The Seeds Trilogy Complete Collection: The Sowing, The Reaping, The Harvest (including The Prelude)

by K. Makansi

  No. Corine has her ways of dealing with problems and I have mine. I won’t go that route. I need another option.

  I strongly suggest, sir, that these traitors not be given the opportunity to infect others with their ideology. Especially not after Remy Alexander’s video.

  A pause. I hold my breath. I can’t betray any emotion, can’t act like I’m hearing anything. Just a few moments ago, my father and Aulion disappeared—alone—into a room in the Windy Pines town council building, leaving me waiting outside the door, my guards never far.

  You must realize how few options there are.

  “Your father is upset. Aulion is doing nothing to placate him. If anything, he seems to be provoking him. Aggressive body language, slight sneer, hostile tone.”

  Treason is like a virus and we must inoculate ourselves against it. We must dispose of this problem before—

  Dispose? Like Evander disposed of the problem at Round Barn? Look where that got us. We won’t be using those tactics again. Do I make myself clear?

  Is Aulion suggesting murdering the protesters? It seems too far-fetched even for him, but I can’t imagine another possibility.

  “General Aulion has said nothing. He’s standing motionless in the center of the room.”

  I know what you’re suggesting, Falke, but I won’t do it. I refuse to take that step.

  There’s a long silence. Demeter says nothing. I can only imagine the tension in the room between my father and the general.

  I await your orders, sir.

  “Your father seems appeased. He’s finally turned back to face the general and his shoulders are more relaxed now.”

  Take as many prisoners as you can round up, requisition as many airships as you need, and get them all back to the capital. Lock them up where no one can find them. Keep looking for the others. We’ll deal with them all later.

  Yes, sir.

  The door opens and Aulion strides out. He barely looks at me, but instead speaks to the guards. “Come with me.”

  “But—” one of them protests.

  “Now!”

  “I’ve pulled up the video system schematic and will continue watching Aulion as he leaves the building,” Demeter says. “Once he’s outside, I may be able to get an audio feed if there are security drones monitoring the perimeter of the building.”

  After what seems an interminable amount of time, my father appears in the doorway. “Vale?”

  I stand to greet him.

  “Aulion is taking care of the protestors, and I need you to wait here while I meet with the council members. Then we’ll return to the airfield and take the chancellor’s airship back to the capital. We’ll have some time alone. Just you and me.”

  “Vale!” The urgency in Demeter’s voice startles me.

  “By myself? Are you sure?”

  My father looks me in the eye for a long moment. “I trust you.” And then he’s gone.

  I trust you? What have I done to merit my father’s trust?

  “Deme? What’s up?”

  “It’s Aulion. He’s contravening your father’s orders.”

  “He’s what?”

  “Listen. I was able to record it. As soon as he got outside, on the stage. There are drones programmed to record the speeches and I managed to tap into one.”

  Aulion’s voice fills my ears. His tone is hushed, but clear. “Set up a perimeter and take only your most trusted troops. Keep it simple and clean. Bolts set to kill. Get a hazardous waste demarcation kit to keep the building off limits. I’m going to issue a lock down order for the whole town. After dark, we’ll dispose of the bodies in the woods west of town. There’s an old quarry out there. No one will ever find them.”

  “Lead me to him.” I say, already moving. I open the door and check the hallway. My father’s nowhere to be seen. I don’t have a weapon. I don’t have a plan. All I know is I have to stop a monster from committing mass murder.

  “Take a left here and at the end of the hall, go down the stairs. That takes you back to the lobby and you’ll see the main doors out to the stage.” I obey, running down the corridor. Luckily the town hall is practically abandoned. My father and the council members are meeting somewhere, but right now there’s not another soul in sight. Everyone must have dispersed after Aulion’s troops headed into the crowd. “Just caught him on another camera. Once you’re outside, take the steps to the right of the stage and go around the building. Aulion is heading for a hovercar parked out back, the black ops in tow. What are you planning, Vale?”

  I have no idea.

  I fly down the stairs and burst through the doors, taking the steps out front beside the stage two at a time. I round the corner and see Aulion in the distance. Screeching to a halt, I press myself up against the building. There are two SDF soldiers waiting at the hovercar. I can’t take them all down, and I can’t risk them getting in that car. Before I can decide what to do, Aulion stops. He points and everyone turns to look into the distance. After a few moments, the SDF troops take off behind the building where I can’t see them anymore. Aulion talks to the OAC soldiers and a moment later they get in the car and pull out, leaving Aulion behind.

  I pause, unsure of what to do. Do I try to follow the black ops who are probably headed toward the prisoners? Or the man who gave the kill order, and who could reverse it?

  It has to be Aulion. He’ll only be alone for a moment. I don’t have long. He remains in the parking lot, standing stock still, head cocked slightly as if listening to something I can’t hear. A C-Link? I wonder if he finally managed to convince the Board of Directors he needed one.

  After a moment, I realize he’s heading back my direction, toward the town council building. What’s he up to?

  As he walks, he puts his hand on the butt of his holstered Bolt. Unarmed, even with the element of surprise, I realize forcing Aulion to recall the order will take more than training and luck. I need a weapon. Still hidden by shadow, I slide back around the corner of the building, bound up the steps, and push through the door into the lobby. It’s still empty, quiet as a morgue except for my footsteps. I sprint toward the information desk and hurl myself over it. And there it is. A small hand-held fire extinguisher. I pop it out of its holding clip and check the pressure gauge. Perfect. Trigger-loaded like a grenade, I pull the pin and wait. Aulion will have to walk right past me.

  The door opens, and footsteps echo in the empty room. Closer. Closer. Closer. I wait until he is just past the desk, then launch myself at his back, the trigger of the extinguisher clasped tight in my hand.

  Damn, he’s fast. He’s already pivoted when I make contact, Bolt clear of its holster. I knock him flat, but he uses his shoulder to break the fall and brings the Bolt around toward me. I don’t give him a chance to aim. I twist around and press the fire extinguisher’s trigger, blasting him in the face, white foam piling up like a chemical ice cream sundae. He bucks me off his back with an unearthly roar, clawing at his eyes with both hands as his Bolt skitters across the tile floor. With my free hand I stretch out to grab the weapon, clutching the fire extinguisher in my other hand, not daring to let go.

  Aulion wipes the foam from his face with a sleeve and struggles to get to his feet. I don’t wait. I leap at him, pressing my knee into his chest and the bulk of the fire extinguisher into his throat. I hold the Bolt in my right hand, pointed at his head.

  I push the fire extinguisher hard enough into his throat that his breath comes in ragged gasps. Evander’s words ring in my head: Aulion always said you were a coward.

  “Rescind the order,” I say, jamming the Bolt into his temple.

  He laughs. A bizarre sound barking out from his white-flecked, scarred face. “No.” His voice is rough as he squints up at me with weeping, bloodshot eyes, rimmed in red.

  “Call them off!” I push my knee harder into his chest, constricting his breathing, making it clear I would have no trouble killing him.

  “How did you know?”

  “Maybe your troops aren
’t as loyal as they seem.” Might as well take the opportunity to sow some divisiveness and suspicion. “Give the order now!”

  He wipes his face again, then spits at me. “They’re as good as dead already.”

  “There’s still time. Give the order or I’ll shoot.” Aulion doesn’t respond. “You’ve got a C-Link,” I say, hoping like hell I’m right.

  “Do your worst, Valerian.”

  I press the fire extinguisher into his throat hard enough that his eyes start to pop out and he gasps for air. His lips turn blue and he kicks frantically against my legs. Then I see his eyes roll back into his head and I know he’s unconscious. I immediately let up on the pressure, but keep the fire extinguisher in position.

  For an instant, everything is quiet. Then Aulion draws in a heavy, rasping breath. I can see the fine webbed lines of burn scars on the right side of his face and neck. With cellular reconstruction, most scars can be healed, but Aulion was too old when he was burned. I still don’t know how it happened. Soren hinted one time that he had some ideas, but he never shared them.

  “I had every intention of leaving you for Soren to finish off—he’s claimed that task for himself—but if you don’t give the order right now, I’ll have to disappoint him.” Aulion starts to say something, but I shove the Bolt into his skull so hard it’ll bruise.

  “Give the order,” I say, more quietly this time. “And I’ll let you live to fight another day.”

  “I’m not afraid to die,” he says, his voice low and raspy. I can feel his breath on my cheek.

  “You’re telling me you’d rather die by my hand than spare the lives of Sector citizens who did nothing other than raise their fists in protest?” He doesn’t say a word.

  Everything is silent. I start to count.

  “One.” I press the fire extinguisher into his throat again. “Two.” I press harder. “Three. By the time I get to ten, you’ll be dead. Four. Five.” His breath is once again coming in rasps. I add pressure with every beat. “Six.”

  “C-Link, call them off,” he coughs. “I’m rescinding the kill order.” I exhale. I release the pressure on his windpipe.

  “Again. Just to make sure.” Jeesh, I think, is he so lacking in imagination that he hasn’t even named his C-Link?

  “I repeat, do not fire on the prisoners.”

  Inwardly, I relax. His C-Link will relay the orders to the soldiers’ comlinks. An invisible weight seems to dissipate and float away. But I don’t move.

  “I’ll give you a gift, General. Just for you. I’ll keep your little secret, that you contravened a direct order from the chancellor and decided all on your own to commit mass murder. Of course someone else may turn you in, but I won’t. Not just yet.”

  His squints up at me. “Tell me how you knew.”

  I ignore him. “I’ll keep your secret on one condition: you give the order to let the prisoners walk. Exile. Send them into the Wilds. Let them figure out how to survive, but don’t transport them back to the capital. Think that’s fair?”

  “Fair?” Aulion smirks.

  “All’s fair in love and war, General. This is a good deal for you.”

  His voice is almost a growl as he relays the order to his C-Link.

  “I can try to get a message to Eli to pick up the prisoners,” Demeter says in my ear.

  I try not to smile, but can’t help it. “General, instruct your soldiers to transport the prisoners to the border exit at the Windy Pines perimeter on the southern edge of town. They are to enter the Wilds at the guard station there and keep walking due south.”

  I feel his muscles tense and can practically see his mind working, trying to figure out what I’m up to, how to throw me off, how to get rid of me once and for all. “I’m waiting.”

  Through a sick smile, with tears trickling from the corners of his fire-red eyes, he repeats the instructions. I don’t have much time before he makes a move. I can see it in his eyes.

  “Goodbye for now, General.” I flip the switch on the Bolt to its lowest charge, pull the trigger, and his head falls back like a lead weight. It’s enough to incapacitate him, but not enough to kill. I stand and look around. All this time, not a soul has shown up in the lobby. Where’s my father? “Deme,” I say, “Is my father safe? Can you find him in the building?”

  “I’ve been monitoring him. The meeting with the council members is not going well. But they’re all safe. It’s been less than fifteen minutes since I overheard Aulion’s order.”

  “Can you find me transportation to the south gate?”

  “There’s a hovercar at the back of the building. Probably one of the council member’s.”

  I stick the Bolt in my waistband, then run toward the back of the building, hoping I can commandeer the hovercar and get to the border gate before the guards start asking too many questions.

  “Vale, you’ve got three hours to get the prisoners out of Windy Pines. Get to the north shore of Lake Okaria at Coburg. Eli can’t risk getting any closer. Local SDF forces are transporting everyone to the border in an airship now.”

  “How long will it take to get there?”

  “Twenty minutes if you’re lucky, and if you can get the hovercar started, and if you drive like Miah.”

  “I want to arrive alive, remember. Miah’s a madman.”

  “I know.”

  I can hear the smile in her voice. Some AI. What would I do without her?

  As I approach the south gate, I take a good long look at the SDF transport airship sitting there all fat and happy. Luck is definitely on my side today.

  “Listen up, Deme,” I say. “The transport is still here. If I can talk my way into getting the prisoners on it, we won’t have to risk Eli getting close to Sector airspace. If I can make this work, you and Eli can figure out new coordinates for our rendezvous. I don’t want to put him in danger if I don’t have to.”

  “I can’t risk opening the communication line unless you’re successful,” she says. “I’ll stand by to contact him.”

  There’s so much commotion at the south gate that the guards don’t even notice me. The prisoners are arguing, protesting their exile with the border sentries and the SDF. If only they knew that exile is a gift. One soldier stands guard at the door of the airship, but he doesn’t appear to be paying much attention. He’s got his nose in his plasma. I can take him out if I need to.

  “Please, we have no supplies, no food, no blankets …” a tall woman with a kind, unassuming face pleads.

  “I’m sorry, but my orders are clear.” The lieutenant, who appears to be the officer in charge, raises her voice. It drips with frustration. They’ve obviously been at this for a while. “It doesn’t matter to me what you did or didn’t do. You’ve been exiled by the orders of General Falke Aulion and I can’t do anything about it.”

  Another prisoner steps forward. “You know Aulion has no right. Exile is illegal. How can you expect us to simply head out into the Wild with no accommodations for the elderly in our group?”

  “You should have thought of that before you joined the Resistance,” the lieutenant says.

  “We told you, we haven’t joined any—”

  “Sympathizing with the enemy is the same thing. Now MOVE!“

  I get out of the hovercar—which, to my great surprise, started with a swipe of my thumbprint, as if I had never left the Sector—square my shoulders, and walk toward the crowd. One hand on my Bolt, the other in the air.

  “I suspected there would be trouble,” I say with more than a hint of disgust in my voice.

  “Valerian Orleán?” My name ripples through the crowd. Heads turn with mixed expressions of awe and suspicion.

  “Captain Valerian Orleán.” That promotion won’t last long. “I’m here on direct orders of the chancellor and General Aulion to make sure these people are immediately removed from the Sector.”

  The lieutenant looks me up and down skeptically.

  “I’ve been with the chancellor’s delegation. I was on the stage.
I watched the protest, and despite your traitorous demonstration, you’re getting off easy. More drastic orders could have been given, but the chancellor has chosen to show mercy. Instead of imprisonment—or worse—he has sentenced you to exile.”

  “But exile is—”

  “Save your breath,” I spit. “There is no mercy for Resistance sympathizers. I should know, and you should count yourselves lucky.” I turn back to the lieutenant, ignoring the protesters.

  “I have orders to use this transport and take these citizens as far away from Sector territory as possible. I will return the transport to the airfield where I am to meet my father after the conclusion of the council meeting. Any questions?”

  “But …” one of the soldiers with his Bolt still pointed at the workers speaks up. “First General Aulion said—” He stops short. “And then …” he trails off, confused. It’s clear he doesn’t want to repeat Aulion’s previous orders.

  “General Aulion was mistaken. Surely everyone here—soldier and citizen alike—understands that Philip Orleán would never order the mass execu—” I stop short as if I’ve said too much, and let the threat hang in the air.

  Faces blanch and muffled sobs escape from several prisoners.

  “Yes, sir. Of course, sir.” The soldier says. He glances at the officer in charge whose brow is still wrinkled with doubt.

  I take a step toward her. “You want to check with the chancellor personally, to verify my orders?” I bluff, gripping the butt of my Bolt. I nod toward the sentry post. “Shall I give you my father’s private number? Have you call and interrupt the council meeting?”

  “That is not necessary,” she says, finally. “Do what you have to do. Just know that I will be recording all this in the logbook.”

  “I would expect nothing less—” I look at her nametag—“Lieutenant Tremblay. Now, let’s load these traitors up and get them out of the Sector.”

  “Yes, sir.” She steps aside, unwilling to question my authority.

  “Round them up,” I say loudly to the nearby soldiers. “Get them in the transport.”

  I guard the door as the prisoners, sixty-eight of them by my count, stumble, confused and scared, into the transport. There’s nothing I can do for Lyle or those the SDF are still trying to find, but I can get these people to safety. Once they’re all inside, I salute the lieutenant, palm the door closed, and turn to the prisoners. “We’re gonna have to move fast, so everyone find a seat and hold on.” I hurry to the cockpit, but there’s already someone sitting in the pilot’s seat: a rugged, gray-haired man with a square jaw and a deep cleft in his chin. He looks up as I enter.