William Dietz: The Seeds of Man

But according to her father, the overriding concern was to supply the starving populace with cold-tolerant seeds, regardless of the dangers. To hear him tell it, the Sanctuary should transform itself into what amounted to a factory—and distribute seeds far and wide. And to hell with the consequences.

As Lora arrived in Section 4, her thoughts turned to the task at hand. Having removed the soil from the planter boxes, the students were installing a new irrigation system to replace one that was twenty years old. Since Lora liked to work with her hands, she delighted in laying tubing, hooking it up to the misters, and testing each run to make sure that it was working properly.

So she was already engrossed in her work by the time class started. Mr. Teal was there to offer advice when required but was willing to let his students make mistakes as part of the learning process. And he was willing to tolerate some horseplay as well, which typically resulted in one or more people getting wet.

The class was over before Lora knew it. She was down on her knees working on a water manifold when Mr. Teal appeared beside her. “We made good progress today… It’s time to wrap it up.”

“Okay, Mr. T. All I need is another ten minutes. I’ll put the tools away.”

“Good. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Lora heard the crunch of gravel as the instructor walked away—and was busy tightening a hose clamp when she heard the same sound again. Five minutes had passed by then, but she was expecting to see Mr. T as she turned to look. Only it wasn’t Mr. T. Becky’s brother Luke was big, strong, and nineteen years old.

The kick was already on the way and, if Lora hadn’t been in motion by then, would have connected with her head. As it was, Luke’s boot grazed her temple. She fell sideways and tried to roll away. But Luke followed, kicking where he could and connecting with various parts of her anatomy. Her right shoulder, arm, and ribs all took hits.

The pain was intense, and all Lora could do was roll up into a ball and wrap her arms around her head. A blow hit one of her thighs, and Lora figured that Luke was going to beat her to death; then he stopped. She couldn’t see, but the voice was clear enough. “That’s for Becky… Don’t go near her again.”

There was a crunching sound as Luke walked away. Lora hadn’t cried until then, but suddenly tears came. A deep sob rocked her body, but it made her injuries hurt even more, so she stopped. That was when Lora moved—or tried to. But the pain was so intense that she couldn’t get up. So she lay there, staring at the level above, careful not to move. At some point she fell asleep, something that became apparent when she awoke to her father’s voice. “Oh, Lora,” George Larsy said sadly as he knelt next to her. “What have they done to you?“

Lora felt a profound sense of gratitude as her father scooped her up and carried her to the elevators. The hospital was on Level 18, and she heard her father tell someone, “Please let me by,” as they crossed a narrow sky bridge. Then there were lights, doctors, and tests. “Nothing is broken,” she heard someone say. “Give her one of these every four hours and let her rest. She’ll be sore for the next few days.”

“Okay, let’s see if you can stand,” a female voice said. Lora sat up, winced, and swung her feet off the examining table. Her father was there to help her down. The doctor had a kindly face and wore a stethoscope around her neck. “Call me if she feels dizzy or nauseous.”

George promised that he would and assisted his daughter out through a sliding door. It was dark by that time. A Toshiba microreactor supplied almost all the Sanctuary’s power; the habitat’s citizens could have kept the lights on twenty-four hours a day had they desired to.

But most people preferred the traditional diurnal cycle—so the lights began to fade around six o’clock. And now it was at least two hours later than that. As George and Lora crossed a sky bridge, the transparent elevator tubes glowed in front of them. They entered a capsule and rode it down. The car came to a smooth stop, and Lora was grateful for the relative darkness as her father escorted her home. If there was anything worse than getting beaten up, it was being stared at. It felt good to enter their tiny apartment and collapse on the couch.

That was when Lora saw the items laid out on the floor. She looked at her father. He had a shock of gray hair, a long face, and sallow skin. “What is this stuff?”

“Things we’re going to need,” George replied vaguely. “We’ll get into that—but first I want to know what happened today. And don’t leave anything out. The hospital has notified the protectors by now, and they will want to speak with you.”

So Lora told him, starting with Matt, followed by the run-in with Becky and Luke’s sudden appearance. As she told the story, her father’s face began to darken and she could see the anger in his eyes. “The bastard! I would press assault charges if it wasn’t for the fact that we’re leaving.”

Lora sat up. “We’re what?”

“I was going to tell you when you came home from school,” George explained as he took a seat in his favorite chair. “And when you failed to arrive, I went looking. Anyway, there was a council meeting last night, and I was there.”

“They threw you out. Matt told me.”

George winced. “Yes. My friends and I made a last-ditch attempt to convince the council that it should carry out the mission the Canadian government had in mind back when the seed bank was constructed.”

“Right,” Lora said sarcastically. “And how did that go?”

“You know the answer. They said no. That’s why we’re leaving. We’re going to take some seeds and deliver them to the right people. Then we’re going to teach them how to propagate more seeds. And eventually it will make a difference.”

Lora was shocked, dismayed, and frightened. “You’re serious? The leavers are going to leave?”

“Yes,” George said, “that’s the plan.”

“But it’s illegal. The only people who are allowed to go outside are the protectors and maintenance crews.”

“We’re going anyway,” George said steadfastly. “We’ve been working on it for months, making the gear we’ll need, and gathering information. Now we’re ready. We’ll be gone by this time tomorrow night. Can you imagine? Outside! ”

Lora was momentarily mute in the face of her father’s boyish enthusiasm. Then she found her voice. “What about me ? What if I don’t want to leave?”

“I continue to struggle with that,” George admitted. “At sixteen you aren’t a child anymore. But you aren’t an adult either, and I’m selfish—I can’t bear the thought of leaving you behind. Besides,” he said hopefully, “look at what happened today. Do you really want to stay?”

Lora had to admit that the thought of being able to leave Kristy, Becky, and algebra behind had a lot of appeal, as did the prospect of experiencing the outside world. But unlike her father, she was a pragmatist, and that meant she could see some problems looming ahead. Big problems. “What will we eat?” she wanted to know.

“We’ve been stockpiling food for some time,” George replied. “Enough to last for three months. Longer if we can supplement our rations with wild game.”

“And the barbarians?” Lora asked. “What about them?”

“We’ll try to avoid contact with the wrong sort of people,” George said. “But if it comes to that, we’ll be ready to defend ourselves.”

Lora knew next to nothing about weapons and fighting, and her father didn’t either. But she could tell that his mind was made up. “So you’ll force me to go?”

George shook his head. “No, Lora… I won’t make you go. Stay if you must. But I hope you’ll come.”