The Harvest: Eridu Series, #0

By Alanah Andrews

ONLY THE WORTHY PASS THE HARVEST

 

Ever since WWIII devastated the surface of the Earth, emotions have been strictly forbidden. Childhood friends, Eve and Hana, have grown up in an underground compound, their emotional control monitored at all times.

 

But the harvest is approaching . . .

 

In two days, the low-ranked students will be culled and the worthy assigned to their permanent positions in society.

Eve is a high-ranked student, but harbours secret concerns about her brother leaving—feelings that she must conceal from her monitor if she wishes to succeed. Hana has always struggled to control her emotions, and she fears that this harvest will be her last.

Both know there's no place for friendship when they're competing for their lives.

 

The harvest is coming, and only the worthy will remain.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Deadset Press
• Release date: Jan 26, 2019
• ISBN: 9781386143895

Book preview

Chapter 1 – Eve

I lean out over the edge of my pod and gaze down at my brother who is nestled within eight feet of sleek, white metal. Tell me a story?

Luc looks up from his flexi-screen, a vacant expression on his face as though I have unwittingly transported him into this room from some faraway place. What? His brow creases, and I wonder if I should just let him go back to studying. After all, tomorrow is an important day.

A story, I repeat after a slight hesitation, glancing over at the two pods clinging to the opposite wall. I lower my voice to barely a whisper. "About the old world."

Our guardians’ pods have been sealed for some time now, so I presume they are asleep. At least, I hope they are asleep. For them, the harvest is of no cause for concern. Instead, hidden beneath my primary and secondary guardians’ cool exteriors, I suspect there might be a hint of pride or excitement now that Luc has completed his final cycle. Just a little bit, of course, not enough that anybody would be able to tell.

Aren’t you a little old for bedtime stories, Eve? Luc’s voice is expressionless, and I’m not sure how to respond.

I just thought . . . I let my sentence trail off, wondering if I should push the matter. What I want to say is, ‘I thought this might be our last chance,’ but I remain silent, wondering what our guardians will do if they are awake after all, listening to our exchange.

So close to the harvest, I decide it’s not worth the risk of an infraction and lie back, chastising myself for asking such a silly question. It doesn’t matter, I say. Goodnight.

As I reach for the button that will trigger the lid of my pod to descend from the ceiling, enclosing me inside, my brother speaks again. His voice is so soft that I have to strain to hear what he is saying.

I can hardly remember how the stories went.

I hesitate, my finger hovering over the button, and then I let my hand fall to my side. Once upon a time . . . I prompt him.

Do you think it’s a good idea?

Shuffling over to the edge of my pod, I swing my legs over the side and clamber down the ladder towards the concrete floor. Luc sits up, adjusting the base of his pod so that it transforms into a low-lying seat rather than a sleeping chamber.

It’s fine. I sit next to him and pull the grey sleeve of my jumpsuit up slightly, bringing my dimly flashing monitor into view. I’m not a little kid anymore, Luc. I’ve been blue for as long as I can remember.

He stares at my monitor, watching the cool light within shiver and pulse with the colour we are told our skies used to be before the darkness came. Seemingly satisfied, Luc leans back in the pod, eyes closed, conjuring the stories from the depths of his memory. His own monitor flashes a dull blue on his left wrist—the mark of a virtuous student unburdened by strong emotions.

Once upon a time, he begins softly, and I sit back in the pod, imagining that we are young again. Back then, things like ranks and leaderboards didn’t matter, and the harvest seemed like a distant daydream. Before the war and the darkness, he continues, humans lived on the surface of the Earth.

I invoke the image in my mind—people going about their business beneath the warm glow of a star, rather than the harsh, fluorescent lights of Eridu. Luc doesn’t say anything for a minute, and I wonder if he has forgotten the stories again. It has been a long time, but he used to love telling them to me, and I would hang off every whispered word.

Back then, I prompt him, people could feel whatever they wanted.

Luc doesn’t say anything.

Back then, emotions weren’t viewed as dangerous, I continue, quoting his younger self word-for-word. But of course, that came at a cost. Luc sits perfectly still, eyes closed. I sigh, abandoning the story. Are you thinking about tomorrow?

He shakes his head, but I know that he is lying. After all, the day before your final harvest, what else could possibly consume your thoughts?

What are you hoping for? I whisper, glancing across at our guardians’ pods, but they are sealed tight like the tunnel to the surface.

I will be content with wherever the overseers place me, he says lightly, and I roll my eyes. It is the appropriate response, of course, the answer you would expect from someone at the top of the leaderboard.

Aha, so a cleaner, then? Or perhaps working in the preschool? The harvest is no joking matter, but we both know that Luc is not destined for one of the lesser positions. Being a cleaner, working as a cook or a gardener—those assignments are reserved for the lower ranked, not for someone in the elite. Even the notion of him being harvested as a teacher is ludicrous. Teachers have a higher standing than some, but they are still clothed in the dark blue of the lesser