Elevation 2: The Rising Tide. Helen Brain

remember his words: Wealth is power. Use it.

      What if they are holding Micah somewhere else? What if the general decides to arrest Letti and Fez? And the two thousand people still in the bunker? It’ll be much easier to get them out if I’m helping to make the decisions. Surely Jasmine and Leonid and Micah will understand?

      “Sorry,” I say, lifting my right hand and trying to look calm. “I’m ready.”

      “Repeat after me: I, Ebba den Eeden, do solemnly swear to obey General Magnus de Groot, president and supreme ruler of the Republic of Table Island City, and to serve the Council to the best of my ability. I will be loyal, diligent and untiring in the execution of my duty.”

      I mumble the words after him. Am I making the biggest mistake of my life?

      When I finish the oath, he gestures to the empty chair between Mr Frye and Mr Adams. I sit down, and the general, Major Zungu and Captain Atherton face me, unsmiling.

      “Item one on the agenda,” Captain Atherton says, opening a leather-bound book with a thud.

      “Gentlemen … and lady … we are in a crisis situation!” General de Groot says. He pauses to let his words sink in, and then thumps the table with his fist. “A crisis situation,” he repeats. “We are running out of food. The reserves in the colony are decreasing daily. Without that produce, there is nothing to trade, and no way to feed the army or the citizens. We have to find a way to produce enough food to keep our Islanders fed, or we will face rebellion. Mr Adams, the Syndicate produces grain on the mainland. Can you increase your yield? Can we import more into Table Island?”

      “Unfortunately not,” Mr Adams says. “We don’t have enough water resources.”

      “Hmmm.” The general steeples his fingers and then fixes his stare on me. “What is your opinion, Miss den Eeden?” He’s a big, thick-set man, and his muscles bulge beneath the sleeves of his uniform, reminding me not so subtly that he is in charge. “Can Greenhaven produce more food?”

      His strange eyes shine like polished steel and I stare back at him, thoughts whirling in my mind. Is this why he wanted me on the council – for Greenhaven’s produce? And while I have to grow more to feed the citizens and the army, the people I grew up with in the bunker are starting to go hungry?

      “I … er … I …”

      “Let me answer that,” Mr Frye says with a smile. “Greenhaven has plenty of empty land to expand. However, labour remains a problem. Without sufficient labourers, no expansion is possible. Isn’t that right, Ebba?”

      Suddenly I understand what he meant earlier about my power. Here is the general, the most important person on the island, in the whole world, and he’s asking me to help him!

      Now’s my chance to get what I want.

      “Well, General,” I begin. My voice sounds squeaky in the big, marble-lined chamber. “We could produce more food, but as Mr Frye says, we don’t have enough staff.”

      I take a deep breath and hope he doesn’t shout at me because of what I’m about to say.

      “There are two thousand people in the colony. If you released them from the slavery that the High Priest kept them in, you’d have a powerful workforce. And I could give some a place to work on Greenhaven.”

      He snorts. “Ebba, Ebba, such an idealist. You’re still so young.”

      He and Major Zungu smile at me like I’m an indulged two-year old. I feel my face going red.

      “Just tell me,” he says, “how would we feed and clothe and house them? It would be cruel to release them with no preparation for life. The colony is all they’ve ever known – they’ve been fed three times a day, provided for. There’s not enough to go around as it is in this dangerous world. It would be dog eat dog.” He chortles. “And once they start breeding …”

      But I know my idea is a good one. I eye Major Zungu and Captain Atherton, and then address the general.

      “You can’t keep them there indefinitely. You’ve already told us they’re running out of food and growing medium, thanks to the High Priest’s corruption.” Micah would be proud of me for speaking out, but I break into a sweat.

      The general stares at me, his eyes narrowed and hard. Have I gone too far? But then he sits back and stares into middle distance. After a pause, he nods slowly.

      “You may have a point here, Miss den Eeden. You may have a point. But they need to be prepared for life outside of the bunker. What do you suggest?”

      I exhale slowly. “They need to know the truth about the world above. And they should be taught to read and write. Also, how to keep out of the sun, how to build shelter, where to find water, basic medicine, how to –”

      He laughs. “One thing at a time, one thing at a time. We can start with reading and writing. I’ll instruct the tutors to begin daily lessons. Does that make you happy, my dear?”

      “Yes. Thank you.” There is something so patronising about his “my dear”.

      Mr Frye beams. “Well done, General. You’re already proving to be a wise and generous leader. Now, how many of the young people in the colony could you spare for Greenhaven’s workforce?”

      The general gestures to Major Zungu, who leans over. Captain Atherton passes along the leather book and the three of them bend over it, muttering. The general jabs the page with his stubby finger. At last he looks up.

      “I can give you fifty girls,” he says.

      “Um …” I swallow as I contemplate finding beds for fifty people. “I haven’t really got room for that many –”

      Major Zungu ignores me. “They will be in the care of the army,” he growls. “They will sleep in a temporary barracks located just outside Greenhaven Farm. They will be marched to Greenhaven at 0800 hours, six days a week, and return to the barracks at 1800 hours. Guards will supervise them for the duration. And, Miss den Eeden, make no mistake: They will be under strict observation at all times. You will feed them all three meals per day – including the guards.”

      “Three meals a day?” How am I supposed to find food for over fifty people a day? But I know that if I don’t, they’ll be stuck in the colony. They will probably starve to death.

      “In time, the food they produce will be more than enough to feed them and you’ll still have plenty to sell to the City. I understand that Greenhaven Farm does exceptionally well under your care, Miss den Eeden. Mr Frye says it’s quite remarkable how the output has increased since you’ve arrived. It’s your duty, Miss den Eeden, to help solve this crisis.”

      Under the table, I feel Mr Frye’s knee nudging mine. I remember his words: Bargain with them.

      “General,” I begin, trying to sound professional, “this is an interesting opportunity, but it’s also a big adjustment for Greenhaven. I’m not certain that we want to expand so quickly. Perhaps in a year or two, when we’re a little more established …”

      He narrows his eyes. I’m hitting home. I push on.

      “However …” I pause. I’m thinking about how strained things have been between me and my sabenzis. It’s so unfair that I have everything and they own nothing. They can’t even live at Greenhaven unless they’re my servants. “I could perhaps be persuaded if you were to do something for me. Something to make up for the inconvenience.”

      He leans forward. “What? What is it you want, Miss den Eeden?”

      I swallow the boulder in my throat. If I don’t ask now I’ll never get it. “If I could have full citizenship for my friends. Please.”

      He thinks a bit, then nods. “Names?”

      “Jasmine Constable … um, Letti Sinxo, Fezile Sinxo … Micah Maystree …”