Demon’s Dream (High Demon #6)(7)
Author: Connie Suttle

My three bunkmates and I were sent to a nearby tent after we finished, where cold water, fruit juice and sliced melon waited. I ate what I could, knowing that soon the pregnancy would progress to the point where I’d become ill if I didn’t keep something in my stomach. I’d go looking soon for health bars or something similar that I could carry on my hoverstep.

"Garthe," the first of my bunkmates held out a hand. His hair was nearly blond from the sun, looked to be in his fifties and in his prime, had pitted scars on both cheeks, brown eyes and a nice smile.

"Reah," I took his hand and squeezed his fingers as was appropriate. "You’ve done this before."

"I have," he agreed, turning to watch as two more joined us beneath the tent. They went right for the food and drinks, just as we had. "I thought to go north to Adrixx and do repair work, but I discovered I didn’t like the city all that much."

"I think the trees sometimes sigh with relief when we remove the weight of the fruit," I said.

"I get that, too," Garthe smiled. "Plus, I get to think my own thoughts while I pick fruit. I don’t have a customer standing over me, telling me how to fix what he couldn’t fix in the first place."

"I know someone who loves to do repairs, but he hates it if someone tries to interfere with his work," I said, smiling and thinking of Nenzi. "He knows exactly what he’s doing, so it’s a good thing he works with his brothers. They sort of run interference for him."

"Then it’s too bad I didn’t have brothers," Garthe laughed.

"Yendah," my female bunkmate moved over next to Garthe and held out her hand. She was much older than Garthe, I could see that, but truly not that old. Perhaps a hundred or so. Still in her prime, she had long brown hair held atop her head with a clip she hid beneath a floppy-brimmed hat. Her brown eyes coolly assessed Garthe. She would learn soon enough he had no interest in women. His eyes had followed our other bunkmate, a man, who had yet to introduce himself.

"Who’s going home tonight?" A young man flopped onto the ground near Yendah’s feet, a cup of fruit juice in his hand. Sunset was very close and several still hadn’t come in. He grinned up at Yendah, who gave a tight smile in return. She didn’t like the young ones, I saw that right away. I agreed with her. They tended to be interested in sex and little else.

"I’d say anyone not here in the next ten ticks," my third bunkmate came to join our group. He held a comp-vid in his hand, likely checking the sunset time. Garthe watched him covertly as the newcomer settled beside the young man on the ground at our feet. "Name’s Calde," he introduced himself. "Who’s cooking tonight? I’m starved." He had black hair, gray eyes, looked to be around forty and was handsome in a rough sort of way. He was staring at the younger male, who offered his hand and said his name was Landor. At least Garthe stood a chance, now. I didn’t think Landor was interested at all in Calde.

"I’ll cook, if they have something decent to fix," I offered.

"Good. That’s settled," Calde grinned.

"Time," Keedan shouted. "Everyone gather round. If you haven’t finished your row, someone will take you back to the entrance, you’ll collect a chip for today’s wages and leave. The rest of you, step forward." All of us rose and made a circle around Keedan.

"Now, I’ll identify you first by your hoverstep number," he said. Those had been left at the end of our rows as instructed. "Where is hoverstep three?" Landor held up a hand. "You left good fruit hanging on at least eight trees. Do better tomorrow or you’ll be out. Where’s number eleven?" A woman held up her hand. "You dumped good fruit on the ground with the culls. You’re out as of now. Go to the entrance and collect your pay." The woman turned and left. Keedan went through several others, voicing his concerns about their harvesting skills, bruising of fruit or running their hoverstep into the trunk of a tree. That could damage the tree and leave it open to insect infestation or other diseases. "Do that again," Keedan admonished, "and you’ll be fined and asked to leave." The young male hung his head and nodded.

"Now," he said, "who is hoverstep number sixteen?" That one was mine. I raised my hand. "What’s your name?" Keedan asked.

"Reah," I said.

"Reah, I couldn’t find anything wrong with your work and you finished first, even though you started last. You’ve done this before."

"Yes," I nodded. "Several years." I wasn’t about to tell him how many.

"Good work," Keedan smiled the smile I’d waited all day to see. His eyes did indeed crinkle nicely at the corners. I smiled back at him. "You’re dismissed, load your hoversteps on the truck over there and don’t forget to charge them tonight. Sleep well; the trucks will be by to pick you up at first light. Be late and you’ll be taken to the gate," he grinned.

Hitting the lifter on my hoverstep, I slid it into place on the truck and then climbed onto the seat next to it. We rode back to the barracks that way, many of us leaning our elbows tiredly on our hoversteps as we made the trip.

After getting the hoverstep into my cubicle and hooked up to the power supply, I walked toward the kitchen, where my three bunkmates waited. I’d offered to cook and they were all sitting around the kitchen, waiting. Opening the fridge, I assessed what we’d been left to prepare. We had fowl, so I pulled it out, washed it and went looking for flour, spices and seasonings.

"This may be the best thing I’ve ever eaten in the fields," Calde said later. I’d served the fowl with a sauce using the meager ingredients I had, plus sautéed vegetables, sliced cheese and fresh fruit for dessert.

"I don’t think I’ve gotten food this good anywhere," Yendah acknowledged.

"I’ll cook every night," I offered, "if someone else will do cleanup. Four isn’t hard to prepare meals for."

"We’ll get sandwiches or something for a noon meal while we’re picking," Garthe bit into the cheese. "This goes well with the grapes."

"Yes, it does. I find it surprising that they brought us something that was such good quality."

"People usually melt this cheese over bread or something," Calde pointed out.

"I like it better this way," I said.

"Me, too," he agreed.

Knowing that I had to rise early, I went to bed soon after dinner. At least my cube had a door that I could lock. My days settled into a routine, after that. The harvest was demanding and there were no days off during picking season. Other crews worked the groves, but we seldom saw them. A truck came through each mid-day, handing out a packed meal of some sort. Usually it was sandwiches–those could be finished quickly, allowing us to get back to picking. Keedan showed up at our barracks on the tenth day while I was serving dinner.