Free Reaping by K. Makansi Page A

Okaria! Farmers, workers, scientists, all.” It’s Philip Orleán, Vale’s father. His voice sounds like warm honey through the speakers. It quavers with both confidence and fear. It’s the kind of voice that could lead you off the edge of a cliff and make you glad you jumped.
    I wonder if Vale is somewhere listening.
    “I speak to you today not only as the chancellor of the Okarian Sector, but as a father. Today, I am saddened to be the bearer of grim news, both for my family and for the Sector at large. Valerian Augustus Orleán, the Director of the Seed Bank Protection Project, valedictorian graduate of the Academy, our state’s most prestigious institution of learning, better known to many of you as Vale—my own son—” his voice shakes with unabated emotion “—has been taken hostage.”
    Just then, the tiny plasma screen—not even three dimensional, it’s so old-fashioned—flares up, and Philip’s face, lined with worry and sadness, appears in front of us.
    The first thing I feel is rage.
    Philip Orleán, the man who promised me a bowl of fresh figs if I betrayed my friends, my family, and everything I believe in. Who electrocuted me when I refused. Who pleaded innocent to the charge of my sister’s death.
    Philip Orleán, the liar.
    At his side, a little behind him, sits Corine, his wife, the woman who gave the orders that claimed my sister’s life. And my mother’s. The woman who ordered Chan-Yu to kill me and Soren.  The Orleáns’ death toll continues to grow,  I think, closing my eyes for a moment.  How many more will die at their hands?
    “Vale has been missing for just over four weeks. Terrorists have penetrated our deepest levels of security to take one of our most valuable citizens hostage, to hold us as a society hostage as we desperately negotiate for his safe return. These rebels, these guerilla fanatics, seek to dismantle the institutions we’ve built and to plunge us back into a time of starvation and chaos. We will never allow it.
    “In the last few weeks, we’ve done everything possible to find answers, to discover Vale’s whereabouts, to find out how and why he was taken. It is with the deepest sadness and regret that I inform you that we have all been betrayed—that my son has been betrayed—by someone we once considered one of our own, a friend—both of the Sector and of our family. Jeremiah Sayyid, an engineer from the fourth quadrant of Okaria.”
    Miah gasps. His face is ashen, and he looks like he might throw up. The room buzzes for a moment, before we all go silent again, straining to hear more.
    “His father, Ezekiel Sayyid, is a known member of the increasingly well-organized terrorist network actively working to destroy the Sector. Jeremiah and Valerian both disappeared on the same day. Our intelligence now shows conclusively, though we don’t want to believe it, that Jeremiah is complicit in and central to the hostage-capture of our beloved son.” Here Philip’s voice cracks. He stares up at the elegant, arching interior of the Sector’s gorgeous Capital building, and blinks for a moment. Elsewhere in the room, someone conjures up a wad of saliva and spits it on the floor, summing up my feelings. I remember doing the same thing across the desk from Philip, not so long ago, before he slapped a few capacitors on me and turned up the charge.
    “Jeremiah Sayyid was a friend of ours. He was welcomed into our home on too many occasions to count. He dined with us, celebrated with us, and seemed by all accounts to be a talented young man with great promise. How wrong we were only proves how deeply this terrorist group can corrupt.....
    The sound goes dead and Zoe smacks the side of the audio unit with her hand.
    “...lurk in the shadows of our society, growing in strength and number as vulnerable citizens are attracted to their empty promises. They don’t offer freedom or safety or protection, but a fast track to destruction and disease, a return to famine, to