both entertaining and a little scary—it’s like she’s voicing my thoughts before I can say them.

I follow the winding hallway down toward the main elevator. It’s already dark outside, so the building is dimly lit and quiet. Most everyone else has already headed home. As soon as I step into the elevator bay, a green light flickers on above me, indicating that the motion sensors have called a lift to my floor.

While I wait for the elevator, I gaze out at the lights of the city around me, marveling at the things we’ve built in the last century. My parents—and their parents before them—have dedicated their lives to serving the Okarian Sector, and I’m proud and honored to follow in their footsteps.

Our architecture and design may not match the opulence of some of the more majestic cities from the old world, but Okaria is beautiful, and Assembly Hall, the central administrative building of the government and where my office is located, is one of its most beautiful buildings.

I turn my back to the city and admire the building itself. Structured like a tree, the main elevator shafts in the center function as the “trunk,” pumping like pistons in an old-fashioned steam engine as they deliver government workers up and down the twenty-one floors. The bottom floor is the central hall, where the food coming in from the Farms is programmed and 3D printed by the Dieticians for every Sector citizen. Underground, there is an enormous open space where the Corporate Assembly meets. Above, the hallways on each floor branch off and taper like capillaries into individual offices and meeting spaces. Aside from the private spaces, everything is made of glass, so as you walk, you can look out across the whole building and watch everyone amble from place to place above and below. The chancellor’s office, where my father spends most of his time, is at the very top of the tree, on the twenty-first floor. The entire building is encased in a warped glass and steel frame that provides the structural support for both the interior and exterior gardens that are part of the complex system used to generate electricity, filter water, and compost waste. It’s an engineering wonder, designed to withstand just about anything nature can throw at it. If it weren’t for Aulion, I’d love coming to work here each morning.

 “Where would you like to go?” the automated voice asks, as I step into the lift.

“Rooftop aircraft bay.” My office is on the sixteenth floor, so it’s a fairly short ride. I watch the floors and hallways drop by as I float up like a bubble until we crest the roof of the building and the door slides open. Up here, I feel as though I am walking on water. I stride across the glass to where my brand new airship—my father’s graduation present—is waiting. Shaped like a water bird, this model is a new design called the Sarus, after a now-extinct species of crane. The ship is elegant, aerodynamic, highly efficient, and she comes with the latest cloaking technology. The top of the wings are paneled in lightweight solar cells, and her ionic propulsion system is powered by a miniature cold fusion generator tucked under her belly. She’s a sight to behold. When Jeremiah first saw this beauty, he almost lost it.

“Your dad just gave this to you? For graduation?” His mouth hung open as he circled the craft, running his hands along the side, admiring the wings and the nose from every possible angle. “I’ve seen pictures of them, but I had no idea they were even in production. He must have pulled some serious strings to get this ready for you.”

I grinned at him. “Want to take the controls?”

He nodded enthusiastically, still in shock. We flew the ship a few kilometers outside of city limits—it’s illegal to pilot your own craft inside the city; it’s too dangerous. Human drivers are too accident-prone, and midair collisions are usually deadly. So we flew to a little lake outside the city, and I let Jeremiah take the controls. He’s just starting his new job as an aviation engineer, working on airship design for the Sector Defense Forces and OAC Security, and he’s been obsessed with airships for as long as I’ve known him. He flew for over an hour, laughing and roaring like a five-year-old boy.

I press my palm against the reflective metal of the airship, engaging the passenger sequence.

“Please state your name.”

“Valerian Augustus Orleán.” The pod door slides open. Once inside, I scan my palms and my eyes and start the craft. “Demeter, take me to my parents’ house, will you?” I don’t feel like manually entering the destination, and she can easily take care of it.

As the landing tripods retract and we lift off, we move out into the night sky. I lean back to watch the city pass beneath me. I’ve seen photos of some of the enormous “skyscrapers” in the old cities, and I’m thankful we don’t have any of those strange, boxy structures decorating Okaria. The buildings below me are sleek and graceful, with gardens and greenery piled on rooftops. Above me, a heady view of the stars is beginning to emerge, brilliant lines of plumage painted across the sky. There aren’t many other airships out tonight, but there are a few. As much as we strive for equality among Sector citizens, airships are the possessions of the élite. The rest of Okaria gets around using the Pan-Okarian Deployment System, or PODS. PODS is an enormous, intricately connected rail system, which services the entire city and has hundreds of stations. I love taking the PODS system, but I usually attract way too much attention to use it on a regular basis. Being asked over and over again to take photos with citizens is fun but overwhelming. Now that I have my Sarus, I’ve been using it almost exclusively.

The chancellor’s residence is an old, renovated chateau on the edge of the city center, set apart from the hustle of the Sector government. There’s a small craft bay behind the house, and the Sarus pilots herself down and shuts off automatically. When I open the hatch and step out, there are two Sector security guards waiting for me.

“Good evening, sir,” one of them greets me.

“Hey, Ren,” I say. “You can still call me Vale, you know.” Now that I’ve graduated, people have started addressing me more formally than before.

“Sure, Vale,” he smiles back. “The chancellor and the director are waiting. I’ll lead you there.”

It’s not like I don’t know how to get into my own house. But I let him and his partner lead the way without comment.

The mansion is an enormous old building, a relic of the old world luxury that most people these days can no longer even dream of. Grey stone walls, turrets, and gargoyles decorate the exterior. One of the guards palms the scanner to the side of the enormous metal doors, which swing open, and a manservant, who I don’t recognize, gestures me inside.

“Have a great night,” I say to the guards. They nod and give me the traditional cross-chest salute—right fist to the left shoulder. I return the gesture. The manservant then leads me through the back hallway. As we pass the foyer, I glance in at my old piano and a pang of regret hits me. I haven’t had time to sit down and play since before graduation. The hours I’ve spent practicing pieces from the great composers of the old world will doubtless already be fading.
It’s a necessary sacrifice,
I tell myself,
if you want to stop the Resistance
. Still, I can’t shake the feeling of longing, the desire to sit down at the keys and create, to channel the music like a riverbed channels water. The manservant leads me into the living room, where my parents are sitting at a high-top table, sipping on some cocktails. The manservant announces me.

“Chancellor; Madam. Your son has arrived.”

I sigh. I wish we could give up the formalities. After all, this used to be my house, too. But as soon as I am announced and the manservant retreats, the formalities vanish.

“Hey, Vale,” my dad calls. Both my parents are now in their late forties. My father’s once-dark hair is now predominantly grey, and faint wrinkles are beginning to emerge at the corners of his eyes and his mouth. “Let’s get you a drink. Laika, tell Fallon to make Vale a cocktail,” he says, addressing his own C-Link. He’s not shy about using his C-Link in front of us, but in public or in front of other government officials, he never addresses her out loud. To me, he says, “Tired? How’s the general treating you?”

My mother smiles at me, and I bend down to kiss her before plopping down on the couch. “He must be keeping you busy,” she says. Though my father might be showing his age a bit, my mother doesn’t look a day over thirty. Her long brown hair is as sleek as ever, and her round, dark eyes are set deeply into a cream-colored complexion. She is confident, calm, and controlled at all times.

“That’s an understatement.” I grimace, thinking about all the time I’ve spent with Aulion over the last few weeks.

“It’s not too much to handle, is it?” my father asks, looking directly at me.

“It’s fine. It’s no more work than I had at the SRI or at the Academy. It’s just different.”