Parable of the Talents

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I keep saying that I need to write about Bankole, and I keep not doing it. I was a zombie for days after I saw his body thrown into the bare hole they made Lucio Figueroa dig.  They said none of their prayers over him, and, of course they refused to allow us to have services for him.

I saw him alive on the day the Crusaders invaded. I know I did. What happened? He was a healthy man, and no fool. He would not have provoked armed men to kill him. We're not allowed to talk to our men, but I had to find out what happened. I kept trying until I found a moment to talk to Harry Balter. I wanted it to be Harry so I could tell him about Zahra.

We managed to meet in the field as we worked with only our own community members nearby. We were harvest­ing—often in the rain—salad greens, onions, potatoes, car­rots, and squashes, all planted and tended by Acorn, of course. We should also have been harvesting acorns— should already have harvested them—but we weren't per­mitted to do that. Some of us were being made to cut down both the mature live oak and pine trees and the saplings that we had planted. These trees not only commemorated our dead and provided us with much protein, but also they helped hold the hillside near our cabins in place. Somehow, our 'teachers' have gotten the idea that we worshipped trees, thus we must have no trees nearby except those that produce the fruit and nuts that our 'teachers' like to eat. Funny how that worked out. The orange, lemon, grapefruit, persimmon, pear, walnut, and avocado trees were good. All others were wicked temptations.

This is what Harry told me, bit by bit, during the times we managed to be near one another in our work.

'They used the collars, you know?' he said. 'On that first day, they waited until we were all conscious. Then they came in and one of them said, 'We don't want you to make any mistakes. We want you to understand how this is going to work.' Then they started with Jorge Cho, and he screamed and writhed like a worm on a hook. Then they got Alan Fair­cloth, then Michael, then Bankole.

'Bankole was awake, but not really alert. He was just sitting on the floor, holding his head between his hands, star­ing down. They had taken all the furniture out by then, and piled it in a heap out where the trucks were. So none of us fell on anything but the floor. When they used the collar on him, he didn't make a sound. He just toppled over onto his side and twitched, sort of convulsed. He never screamed, never said a word. But he went into worse con­vulsions than any of the others had. Then he was dead. That was all. Michael said the collar had triggered a massive heart attack.'

Harry didn't say more for a long time—or maybe he did, and I just didn't hear it. I was crying in spite of myself. I could be quiet, but I couldn't stop the tears. Then I heard him whisper, as we passed one another again, 'I'm sorry, Lauren. God, I'm sorry. He was a good guy.'

Bankole had delivered both of Harry's children. Bankole had delivered everyone's children, including his own daugh­ter. Without believing in Earthseed, or even in Acorn, he had stayed and worked hard to make it all work. He had done more than anyone to make it work. How stupid and point­less that he should die at the hands of men who didn't know him or care about him or even intend to kill him. They just didn't know how to use the powerful weapons they pos­sessed. They gassed Zahra to death by mistake because they didn't take her size into consideration. They shocked Bankole into a heart attack by mistake because they didn't take his age into consideration. It must have been his age. He'd had no heart trouble before. He was a strong, healthy man who should have lived to see his daughter grow up and maybe later father a son or another daughter.

It was all I could do not to fold up among the rows of plants and just lie there and moan and cry. But I stayed upright, somehow managed not to attract our 'teachers'' attentions.

After a time, I told him about Zahra. 'I really believe it was her size,' I finished. 'Maybe these people don't know much about their weapons. Or maybe they just don't care. Maybe both. None of them lifted a finger to help Teresa.'

There was another long, long silence. We worked and Harry got himself under control. When he spoke again, his voice was steady.

'Olamina, we've got to kill these bastards!'

He almost never called me Olamina. We'd known each other since we were both in diapers. He called me Lauren except during the more important Gathering Day ceremonies. He had called me Olamina for the first time when I Welcomed his first child into the Acorn community, and into Earthseed. It was as though for him the name were a title.

'First we've got to get rid of these collars,' I said. 'Then we have to find out what happened to the kids. If... if they're alive, we have to find out where they are.'

'Do you think they are alive?'

'I don't know.' I drew a deep breath. 'I'd give almost anything to know where my Larkin is and whether she's all