The Heart of Mid-Lothian, Volume 2 by Walter Scott (fantasy novels to read .txt) 📕

close to mid-eighties or higher in temperatures on the inside. The humidity was through the roof. Gorman pulled his jacket off and hung it on a hook that Rob had pointed out. Korey followed suit a moment later. Neither agent felt exposed with their shoulder holsters on display, as everyone at the farm except the Bailey woman were armed as well.

“It smells… like a garden,” Gorman said.

Angelica’s laugh was musical. “Yes. We aren’t using any chemicals here. The water the plants are grown in comes from the catfish pond. We feed the catfish, and pump the water up here. The plants filter the water and take the nutrients they need. The whole system flows back to the pond, bringing less ammonia and a ton of added oxygen back into the process.”

“I was wondering how you got the pond so clean, but it looks to be full of fish,” Gorman said.

“It is, it might have too many fish, but we’re still dialing in the system.” Rob answered. “Luis, my mom’s boyfriend, built this. He wanted it to run all off solar with cheap and easy to source materials. Sort of a set it and forget it setup, until it needs maintenance. That way we can focus on replanting and harvesting.”

“I…holy shit,” Korey said softly. “No wonder the FDA and Homeland wanted your asses so bad. You can literally feed your area from this little holding.”

“I can’t speak for everyone,” Bailey spoke up, “because I’m new here and learning as I go, but I believe they want these guys badly, because they can teach others to be self-sufficient in a much, much smaller footprint. For some reason, I don’t think the shadow government wants folks to be self reliant. If the public were, they wouldn’t need them anymore.”

The agents just stared at her a while, mouths agape. Neither were farmers, but now that they had seen just a small scratch of the surface of what this farm could do, they became afraid. Not for their own safety, but afraid of the direction their country was facing… and the outcome of the general election in four short weeks. If a small farm in the middle of Western Arkansas could keep a community together and fed, why weren't the emergency management powers that be adopting a similar program instead of consolidating people with the increasingly limited resources?

The agents had literally rolled up their sleeves and joined in the process. It wasn’t difficult the way Luis had it set up. The root plugs had an opening on the top where you pushed a seed in. Then you put the plug in a small tray with a humidity dome and made sure everything was marked and watered down. The trays and humidity domes that had plants in them from a week ago and were ready to go into the system.

Bailey only had a couple of days under her belt, but the setup was so easy; the hardest part was explaining the planting schedule, so they always had something ready to go. The old media, expanded clay pellets, were dumped into a framed screen that had small but heavy gauge wire. Organic material was picked out by hand, and the media was sprayed with a hose and left to dry in the sun. It wasn’t perfect, but it was as low tech as Luis could make it. Even the root plugs were cleaned up and reused.

“The lettuce seems to be what you guys plant the most of?” Korey asked, already finishing up a flat of fifty plugs.

“Yes,” Angelica said. “We harvest it every day. Luis has a salad spinner thing and another rack like you saw for the clay pellets where he can air dry the lettuce. Most of the time though, we’re able to just cut and bag it. It never touches the soil, so it’s pretty clean. We can get two cuttings off the lettuce in the greenhouse before it tries to bolt because of the heat in here. Luis figures in the wintertime he may be able to get more cuttings on the plants.”

“So, getting back to your story,” Gorman said, all business. “You said the man who abducted you was named Khamenei, a doctor?”

“That’s what they called him, but he wasn’t working with the regular doctors at the compound. He had his own team with him.”

“Had,” Bailey snickered.

“Had?” Korey was curious.

“I hurt a few of his boys before he shot me with a tranquilizer dart. I thought he’d shot me for real, it hurt so bad, but he wasn’t kicking my ass either. I put a monkey stomping on those boys and for once, I didn’t feel bad about hurting somebody.”

“I’d like to monkey stomp all of their asses,” Rob said loudly, reminding everyone he was still there, but hanging back, quiet.

“So, Rob, do you mind telling us your role in the escape of the governor and the ladies?” Korey asked him.

“I watched the place for a few days, getting to know the layout of the camp, and the timing. I worked out a way to sneak inside the camp. I was about to wreak some havoc and make a diversion when I quite literally ran into my wife, who was making her own escape with the governor and Bailey.”

“So, your only criminal liability in this situation is unlawful entry,” Gorman added hopefully.

“No comment,” Rob said, grinning at the men. There was no way he was going to tell them about the transformers he’d blown, or the men he’d shot in the plates to cause confusion. He wouldn’t have minded if he had missed and killed them instead, but that would have probably pushed the government a little too far. So, he remained silent.

“We’re not here to arrest you,” Agent Korey said. “We’re just trying to understand.”

“It’s simple,” Rob said. “A large mob formed up on the last day, the day I was going to sneak in. During the chaos, the ladies and the governor made their escape. The detention facility