Noor(16)

“So how do you find your, uh, village?” I asked.

“There’s a code. I can find them, but the government never can.”

Nomads who could not be located by anyone but tribe members. I’d thought I was ahead of everyone by hacking my identity offline, yet here was one of the oldest cultures in West Africa ahead of everyone because they wanted to hold on to a key part of their traditional way of life. Using the new tech to maintain old ways.

I let DNA pull me up.



* * *



—

I walked with my eyes on my sandals. Crunching down on the rough sand and hard pebbles. The sun was beating my shoulders, its heat passing through my veil and the material of my dress. My arms and legs remained cool, the metal they were made from didn’t heat in the sun. I chuckled to myself and DNA glanced back at me.

“Are you all right?”

“Are you?” I asked.

He turned back around without a word, his arms rested on the stick over his shoulders. Behind me trudged his two remaining cattle. The bull’s name was “GPS” because he never wandered off. The cow’s name was “Carpe Diem” because she had a habit of getting up before all the other steer in the morning. Back when he had other steer.

He started singing. A popular ballad by a rock band that I was always hearing streamed while I worked in the auto shop. It was one of those songs that stole heavily from children’s nursery rhymes, using a lot of repetition and sing-song language set against an acoustic guitar. It was actually a beautiful song despite its mainstream appeal, and now DNA belted it out over the dry land. I raised my head, the smile on my lips surprising me. I joined in.

Neither of us could sing all that well, so I’m sure the steer were glad when the breeze carried our voices into the distance ahead of us. Singing always raised my spirits; it was no different now. DNA seemed the same. The worry and shock in his face were gone. The breeze blew dust at our backs and we sang into it as if we were singing into futures.





CHAPTER 7


    Gold



The man, the cat and the dog came over a sand dune like magic. One minute we saw nothing but sand, the next there was a man at the dune’s peak, and he was waving at us. “Saw you all from a mile away,” he said from the top of the dune. “Plus, you four make a ton of noise out here, even with the wind.” He was a small compact man of about forty with a head full of tight, short salt and pepper dreadlocks and a mouth full of gold teeth. At his feet were a hearty tabby cat and an equally hearty pointy-eared blue-gray dog with bright blue eyes. They trotted to GPS and Carpe Diem.

“What is that?” I asked, pointing behind the man.

It looked like a rusted, bicycle-sized white box resting on two fat wheels. The top and sides of it were green with leafy hanging plants. As it slowly, steadily scaled the sand dune, heading right toward us, a narrow white funnel shot up from it, reaching high into the sky. It made a loud whoooooosh! and the air around us grew comfortably cool. The contraption had a capture station collecting water. I laughed. This was why the green plants on it stayed healthy; they had an easy, constant source of water.

“That’s a planter, isn’t it?” DNA asked, grinning.

I looked around. Planters were the property of Ultimate Corp, and Ultimate Corp always monitored its equipment.

“Relax,” the man said. “They actually don’t monitor planters. That’s how rich Ultimate Corp is. They hire us. They pay us if we send invoices. They record how many plants we plant. And they’re so confident in our desperation and so rich that they don’t bother checking on us if we go rogue, as I have.”

“You don’t plant?” DNA asked.

“Oh I did for a year or two, then I decided it was time to go. I know you think I’m touched, but I don’t need money.”

DNA shook his head. “I don’t think you’re, uh, touched. Out here, money isn’t everything.”

The man nodded. He squinted at the cat rubbing itself against his legs. Then he looked at us and held out a hand to DNA, “I’m Gold. Who are you?”

DNA looked at me, and I shrugged. He took the man’s hand and shook it. “DNA.”

I held out my left hand and he took it without hesitation and shook it firmly. “Ah, you must have walked away from Ultimate Corp, too,” he said to me, smiling.

I frowned. “Why do you say that?”

He motioned toward me. “Because you’re part made from their stock, and you’re out here.”

“I’m not part . . . I was born . . .” I frowned and shook my head. “I’m not a . . . a product of Ultimate Corp.”

He chuckled. “Suit yourself,” he said patting me on the shoulder. “I didn’t mean to offend, my dear. I think you’re amazing.” He looked beyond me. “Pepper has made friends with your steer.”

I looked back, then I laughed loudly. The dog stood on Carpe Diem’s back and the steer didn’t seem to mind at all. DNA, however, looked irritated. “Don’t worry,” Gold said. “Relax. We are all happy and healthy.” He put two fingers in his mouth and blew a brief sharp whistle. The dog leaped down and came running. “He was raised around cattle,” Gold said. “He’s used to herding them.”

“Well, my steer aren’t inanimate objects,” DNA snapped.