Demon’s Dream (High Demon #6)(6)
Author: Connie Suttle

"If they aren’t extradited, I will certainly lodge a protest with the founding member of the Reth Alliance," Ry said.

"And this is Rylend Morphis, newly crowned King of Karathia," Kevis wasn’t even looking up from his desk any longer.

"If I admit I signed off on it, will that keep me here?" Jalan asked. "I couldn’t get the vid submitted unless I did. I signed that Nefrigar guy’s name."

"You forged documents, after this one broke into private patient records and handed them to you?" Kevis raked a hand through short, light-brown hair.

"You forged a Larentii’s signature?" Lendill stared at Jalan.

"A Larentii? They don’t exist," Ceerah laughed.

"I altered my appearance only for her when we arrived," Nefrigar appeared, his height crowding the room. He wasn’t altering his appearance now.

"Oh, stars save us," Ceerah stared up at Nefrigar in horror.

"Something may have to save you. Reah saw that program and has disappeared again," Nefrigar said.

Chapter 2

I’d only been to Avendor once before, skipping there more than twenty-five years earlier to learn how to grow gishi fruit. Now I was back and standing in a line of migratory workers who went from one grove to the next, offering their services to pick, pack, cull or ship the fruit. I was searching for a place that might hold peace, even if it did involve hard work. I’d always found picking fruit to be peaceful work; the trees held no judgment or betrayal. They never withheld information or love, either, with wind whispering through the leaves at times, giving silent thanks for the care they received.

"Name?" The grove supervisor was tired and out of sorts, I think, by the time I arrived in front of his makeshift desk.

"Reah Silver," I said.

"Have you worked the groves before?"

"Yes. In every aspect."

"Good. You’ll start picking immediately. Sign here." The comp-vid was shoved across the small table; I used the stylus to sign my name and went to stand with the others who waited for the next bus to come along. I had both bags with me—I hadn’t left anything behind on Refizan. If the doctor couldn’t control his staff any better than he had, then I had no use for him. Nefrigar had difficulty coaxing me back the first time. I wouldn’t go back there again.

The hovertruck pulled to a stop in front of us and we all loaded onto it. "We’ll take you by the temporary housing first, so you can unload your belongings. Then you’ll get your hoversteps and go to the fields." At least they had hoversteps. Hoversteps were round ladders you could operate with hand or foot controls to raise, lower or navigate around the tree to reach all the fruit. They were a great time saver, if you could afford them. Another crew would likely supply empty crates to replace the ones the pickers filled.

"Select a cube inside, leave your things and come back immediately," the driver dropped us off in front of rows of temporary housing. Long, single-story buildings lined up before us, each with a communal shower, restroom and laundry facilities. My coworkers ran toward the first two buildings. Not wishing to fight with the crowd, I walked toward the third and last of the buildings. Three others came with me.

Dumping my bags in a cubicle at the farthest end of the building, I made my way toward the hovertruck again. Only open seating was available on the back of the truck, with hard benches lined up on both sides to carry the workers. Our feet swung freely over the sides as the hovertruck glided through the groves, taking us toward the designated harvest spot. The trees we passed had already been picked.

"Here’s where you start," the driver announced. "And this is supervisor Keedan, who will hand out your assignments."

Supervisor Keedan looked to be nearing two hundred, with nearly white hair, washed-out blue eyes and wrinkles that spelled character. I imagined that his eyes might crinkle nicely if he smiled. He wasn’t smiling now.

"You’re our replacement crew," he announced as we gathered around him. "The last crew was fired, every one of them, because they were stealing from the groves. If you think to do that, bear in mind we will prosecute. The last crew is sitting in jail at the moment, awaiting trial for high theft. Gishi fruit is expensive; I’m sure all of you know that. We don’t tolerate theft or mistreatment of your fellow workers or harmful practical jokes. You will be assigned a hoverstep, and it will be your responsibility to maintain it and charge it every night. If it breaks down or malfunctions, it is your duty to take it to the repair shop located near your temporary barracks. Food will be supplied for your day meal, but you will prepare the evening meal yourselves. Ingredients for those meals will be provided—within reason. Each barracks has a kitchen and you are obligated to work out a rotating cooking schedule. Fights will not be tolerated and the sharing of duties is expected. Bear in mind that we will terminate your employment immediately if you disrupt the peace of the groves. Follow me."

We followed Keedan until we reached a place where hoversteps waited between seemingly endless rows of gishi fruit trees. Crates were also lined up at regular intervals between trees. "Choose your hoverstep," Keedan instructed. "You will be expected to finish your row by sunset. That is five clicks from now. I will be waiting at the end and checking the fruit that comes from your individual rows. If you can’t pick fast enough, you will be released tonight. Go."

We went. Most went scrabbling after the hoversteps closest to us and began clipping fruit from the trees right away. I and the three who’d bunked in the same building went for the outer edge. I took the last row. Hand clips and other supplies were stuffed in pockets around the hoverstep, including a sealed container with plenty of cool water. At least they were prepared. I pulled my crate up, lifted the hand clip and began picking.

Culls were dropped to the ground and the fruit without blemishes went into individual trays inside each crate. The trays were formed to fit gishi fruit and protected the harvested fruit when the next tray was set atop it. I worked as I always did, swiftly and steadily.

With more than twenty turns of experience handpicking gishi fruit on Kifirin, I knew what I was doing. When the trackers learned that I needed more crates than had been left, they stepped up their pace, leaving me as many as necessary to keep up with my picking. I paid no attention to those harvesting around me, humming softly as I settled into the work.

The three who’d gone to the outer edge just as I had, finished shortly after I did. I knew they had experience, whereas some of the others didn’t. Gishi fruit harvests generally paid much better than any other type of fruit crop, and good, experienced pickers were often easy to spot. The fruit was much more rare and expensive than nannas, oranges or peaches in any case, and required a certain type of handling as well. You didn’t squeeze gishi fruit when you clipped the stem. It would bruise if handled too roughly and cut the price of the fruit by more than half.