Last Farmer: Last Farmer Series - Book 1

by Robertson, D. N.

  “Look,” I said in a placating tone, hoping to sound conciliatory, “I’m not entirely sure what I believe.” I paused, trying to sum up my thoughts. I caught Blossom’s smug “I told you so” smile and Jake’s twitch of betrayal before I could finish. “Both of you, chill out!” I snapped, feeling like I was the rope in their game of tug-a-war. “Here’s the thing. Jake is obviously on to something or who ever it is wouldn’t be after him, so whether it’s a farmer or not, we have to get somewhere safe and if,” I shot a glance at Jake, “IF we can find some sort of proof that one of those guys actually exists, we’ll have to warn them that they’re in danger.” Silence reigned from both of the passenger seats, neither satisfied by my decree, but I wasn’t ready to choose sides just yet. My brain flat lined a little as we headed north east, more of less, and the scenery, if you could call it that, thinned out. The going was fairly slow in the sand and the hours ticked by bit by agonizing bit.

  I took a quick glance in the rear view mirror and could see the glint of a drone hovering on the horizon. I hadn’t told the kids but I’d seen signs of trackers since we started driving that morning. Usually they were pretty far off, just a flicker of light in the sky, but this one was close. We were probably well within range and I debated whether to tell the kids or not. They both sat, or I should say lolled, the passing hours numbing their teenaged minds in to a stupor. I think Jake was actual sleeping, but with his bangs falling over his eyes, I couldn’t be sure. After their spat I decided that now definitely wasn’t the time to ramp up the pressure. The buildings were getting further apart and I guessed that we were in that vacant space between the major cities of Toronto and Montreal. I checked the mirror again and caught sight of the glint I was dreading. I guided the car around a crumbled multi-storied building that could have been anything in its past life; whatever had identified it was long gone, but at least I couldn’t see the damn tracker plane. I noticed an opening in the back of the building that was big enough to drive in to, and decided to take cover for a bit, so we could reassess our position and figure out if we needed to adjust our heading. I longed for a compass and a good old fashioned road map, but it was not to be. We’d have to navigate using any remaining landmarks to get us closer to Montreal. I didn’t know what we’d do then. I was starting to doubt that it would be safe to enter the city, especially if it was the government looking for Jake.

  I left my musing and climbed out of the truck, leaving the interior lights on so we could see in the darkness. I listened for rumbling from the building and looked around for any sign that the remnants hadn’t settled completely, but I could only hear the whistle of wind through the voids in the rubble. Blossom and Jake seemed to have come to some sort of understanding as they were smiling at each other and exchanging playful shoulder punches. Maybe they were just happy to be up and out of the car. I propped my glasses on the top of my head and wondered if I had I ever been that young. Maybe - but it seemed like an eternity and I could only assemble wisps of memories from back then. It was time to tell them about the drones and what I thought we might face in the upcoming days. They took the news fairly well, faces grim in the glow of the truck cabin light.

  “Well, what now?” asked Jake after taking a few moments to process the gravity of our situation. It was clear that this wasn’t a prank or game. There was every likelihood that we could die out in the wilderness of the Bee Zee or that the feds could catch up with us, putting an end to whatever it was that we were about. In the quiet, I heard the high pitch whine of a drone fly over and I cautiously approached the entrance of the building. I could just make out its jet stream against the darkening blue of the sky. The kids exchanged a frightened glance before I could tell them that the drone was circling back to Toronto. I don’t know why, but I thought we’d escaped its notice and we were safe for the time being.

  “I don’t think it spotted us.” My voice echoed in the empty chamber and Blossom jumped, not expecting the sound. “It’s heading back to the city. Maybe we lucked out.” Their expressions mirrored my doubt, but we’d been crapping horse shoes to this point, maybe it would hold and we could see this through. I couldn’t really envision an end game. Our only hope was to find someplace that was off the grid, where we could live in peace, but in the dark corners of my heart, I didn’t really believe that a place like that existed.

  “I’ll run the clip again” said Jake, opening up the vehicle door and pulling out the computer equipment. Blossom helped hook things up and angled the solar panel towards the setting sun. For better or worse, we’d make camp here tonight. It felt snug and safe, but I knew that the same walls protecting us also blocked our lines of sight. I watched the kids reviewing the computer file for what seemed like the hundredth time.

  “Hey…what’s that?” asked Blossom as Reg’s clip rolled by again.

  “What?” asked Jake, not sure to which of the multiple images she was referring.

  “The thing right after the Bonhomme guy; it looked like some sort of number chart. Maybe it’s a code. Play it again” she demanded and was obeyed immediately; curiosity obvious on Jake’s face.

  “There, right there, did you see it?” Of course, I hadn’t made it to the screen in time and only saw the last 15 seconds or so and Jake’s expression made it clear that he had no idea what it was.

  “Again” she ordered and I waited patiently for Bonhomme and almost blinked when I saw a naggingly familiar image that brought to mind dust motes and quiet. Blossom looked at me expectantly. I searched through the detritus in my brain, trying to focus on the feeling the image had invoked. ‘000-099: Generalities; that was the first line of the page’ I thought to myself. It reminded me of something, I could feel the memory tickling the back of my brain, but whatever it was stayed lost in the darkness.

  “Play it again and try and save the picture.” I waved my hand at the tablet in an impatient gesture.

  “Save the picture?” There was a very pregnant pause before Jake clarified his question. “You want me to time it to try and save it?” Jake’s voice was disbelieving and heavily laden with sarcasm.

  “Just try, okay?” I tried to sound encouraging, but there was a definite snap in my voice. I wasn’t mad at him, but at myself. I defined myself by my knowledge and when it wouldn’t come out of the dusty recesses of my mind, I felt like a failure. I put a friendly hand on his shoulder to make up for my tone. I watched as the play meter loaded up and the indicator slid across the bottom of the screen. How Reg had managed to program it, so we couldn’t stop or pause the play back was beyond me and beyond Jake, too. Let’s face it; tablets had their limitations and even though Jake tried every trick he knew, he just couldn’t capture the image, so I had to be satisfied with the brief flash that Reg had programmed in.

  “It’s okay, man.” I patted Jake on the shoulder again. “I know what it is.” They looked at me expectantly and I was forced to amend my statement. “Okay, at least it’s familiar. I just need some time to make the connection. Why don’t we have something to eat and get some rest?” The kids exchanged a glance, most likely because of my lack of instant recall. I wanted to defend myself, but thought better of it. I wandered out to edge of the opening and scanned the sky for signs of movement. I could see a constellation hanging over my head, but couldn’t have named it to save my soul. I knew that there had been a time when the stars had guided men across the oceans and through all sorts of environments, but GPS had pretty well eliminated the need for that particular skill; until the grid couldn’t support enough power for everyone to access the satellites. The space program had been trashed years ago, in order to build the biospheres and create water purification systems that would function reliably for the global demand. Necessity truly was the mother of invention and the world that Jake and Blossom were growing up in was a miracle of advances that helped guarantee the perpetuation of the human race, for better or worse.

  When I came back, Blossom offered me a dinner bar that was a bit more satisfying than the morning ge
l packs. I chewed on the granular, semi-sweet protein bar, trying not to think about what was actually in it. As it turned out “100% Natural” was a very loose statement. If it was found in the “natural” world, meaning any combination of chemicals known to science, it was, technically, natural or so said the Canadian Food Inspection Agency. The food industry pushed the boundaries all the time and once genetically modified foods entered in to the economy, they were suddenly “natural”, too. The term “Franken-food” sprang to my mind, but I just chewed through it and pondered the sky. My gut told me we were a bit south of our actual destination, but weren’t too far from the city of Montreal. I thought we might be able to see a glow in the sky, but we were positioned in a valley pocket and I knew the domes cut down on the dispersed light.

  Without much else to do, I stripped off my Sunskin and, in a dark recess, peeled off my damp clothes and changed in to a pair of purloined boxers and we all settled in to our bedrolls and went to sleep.

  Chapter 7 – Seeds of Knowledge

  I jerked awake and based on the darkness, knew it was still the middle of the night. I had been dreaming about tracking drones and book index drawers; both of which pursued me relentlessly in that weird dream space in my head. I was sweating and could feel my heart racing as I tried to grasp the fleeting images that had seemed so real. The drones, I could understand, but index drawers? I had never seen them except for in a museum when I was a kid, but it felt important somehow and I didn’t want to lose the idea of it. I stared up in to the black coffer of the ceiling and tried to make logical connections from the random. The tickle in the back of my throat came from an overwhelming sense of dark enclaves and I blew air through my nose trying to clear out the dusty sensation. I muffled a sneeze, not wanting to wake up the kids. That’s when it came to me; the numeric coding, the dark solitude of study, the index drawer. It was a library. I almost shouted out in my excitement, but the feeling was short lived. What good did that do? What did it have to do with a farmer? Were there any libraries left in Montreal and how were we going to find it, if it did exist? The task seemed impossible to my sleep addled mind. I stretched, trying to calm down my thoughts so that I could get back to sleep. As I was drifting off, another thought hit me. What if it was just a random image, meant to throw someone off the trail? I stayed awake until the sun sent light through the opening of our lair and finally found some comfort in the day light.

  Blossom shook me awake. Her worried expression told me that a good part of the morning had passed and I’d been oblivious to the sounds of their movements.

  “Dax, you okay?” she asked gently, casting a quick glance over her shoulder to Jake.

  “Yeah, what time is it?” Realizing that it was nearly impossible to answer my question I quickly added “Never mind, I didn’t sleep all that well last night.” With my ICD set to travel mode, we weren’t getting any streaming information from the cities, so the time would remain a mystery. I caught a gel pack that Jake threw my way and took a couple of swallows along with some water tablets. “The good news is that I know what the clue means. I just don’t know if it will do us any good or not.” I shoved my glasses on to my face, so I could see both the kids in fairly sharp focus. I didn’t like looking at people when they resembled some sort of animated Rorschach test.

  “So what is it?” asked Jake impatiently.

  “It’s the Dewey Decimal System.” I wasn’t surprised at the completely blank looks on the teens’ faces. “Libraries used it as a means of sorting categories of information. It broke it down by number and standardized their filing systems.” Their expressions morphed into a mild interest.

  “What does that mean? As a symbol, I mean” prodded Blossom. “Are we looking for a library?”

  “I guess so. Reg could have thrown it in to put people off track, I don’t know.” I shrugged and scrubbed my scalp with my fingers rapidly, trying to clear out the cobs webs. It didn’t help.

  “Library?” repeated Jake, his voice sharp with surprise. Obviously his morning jolt of coffee gel hadn’t kicked in yet and his brain was processing information at a crawl.

  “It’s a repository of books…” I started to explain, but he cut me off.

  “Yeah, I know what a library is. It’s just something that was in the email I found. The farmer guy kept talking about a library. But I couldn’t understand why it was so important.”

  We all sat silently, trying to figure out what a library had to do with the whole mess.

  “Do you have the email?” I asked hopefully.

  “No they took it when they grabbed me.” Both Blossom and I kept quiet, mentally encouraging him to tell us about what had happened. “I had it in my vest pocket; you know the army one?” He directed that question to the girl and she nodded. “One of the guys grabbed me by the collar and the other one went to grab my legs, so I kicked out. He caught my runner and I kinda slipped out of it and the vest at the same time and ran.” He couldn’t resist finishing with a one shouldered shrug and he dropped his head to hide behind his bangs. “If they both hadn’t fallen down, I’d never have gotten away.” The relief was clear in his voice and I could see his hand shake a little before he shoved it into the pocket of his jeans. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know that it was important.” I patted his shoulder and suddenly felt a fatherly warmth flood me. I shook it off and crammed my own hands into my pockets. I ignored Blossom’s knowing little smirk.

  “Do you remember anything more about the email?” I prodded, hoping to find something important enough to interest either the government or the triads. Most books that held any “knowledge” had been transferred on to the net and the paper recycled to use for mulch and other cellulose based items. I silently suspected that our morning gel packs consisted of Dickens and Ondaatje with a splash of Pound to add spice. All that was left were old crumbling boxes of microfiche, vinyl records and useless old-school technology.

  “Only that the farmer wanted to move the library to another location. It didn’t make any sense. I guess some of the books or something else was really valuable, because he talked about the vault.” Another shrug and flip of his bangs summed up his frustration. “That’s all I remember.”

  I was about to suggest that we run the file again, when the whistling sound of air through the cracks started increasing to an ear splitting wail. We all rushed to the opening and on the horizon we could see the sun being blotted out by a whirling yellow cloud. I’d never seen one, being protected by the bio-dome, but it had all the markings of a photochemical smog storm. If we couldn’t find a way to block the entrance and keep out most of the wind we could be swept away or worse, suffocate in the chemical miasma. I quickly scanned our den and noticed a fairly large slab of cement about a car length away from the entry.

  “Search the car for oxygen tanks! I’m going to move that rock to cover up the doorway and then we need to stuff any major cracks. Go!” The kids stood frozen for a moment and then flew into action. Blossom pulled out four oxygen tanks from under the back seat and handed out three, putting the fourth safely away, but close at hand. I revved up the truck and tried to manoeuvre it behind the rock. The tires spun in the gravel, but found purchase and the rock slowly inched forward. Jake was using all the loose debris he could find to stuff the larger cracks in our cavern and Blossom rushed to help. The air started to thicken with sand and I could feel my throat burning from the noxious air.

  “Get in the car! Now!” I was amazed that the kids could hear me over the howling, but they came immediately, eyes wide with terror. The large rock slipped slowly in to place and I was satisfied with how well it fit in the opening. “Don’t use the oxygen until you really have to. I think these storms can last for hours and we have to make our tanks last.” They nodded at me and clung to each other in the back seat. The sound of the wind strained my ear and any attempt at talking was futile. My eyes watered painfully as I tried to cough to clear out the burning sensation in my lungs. We couldn’t wait any longer, so I strapped on the oxyge
n mask and took a breath of clean air. At least the air in the car seemed clearer than the yellow tinged smog that hung in the cavern. The engine light blinked, warning me that the battery was running low. “I have to turn off the lights; we can’t risk draining the battery” I yelled over the wind. With a turn of the key, everything went dark as we waited out the storm. Our tanks ran out at almost the same time and while the sound of the wind had lessened slightly, the storm still raged on. I prayed that our final tank would hold out just long enough to get us out of the storm. I turned the oxygen flow down as low as I dared and we coughed and wheezed our way through the remaining tank. It wasn’t until Blossom yawned and dropped her head on to the back of the seat that I knew we were in trouble.

  “Jake! Don’t let her fall asleep, she has to stay awake!” I yelled, grabbing her leg and giving her a good shake. She opened her eyes and blinked at me, I could see her lips had a bit of a blue tinge around the edge and that’s when I got really scared. We could die out here. “Don’t fall asleep!” I shook her again and she nodded. Jake and I surrendered the last of the tank to her, knowing that the chemicals were overwhelming her smaller body faster than our large frames. We sat in the dark, moderating our breathing as best we could; waiting for the worst. And then everything was silent. The storm had passed.

  The heaviness of the air started to lift and we welcomed the quiet whistle of normal wind through the cracks of the damaged building. I turned on the vehicle lights to gauge the status of air. You could see it start to clear and in a few minutes, it was like the storm never happened. Without being told, Jake got out and unclogged some of the openings to let the wind do its work. I started up the car, to move the rock but it seemed jammed in to place. The front of the vehicle had a winch, but I had no way of getting the cord around the rock to pull it back. It felt like less of a problem than it was, but the car battery was running low and we couldn’t stay here forever.