The Sowing

This time, Straton’s look is stern. “Once the original settlement started to grow, they resented Sanctum’s intrusion into their lives. They felt they had taken all the risks, and why should we reap the rewards? They cut off all ties with Sanctum and became their own entity—the Establishment, as you said. Their leader was consumed by that same greed and lust for power that led to humanity’s downfall to begin with. Everything we’d been through and survived—nothing was learned from it. Any documentation of Sanctum was destroyed, along with all communication links. As the younger generations were born, our existence was omitted from their histories. The experiment was a failure.”

My anger is stoked. “Experiment? You make it sound like we were all a bunch of laboratory rats.”

Straton purses his lips. “In essence, your forebearers were just that. Besides seeing if it was possible for human beings to return to the surface after the apocalypse, the mission was also a way of ascertaining whether we could effectively rebuild our race, or whether we’d be doomed to failure yet again. Unfortunately, the latter proved to be true.”

He looks away from me. “We’ve been sending scouts out for years now.” He places a hand on the shoulder of the Flesher beside him, who doesn’t react at all. “Everything we’ve seen confirms that our former brethren have become a race of deplorable barbarians, feeding off the lives of those they subjugate for power. Any notions of welcoming them back into the fold would seem to be doomed to failure.”

In spite of the harshness of his words, I can’t say I disagree with anything he’s said about the Establishment. If anything, he’s being too kind.

Straton locks eyes with me. “While the odds of success are low, we owe it to the Begetter to try to rejoin with our misguided brethren one last time. That is why we invited Prime Minister Talon to our city on a mission of peace. Following our talks here in Sanctum, a retinue from our city shall accompany the Prime Minister back to the Parish to continue negotiations.”

“It must have taken an awful lot of persuasion to get Talon to leave the safety of the Parish and venture here,” I say.

Cassius smiles. “It’s amazing what the prospect of advanced tech and increased food resources can accomplish.”

“Of course. Power and greed. The language of politicians.” My eyes meet Cassius’s. “And you, the poster-boy Prefect for the Establishment, are okay with this?”

“I told you once before that I have plans to beat them at their own game. Nothing’s changed.”

I cross my arms. “Hmmm. Neither has my opinion of you, especially considering how you’re responsible for so much pain—not only to Cole and me, but to the people we care about.” I look into Digory’s eyes and he kisses me on the forehead. When I look back at Cassius, he seems pained. “From where I’m sitting, you judging the Establishment makes you the biggest hypocrite on the entire planet.”

“I did what I had to do to get to this point. I was on my way to Sanctum with Talon to begin peace negotiations when we crashed and you found us. But you’ll understand everything soon enough.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He leans toward me and Digory squeezes his bulk between us, shoving Cassius back into his seat. Their eyes are deadlocked—Digory’s filled with that savage fury, Cassius’s widen with fear.

“Relax, Tycho,” Cassius grunts. “I’m not going to hurt your precious little Lucky.”

Part of me wouldn’t mind one bit watching Digory throttle Cassius. Hell, I’ve been resisting doing much worse ever since we first ran into him. But now’s not the time for that.

I touch Digory’s arm, feeling the hot blood pounding underneath the rock-hard muscle. “Digory, let it go. I’m okay.”

Slowly, he settles back down into his chair. But his eyes target Cassius’s face like ice-blue daggers.

The glider transport starts to slow down as it approaches a series of silver towers surrounding a circular courtyard. Cassius takes a deep breath, rubs his chest where Digory’s palm hit, and shakes his head at us as if he’s disappointed. “I would have thought you two, of all people, would be thrilled by the prospect of the Establishment’s downfall.”

My eyes grow wide.

“Just what do you mean?” I ask. “You don’t expect Talon and the Establishment to just throw down their weapons and make nice, do you?”

He shakes his head. “Get a good night’s sleep. Tomorrow is going to be an eventful day.”

Before I can respond, we’ve stopped at the entrance to a housing facility and are escorted by silent Fleshers to our quarters.

With all the distance between Sanctum and the surface, I can’t help feeling more trapped than ever.

THIRTY-TWO

I can’t sleep. Even curled up against the warm contours of Digory’s bare chest and listening to the rhythmic lull of his heart, all I can think about is what tomorrow may bring.

What did Cassius mean?