Free Seed by Rob Ziegler

“Sit.” He motioned with a hand and three soft protrusions rose from the floor. He waited for his guests to sit and then settled himself cross-legged into the third seat’s soft fur. “Is there news?”
    Kassapa watched Sumedha, his face impassive. After a long moment he gave the slightest shake of his head. Sumedha closed his eyes. Tightness he had not been aware of lifted from his chest, replaced by a flood of endorphins. He breathed, let the euphoria pass.
    “You are relieved.” Kassapa’s voice was as blank as his face. Sumedha looked from him to Paduma and back.
    “She is my Other. I wish her no harm.”
    “Of course not,” Paduma said. “But you understand the necessity of what we must do.”
    “Yes. I understand why you monitor me.” Sumedha spread his arms wide, hiding nothing. Paduma and Kassapa exchanged a glance.
    “It has never happened before,” Kassapa said.
    “We worry for you,” Paduma clarified. Sumedha slowly inclined his head towards her.
    “And about what I might do.”
    They sat in silence, one regarding the two, the two regarding the one, all working long puzzle strands. The bizarre and foreign logic of betrayal.
    “One defects,” Kassapa said. “The other broods when he should sleep.”
    Sumedha smiled at their suspicion—a new sensation for all of them. Kassapa pursed his lips, then closed his eyes and breathed. They knew not what to make of their bereft brother. Sympathy surged through Sumedha.
    “Pihadassa’s betrayal is as much a puzzle to me as it is to you,” he said. Paduma appraised him for a moment, black eyes unwavering—so very much like Pihadassa’s.
    “Then you do believe her defection is a betrayal.”
    “Yes. But I do not believe she thought it a betrayal, whatever her rationale. She…loves us.” Sumedha swept a hand about him, indicating that by “us” he meant all of Satori. His body trembled with sudden emotion. Kassapa’s face softened.
    “A difficult puzzle for you.”
    “For us all, I think.”
    “I see why you do not sleep.”
    Sumedha closed his eyes, breathed slowly until he found his calm. His attention moved over every cell of his body, fully in the moment.
    “We will send advocates,” Kassapa said.
    “I know.”
    Kassapa continued to stare for a moment, challenging, then closed his eyes. Sumedha and Paduma followed suit. They meditated together. Their minds touched, all three immersed in Sumedha’s grief. After a time Sumedha reached out to them, touching their knees briefly. Their faces lit with surprise.
    “The helix dances for me tonight,” he said. Paduma’s nostrils flared. Pheromones rose from her.
    “You have found a solution for the Fathers?”
    “Perhaps.” Sumedha fixed in his mind the new configuration the helix had shown in his dream. “Part of one. I will not know for sure until I test it. But yes, it may be a step.”
    “You are the architect.” Reverence filled Paduma’s voice. Her hand levitated, seemingly of its own accord, and came to rest on Kassapa’s shoulder. Sumedha nodded his gratitude. He looked to Kassapa. Doubt creased his brother’s brow. He probed.
    “Does this solution come from the infected migrants you have been collecting?”
    “No. It comes from one I made.”
    “Then perhaps you will eliminate the infected migrants.” Kassapa breathed slowly. Sumedha watched his brother’s eyes dim, a mind perpetually bent on the ever-shifting puzzle of Satori’s security. “So many of them,” Kassapa said. “Each with families. Others who might come to retrieve them. It is a risk.”
    “Not yet, brother. But soon.”
    “We will let you work,” Paduma said abruptly. “Forgive our intrusion.”
    Intrusion . Kassapa and Paduma were his brother and sister, strands of the same braid. Intrusion was as foreign a concept to them as deceit and suspicion. Paduma stood and offered a hand to her Other. Kassapa took it and rose. Their seats sank back into the floor. Sumedha stood and followed them to the