The Harvest

by N. W. Harris

  “Now listen, both of you,” Maurice boomed in a voice that sounded custom made for the pulpit. “We are all brothers and sisters here. The crimes of our parents belong to them, not to us.”

  “Her mom ruined my life,” Tracy snarled, only sounding a little deflated by Maurice’s words. Shane knew she loved and admired her stepdad, and learning he’d been cheating on her mom must’ve cut her to the bone. No wonder she’d been so cold to Laura from the start.

  “She ruined your life?” Laura pressed against Shane’s arm again, trying to break free. “I was pulled out of my school, had to leave all my friends behind, and had to move to Hick Town because your stupid dad couldn’t keep it in his pants.”

  “If it weren’t for these other people,” Maurice boomed, stopping Tracy from responding, “which is what your mom and dad are, just other people—then y’all would have no cause to dislike one another. Don’t let this come between you. As much as it hurts, those folks are gone. We’re the only family that matters now. All we have is each other.”

  Other than the moment of doubt he shared with Shane in the cafeteria just after Lily had met with them the first time, Maurice had continued his pious behavior. He spent what little free time he had in the base chapel. Jones and some of the others even started referring to him as the chaplain, a title he didn’t object to. Shane was sure glad he was there to talk these girls down; he wouldn’t have known where to start.

  The girls glared at each other a moment longer, seeming to try to come up with more insults to cast since Maurice and Shane wouldn’t let them go at it. Maurice’s words seemed to sink into them at the same time. Their shoulders drooped, as if accepting that they didn’t need to be at each other’s throats for what their parents had done was a great burden.

  Once he was certain it was safe to let her go, Shane released Laura and slipped away to his side of the barracks, watching and ready to charge back in if it got heated again. Maurice talked with them in hushed tones. Just after the lights went out, they hugged, Laura in tears.

  “You have fifteen minutes to get to the training hangar,” Jones shouted, rousing Shane from a dead sleep. “Up and out, people!”

  Groaning, he rolled onto the floor and raced to the bathroom, bumping into his barrack mates along the way. He’d grown so accustomed to being woken up abruptly—he hardly had to think about his hurried routine. Within the time allotted by the growling and barking captain, all forty-nine kids made it to the training hangar and were seated in their metals chairs. It was still dark out and Shane had a feeling it was only around midnight, though time had become immaterial to him.

  “This simulation will feel more realistic than the others you have experienced,” Jones began, marching back and forth across the stage with his hands clasped behind his back. “Seven of you are going to experience what it would be like to have the enemy find you out and turn upon you. The rest of you will play the role of the attacking Anunnaki.”

  Chatter passed through the room.

  “And,” Jones said, loud enough to silence them, “we are activating an injury simulation program for this scenario. That means you will feel the shot from the plasma rifle if you are hit. This will help you grow acquainted with how your armor’s first aid system responds to injury. If you are delivered a lethal blow, you will be pulled out of the simulation.”

  Shane looked left and right at his friends, confident they could handle whatever Jones threw at them.

  “Another little twist for this game,” Jones said, sounding a bit mischievous. “We are making a mixed team for the human defenders, so you may have to fight alongside people you’ve never fought with before.”

  Jones paused, gazing across the room.

  “You will be in full armor. We’ll keep the members of the human team’s identity secret from everyone else so there’s no hesitating during the fight. However, the team who will act as the humans will have a moment alone in the simulation before the attack begins, so you’ll have a chance to get acquainted.”

  The buzzing came in Shane’s ears, and then the flash of light. When his senses returned, he was standing in a tunnel in red armor with the Shock Troop symbol on his chest. He and six other teenagers who had their helmets under their arms gathered at a hatch he recognized as one of the entrances to the reactor chamber.

  “I guess we’re the humans,” Anfisa said.

  “And I’m betting we’ll be surprised at how many guns we see pointed at us when we open this hatch,” Ethan observed.

  He was a shorter, dark-skinned kid from the Australian team who Jake said was part aborigine. Originally, Shane had thought that Liam was the leader of the Aussies, but over the last few weeks, he’d seen that Ethan, who was typically quiet and always friendly, actually made most of the decisions.

  Steve and Jules were also on the mash-up team, along with Petrov and Jake. It struck Shane as interesting that Jones had only selected people from the top three teams, those who’d gotten used to dominating the leaderboard. Knowing the whooping that would likely occur when they opened the hatch, he reckoned they were about to share a slice of humble pie.

  Shane hesitated. They had three obvious leaders, and he wasn’t sure if he should try to take charge. Everyone else seemed to be thinking the same thing, glancing from him to Ethan to Anfisa.

  “Once we get in there, I’m guessing Jones has it set up so we won’t even get to the reactor control panel,” Shane said, taking the ball to see what happened. “He wouldn’t make it that easy for us.”

  “He never does,” Anfisa seconded. “He probably expects us to die as soon as we open this hatch.”

  “So what’s our goal?” Steve asked.

  “We still have to get to the control panel and press the button,” Shane said. “That part is obvious.”

  They hadn’t learned the complete sequence of codes to put into the control panel to destroy the reactor, so Jones placed a big, red button on the panel and they had to push it to simulate completing that portion of the mission.

  “So we charge in with guns blazing,” Ethan said coolly. “We hit the control panel and keep going to the other side of the reactor compartment.”

  “They’ll expect us to turn around and fight our way back to this hatch,” Anfisa joined in excitedly, apparently getting his plan before the rest of them did.

  “Exactly,” Ethan replied. “I’m betting they won’t be crowded around the main entry hatch on the opposite side. No one would try escaping that way because it leads through the command center of the ship.”

  “So we hit the control panel and get to the other side without stopping,” Shane said. “Then we seal the hatch and wait for the reactor to blow.”

  “Well,” Jules said, rubbing her chin. “It ain’t perfect, but I don’t think there’s a better plan.”

  Shane glanced around at everyone, making sure no one else had anything to add.

  “Then let’s do this,” he said, “before they have more time to plan their defense.”

  They all nodded and made sounds of agreement. After putting his helmet on, he turned and raised his hand to the red button that would open the hatch. It wouldn’t be there during the real mission either. All the ships hatches had special codes. During the evenings when they had a few minutes to study, he’d been struggling to learn them with limited success.

  He pressed the button, and the door slid aside. As soon as the opening was wide enough, Steve pushed ahead of him, ever the linebacker ready to protect his quarterback.

  Shane leapt through after his friend, rolling forward as he entered the reactor chamber. The discharge of plasma rifles sounded all around him. Shane kept firing his weapon as he came to his feet.

  “Go, go, go!” Ethan shouted.

  The mash-up team charged across the reactor chamber, firing their weapons in every direction as they ran. The task seemed hopeless. The reactor compartment was filled with the other kids, who were also in red armor and stationed around the core. Forty-two opponents didn’t se
em all that bad until they were pointing guns at him. Some even stood on platforms higher in the chamber, raining plasma bolts down from above.

  He realized it would have been better not to start shooting right away, because it appeared the defenders didn’t know which hatch they’d come through. They’d attracted a firestorm of plasma blasts. One burned through Steve’s leg and he fell, screaming, to the ground. A moment later, he grew quiet and started firing his gun again, the armor having administered pain medication to keep him going.

  “Go,” Steve shouted, when Shane slowed to help him. “I’ll cover you.”

  A blast hit the floor near his feet, encouraging him to continue toward the reactor controls at full speed.

  Shane fired his weapon and saw the blast burn holes through a female who was shooting at him just ahead. His heart stopped in his chest when he saw her drop, hoping he hadn’t just shot Kelly. Then again, Jones said if they were killed in this simulation, they’d simply be pulled out of the game. The pain Steve expressed when he got shot sounded much worse than what his victim seemed to experience in sudden death.

  He made it to the control panel with Petrov, Ethan, and Anfisa. Hitting the red button, he glanced back to see if any of their teammates were coming behind them. Steve was still on the floor, hiding behind a tool cart and using the sharp-shooting skills he’d honed from years of hunting to hold off the horde of teenagers trying to close in on him. They were gathering between the mash-up team and the exit. On the floor between Steve and Shane lay the rest of their teammates, all ejected from the game by mortal wounds.

  “It’s going to work,” Ethan said. “They’re trying to get between us and that exit.

  Shane backed up with the survivors, headed toward the hatch on the opposite side. The other teens weren’t guarding it because it led through the busiest parts of the ship. It didn’t make sense for them to go that way. They would never try it if this weren’t just a simulation. Shane saw Steve get hit by a blast that eliminated him just before he slipped around the other side of the core. He knew it was not real, but it stirred painful memories to see his friend get killed.

  They made it to the main hatch just as the defenders regrouped, slipping through it under a barrage of plasma rounds exploding against the bulkhead. The hatch closed, and Anfisa fired a shot into the control panel to disable it. They stood huffing for air, looking at each other and listening. The ship trembled, and a loud roaring sound carried through the thick blast door, the reactor core erupting through the apex of the ship. Silence came a moment later.

  “Congratulations,” Anfisa said cheerfully. “We have won!”

  “I’m not sure I’d call it winning,” Ethan said glumly. “We lost three people.”

  “In war, casualties cannot always be considered a loss.”

  “Not sure I get your meaning,” Shane said, shocked at how cold and academic her response sounded.

  “This doesn’t mean it is good to lose people,” she said, not sounding apologetic, “but every mission comes with certain risk, and sometimes the cost of success is lives.”

  What she was saying made sense, but Shane would rather approach every mission with plans to keep all his teammates alive. He was about to say as much to her, but the buzzing came in his ears. He was returned to his metal chair in the training building, seated next to Kelly.

  Her face was pale, her eyes sad. Shane already knew she was one of the defenders who’d died in the reactor chamber. It was apparent by looking at her expression that the simulation did a good job of making the trainees feel their injuries and experience death in such a way that it seemed as realistic as possible. Looking up and down the last row of seats where the Americans and the Australians sat, he could see everyone but Ethan wore the same shocked expression, blinking and looking down at their bodies as if checking to see if their injuries had been real.

  “That sucked,” Kelly finally blurted out. “I got shot.” She looked at him with wide eyes, and he felt terrible thinking she might have been the girl he took out in the simulation.

  “Yeah, it was bad in there,” he said nervously.

  “Where were you?” Her color began to return.

  “Oh,” Shane stammered. “I was in there.”

  “On which side?” she asked casually. “Alien or human?”

  “Human.”

  Her eyes grew wider, like she suspected he might have been the one who shot her.

  “You can see, that was a worst-case scenario, with enemy waiting in ambush in the reactor chamber,” Jones said, rescuing Shane from answering the next question he expected Kelly to ask him. “In this situation, many sacrifices would have to be made to achieve mission success. The human team did the right thing by exiting through the main hatch of the reactor compartment, though it would have been overrun by Anunnaki on a real ship.”

  Jones paused, his gaze falling on Ethan, and then Shane. “If you don’t go into this mission prepared to give your life and to let your friends die, then it is unlikely that you will succeed.”

  Last night was his team’s fourth turn at cleaning the bathroom, marking the beginning of their fifth hellish week of training. It felt like a year had passed. Sometimes, he wished the damn Anunnaki would come so he could fight them, then they could all get some rest.

  Shane huffed for air, leaning over with his hands on his knees. They’d just lost the flag-capturing game to the Israeli team. He was glad they’d won—it was their first time, and it was great to see them cheering and laughing. Winning had become relatively common for his team, and they didn’t celebrate anymore like they did in the beginning.

  Petrov limped through the briars covered in paintball splatters, way more than was required to take him out of the game. People just liked shooting the dude, and everyone was becoming a better shot each day. Shane had learned the Russian wasn’t all bad, even though Shane still occasionally wanted to kick Petrov’s ass. He was just driven and would do anything to win. Who could blame him for that?

  Like a dog in a muzzle, he still barked all the time, talking smack every chance he got, but he didn’t bite anymore. Shane guessed it was because the big Russian was scared of his team’s iron-fisted boss, Anfisa. Regardless, when they were in the simulations, Petrov was amazing. And out of all the flag-capturing games they’d played, he’d won four times.

  The Israelis took turns waving their little red trophy as they led the way along the backside of the buildings toward the cafeteria and lunch. The rule was that the team who got the flag was first in line at the next meal. This was quite the reward, because Jones pushed them so hard that they were always hungry. The highest team on the leaderboard got to eat next, thus the Americans fell in behind the cheerful winners, who normally found themselves further back in the pack.

  Lily stepped out of the egress between the buildings ahead. One of Jones’ clones was with her, and they wore black suits and worried expressions. She raised her hand in front of the Israeli team, stopping the procession.

  Jones and Dr. Blain went forward and talked to them in hushed voices. Then the scarred alien straightened and looked at the teenagers, his brow furrowing.

  “Listen up, people,” he shouted, climbing onto the side of the hill high enough for everyone to see him and helping Lily afterwards.

  His somber tone capturing their undivided attention, the kids fell silent. Shane worried it was dread stealing the color from Lily’s tan complexion, but was also suspicious that this might be just another twist in their training. They’d been kept awake for seventy-two hours last week, so it couldn’t be much worse than that.

  “There has been a new development,” she said firmly, scanning their faces. “We just intercepted a transmission from an Anunnaki ship. They are going to arrive a lot sooner than we expected. We must cut your training short and transport you to your respective landing sites.”

  “What?” Kelly gasped.

  “We’re not ready,” Liam exclaimed.

  Infectious panic swept through the
group. Although he did his best to hide it, Shane was not immune. His heart thumped in his ears, and the hairs stood on the back of his neck. He knew this day was coming, had even wished for it at times. Now that it was here, he felt wholly unprepared for it.

  “Do not let fear inhibit your ability to carry out your mission,” Lily continued. “You were all capable of defeating the Anunnaki without any training. What we’ve done here will only increase your odds of success.” Her voice had a slight tremor in it, and he wondered if she really believed what she said.

  “Go to the barracks and clean up,” Jones ordered, no measure of sympathy in his voice. “Then muster at the training building where we will do a final mission briefing.”

  Giving each other stupefied glances, no one moved.

  “This is not the time for hesitation. I said go!” Jones shouted. “Do it now!”

  Accustomed to obeying his orders, the kids jogged back to the barracks. Although he was worried about what was to come, a surge of adrenaline reenergized Shane. Little was said as they showered and changed. Everyone wore a wide-eyed look on their faces—a mixture of excitement, nervousness, and fear seemed to permeate the barracks.

  “We need more time,” Kelly whispered to Shane, stepping behind him as he pulled on a clean, black T-shirt.

  “I’m not so certain we do,” he said, turning to face her. He took her shoulders in his hands and looked her in the eyes. “We didn’t have any preparation before taking on that gang in Atlanta and shutting down the weapon. We didn’t really have a clue as to what we were doing, but our instincts carried us through. The time here has taught us more than we need. We will win.”

  Kelly bit the side of her lip and nodded. Shane didn’t know if they had a chance, but he did recognize it was time once again for him to be the quarterback. He’d seen the look of defeat on his friends’ faces before, and he’d wanted to quit then too. But they’d pushed on, and they succeeded. Regardless of what he believed their chances were, he had to convince his team they could win, or it wasn’t even worth trying.