Steven dos Santos - The Sowing

I squint through my protective goggles against the maelstrom of swirling sand and blinding neon lights closing in on either side of me, trying to crush me in their rainbow vise.

This is it. The Avenue of Longing. Home of the Pleasure Emporiums, the place where every appetite can be satisfiedfor a steep price.

How many thousandsno, hundreds of thousandsof patrons have had their dark fantasies fulfilled behind these brilliantly lit facades, all at the expense of countless kids with no one to care, no one to fight for them?

Until now.

The sandstorm moans in my ears, its winds buffeting my body as if trying to hold me back.

But I wont be denied. Not after coming so far.

Adrenaline burns through me like lit kerosene. The familiar rush that Ive nicknamed the crusha mixture of fear, defiance, and justice, with a heaping dollop of vengeance. After months of sneaking off from my unit and risking execution, youd think Id have gotten used to it.

Still, each act of sabotage, each betrayal of the Imposer uniform I wear, seems just as exciting as the first and has made me even more daring. But it never seems to be enough.

Not until Ive made the very government I serve pay for all the hurt its caused.

I pull the chronometer from my pocket. Sand covers its face, obscuring the digital display. I brush it away and study the readout.

Less than an hour left. If I dont accomplish what I came here to do and get back to my unit, I may never get another chance.

Stuffing the timepiece back in my pocket, I pull my cowl tighter against the sudden chill of the desert night, fully hiding my Imposer uniform. It wouldnt be good for anyone to recognize Lucian Spark, the Establishments newest Recruit and member of the Imposer elite squad. Especially since Im AWOL.

I push through the gusts and down the paved concourse, leaving the yawning wasteland in my wake.

There are only a few stragglers here and there, lurking in the shadows, ducking down side streets. Probably just servants, valets of the Establishments elite, hidden from the publics gaze. Weaving among the buildings, I pull out a few of the silver discs stuffed in my pocket and make sure to scatter them at random. If anyone sees me, theyll assume Ive had one wanderers brew too many.

Ive never been more sober in my life.

I round the corner and spot my target.

Harmony House.

Its vulgar turrets and arches, bathed in the glow of sweeping, multicolored spotlights, are a fitting monument to the Establishments corruption. A pathway of red carpet, flanked by golden rails, leads to the arched double doors.

This was the place that ultimately destroyed her. The place thats destroyed so many.

I stride up the pathway, burning with purpose. A hover carriage, propelled by gravity boosters, nearly collides with me.

Watch where youre going, an electronically modulated voice shouts from behind the tinted windows obscuring the identities of the passengers.

But I ignore it, reaching the entrance at last. Before I can knock, the doors slide apart of their own accord. I enter and they squeal shut, sealing me inside.

It takes a few moments for my eyes to adjust. Wisps of stale smoke swirl through the shafts of dim gaslight, flickering down from the vaulted ceiling. The cloying stench of incense, sweet perfumes, alcohol, and sweat is suffocating. The sounds of wind instruments weave their way through the chamber.

Welcome, a throaty voice croaks from the shadows.

A tall, sinewy figure slinks out of the darkness, wrapped in form-hugging leather. It has short, dyed-blue hair and skin pale as chalk. Even from here I can see the thick concealer caked on that face, drawing attention to the wrinkles and blemishes its trying desperately to hide.

My eyes flick to the silver tablet clutched in one of those bony handsthe master control unit. As subtly as I can, I press a notch in my utility belt, activating the computer virus thatll hack into the security system at Harmony House and reprogram itthat is, if my black market source earned his hefty fee.

I nod. Evening.

The figure circles once before sidling up to me, hot breath snaking up my left ear. Raja Featherbone here, carnal caterer extraordinaire. Your pleasures are my desire. The proprietor takes a puff of the long cigarette clutched in the other hand, smiles, and exhales a wave of concentric circles that ring my head and throat like a smoky noose. So tell me. What does it take to make your clock chime, young man, hmmm?

I smile back, fighting the urge to cough. Im looking for something fresh tonight. I force a wink to hide my disgust. I hear thats your specialty.

A chuckle bursts from Featherbones throat. Oooh! Yes indeedy! But that will cost you an extra premium. You know, supply and demand and all.

I wave these concerns away. Not a problem. The computer scanner in my belt vibrates once, signaling that the hack is about one third complete. A genuine smile coats my lips this time.

Oooh, Goody-goody! Featherbone shoves the cigarette in place between yellowed teeth and presses a hand against the control units screen. Theres a buzz as Featherbones fingerprints are scanned. A split second later, a green light on the device blinks.

Featherbone nudges me with a pointy elbow and a lewd glance before tapping the keys with the speed of a scavenger. We have quite the selection tonight, oh yes we do, yes indeedy! The music cuts off. A rising hum fills the room, tingling through my ears, rattling my teeth. Panels in the ceiling stretch open with a bone-crushing grind. With the whir of motors, transparent tubes descend, each containing a body. One by one, these capsules rotate just above me, allowing me to get a good look at their cargo.

Theyre just children.

I can see the fear in their faces, particularly the younger ones, imploring me with saucered eyes. But whats even more chilling is the jaded expression of the older ones. Theyre maybe fourteen or fifteen years old at mostjust a couple of years younger than me. Its as if theyve been through this selection process hundreds of times and are almost bored with it. All of them are wearing blinking red bands around their wristssecurity restraints. If they try to escape, a remote signal will deliver instant pain and death.

I want to reach out and snap Featherbones scrawny neck. But that would be too easy. Id be taken down by security quickly, and then this whole operation would have been in vain. My belt scanner vibrates twice. The security hack is halfway complete. I just have to hold this scum off a little longer.

You certainly have a lot to choose from. I push the words through my mouth even as I struggle to push the bile back down my throat. I guess youve been doing this for quite some time.

Featherbones fingers tiptoe up my back. Im not that old, lovie. He squeezes the words through his cigarette-clenched teeth. Well? Care to taste any of my treats?

I purse my lips. Actually, I was wondering if you had someone that looked more like this.

Reaching into the folds of my cloak, I pull out the small, triangular holographic display cam and switch it on.

A three-dimensional figure of a little girl is projected before Featherbones face. A beautiful little girl of six with long, raven hair and striking green eyes.