Free Reaping by K. Makansi Page B

bloodshed, to a time of want and war.”
    I clutch my father’s hand, close my eyes, and imagine watching Philip at the podium, in person. If I had stayed, would I believe him? Would his words strike fear in me?
    “Citizens,” his voice crackles through the speakers. “This is a dark time for my family, and if we do not address this threat, it could prove to be a dark time for the Sector as well. But rest assured, we are hot on the terrorists’ heels. We will track Jeremiah and Ezekiel Sayyid down and hold them accountable for their crimes against the Sector—for their crimes against you, our people. We will find Vale and bring him home. Together, we the citizens of the Okarian Sector will not let these deluded fanatics return us to the dark ages of the past. Together, we will work for a brighter, more secure and prosperous future. As always ‘May we gain strength from the sowing, resilience from the reaping, and hope from the harvest.’ Good night.”
    “Bastard.” A voice breaks the stillness. It’s my dad, who  never  curses. He hates it when Phillip quotes his poem, the poem that earned him his post as the Sector’s poet laureate.
    The sounds dim for a moment, as Philip retreats from the podium and takes Corine’s hand. Wrapped in their long fur coats and warm leather gloves, they hold their hands high, together, a sign of resilience and strength.
    After a long moment of fraught silence in the comm room, the vidscreen dies.
    “Damn it,” Eli says, loudly. “I knew that piece of junk wouldn’t last long.”
    Then I hear Linnea Heilmann’s perky voice through the radio, gilded with newsworthy suspense: “I am Linnea Heilmann, and that was Philip Orleán, Chancellor of the Okarian Sector, announcing the kidnapping of his own son and Sector Board Member, Valerian Orleán, by anti-Sector terrorists living in our midst.” She pauses, one of those calculated breaks to make everyone lean in a little closer. “Over the past few years, Sector intelligence agents have been conducting undercover investigations into the disappearances of several noted Sector citizens. Now we know the truth. This terrorist group—the Resistance, as they call themselves—is kidnapping them. But why? What does a ragtag group of resistance fighters hope to accomplish by holding our citizens hostage for months, sometimes years at a time? What are their demands? Why do they hide in the shadows? Those are just a few of the questions Sector Defense Forces and OAC Security personnel seek to answer. Until we get answers, we urge you to keep your eyes and ears open, your doors locked, and your hearts with those who have disappeared. Now, let’s welcome the young woman whose former boyfriend has betrayed the Sector, Miss Moriana Nair.”
    Miah, his face like the color of flour, takes a step back from the radio, almost falling against the wall.
    “Moriana attended the prestigious Okarian Academy as well as the Sector Research Institute with both Jeremiah Sayyid and Valerian. Hello, Moriana.”
    “Linnea,” comes Moriana’s voice through the radio. I haven’t heard her voice in years. My thoughts fly out to Jahnu, Moriana’s cousin, wherever he is. I spare a moment and a silent hope that he’s all right.
    “She hates Linnea,” Miah says, his voice somewhere between panicked and hyperventilating. “Why is she doing this?”
    “You think she has a choice?” Soren asks sharply.
    Sweat beads on Miah’s brow and Zoe, still sitting at the controls, looks up at him with pity. She stands, scoots her chair toward him, and he plops onto it.
    “Why do you think Jeremiah turned against the Sector? What do you believe drove him to kidnap his best friend?” Linnea begins.
    “There must be a misunderstanding. Miah couldn’t hurt anyone if he  wanted  to. He’s the sweetest person I’ve ever met in my life, and he loves Vale. I just can’t believe it. It’s not possible.” At Moriana’s words, Miah releases a long, relieved breath,