Excerpt:
The alarm shrieked.
“Love? Wake up. You have to go to work.”
“Mm?”
He stretched, rolled his face into the pillow, still half-lost in sleep.
“No you don’t. Up. It’s Monday already.”
He moved sluggishly, dragging his feet to the edge of the bed like a man wading through water.
“Monday? Tell the week to take a few days off.”
He rubbed his eyes, trying to scrape some clarity from the darkness.
“Don’t be silly… you’re late.”
He rose faster then, shoulders stiff.
“Dad, come down! I’m going to eat your pancakes!”
Feet thundered toward the kitchen, leaping the stairs two at a time.
“Only if… wait, darling, I’m coming. Jake, leave Daddy’s breakfast alone.”
She leaned over the banister, reaching toward the plates.
Five minutes later.
“Why do I only have two pancakes and Jake has four? Did you steal from Dad?”
He counted carefully, leaning forward.
“Of course not. Right, Shelly?”
Shelly shrugged, arms folded tight across her chest.
“Obviously, Dad. Just ask Mom…”
He turned, searching for backup.
“Mom?”
Silence. Eva’s gaze stayed fixed on her coffee; she barely blinked.
…
“I hear that guilty silence! At least pour me some coffee? I don’t think I can survive the drowsiness today.”
He lifted the cup, took a quick sip, and grimaced.
“Isn’t today harvest day?”
She nodded, lips pressed thin, body folded over the table.
“It is, but I don’t think I’ll be bringing my share home tonight. Too much work.”
He rolled his shoulders forward, stretching his arms as though something inside them ached.
“Really, Dad?”
Shelly took one step back, eyes wide.
“Yes, Shelly. I’m sorry… but listen, when I get home, no matter how late, I’ll read you the story of the first harvest.”
He flashed her a quick gesture with his hand.
“Ben, the children need you here more.”
Eva sighed, arms crossed, staring at the door.
“I know, but they grow so fast. I’ll be there when they need me most.”
He crouched to adjust Jake’s scarf, fingers brushing the boy’s shoulder.
…
“You know that’s not what I mean!”
She stepped toward him, palms open.
“I do… but I’ll be swamped. You know how hard this job is, especially when we haven’t tasted meat in far too long.”
He leaned against the table for a moment, rubbing the back of his neck.
“That’s true. Work hard, Dad. I’ll look after Mom and Shelly. Don’t worry.”
Shelly gave Jake a playful shove and smiled.
“Jake, you really are a good boy. Come here.”
He crouched, arms wide. Jake ran and leapt; Shelly followed, dodging.
Ben caught Jake with a grin, tickled him mercilessly; Shelly rushed to the rescue but was soon conquered by her father’s fingers. Laughter, chaos, chairs clattering softly against the floor.
A little later.
Ben kissed his wife goodbye. She watched him through the window, motionless, fingertips resting on the cold glass.
“Kids! Pack your bags. We have to be on time for school.”
Jake and Shelly dashed to the door, footsteps drumming across the wooden floor.
“Yes, Mom… coming! Hurry, Shelly.”
“Listen, I always say it, but stay inside your quadrants. It’s dangerous out there, okay?”
The children turned their heads for an instant, then shot off.
“Okay, Mommy!”
In the hurried rush, Eva and the children headed to the primary school where she taught.
Ben arrived at work, pushing the door open with his shoulder against the weight of his coat.
“Hey, Tom!”
He paused by the gate, hands light on the steering wheel.
“You’re late, Ben.”
Tom folded his arms, peering through the window.
“I’ve got a wonderful wife, Tom. How about you?”
Ben gave a crooked grin, eyes sweeping the crowded parking lot.
“Nothing… Let’s hope this year’s great harvest is a good one.”
Tom’s face darkened; he eyed Ben warily.
“We all hope that… Open the barrier. I’ll be late.”
Ben leaned forward, fingers brushing cold metal, watching the proton car glide slowly past.
“Sure thing, Ben. Good harvesting.”
Tom raised the barrier with deliberate slowness.
“You too, man…”
The gate screeched shut behind him; the metallic echo lingered, tangled with the wind hissing through nearby trees.
After parking, Ben climbed to the fifth floor. He passed swiftly through his quadrant, set his briefcase beside his desk, glanced around, walked with a practiced smile, greeting juniors and old colleagues alike—though sometimes a faint flicker of unease crossed his eyes, almost invisible.
At the corner he reached his favorite spot: the floor’s kitchenette. Carefully he took his favorite mug and poured strong black tea. The scent was familiar, almost comforting, yet the words “great harvest” tightened his shoulders.
“Is that your favorite, team leader?” asked the rookie he was training, curiosity bright and unguarded.
“Not my favorite, but sometimes better than coffee,” Ben answered, smiling as he stirred in a sparing teaspoon of sugar.
“Today’s the great harvest… I’m nervous, boss.”
The day’s air carried a strange tension most felt only as ordinary nerves. For some the annual event was nearly a holiday; for Ben it was a burden pressing on his collarbone. All he could think of was leaving early to see his children and his wife, and that tonight everything had to go exactly to plan.
“I know. Your first official harvest. Just don’t give up. It’s a rare privilege to work for this company.”
“Yes, sir.”
The rookie walked off, hesitant, caught between excitement and dread. Ben watched him a moment; the smile stayed on his face, but worry shadowed it.
“I wish I could stop worrying so much… Time to work,” he muttered, picking up his briefcase once the tea was gone. He walked to the elevator, passing occupied quadrants stuffed with unfinished paperwork, his footsteps echoing down silent corridors.
“Rosa, inspection time. Meet me downstairs. Don’t be long.”
“Yes, team leader…”
Later, in the car, he chatted cheerfully with Rosa riding beside him.
“Do you think the farm’s done its job?” she asked. “They’re supposed to deliver in good condition.”
“I don’t know, Rosa. Last time I checked, the livestock looked ready on schedule. The boss will kill us if we’re late.”
“By the way, Rosa, clean your quadrant. There might be inspections soon. Remember what happened to Steven.”
“His dismissal was really painful… and he’d been here five years, right, boss?”
“Yes. Great colleague. But that’s the world: eat or be eaten.”
“We’re here. It’s pouring—take my umbrella.”
“Got it.”
As Ben walked through relentless rain, figures in contamination suits emerged to greet them. Something in their gaze—disciplined, almost ceremonial—sent a brief chill through him he barely registered.
“How are you, team leader?”
“Better than ever, director. I’m here on the boss’s orders to confirm the livestock is ready for tonight’s great harvest...
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