Harmony a dystopian scie.., p.1
Harmony: A Dystopian Science Fantasy, page 1
HARMONY
HELEN GARRAWAY
HARMONY ©2024 Helen Garraway
The moral right of this author has been asserted.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored, or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without express written permission of the author.
The author expressly prohibits any entity from using this publication for purposes of training artificial intelligence (AI) technologies to generate text, including without limitation technologies that are capable of generating works in the same style or genre as this publication. The author reserves all rights to license uses of this work for generative AI training and development of machine learning language models.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organisations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used it. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Published by Jerven Publishing
Cover designed by 100 Covers
eBook ISBN: 978-1-915854-21-6
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
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First Edition
For Jennie
ALSO BY HELEN GARRAWAY
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Sentinals Rising
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Sentinals Recovery (Novella)
Sentinals Across Time
Sentinals Banished
Sentinals Destiny
SoulMist series
SoulBreather
DragonBound
OblivionGate (July 1, 2024)
Standalone Novel
Harmony
CONTENTS
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Start the Epic Fantasy Sentinal Series today
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Reader's Notes
Favourite Quotes
1
“What is the point of life on Harmony?” Annie muttered, ignoring the curling plume of misty breath trailing on the evening air. A frost was already descending, icing the wooden buildings with a glittery wrapper as if it could disguise the destitution within.
All she ever did was wash, starve and sleep. Her shift at the laundry always finished late, and she never got paid extra. The thought of washing one more piece of clothing, ever, made her grit her teeth in frustration. There had to be more to life than this constant drudgery, not that she dared to ever speak that thought aloud.
Annie was running late again. Mind racing, she hurried home as she tried to figure out how she could fit in going down to the creek before curfew sounded to, yes, wash more clothes, but their own for once.
Once she reached the unit she lived in with her parents and twin brother, she changed into her brother’s old trousers and shirt, the material catching on her chapped skin. Her brother’s clothes always lasted longer, as he got a clothing allowance from Comptech.
Even late as she was, no one was home. The hearth was dead, no fire warming the chill air, no dinner cooking, not that there was anything to cook. She wondered where her mother could be and then shrugged the thought away. She didn’t have time to linger if she wanted to get her washing done.
All day she had scrubbed other people’s clothes, and the little time she had away from the tubs, she would do more. Bundling up her washing, she shoved a tiny piece of soap rind into her pocket. She had managed to salvage it on the first day of that week’s shift.
After slipping out of the housing unit and scurrying down the alley that ran between two lines of terraced houses backing onto each other, she hopped over the rubbish and the putrid remains littering the ground, skirted the edge of the quadrant, and then veered off into the denuded tree line. Only the stunted grey trunks of the once vibrant trees remained, standing in straggling lines like grave markers.
Annie slid down the bank, catching the bole of a tree at the bottom to stop herself from falling into the water. She scowled at the meagre stream, now ice-rimmed along the edges. The water level was down again; soon, there would barely be a trickle, and what was left would freeze solid. Wasn’t it time winter released its grip on the sectors?
Wishing for warmer breezes, or heat of any sort come to that, Annie checked to make sure that she was alone. She stripped and washed herself as best she could with the tiny piece of soap. Once clean, she shrugged her brother’s clothes back on over damp skin.
As she soaked her hands in the clear water for a moment, she wished…She didn’t know what she wished, only that life was better. That there was more to life than this daily drudge. Her brother’s frustration suddenly made sense.
Time was passing. Scrubbing the clothes on the rocks, she wrung them out as much as possible before stretching them back out. Once she’d smoothed out most of the creases, she folded them over and climbed back up the bank.
The jingle of harnesses made her shrink back. Many horses were approaching, and nothing good ever happened when horses arrived in the quadrant.
Annie slid back down the gully and hid among the tangled, moss covered tree roots. At least her clothes blended in with the mud. If she had been in her work shift, she would have stood out like a beacon. She tucked her clean washing inside her shirt and listened.
A sharp voice barked a command, and Annie’s heart sank. They wanted access to the water. A whole troop of Devenders were stopping on the path above her. What were they doing there? What could possibly bring Devenders to the forty-fifth sector?
A stocky man dressed in a khaki uniform, with many canteens strapped crossways over his shoulders slithered past Annie, so close she could have reached out and touched him. She hid her face and tried to disappear.
Please don’t see me, please don’t see me, she chanted over and over, gripping the tree roots tight with trembling fingers.
The horses shifted restlessly on the road above her. The clinking of their bridles was soft and surprisingly soothing in the evening air. Relaxing a little, she listened to the desultory conversation above her. The speakers didn’t sound particularly pleased to be here, either.
“We should have taken the coastal route,” a harsh voice said. “At least the view would have been pleasing.”
The responding voice was deep and calm. “But we would have been another three days on the road. Let’s get this over with. I want to return to Maincore.”
“Got a girl waiting, have you? Might’ve known a Gallante would have them on tap. Lucky bastard. I wouldn’t touch any of this lot. Infested, all of ’em.”
“They don’t have much choice, now, do they? And from what we can see here, I would think one of the nodes has failed. No doubt, Comptech is overcompensating and draining the life from this place.”
“C’mon now, Kiefer. You would’ve thought Harmony would be more accommodating, wouldn’t you? Isn’t that what the original brochure said? Welcome to a world of harmony, where nature meets technology and flourishes, accommodating all requirements.”
“Ha,” the deep voice snorted as the horses shifted impatiently. “I expect the definition of harmony over a thousand years ago was a little different to what we have today.”
“True, very true. Where is that man? Is he boring for water? Hey, Jeffers, get a move on!” the harsh voice shouted down the bank.
“Coming, sir,” Jeffers responded from almost on top of Annie. The man hesitated and then continued to clamber up the bank.
Annie froze as a low-voiced conversation murmured above her. She only made out the ‘Really?’ before the deep voice, Kiefer, Annie labelled it, said. “Enough. We don’t have time for this. We’re already behind schedule, and one drab is not cause enough to delay us further. Come on.”
“A bit of sport, Kiefer. A rabbit chase,” the harsh voice said, rising with a touch of excitement.
“You can volunteer for the next clearance run if that’s what you want. You’ll break your horse’s shins in this tangle of roots. Onwards. Let’s get this check done and leave. We’re going to have to stop for the night in this godforsaken place as it is.”
Annie breathed a sigh of relief as the column finally moved on. Climbing up the bank, she peered around a tree trunk. One of the Devenders, leading the pack mules, was looking back down the road as he rounded the curve at the end. Annie ought to let them get far ahead, but she was running out of time; curfew would be sounding soon. She hurried down the trail towards the housing quadrant.
As she reached the curve, she saw a pile of horse droppings on the road. She searched for something to carry them in; dried, they would burn well. Not seeing anything of use, she scooped them up in her hands. The droppings were still warm and smelt, funnily enough, sort-of clean. The fresh smell of shit, strong enough to clear your lungs and rarely experienced in the quadrant. Devenders could be useful for something after all.
Why were they in the sector, and what was the check for? Devenders usually protected cities, like Maincore, and the sub-core installations, patrolling for rule-breakers, hackers, and the like. Restoring order and maintaining the peace.
Not that there were any hackers anymore. Only the controllers had access to the net, and that was protected by more Devenders. The world was in its current state because hackers had destroyed the foundation on which Harmony was supposed to run. They’d corrupted the programs that supported the colonisation of the planet, undermining the very principles the original settlers had signed up for, leaving a system that had degraded over time and was just about spent.
Annie wondered what the original vision of this planet had been. Her weekly orientation class never covered it, only the new rules that were being put in place to protect them from the threat of the dead zones, the contamination that spread through the depths of the Wytchwards. She frowned. Why weren’t the Devenders out there, clearing the infection out of the fringes? That would be a better way to protect the cities.
There was no sign of the Devenders as she approached the quadrant. No doubt, they would be ensconced in the hospitality of Comptech. She scuttled up the alley towards their unit as the curfew rang out.
Her mother exclaimed at her tardiness as she entered, but once Annie had told her about her close encounter with the Devenders, her mother was even more horrified. The droppings were carefully laid out on the cold stone hearth to dry. Her mother took the damp clothes, now somewhat less damp from enforced contact with Annie’s body heat, and hung them up to dry.
Annie realised both her brother and her father were not at home. “Where’s Chiva and Da?”
“Chiva had a late pass, something to do with the academy. Your father has a double shift today.”
A double shift was usually the punishment for something. Annie swallowed as she looked at her mother. “What did he do?”
“Nothing. He did nothing wrong. One of the processors they were working on failed, and they haven’t been able to repair it, is all. They have to stay until it’s repaired. Jonni came by. His da was held back as well.”
“What if they can’t repair it?” Annie whispered, and her mother’s lips tightened at the thought.
“They will; they have to. Come. As it was just us two, I thought we would finish the last of the flour and have a treat, a fresh flatbread between us. Look.” Her mother’s face brightened as she displayed the flatbread.
Annie looked at it and then at her mother. Her mother’s mouth trembled, and Annie rushed to hug her. “Ma, you are a wonder. Thank you. You take the first bite. After all, you baked it.”
“No, we both take the first bite.” Her mother tore the bread in half and smiled at her daughter. “One day,” she said. “One day, we will be able to make fresh bread every day.”
“Of course. Harmony will protect us; she will provide for all,” Annie replied. “Harmony bless us and the food we eat, by your leave,” she murmured as she stuffed a piece in her mouth, savouring the fact that she was actually eating solid food. She chewed so long that it got stodgy, and she struggled to swallow it. Closing her eyes, she nibbled another piece. “What about Da and Chiva?”
“Chiva will eat at the academy. I got your da an egg.”
Annie sat back in her chair. “Where in the world did you get an egg?”
“Now, that would be telling,” her mother said, pursing her lips.
They looked at each other across the table. Her mother’s faded blue eyes were set in a prematurely wrinkled face. Annie couldn’t remember a time when her mother’s hair hadn’t been grey, yet she still sat straight and proud, kept her tiny home clean, and managed to scrounge up food out of nowhere.
Annie didn’t press too hard. She was sure there was some black-market trading going on, but what her mother had to trade, she couldn’t imagine. Was this what she would become? A homemaker for some man who rarely came home? Her life spent in the laundry, if she was fortunate? What was the point of it all? Why would Harmony allow them to be reduced to such straits? She could see why Chiva was itching to get out: to have a better life. But why couldn’t she have one, too?
Chiva sat in the Computer Lab, his fingers flying over the keyboard. He had a real project for once, in the live lab, not the test lab they were usually restricted to. His stomach tightened with the thrill of it. The controller had called on the students to reprogram the processor that had failed. The technicians couldn’t get it online, and they couldn’t find the fault. Every student had been roped into searching the code for the error.
There was a rumour circulating that a troop of Devenders had arrived just as the facility was failing. They couldn’t have timed it any worse. The double-supe was in a frenzy, afraid of being held accountable.
Chiva frowned at the screen as he easily translated the sequences in his head. He typed a couple of corrections and moved on, forgetting in his eagerness that he was supposed to get them approved. Scrolling down the lines of code, he saw the same error was repeating. He raised his hand. “Supe?”
“Yes, Chiva?” The double-supe skittered over to Chiva’s workstation.
“There’s a repeating blocker here, sir. I need a replacement command. If I remove them all, it will become a circular loop.”
The double-supe leaned over Chiva’s shoulder. “Stay. I’ll check the manual.” He was back in a moment, reciting a command.
Quickly updating the code, Chiva did a find-and-replace, and scrolled back to the top for a final manual check.
“Let me know as soon as you’ve finished,” the supe murmured, and then he went to each station to give the students the new command.
Chiva frowned at the logic. Should he speak up again? Twice in as many minutes was pushing his luck. He hesitated a moment and then raised his voice. “Supe?” he called.
“Yes?”
“This subroutine, isn’t it contradicting the prime command? I can’t see its purpose.”
The supe shoved him out of his chair, sat in his place, and carefully scrolled down the page. The lab door cycled, interrupting his concentration, and the supe looked up with a frown. A tall, lean man with broad shoulders and black hair cut short and swept back off his face stood at the entrance. His dark eyes swept the room.
“Who’s in charge here?” the man demanded as he strode forward. The artificial light revealed the deep-brown uniform of a Devender, and a commander at that, according to the reflective stripes on his collar and sleeves. He still wore his muddy riding boots, though he had shed his outer garments.
The double-supe lurched to his feet. “I am. Double Superintendent Floris, sir.”
The piercing brown eyes searched the supe’s face and moved on to Chiva. Stiffening under the acute inspection, Chiva took a step back.
“I understand the sentinel core processor failed,” said the Devender. “What is the status?”
“We are updating the code,” replied the supe. “We found the error string and are currently replacing it, but we discovered a sub routine that countermands the prime command, sir.”
The Devender crossed the room. “Let me see it,” he commanded, ignoring the gaping students watching him. He leaned over the console, and the supe stumbled as he hurried to get out of the way. A slender finger tapped a key, and the screen scrolled. The Devender looked up and stared at Chiva. As Chiva fidgeted under the man’s gaze, he realised that the Devender wasn’t actually looking at him. He was thinking, with a slight cleft between his brows. He had an intelligent-looking face, straight nose, firm mouth and chin. His gaze saw right through Chiva. This man would not tolerate stupidity.
