Reaping by K. Makansi Page B

and down. First, the relief of arriving at Normandy safely, only to discover that something happened at Waterloo and we have no idea if Firestone, Jahnu, Kenzie, and Vale are alive. Then, as overjoyed as I was to see my father’s face, to see Rhinehouse and the Director, that excitement was quickly doused by Philip’s very public announcement that we were being targeted as terrorists and that Vale was the victim of his best friend’s manipulations.
    Eli’s green eyes are lidded with sleep. “What’ya do to whats-his-name, the guy who’s supposed to be on comm duty tonight?”
    “I told him I’d spot him for a while. He’s in the rec room taking a nap.”
    “Ah, sleep. That’s what you should be doing. You know avoiding sleep is not going to solve anything.”
    “A sleeping drought isn’t going to solve anything, either, Eli,” I say, knowing where he’s going with this. Hodges has offered me sleeping draughts every night and except for the first night, I’ve refused. The after-effects of the drowsiness last long past daybreak, and I don’t want anything clouding my mind, not when I need to think clearly, not when my friends are in danger. “And why aren’t  you  sleeping?”
    Eli sighs, his head cocked to the side, considering. He, of everyone, understands my reluctance to drug myself to sleep, but he’s also been the most motherly and protective, next to my father, that is, since the battle at Thermopylae. “If you’re not going to sleep, at least let’s get out of the comm room. It’s miserable in here.”
    I may not want to admit it, but he has a point. The airwaves are empty. Wherever our teammates are and whatever they’re doing, we have no choice but to wait for their word. Being in here simply increases my anxiety.
    I can’t help myself from trying one last ping at Waterloo. When nothing happens, as expected, I push my chair back and look up at Eli.
    “What do you say we pinch a few of those coffee beans Adrienne brought out from her secret stash for the Director?”
    Eli’s face erupts in a mischievous grin. This is the Eli I know and love. When he’s not worrying too much about me, his slightly crazy fuck-it-all attitude puts some light back into my heart. I smile at him as he pulls me up from my chair.
    “Stealing from the Director? Why Remy, I thought you’d never ask.”
     
     
    To our disappointment, raiding Adrienne’s kitchen stores wasn’t even difficult. So we sit in the mess hall sipping coffee and telling each other stories until almost six in the morning, when Zoe emerges from the hallway, hair mussed from sleep.
    “Is that coffee I smell?”
    “Sure is,” Eli says. “Want some?”
    “Gods, yes.” She fishes a ceramic cup out of the giant pile of drying dishes from yesterday’s meal and pours herself a cup from the press. Sitting down, almost completely still, staring with unfocused eyes at the table, and sipping occasionally with measured movements, she looks not unlike a zombie.
    “Why are you up so early?” I ask.
    She cocks an eyebrow at me, looking slightly more alert now.
    “You two are sitting here with a lukewarm pot of coffee on hand. Shouldn’t I be asking you that question?”
    I laugh. “I don’t really sleep much these days.”
    She shrugs. “Most of us don’t. I just do my not-sleeping towards the beginning of the night, and can’t seem to drag myself out of bed in the morning. But since we reopened satellite connection lines yesterday, I’ve been tasked with seeing what info has come in. I’ve got to see if we’ve had any contact from the other bases before our morning briefing. Director’s orders. So,” she heaves a sigh, “I’m up before everyone else, today.”
    At some point during the battle at Thermopylae, the Director gave the order for all Resistance bases to kill our satellite links. If she’s ready to re-open the lines, it means she thinks the immediate danger has passed.”
    “You think there’s a chance we might hear