CHAPTER NINETEEN
WHEN ZETH CONVINCED the carrier driver to drop him at the plantation, he’d been warned there was only one way to the warehouses at the other end; official invitation from the owners and a personal escort through three checkpoints. With a few extra coins, the driver told Zeth of another way across the field—unofficially.
He had not, however, mentioned the harvesters.
Zeth stood in the middle of the field, squinting against the sunlight shining off eight approaching harvesting machines. The hairs rose all over his body as reality set in. The harvesters were stretched in a direct line between where he stood and the factories ahead. Stacked two deep to ensure they didn’t miss a single piece of ripened fruit, they appeared as large metal beasts moving on serrated wheels larg
